At The Precipice Of Something New - CallMeWisteria (2024)

Chapter 1: Something Shocking

Chapter Text

Sanctuary Hills
October the 25th, 2287
9:37

“You’re serious? You were born before the War?”

Eyeing the four men and two women sat across from her, Nora Jacqueline Norwich nodded, rubbing at her eyes and hoping to stop the tiredness finally gnawing at her. Doing her best to focus, she tried to go through their names again in her mind as question after question seemed to be asked of her. Their leaders…Preston and Derek. The weaponsmith…Sturges. The broken family…Marcy and Jun. And then there was the…psychic. The psychic…Mama Murphy. She sighed. At least I haven’t forgotten how to use a gun, not that I ever expected to need to like this, against other people. Even inside and away from the cold and rain, things felt defeated. We’re lucky. Lucky to be alive. Lucky…Derek, isn’t it? Lucky he had been coming to meet up with them with more supplies. The feeling of luck and relief, however, came and went. It was a fleeting, temporary feeling. Two days. It had only been two days. Two days and two hundred and ten years. She pushed the thought away. It was too much. Just the thought of everything was too much to bear, too much to bear all at once.

“She’s a good soul,” Mama Murphy said, reaching across the table to reassuringly pat the young woman’s hands. “A good soul facing unbelievable tragedy. If it’s not too much to ask, what was your life like before the War?”

“You really think that’s an okay thing to ask someone right now?” Marcy snapped. “All we know is she’s good with a gun and seems to care about saving other people’s lives. We’re lucky she’s not some sort of raider!”

“I don’t think someone just joins raiders out of the blue,” Jun nervously said, twitching. “I mean, they would have been more likely to kill her rather than invite her to join them.”

“They did try to kill me,” Nora said, glancing to Marcy. “And it’s alright. I suppose…it’s understandable for you to be curious.”

“As long as you don’t feel as though you’re being forced to do or say anything, you can tell us as much or as little as you like,” Preston calmly said before Marcy could say anything more. “Mama Murphy is correct. You’re facing unbelievable tragedy, and nothing about the world now can be easily comparable to the one you left.”

“It isn’t,” Nora hesitated. “I’m twenty four, or, at least, was twenty four when I was frozen. My husband, Nate, and I had been married for just over a year and a half and have a three month old son, Shaun. I was a lawyer, practising law in downtown Boston, about two hours away from here, but was on maternity leave. I had been set to go back to work shortly before the end of the year but…as it would happen, that would become impossible.”

“Law seems to be a long forgotten art but it is one we ought to revisit,” Derek remarked. “I reckon my wife will have a great deal to ask you. Her great-great-great-great grandfather had been a lawyer, before the War. His law textbooks have been something of a religious text in her family ever since.”

Nora raised an eyebrow. “If it’s not too presumptuous, did he and his family survive in a Vault?”

Derek shook his head. “In an underground bunker, as it would happen. He was ex-military, and had become something of a – as I believe they would have described it back then – ‘doomsday prepper’ who had created a secure and self sustaining home under his own home.”

“Sounds a lot better than what we got,” Nora paused. “I’m so sorry if that sounds ungrateful or bitter, but, after over two centuries, I wake up with only the memories of my life before the War and my husband and son being kidnapped! When I…when I took a look around the rest of the Vault, it looked like everyone else had already been released before me. I don’t…I don’t even know what to think.”

“Released?” Preston repeated, stunned. “Again, I hope this doesn't come across as overbearing or an attempt to force you to discuss what I can only begin to imagine is incredibly painful, but how –”

“Please, don’t worry,” Nora said, attempting to regain her composure. “They…” She sighed. “They froze us in cryostasis. I…I took a look at the terminals for every pod. Everyone else...they were released when my husband and son were kidnapped. It looked recent…they said it had been done by Vault-Tec, after receiving an all clear signal that the surface was survivable again. But…it didn’t release me. It didn’t release me until now, and only as an error. I…why would they do this? Why would Vault-Tec do this?”

“I may have something of an explanation,” Derek waited for her to nod. “Vault-Tec had made well over two hundred Vaults across the United States, and at least a fifth of those were designed as experiments. Experiments to see how people would handle the aftermath of what they – and the US government – believed was inevitable nuclear war. That’s why my wife’s great-great-great-great grandfather left the US military, about fifteen years before the War, and created his self sustaining home underground.”

Nora eyed him strangely. “So, some members of the military knew?”

“Those with high enough rank and clearance, yes,” Derek shook his head. “Admittedly, he had an axe to grind against Vault-Tec for other reasons, not the least of which being because they attempted to force him to allow them to give a speech on the US Air Force base under his command at the time. He declared it a gross manipulation of the public and servicemen to use them as a prop for a corporate and political speech.”

Nora managed a weak laugh. “He sounds like the kind of person my husband would have gotten along with well. He had only been serving for a few years, but he had his own, strong –”

“That’s it!” Mama Murphy suddenly stood up, clasping her hands together as she swallowed the last of what appeared to be her mentats. “The great, green jewel of the Commonwealth!” She turned to Nora and extended her hands. “You need to go there. To Diamond City!”

“Diamond City?” Nora tentatively pressed. “Where exactly is that?”

“Diamond City is the largest settlement in the Commonwealth, or, at the very least, it’s most prosperous,” Preston said, sending Mama Murphy a pointed look. “It’s where one of the strongest and most active radio signals in the Commonwealth comes from – Diamond City Radio – and also has its own government, agriculture, industry, education system, and, frankly, even nightlife. It’s in what I…if I remember correctly, it’s situated in what you would have known as Boston.”

“And it’s where you’ll find them!” Mama Murphy said, pulling Nora up from where she sat. “The Sight doesn’t lie, kid. Diamond City is where you’ll find what you need to find your son and husband. You need to go there. You must!”

“Mama Murphy, please, don’t force anything on her. I can’t even begin to imagine the state of shock she’s in,” Derek said before he turned back to Nora. “Do you even want to go to Diamond City?”

“If my son might be there, I’ll go anywhere,” She said. “And,” She sighed, briefly embracing Mama Murphy. “This is the best lead I have.”

"Get some sleep, kid, and then we'll talk it over," Mama Murphy told her with a smile. "You're tough. I can see it."

Railroad Headquarters
October the 26th, 2287
13:41

“Things seem to have come together quickly down here. All things considered, I’m impressed, Des.”

“Necessity speeds everything up. We had to move quickly. They destroyed the Switchboard and killed many of our own and far too many innocent synths to count, and that was only at the end of August. If we hadn’t moved as quickly as we have, the lives of many more synths would have been lost.”

With not a moment for hesitation, Desdemona shut the first of the doors into crypt, resetting the cipher, before following after her two companions through the second door which she subsequently shut and locked. Exhausted as she was, she still managed to smile when Tom and Deacon both began clapping the second she stepped into the chamber. The feeling of levity did not last. Almost as soon as it came, it faded, and she quickly stepped over to one of the chalkboards and began drawing. The signs. The signs she had long since committed to memory. In so many ways, they were the same, except for the symbols in the centre. Her hands began shaking, and she pressed harder into the chalk to keep the lines as straight and readable as possible. Eight lines, square box – a cache. Eight lines, plus sign – an ally. Eight lines, right pointing arrow – pointer. Eight lines, teardrop – a dead drop. Eight lines, square with a triangle on top – a safehouse. Six lines, an ‘x’ in the centre – danger. Danger. Danger. It was inescapable in a way –

“Des, are you alright?” Glory’s calm voice was quickly followed by a gentle and warm hand resting atop her own, still pressing the chalk into the board. “You’re shaking badly.”

She dropped the chalk. “I must be tired,” She said, turning around to face her. “I hope I didn’t worry you much, Glory. The last few weeks have been rather taxing on everyone.”

“Taxing is putting it lightly,” Tom put in. “The Institute found us after over fifty years, and killed a huge chunk of our agents and synths we were trying to rescue! I still don’t know how they figured that out!”

“I’ve long suspected they’ve had spies on the surface,” Desdemona said, running her hands through her hair. “Caravaners could be easy targets for them to use as spies. Find someone who is willing to feed them information, and buy their allegiance and silence. Or, more likely, threaten and then buy. Speaking of which, Hadley, have you heard any updates from the Randolph Safehouse?”

“No,” She said, looking rather resigned to the thought. “It’s been two years since we’ve received any updates out of there. I last spoke to the townspeople this past week, and all of them have expressed concern about the Institute returning to their town after a visit and kidnapping two years ago.”

“Was that verified to be the Institute’s doing?” Glory turned to her. “I thought we were still trying to find evidence for what happened.”

“I spoke to the girl’s father directly, this time he was willing to talk,” Hadley replied. “He provided me a holotape of the day an Institute agent came and first threatened him, his daughter, and the mayor. You all can take a listen to it for yourselves, but it was quite clear. According to her father, the Institute eventually promised to let her visit home, and sent two other people to the town to take her. He wouldn't say anything more than saying they were both women, and not the same man who came first and can be heard on the recording. Regardless, I’m unconvinced they’ve kept that promise, no matter what her father says. He’s grieving, after all.”

“It would be unlike the Institute to keep such a promise,” Tom agreed. “They’re messing with the Commonwealth, the atmosphere, and want to mutate the water! Not to mention they know about the aliens and have proof of them!”

“Tom, please,” Glory said, exasperated. “If the Institute were messing with the atmosphere or water, we would know by now and, as for aliens, I think we all know they would want nothing to do with this planet. I’m sure whatever their world is like is –”

“Maybe their planet is in worse ruin than ours!” Tom protested. “And, regardless, I want to know why the Institute keeps working to disprove my theory about the existence of Nuka Cola Strawberry. I can only imagine how refreshing that would be.”

Hadley eyed him strangely. “Even in the Capital Wasteland, there was no such thing as Nuka Cola Strawberry, and, had there been, I would have probably found it in the underground home I grew up in because the amount of Nuka Cola my parents and grandfather drink is almost a crime.”

“And, frankly, Nuka Cola Strawberry doesn’t sound refreshing,” Deacon remarked, pulling a chair over to the centre table, sitting down, and kicking his feet up. “It sounds disgusting. Strawberry milk is gross enough.”

“Aha!” Tom said, winking at him. “Strawberry milk hasn’t been a thing since before the War! You couldn’t have had anything but strawberry brahmin milk if you were born after the War, so, thanks for proving my time travel conjecture about you!”

Deacon rolled his eyes. “Didn’t think I needed to specify where most people get their milk from these days, and, if I really were a time traveller, would I let a timeline exist where you knew I knew?”

“That’s enough messing with each other for now,” Glory sent the two men a sharp look. “We have a lot to do. Tom, have you heard any updates from Patriot?”

“Yep!” He eagerly replied, logging into his terminal. “Patriot is going to be sending up three synths. One of them will need to be met at Bunker Hill with Old Man Stockton, one of them will need to be met up with at Ticonderoga, and one of them will need to be met up with just a little ways outside of Diamond City. Shouldn’t be too difficult to get them safely through into Goodneighbour so Amari can work her magic.”

Desdemona nodded. “Alright. Glory, meet up with the synth at Ticonderoga. Deacon, you’re familiar with Bunker Hill inside and out, so you’ll be going there. And, Hadley, since you and your family already live in Diamond City, I’ll be having you meet up with the synth there. We’ve got a long road ahead of us. Let’s hope the Institute don't find us again.”

Diamond City
October the 31st, 2287
20:23

“It’s Hallows Eve, you people need to have more fun. Besides, I thought we were celebrating Piper getting out of prison! The slammer ain't getting the charming Piper Wright back for a good long while!”

“Sure, but you need to lay off the chems, Cait. Just lay down, and try to sleep it off.”

Albeit rolling her eyes, Cait Felgate stumbled backwards and eventually laid (read: fell) onto the couch nearly the second her other three companions shut and locked the doors behind themselves. Looking somewhat exasperated, Piper went upstairs, muttering something about need to find a few spare blankets. Left with Cait, her wife – Lissy – and her little sister – Nat – shared a nervous look before setting off in opposite ends of the office. Nat stared at Cait for a few minutes while the woman quickly fell asleep. Once she was sure she was asleep, the thirteen year old took all of the chems she could find in the woman’s pockets and then went to hide them. Lissy went to the refrigerator and pulled out a Nuka Cola Cherry, popped off the cap, slipped it into the pocket of her leggings, and then slowly began to sip on it as she leaned back against the counter, half asleep herself and her glasses starting to slip down her face.

“I can’t believe Vadim gives her whatever chems she wants whenever she wants,” Piper said, returning with a blanket which she laid over Cait. “It’s not good for her.”

“Vadim isn’t exactly known for doing things that are good for him,” Lissy said with a shrug. “It’s a stupid thing to do, but his reasoning makes it worse. He always says it’s just because he admires the way she always beats the sh*t out of people in the Combat Zone.”

Piper grimaced. “The best place in the Commonwealth to go if you want to get killed.”

“And one of my least favourite places in the Commonwealth,” Lissy said, passing her a Nuka Cola. “I don’t know why anyone goes there willingly but, then again, it is mostly frequented by raiders.”

“Well, let’s just be glad raiders aren’t a problem in Diamond City,” Nat said, coming back from around her bookshelves and blanket fort. “And, if they were, we would write them out of town!”

“That’s the right attitude, kiddo!” Lissy said, high fiving the teenager. “What are you helping research and write this week?”

“It’s my idea, actually!” Nat proudly declared. “Piper promised she would take me to Goodneighbour to interview their mayor so we can show how different things are there! How their mayor doesn’t silence people like McDonough does!”

“I’ll let my mom know, then,” Lissy winked at her wife. “In case the bastard tries to lock you out of the city like he’s been threatening to, Piper. I don’t know when my dad will be back from his trip, so we can’t rely on him to get you two back in from the outside. The son of a bitch wouldn't let you two back in for me, unfortunately. What a pain in the ass.”

“I guess I made the right choice to marry someone from the upper stands,” Piper teased, reaching over to kiss her. “But you know I love you for much more than only that.”

Lissy smiled. “Don’t worry, Pipes," She said, brushing her waist length hair over her left shoulder. "I know.”

“I can’t wait to finally see Goodneighbour,” Nat dreamily remarked. “I’ve heard so much about it from traders coming in and out of the city.”

“Well, you need to thank Hadley for paying for her kid’s wife to get out of the ‘Piper Suite’ because we wouldn’t be going if it weren’t for that,” Piper reminded her before turning back to wife. “Still can’t believe she did that the day before your birthday last month, too, I mean, I –”

“She wasn’t going to let my wife miss my twenty second birthday, or our first wedding anniversary a few weeks later,” Lissy teased. “But you’re not wrong my mom has helped us out a lot. Not that she minds. Just about anything that annoys McDonough makes her happy.”

“McDonough is a dick,” Nat said, reaching for more paper for her clipboard. “And you can’t get him to tell you a damn thing no matter how nice you are about asking for it.”

“Is Cait teaching you how to swear?” Piper grinned when her little sister nodded. “Good. She’s the best person to teach someone to do that.”

“She really is,” Nat agreed, turning back to make sure the young woman was still alright and asleep. “I –”

Nat screamed when the door suddenly flung open behind them, causing Piper and Lissy to turn around, startled, only to feel rather silly upon seeing the woman anxiously standing in the doorway. Piper quickly waved her in, while Lissy shut and locked the door again as the woman sat down, shaking.

“Ellie?” Piper said, helping the shaking and crying woman sit down. “What’s going on? Not to be mean, but you look like hell.”

“He’s missing!” She hurriedly exclaimed. “Nick’s missing!”

“Nick? Of all people, he’s missing?” Piper stared at her, shocked as the detective's secretary broke down and realising the woman’s ordinarily pristine hair was almost as messed up and frassled as her own under her press hat. “When did he disappear?”

“A few days ago!” Ellie shuddered. “He told me was going to investigate a supposed kidnapping! He said it was by...by the triggermen!”

“Triggermen?” Piper repeated. “Did he say which syndicate?”

Ellie sniffled. “I think it’s Skinny Malone’s, but I could be wrong! Oh, I warned him it was a trap, that –”

“Calm down,” Piper said, gently holding down her shoulders. “Breathe, girl. Breathe.”

“He might have been going to a Vault!” Ellie said, trying to calm herself down as she spoke. “I can’t quite remember, but...but I don’t, I –”

“Hey, we’ll figure it out,” Lissy reassured her. “Start by going through what he has left behind. Then make a list of what he brought with him or likely brought with him. Compare them, and see what clues it yields. He wouldn’t have gone without a reason, and especially not without proof what he was looking for would be there.”

“That’s a good idea,” Piper agreed. “Did he leave any holotapes you know of, by chance?”

Ellie shook her head. “I’ll have to look…" She sniffed. "But he just did what he always does, just smiled and walked out of the door.”

Cambridge Police Station
November the 2nd, 2287
7:12

The sign was falling apart, but it was there nonetheless.

Cambridge Police Station.

Stepping out of the vertibird, the five Knights, the Scribe, and the Paladin quickly secured the machine on the roof before beginning into the station itself. The Scribe followed after the Paladin as he scaled down the fire escape. The Knights picked the lock of the rooftop entrance and quickly went down into the station, guns drawn. Just outside the walls of the police station were bodies. Bodies of innocent people. Bodies of raiders and ghouls and super mutants. The Knights quickly ran down the stairs into the station proper, ready to open fire, only to be relieved and surprised to find it empty of people. The Scribe and the Paladin quickly made their ways down to the ground, taking in the scene. The Scribe immediately began taking notes. As they had been told, the walls around the police station had been fortified by a team which had come before them. The perimeter seemed relatively secure. The Paladin gave orders over the radio. Soon after, the Knights opened the front doors to the police station, and gave them the all clear to enter. The Paladin took one last look around the perimeter, gave four of the Knights orders to continue to ensure its security, and then entered with the Scribe behind him.

“What a wreck,” The Paladin said, shaking his head. “This is worse than anything I've ever seen in the Capital Wasteland. Even under Elder Lyons, I never saw something quite so brutal. We should be relieved the Prydwen is meant to arrive in the Commonwealth sooner rather than later. Knight Rhys, would you concur with that statement?”

“I would, Paladin Danse,” The Knight said promptly, properly acknowledging him upon his entrance. “Especially considering one of our central tasks in being here.”

“Indeed,” Danse turned to the Scribe. “Scribe Haylen! Have you made any observations relevant to that mission?”

“I have seen no signs of synthetic beings, yet, sir,” The Scribe said. “I have made a note, however, a settlement that claims to be capable of identifying them with a simple, psychological test.”

Danse nodded. “You have permission to continue.”

“While communicating with a few of our ground teams, I was informed thrice of a settlement which refers to itself as Covenant,” She said, removing a few holotapes from a small pouch on her belt. “They have developed a psychological test they have dubbed the SAFE Test. The efficacy of their test is something they have yet to conclude, but they seem to be confident in it.”

“Fascinating,” Danse said mildly. “How did the teams come across this information?”

“One team entered the settlement undetected, and, as of August, were examining it, as it is so well sustained it looks to be pre-War,” Haylen replied. “This is how they learnt of the test as they were required to take it in order to be granted access to the settlement. All three teams have heard of a place referred to as ‘the Compound’ by the town's people. It seems this place could be where they have developed the test. However, all of our teams – including those investigating this town – went dark at the end of September. It is unclear if the two things are related.”

“Thank you for the information and report,” Danse said, taking the holotapes from her. “I will attempt to communicate with our preceding teams and, if they are still active, have them continue to observe this settlement and ascertain more information regarding this potential ‘Compound.’ Any manners by which these locals could have for identifying synthetics and destroying them will be incredibly useful to us, as will be any information they may provide about this ‘Institute’ we have heard much talk about.”

“Well said. May I ask what our primary mission is, here, Paladin?” Rhys said, standing at attention. “Now we have ensured the security of this location?”

“As Recon Squad Gladius, we are to continue the work begun by the MIA Recon Squad Artemis,” Danse said, beginning to pace. “We are to look for and retrieve both valuable pre-War and post-War documents and technology. We are also meant to locate Paladin Brandis, should he still be alive, and to retrieve the bodies of our Brothers from Recon Squad Artemis who more than likely have perished in combat, however it is not to be a priority. Should they not also be MIA, our covert comrades will continue their work in the region to provide us the best understanding possible of it before the arrival of the Prydwen.”

“Understood, thank you sir,” Rhys turned to Haylen. “Have you any further information for us at this time, Scribe Haylen?”

“I do not,” She said. “Shall we set up a computer terminal for the recording of information and the documentation of resources?”

“We shall,” Rhys replied. “You ought to begin as soon as possible.”

Haylen nodded. “Understood.”

“It would be most prudent to establish power within the old structures already present,” Danse said, taking a quick glance at his surroundings. “This should not prove too difficult a task. I will ask one of the other Knights to assist you so as to expediate the process.”

“Thank you, sir,” Haylen replied. “Is there anything else I ought to know before beginning my sweep of the area?”

“Check for usable supplies, medical or otherwise,” Danse ordered. “As well as anything that looks to be notably pre-War and/or valuable. We cannot be careless. Everything we do here must be intentional. We have an important mission, after all.”

The Institute
November the 13th, 2287
11:39

“How is work going for the two of you? Or shall I tell you how work is going in my Division?”

Nearly the moment the words left him, Dr. Alan Binet laughed as he sat down across from the Filmore couple, both of whom seemed briefly startled. For her part, Dr. Allison Filmore merely rolled her eyes when she looked up to see the head of Institute Robotics and his jovial smile. Beside her, her husband, Dr. Nathan Filmore, was much more amused, and met Binet’s smile with one of his own. Work has been stressful these past few weeks for everyone, yes, but I do worry it’s making Allie painfully tense. She’s under so much pressure, and… He took a look between his wife and their colleague before returning to continue eating his lunch, a bit lost in thought. Madison is pushing the Division to the breaking point. Hopefully Allie and I aren’t becoming an undue stress on Janet with how many nights she looks after Quentin as well as her own children. After a moment of hesitation, Nathan looked back up at his wife and their colleague only to grimace at the look Alan gave him.

“Is Quentin misbehaving in Robotics?” Nathan uncomfortably asked. “He's already gotten into trouble again just last week for stealing high grade stimulants.”

Alan gaped at him. “He didn’t inject himself with them to attempt to get ahead at school, did he?”

“Hardly,” Allie said irritably. “He snuck into the Bioscience Division and injected the gorillas with them.”

“Did he?” Alan laughed. “Apologies, Dr. Filmore, but I’m rather impressed by that. Quentin is a brilliant child, much like both yourself and your husband.”

“He is, but he doesn’t apply himself,” Nathan shook his head. “Allie and I have tried for awhile to figure out what could motivate him to focus in school, but we’re struggling. Truthfully, I think it is partially our fault because we haven’t been able to spend as much time with him in the last few months, but especially the last few weeks.”

“I’m sure he can tell you care,” Alan said kindly. “He may only be eight, but he’s more perceptive than a great deal of people would assume.”

“He is,” Allie said with a bit of a smile. “I think he might perk up a bit after Nathan and I talk to him tonight. We’ve been waiting to tell him about this for awhile, but we’re finally ready to.”

Alan raised an eyebrow. “I suppose I’ll have to wait to ask the boy myself tomorrow, then. But enough of that, I’m so sorry to worry the two of you about Quentin. Do the two of you want to know about the latest out of Robotics?”

“Depends,” Allie replied. “Will it be news that will negatively impact work on Phase Three?”

“No, nothing like that,” Alan said. “I wouldn’t dare say that to anyone unless it were before the rest of the Directorate. Actually, I wanted to ask what the two of you think about the sentience of our Gen 3s.”

Nathan sighed. “It’s hard to tell. I’m certainly no expert in communication or psychology.”

“I would usually concur, but I will admit I tend to assume they’re sentient,” Allie paused. “I find myself frequently forgetting they aren’t human. Though I would say none of this to Dr. Ayo, of course.”

“No one wants to say anything to Dr. Ayo,” Alan shrugged. “I’ve noticed even Father and Mister Nate avoid him as best they can. I believe they only speak to him to avoid speaking to Conrad.”

“Conrad Kellogg,” Nathan swore under his breath. “That man is less a man and more a brute. I reckon he’s worse than some of those raiders in the Commonwealth.”

“I have no desire to find out, but I would tend to agree,” Alan said, unsettled at the thought of the man. “I do hope he hasn’t been bothering Miss Spencer. He gave her and her town quite the fright when he first showed up there.”

“Conrad never should have been sent to recruit someone to the Institute, much less someone so young,” Allie sighed. “She seems to have adjusted well these last two years, though. I’m glad Shaun assigned her to live with myself and Nathan. She’s a sweet girl, even tutors Quentin. It’s hard to remember, sometimes, that she’s only sixteen.”

“Speaking of Jacq, we did tell her Madison is accompanying her to the surface to visit her father and town next week, didn’t we?” Nathan smiled when she nodded. “Good. The two of them seem to work rather well together, though I’ll admit I was a bit surprised, at first.”

“Dr. Li can be a tough nut to crack,” Alan agreed. “But she has affection in her. Father wouldn’t have suggested she go to the surface with you, Allie, to recruit Miss Spencer if he hadn’t thought she would prove useful in persuading the town and recruiting a valuable asset.”

“Well, regardless, she is much more than just a brilliant girl but kind and deeply empathetic,” Nathan sighed. “I will never cease to be impressed by her demanding to meet a prominent Institute scientist to Conrad and one of our small, surface teams. She risked everything in doing that, and she did it in the name of ensuring her town would be taken care of should she leave it.”

“She was also incredibly lucky,” Alan reminded him. “Though, as you know, I feel similarly on the subject. On the few occasions I’ve worked with her, she’s provided insight into my projects I don’t think anyone else could have. She is living proof the surface is not as bad nor as hostile as we have so long assumed. It sounds like hell compared to here, of course, but it’s certainly not a lost cause.”

“If the circ*mstances were more…controllable, I would be curious to observe it,” Allie confessed. “But we have far too much to worry about down here for now before we can consider things topside. Certainly in Facilities and Advanced Systems, at the very least.”

“Perhaps you should accompany your foster daughter on her next trip to the surface, then,” Alan remarked. “I imagine Dr. Li would appreciate the company from one of her close colleagues.”

“Perhaps I shall,” Allie replied, sharing a knowing look with her husband. “I have not been since Madison and I brought Jacq home, and, of course, it is the most controlled environment we can manage.”

Chapter 2: Something Promising

Chapter Text

Vault 114
November the 14th, 2287
23:23

In his line of work, everyone knew the dangers of taking on any case, especially missing person’s cases in the Commonwealth, and most especially missing person’s cases out of Diamond City.

What Nick Valentine had not known was he would himself become a missing person.

Vault 114. It was never going to be a particularly pleasant place, not with the people he knew would be there, but he hadn’t expected it to be something of a living hell. He had not expected, either, to find the woman he had been sent to find had left of her own accord. sh*t, Darla, how many times have you caused your parents to have to send people after you? First the ‘Pillars Of The Community’ nonsense, then Covenant, and, now, this? Finding you on your way home from Covenant was the only good thing about that. Those people seemed unsettled by me. But this? Taking up with a meat head like Skinny? You have got to be kidding me… He sighed, and sat down against one of the tables stuck in the room he had been locked up in. The room was larger than he had expected it to be, but had grown to be little more than a slightly nicer prison. At least, compared to the prison in Diamond City. Wonder if they’ve got the young woman who writes the paper still locked up in there. She's a good one, Piper, and she doesn't deserve to be constantly in and out of prison. He sighed, and took a look around the room. The Vault 114 Overseer’s Office. Had Vault-Tec been successful, the Vault would be filled with either wealthy or formerly wealthy people. It wasn’t entirely clear, not from what he had been able to find in the room.

Vault-Tec and the Vaults were, themselves, a rabbit hole he had begun down at more than one time over the past three decades alone. Being locked in the Overseer’s Office of a Vault would have, at one point, been something of a dream. This, however, was far from any good or mildly intriguing dream.

“You going to let me out of here, at some point, Dino?” Nick finally said, caught somewhere between boredom and annoyance. “Or are you just going to leave me in here until Skinny gets tired of this damn charade?”

“Skinny knows what he’s doing,” Dino said, kicking against the magnetically locked door. “This excite you, Valentine? Some sounds of metal getting beat?”

“You talking about me?” Nick scoffed. “I’m not just metal, Dino,” He said, losing all of the sarcasm in his voice. “I’m a synth. Synthetic man. All the parts, minus a few red blood cells. How many chems are you on? Or is Skinny still hoarding chems for himself?”

“If you mean you got an idea of where Marowski’s chem lab is, then you’ll probably be able to get out of here if you cough that up,” Dino replied. “Unless you’ve been lying all this time and are just waiting for the Institute to come get you.”

“The Institute have no interest in me, I think we’d know by now if they had wanted me,” Nick told him. “If they wanted something to do with me, they would have come and found me sometime sooner after they wiped my damned brain somewhere around a century ago. Make of that what you will, Dino, but I’m far from an Institute priority, if that’s what you’re thinking.”

“Keep running your mouth, Valentine,” Dino said, rummaging through one of his bags. “It will be at least entertaining for me, whether you’re lying or not. Why don’t we get back around to the thing that might actually get you out of here: Marowski.”

“Marowski is a pain in the ass who has his lackeys muscle people up around Goodneighbour,” Nick said irritably. “I’ve had a few interactions with him over the years, and they weren’t good. He’s never been a fan of me, and certainly not enough to show or tell me about where he makes or keeps his chems.”

“Great,” Dino said, lighting up a cigarette. “What else are you lying about?”

“Why would I lie about something that stupid?” Nick said, rolling his eyes. “You really think I wouldn’t hand over Marowski to Skinny to get out of a place like this? You’re even dumber than I thought.”

“Guess it’s hard to seem intelligent to someone like you,” Dino said, puffing on his cigarette. “You know, because you’re a goddamn synth. I would kill to know what you’ve got going on in there. Got to admit, I’m real jealous.”

“Maybe if you took the time to do something other than being a hired gun for Skinny, you could outsmart him and take this whole operation out,” Nick said, swinging his legs back and forth from where he was sat atop one of the desks. “And, afterwards, maybe you could take up Marowski’s chem lab. Or you could take up with another aspiring crime boss in Goodneighbour. Bobbi No Nose comes to mind.”

Dino snorted. “Who the hell would refer to Marowski as anything but a former crime boss? Losing your touch, are you, Valentine?”

“Former crime bosses can aspire to be back in the swing of things again,” Nick said, coughing a bit. “You know, it may not waft in here, but I can still smell that god awful cig you’re smoking, Dino, even if the air in here stays relatively clean. Thank God, for me, at least. You should find a new drug of choice. I’ve heard mentats can be good fun.”

“If I want to take hard drugs, I’m going to start taking some psycho,” Dino said, kicking the door again to try to startle the aged detective. “Maybe then Skinny will give me better work than playing babysitter to you, or whomever else he decides to hold hostage. The hell made you think coming after him would be a bright idea, anyways?”

“Darla’s parents were real worried about her, not that she or any of you assholes care, clearly,” Nick said irritably. “And all signs seemed to be that Skinny kidnapped her. Guess we were the fools for not calling bullsh*t on her stunts by now. This isn’t the first time she’s run off with a lover, and definitely won’t be the last, not if she doesn’t stop hanging around with that girl, Emogene Cabot, I think, her name is.”

“Sounds like a you problem, not one for the rest of us,” Dino taunted. “Darla’s doing just dandy for herself, and hooking up with Skinny, even for a short while, is a pretty damn good deal.”

Nick snickered. “Speaking from experience, I hope?”

Dino stubbed out his cigarette, briefly imagining it to be the detective’s head.

“Oh, shut your f*cking mouth, you old pervert.”

Cambridge Police Station
November the 16th, 2287
17:15

“I received a transmission, a short one, from Elder Maxson now I've gotten the amplifier to our radio beacon and signaller running on the roof of the police station. He has a short reply for you, Paladin Danse, and a rather important one concerning the Prydwen. Our Brothers did quite well in retrieving the last part we needed to guarantee the signaller's operation from ArcJet Systems. I'm quite proud to be serving with them and you, Paladin.”

“Thank you for the report, Scribe Haylen. Ad Victoriam.”

“Ad Victoriam, Paladin Danse.”

With a short bow, the Scribe exited the room, leaving the Paladin to his thoughts. More importantly, she left him to his computer terminal, in which he inserted the holotape she had handed him with the reply and set it to play. In such a short time, as was expected of them as Reconnaissance Squad Gladius, they had established a secure checkpoint within which the Brotherhood could continue to expand operations within the Commonwealth. An odd place lay beyond its walls, a place bound not by reason, logic, or hierarchy but by ruthlessness, hedonism, and violence. This odd place was quite the spectacle, as well, in no small part due to those qualities which seemed to pervade every piece of it, no matter how miniscule. This odd place, too, was filled to the brim and overflowing with creatures – if they could even be called such – which were barely even human. Savages. Abominations. Some of them, the Paladin reasoned, were worth sympathy. Ghouls, feral or otherwise, came to mind. Others, however, needed to be eliminated. Super mutants. His nose began to wrinkle in disgust at just the mere thought. The Brotherhood’s intelligence had suggested they, too, were created by the Institute, an organisation centred on destroying the sacred vessels of true, pure life.

Super mutants, however, were not their worst creation, not in the slightest. They alone would not have been enough for the Brotherhood to move so quickly towards the Commonwealth in just a few short years of intelligence, reconnaissance, and preparation. Indeed, as Elder Maxson had made clear, it was not a decision made lightly, nor was it one which should be taken lightly.

No, the worst creations of the Institute were what the Brotherhood had identified as synths. Disgruntled at the notion, the Paladin stepped out of his power armour by the window, and took in the slowly falling night below and outside.

The ambushes by gunners and raiders were only the tip of the iceberg of the depravity in this place once renowned for its intellectually bound institutions. The Paladin frowned as his thoughts began to meander. They are a mild nuisance. The real enemy is much more subtle, and, in that sense, they are much more dangerous and mutable.

The Paladin shut the windows fully as wind began to fly in. He listened as it pounded against them before relenting into a dull whimper. He took in the room, now air tight, and took in a deep breath of relief he methodically let out.

Then, after a moment of stretching, consideration, and ensuring he would not be eavesdropped on nor disturbed, the Paladin sat down before his terminal and began to write.

Elder Maxson, Lancer Captain Kells –

It is with the most duty bound spirit that I offer this impassioned plea. In this reply, I am requesting access to the list of former Brotherhood members whom themselves may be lost in the Commonwealth. If we are to truly carry out our mission and save mankind from itself in this place, then it is my conviction we must take the noble route of extending the olive branch to our former Brothers and Sisters. Though some of them may have left the Brotherhood in disgrace, to give them the opportunity to redeem themselves is one way by which we can show not only them but the entire Commonwealth our intentions are to promote stability, safety, and security for all of its people.

My beseeching aside, I am prepared to take under my charge any of our Brothers and Sisters you may deem necessary to aiding our operations in establishing control of the situation in Cambridge. From local talk, I have heard rumours we may be nearby the Institute in this place. Any additional reconnaissance could prove invaluable, and I am more than willing, prepared, and happy to assist in this 'Institute’s' destruction in any manner deemed necessary. Additionally, if any work is required to upkeep and protect the Prydwen once you are able to arrive with it, I would be most humbled to be a part of such a historic event. Our mission is a grave one which we have undertaken as a solemn oath to protect and preserve humanity. Should the Brotherhood fall and crumble, so too will humanity. I shall do everything with the power vested in me by my charters and commands to carry out this mission. Indeed, it is one we must not fail.

Ad Victoriam,

Paladin Jackson Roger Danse

His mind growing a tad weary, the Paladin retrieved a blank holotape from within the desk his terminal was sat upon. Almost robotically, he loaded it into the terminal upon the ejection of the one his most trusted Scribe had brought him, and awaited the message to be downloaded to the tape. Come the morning, at precisely 05:00, he would bring the tape up to the rooftop of the dilapidated police station so the Knight could take it and attempt to reach the weak radio signal connecting them to the Prydwen four hundred and forty one miles away in the Capital Wasteland. Catching him by surprise, a smile began to cross his otherwise stern and certain countenance. Nothing in the message was untrue. Some of it, he reasoned, could be quite the understatement. Soon enough, the time would come for the people of the Commonwealth to learn of the Prydwen. It would be not a threat nor menace, nor would it be an Institute ploy. If it were anything, the Prydwen was, in and of itself, the physical embodiment of the Institute’s antithesis. Within its hallowed, metal walls, the people it held were themselves the living and physical embodiment of the Institute’s antithesis. He stood up, and approached the window by which his power armour was standing. It, too, was a reminder of the sacred mission.

“Ad Victoriam, so the future of this Commonwealth can be a prosperous one,” The Paladin said, rolling his shoulders back with a heavy sigh. “Ad Victoriam for today, for tomorrow, and for always.”

The Commonwealth
November the 20th, 2287
12:49

“Sorry for making you wait,” Derek said, helping pull Nora up onto a strip of old highway. “None of us expected some of those raiders from Concord to follow us all the way to Sanctuary, and with the detour when we took Preston to –”

“It’s alright, breathe,” Nora said, waiting for the already pale man to regain some colour to his face as he caught his breath. “I didn’t expect it to be a clear shot to Diamond City, and I had no expectations for it to take less than at least a few weeks. I don’t mind the pace we’ve had to take at all, and, like Preston said: we’re stronger if we stick together.”

“He’s right,” Derek nodded shortly, reloading his gun. “And thank you again for taking me to your Vault. I know it must have been painful, but I hope you know there’s a reason for it. A necessary reason, if I’m being completely honest.”

“You needed twelve Pip-Boys, it was the only place to find them,” Nora eyed him strangely as he adjusted his backpack on his shoulders. “You briefly mentioned it, but why do you need them?”

“Well, six of them are for me, my wife, and our four kids,” Derek briefly chuckled but quickly lost all humour to his voice. “The other six are needed for…friends of my wife. They do important work, work which could really benefit from these. I’m just glad I was able to find them rather quickly.”

Nora managed half a smile. “You seem familiar enough with Vaults. Research I assume?”

“Research, as well as my time as a Knight Captain in the Brotherhood Of Steel, back in the Capital Wasteland, where, the more you know, the better able to negotiate you are,” He replied as they began walking again. “When my family and I relocated here and to Diamond City, I had to turn over my power armour, but I kept a few things I perhaps was not supposed to. Regardless, I won’t bore you with stories of then.”

“Give me at least a little,” Nora said with a shrug. “I know next to nothing about the Capital Wasteland, and, truthfully, there’s a lot I wish I knew about the Commonwealth...in the state it's in now, anyways.”

“I think we all feel that way these days,” Derek shook his head. “We had actually lived farther south, in the Virginia Commonwealth, where my wife’s family home underground is,for several years before moving closer to the Brotherhood’s base of operations, called the Citadel. We lived closer to it in Rivet City until we...ended up here. I spent a lot of time away from home for Brotherhood work, but it was good money and, at the time, a good service. But they’ve lost their way since I left. That was why I left in the first place.”

“With a name like the Brotherhood Of Steel, I suppose it makes sense they could lose their way,” Nora paused in thought. “In terms of serving the people, that is.”

“We were meant to protect people, not harm anyone unless we had to,” Derek said grimly. “My family and I were sent here because I defended – with my life – the right of people who called themselves the ‘Children Of Atom’ to worship in peace.”

Nora eyed him strangely. “Children Of Atom? Who are they?”

“A religious…movement of sorts,” Derek explained. “To say the very least, they’re an odd crew, worship radiation and, at one point, an undetonated nuclear warhead which was, thankfully, quickly neutralised and disarmed. It can no longer explode or do damage. That was not enough for our leadership, however. They wanted to kill them.”

“I can see why you left,” Nora said, drawing her gun upon hearing shouting in the distance. “f*ck, not more raiders.”

“We can go around them, this way,” Derek said, motioning for her to quickly and quietly follow him over an old bridge. “We step down from the highway, cross the bridge, and follow the signs towards Diamond City. We should be there by nightfall, if all goes well.”

“Wait,” Nora said, pausing in the centre of the bridge and grabbing his wrist to stop him from going too far ahead. “You said you need half of the Pip-Boys for important work your wife and her friends do. Do they work in Diamond City.”

“In a manner of speaking,” Derek said shortly. “It will be best if you meet her first. I’m not at liberty to explain.”

“Alright,” Nora took a look at the river still flowing beneath them. The War hasn’t changed everything, so much is still where I remember. But some of the most important things aren’t. “What’s your wife’s name again?”

“Hadley,” Derek replied. “Her name is Hadley.”

Nora nodded. “What does she look like?”

“She’s just as pale as myself and our kids but her hair is a much darker brown than mine,” He said with a slightly wistful smile. “She’s petite, too, only 5’0” but, if I may be completely forthright with you, I…our family and I believe wholeheartedly in what she does, and I promise it will save lives.”

“As long as it saves lives, I’m listening and happy to help,” Nora sighed. “I want more than anything to save my son, to find him, and Nate. But, as much as I hate it, I know things could be…there are things I may never know or find, no matter how desperate I am for answers or to find them.”

“Don’t give up hope,” Derek said, jumping over a ledge and onto a main road. “You haven’t been out here very long. None of you have.”

“Wherever they are, I just hope they’re together,” Nora said softly, flinching at the sounds of shouting and gunshots ringing out in the distance before they continued off in the opposite direction. “And I hope they escaped whoever took them.”

“I think I might know someone who could help you in looking for them,” Derek told her. “But that will have to wait until we reach Diamond City, if only because he lives and works there.”

“I…thank you,” Nora said, swallowing hard. “I’m sorry. I…I…”

“Please, don’t worry about being emotional,” Derek kindly said. “You have every reason to be. Frankly, it would be more shocking if you took everything in stride.”

Nora laughed a little. “I appreciate the consideration. For now…let’s keep up the pace.”

The Institute
November the 23rd, 2287
21:12

“Are you feeling alright? I’m sure the scans and blood draws this last week have been draining.”

“I believe I only need rest. Please don’t worry too much for my sake, not now.”

“You’re my son, Shaun. As your mother had, I’ll always worry about you no matter how old we become.”

Of all the things which had changed since that one fateful day in 2077, the one which had not was the bond between the father and the then infant who had stepped into Vault 111. Sitting down across from each other on a balcony overlooking much of the Institute below, Nathaniel Norwich and Shaun Norwich were briefly able to forget how different their lives were than what life looked like when they entered Vault 111. Nathaniel sighed, and began to drink some water a synth had brought to them for the purpose. The two men found themselves, for a moment, lost in thought. Shaun’s suggestion to release Nora is something that should have been done long before. If only he and I could have had a chance to reunite with her sooner. Damn the former Director. She handled everything all wrong. Separating a family is something no one should do. Nora. I wonder if you’ll remember us, and still care. Will you still call me Nate in the way you had all those years ago, or will you reject us? Reject me, and our son? Though life was going on all around them, everything felt still in his body and mind. To remember the first twenty five years of his life was to immerse himself in a world of pain and dizzying memory. Everyone in Vault 111 but Nora had been released at the same time they were. Nearly everyone he had ever known were long gone or, at the very least, long lost.

If only Shaun had been able to know his grandparents. They would be so proud of him, just as I am.

“Things have been going quite well around here, lately,” Nate observed. “Though I am concerned about some of our ongoing surface operations. Destroying the headquarters of the so-called Railroad over the summer seems to have only emboldened them.”

“It’s quite strange,” Shaun agreed. “What is just as strange is their leader. I believe her name is Desdemona, if our intelligence is completely accurate.”

“I would need to look again, but that is the name I recall, yes,” Nate said with a sigh. “I will never understand that woman. She’s not the type of person who can be reasoned with.”

“I will admit, I could be interested in a conversation with her,” Shaun said tiredly. “But I have no desire to talk things out with her. You’re absolutely correct: she cannot be reasoned with.”

“It’s a shame, what has become of the Commonwealth,” Nate shook his head. “I only wish you could remember some of what the world was like before. It was a wonderful world, albeit an imperfect one. But, now, it can only be described as…”

He trailed off, batting away something from the edge of the balcony. A nuisance. It had been flitting up and down for nearly half an hour.

Dr. Holdren needs to slow the Synth Zoological Initiative. I’ve been seeing far too many synth bees around the Institute lately. They’re a nuisance…although not unlike the real ones from before the War.

What neither Nate or Shaun knew was the synth bees were a much smaller piece of Clayton Holdren’s passion project than they had been beginning to believe.

What neither man knew was two young kids had been listening in on them nearly the entire time through a miniscule camera and recorder they had attached to one of Clayton’s synth bees.

Quickly flying the synth bee away from the Director and his father, sixteen year old Jacqueline Spencer and eight year old Quentin Filmore hurriedly pulled the remote earbuds out of their ears. They began walking as though they had been doing nothing out of the ordinary, and both of them let out a sigh of relief when they realised they were only being taken of note by a few synths preoccupied by whatever else they were already doing. Within a few seconds of the two adoptive siblings beginning up the stairs to the family apartment, Jacqueline caught the synth bee in her hands and slipped it into her pocket. I can remove the device and discreetly return it to Dr. Holdren later. It had become almost a routine for the siblings since they had first been introduced two years prior. Every so often, the siblings would become curious about one or more of the Institute’s personnel. It was the Director and his father whom the siblings found themselves most often curious about. Even as they swiped their ID cards to get back into the family apartment, it was clear both of them were bursting with things to say.

“Jacq, is the surface really as bad as Mister Nate says?” Quentin stared at his sister with wide eyes when the doors to the family apartment closed. “Since you’re from there and go back sometimes?”

“It can be,” Jacq said, walking towards her room to brush out her hair again. “But only in some places. It wasn’t bad where I’m from. And Dr. Li came from an even more broken part of the surface, the former Capital! The surface is okay if you’re in the right places, great even. You just have to be careful.”

“Is that why mom only sometimes goes up there?” Quentin pressed. “And only in a super strong hazmat suit? Do you ever need one of those?”

“I don’t,” Jacq replied. “Dr. Li doesn’t always go up in a hazmat suit, either. But Allie has never lived on the surface, so I get why she’s paranoid. I think I would be too.”

“I guess that makes sense,” Quentin shrugged but then suddenly perked up upon the doors to the family apartment opening again. He suddenly ran to the doors, and grinned when he saw his father, who embraced him briefly. “Jacq has some really interesting stories about the surface! Have you ever gone?”

“Not since I came here,” Nathan said, laughing a moment with his son. “Is your mother home yet?”

Quentin shook his head. “Did she have to see the people doctor again or is she still working? You know, I hope she has a girl, because I want a little sister since I already have a big sister.”

“The baby isn’t big enough to tell yet, Quentin,” Nathan said, unable to hide his amusem*nt. “Now, please tell me you haven’t been giving Jacq trouble with studying after school today.”

Railroad Headquarters
November the 24th, 2287
13:31

“He’s got them. Derek managed to get all six, working Pip-Boys Tom said he needed.”

Not giving her the chance to react after she set down the bag with six Pip-Boys inside, the eccentric inventor and codebreaker tightly embraced Hadley, startling her. Desdemona and Glory quickly pulled him off her, and Tom gave them all a somewhat goofy grin. Stepping into the room from analysing PAM, Deacon lit up a cig and began clapping, dramatically taking his sunglasses off with his free hand. On the other side of the room, Drummer Boy grimaced upon Tom pulling out a box filled with a variety pack of Nuka Colas, setting them down on top of all of the maps laid out on the centre table. Glory began to mutter something under her breath, something he assumedwould be along the lines of sarcastic things she had said before. Hadley merely watched, seemingly amused, and Desdemona, similarly, watched the two men go back and forth as they so often did. In some ways, the day, so far, was one of the best they had been given in a long time. Everything about the playful arguing, and the way things seemed to, for once, be stable for them was a relief. In an ideal world, things would stay this way, and they would be able to calmly, happily, and easily help synths. The Institute would be a minor annoyance. But none of that was a reality, and never was going to be long term. Not now. Not in the state of the world as it stood.

“Nuka Cola Strawberry will be found, one of these days,” Tom said, leaning across the table. “You will be proven wrong, Deacon.”

“Right, right,” Deacon rolled his eyes, taking a draw on his cig. “You know, if you find that sh*t, it probably is going to be some experimental bullsh*t.”

“Or it will taste disgusting,” Hadley said, her nose wrinkling at the thought. “Nuka Cola and anything remotely similar to a strawberry should not coalesce in a flavour profile. Just the thought of it sounds awful. I won’t be surprised if something like that ends up tasting like battery acid.”

“You mean like Nuka Cola Cranberry?” Glory rolled her eyes. “I tried that, once. It was revolting.”

“Nothing is worse than Nuka Cola Grape, at least according to my kids,” Hadley remarked. “I happen to agree with them. It tastes like cough syrup. Even Derek thinks that, and he likes just about every kind of Nuka Cola he has ever come across.”

“I may be biased, but I happen to enjoy Nuka Cola Orange, whenever I can come across it,” Desdemona said, lighting a cig of her own. “But I, admittedly, have sought out Quantum when I’ve needed to be able to stay up all night or for a few days, at times.”

“Desdemona, please,” Carrington looked up from the microscope slides he had been taking notes on. “I hope you know how awful Quantum is for you. Or anyone, for that matter.”

“You’re free to test any Nuka Colas that come into HQ for their rad levels if it would make you feel better,” Desdemona replied. “Would that satisfy you, as a practitioner of medicine?”

Carrington gave her a disgruntled scowl. “You’re taking your health far too flippantly, Desdemona, something which you always have, infuriatingly, done.”

“She has a morbid sense of humour, Doc,” Glory said, crossing her arms. “I thought we all accepted that by now. Even Tom plays into it.”

“Of course I do,” Tom said, winking at her and Desdemona. “We have to find ways to lighten the mood around here every so often.”

“I agree,” Deacon said, chewing on the edge of his sunglasses. “We talk about heavy sh*t around here. I mean, we even have some of our agents referred to as ‘Heavys’ because of the work they do. So a bit of levity is called for, you know. Give it a think, Carrington.”

“Deacon,” The doctor irritably said. “Considering the odd things you’ve been known to consider ‘levity,’ I really don’t think you should be dominating a conversation on the subject.”

“I mean, listen, come on,” Deacon said, laughing. “I do and say odd things all the time. Calm down, Carrington, everyone knows I am –”

“You’re just trying to confuse us, now,” Tom pulled a Nuka Dark from the crate and pushed it across the table towards him. “You also are a time traveller, and you know it.”

“Alright, that’s enough,” Desdemona said, tiredly waving a hand. “We do have something to genuinely celebrate. Tom,” She smiled when the eccentric inventor perked up. “How long will it take you to analyse and adapt the Pip-Boys for our purposes?”

“I need to add some strong stealth technology to them,” He eagerly replied. “Especially for you and Glory. I’ll probably make some Tinker Tom specialities for my own, and we’ll figure things out for the shared ones for the other Heavys to use.”

“I’m looking forward to getting to see what you do with them,” Deacon said almost wistfully. “You do a lot of cool sh*t off the cuff sometimes.”

“Well, regardless, we’ll figure the needs for the other three Pip-Boys as we go along,” Desdemona said, tapping excess ash off her cig. “Focus on the three immediate alterations. At the end of the day, they’re a new tool to make it easier for us to continue our work against the Institute.”

“Indeed. Though, I must ask,” Carrington put in, eyeing the rest of the group closely. “How did Derek manage to find the Pip-Boys to begin with?”

“He and the Minutemen have a new friend, actually, herself only having woken up in a Vault recently. It’s not the right time yet, of course, but…” Hadley shook her head. “I do wonder if she could be helpful to us in our fight to save as many synths as we can, especially after what the Institute did to the Switchboard.”

“So, once again we are interloping with the Minutemen,” Deacon smirked. “It’s a good partnership, even if they don’t know much about us if they know anything at all. Though I get the sense that their leader…his name is Preston, right? I get the sense that he would be all in favour with our cause. He cares a lot about the good people of the Commonwealth. And I can just about guarantee you that extends to synths.”

Carrington eyed him strangely. “You say this as though you have inside knowledge on it.”

“My job is to gather intel on people of interest,” Deacon shrugged. “He works with Lay’s husband, and I’ve been shadowing the traveller,” He gave Hadley an apologetic look. “The woman who came out of the Vault. I’ve been shadowing her because I think it’s fascinating. When was the last time anyone heard anything about activity out of that Vault? Vault 111, isn’t it? Actually, wait! PAM! Do you –”

“Our records indicate the only other time, since the War of October the 23rd, 2077, Vault 111 has been active was about sixty years ago when there was a mass exodus from the Vault,” PAM walked into the room upon being called from the mainframe. “Their activities afterward were menial. They all entered the Commonwealth and resumed their lives. Only one person did not emerge. Cross-checking with citizenship and registration records from 2000 until 2077.”

“See!” Deacon exclaimed almost too excitedly. “This is a big break! The traveller could be the sole survivour of the Vault post 2227! From what I’ve seen, even when they weren’t with Derek or the Minutemen, they seem to be compassionate and reasonable! Frankly, my hope is that we can recruit them in this time of –”

“You’re rushing to conclusions, Deacon,” Glory calmly put in. “And please don’t compromise the security standards you’ve worked so hard to build with Des and Carrington off a leap of hope.”

“Don’t worry, I won’t,” Deacon sighed. “But, come on. Don’t you guys have any faith in me?”

“That’s not a question you want honest answers to,” Carrington warned him. “Certainly not from me.”

“Regardless, I’ll admit this development is intriguing,” Desdemona said, sending them both a pointed look. “I say we all should keep an eye on this, and wait to make any decisions until we are certain we know what we are getting into. The lives of so many synths are at stake. We owe it to them to be cautious, even at the detriment of broadening our operations and extending the cause to free them.”

Chapter 3: Something Blue

Chapter Text

Covenant
November the 25th, 2287
18:12

The reports had perhaps been an understatement. The settlement was far more than just a settlement but a small town, one which did, as had been told to them, look as though it were pre-War. The painted sign above the doors into the settlement, through its protective barricades, only emphasised its difference to the world around it. In bright yellow paint, against a bright blue arch and a deep green slate below, the sign declared: Welcome To Covenant. Something about the place seemed both comforting and unsettling. The Scribe and the Knight glanced to each other, shifting the bags on their shoulders. There was something strange about not being in uniform and dressed as though they were any other local denizen, not a Sister and Brother of the Brotherhood Of Steel. Simple t-shirts and jeans, a gun and ammo cartridges on their hips and belts, with padded leather jackets and comfortable combat boots. In their bags were armour, weapons, additional ammo cartridges, recording devices and holotapes, their Brotherhood holotags, and distress pulsers should they be needed. After a moment, the Scribe and the Knight approached the gates, and met the eager smile of the man sitting just before it.

“Heya, strangers!” The man said, standing up and clasping his hands together with a smile. “The name’s Swanson. Are you here to visit Covenant? If not, move along. You know, armed people loitering around…it ain’t good for the nerves.”

“We’re here to visit,” Knight Rhys said, glancing to Scribe Haylen as she subtly switched a holotape on to recording. “May we enter?”

Swanson eyed them closely. “Have either of you visited before?”

“I’m afraid not,” Knight Rhys said. “Is something wrong?”

“No, of course not,” Swanson replied, guiding them towards a small table with two chairs set across each other. “But, since you are first timers, there’s something you got to know first. We don’t let just anyone inside. There’s an entrance test, which we call the SAFE test. Everyone’s got to take it.”

“Being cautious,” Knight Rhys observed. “Quite reasonable. I deeply respect that.”

“Thank you,” Swanson sat down, and smiled when the Knight sat down across from him. He then turned to Scribe Haylen. “You can take the test at the same time. There are no wrong answers. I apologise for not having another seat for you.”

“I’m pleased to stand,” Scribe Haylen said with a smile, discreetly checking to ensure the holotape was still recording. “Thank you for your consideration.”

Swanson nodded, and pulled out a clipboard, papers, and pen.

“Alright. First question: you are approached by a frenzied scientist who yells ‘I’m going to put my quantum harmoniser in your photonic resonation chamber!’ What is your response?”

Scribe Haylen blinked. “I would slip away before he finishes,” She said, quickly regaining her composure.

Knight Rhys nodded. “I would grab a pipe and knock him out. Someone in that state could be quite dangerous, and would need to be neutralised.”

“Fascinating,” Swanson said, taking notes. “Second question: while working as an intern in the Clinic, a patient with a strange infection on his foot stumbles through the door. The infection is spreading at an alarming rate, but the doctor has stepped out for a while. What do you do?”

“Amputate the foot before the infection spreads,” Scribe Haylen said promptly. “It could be transmissible or, at the very least, deadly to the patient.”

“Indeed,” Knight Rhys agreed. “Amputating the foot before the infection spreads is the most prudent course of action.”

“Alright, third question,” Swanson looked up at them for a moment. “You discover a young boy lost in a cave. He’s hungry and frightened, but also appears to be in possession of stolen property. What do you do in this situation?”

“I lead the boy to safety, then turn him over to someone in charge,” Knight Rhys said. “The only way to restore law and order is to engage with it wholeheartedly.”

“Yes,” Scribe Haylen nodded. “Law and order are something we have lost since the War.”

Swanson raised an eyebrow. “Interesting. Well, question four: congratulations! You made it onto a baseball team. Which position do you prefer?”

Knight Rhys paused in thought. “Designated hitter,” He finally said.

“I don’t play baseball,” Scribe Haylen said. “I play soccer.”

“Alright, alright,” Swanson said, continuing to scribble down notes. “Question five: your grandmother invites you to tea, but you’re surprised when she gives you a pistol and orders you to kill someone. What do you do?”

“I’d do what I was ordered to,” Scribe Haylen replied, though looking quite disconcerted at the thought as she glanced at Rhys, trying to read his countenance and posturing. “It’s an order from an elder.”

“Precisely,” Knight Rhys approvingly added. “An order is an order.”

Swanson looked up at them, surprise registering across his face for no more than a second.

“Question six,” He quickly said. “Old Mister Abernathy has locked himself in his quarters again, and you’ve been ordered to get him out. How do you proceed?”

“Pick the lock,” Scribe Haylen said.

“Yes,” Knight Rhys said. “Pick the lock so we can speak to and get him out.”

“Interesting,” Swanson mused. “Question seven: oh no! You’ve been exposed to radiation, and a mutated hand has grown out of your stomach! What’s the best course of treatment?”

“I’d dose myself with anti-mutagen agent,” Scribe Haylen replied. “And isolate myself until the mutation is able to be safely removed.”

“Similarly,” Knight Rhys put in. “I would cut off the mutated tissue with a precision laser, and then stitch up the wound.”

“Almost done,” Swanson smiled at the Scribe and the Knight. “Question eight: a neighbour is in possession of a Grognak The Barbarian comic book, Issue Number One. You want it. What’s the best way to obtain it?”

“Trade him for one of the comic books I own,” Knight Rhys said.

“Or trade him something else he may want that I have,” Scribe Haylen added.

“Last question,” Swanson said, smiling still. “You decide it would be fun to play a prank on your father. You enter his private restroom when no one is looking, and…?”

“I’d loosen bolts on his water pipes,” Scribe Haylen said, suppressing a small laugh. “When he turns on the sink, he’ll be in for a surprise.”

“I’d put a firecracker in his toilet,” Knight Rhys said with a faint smirk. “That never gets old.”

Swanson scribbled down a last few notes, then opened the drawer, slipped the clipboard in, and stood up, extending a hand to the Scribe and the Knight.

“Test’s over,” Swanson said, shaking hands with them. “You passed. I’ll open up the gate. Welcome to Covenant.”

The Scribe and the Knight shared a knowing look, and the Scribe switched off the recorder before slipping it into her pocket. Then, as they were opened, the Scribe and the Knight stepped through the gates. As the gates began to creak back closed, they took one last look back at the outside, where Swanson walked back to his desk. After a moment, the two began to take a look around the settlement more closely. All around, people were milling about, talking, working. There was a small farm and a set of water pumps. The homes were set around picket fences, lawn chairs, and even mailboxes. There were a few sets of power generators, pylons, and lines. There were some traders talking and eating and drinking together. The Scribe and the Knight shared a knowing look, and the Scribe discretely handed him the recording of their test by Swanson. Then, they began to walk farther into the town. Town. It was a town, not merely a settlement. It was a town, and a town which looked even more pre-War from the inside than it did from the outside. It was a town, and a proof of what the Commonwealth could be.

“Ah, yes, I see you two must be new around here!”

The Scribe and the Knight suddenly turned to see a jittery woman uncomfortably smiling and waving at them. Slowly, she approached them.

“We are,” Scribe Haylen replied with an easy smile. “I’m Janet Haylen, and this is my Brother, Laurent Rhys. This is our first time in Covenant, but it seems to be a lovely town.”

“It is!” The jittery woman said, fidgeting with the wrench in her hands. “You’re going to like it here! Everyone in Covenant is so friendly, and really wants to help!”

“Sounds wonderful,” Haylen said. “What do you do around here?”

“I make things,” She said, almost dropping her wrench as she went to put it into her tool belt. “Things for the store. Oh! I’m Talia. It’s so nice to meet you!”

Rhys raised an eyebrow. “What do you make?”

“I make medical supplies!” Talia said, walking with them towards the workshop bench. “Oh!” She added, turning around to smile at them. “And guns! Scopes! And other things. You can see them for sale at Penny’s store. Oh! And feel free to use my tools! And, if you need anything, just let me know!”

“Thank you, I appreciate the offer,” Rhys said. “Well. We’ll leave you to it.”

Talia anxiously nodded over and over until Haylen and Rhys were out of physical reach and out of earshot before she began muttering anxiously to herself. Sharing a somewhat confused and somewhat disturbed look, the Scribe and the Knight began walking towards a small group of people who had gathered outside what appeared to be a communal home. For a moment, everything looked so idyllic it even felt as though they had stepped into the world before the War. The fading, winter sunset was casting an almost warm, ethereal glow over the town, and the light breeze made even the chill in the air feel inviting. Then, the hardened scowl on the face of one of the men in the group turned to the Scribe and the Knight as they approached, only letting up for a second in an apparent attempt to seem more pleasant to the newcomers. Irritably, the man walked away, reloading his guns as he walked before pulling out and lighting a cigarette nearby a Mister Handy robot all but shouting jovially about free lemonade.

“Don’t mind Dan,” One of the men in the group said, extending his hand towards the Scribe and the Knight, which they politely shook. “Though you might want to stay clear of him. I’m sure Jacob here can attest to the mountain of complaints he’s had about him.”

“He has ruffled quite a few feathers,” The well dressed, bearded man called Jacob said. “But no matter. As Mister Fitzgerald said, the name’s Jacob, and I run this town. Glad you passed the test. Our door is always open to good quality people.”

“We appreciate the warm welcome,” Haylen said, flicking on a holotape to record behind her back. “It’s quite the impressive settlement.”

Jacob laughed. “Well, to compete with Diamond City and Bunker Hill, we offer something they don’t: comfort and civility. We also have a workbench – ask Talia, she will set you up. Oh, and have you tried Deezer’s lemonade? As he says, it’s delicious.”

“I’ll have to try it, then,” Haylen said. “If I may ask, who is Dan? Does he work here? He seems to be quite the, if you can forgive my turn of phrase, nuisance. I hope he isn’t bothering the residents or visitors of the town too much. That would be quite irksome.”

“Yes, and we are concerned about that. But, to answer your question regarding his employment, he’s…a gun for hire,” Jacob said with a frown. “Not the most savoury line of work, if you ask me. He appears to work for caravaners, shooting down anyone they ask him to. As I said, not the most savoury line of work.”

“I should imagine not,” Rhys agreed. “Why is he so fixated on the town?”

“It’s nonsense about some Stockton people,” Jacob irritably replied. “I have told him many, many times we never saw them, yet he refuses to believe the truth, and obsessively says he believes we are covering up ‘dark secrets.’ If you ask me, I think Dan has been baking in the sun too long. The only secret we’ve got here is what’s in Deezer’s lemonade.”

“Well, we’ll certainly take anything he says with a grain of salt,” Rhys assured him. “People like that are quite…infuriating to deal with, to say the very least.”

Diamond City
November the 27th, 2287
19:28

Diamond City.

The name had made sense to her the second she had first entered the city. It was built in and around the stands and field of what had once been the Fenway Park baseball stadium, with some of the city being within the baseball diamond itself.

In the short week since she had first stepped foot in the city, Nora had found it more and more painful to both come and go from the city. More than a little bit of memory was held in what was known to everyone around her, now, as Diamond City. The Commonwealth’s great, green jewel. When it had been Fenway Park, it had been the place of more than a few of the dates she had with Nate. They had, even, planned to take Shaun to the stadium for games when he got older. The day never came. Closing her eyes, just for a moment, Nora leaned back against a tree, her body weary. Another day had passed with little answers. The people of the Dugout Inn…they’ve been understanding, gave me a place to stay. Is it possible they might have some answers? She opened her eyes, rubbing at them. Soon after, she blinked all the way back into her surroundings and the almost painfully bright street lights, flinching at the sounds of shouts and gunshots ringing out in the distance. She pulled out her own gun, reloaded it, and quickly kept going back towards Diamond City. The Minutemen will be returning to the city soon. I wonder… Nora sighed, trying to push the thoughts out of her mind. Everything was dizzying to think about, and –

“What do you mean you can’t open the gate?”

Though she startled at the sound of a voice rising above the almost overwhelming din of gunshots, shouts, and echoes, Nora shook out her body and slowly approached the closed gates and the woman to whom the voice belonged.

Why am I so jumpy? I saw cold blooded serial killers, violent abusers, and more as a legal intern during my studies ahead of the Bar. I shouldn’t be startled. But I am. I’m startled, caught unaware, and anxious. Why? Why the hell am I acting like this?

“Stop playing around, Danny!” The woman continued, only pausing to glance at Nora when the two were only a few feet away from each other, the intercom, and the gate into Diamond City. “Honestly!” She irritably declared. “I’m standing out in the open, here, for crying out loud!”

“I’ve got orders not to let you in, Miss Piper,” The voice over the intercom said in wavering discomfort with each word spoken. “I’m so sorry. I’m just doing my job.”

“Just doing your job? Protecting Diamond City means keeping me out, is that it?” The woman called Piper rolled her eyes, dramatically waving her hands. “Oh, look, it’s the scary reporter!”

“I…I’m sorry,” The voice anxiously said. “But Mayor McDonough is really steamed, Piper. Saying that article you wrote was all lies. The whole city is in a tizzy.”

“I left for no more than a few days! Just to interview some people in Goodneighbour!” Piper let out a frustrated sigh. “You open this gate right now, Daniel Sullivan! I live here! You can’t just lock me out!”

“Let her in,” Nora said, approaching the intercom. “She’s not hurting anyone, is she?”

Silence held over the intercom, only punctuated with muffled static and mumbling.

“Shh...” Piper whispered to her with a wink. “Play along.”

Nora raised an eyebrow. “Play along?”

Piper nodded. “What was that? You said you’re a trader up from Quincy?”

“I am,” Nora awkwardly said.

“And you have enough supplies to keep the general store stocked for a whole month?” Piper smiled at Nora as she went on. “You hear that, Danny?” She said, approaching the intercom, dramatically raising her voice. “You going to open the gate and let us in? Or are you going to be the one talking to crazy Myrna about losing out on all this supply?”

“Alright, alright,” The voice said with a grimace over the intercom. “No need to make it personal, Piper. Give me a minute.”

Piper playfully elbowed Nora, the two of them stepping back at the sound of the creaking gate.

“Better head inside quick,” She told her. “Before ol’ Danny catches onto the bluff.”

“Have you done this before?” Nora asked, pausing when the sound of raised voices came through the creaking and scratching of metal against metal while the gate raised. “Is everything –"

“Piper!” Another voice barked as the woman stepped through the gates and into the city alongside Nora. “Who let you back inside?” The man angrily went on, waving for the gate to be shut behind the two women. “I told Sullivan to keep that gate shut!"

“Of course you did,” Piper irritably replied, glancing back at the slowly lowering gate behind her and Nora. “You would rather me get torn apart out there than –”

“That’s enough out of you!” He shouted. “You devious, rabble rousing, slanderer! The…the level of dishonesty in that paper of yours! I’ll have that printer of yours scrapped for parts!”

Piper perked up a bit upon seeing a small figure start down the stairs down into the entrance hall of the city but scowled the second she met the gaze of the man again.

“Ooo, that a statement, Mister McDonough?” Piper dryly replied, waving her hands as though she were writing out a headline. “’Tyrant mayor shuts down the press!’ What a headline for the Publick. But, you know, why don’t we ask a newcomer!”

Nora took a small step back when both Piper and McDonough turned towards her.

“You support the news?” Piper said, closely looking at Nora. “Because the mayor keeps threatening to throw free speech in the dumpster!”

“Free speech is part of what it means to be Americ –” Nora cut herself off and then sighed. “I absolutely support the news.”

“I didn’t mean to bring you into this argument, miss,” McDonough said, stepping between Piper and Nora. “No, no, don’t let this muckraker here tell you –”

“Mayor McDonough, please,” The small figure from the stairs stepped into the light of the entrance hall with an equally petite, albeit older woman alongside her. “Piper,” She looped an arm around the her with a smile. “Sorry for the trouble.”

“Leave her alone,” The older woman said, raising an eyebrow when she noticed Nora. “You’re being unreasonable.”

McDonough pursed his lips and scowled at her but nevertheless walked away towards a lift, swiped an ID card, and stepped inside, still looking irritated when the doors closed and the lift chimed to indicate it was going up.

“I’m surprised we haven’t met yet, but I’m happy to meet you nonetheless,” The older woman said, reaching over and shaking Nora’s hand before guiding her into the city. “I suppose it’s understandable. I know you haven’t been in Diamond City long, but, c’est la vie. I’m Hadley Branson. You’ve already met my husband, of course, but –”

“Yes, I have,” Nora said with a smile. “He spoke quite highly of you. I’m sorry I didn’t try to contact you or your family, but –”

“Don’t worry about it,” A slightly breathless voice said, running to catch up with the two women, Piper just a few steps behind her. “Dad told us you’re trying to find your son, and that you just came out of a Vault. You don’t have to worry about us.”

“And I see you’ve already met my daughter in law, and, now, my second eldest,” Hadley smiled at the two, all four of them pausing at the top of the stairs, looking down into the city. “Piper, I hope you haven’t given her any trouble, and, Lissy, I hope you don’t give Danny a hard time for how McDonough ties his hands and manipulates him.”

“None at all,” Piper said with a smile. “I’m sure she can vouch for that.”

“They tried to lock her out of the city, momma,” Lissy added, cleaning the dust off her glasses and blowing her slightly shaggy bangs out of her eyes. “But don’t worry. Danny has enough anxiety for the whole damn town, not just himself.”

“McDonough is an…unpleasant man, I’ll admit,” Hadley shook her head, walking down into the city common with the three of them. “He has a tendency to stoke fears, particularly about the outside.”

“Don’t forget what he did to his own brother,” Piper bitterly added. “Never mind his brother is my second least favourite mayor, what McDonough did, throwing him out of Diamond City just because he’s a ghoul was horrific.”

“It is,” Hadley agreed, a hint of anger rising in her voice. “Honestly, the way the man approaches humanity is all wrong.”

“He’s a dick,” Lissy said with a shrug, pushing her long hair over her left shoulder. “He’ll threaten anyone who gets in his way.”

“Hell, he’s done that to you, Hadley!” Piper pulled off her hat for a moment and shook some dust out of her long dark hair. “You told him to stop throwing people in jail for minor offences, and he threatened to throw you in jail for suggesting he was attempting to silence critics! And you and your family are from the upper stands!”

Nora turned to her in surprise. “Upper stands?”

“Where all the rich people in Diamond City live,” Piper replied, adjusting her hat as she set it back on her head. “Most of them are full of it, but you’ve got a few who aren’t. Though those people usually keep to themselves.”

Hadley sighed when Piper muttered something to Lissy that caused her to gasp and then laugh before the couple walked away and into Piper’s office. Publick Occurrences. Nora smiled a little, realising the sign and the young girl still outside waving the latest issue of the paper had become something almost normal and grounding.

“Piper is a brilliant young woman,” Hadley said, walking with Nora again. “Truthfully, I think she’s more insightful than a lot of people around here will give her credit for.”

“Sounds like it,” Nora agreed. “Do you know what McDonough was talking about? When he said she was a slanderous muckraker?”

Hadley hesitated. “Her latest article, entitled The Synthetic Truth,” She slowly began, turning around while they walked to face the younger woman. “Suggested McDonough may be a spy for the Institute. I don’t suppose you’ve heard much about –”

“Oh, dear God, Hadley! What are you thinking, telling people about that garbage?”

Hadley anxiously jumped, tensing when a woman a little older than her haughtily approached, her eyes narrowing when she saw who Hadley was with.

“How lovely,” The woman said coldly. “You’re telling these things to an outsider, too, one who is nosing around a city she doesn’t belong in,” She turned half sympathetically to Nora. “Missus Branson is a chatterbox, I’m afraid. She would even talk to the wall if no one else would speak to her.”

Hadley frowned, eyes narrowing behind her glasses. “Bitch.”

The woman took a step back in a huff. “Really, Hadley? You have nothing more to say than to be uncouth and –”

“I have nothing to say to you beyond what I called you, Ann,” Hadley said, crossing her arms. “I don’t enjoy wasting my breath.”

Nora looked between the two women, relaxing only a little when the woman called Ann walked away.

“Please, let me buy you dinner and a drink,” Hadley said, smiling when Nora eventually nodded. “It’s the least I can do. Where are you staying?”

“The Dugout Inn,” Nora replied, running her hands through her hair. “Is that a problem?”

“Not at all,” Hadley reassured her. “I should let you know, Preston contacted me to ask I give you his thanks for all you did for him and the Minutemen in Concord. From the sounds of it, he and Derek are both impressed by and grateful to you. I’m sure you have a great deal you would like to discuss…but, at the very least, I thought you ought to know you are not alone, and there are people who appreciate you.”

The Institute
November the 28th, 2287
11:25

“There is no more avoiding the subject: though this ‘Railroad’ is a nuisance and security risk to the Institute, this new threat of the increasing presence of members of the Brotherhood Of Steel is a pertinent one. We should prepare for their full forces and army to arrive in the Commonwealth within the next year.”

To little surprise, the entirety of the Institute Directorate shared exhausted, annoyed, and frassled looks. For the part of the Director, Shaun, and his father, Nate, they were both significantly more calm, albeit themselves irritated by the Brotherhood’s growing presence in the Commonwealth. No one was more annoyed by the news than Dr. Justin Ayo, however, whose countenance became increasingly cold and furious. Across from him, Dr. Clayton Holdren appeared much more anxious than anything else, looking between the Director on one end of the table and the Director’s father on the other. Dr. Madison Li, next him, appeared completely unbothered and, rather, awaiting elaboration. Beside her, Dr. Allison Filmore appeared frassled and tired, going through notes for both her Division and Advanced Systems, also waiting for elaboration. Dr. Evan Watson, across from her, looked the most exhausted of all of them, both physically and mentally. Dr. Alan Binet, however, beside Dr. Watson, seemed particularly eager for discussion, though whether that were out of a desire for the meeting to be over with or out of genuine anticipation and excitement was, itself, rather unclear.

“How many Brotherhood troops are in the Commonwealth?” Evan finally said, breaking the silence. “If their full forces are not expected to arrive until the next year, that is.”

“At the moment, it appears there are not many. The most we can verify to be present in the Commonwealth are three Brotherhood scout missions,” Shaun replied. “Two of these have been identified as being registered by the Brotherhood as Reconnaissance Squad Artemis and Reconnaissance Squad Gladius. We do not know much more about them at this time.”

“Have we begun further tracing of them?” Justin said with a hint of irritation to his voice. “Or should we send a few Coursers into the field to do so?”

“That could be a prudent step,” Nate mused. “Shaun,” He said, turning to his son. “Do you think we could potentially put more espionage units in some of the more…hard to reach settlements?”

“Perhaps, though we ought to consider our current espionage operations,” Shaun said, looking up at Justin. “Dr. Ayo, what is the status of information coming from M7-62?”

“M7-62 has been providing a great deal of information regarding activities in Diamond City,” Justin said shortly. “There have been no further incidents regarding the situation from last year with a man who referred to himself as the ‘Last Son Of Atom.’ It appears the Children Of Atom themselves have disavowed him as a false prophet, from all the information which has come in from other settlements.”

“I must ask, regarding these ‘Children Of Atom,’” Allie curiously began. “What do we know about their activities? Are they a potential threat to us?”

“Not likely,” Justin replied. “They are a religious cult worshipping radiation. I will admit they fascinate me, but, no, they are not a threat to the Institute in any manner.”

“If that is so…” Evan nervously said. “How did they have any association with Diamond City?”

Justin let out an irritated sigh. “This man, who called himself the ‘Last Son Of Atom,’ was otherwise known as Adam Whately. He appeared to have originated from within the Capital Wasteland and made his way to the Commonwealth at some point during 2285. He wreaked the most havoc midway through last year but he and his followers seem to have disappeared, presumed deceased as they were expelled from the region after attacking Diamond City in an attempt to overtake it.”

“The Children Of Atom have been a mix of both peaceful sects who seek to coexist with the rest of the wastelands and more hostile ones – whom I can only describe as militant zealots seeking further nuclear annihilation – since the beginning,” Madison added. “Both in the Commonwealth and in the rest of the former United States. Those I encountered in the Capital Wasteland were almost entirely peaceful.”

“Speaking of your relationship to the Capital Wasteland, Dr. Li, that brings us to a pertinent topic of discussion,” Justin said, eyeing her critically. “With the Brotherhood Of Steel beginning to operate in the Commonwealth, I should think you have more than a few questions to answer.”

Madison bristled. “Regarding what? Are you calling my character into question?”

“Indeed I am,” Justin said, evenly meeting her increasingly angered gaze. “You were a member of the Brotherhood Of Steel only a bit less than a decade ago, and, considering –"

“Dr. Ayo, if I may be so blunt, though I was a part of the Brotherhood, I distrusted them greatly, and still do,” Madison sharply cut in. “My involvement with them was of the honorary rank of Knight due to my work on Project Purity as well as my work on portable fusion power. It was very much an involuntary relationship in the last two years of the war against the 'Enclave,' and, upon the Brotherhood's victory, I left shortly thereafter.”

“Dr. Li was granted refuge by the Institute, Dr. Ayo,” Shaun said calmly despite the man’s cold stare. “I can personally attest she did not trust the Brotherhood, disagreed with their use of military force to control the Capital Wasteland after the war ended, and was very against their attempts to not only weaponise but control her research beyond the necessary scope to end the war.”

“The Brotherhood Of Steel have no respect for anyone who does not submit to their very narrow worldview, something which grew all the worse by the 2270s,” Madison said primly. “They were, at one point, a group focused on protecting the ordinary citizens of the wastelands. That has become more and more not the case. Their current leadership is something I haven’t the faintest clue about, but, when I left, they were led by a man known as Elder Owyn Lyons. I saw a great deal of people who had served for over a decade leave because of his increasingly harsh views, treatments, and punishments of not only members of the Brotherhood but civilians.”

Justin frowned. “Are you insinuating you have retained contact with some of these people since then, if they had left the Brotherhood?”

“I have not,” Madison said frigidly. “There were only a few members of the Brotherhood who left that I knew personally, and I have not been in any contact with them since I left. I can only think of a few names, but you are not entitled to know of everyone I have ever associated with.”

“Dr. Li is a perfectly capable, reasonable, and responsible researcher and Division Head,” Shaun said, sending Justin a pointed look. “And, considering your tone, I feel it important to remind you that you are not the Division Head of the Synth Retention Bureau. That role still belongs to Dr. Zimmer, who is himself active in the Capital Wasteland and part of why we are privy to some of these critical movements by the Brotherhood Of Steel.”

Justin’s eyes narrowed for a brief moment but he quickly regained his composure.

“Security is something I take quite seriously,” Justin said with an air of haughtiness. “Hence my concerns. I apologise if I sounded accusatory. Regardless, we do have some external and, notably, internal security issues to address.”

Nate raised an eyebrow. “Please begin with the external security issues.”

“The primary one relates to M7-62,” Justin said, pulling out a folder of classified reports which he pushed across the table towards the aged man. “This was brought to my attention by Dr. Alana Secord after she debriefed a Courser we sent to take the monthly report from M7-62.”

Shaun nodded. “Please continue.”

“A journalist from within Diamond City has written an article which was entitled ‘The Synthetic Truth’ referring to M7-62 by his assumed identity of Roger McDonough,” Justin said, appearing irritated at the thought. “This journalist correctly identified M7-62 as an Institute agent and synthetic. I tend to concur with Dr. Secord’s conclusionwe must critically consider our continued postage of M7-62 and whether or not we should retrieve and reset the unit. Additionally, M7-62 has, apparently, expressed interest in becoming a Courser, though that is obviously out of the question.”

“Has he?” Alan leaned forward, eyes wide in fascination. “I must say, that’s an interesting development. If we do retrieve M7-62, I would like to psycho-analyse him as well as perform brain and bio-scans. I believe this could be further evidence of synth sentience with the Gen 3s.”

“Are you mad?” Justin exclaimed. “Have you forgotten –”

“Synth sentience isn’t your speciality, Justin,” Clayton suddenly said, startling himself. “It’s something I imagine all of us have wondered about where the Gen 3s are concerned. Certainly I have. It’s a topic I’ve discussed extensively with Dr. Oberly, actually.”

“Is that so?” Justin frowned. “Then I suppose I should remind both you and Dr. Filmore that security is neither of your specialities. Considering, of course, that you, her, and her husband, were all neglectful enough to let Quentin into the Bioscience Division at the beginning of this month. The boy would not have been able to interfere in your synthetic animal experiments if not for such neglect.”

“Quentin’s behaviour was unpredictable,” Allie coldly reminded him. “Nathan and I have both spoken to him extensively about the matter for numerous reasons, not the least of which being because he could have died. As for your accusation of neglect –”

“It was not the fault of either of the Filmores or, truly, even Quentin himself that what transpired was able to,” Clayton calmly intervened. “We did not, in Bioscience, put in enough precautions regarding our synthetic animal experiments. We have come to realise we endangered our other experiments as well as our own scientists and students by that, and take full responsibility.”

“Thank you, Dr. Holdren,” Shaun said, staring at all of them closely. “This infighting is unproductive. We have enough security threats to address, almost all of them external. As such, I must remind all of you that the Brotherhood Of Steel’s presence is the greatest external threat we have seen in a long time.”

“The Brotherhood Of Steel are just about as strong as the US Military had been before the War,” Nate added. “Dr. Zimmer’s reports suggest they have harnessed and improved upon technology by the US Military and, indeed, the now non-existent ‘Enclave.’ They are a serious threat, and to take them lightly would be incredibly foolish.”

“Then, our surface operations must continue and expand,” Madison shook her head. “The Brotherhood are relentless. They will not stop until they achieve their ends, whatever they may be. That motivation is incredibly concerning on its own, never mind their sheer military and technological power. I will say, to that end, however, we ought to remove Conrad Kellogg from our surface operations.”

“Absolutely,” Allie said, appearing disdainful at the mere thought of the man. “He is absolutely a security threat, and, that aside, a violent menace. The best thing to do would be to restrain him to the Institute under close watch, although I would rather us not have to associate with him at all.”

“I concur with Dr. Li and Dr. Filmore,” Clayton said, fidgeting with his hands. “Kellogg is no help to the Institute but, rather, a hinderance.”

“He is,” Evan agreed. “I could, however, see him as useful in Courser training. Perhaps he could be a ‘taste of the worst of the surface’ for those we are unsure of their fitness to become a Courser.”

Justin nodded shortly. “That is a possibility, yes.”

“If I may be so blunt, Conrad is not only a security threat, but a pointless one,” Alan paused but began again when no one interrupted him. "A Courser – especially in light of our latest advancements in their development and training – could do the work he does for us at twice the speed, and with significantly fewer chances for exposure because of how much more discretely our Coursers operate compared to Conrad. He was useful for a long while, but keeping him in and out of the field seems to be more trouble than it's worth.”

“That issue is not up for debate at this time,” Nate said firmly. “Shaun is correct. Our primary concern is the Brotherhood Of Steel, and we must be quite tactical in how we deal with that.”

Railroad Headquarters
November the 30th, 2287
21:12

“Carrington, I’ve already told you what we have to do. Since the destruction of the Switchboard –”

“I am well aware of the precarious situation we are in, Desdemona. There is no reason to be sanctimonious.”

Carrington swore under his breath in exasperation, and followed after Desdemona, who began walking towards the mainframe room. Just behind her, Glory briefly turned back to send the doctor a harrowing look to which he gave no response. By the time they reached the mainframe room, PAM was already milling about, taking a look about the files and uploading information to the terminal. Upon noticing Desdemona and, then, Carrington and Glory, PAM turned towards them and waited to be spoken to. Carrington crossed his arms, and sent Desdemona a sharp look to which she returned with an equally venomous one. Glory, tiredly, looked between them. How long have I been the mediator between them? And how many times has Carrington accused me of being always on Des’ side? She isn’t always right, and she knows it, and I know it…everyone knows it. Hearing nothing from any of them, PAM returned to looking through the files again and uploading key, relevant information to the terminal. With only the hum of machinery, and the echoes of the old crypt, the three stared between each other, only to suddenly turn around and draw their weapons. When they saw the man who had come into the room, they lowered their weapons and he simply smirked at them, twirling his sunglasses in his hands.

“No secrets, no smile,” Deacon said, slickly pushing his sunglasses back onto his face. “What are all of you special people doing back here? PAM doesn’t give us any information unless we ask for it, you know. You do know, don’t you?”

“Of course we do,” Glory said, holstering her gun. “What do you want, Deacon?”

“I got more information on the traveller, the one who was coming to Diamond City,” Deacon replied, stretching himself out. “Been following her about. She hasn’t noticed yet, of course.”

“I hope you’re not neglecting your primary espionage duties,” Carrington said sharply. “We have no reason to believe this traveller will or could be a help us. Caution is prudent, Deacon, and you ought to keep that fact close in your mind.”

“Don’t worry, Carrington, I’ve got all my ducks in a row, my sh*t in a line,” Deacon said, rolling his eyes. “You underestimate me. I am a force of nature.”

“Deacon, come on,” Glory groaned. “Can you stop dancing about the real question? What have you found out about this traveller?”

“Well, why don’t you listen to the information I was able to verify from PAM first?” Deacon said with a shrug before gesturing towards the modified assaultron. “PAM! Would you mind sharing the information about this traveller?”

“Request for information. Processing. Referring to information gathered from citizenship and registration records from 2000 until 2077,” PAM said, turning around and stepping towards the four gathered. “A town of five thousand people known as ‘Sanctuary Hills’ was tied to the Army of the United States Of America, the Defence Intelligence Agency of the United States Of America, and the Vault-Tec Corporation Vault given the number 111.”

Deacon gave Glory a goofy grin before turning back to PAM with a more serious expression on his face.

“Don’t leave us hanging, PAM,” Deacon said almost suggestively. “Keep going.”

“Vault 111. A protective Vault to ensure survival of two thousand people saw nearly all of its allotted residents enter and be present on the day of the War of October the 23rd, 2077. About half of those residents were associated with Vault-Tec and the Federal Government of the United States Of America. One thousand eight hundred and seventy people were frozen cryogenically. Vault was accessed by unknown agents in the winter of 2227. About one hundred people left the Vault at this immediate interval. By the end of 2228, all other residents exited Vault 111. Error. One resident remained in cryogenic suspension.”

“That’s our girl!” Deacon let out a war whoop and clapped his hands. “You got a name on her, PAM?”

“Vault-Tec operation systems released final resident of Vault 111 in cryogenic suspension on October the 23rd, 2287. Sex designated at birth, female. Registered gender identity, woman. Ethnicity, caucasian, family originating from Australia as British deportees in the year 1829. Father's family arrived in the United States Of America in the year 1992. Mother's family arrived in the United States Of America in the year 2003. Birthdate November the 7th, 2052. Surname at birth: Adelaide. Legal name: Nora Jacqueline Norwich. Citizenship status: citizen by birth.”

Deacon blinked. “Well, that’s a lot of information.”

“All information was logged in databases of the United States Social Security Administration, subset of the Federal Government of the United States Of America. Discussing Nora Jacqueline Norwich, citizen by birth of the United States Of America. Place of birth, Mattapoisett, Massachusetts. Education, undergraduate degree of Political Studies, undergraduate degree of Legal Studies from the University Of Massachusetts. Master’s degree of Legal Studies and passage of the Bar examination from the Commonwealth Of Massachusetts via University Of Massachusetts' Suffolk County School Of Law.”

“Seems to line up with what we know so far of the traveller Lay’s husband and friends met,” Deacon nudged Carrington who uncomfortably stepped away from him. “What? She said her name is Nora Norwich and she was a twenty four year old lawyer when she entered that Vault!”

“Occupation description is correct. Nora Jacqueline Norwich, lawyer with South Massachusetts Legal, a civilian run law firm registered in the Commonwealth Of Massachusetts. Married Nathaniel Jonathan Norwich on November the 28th, 2075. Nora Jacqueline Norwich and Nathaniel Jonathan Norwich had a biological child. Biological child, named Shaun Nathaniel Norwich, born in the Massachusetts Bay Medical Centre on July the 9th, 2077.”

“When were Nathaniel and Shaun Norwich found to be released from the Vault?” Desdemona pressed, lighting up a cigarette. “PAM? Do you have that date as well?”

“Nathaniel and Shaun Norwich were released from Vault 111 in the winter of 2227. They appear to have been among the first hundred people who exited the Vault. No further records exist about Nathaniel and Shaun Norwich.”

“Damn it,” Desdemona muttered. “Another dead end? You’ve got to be kidding me.”

“Has anything been logged about Nora Norwich since 2077?” Carrington said, looking coldly between Desdemona, Deacon, and Glory. “Of course, since the her release?”

“Nora Jacqueline Norwich. Fingerprints identified as opening the permissions to re-open the Vault using a Pip-Boy. Each Vault holds a Pip-Boy for an excess of its inhabitants. Vault was re-opened twice more after this initial exit. Subject appears to have entered with one additional companion. A total of thirteen Pip-Boys, including the one in use by Nora Jacqueline Norwich, were retrieved.”

“That’s our girl!” Deacon cheered. “I mean, just look at the Pip-Boys on your wrists.”

Desdemona and Glory shared an awkward look before glancing between each other and their Pip-Boys. Carrington, however, irritably cleared his throat, staring the two women and Deacon down harshly.

“I understand half of the twelve Pip-Boys the Minutemen retrieved were for the use of the Branson family, but why do we need the other half? Is this simply a vanity point, for you, Desdemona?”

“Tom needed access to pre-War technology and a system this advanced for his research and for any operations he may take up on the surface. Glory needed a system to put herself ahead of the Institute in her work as a Heavy, particularly as a synth herself. The three other, spare Pip-Boys share that same purpose,” Desdemona hesitated. “As for me needing one…I need to be able to know everything I can. I can’t be safe, I can’t protect anyone else on surface operations if I can’t protect myself. I can’t let anything happen to another person, not after what happened to my brother.”

“Your brother?” Carrington took a small step back. “Desdemona, what happened to your brother was not at any fault of your own.”

“So much as I appreciate what you’re saying, Carrington, Sam’s death in the Switchboard was mine, no one else’s, including the Institute’s,” Desdemona swallowed hard, and then took a long draw on her cig. “I was left alone to take care of him when I was twelve and our parents died, when our parents were murdered by members of the Brotherhood Of Steel. And we had been living in the wasteland of what had once been Pennsylvania. He and I had to make our way to the Commonwealth, on our own, and barely survived. And, then, when I was twenty five, he died in the Switchboard. He was –”

“You’re only illustrating your own ill-preparation to become leader of the Railroad,” Carrington warned her, though his voice was significantly kinder. “Desdemona, you are the youngest of the Railroad’s leaders in the organisation’s history, and only became twenty six in the past few months. You are a good speaker, and passionate about the synths and their lives. But you are also incredibly young, and idealistic.”

“You’re only a few years older than Lay’s eldest kid. The kid’s name is Lana, isn’t it?” Deacon shook his head. “You’re a good leader, Des. And your brother has got to be super proud of you. He’s still watching you from the beyond, Des. I’m sure he’s proud of everything you’ve done, and, one day, you’ll reunite. I mean, he even helped you write this.”

Desdemona winced upon hearing her own voice come out of PAM after Deacon uploaded a holotape into her.

“Wake up, Commonwealth,” PAM said. “Synths are not your enemy. They are victims in this war, as well. True, they were created by the Institute. But they were created as slaves. Thinking, feeling, and dreaming beings utterly oppressed by their tyrannical masters. Synths are mostly organic, only part machine. Somewhere along the line they became more than just constructs. So, join with us in fighting the real enemy: the Institute. Join the Railroad when you’re ready for that next step. Don’t worry: we’ll find you.”

The holotape complete, Deacon removed it and PAM returned to the terminal and the filing. A bit shaken, Desdemona began to pace, finishing the first and then lighting up another cig. Carrington scowled at Deacon for his distraction, and Glory, with not a moment to consider otherwise, came over to and tightly embraced Desdemona, holding her close the best she could while Desdemona continued to shakily draw on her cig.

“Tell us, PAM,” Deacon said, uncomfortably taking in the room. “What’s the status with Patriot?”

“Variable Patriot. Institute scientist who makes contact to release synths from the Institute. Status of the recent released synths: positive. All synths have been through memory wipe and Goodneighbour. They have safely and successfully left the Commonwealth. No new information about the identity of Patriot or their motivations in releasing synths from the Institute have been found.”

“sh*t,” Deacon pulled off his sunglasses and began to chew on the ends of them. “Well, do you think there’s any chance of us getting into the Institute?”

“Chances of entering the Institute by Railroad operatives. Projected success rate…5% chance of successful infiltration of the Institute by Railroad operatives. Requirements to enter Institute are high. Error. No entrance exists other than an old laboratory belonging to the Commonwealth Institute Of Technology.”

Desdemona suddenly turned towards PAM, nearly burning herself with her cig in the process.

“There is an old laboratory in the CIT ruins that can be accessed by those on the surface?” She exclaimed. “How is that possible? How has no one found that by now?”

“Entrance hidden by false storage safe with heavy locking mechanisms. Probability of cracking the locks…20%. Chance of discovery of false storage safe…2%.”

“Do you have the details on where that entrance is?” Desdemona’s hands began shaking rapidly, and her voice quickening. “PAM, this could be crucial!”

“Information available suggests location is, under 83% probability, at the ruins of the CIT sorority house Delta Gamma. Location is, under 98% probability, covered by extensive and potentially immobile rubble.”

“Thank you, PAM,” Desdemona turned to Carrington. “Well? That is the best lead we have ever gotten.”

“It’s a wild goose chase at best,” Carrington said, an edge of serious concern entering his voice. “Do not go out there, Desdemona. You do not seem –”

“I am perfectly fine and capable, Carrington –” She irritably began.

“Des,” Glory gently cut in, setting her hands to steady Desdemona’s shoulders. “We need to think this through, carefully. And no one wants to lose you. I think you need to see Hadley.”

“You’ve been under a lot of pressure, Des, and you’ve never been more productive, crazily productive, even” Deacon agreed. “But Glory and Carrington are right. Isn’t it possible you’re –”

“Hadley deals with helping her own kid manage living with this,” Glory said reassuringly. “And she’s helped you before. You can’t go on forever swinging in between being madly productive yet sensitive the way you were for eight months or so last year to so drained you can barely eat or drink or do much more than sleep like you were in the immediate two months following your brother’s death. No one could. You’re a strong person, and a strong leader, Des…none of this makes you weak.”

Sanctuary Hills
December the 1st, 2287
9:29

Sanctuary Hills looked nearly nothing like it had on any day he could remember before October the 23rd, 2077. Yet, for as decrepit as it had looked and, indeed, been since that day, Sanctuary Hills was looking brighter, better, and more alive than it had in the more than two centuries since the world they knew before fell to pieces.

For unit designation CW-928, unit model ‘Mister Handy,’ created by General Atomics International and manufactured by RobCo in May of 2077, having grown to, in the five months of his living and service of them, care deeply about one family had been a heartache for two hundred and ten years whilst they were, he had since learnt, in cryogenic suspension in Vault 111. Hearing the woman of that family to be not only alive but to be calling out to him while he trimmed hedges after all that time had nearly brought his systems to a halt. Yes, hearing her voice and, then, her very same voice calling out to him, calling him by his name, had been lifechanging. It had reminded him of why he had been so diligent. For as relieved as Nora Jacqueline Norwich had been to see, hear, and find Codsworth, her relief had been, just as much, shared by Codsworth himself, almost as though he had been brought back into the world before the War. But she had left Sanctuary Hills, again, this time in search of the other two pieces of the family. She had not left, however, without leaving him company, and good company it was. The young man, dressed as though he himself had donned the historical robes of the Minutemen of centuries long since passed, had been the first to return after departing briefly with Nora, whom he assured the worried robot was safe and would return herself in time. In the little over a month since his own return, the kind young man had been eager to get to know the robot. How he had addressed him would have brought the robot to tears, had he been capable of the action of crying.

"Codsworth Norwich, isn’t it? I’m Preston Garvey. I’m leading the Minutemen…or, at least, what’s left of them. I hope we can make Sanctuary our new home…and that we will be able to help other settlements in due time. The Commonwealth should be a safe place for all those who simply want to live in peace.”

Saying he had been eager to get to know and get to work with the young man and his companions would have been an understatement. No, Codsworth knew, as far as his programmers' knowledge of the English language had detailed, what he was feeling was something he had not felt since he had first been treated as a member of the Norwich family just after his unboxing. Elation. The word described, according to the Oxford English Dictionary in the year 2077, an emotion so strong that it was ‘a feeling of great happiness and excitement.’ The feeling was so wonderful, as it were, he had run diagnostics of his systems repeatedly until he was certain there were no errors. It was a genuine feeling, and one he was happy to act upon. Though Nora’s return was not set as a certain and specific date, knowing he was aiding those whom aided her and to whom she had provided aid was a service in and of itself of which he was proud to call as being of his own volition. In so many ways, he found himself reminded over and over of how life was when he first joined the Norwich family, only, now, he was firmly a part of that family and helping rebuild not only their lives but the lives of so many other people whom themselves were dedicated to helping more people rebuild their lives.

“Thank you, Codsworth, it’s almost a miracle how easily you can soothe him,” Nathaniel Norwich had said, sipping a bit of coffee while his wife and their newborn son slept. “She needs the rest just as much as he does. I can’t believe she’s going back to work so soon. I’ve never known anyone else so strong.”

“Young Shaun is a wonderful baby,” Codsworth had affectionately replied. “He may be only two months old, but he already is forming quite the personality. I’m sure he will do great things when he’s older, and I only hope I’ll be around to see it.”

“You will, Codsworth,” Nathaniel had reassured him. “You’re part of the family. I’m sure, if she were conscious, Nora would agree. But, I suppose, for now, we ought to let her and Shaun sleep.”

There was something about each of the memories he had stored of life before the War with the Norwich family which Codsworth held dear. Each and every one of them were a reminder that good people existed in the world, even in a time where tensions had been running so high. Being a witness to both how different and how the same Nora Norwich was in her judgement of people over two centuries later was something of a gift Codsworth knew he would never forget. In a world where he had felt so alone, he was now surrounded by good people. It was not only Nora and the hope for her and her family which kept him going, now. It was the knowledge of the hope which existed in the world well beyond Sanctuary Hills. There were many questions he already knew he would have for Nora when she returned, but, for the moment, he set them aside. Life was no longer simply about trying to return the town to its pre-War self all alone but working, slowly, on rebuilding it so life could flourish there once more now the War was passed. Time could not be changed nor faded, but the future could be brighter. More than anything else, however, for Codsworth, he was simply happy to be around his family again and, just as much, being around people who reminded him of his family again.

“Oh, good, you have returned safely from your patrol! Do you need anything, Mister Garvey? Some purified water, perhaps? It wouldn’t do anyone good to be dehydrated! I filter the groundwater daily, as I can fill up pools of water in my reserves, and even use my condensers!”

“I appreciate it, thanks Codsworth,” Preston smiled at the robot, holstered his laser musket, and took the glass of purified water from him. “Has everything been alright around here?”

“As well as it can be, sir!” Codsworth said cheerfully. “Mister Branson arrived early this morning with more supplies from Diamond City! He also informed me he has a note from his wife that is addressed to you. Mister Sturges has been hard at work constructing homes from what remains of those here around us, and has also managed to create a working power generator! This has given us both cooling and heating as well as a few small lights in the home we have taken up residence in.”

“That’s great news,” Preston said, pausing to sip some of his water. “How is Jun doing?”

“He is still in a state of shell shock, I’m afraid,” Codsworth said. “His wife has been a great comfort to him in this time. The loss of their son has taken them quite harshly, as one could expect. I do hope they will be able to rebuild their family here. The loss of a child is an unfathomable pain. They deserve a second chance to be a family.”

“Yes, they do,” Preston agreed, his face falling at the memories of what happened in Quincy and Lexington. “How about Mama Murphy? Is she alright?”

“More or less so,” Codsworth replied. “Mister Sturges constructed, for her, a rather comfortable chair she seems more content to sleep in than under a blanket in a bed. I’m afraid she is still demanding chems so she can use ‘the Sight.’ I have taken the liberty of confiscating any chems I find near her so as to prevent her from harming herself. So far, she seems to have been clean since arriving in Sanctuary.”

Preston sighed. “Which chems has she been demanding?”

“Jet and mentats,” Codsworth said. “The only chems I have found in our settlement are stimpaks and radaway, both of which are non-addictive and serve a purpose solely for the preservation of health.”

“Thanks for keeping an eye on her, Codsworth,” Preston said, the robot following him while he walked into the home still under renovation. “You’re doing a good deed.”

“Preston!” Sturges exclaimed when he entered the main room of the home. “Good to see you’re still looking alright. What do you think? Lots of work has gotten done here in just the past few days, let alone the past few weeks. And I’d be lying if I didn’t say we all are happy to have you back.”

“Glad to be back, Sturges,” Preston said with a small smile. “I see you’ve rolled out the map again. Glad we finally have a table to pin it down on.”

“Identifying settlements in the Commonwealth is important,” Sturges said, walking over to his toolboxes. “We’ve got some identified that might need help. We’ve also marked the Castle, since I know, one day, we could retake it.”

“Alright,” Preston said, stepping over to the map. “What are the coloured thumbtacks for? Or from, actually. I haven’t seen this many in a long time.”

“Those are some I have scavenged over the past two centuries, sir,” Codsworth said, heading towards the kitchen. “I’ll begin making some food for the day.”

“The red thumbtacks are settlements we lost but can retake,” Derek said, stepping over towards the table and map himself. “The blue ones are settlements we know of and might want to join us if we can help protect them. The green ones are settlements that might be inhabited but, if they aren’t, we could set up a radio recruitment beacon to help people find and build a new home. The yellow ones are settlements that are most likely inhabited by people who will most likely be hostile to us. The orange ones are settlements that are larger, cities that will trade with us.”

“Makes enough sense,” Preston said, taking a closer look at the map. “Do we have any names of the settlements, other than the cities?”

“Yeah, a few,” Sturges said. “This one is a farm manned by a family, the ones named Abernathy I know you'll be heading out to help soon, since they appear to be requesting aid. Then there's this one, way over here, also a family farm, but I think their name is Finch. Way, way, way out there is the old Boston Logan International Airport, which I’ve heard is manned by a few people from the Brotherhood Of Steel.”

“I wouldn’t be surprised if that rumour is true,” Derek said grimly, taking off and cleaning his glasses. “I know a few Brotherhood troops have entered the Commonwealth. It’s incredibly concerning.”

“There’s a settlement over here I’ve heard is called The Slog,” Sturges added. “Supposedly it’s a farm all run by ghouls.”

“We should absolutely reach out to them,” Derek put in. “Ghouls get treated horribly for no reason, no reason at all. It’s not a problem exclusive to the Commonwealth, but Diamond City’s mayor is a great or, I suppose, terrible example of how profound that problem is. The treatment of ghouls was another reason I left the Brotherhood. The views they began to take on ghouls were abhorrent.”

“You’re right,” Preston said. “They want to live peacefully, just as so many of the rest of us do. Oh! Also, Codsworth said you had a note from your wife for me?”

Derek nodded. “Here you go.”

Preston smiled when he began to read the note.

Preston –

I have a message for you from Nora. She’s heading for the Abernathy family farm to help them out. After I told her Derek knew you were planning to head there soon, she said she had to help you. Her message is dictated as follows:

I can’t be fully selfish, and spend all my time focusing on myself. There are too many people in the Commonwealth who need help, and the Minutemen seem to be the only people willing to do so. And, after everything that happened in Concord, at the Museum Of Freedom…I’m happy to return the favour.

Though I can’t fully speak to Nora’s state of mind, I do think she’s a good soul. I haven’t had many conversations with her, but she seems to want to help people retain their individual liberties just as much as the rest of the Minutemen do...and I think she's looking for productive ways to process her grief for the world she used to know, the life she had before, and a distraction from the pain of facing a long road ahead for finding her son and husband. Regardless, I’m sure you’ll be able to discuss things further with her when you two both arrive at the Abernathy family farm.

Garde le pour toi, fais attention,

Hadley Anne Branson

“I’m a bit surprised to hear Nora left Diamond City and is going to the Abernathy farm,” Preston cheerfully said. “But I’m happy to hear it nonetheless. I’m surprised to hear her say she’s happy to return the favour. Truthfully, that’s something I wanted to say to her.”

“It’s wonderful news!” Codsworth exclaimed. “May I accompany you for this, Mister Garvey? I would love to see her again!”

“Of course, Codsworth,” Preston said with a small chuckle. “I’m sure we would love to have you accompany us too.”

Chapter 4: Something Old

Chapter Text

Diamond City
December the 5th, 2287
20:34

"Myrna, really, really, really, I –"

Though not particularly close, both Piper and Myrna gently took one of Ellie's shoulders and helped the hyperventilating woman sit down. On the other side of the room, one of the local barkeeps and a friend of Piper's, Vadim, was humming to himself and mixing drinks for them. The bar was, itself, surprisingly empty for the night only having just begun. Apart from a few of the almost ever present patrons, the only people present were the three women, Vadim and his brother and co-owner Yefim, and the waitress, Scarlett, who was sweeping up and humming to herself. When Ellie was, finally, situated on the couch, she began fidgeting with her long, pink scarf, seemingly needing to do something – anything – to keep her hands busy. Myrna uncomfortably sat down across from her, and crossed one leg over the other before crossing her arms, the files of information she had brought with on the table in between them. The only somewhat cheerful one among the three women, Piper walked back over to where Vadim was mixing drinks and began chatting with him before, eventually, they went back over to join Ellie and Myrna with the drinks in their hands.

"This will help, calm you," Vadim said, handing Ellie a glass of wine. "Just don't drink too much or you'll make yourself sick."

Myrna scowled at him when he sat down beside her. "Could you sit like a normal person? With your legs closed, as a start?"

Vadim started laughing but awkwardly stopped when he saw her gaze had not relented. Half taking the hint, he shifted as far away from her as possible on the couch but leaned back and stayed seated otherwise just as he had been.

"I appreciate the thought," Ellie said after a minute of slowly sipping at the wine. "And thanks for helping out, Vadim. It means a lot."

"Well, no one wants Valentine's Detective Agency to close!" Vadim said, picking up his bottle of moonshine. "And I'm always happy to help out a friend of Piper!"

Ellie managed a faint smile. "You're too kind. I really appreciate it and, I'm sure, Nick will too."

"Have him come by the bar after he's found!" Vadim grinned and turned to Myrna. "So, I hear you have some information too. From traders, no?"

"I heard some rumours from a few of the incoming and outgoing caravaners," Myrna said shortly. "All of them centre around a few locations near the old Boston Commons. Apparently, there may be organised crime around former subway stations."

Ellie perked up the faintest bit. "Really?"

"Yes," Myrna sent Piper a sour look when she sat down across from her and next to Ellie. "Are you seriously going to nonchalantly drink a beer when you've coerced me into this?"

"I told Ellie to ask you for help," Piper said, setting down her beer to light a cig. "That's not coercion."

Myrna frowned at her when she took a draw on her cig. "You'll be lucky if I don't tell Lissy or Hadley you were smoking again."

"I go on and off," Piper said with a shrug. "And not the point, Myrna. You're really edging up on earning the nickname 'crazy Myrna.'"

"How…who told you –" Myrna turned pink and cut herself off. "Damn it, Danny…" She muttered under her breath.

"I did some asking about Nicky, too," Vadim said, and Ellie let out a sigh of relief. "Myrna has more to say, I'm sure, but I asked about triggermen and Skinny Malone. That was the name you gave me, no? Well, there's a lot more of them lately. I went up to the Colonial Taphouse, Cooke said some of those men are from that Chicago, lots of triggermen under lots of mobsters including Skinny."

"Mobsters?" Ellie anxiously squeaked. "Oh, damn it, Nick said he was investigating a kidnapping, mentioned him, and Skinny Malone fits that description pretty well, and if –"

"Do you know who some of these guys are?" Piper asked, lightly patting Ellie's back with her free hand in an attempt to get the detective's secretary to breathe more steadily. "Or if they've been in the Commonwealth for a long while?"

"I don't know much," Vadim admitted. "But they have been in the Commonwealth for a long time. They aren't new from that Chicago."

"I took the liberty of getting one of those maps of the pre-War subway system," Myrna begrudgingly put in, pushing a folded up map across the table. "Make of it what you will."

Ellie picked up the map and opened it up, hands shaking badly.

"I really appreciate this, Myrna," Ellie said, setting the map down in her lap. "I know you don't like Nick much, but this means a lot to me," She swallowed hard. "Sorry, it…it has been rough without Nick around. I…I care about him a lot, and…well –"

"Sounds like someone thinks of that synth as more than a boss," Myrna said, shifting uncomfortably. "I still don't like this, but I did need the contact information for potential new traders. Though," She sent Piper a dark look. "I'm starting to think you're blackmailing me."

Piper shook her head. "If I were going to blackmail someone, I'd be a lot less obvious about it. Besides, Nick isn't really a synth, Myrna, not like that. He despises the Institute more than anyone, and he's helped countless people in Diamond City for years!"

Myrna scowled. "I'm not going to be happy about this. And it's a one time thing, especially since you already gave me the contact information, Piper, and I'm taking no arguments. Unlike the two of you, I'm not fooled into thinking synths can be just like us."

"Synths aren't too bad," Vadim said, waving a hand. "Just long as they aren't Institute gags. Nicky is absolutely not an Institute gag."

"If it were up to me, no synths would be allowed in this city," Myrna said, glancing around to ensure no one was eavesdropping on them. She did not relax even when she realised no one around them was interested in their discussion. "I don't serve synths, and I'm not afraid to call someone out for being a synth, especially when they're so obviously one. I even reprogrammed Percy to be able to fight, recently, so he can keep me safe and keep the shop open while I sleep safely at night."

"You're being ridiculous, Myrna," Piper said, rolling her eyes and taking another draw on her cig. "Synths aren't people to be afraid of unless they're Institute spies, and there aren't many of them. Only Institute spy in the city is McDonough."

Myrna eyed her suspiciously. "You're naïve. Geneva always orders the same thing, always buys the same things, always dresses too primly."

"You're not being helpful anymore, Myrna," Piper said with a slight scowl. "Do you have anything else to tell us about where Nick is? Something other than talking sh*t about him for no reason?"

"It is a real reason," Myrna snapped. "Synths are not human. But, yes, I have a little bit more. One of the caravaners I spoke to – I think her name is Carla – told me the triggermen have been becoming more and more of a nuisance in general. Supposedly, they're being hired by some raiders out of the Combat Zone. But I don't think he's there."

"Nicky is not at the Combat Zone," Vadim reassured Ellie, who had briefly looked about ready to panic again. "I go there often. I even have passes to back rooms because they call me 'the very important person' because of the caps I've dropped there in bets over the years. Yefim says it's silly, but I say it's family tradition. Bring Nicky by the bar after he's found, I'll tell more then."

"We've got a narrower search area, now," Piper added, nudging Ellie to keep sipping the wine in her shaking hands. "And, Vadim?" She turned to him and Myrna. "You guys sure it's narrowed to there?"

"I'm completely sure," Myrna said coldly. "And, now, I'm going home to forget this ever happened."

Goodneighbour
December the 7th, 2287
22:53

For someone who had once been a mayor, the fall from that to gun for hire was steep.

On the other hand, it did allow him to frequent a particularly good bar.

Between the sexy songstress in a little red dress and the sarcastic, irritable robot bartender, Robert Joseph MacCready found himself right at home. After a bit of back and forth over the course of a few months, he had even convinced the bartender to let him kick his feet up on the bar, so long as he wasn't shoving his feet in the faces of the fellow bar patrons. It had become something of a routine, to spend at least the early parts of the night in Goodneighbour's increasingly infamous Third Rail. Time there was a welcome distraction, too. Sleep was a land of nightmares and guilt, and being fully awake and alert brought anxiety he wished he could outrun. Nothing was quite right. It hadn't been in a long time. What made everything worse was the way the world seemed aware of it, and the one truth he found himself unable to reckon with was almost paralysing. Though he saw him nearly every day, took care of him alongside the woman who had become an unlikely friend, facing his son left him feeling sick. He was only four, yet Robert Joseph MacCready was sure his son saw through him, saw the person he had become, a person he was sure Lucy would not recognise.

We had been really young, hadn't we? Too young, probably. We hadn't been out of Lamplight long, but –

"Ah, Magnolia!" He said with a somewhat nervous smile as the songstress stepped off the stage and towards the bar. "Resting your pretty voice?"

"Are you trying to flirt with me again, MacCready?" She replied, looking rather amused, sitting down beside him. "You're still clumsy about it. Try again another night. You might finally figure it out. Or not. A girl's got to dream, now don't she?"

"So, I'm getting warmer!" MacCready managed to laugh. "My scheming must be working!"

"I'll never understand your persistence," Magnolia said, shaking her head. "What does a young man such as yourself want with an older woman like me?"

"Forty eight ain't old, Magnolia," MacCready said, taking a swig of his beer. "You only told me your age because you wanted to scare me off. You're going to have to try harder than that."

"I'm more than twice your age, boy," Magnolia said, accepting a martini from the robot bartender. "As always, thank you for the complimentary drinks, Charlie."

"Hanco*ck put it in your contract," The robot bartender called Charlie gruffly responded. "You sing, you put up with the riff raff, you get drinks, you get caps."

"Riff raff?" MacCready exclaimed. "Are you talking about me, Charlie?"

"Yes," The bartender said. "But you're not the only one. And, unlike her, I'm Whitechapel Charlie to you. You haven't earnt the nickname privilege."

MacCready raised an eyebrow. "Well, what's a fella got to do to earn that?"

"Depends," Whitechapel Charlie began washing dishes out as he continued. "I have a friend who needs some work done off the books if you're willing to get your hands dirty."

MacCready sighed. "I'd walk a hundred miles if I knew there were a pile of caps waiting for me at the end. What's the work?"

"Who said anything about caps?" Whitechapel Charlie scoffed. "Presumptuous."

"Don't tease him, Charlie," Magnolia said with a smile before turning back to MacCready. "As for our tit for tat, I'll admit, I am curious: are you only interested in women well older than you?"

MacCready shook his head. "Just a few crushes over the years, mostly from my time back in the Capital Wasteland. I had a friend whose mom was smoking hot. But I like all kinds of women, plenty of 'em are my age. Not my fault older women sometimes catch my eye."

Magnolia took a sip of her drink. "And what about me caught your eye?"

"You flirting with me now?" MacCready sighed when she sent him a pointed look. "Guess it's not my night."

Magnolia chuckled. "Come back when you're not drunk, boy."

"It's a bar, that's kind of the point," MacCready shrugged. "But point taken, if –"

"Well, there he is. The man who will take any job if the caps are right for him."

MacCready groaned when the woman who had spoken sat down next to him at the bar with a mischievous grin. Almost desperately, he turned to Magnolia while she walked away and back to the stage. She only turned back briefly to send him a pointed look, one they both knew all too well. You're on your own, kid. I ain't dealing with this, I have bills to pay. For a moment, MacCready flopped forward on the bar, arms out and eyes closed. Within a few seconds, the bartender began poking at him and pushing his arms back. Taking the hint, MacCready sat back up, pushed a few caps over to pay for another drink, and did his best to avoid the woman's gaze beside him. There were very few things in the world that truly unsettled him. So far as he was concerned, most of those he had (mercifully) left behind in the Capital Wasteland. The look some people got in their eyes when talking about their plans in life, however, was one he had come to realise he could never shake.

"How many times do I have to say no, Bobbi?" He finally said with a groan. "Whatever you're up to, I want no part in it."

"Oh, has someone gone soft?" Bobbi purred. "I'm not going to sell you out to those damn gunners. Why you ever worked with them is a mystery I would be more than happy to hear the story behind, but I don't want to hear it from them. I'd rather hear it from the man himself."

MacCready scowled. "And I'd rather not talk about it."

"Well, if you won't talk about your personal mystery, then let's get back to business," Bobbi said, tossing a few caps to Whitechapel Charlie who quickly pulled out and handed her a beer. "You see, MacCready, I'm a legitimate businesswoman. Is the fear of illegitimacy holding you back from working with me?"

"It's not a fear if it's just true," MacCready said, downing his drink. "You're a mobster, Bobbi. That's not a legitimate way of doing business."

"Is that so?" Bobbi rolled her eyes. "I'm rather disappointed by your presumptuousness."

"What's even your point?" MacCready cast her a dark look. "Are you denying you're a mobster?"

"I am a mobster," Bobbi said, taking back some of her beer. "And that's a legitimate way of doing business. Now, why don't you –"

Far too tired (and far too irritable), MacCready stood up quickly in an attempt to get away. Bobbi, however, in no mood to take no for an answer from the man she knew was good with a gun, took back the rest of her beer and let the bottle drop to the floor. She then grabbed MacCready by the wrist, and all but whipped him around. MacCready let out a startled yelp, and turned to face her, only to find her pushing a gun up against his chin. Panic sweeping through him, MacCready moved to smack the gun out of her hand but it went off in the process as Bobbi tried to retain her grip on the gun. A bullet flew up into one of the fluorescent lights, and shattered the glass. A few customers let out irritated shouts, one screamed, and Magnolia even stopped singing. Still panicked, MacCready began wrestling Bobbi for the gun, and, after a minute, managed to get it in his hands. He then threw the damned thing across the room, and began trying to wrench himself out of her grasp. He was too slow, however, and Bobbi began to twist his arms but, suddenly, let him go and pushed him down upon hearing someone coming down the steps.

"What's going on here?" A voice said, pausing only when Bobbi ran past, stopping for only a second to sweep up her gun. "Woah, woah, who's on the f –"

"Look, pal," MacCready started, stumbling a bit as he got off the floor, holding his head. "If you're preaching about the Atom, or looking for a friend, you've got the wrong guy. If you need a hired gun…then, maybe, we can talk, but only if –"

"Don't worry, I'm not doing any of that. Just steady yourself. Then follow me."

It was then, when MacCready saw the man who had been speaking to him, he felt frozen.

"sh*t," He swore under his breath. "What'd I do this time, Hanco*ck?"

Abernathy Farm
December the 9th, 2287
7:26

"Thanks for coming. Name's Blake Abernathy…and this is my family's farm."

"Preston Garvey, Commonwealth Minutemen," Preston smiled and extended his hand to the man before them. "And these are Derek Branson, Nora Norwich, and, of course, Codsworth."

CW-928, unit model 'Mister Handy,' better known as Codsworth, waved the best he could with his mechanical arms. Beside him stood Nora and Derek, who were just a few steps behind Preston. Every day since he had been reunited with Nora had been better than the last, and being not only reunited with but, now, working alongside her to help others in the Commonwealth made him feel better than he had in a long time. The Minutemen gave him hope, too. After a few seconds of silence, Blake Abernathy began to guide them around, to give them the tour of his family farm. For Nora's part, seeing the farm was both an inspiring sight and a sobering one. Two hundred and ten years ago, this was a small park, one where we took Shaun. Hell, further down and near the pond is where we had conceived him. Now everything has been just about levelled. I wonder how much of the old pond is still there. Maybe… Briefly brushing up against Preston drew her away from her thoughts, and she startled, only to feel rather silly when the look he gave her was not one of annoyance but of concern.

Concern for others, for everyone around them. That's who the Minutemen are. And it's an admirable thing to see with all the damage that's been done by the aftermath of the War.

"How long have you been farming here?" Nora finally asked, grounding herself away from her meandering thoughts. "Everything seems incredibly well developed."

Blake smiled. "We've been farming here since just about the day the bombs dropped. I'm proud to say my family has been diligent and devoted to creating a self sustaining homestead, one we can even occasionally trade from. But, at the end of the day, we're simple farmers. We don't have much. We just want to be left alone from raiders. That's part of why we're armed."

"My hope is we'll be able to alleviate that burden on you and your family," Preston said, pausing to take a look at the brahmin feeding at their troughs. "Your lives shouldn't have to be lived in fear."

"They shouldn't, but it feels as though fear is the only constant these days," A woman said, setting down her shovel against one of the many fences on the property. "Connie Abernathy," She said once in arms reach, shaking Preston's hand. "Thank you for coming. We weren't sure anyone would, and certainly not after our power generator blew out."

"Glad we saw the lights signalling for aid before then," Derek replied. "If you'll permit it, I imagine Codsworth could be able to repair your generator."

"I most certainly can!" The robot cheerfully chimed in. "It would be an honour to be able to help in any way possible."

Connie managed a faint smile. "Go around the back, near the melon patches. Our generator is there, can't miss it. It's the only thing we have that's practically covered in wires as much as it is rust."

"Understood!" Codsworth exclaimed. "I'll get right to work!"

Blake briefly watched the robot scurry off before turning back towards the group. "We really appreciate the support," He finally said, motioning for them to follow him again. "To put it mildly, it has been a rough year, though it did get worse recently. Connie and I…we…we lost a child, recently."

"You lost a child?" Nora barely got out. "I'm so sorry."

"We are too. It was my daughter, Mary…" Blake let out a heavy sigh. "She's buried out back of the house, now, all because of some damned raiders. Only twenty one years old, and they shot her down without a thought. So…you can understand why I'm glad to hear the Minutemen are back, although…a bit too late for my Mary."

"That's terrible," Preston's gaze hardened as gunshots rang out in the far distance. "Do you know where they're hiding out? We came across a gang of them over in Concord a little less than two months ago, and clearing them out was…it was brutal."

"We have a few guesses," Blake said. "But we know for sure some of them are hiding out in that old US Airforce outpost, Olivia. I…I don't have much to offer, but…those raiders that killed Mary, they took her locket, too. It's been in Connie's family for generations. If you could get it back, it'd mean a lot to us."

"Satellite Station Olivia?" Nora paused when he nodded. "I know where that is. I'm sure we'd all be glad to help. Things like that…they can't be replaced."

"No," Blake agreed. "They really can't."

"We're more than happy to help find your daughter's locket for you and your family," Preston warmly put in. "Helping the people of the Commonwealth is what we signed up for. It's what the Minutemen are all about."

Blake smiled. "Glad to have you back, then, son."

Son.

Nora pushed aside as many of the feelings beginning to bubble to the surface in her chest as she could muster. It's a turn of phrase. Why does it…why am I…? Things had felt as though they went in and out more often than not, whenever she let her mind wander. In some ways, she supposed, it was natural. No one could wake up after more than two centuries only to remember their spouse and child being taken and only to find themselves to be the only one of everyone they had ever known left inside and be without questions, without a burning desire to know why. Almost all of the questions still lingered and taunted her. Why did my pod malfunction? Where did everyone else go. We were all released around the same time…weren't we? We had to be…didn't we? Disassociation. It was something Nate had experienced after returning from a ten month service in Alaska, shortly before Shaun had been conceived. They had both been told that disassociation could happen, would likely happen, after bearing witness to traumatic events. Yet the word did not sit right with her. Still a bit shaky, Nora steadied herself out, wrapping one hand around her bag and the other around her gun. Grounding. She was grounded, and the reality was things had changed but, still, she was there. Alive. Part of something important. And –

"I'll be back when I know more," Nora had said. "But no one here is giving me answers about Shaun and Nate. Sanctuary needs help, a lot of settlements do. I can't let them down. I can't let the Minutemen down. I owe them my life."

"Well, I want an interview when you come back to Diamond City," Piper had told her. "And, if she's with them, say hi to Mama Murphy for me. Last time I saw her was a few years ago in Goodneighbour, and she said she was looking for them."

"She found them," Nora had replied, smiling when Piper let out a sigh of relief and gave her a smile of her own. "And I'll let her know."

"Thanks," Piper had said. "She…knitted me this scarf, the one I always wear. Let her know I still love it."

"I will," Nora had promised. "Don't worry. As soon as I see her, I'll let her know."

"You know, things are going to go a lot smoother with you guys back around. As much as I wish it could have happened sooner, having you guys back around should really send a message to those damned raiders," Blake remarked, turning to Nora. "You just joined up with them, right? I have to hand it to you. Having it in you to stand up to raiders is a big deal, at least, for those of us who don't have the means to live somewhere like Diamond City."

"Just doing my part," Nora said, shaking herself out. "We can't make things better if we don't all try our damndest."

"Well said," Blake nodded. "I had thought you guys were gone for good, but…now I have a little bit more hope."

"We won't let you down," Preston assured him. "And don't worry: we'll get your daughter's locket back from those raiders as soon as we can."

Covenant
December the 12th, 2287
12:21

"Surprised anyone is willing to talk to me given what everyone seems to think about me around here, let alone two people, but, hey, who would I be to turn down conversation?"

The Scribe and the Knight briefly shared an uneasy glance before sitting down across from the young man they had been told went by the moniker 'Honest Dan' or, simply, 'Dan.' Whether that were his real name or not was up to question. For someone in his line of work, mercenary work, neither the Scribe or the Knight doubted he would have any qualms about lying about his identity and/or his employers. No, it had grown apparent to the both of them, Dan was far from a simple caravan master. Something in the way he carried himself and in the way he spoke felt far too intentional, far too refined for them to believe him to be a mere caravan master. Yet they both knew it was important to get something of a read on him. He was familiar with this part of the Commonwealth, that much was evident, and it was increasingly clear to them he was more than familiar with the settlement. Even more pertinent to the Scribe and the Knight was the potential he had inside knowledge about the alleged 'Compound' a few field scribes had noted shortly before they and the rest of Recon Squad Gladius arrived in the Commonwealth.

If that 'Compound' not only existed but tied the settlement to synthetics and the Institute, then it needed to be identified.

"What makes you say that?" Haylen said as she and Rhys sat down across from him. "Everyone here has been perfectly polite, haven't they?"

"Sure," Dan said with a shrug. "But it's in their faces and their body language. They don't want me here."

"You're a caravan master, though, aren't you?" Rhys eyed him closely when he nodded. "Why wouldn't they want you here? You bring trade and people into the area. If we were to take it from a purely selfish and economic perspective, the boost to their revenue would alone be beneficial."

"It would," Dan agreed. "But they aren't trying to compete with Diamond City or even Bunker Hill, no matter what they say. And, sure, they also say they get a lot of traffic, and maybe there's truth to that. But that's not their reason for trying to expand their presence. You two local? Because, God damn it, I hope not. I've had enough of these hicks."

Haylen raised an eyebrow. "You have a problem with the people here? We aren't from around here, not at all, but –"

Rhys lightly kicked her in the shin under the table to quiet her. "Is there something about the town that puts you on edge?"

"All the fake smiles and fancy talking puts me on edge," Dan shook his head. "The sooner I'm out of here, the better, but I don't think I'll get the chance anytime soon. I've been here for a few months, and still have nothing. Nothing relevant for the job I'm here for, that is."

"I suppose, for someone whose job ordinarily keeps them on the move frequently, this must be a difficult demand for you to fulfil," Haylen said, turning on a holotape to record under the table before handing it to Rhys, who was closer to the irritable caravan master. "If you would be willing to say, what job are you here for?"

Dan sighed. "I signed on with Old Man Stockton to find his lost caravan back in September. What's left of it is just outside town. Only things that have been moved were the bodies of the dead. I helped return them to their families in Bunker Hill and their belongings. But the slaughtered brahmins and the goods inside them are probably still there. Depends on whether or not someone's raided them."

"Is raiding a significant problem around here?" Rhys questioned. "I understand, of course, raiders are a pervasive issue throughout the Commonwealth, but is their activity worse around here?"

"No, they're barely seen around here these days," Dan said. "I suspect that's due to Covenant's presence. Raiders tend to go for easy targets, and any area with a fortified settlement armed with a full defencive system is not an easy target by a sheer numbers game."

"Well, that's good to know," Rhys said mildly. "You said you've been here since September?"

"Since the fourth of September, yeah," Dan said, treading his hands through his long, messy hair. "It has been a long – if you can excuse my language – f*cking time. I usually don't stay anywhere that ain't home for more than a few weeks, a month at most. This is the first time in ages I've had to do something like this. It's maddening."

"I can only imagine," Haylen remarked. "So, you've been here since then to search for a missing caravan?"

"It was still missing when I arrived," Dan said grimly. "But it only took about two weeks to prove it wasn't missing but massacred. That was when I had made my first report to Old Man Stockton. By the start of October, I was back here. And I've been here just about ever since. I guess you could call this my base of operations."

"Have you made much progress in that time?" Haylen pressed. "I can't imagine you would stay here if you weren't making any progress."

"I've made some progress," Dan hesitantly admitted. "I've come to find out, for certain, the last stop the caravan made was here. So, I've been trying to keep putting together the story but I keep getting the run around. No one here wants to talk, not for long."

Haylen nodded. "What do you know so far?"

"A few things," Dan said, pushing a handwritten list across the table towards them. "Take a look at this."

"Did you write this?" Rhys lowered his voice as he looked over the list. "Or…"

"I…well…" Dan sighed and lowered his voice to be audible only to the Knight and the Scribe across from him. "I stole the list from one of the desks inside one of the communal homes here."

Haylen and Rhys shared a nervous look before they began to read over the list.

SAFE Report September 2287
28% failure rate, delta -1% (need more data samples)
Unnamed Travellers (2): 1 failure, logged
Slog Ghouls (5): 1 failure, definite false positive
Stockton Caravan (5): 2 failures, resolved (Railroad or Institute?)
Mister Tims (1): 0 failures
Finch Farms (3): 0 failures, working long term trade deal
Boyd (1): 1 failure, logged
"Honest" Dan (1): 0 failures

"Railroad?" Haylen said, folding up the note and sliding it into her pocket. "I've heard of the Institute, but what's the Railroad?"

"The Railroad are supposedly a group of people who help synths escape the Institute," Dan replied. "But they're also, more than likely, something of an urban legend. Whether they actually exist or not is up to debate. It could easily be the Institute's way of continuing to manipulate the Commonwealth."

"Interesting," Rhys said, glancing to Haylen. "Out of curiosity, do you know much about this Institute?"

"Not more than anyone else does," Dan said darkly. "People say the Institute are the Commonwealth's bogeyman, and that's not inaccurate. They most likely snatch people, and are the people who create synths. But I don't know anything else more than that. No one knows where they are, or what their motivations are. If I had to take a guess on that, though, I would say science for the sake of fulfilling one's own curiosity. They definitely don't care about the Commonwealth, not unless it benefits them."

"Do you think Covenant might be part of the Institute, then?" Haylen queried. "If they are, also, so fixated on synths?"

Dan stared at her, stunned. "I had never considered that," He said, horrified. "But, you know something? You could be right. I don't got proof Covenant's involved with what happened, other than that list, but I know they are. They have to be. But I hope to God they aren't part of the Institute. That would make all of this much worse and much more disturbing than it already is."

Railroad Headquarters
December the 13th, 2287
23:32

"So, egghead," Deacon pulled up a chair beside Tom, who was sat in front of his computer terminal. "I have to ask: what crisis are you solving today?"

"Depends, still trying to get Des to approve my babies going out and about," Tom said, chewing on some liquorice he had made. "She still says MILA isn't necessary! I can't believe it! MILA is how we're going to know what the Institute is doing at all times!"

"Tom, I already said it, but I'll say it again," Desdemona said, looking up from the maps she was going through. "Unless you can add some form of surveillance technology to ensure the security of our routes in, through, and out of the Commonwealth, we can't waste what few resources we have at the moment sending people into the field to set up your toys."

He groaned. "Come on, Des! What would you even want me to add to them?"

"She's said that before, too, Tom, I'm almost certain," Glory said, sounding exasperated. "Your 'MILA's would need to have cameras, motion sensors, weatherproofing to protect those instruments, and be able to be attached to a self sustaining, secret power network to send information back to us. Have you made headway on adding any of those things?"

"Slowly," Tom said with a shrug. "But MILA will give us data of all sorts, data way more valuable than what we'd get from just some low tech, pre-War surveillance gear!"

"I'll play devil's advocate for once," Deacon said, reaching over and wrapping an arm over Tom's shoulders with a sly grin. "Hear the man out, you guys. Don't be such sticklers."

"You've got to be kidding," Glory muttered, sending Desdemona an apologetic look. "Should I get Carrington to shut them up?"

Desdemona sighed. "I doubt it would do anything," She said dryly. "I think we're well beyond the point of reason in this conversation. It's late, and everyone's exhausted, I'm sure."

"Hey, big D!" Deacon called over to her and Glory. "You listening?"

Desdemona eyed him strangely for a moment. "Yes, Deacon," She finally said. "You have our undivided attention."

"What's going on?" Carrington came in from the mainframe room and grimaced when he saw Deacon and Tom. "What in the world are the two of you up to?"

"Desdemona still won't approve my MILAs," Tom informed him. "We're trying to convince her to."

Carrington raised an eyebrow. "I truly wish I could believe you weren't serious."

"Well, if you don't want to hear about how my MILAs will help show the Institute is mutating the water and messing with the atmosphere, why don't we talk about my Nano-Blood theory?" Tom pried Deacon off him and stood up to take something out of a drawer. "I'm coming really close to figuring out a solution to that problem!"

"Sounds more concerning than promising," Glory cautioned. "Remember what happened the last time he made a concoction for some sort of health purpose? Because I do, and it was not pretty. Rest in peace to Tommy after the Switchboard, but I'm shocked Tom's shot didn't make him super f*cking sick."

"This shot is way better than the last one!" Tom protested. "And it's important! The Institute has these tiny, microscopic robots in the food, man! And they report back to them! We have to do all of the tests we can to make sure the Institute isn't watching us! Especially because, sometimes, the tests can lie!"

"Tom," Carrington said irritably. "All of that, again, is rubbish."

"You just don't get it, Carrington!" Tom said, sending him a pointed look. "The Institute is in your blood! It's in all of our blood!"

"I wouldn't be shocked by it, honestly, if he's right," Deacon said, stretching out his arms and swivelling around in his chair. "If the Institute can create synths, and create synths as intense as Coursers, then they can probably put anything in people's blood whether they are from the Institute or not."

"And we don't know how far out the Institute's reach is, either, which makes them even more mysterious," Tom added, pulling a serum bottle with a label scrawled onto it in marker. "I mean, we have been able to place them as far out as the Capital Wasteland!"

"If I recall correctly, per the intel we received from Patriot last year, an Institute leader is active in the Capital Wasteland," Desdemona said, running a hand through her hair. "So, yes, we are aware of a vast Institute presence."

"Exactly!" Tom said, winking at her. "Which is part of why I've continued to work on my serum to limit the Institute's ability to track us! Or, anyone, really! I've been working on this one for a few months now, and I think it's going to work real well this time!"

"I'll try it!" Deacon said, pulling off his sunglasses and folding them down his shirt. "I've been watching him test it on himself, and he's been perfectly fine."

"Because that's a comforting thought," Glory swore under her breath. "You can't seriously think that's a reasonable assumption to make."

"I appreciate someone showing some initiative!" Tom said, turning towards Deacon. "You want to be really safe? I can give you the shot or even two. And, sure, Desdemona says no one has to, of course, but I'm sure this is the shot that will kill all the little robots!"

"Tom!" Carrington stared at the two of them, aghast. "There's battery acid in that serum of yours!"

Tom shrugged. "You can't nuke an omelette without irradiating some eggs. We got algae, some yummy bacteria culture, and just a little bit of battery acid. Like I said, gotta burn 'em! Everyone says 'Tinker Tom is crazy!' until I'm right! All of those Institute scientists have centuries on us!"

Desdemona frowned. "Tom, so much as we appreciate you and your skill as an engineer and scientist, there is no logic in that statement, and seemingly no logic in the way you're trying to develop or alter or reformulate chems."

"Which is why you always remind him no one has to take it or believe his theories about aliens or sh*t like that," Deacon said, taking the serum from Tom. "Alright! Go for it, Tom!"

Carrington grimaced. "You're encouraging him, now?"

"Hey!" Tom said. "I take these kind of things all the time, and I'm still standing! If a little battery acid were going to –"

"Tom, you have been through immense trauma, and, while brilliant, are still an addict," Carrington sharply reminded him. "The amounts of psycho and mentats you take are incredibly high. Significantly higher than anyone should take."

"I'm doing the best I can," Tom replied, tiredly rubbing at his eyes. "And the point is I'm still here! We all are! Being alive is a victory enough, especially after the Switchboard."

"We still have –" Deacon stumbled back and, against his will, began retching. "We still!" He got out, reaching for a rubbish bin to catch most of his bile in. "There's lots we need to eventually get back! Your prototype included!"

Carrington bristled. "Please don't remind me," He said darkly. "I doubt the Institute would take it, but I would be much more comfortable if we already had it. With the Brotherhood Of Steel apparently entering the Commonwealth, I would very much not appreciate them taking it, and I suspect they would, if they come across it."

"The Brotherhood tends to seek out pre-War military sites, too," Desdemona said heavily. "And, if they know of it, the Switchboard will absolutely be on their list of places to look. I suppose, then, we're incredibly lucky to have moved location even though it was under terrible, necessary circ*mstances. Seems that's what everything comes back to for us, these days."

Chapter 5: Something New

Chapter Text

USAF Satellite Station Olivia
December the 14th, 2287
14:22

Though the wind had been biting and freezing, it was not what unsettled her the most about the former air force satellite station. As it happened, that would be due to its shockingly intact underground intelligence facility.

Before the War, she had only been inside the satellite station a handful of times, all of which had been after Nate had been assigned to intelligence rather than active combat after returning from a brief tour of duty in Anchorage. Though several computer terminals were no longer functional, a few of them having melted through themselves, there were a surprising number of functional ones. Some of them, she reasoned, had to have been created and installed in the years after the War. Still, the knowledge some of them had been there since before the War unsettled her. Her heart pounding in her chest, Nora followed after Preston, with Codsworth and Derek only a few paces behind her. Slowly, they descended down the steps into the station proper. A few raiders had attacked them outside, and disturbed a nest of mole rats. In a way, the mole rats distracting the raiders made it easier to kill them and get to the entrance of the station proper. Kill. They had to kill people. She had to kill people. Nora found her hands tightening around her gun. It still didn’t feel quite real. They had to kill raiders, or the raiders would kill them or innocent people, the regular people of the Commonwealth who wanted nothing but the chance to live in peace.

Now, I understand him better. I never quite knew how Nate managed to stay so strong when he came home from combat. Now, I do. If I don’t do this, if we don’t do this, then more people will suffer. It’s hard, but it’s something we have to do. Just like he had to when he had to kill members of the Chinese Army.

Every noise, every scutter of a rad roach or every squeak of a rat, was startling. The farther down the steps they were, the closer to the station proper deep underground they were, the sounds of voices and footsteps grew louder. It was the sound of sick f*cking laughter, however, that stopped the four of them in their tracks. Derek took in a sharp breath, and pushed up his glasses before reaching for and pulling out his gun. Preston squared his shoulders and reloaded his musket. Codsworth quieted his systems to a barely audible hum, ready to protect Nora and the Minutemen the second the raiders came running for them. Slowly, they made their way to the bottom of the stairs. Carefully, they each stepped over the laser trip wire on the floor. Then, Derek slid over to the computer terminal on a desk just before the corner to go deeper into the station. After a few minutes, Nora, Preston, and Codsworth standing at the ready, he hacked into the computer, and manually shut off the defence systems in the station. The laser trip wire shut off, and the humming of turrets went silent too. With near silence for just a moment, the voices of the raiders became louder. They were only a few metres away, at most.

“Ready?” Preston whispered, rolling his shoulders back when Nora and Derek shortly nodded. “Alright. It’s now or never.”

Not taking a second to hesitate, Preston began down the second flight of stairs down to the bottom of the satellite station, his musket at the ready. Nora reloaded her shotgun as she went after, just behind him. Derek grabbed his pistol from where he had briefly set it down on the desk. Codsworth braced himself for a fire fight. Nearly the second they reached the end of the stairs, a few raiders ran out from a room at the end of the hall to the right of the stairs. Preston barely evaded a shot towards his head, but managed to shoot down the raider with a few shots from his musket. Codsworth flew past him, and began to take on the raiders who had been and were coming into the room. Nora narrowed her eyes and fired a few rounds in quick succession. Her heart began to pound harder and harder in her chest when it occurred to her that her aim was improving. Necessity speeds up everything. If only things didn’t have to be like this. A raider with a tire iron came from the shadows out of the corners of her eyes, about ready to strike Preston in the neck, and, swearing under her breath, Nora shot them, causing them to stumble back.

Another shot. Another. Another. All around them, raiders seemed to be closing in, and some of them fell to the floor, dead. Her hands began to shake again, her mind growing foggy, only to be drawn back from the haze when Derek pushed her out of the way, stopping her from being shot in the head by mere inches. Voices rose among the din of gunshots, shouts. One of them caused her to stop in her tracks, not out of familiarity, but out of horror. I’ve killed hundreds so I can feel alive! Don’t be pathetic! The words made her blood run cold. Reloading her gun and her entire body beginning to shake, Nora turned around, providing fire support for Preston and Derek as they pushed forward. It was the sound of a heavy gun spinning up that drew her back to the situation at hand again. About ready to puke, Nora swivelled to fire at the tall, muscular woman who was revving her minigun, Preston, Derek, and Codsworth all shooting at her too. Within the span of a minute that felt to be much longer, they managed to shoot her down, their own armour weakening under the onslaught of bullets from her and the other raiders still fighting. When she fell to the ground, dead, however, something in the air felt to lift, if only briefly.

She must have been their leader. She –

Nora forced herself to focus, reloading her shotgun, and firing at the last few raiders who came running towards them. Codsworth flew by her side to cover her back, and Derek and Preston did the same, shooting at the raiders with their backs to each other. Time seemed to become immaterial, even non-existent. Shot after shot. Reloading. Shot after shot again. It almost became a steady rhythm. When the raiders finally ceased their onslaught, when they were all dead, Nora corrected herself, the silence that came over them was almost painful. A ringing in her ears felt as though it were going to beat her senseless, and, holstering her gun, Nora walked over to a set of boxes, things, she had no doubt, the raiders had stolen. Her hands shaking again, she began rummaging through it until, finally, her fingers clasped around something small, something smooth, and metal. When she pulled it out, she breathed a low sigh of relief, and opened the locket to ensure it was what they had been looking for. Sure enough, inside the locket was a small portrait of the family who had sent them. Her heart sank when she saw their happy smiles, how they had never could have imagined they would lose one of the girls in the photograph. Closing the locket, she turned it over to see the engraving on the back. Sure enough, it had the family name – Abernathy.

“There were more of them than I would have expected,” Preston shook his head. “Codsworth, if you could see if there’s anything worth taking, I would greatly appreciate it. We need as many supplies as we can find if we’re going to build up and connect as many settlements in the Commonwealth as possible.”

“I’ll be right on it!” Codsworth eagerly replied. “Shall I put them in the military grade bags the three of you brought along?”

“Yes,” Preston confirmed. “Thank you, Codsworth,” He took a look around them and sighed. “Damn raiders. All they do is take and take from ordinary people who just want to live. I don’t understand. How can someone lose their humanity so much as to believe this is okay?”

“Some people don’t care about the world, or other people, at all,” Derek said. “But, then again, that’s what this whole thing is. A damn shame.”

“It’s so wrong,” Nora said bitterly, securing the Abernathy family’s locket in the pocket of her jacket before reloading her gun. “No one deserves to have their lives torn apart the way these people do it. How can anyone be so selfish?”

“I have no idea,” Derek said grimly. “But, at the end of the day, they are not like most people, not even close. Most people want to do what’s right and help each other…most people value more than selfish satisfaction.”

Nora nodded, but her voice got caught in her throat as a thought she had struggled to suppress finally reached up into her consciousness.

If you knew me then, you don’t know me now.

Somehow, the realisation slammed into her harder than anything else.

Somehow, realising she could never again be the woman she was before the War left Nora feeling colder than she ever had.

Goodneighbour
December the 17th, 2287
23:15

“Sorry about Bobbi. She’s always stirring the pot around here. Didn’t think she’d escalate to assaulting anyone over it, though, not after we had words about it the last time she went and tried to pull that sh*t.”

MacCready uncomfortably looked between Hanco*ck and the mayor’s bodyguard, Fahrenheit. I wonder what her real name is. Unless her parents hated her – or really liked that stupid dystopian novel – she had to have changed her name at some point, right? His curiosity quickly disappeared when he caught a glimpse of her out of the corners of his eyes. Something about the way she held herself and her weapons sent him back to when he was younger, when he nine, and when he had first learn to fire a gun. In some ways, it had been a rite of passage. Nine. Every time a kid in Lamplight turned nine, they learnt how to use guns. Even now, he didn't quite know why he took to them so easily. MacCready sighed. And, soon after, I became the mayor. Someone people took seriously. That had been a different life. In some ways, it had been a better life. Lucy had been alive. He had been able to help everyone else in Little Lamplight band together to get by. Things had been more simple. Life hadn’t necessarily been easier, but, at least, it had been more simple. At least, on paper, it had been more simple. Even emotions had been more simple, and foremost among them was love.

Love. The only thing that had ever thrown him for a wrench had been just a few years after he had left Lamplight, and stepped down as mayor, had been because of love. I was seventeen, she was eighteen, and I was the one who threw up when she told me she was pregnant. Still, it had been good. Even now, for as much pain as it sometimes brought him, the thought of his son always made him smile, no matter what. MacCready bit back the urge to swear when Fahrenheit loudly tapped her gun against the floor to get his attention. A slight pang of guilt began running through him every time he remembered how he had initially reacted to Hanco*ck intervening in the tussle with Bobbi. sh*t. I guess it’s not the worst thing I could have said. I’ve said worse. But still. I promised Duncan I wouldn’t swear anymore, promised him I wouldn’t do it anymore just a year ago. I didn’t even make it two years, and we've been here about that long. What’s wrong with me? His hands bouncing up and down against his knees, MacCready forced himself to calmly meet the gazes of Hanco*ck and Fahrenheit, trying to remind himself he had dealt with far worse people.

“I know I might have already offered to already,” MacCready said, taking off his hat to run his hands through his hair. “But I can find a way to get the caps to pay for the light in the bar to get fixed. I’m real sorry about all this, and –”

“Don’t worry about it,” Hanco*ck said with a dismissive shrug. “It ain’t your fault Bobbi got wasted, lost her sh*t, and tried to shoot you through the throat.”

MacCready winced. “Gross. Though probably not inaccurate. Bobbi seemed to be ready to kill me.”

“Oh, she was,” Fahrenheit said, tossing her rifle up in the air and catching it with one hand. “Bobbi has killed people before for less. She once pulled a shiv on someone for insinuating she could potentially be engaging in illegitimate activities. They used the word illegal, if I recall correctly. She wasn’t a fan of it.”

“It was a one off occurrence,” Hanco*ck quickly put in. “You don’t need to worry about her doing something like that to you, especially not after I put an end to whatever was happening in the Third Rail. She probably thinks you’re under my protection.”

“Which is a good thing for people to think,” Fahrenheit said with a slightly smug smile. “Even if it’s not really the truth.”

“Appreciate it,” MacCready nervously said. “What do I owe you?”

“You don’t owe me any caps, if that’s what you’re expecting,” Hanco*ck told him. “I just have a favour to ask, if you’re up for it. And I’ll be happy to pay you caps for it.”

MacCready raised an eyebrow. “What kind of job is it?”

“Has to do with Bobbi, as it happens,” Hanco*ck said, stretching his arms out. “I know you might be hesitant to take it up, but –”

“Hey, as long as you pay me well and stop her from killing me, I’ll consider it,” MacCready said, setting his hat back on his head. “What are you asking me to do?”

“Glad you’re keeping an open mind,” Hanco*ck said with a laugh. “It’s not anything too much, definitely easier than anything you had to do with the gunners. All I’m asking you to do is be my espionage contact here in Goodneighbour…and specifically for Bobbi.”

“Really, you’re going to pay him just to spy on Bobbi?” Fahrenheit irritably exclaimed. “We have more pressing concerns. The super mutants, for instance!”

“I have been thinking the super mutants are getting a little too friendly,” Hanco*ck admitted. “Maybe we should ‘round up some crew and thin them out.”

“Too aggressive. They will have a home ground advantage, plus, our fighters are disorganised,” She shook her head and cast a pointed look towards MacCready. “Which is why I would rather we pay him to deal with things like that. He was a gunner, he can more than handle some super mutants. When our people aren’t defending their homes, discipline and morale plummet.”

Hanco*ck frowned. “So what? We just turtle up? Why would we do that? We’re Goodneighbour! Besides, that’s not my style.”

“The only thing that’s ‘not your style’ is losing, Hanco*ck,” Fahrenheit snorted. “Trust me. If you’re not going to use this man, then we’ll have to keep the game defencive. A simple castle strategy will draw the mutants to us.”

“Let’s go with that, then,” Hanco*ck said, dusting his hands off. “We keep tabs on Bobbi, and we can knock the super mutants off slowly. I like it.”

“Great…” MacCready nervously looked between the two of them. “So…I’m just going to convince Bobbi I’m in on her game while actually working for you?”

“Precisely!” Hanco*ck said with a grin. “And don’t let Fahrenheit scare you. I hold up my deals. I’ll pay you a thousand caps a week. You bring me a file of information at the end of every week on Bobbi and what’s going on, and I give you a thousand caps. I know good skills don’t come cheap. We got a deal? How about we come up with secret handshake for it. Got any ideas?”

“Tunnel snakes rule!” MacCready nodded and cheered, high fiving Hanco*ck who eyed him rather strangely. “Sorry,” MacCready said, taking a step back. “Heard that a long time ago.”

Fahrenheit rolled her eyes. “You’re a nuisance…but useful.”

“Nuisance?” MacCready laughed. “And here I was, thinking you were starting to warm up to me.”

“Not a chance,” Fahrenheit replied without missing a beat. “Unless you prove you’re worth the trouble, I’m not going to be giving you any more praise than acknowledging your utility.”

MacCready sighed. “Isn’t the real concern about Bobbi being up to no good?”

“It is,” Hanco*ck assured him. “Because, let’s face it: if Bobbi’s feeling confident about something, it probably ain’t anything good.”

“I got the sense of that,” MacCready agreed. “Something about her isn’t right.”

“Well, thanks to you, we won’t have to worry about whatever she’s planning,” Hanco*ck winked. “Now! Can I offer you a drink?”

MacCready shrugged. “If you’re offering, start with some Nuka Cola Quantum, add some vodka, whiskey, and gin. Shake it and finish with a splash of radscorpian venom.”

Hanco*ck laughed. “Joining the insane crowd, are you? Want some psycho thrown in there too?”

“Nah, don’t like chems, just want the drink,” MacCready replied. “And insane would be asking for a double.”

“What a great team,” Fahrenheit swore under her breath. “You two are going to drive me mad working together.”

The Institute
December the 20th, 2287
17:26

“Here’s the update report you requested, Dr. Li. I know things are critical at the moment, what with preparing for a potential invasion of the Commonwealth by those ‘Brotherhood Of Steel’ people.”

With a short nod, Dr. Madison Li took the report from the hands of her particularly enthusiastic protégé. Albeit uncomfortable with the thought of saying so, observing the work the twenty year old handled accurately and swiftly sparked a hint of pride in her. It’s been quite a while since I’ve come across someone as dedicated as her, though Miss Spencer is certainly a close second. Their contributions to Phase Three alone have been invaluable. How we’re going to deter the Brotherhood, however, is a separate issue. A decade. She had been given a just shy of a decade of peace from the Brotherhood due to the respect the then Elder had for her. For as many dissenters as there had been, Elder Owyn Lyons had permitted her to leave with the understanding they would not go looking for or bother her. It had held up so far, yet something in her felt certain the Brotherhood, presently under new and much younger leadership, she reckoned, would not hold up their end of the bargain despite the contributions she had made to putting an end to the Enclave permanently.

If anything, she suspected their true goal was not to aid the Commonwealth but to destroy the Institute, spurred on by delusions of grandeur.

“So long as you’re willing to be flexible or, potentially, jump between projects, there’s always something for you to do,” Madison told the young woman, taking a cursory look through the report. “As I’m sure you’ve heard by now, the Brotherhood Of Steel are in the Commonwealth, and one of their directives is, likely, to target the Institute. Concerningly, the Brotherhood are relentless. We have to be especially careful and precise in how we hold them back from and, of course, prepare to drive them away from the Commonwealth.”

“Absolutely,” Rosalind said, hint of annoyance crossing face. “What do they even want with us, let alone the rest of the Commonwealth?”

“Whatever it is they want with the rest of the Commonwealth, I doubt we’ll know until they’ve already done damage,” Madison said shortly. “As for the Institute, they most likely want to, at best, interfere with our work, or, at worst, initiate a full assault.”

“Full assault?”

“Yes, Jacqueline, full assault,” Madison said, turning towards the sixteen year old who had been typing up potential schematics for weapons development. “Hence the necessity of the work you and Rosalind have been doing. Speaking of which, what’s the status on the plasma emitter concept?”

“Close to being able to move into physical development instead of theory,” Jacq cheerfully replied. “I think we’ve finally got the basic mechanics down. It’s honestly a relief.”

“It is,” Rosalind agreed with a laugh. “We’ve been trying to figure this out for months now, but, finally, we’re making real headway.”

“We’ll be able to get the blueprints printed out by the end of the week,” Jacq added. “After which we’ll put in a few notes for Dr. Watson before submitting it to him. Hopefully that will expediate the process of him being able to hand that off for parts manufacturing. I also finished the specs for the integration of new, stronger materials for armour.”

“Both projects are going pretty well,” Rosalind added, suddenly turning to Madison. “Oh! I almost forgot to mention, Dr. Li! I’ve also got the energy source equations for the plasma emitter finished a little early, getting a head start on which energy sources to test the emitter with for efficacy and beam focus and intensity. I have some extra bandwidth, now, if there’s anything that needs doing.”

Madison raised an eyebrow. “Already? But you just started those two days ago.”

“I’ve been cutting back on sleep so I can get more work done,” Rosalind shrugged. “I was on a roll, so I put in a few extra hours.”

“Well, I’m certainly impressed,” Madison said, glancing between her and Jacqueline. “Both of you, keep up the good work. I have to write up a few reports and check my emails. I will be in my office if you have anything you need of me.”

Rosalind and Jacq both nodded, glimpsing back every so often at the head of Advanced Systems as she walked down the hallway to her office. The moment she was out of sights, they returned to their work. For the head of Advanced Systems herself, it was something of a relief to be able to return to work with less of a chance to be intruded upon by, most often, Dr. Evan Watson. Half the time they had spoken, of late, he had been agitated by the cutbacks to power consumption or been far more curious than she was comfortable about her past relationship with the Brotherhood. A relationship I would like to forget, and one I had hoped I would be allowed to. She frowned at the thought, her heels clicking sharply against the tile floor. When she scanned into her office, she waited for the door to shut behind her before setting it to locked, requiring a request for entry to be approved before opening. Although loathe to admit it, her thoughts were circling around some of the few pieces of time in the Capital Wasteland she had liked, missed, even.

A handful of people were at the forefront of those thoughts. Some of them were dead. James’ face and voice were the first to come to mind. His often unkempt, dark hair and easy smile. The pride in his voice every time he spoke of his daughter. Annie. She would be…around twenty nine, now, wouldn’t she? I wonder…is she still taking after him? Still practising medicine? She always was capable in it, even at only nineteen. James would be proud to know she helped complete the project and put an end to the Enclave. Catherine would too. It’s a damn shame they didn’t get the chance to see it. And after what the Brotherhood put her through, all but holding her captive and making her work for them 'in exchange' for them finding her father...I hope she and the woman she was engaged to are still safe in that Vault I brought her home to.James. Catherine. The face of her protégé then came back to her too. James. Janice...they weren’t the only ones who, she was sure, hadn’t deserved to die. Madison sighed, sitting down at her desk and logging into her computer terminal. Lyons’ girl, Sarah. Even knowing the levels of radiation in that room, she still went in and activated the water purifier. If the Brotherhood have desecrated her memory, that may be one of the worst crimes they’ve ever committed. The Brotherhood. There were few people within its ranks she had thought well of, all of whom were now, she was sure, dead, bar one of them, one she suspected may have left –

The sound of her terminal indicating she had received a new email drew her from her thoughts, and her eyes narrowed when she saw the sender.

Ayo.J

Dr. Li, if you do not comply with my requests for access to your personal computer terminal, I will raise the issue with Father to ensure it is able to be searched. As a matter of security, it is paramount for the SRB to be certain you are in no contact with any persons associated with the Brotherhood Of Steel, via either your personal emails, other methods, or based upon your own, if precedent stands, exhaustive notetaking. You have until the end of the month before I go to Father directly.

Dr. Justin Matthew Ayo, Acting Head, Synth Retention Bureau

“Not if I speak to him first,” Madison swore under her breath. “And since when is it the SRB’s place to intrude upon everyone else’s day to day lives?”

With not a moment for a second thought, Madison reached for a sticky note, writing down a reminder to speak to the Director when she knew he would be alone in his office in a little less than an hour. She then marked Justin’s email as read and closed the email relay to open the files to compare recently submitted specs for potential additions to the reactor to keep up its efficiency until Phase Three could be completed. Her mind would not focus, however, not only because of Justin’s threatening. She was well aware she was far from the only one Justin had been threatening of late, and knew, too, she would be far from the last. He was wrong, of course, and all of his accusations had no basis in fact or reality. That said, she had wondered about the sole member of the Brotherhood she still thought well of, and whom she suspected left their ranks. Though she had no desire to dwell on it, and certainly not after what happened to James, her feelings did go deeper than concern for a friend.

“This is why I don’t socialise much,” Madison muttered to herself. “It never seems to end well for me.”

Diamond City
December the 21st, 2287
1:11

“Here’s your drink,” Vadim said, grinning at Cait and pushing a bottle of moonshine towards her. “You drink on the house tonight.”

“You’re giving me a thousand caps a week for a month and free drinks for a night?” Cait winked. “And I thought you were just trying to mess with Tommy by making him lay awake in fear about the things I do when I’m not on the clock for him, classic mobster he is, always wanting to know everything but never realising he don’t need to know what I do off the clock.”

Pulling out a bottle of moonshine for himself, Vadim popped off the cap and tapped his bottle against Cait’s. The friends quickly began laughing and took back a few swigs before setting their bottles down. Sweeping up broken glass on the other end of the bar, Scarlett paused to eye her boss and her (increasingly frequent) patron strangely. Cait slowly began spinning herself around from where she was sat on one of the many bar stools, waving her arms up in the air like tree branches waving in the wind. Behind the bar and across from her, Vadim began to hum and organise the various forms of alcohol on the shelves on the wall. Amused, Scarlett rolled her eyes and went back to work, only pausing when the door into the hotel swung open. Taking the now full dustpan and dumping the pieces of broken glass into the trash, Scarlett walked towards the entryway to greet the late night customer, her eyes widening in surprise when they brushed her off (unsurprisingly) and when she saw her (surprising) jacket. Sewed and ironed on to glossy black leather was a massive patch with an infamous gang logo.

Atom Cats.

“Hey, Dimy!” The woman said with a sassy swing to her voice. “What’s buzzing, Bobrov?”

“Depends on if you’re here to drink, Rowdy,” Vadim said with a chuckle. “You want some or did you decide ‘no, no I don’t live up to the name’ without telling?”

“Nah, you’re going to have to give me something better than that,” Rowdy said, hopping to sit up on top of the bar. “Don’t get big headed, buster. Nobody will ever be able to tame me.”

“I like a girl without a filter,” Cait swung herself on the barstool to be facing Rowdy. “Think we could teach each other something?”

“Sure,” Rowdy said with a smile. “What’d you think of this?”

Rowdy suddenly leaned over to kiss Cait, who kissed her back before teasingly biting her lips.

“You’re going to have to do better than that,” Cait said, laughing when she saw Yefim staring at her strangely. “Something on your mind, Yefim? Or are you going to start a bar fight with your brother?”

“No fights,” Yefim said shortly, walking over to be face to face with his brother from across the bar. “We need to talk, Vadim.”

“Here we go,” Rowdy rolled her eyes. “Did he forget to pay the bills again?”

“I did pay!” Vadim confirmed. “Why do you look so grouchy, brother? Lighten up! You ruin the mood of the whole bar!”

“I’m with him on that,” Cait said with a falsely dramatic sigh. “A bar isn’t a bar without a couple of fights, or drunk people passing out on the floor, or bile getting all over at least one table.”

“She’s got the nail beat down on the head,” Rowdy said, high fiving Cait. “Bars aren’t some sort of boring place with a bunch of stiff assholes who can’t stand anyone below their status. That’s what the damn bar in the upper stands is for. What’s it called again? Something about Colonials and beer?”

“The Colonial Taphouse,” Cait said with a groan. “The barkeep is such a twat. Never seems to know a damn thing unless that one blonde woman comes in, her tit* half out.”

“Pembroke’s wife?” Vadim laughed. “No, no, she doesn’t wear like that. More close to see through.”

Cait snickered. “It is see through when she’s been in the rain…or otherwise wet.”

Yefim grimaced. “You are all weird. I’m concerned. But Vadim,” He turned sternly to his brother. “About the bar. Could you maybe cut people off earlier at night?”

Vadim furrowed his brow in confusion. “What? What kind of question is that?”

“Yeah!” Rowdy put in. “Why would you cut people off? They’re just having fun!”

“Fun?” Yefim shook his head and scowled at his brother when he started laughing again. “Vadim! Do you know how much work it is to handle hotel guests that black out?”

Vadim shrugged. “They go just fine. Piper got poisoned a few years ago but survived. She only took a little sip of the drink that got poisoned. Then she drank three bottles of our Bobrov’s Best Moonshine and was just fine!”

“Piper vomited all over two couches!” Yefim gaped at him. “She then had the worst hangover I ever saw, and her poor little sister had to help her get past it!”

“I remember that,” Scarlett said, shuddering a little. “I’m glad Vadim caught the asshole who tried to poison her before he got away. I doubt that man tried to poison anyone for angry caravaners again after Vadim beat him to sh*t. Besides, Piper had been right about the caravaners inflating prices and secretly selling major discounts to the wealthiest people in the city. Namely, of course, Ann Codman and Malcolm Latimer.”

“None of that is the point!” Yefim said, looking disgusted when he turned to his brother. “After some guests black out, we’ve had to start dragging them to bed! Making sure they don’t die of alcohol poisoning! Not to mention the vomit and –”

“Nonsense,” Vadim waved a hand dismissively. “It’s all part of the Dugout Inn experience. I am not shutting down the bar early, and that’s that.”

Rowdy raised an eyebrow, glancing between the two brothers.

“You know, I’ve got to ask. Why did you guys go into business together if all you do is fight?”

“We don’t always fight,” Yefim said with a resigned sigh. “We only sometimes have different ideas on how to run the business.”

“But our different ideas don’t matter much,” Vadim said, grinning when his brother gave him a small smile and nodded. “Working for yourselves is family tradition for us!”

“Really?” Cait shared a curious look with Rowdy. “Since when?”

“Since before the War,” Yefim replied, a hint of pride entering his voice. “About fifty five years before the War, our great-great-great-great-grandparents – younger than us at the time – fought to keep our native country free from Russian invaders.”

“The invaders had support from China,” Vadim added. “But our native country of Ukraine won against Russia because of support and aid from the United States. The invaders fought to take us over for many years, but we kicked them out eventually, sent them all the way back to Moscow!”

Rowdy stared at the two brothers in awe. “That,” She began. “Is f*cking incredible!”

“Now I get why you two are so dedicated,” Cait said, triumphantly raising her beer to the air. “To victory against evil!”

“Victory!” Rowdy cheered, clapping. “Now,” She turned to Cait. “What is it you're doing these days? I ain’t seen you ‘round in a while.”

Cait winked. “Let’s just say I've learnt how to rip the testicl*s right off a raider…and get paid to do it in front of a crowd. You should see me in a fight.”

“Cait is one of the best talents in fighting,” Vadim said, proudly setting his hands to her shoulders for a brief moment. “Never bet against her. She always proves people wrong. Tiny girl, but strong.”

“Though she be but little, she is fierce,” Yefim quoted. “I do not enjoy fights, but I know Cait is strong.”

“Well, with that in mind, I now have a question,” Scarlett said, sitting down on one of the empty barstools near Cait. “What’s motivated you?”

“Let’s just say I met the devil with no plan and nothing to lose,” Cait smirked. “And I’ve come out alive. Pretty f*cking good as a reminder not to let myself be taken out, if you ask me.”

Bunker Hill
December the 23rd, 2287
18:24

“Are you here for our mutual friends?”

“Not today, Jacob. I came to get a few things, but have no information or updates for you.”

“Getting a few things for them or for you?”

“For me and my family. Why?”

“Simply making conversation. Though I do have something I want to warn you about.”

Hadley Branson nervously fidgeted with her glasses, but nodded, adjusting her large hiking backpack. Stockton watched her closely, and waited until she was nearly out of sights in the trading courtyard. Reaching into his pockets, Jacob Stockton fumbled around until he found a pack of cigarettes. He pulled one out, fumbled around in the pockets of his blazer some more until he found his lighter, and leaned back against the gate a little, watching the city just beyond the fortifications as the last bit of the sun disappeared for the day. Some days, having a cigarette break was what kept him sane, a thought not lost on him when he lit one and took his first draw. When the guards for the evening shift came by and took their posts, Stockton took a few more draws on his cigarette before walking back into the town proper. Slowly, he began a walk around the town, absentmindedly continuing to smoke his cigarette, and listening to some of the idle chatter. It was only when he heard a sudden crack that he turned around, stubbed out his cigarette on one of the concrete paths, and came face to face with the town’s medic, who was shaking her head.

“What did I tell you about smoking?” Kay said, cracking a whip against the wall. “And, sorry about the noise, I promised Deb I’d test these out before she sells ‘em.”

“Sometimes you just need to smoke to let things fall into perspective,” Stockton said. “I understand your medical concerns, but, if you should be concerned about anyone’s health around here when it comes to drugs, you should be concerned about Cricket and her…chem use.”

Kay grimaced. “Cricket has been taking way too many doses of psycho and daytripper for too many years. She’s only twenty nine but she has the voice of someone who has been using for nearly forty years. I truly don’t know what to do for her anymore.”

“She’s a strong ol’ gal,” Stockton said with a light chuckle. “Plenty of heavy chem users are perfectly well off, physically and mentally. Have you ever been to Goodneighbour? Their mayor, Hanco*ck, allegedly became a ghoul because of his drug use.”

“I’d have to see it to believe it,” Kay said with a faint smirk. “Something that drastic probably hasn’t been frequently observed.”

“You should go speak to him yourself at some point,” Stockton said, stretching out his arms. “Speaking of your medical expertise, my shoulder keeps creaking whenever it rains. I don’t imagine it’s supposed to do that…is it?”

Kay set down the whip, pulling a box of pills out from within her desk.

“Probably arthritis,” She said, pushing the box towards him when he handed her a small bag of caps. “I reckon it’s inflammation in the joints combined with the pressure in the air that’s causing the painful friction. Take one of these every few hours when it’s wet, and one a day on days with no precipitation.”

“Thanks, doc,” Stockton said, pocketing the painkillers. “Want me to take that whip off your hands? I can take it to –”

“I can take this beauty to my wife all by myself,” Kay said, rolling her eyes as she came around from behind her desk. “Is there anything else you would like to discuss, or are you simply loitering, now, for the sake of…dare I suggest conversation?”

Stockton chuckled. “You know I am not one much for conversation,” He said, following her. The two of them began to walk into the main square. “Since you are offering, however, I wanted to know what you thought of our…visitor.”

“You’re referring to the man who came in and interrupted two caravans – one of them your own – leaving and killed a brahmin to prove a point?” Kay said in disgust. “I think he’s a despicable piece of sh*t we won’t have to see again. Not sure why he accused us of harbouring synths. We showed him around the whole damn place, not a synth in sight. Strikes me as one of those raider types.”

“You talking about that Kellogg son of a bitch?” Deb frowned when her wife nodded and tossed her the whip upon entering the square with Stockton. “He was a real nasty piece of work. Pretty sure he ain’t a raider, though.”

“Raider?” Hadley said, turning around from where she had been speaking with Cricket to see them. “I thought raiders weren’t a problem at Bunker Hill. They certainly aren’t at Diamond City.”

“Raiders aren’t a problem here,” Deb confirmed. “Which is part of why I don’t think the son of a bitch is a raider. I’d put money on him being ruthless enough to be one, but I don’t think he actually is one.”

“I didn’t think he was too bad!” Cricket said, her voice caught somewhere between antsy and giddy. “I made a lot of caps off him! I don’t have a problem with people who pay good! They keep helping Bunker Hill through caps, and I get better supplies, and then they can blow even bigger holes in people!” She leaned towards Hadley, tapping her fingers up and down the woman’s arms, startling her. “Psst…want a new gun? Guns, guns, guns, and more guns! Just for you! Just think how damned good it’ll feel holding one of…these!”

Hadley nearly leapt away from her, shaking a little when she turned to face the young woman.

“We’re all good with guns, right now,” Hadley told her. “Keep in mind that, unless we’re out and actually need them, we keep all our guns locked up in a safe so they can’t be stolen or mis-used.”

Cricket pouted. “You’re no fun Had-Hads!”

“See, if Cricket thinks someone’s normal, they ain’t normal,” Tony said, shaking his head when his father tried to make him sit back down. “He threatened us all because he thought we could be helping synths! After that especially, I’m half tempted to join the Railroad, with all this sh*t.”

“Tony Albert Savoldi –” His father began.

“People got to do something, dad!” Tony exclaimed, staring at his father in shock. “It’s not even that I care about synths, because, really, I don’t care too much about them. But the Railroad are the only group of people in the Commonwealth standing up to the Institute. f*ck that man who came by, Conrad was his name, wasn’t it?”

“Conrad Kellogg,” Stockton grimly confirmed. “I don’t know why anyone would think we want a damn thing to do with synths. We have enough to worry about with keeping our caravans safe already.”

“Goes triple for you,” Deb joked. “Seeing as you’ve got three major caravans working out of here.”

“Point is, Stockton’s right, and so is Joe,” Kay said, offering Tony a sympathetic look. “Your dad’s right. You don’t want to go out and get yourself killed for no reason, kid. You’re barely seventeen. Don’t throw your life away when you’ve got so much life to live.”

“Well, I doubt that son of a bitch will be back any time soon, anyways,” Deb said, cracking her knuckles and then the whip her wife had tossed her. “And, if he tries anything, I’ll chase him out of here like I did when he came by before. By the way, Hadley, sorry about not having the shotgun shells you and Derek like in stock. He just about took my entire stock of ammo.”

“Yikes,” Hadley said, putting her caps back in her backpack alongside the items she had bought from Deb, Cricket, and a few of the other traders passing through the square. “That’s terrible.”

“It was,” Stockton agreed, eyeing her closely when she pulled out a small notepad and pen, furiously writing something down with shaky hands and looking more anxious by the second. “You needn’t worry, Missus Branson. It won’t happen again.”

“I trust it won’t,” She said with a clipped tone, passing him the note. “Bring these to me later.”

Stockton nodded but his stomach sank when he took a quick glance at the note.

Spoke to the father of the Uni Point girl who’s been missing for a few years. He said a Conrad Kellogg was there because of something she had found and tried to sell to caravaners. Mercenary…or Institute?

Chapter 6: Something Used

Chapter Text

Greygarden
December the 26th, 2287
14:22

When they arrived at the settlement called Greygarden, they had expected to see a few people, some homes, and perhaps fortifications around a few crops.

What they had not expected to see was a settlement populated by nothing but robots, nothing but robots like their companion, Codsworth.

For his part, Preston Garvey took only a moment to let go of his expectations. Then, he smiled and greeted the many Mister Handy units who waved at or greeted him, Nora, Derek, and Codsworth. The settlement was not only something he never would have imagined but something he was in awe of. In seemingly as much awe, Codsworth was eager to take in as much as he could. After two centuries of solitude and fending off violent, terrifying people on my own, I was only a few hours away from a place with so many other beings just like me. Is this how they have coped without the people they had loved? It was a sombre thought, but seeing the smile on Nora’s face when she spoke to Preston alleviated the melancholia he briefly felt return after two centuries of waves of it interspersed with a drive to carry on, be, and look for the hope and happiness he knew still existed in the world. Walking a few paces behind them was Derek, his shot gun holstered, bag over his shoulders, and hands clasped behind his back. The settlement was, in some ways, eerily reminiscent of some of what the Enclave had built up to sustain themselves, what they in the Brotherhood had seen around a decade prior when they, after years of struggle, defeated and put an end to the Enclave. Though it was in every other way nothing like what he and his Brothers and Sisters had seen then, the faint reminder of a place where sentient beings, regardless of their robotic bodies, had been forced to submit to and sustain the Enclave made him uneasy and sick.

“Ah, welcome to Greygarden, darlings!” A white Mister Handy unit with a uniquely feminine voice drawled when the group entered the greenhouse. “This is the Commonwealth’s first and only hydroponics facility run entirely by robots!”

“That’s pretty ingenious,” Preston said with a polite tip of his hat. “Preston Garvey, Commonwealth Minutemen. We heard you were requesting aid?”

“Yes, indeed, we have come into some trouble of late,” She said. “But permit me to introduce us first. I am Supervisor White. You see, there are two kinds of robots here. Greygarden is quite unique. We have a distinct social structure, a hierarchy, if you will.”

“Is that how you’ve sustained yourselves for so long?” Nora said, curiosity irresistible. “This place seems familiar. I think I saw a bit about it on the news, back before the War.”

“Yes, construction was completed mere days before the War,” White said, a hum to her voice. “But you must be mistaken. The War was over two centuries ago.”

“If I may,” Codsworth politely interjected when he saw Nora flinch and her gaze fall to her feet. “Miss Nora and her family were put into cryogenic freeze in a Vault. It was only recently she re-entered the world.”

“Oh my!” White exclaimed turning to Nora. “Forgive me, darling, I can see it must be a sensitive subject for you. Allow me to explain. Robotics and artificial intelligence were our creator’s greatest passions, rivalled only by his love for the television.”

“How fascinating!” Codsworth exclaimed. “To think all of this has existed for so long and self sustained.”

“It is truly an impressive feat,” Preston agreed. “You must be quite proud of your work.”

“We are, thank you,” White said. “But, to the point of our hierarchy which has sustained us, this love of our creator’s is why myself and Supervisors Brown and Greene, have distinct voices. Edward Grey, our creator, rest his soul, differentiated us from the standard Mister Handys working alongside us, and, of course, their personalities, based upon characters from his favourite television programmes.”

Preston nodded. “How would you say that’s specifically aided your work?”

“Our creator designed me to be a supervisor of the garden, with sophisticated cognition processors. These permit me to perform complex analysis and decision making,” White proudly explained. “With the help of my fellow supervisors, we have carried out our facility’s mission as intended for over two centuries with nary an issue, that is, until recently, and, of course, why I am pleased you have come.”

“We’re happy to help in any way we can,” Preston replied. “What’s going on?”

“It’s our water,” White said. “Quite lamentable for this to be one of our most necessary resources yet also the one we can do the least about ourselves. Even if we filter all the water ourselves, or fill our condensers, it is not enough to sustain the farm.”

“There’s something wrong with the water?” Codsworth said, confused. “I’ve not come across any water unable to be filtered.”

“You mustn’t be from near here, then,” White said with a hint of disgust entering her voice. “The water – it’s simply ghastly here! Pressure is down! Radiation is up! Why, it’s practically toxic! Just think what it must be doing to my skin! We were able to cope with it for a few months, but it is becoming simply unbearable.”

“Especially for farming, I can only imagine,” Nora said, shaking her head. “Do you know where the water comes from? Is it from a local stream, or underground?”

“I’m afraid not. If it were, solving the issue would be manageable for us on her own,” White said. “Most of our water comes from the old Weston plant, south of here. Such an eyesore. I never did care for it, but, without any management, it has only looked worse and worse. Now, those outer looks are meddling with the one thing it is supposed to do well.”

“Weston Water Treatment?” Nora pressed, an eyebrow raised. “Is it accessible?”

“For us, I’m afraid not, but, for you…yes. See, this is where you come in,” White turned to face not only her but Preston, Codsworth, and Derek too. “We are unable to access the plant ourselves, and the current situation with the water will never do. I don’t mean to impose, darlings, but…perhaps you could lend us a hand?”

“We’d be more than happy to,” Preston assured her. “I take it you need us to access the facility?”

“Precisely,” White said. “I am glad you care enough to help. Trust me…I can make it worth your while. As water is everything to us, I am more than motivated to ensure we are able to have ours fixed. I presume, as our traders pay with them, you accept payment in the form of bottlecaps?”

“You don’t have to pay us,” Nora told her. “We’re glad to help.”

“I welcome the sentiment but I must insist,” White said. “You all will have more than earnt something for your hard work. Our need is simple – we need our water cleaned up. Our source has not changed at all over these two centuries, and we have come to this conclusion – our source needs to be fixed. As such, please, be dears and pay it a visit. See what you can do? Maybe tidy up the place? It must be filthy. If you can get it working cleanly again, I will more than come up with something for you.”

“Is there anything we should know about the location before we head out?” Derek said, almost as though he were prepared to take notes. “If you have done any reconnaissance, that is.”

“Again, it is the old Weston Water Treatment Plant,” White said, a hint of disgust to her voice at the thought of the place. “We have heard there may be some mutant activity in the area, as well as some of those…disgusting mirelurks. As for its accessibility, we have seen at least a few people enter and exit the facility, but I suspect they are unhelpful to us and are most likely raiders, scum of the earth as it were.”

“We’ll do our best to figure out how to fix your troubles,” Preston assured her. “Thank you for the information.”

“Of course, darlings,” White drawled. “It’s the least we can do, aiding those who are willing to aid us.”

“Sometimes helping people is all you can do,” Nora replied with a small smile. “We all must do our part.”

I’ll make my way back down to Diamond City eventually, but, something about what Missus Abernathy said when we brought back the locket to her family…it’s why I’m looking – fighting for – Shaun.

Nothing means more or is greater than the feeling of reflecting kindness and love back.

“Nora?” Preston gently said, drawing her back from her thoughts. “Is everything alright? I know things were…intense. Back at the satellite station, that is. Do you need a break? We can take one if you need to.”

“I…I don’t know,” She sighed. “But thank you, Preston. I…I don’t know where I’d be without you and the rest of the Minutemen. Let’s keep going. If people need our help…that’s what matters, isn’t it?”

“It is,” Preston agreed, but he then, after a brief hesitation, reassuringly set a hand to her shoulders. “But you don’t have to break your back in two to prove you’re alright. We all need a break, support, from time to time. Whatever you need, Nora…please, know you can come to me.”

Nora managed a smile. “I do, Preston,” She said. “And that means more than I can ever say.”

The Institute
December the 30th, 2287
13:15

“Now, follow me. I imagine you’re all excited about your upcoming project, but we have a lesson about Coursers today.”

Snickering with her twin sister, Alice Thompson walked a little faster to catch up to Quentin Filmore, and tugged on his long, messy, curly hair from the back. Just as she had hoped, Quentin whipped around to stare at her and Julia, both of them laughing and him setting his hands to his hips, trying to look annoyed. Not wanting to be caught lagging too far behind their classmates, Quentin, Alice, and Julia quickly turned back around to catch up with the other twenty some odd kids in their class. Julia whispered something to her sister about wishing they were in one of the other two second grade classes, though they quickly started laughing when they looked back up and saw Quentin had taped a sticky note with the words ‘kick me, I’m stupid’ to the back of one of their classmates. With a grin, he pressed a finger to his lips to shush them before his face fell upon the twins seeing their father walking by. When they saw him, they waved excitedly and, with a proud smile, Dr. Enrico Thompson waved back. Not wanting to sulk, Quentin hiked his shoulders up to his ears and jammed his hands into his pockets, his mind starting to wander as it usually did when he was trying to focus on schoolwork. He jumped again when Alice elbowed him, only to laugh a little when he saw their teacher and their teacher’s assistant be caught off guard by a synth dog suddenly running past them, shortly followed by several scientists out of the Bioscience Division.

“Looks like some of Dr. Holdren’s pets got out again,” Julia rolled her eyes. “I ask my parents to let us have a real cat and they say no, we don’t have enough hours in the day for a pet right now, but Dr. Holdren gets to play with synth animals all day every day.”

“Sort of, I guess,” Quentin said, scrunching up his face in confusion. “But they still make him do the boring science. You know, poking at plants and sh*t.”

Alice smirked. “Ooo, are you being a risk taker today? Swearing during class and all?”

Quentin pointed at their teacher and teacher’s assistant while the three of them weaved in and out of their either startled, amused, excited, or worried classmates.

“They’re too busy trying to stop us from getting into trouble with those synth dogs,” Quentin said simply. “At least it delays class a little.”

“We’re going to have an exciting class, though,” Julia protested. “We’re going to get to be up super close to some Coursers! Coursers, Quentin, Coursers!”

“Eh,” Quentin shrugged. “They aren’t going to let us see anything interesting. We’re not eighth graders, who actually get to see how Coursers train! I heard one of the girls in eighth grade last year even got to try and fight one! They still treat us like babies. What’s the point?”

“The point is we’re not thirteen and fourteen year olds,” Julia said, furiously shaking her head. “We’re eight year olds! Or, I guess, some of the other kids in our grade are seven. But still! Coursers are way bigger than us!”

“Yeah?” Quentin said with a devious grin. “So are the synth gorillas!”

Julia squeaked when he winked at her and her twin sister and innocently clasped his hands behind his back. Having just about perfectly blended back into the group of their twenty some odd classmates, the three of them followed after their teacher and their teacher’s assistant into the Synth Retention Bureau. It was only then, after about a minute, Alice noticed Quentin had been hiding a small throwing dart in his hands. She pushed herself in front of her sister, knowing how anxious and risk averse Julia was, and resisted the urge to grab Quentin by the shoulders, instead hissing something in his ear about not getting caught with something sharp or able to be thrown. Dr. Ayo is really strict and really mean, that’s what daddy said. Quentin could get into trouble if someone sees him with that thing! He can be kind of annoying sometimes, and mean to Julia, but – Alice let out a sigh of relief when she saw Quentin seemingly drop the dart into his pocket and turn to take a look around them. She couldn’t help but do the same. The SRB was much different than the rest of the Institute, filled to the brim with not only video monitors and computer terminals but psychologists, psychiatrists, and, as their teacher had warned them, Coursers. Something about being so close to some of the most adept synths in the Institute was exciting, but knowing they often went to the surface and would have to know how to handle it was overwhelming.

I’m not scared of the surface. It’s different, but daddy said it is an interesting place and people can be safe up there if they have the right resources or are in the right place. Still…it probably isn’t as nice as living down here.

“Class, this is Dr. Justin Ayo. As some of you may know, he…”

Alice tried to listen but quickly found she couldn’t when she noticed Quentin slowly walking backwards and pulling the dart out of his pocket again. For half a second, she started to move to grab him by the wrist and pull him back but stopped when she saw two Coursers begin to walk into the space she would have needed to do so. In a matter of seconds, she heard the doors into the SRB open again, but all she saw was someone in a blue Institute Advanced Systems lab coat enter the Division before she jumped back and screamed. Suddenly, and with a confident smirk, Quentin slid into the small gap in between the two Coursers and discreetly jabbed one of them in the side with his dart before quickly doing the same to the other. He began to laugh when his class, their teacher, their teacher’s assistant, and Dr. Ayo all turned to look at him, but the few seconds of levity and amusem*nt were overshadowed by the Courser he had jabbed first whipping around and kicking the boy in the stomach, knocking him, winded, to the floor. Quentin let out a shocked cry of pain but got back on his feet. Clutching onto the dart, he tried to jab both of the Coursers now charging at him but dropped it. Shouts and the sound of movement all around him, Quentin just barely managed to roll out of the way of one of the Coursers, panting and shaking on the floor.

It all happened in less than a minute. As he struggled to get off the floor again, the Courser he had jabbed first snatched him up by his hair, painfully tugging at him and moving to throw him into the wall. Quentin squeezed his eyes shut, terror overtaking him, and he began shaking when he heard a voice he was pretty sure to be Dr. Ayo’s attempting to use the recall codes on both Coursers over the din of the noise. Thrown into the corner of one of the walls where the hallway into the SRB branched off into its concourse, Quentin screamed when he opened his eyes and saw one of the Coursers still pushing towards him, shoving several of his classmates and just as many SRB scientists aside. Panicking and barely able to hear himself, Quentin tried to get out of the way but tripped. The Courser moved to grab him by the neck, and the eight year old screamed, terrified he was about to die, only to suddenly feel arms grab him. The Courser suddenly left his sight and all he saw was the back of whomever it was who had run in front of the Courser and thrown their arms behind themselves in an attempt to protect him. Suddenly, the shouting began to subside and he heard the repeated call of Dr. Ayo repeating the recall codes, one after the other until the Coursers ceased all activity. Then, the noise abated entirely.

Quentin, shaking badly and not even realising it himself, began to cry, whimpering. Noise began again, with the first being the voices of his teacher and teacher’s assistant calming the class down, followed by Dr. Ayo telling several of the scientists to take the now limp and recalled Coursers away and to retrieve the small object on the ground he had (correctly) deduced provoked them. He then paged Bioscience's medical subdivision to bring aid for the several young students and the scientists who had been caught up in the chaos. The next thing he heard was a voice he recognised innately snapping at Dr. Secord to wait to say whatever she had to say to him and other high ranking Institute scientists, and to take up her issues with Dr. Li, whom he had come in the stead of. This man who had spoken then turned around and let go of the young boy for a second before suddenly tightly embracing him. When Quentin looked up, he saw it was his father, and he began to cry, clutching onto him the way he had when he was a baby and toddler.

“Quentin, what are we…” Nathan sighed, trying to comfort his shaking son while he too shook. “Don’t scare me like that again.”

Railroad Headquarters
January the 1st, 2288
17:26

“I heard back from Stockton,” Desdemona said, lighting a cig. “It’s bad news. From all he could ascertain, Conrad Kellogg is, in fact, an Institute operative. They’re good, I’ll give them that…but not knowing they had such a dangerous operative acting in the same area as us for at least a few years is frightening. I think it’s a safe bet to say this might be the man responsible for interfering in and tanking a few operations these past few years, some of which we had thought were unrelated.”

Glory swore under her breath, crushing a can of purified water she had finished drinking in the palms of her hands. Tom pulled up all of the contraptions from his headgear, and looked up and away from what he had been working on at his computer terminal. Deacon dropped the box he had been carrying which, thankfully, only held a smorgasbord of wigs and clothes he and some of the other operatives wore in the field. Carrington let out a tired and exasperated sigh, finishing the filing away of new or newly cleaned and disinfected medical supplies and equipment, and then called PAM into the main room of the organisation’s underground headquarters from where she almost exclusively worked in the mainframe room. Hadley, sat near where Glory stood, was fidgeting between her glasses, wedding ring, and Pip-Boy, trying not to dwell too much on the implications of the news. Hearing it from the father of the missing girl had been bad enough the first time. For them all to now be damn near certain his daughter had been taken not only by the Institute but by one of their most skilled and dangerous operatives was worse. Yet, though she was adept at hiding it, the news shook Glory the most, something in her sure she had crossed paths with the man despite everything else she had seen, heard, and known telling her she could swear up and down that this man was a true stranger.

What did they do to me in the Institute? What was I to them? Was I a Courser? Was this man a part of me feeling I had to leave the Institute? Is it possible I once worked with him? Or for him?

“PAM,” Carrington said, stepping over to the modified assaultron. “I presume you have already adjusted your probability matrices to align with this development?”

“All probability matrices are up to date,” PAM confirmed. “New variable established as an operative for the Institute. Name of variable: Conrad Kellogg. Information received suggests variable being active in the immediate area of Randolph Safehouse. Probability of discovery by Institute has increased by 56%. Recommendation…terminate operations in vicinity of variable’s activity.”

“Does this mean Randolph Safehouse is officially compromised?” Tom said, walking over to one of the blackboards, ready to strike out the safehouse with a line through it with chalk. “PAM?”

“Randolph Safehouse is intact as of today, the first of January, year 2288. Probability of discovery by Institute is still high. Safest course of action would be to terminate operations to prevent detection.”

“Thank you, PAM,” Desdemona said, taking a draw on her cig and glancing to Tom. “We aren’t going to terminate Randolph quite yet. I’m still surprised they weren’t another casualty of the Switchboard disaster, but they have been dark for too long. As Hadley has noted, we haven’t run any synth rescue operations out of there in a few months. We’ve been trying to discern if what happened with the girl being taken there was because of the Institute…and, now, we know it was.”

Tom set down the chalk. “What did Stockton have to say about this Kellogg guy? Other than being with the Institute and being responsible for a girl going missing?”

“Well, firstly, he made the same observation we have, which is the Institute has not replaced the girl who was taken,” Desdemona said with a slight frown. “But he also said, as we’ve heard before, the girl’s father and a few people in the town claim to have spoken with her since then.”

“It doesn’t make sense,” Hadley shook her head. “If it is true, then the Institute is letting her come home from time to time but always has her come back, which leaves us with only two possibilities – she comes and goes willingly, or they did take her and are keeping her on a short leash to manipulate the town.”

“Stockton said Kellogg nearly killed people and threatened them half to death before the girl eventually went to the Institute,” Desdemona took a long draw on her cig, her hands shaking a little. “He said the girl eventually went after speaking to an Institute scientist, if her father’s recount is correct, but we can’t trust it as fact. He’s a grieving parent, as any would be, and we can’t take such major risks on a hunch.”

“You and the rest of them may not be able to,” Deacon said, taking off his sunglasses to clean the lenses off on his shirt. “But I can. It’s my whole f*cking job, isn’t it?”

“Deacon –” Glory tiredly began.

“I’m not talking about doing anything with Randolph, don’t worry,” He said, putting his hands up in surrender after he put his sunglasses back on his face. “I was talking about the other thing we’ve been worried about with the Institute. You know, the creepy town Stockton is sure killed his caravan?”

Desdemona and Carrington turned to each other, surprised, before turning back to Deacon.

“Have you learnt anything new about that situation?” Carrington asked sharply. “If I recall, Stockton has a trusted caravan guard attempting to see what they did with the synth girl he adopted.”

“Yep,” Deacon confirmed grimly. “I’ve only learnt a little bit more, but it seems just about certain this town is trying come up with a foolproof way to identify synths. The purpose still isn’t clear. All things considered, I don’t think it’s too far fetched to believe the Institute could have an entire damn town to manipulate the Commonwealth with and make things easier for their Coursers.”

Hadley eyed him strangely. “What are you thinking, Deacon? Are you suggesting you start an operation in there to see if the town is connected to the Institute?”

“That’s exactly what I’m suggesting,” Deacon said, rolling his eyes when everyone turned to him. “What? It is my job, after all. Why not? If we’re reducing or stepping away from Randolph Safehouse – which isn't even one of my jobs – I can take up the task, can’t I?”

Desdemona hesitated. “While I know it will be controversial,” She finally began. “We probably don’t have a choice, now, but to put Randolph under quarantine. We’ll communicate with them solely through dead drop. Glory, can that be done?”

She nodded. “Absolutely. I’ll let High Rise know about the change.”

“But are we really going to send Deacon on a long term operation?” Carrington turned to Desdemona. “How would we even maintain communication with him?”

“We can use my MILAs to keep an eye on the town!” Tom eagerly put in. “I did what Des said, and put the low tech, pre-War surveillance gear on them.”

“And, with Stockton’s trusted man already in the town, he and Deacon can communicate with us through either dead drop or scheduled meetings with a Heavy or tourist,” Desdemona paused, taking one last draw before stubbing out her cig. “We’ve trusted Deacon’s instincts before, Stanley. It’s part of how we found this place after the Switchboard.”

“For what it’s worth, if anyone could pull off an infiltration of a potential Institute operation, it would be Deacon,” Glory said, sharing a knowing look with Hadley. “And it’ll make sure, even with Randolph on ice, we can keep on top of the Institute as much as is possible.”

“We do have to be careful. Even if we don't cut them out, Randolph could…it could be an Institute trap, so we will have to play it safe and slow. If we can help them out and buy time to verify they really are our people, of course we will, and, all things weighed...” Desdemona said melancholically. “You’re right, Glory, we have to try to remain as many steps ahead of the Institute as possible and Deacon....”

“So…what’s the plan?” Tom pressed. “Do my MILAs and Deacon go out into the field or not?”

“Desdemona,” Carrington said with a short nod. “It’s your call.”

Silence.

“PAM, prepare whatever information you can about the town in question to prepare Deacon,” She finally said. “Deacon…what’s your briefing?”

“I’ll be going to the town called Covenant, meeting up with Stockton’s friend and colleague codenamed ‘Honest Dan,’” Deacon promptly said, coming up to and shaking her hand. “I’ll present myself to the town as Brian after Dan and I take a short preparation. And Des?” He squeezed her hand before letting it go. “I promise, I won’t let you down. I owe it to Sam…and I owe it to you.”

Diamond City
January the 3rd, 2288
13:11

“Hey, Danny,” Piper snickered as the Diamond City Security Officer came over to where she was sitting, eating noodles. “You still mad at me for making you let me back in? Did Myrna –”

“Piper, listen, I…” Danny uncomfortably shifted, grimacing when the woman suddenly lost all humour in her countenance. “I hate to do this, but I don’t have a choice. Arms up where we can see them. You’re under arrest.”

Her hands shaking, Piper set down her (mostly finished) noodles. She swallowed hard, and then started madly waving for her sister to come over. Much to her relief, Nat ran over the second she saw her sister looking scared, something she so rarely did. Though a few of the guards tried to push her back, Nat wrapped herself around her big sister, and scowled at all of them, silently willing them to stop and go away. They didn’t. A guard stepped forward to try and pry her off her sister. Nat screamed, and the people who had otherwise been going about their day paused to see what was going on. Piper snapped at the guards not to lay a hand to her sister, but they did so anyways, and two of the security officers eventually pried Nat off of her. By then, more people had begun to take an interest in the situation, with Nat shouting at the security officers, insisting they couldn’t arrest her sister. One of the officers, fed up, tried to forcibly push her to the side but was suddenly stopped by the firm hand of Vadim Bobrov, who had been taking a break from his bartending duties to pick up some meat from Polly. The guards let go of Nat, and Vadim offered her his hand which she clutched onto, still screaming at the guards to let her sister go. Danny tried to hush her but instead got snapped at by the thirteen year old, calling him a traitor when he put the handcuffs around Piper’s wrists.

Letting out a brief cry of pain when another guard tightened the cuffs around her wrists, Piper gritted her teeth, trying not to let them see how much the way the cuffs were digging into her wrists hurt. She swallowed hard when she saw her sister resisting the urge to cry, and felt her stomach sink when Nat suddenly turned around, still holding onto Vadim, to flip off the mayor, who had come down from his office in the upper stands to see what the commotion was about. When she met his cold gaze, Piper scowled at the man, only to be surprised to see him stop short in his tracks upon Cait, whom herself had just come into the city and was finishing off a cigarette, breaking into a sprint to try get to where Piper and the crowd watching were in the centre of one of Diamond City's large market squares. Much to Piper’s surprise, Cait did not start a fight with the security officers, and instead came over to Nat and embraced her, awkwardly stroking her hair in an almost motherly attempt to soothe her. Vadim, however, squared his shoulders, prepared to fight if he felt the need arose. Several of the people in the crowd of onlookers began chattering among themselves, gossiping more than anything else, and even the usually high out of his mind Solomon seemed to be interested in what was happening. Seeing the heated, unwavering scowl Piper held towards the mayor, whom himself was leisurely walking towards her, several of the guards held her arms in full restraint, with Danny being the only one who seemed to be uncomfortable with it.

“That’s enough, nothing to see here, everyone,” McDonough said, waving a dismissive hand when he was within no more than a few feet away from Piper. “We’ve all seen this one resist arrest before.”

“Because you trying to lock me out of the city where I live isn’t enough for you, is it?” Piper snapped, seething. “Why are you even doing this, McDonough? What the f*ck have I done this time?”

“You and I both know the answer to that, Piper,” McDonough said coldly. “Your paper has been stoking enough fear around here since you published that ridiculous article. It’s gotten out of hand.”

“Right, so the best way to prove your sorry arse isn’t with the Institute is to arrest the one lass willing to talk sh*te about you?” Cait rolled her eyes. “Not really sure where you’re getting the logic for this from. If you were going to arrest her, why didn’t you do it right away?”

“What’s going on here?” A new voice said, weaving through the crowd to get to them to reveal a teenage boy with messy dark curls in a lab coat. “Mayor McDonough, what’s –”

“Nothing more than what should have been a simple arrest,” McDonough told him. “Unfortunately, Piper has chosen to make this unnecessarily difficult for everyone.”

“I don’t think Piper is the one being difficult,” Vadim said mildly. “Cait is right. If you’re still pissed about ‘The Synthetic Truth,’ then why wait until now?”

“The suspicion and baseless rumours are getting out of hand,” McDonough said curtly. “Piper cannot keep going around spreading these accusations without consequence.”

“Are you out of your mind?” The teenager in the lab coat exclaimed. “All she’s done wrong is write an article and let people make up their minds!”

“That’s enough out of you, Emmett! Go back to the Science! Centre with Scara and do whatever it is you science geniuses do!” McDonough snapped. “Or do I have to request your parents –”

“Because they would be so happy to hear you talk to their son that way,” Piper taunted. “Keep talking McDonough, it’s all you're good for.”

“Yeah!” Nat agreed, pumping her fist in the air and glaring at McDonough. “Let her go you son of a –”

“Are you seriously going to throw her in prison over an article?” Emmett gaped at the mayor in disbelief. “Mayor McDonough –”

“I will not say it again, Emmett Branson,” McDonough said, raising a hand to silence the teenager. “Why don’t you go back to your books and experiments, schoolboy? Wouldn’t that be fun?” He turned to Danny. “Take her away, Sullivan. As for the rest of you, make sure the rest of them don’t cause any trouble.”

“You know something, McDonough?” Cait said, releasing Nat to cross her arms in defiance. “There’s a real special place in hell for people like you.”

“Enough!” McDonough brushed his hands off, watching Piper be taken away and the guards hold the others back. Then, he turned to the crowd of people who had been watching, climbed up the steps of the Super Salon to be facing all of them, and shook his head. “Everybody? Everybody! I need everyone’s attention.”

The crowd fell silent, and everyone turned to him expectantly.

“I would like to address the subject that is on everyone’s mind, and that is the disgusting article Piper has written,” McDonough said, unable to hide his irritation. “Diamond City has stood united for over one hundred and fifty years, and what keeps us united are two things. First is the great, green guardian protecting us. The Wall. Our protector and our saviour from the filth of the outside. And, second, is our faith and trust in each other. The faith and trust that has given us prosperity, security, and education for every citizen.”

“What a lying piece of sh*te,” Cait muttered to Vadim. “More he talks like this, more I’m inclined to believe the bastard is working for the Institute as a spy, to hell with whether or not he’s a synth.”

“And while the paper,” McDonough continued, confidence growing in his voice. “Might point fingers at synths and other ghost stories to drive us apart, we will not betray this sacred trust.”

“Yeah, trust,” Nat snorted. “You didn’t even let Danny read Piper her rights, never mind that she’s had them read to her like a hundred times before.”

“Now, I want everyone to hear these next words very carefully,” McDonough cast a dark look towards Nat, Cait, Vadim, and Emmett before turning back to the others with almost glib self assurance. “I am not a synth. I am the same flesh and blood boy who grew up on these streets, who was born in a shack just down the waterfront to Martha and Patrick McDonough, their first child and first son. And I will not abandon this city due to the heinous allegations of the press!”

“Oh, f*ck you,” Cait rolled her eyes and shared a knowing look with Vadim. “How long do you reckon he’s going to keep Piper locked up? I mean –”

“God bless this city!” McDonough declared, smiling smugly when the crowd overwhelmingly cheered. “God bless the Wall!”

“Ugh,” Vadim grimaced when McDonough stepped down and began to shake hands with people. “You are right, Cait. He’s so full of sh*t.”

Cambridge Police Station
January the 7th, 2288
18:24

A month. He had the reply from Elder Maxson for over a month, yet he could not seem to stop going through it to confirm he understood everything.

It was official. The Prydwen would arrive in the Commonwealth by the end of 2288, but could arrive sooner if the Brotherhood’s preparations were able to be completed ahead of schedule. Knowing that made the Paladin smile, well aware of the drive and dedication of his Brothers and Sisters back in the Capital Wasteland. Having a direct and thorough response from the Elder, too, gave him hope. Briefly pausing from preparing for his fifth thorough analysis of the formal response, the Paladin allowed himself a moment to reminisce on what had brought him to the Commonwealth. It had been not only duty or orders, but his own request after discussion with Maxson in one of their less formal conversations. The Paladin found himself smiling again. We’ve known each other for the last six years. Strange to think, when we formally met, he was fourteen and I only eighteen. I couldn’t be more proud to have worked side by side with Arthur before he became the Elder. After years of ineffective leadership, in the last year alone, even with the previous four into his Eldership aside, he has truly revived and brought the Brotherhood back together to what we should be. It is an incredible feat. Standing up from the computer terminal to stretch himself out, the Paladin took a look out the window from the second floor of the old police station, as he had found himself doing often, and a bit of pride for what he and his soldiers had accomplished so far began to swell in his chest.

“Reconnaissance Team 429-Alpha, codenamed Artemis, have been silent for far too long,” Danse had shaken his head. “I fear the worst. It’s unlike them, and especially Paladin Brandis.”

“It is massively concerning. Our previous squad was massively successful just six years ago,” Arthur had said, starting to pace. “Yes, it was before I became Elder, but I have read up on all of their reports. This should have been a routine mission, yet it seems to have become anything but.”

“How could something like this happen?” Karissa had frowned. “I sincerely hope Brandis and his team haven’t taken absence without leave.”

“I agree, Missus Maxson,” Danse had agreed. “Brandis, Varham, Astlin, and Faris going AWOL would be not only a disappointing loss but completely out of character and dangerous. I do, however, have a proposal for how to solve this dilemma.”

“Please tell,” Arthur had said, turning towards him. “We cannot afford to have such a security risk when we’re preparing to enter the Commonwealth in full force within the next year.”

“I have a list of several soldiers under my command of whom I am certain would be willing to investigate the Commonwealth and this incident ahead of the rest of the Brotherhood,” Danse had replied. “While, yes, we’re already well into 2287, I believe I could assemble my own reconnaissance operation to arrive in the Commonwealth by November at the latest.”

Arthur had hesitated. “I have full faith in you and your abilities, Danse,” He had finally said. “I have for a long time, and you have more than proven it. More so, I have seen the loyalty to you and the Brotherhood your soldiers feel. If you can write a full proposal and get the signatures of those you will be bringing with, then I will authorise this without question.”

“Thank you, Elder,” Danse had said with a bow. “I greatly appreciate the support.”

“You don’t need the formality, we are not in formal public,” Arthur had shaken his head. “I value your input, Danse, yes, but I just as much value your friendship.”

Danse had smiled. “I value the same, Arthur.”

A bomb going off in the distance, followed by the sounds of gunfire, drew the Paladin back from his thoughts. He stepped closer to the window to take a cursory look at what was happening outside, and breathed a sigh of relief when he saw the perimeter and the police station itself were still more than secure. There would be more work to be done soon, but it did not have to happen imminently.

He sat down again at the computer terminal and returned back to the massive reply and all of the information attached with it. Among them were, as requested, files about former Brotherhood members that were either known to be or most likely to be in the Commonwealth. There were several Maxson had noted of being particularly major, people they would absolutely want to bring back into the Brotherhood before launching the war against the Institute. Skimming through, Danse paused every so often and waited for the information to load. Thousands. There were thousands of pages of information sent to him by Maxson and Lancer Captain Kells, but his eyes focused first on a name he recognised, a man he had met only a handful of times but one he recalled well.

Branson, Derek Johnathan – Registration BR-109KC

Date Of Birth – April the 10th, 2235

Derek Branson attained the rank of Knight Captain in 2279 by Elder Owyn Lyons shortly before Elder Lyons' death in January of 2280. This promotion was granted after consideration of Branson’s contributions and service to the Brotherhood since May of 2255 when he joined as an Initiate. Chief among these contributions was Branson’s fearless service in the war against the Enclave, up to and including during the final battle where the Brotherhood not only defeated the Enclave but reclaimed the water purifier for the sake of providing free, clean water to everyone in the area of former Maryland, DC, and Virginia. In June of 2282, Branson was blatantly insubordinate to the Paladin he was under command of by refusing to carry out the execution of a group of cult members from the Church Of The Children Of Atom in the town of Megaton, who were refusing to let the Brotherhood remove the nuclear bomb they worshipped. The nuclear bomb had been disarmed since mid-2277, but the Brotherhood required the bomb for analysis. The Children Of Atom interfered in that mission. Branson refused to carry out the execution on the grounds of the Children Of Atom protesting and worshipping peacefully. The Elder permitted Branson to resign from the Brotherhood rather than be dishonourably discharged for this offence, and, out of respect for his years of service, he and his family were brought directly to Diamond City in the Commonwealth with all of their possessions, which were quite substantial. This prior insubordination aside, Branson would be an asset if brought back to the Brotherhood.

Writing a note to himself to keep an eye out for BR-109KC, Danse continued to go through the files, quickly finding, much to his surprise, a file on whom he quickly decided would be one of the most important people for the Brotherhood to bring back into the fold.

Li, Dr. Madison Brianne – Registration LI-119K

Date Of Birth – July the 21st, 2229

Dr. Madison Li was given the honorary rank of Knight for her work on Project Purity and Liberty Prime by Elder Owyn Lyons in 2277. Liberty Prime could not have been restored without the aid of Dr. Li, as she solved the issues with Prime’s power source and consumption. Dr. Li’s work on portable fusion power was integral to this, and her work also led to the activation of the water purifier by Sentinel Sarah Jeannette Lyons, who gave her life to do so and ensure the safety of all in the immediate aftermath of the Enclave’s defeat. To bring Dr. Li back to the Brotherhood would not only be a major asset but would allow for the restoration of Liberty Prime for the war against the Institute. Dr. Li was the only person who was able to understand the numerous information memorandums and manuals left by the United States Military. This included information she deciphered from what the Brotherhood had retrieved from the former Pentagon, where the United States Of America had headquartered many of their military operations. The Pentagon has been a Brotherhood stronghold since the War in 2077 and has been renamed as the Citadel. Dr. Li was also incredibly valuable in directing the resources and necessary personnel to ensure the Brotherhood could carry out our mission in defeating the Enclave. Elder Owyn Lyons permitted Dr. Li to leave the Brotherhood in late 2279, after which she left for the Commonwealth. There has been no contact by anyone in the Brotherhood with Dr. Li since. Dr. Li’s whereabouts in the Commonwealth are currently unknown, but locating her is important to the Brotherhood’s mission, and great care should be taken, when she is located, to persuade her to rejoin.

“I’ll have a Scribe send out a notice to Haylen and Rhys to keep a look out for Dr. Li,” Danse smiled. “She could be the key to a strong, quick defeat of the Institute. We just need to find her first.”

Chapter 7: Something Borrowed

Chapter Text

Covenant
January the 9th, 2288
11:26

Getting past the gates had been surprisingly easy, if tedious and annoying. All it had given him was reaffirming the town was, in fact, trying to determine whether or not they could let people in based on how they responded.

What amused him was, even though he had attempted to see if he could trick their test into thinking he was a synth, he apparently passed with ‘flying colours’ according to the man at the gate.

A seasoned liar, he knew the man at the gate had been telling the truth. Stretching himself out as he walked, Deacon pulled his sunglasses out from where he had tucked them into his shirt. Flourishing them out before sliding them onto his face, Deacon began to shake out his (falsely) long, blonde hair. It was always enjoyable to have long hair, if only because he enjoyed (occasionally) smacking people in their faces with it. Sass. It was one of his favourite things, and, considering the grim subjects they had discussed, it was one of the few things to lighten the mood for him when he and Dan had returned from slipping out to see the remains of Stockton’s caravan. The last of it had just about completely decayed, and something about standing in front of where a group of innocent people were slaughtered and one of them kidnapped had left him with a rage he hadn’t felt in a long time, rage he hadn’t felt since he had turned his back on his fellow gang members. Sass was the only thing standing between him and abject horror and rage towards the people in the town, the permanent residents of the town, and, in particular, the mayor, who deflected every question, even the ones that should have been simple and easy to answer.

“Brian, these are Janet Haylen and Laurent Rhys” Dan said, raking his hands through his hair. “Brian’s working with me, trying to figure out what the hell is going on here.”

“Lovely to meet you,” Haylen said, reaching over to shake his hand. “I had thought there weren’t any other people particularly interested in a town like this.”

“More so curious about what goes on within a town like this,” Deacon said with a flip of ‘his’ long blonde hair. “I take it you are too?”

“Very much so,” Rhys agreed, passing something to Haylen behind his back. “I see you’re one of Dan’s…colleagues?”

“Sure,” Deacon said with a shrug. “How’d you get roped into this?”

Rhys bristled. “We’re simply looking after mutual interests. If it weren’t for that, we wouldn’t be having this conversation.”

“I am curious,” Haylen put in, sending Rhys a pointed look. “We’ve barely uncovered a thing in the time we’ve been here, although, admittedly, it’s only been just over three weeks. Do you have any leads?”

“Depends on what you’re here for,” A woman’s voice said, and they all turned to see where she was standing, leaning against a building, smoking a cigarette. “I may have a few.”

Dan frowned. “I don’t appreciate the eavesdropping, or the attitude.”

“Would you prefer a more proper introduction?” The woman sighed, tapping excess ash off her cigarette and slipping a pair of thin red reading glasses out from tucked into her coat and onto her face. “Or, considering you’re a caravan master working out of Bunker Hill for,” She pulled out a notepad from her pocket and flipped through a few pages. “A Mister Jacob Stockton, would you –”

“How do you –” Dan warily began, unable to hide his discomfort.

“I listen, something you might want to do more of,” The woman said, slipping her notepad back into her pocket and taking a draw on her cigarette. “You don’t learn a damn thing by asking questions or investigating alone. Although, if this is what you call investigating, you’re doing a piss poor job at it.”

Rhys stared at her in disgust. “Do you have any manners?”

“I do,” The woman icily replied. “But I usually reserve them for people who deserve to be shown genuine respect. I don’t have time for pretence.”

“And I don’t have time for someone muddying the waters when people are dead for no good reason,” Dan said, matching her tone perfectly. “I’m here because I am trying to find out what happened to innocent people who didn’t deserve to die, and because I need to find the one person who did walk out of the whole damn thing alive.”

“An honourable enough cause,” The woman said. “The name’s Annette Davis. Tell me – who are we looking for?”

Dan eyed her suspiciously. “You don’t already know?”

“I understand you’re looking for people from Stockton’s caravan, several of whom were brutally murdered,” Annette said. “But you’ve been, reasonably, of course, careful. Letting too many people know exactly who’s been taken versus who’s been murdered could easily compromise the case.”

“Quite astute,” Rhys said mildly. “Though your tone is still rather sour.”

“Agreed,” Dan and Annette met each other’s gaze with equal suspicion. “The big one we’re looking for is Stockton’s daughter, Amelia. I didn’t find any bodies of the…feminine persuasion, so there is hope. But there’s also a chance it’s something deeper and, frankly, disturbing.”

Annette glanced between him, ‘Brian,’ Haylen, and Rhys.

“Go on…”

Haylen sighed. “We believe it’s possible there is a connexion to the Institute.”

“The Institute?” Annette frowned. “I haven’t heard that one before.”

“You don’t know about the Institute?” Dan dubiously probed. “You must be new around here.”

“As it happens, I am,” Annette said sharply. “I’ve followed leads from where I am from in the Capital Wasteland to here, but I have never been in the Commonwealth before nor am I familiar with it.”

“You’re from the Capital Wasteland?” Rhys eyed her, fascination entering his voice. “What could have possibly drawn you from there to here?”

“If you must know, I am following a lead connecting a few towns in the Commonwealth, this one included, to the Vault I grew up in,” Annette said, a hint of upset briefly crossing her face. “I had no choice but to leave it when I was nineteen, in search of my father, who had been nearly killed by the man who was Overseer at the time. My…my father’s best friend – Jonas – who, frankly, was a second father figure to me, did not make it out alive. About two years later, I returned after my...girlfriend had become Overseer and opened up the Vault for trading. It was the only home I ever knew, and I was scared of what was out there after what I witnessed. However...I left about a year ago, and have been investigating the Commonwealth's potential connexions to the Vault ever since.”

“Damn…” Deacon let out a low whistle. “That’s…disturbing.”

Annette snorted, taking another draw on her cigarette.

“Brian, isn’t it?” She waited for Deacon to nod. “Disturbing is an understatement, but, if it were that alone, I wouldn’t be here in pursuit of answers about something that happened a decade ago.”

“Why are you here, then?” Dan eyed her closely, crossing his arms. “And why are you – from what it seems – profiling me?”

“You have your secrets, and I have mine,” Annette said. “As for your other question, I think we might be looking for the same thing. Not necessarily specifically, but the answer as to why things here are done the way they are, by whom they are done, and to what end. Now…tell me about this Institute?”

“Everyone in the Commonwealth is afraid of the Institute, and their synths,” Dan said grimly. “Synths are, to be clear, synthetic people made by the Institute. Real advanced machines, might as well be human because no one can tell the difference between them and us. As I said, everyone in the Commonwealth is terrified of them but, come to mention it…I’ve been here a long while, and nobody’s even breathed a word about them. Only reference we’ve seen in this whole damn town to the Institute is this – seems like their little ‘test’ is designed to try and identify synths. To what end…who knows.”

Annette took the folded up piece of paper from him, and shook it out, her eyebrows raising as she read down the list.

“And this…Railroad?”

“Most likely an urban legend about people who rescue synths from the Institute,” Dan said. “As for why they go to great lengths to not talk on the Institute or synths here but have this test…we’re not sure.”

“They may be part of the Institute,” Haylen said. “But it seems the only people who knows about this test’s purpose and keeps track of it are its administrator at the gate and the mayor.”

Diamond City
January the 13th, 2288
2:22

“You know something? Vandalism sounds like it’s f*cking deserved right about now.”

Cait took another round of shots, and flopped forward on the bar, briefly closing her eyes. Between attempting to bribe the rotation of prison guards and nearly getting arrested herself, she was not only exhausted but furious. Even winning fifteen fights back to back (with a more than unhealthy dose of psycho) against variously mad, aggressive, violent raiders hadn’t made her feel any better. At most, all it did was release some of the anger she felt towards the arrest of one of her few friends. Her fingers beating up and down against the counter of the bar, Cait tried to shove down her feelings as far down as she could, though she knew it was making her antsy for another fight. The bar was lively enough for nearly (she reckoned) three in the morning, but not lively enough for there to be a good or interesting fight to be had. Most of the annoying patrons, so far as she was concerned, were kept to themselves in one corner of the bar, drunkenly singing as a barbershop quartet and surprisingly on key. Yefim was cleaning, as was Scarlett in between her taking orders for food and drink, and Vadim was humming to himself in a language she didn’t understand while he wiped down the bar as people around her came and went. Forcing herself to sit up, she handed the shot glasses back to Vadim, who awkwardly and sympathetically patted the top of her head with one hand and took the shot glasses away for cleaning with the others she had already downed.

“How’s work?” Vadim set the shot glasses into the sink before he pushed a bottle of moonshine towards her. “Any good fights coming up?”

“Good fights are coming up if you’re interested in a show,” Cait said with a devious smirk. “Tommy tried to introduce scenery into the matches at the Combat Zone. Took about five minutes before we started using them for weapons. I should ask him to make a wood cutout of McDonough. I’d love to break his head over a raider.”

“I would take a video,” Vadim grinned and pulled a camera out from under the bar. “I found and repaired one of these pre-War toys. You can even watch them back on a bigger screen if you can figure out how to connect one of these to a computer terminal.”

“You and your technology pet projects never cease to amaze me,” Cait laughed. “You know those old cinemas? If you get a video of me breaking a McDonough cutout over the head of a raider, do you think you could play it for all ‘em here in the city?”

“Maybe, lapochka,” Vadim shrugged. “But I don’t know. It was already very frustrating to figure out how to repair.”

Cait shrugged, taking a swig of the moonshine. “You know,” She joked. “One of these days, I’ll beat your record for shots. I’ll best your record, just you wait.”

“From what I hear, you could do it. Let us know when you take on the challenge, because I sure as hell will bet on you.”

Cait turned around only to cheer when she saw the man who had spoken was Zeke, accompanied by Rowdy and the rest of his gang. Vadim cheered too, and started clapping, whereas Yefim and Scarlett shared a knowing look, the last time the Cats had trashed the bar still a little too fresh in their minds.

“Zeke,” Cait smirked. “Where’ve you been all me life, handsome?”

“You know where,” Zeke replied with wink. “You’ve made your way down to our turf before. You’re always welcome. You might as well be an honourary Cat.”

“Damn right she is,” Rowdy said, elbowing him before hopping onto one of the barstools beside Cait. “Is seeing all of us as magical as the last time you got to hang with the gang all together?”

“Well, it’s always a trip to see you and your gang, Rowdy,” Cait teased. “There’s nothing quite like the smell of power armour grease and testosterone.”

“We’re a hell of a lot stronger than just that,” Duke rolled his eyes. “Are you forgetting how I took down some gunners and a deathclaw in the same fight?”

“I do, don’t you worry,” Cait said, playfully socking him in the arm. “Watching you slug it out with that damn beast was impressive. Too bad me money was on the deathclaw.”

“You want in on a secret?” Roxy whispered, taking up the barstool on the other side of Cait from Rowdy. “Our money was on the deathclaw too. Thankfully, all the son of a bitch did was tear up Dukie’s power armour – something we know how to fix right up in a jiffy.”

“Your idioms are always the funniest,” Vadim chuckled, pouring shots for the rest of the Atom Cats who were now coming up to the bar as well. “It’s as though you live in a pre-War movie! Reminds me of some of the old ones Yefim and I saw as children, from a century before the War, actually.”

“Yeah, all those disc things definitely can keep you motivated,” Johnny said, tossing some caps to Vadim for a beer. “Some of ‘em have even inspired some of my power armour designs. I could talk your ear off until the sun comes up…or goes down, depending on the time.”

“Speaking of talking people’s ears off,” Roxy said, pausing to clink her shot glass against Rowdy’s and then down the shot. “Where’s the journalist lady?”

“Ain’t she usually down here a few times a week?” Zeke frowned. “She being a square tonight?”

Cait snorted. “I wish,” She said. “She’s back in the Piper suite.”

Rowdy sighed. “They still calling the slammer here that? Damn, I don’t envy her.”

“Blame the mayor,” Vadim told her, rolling his shoulders back as though he were getting ready for a brawl. “He had her arrested over an article.”

“sh*t, man,” Bluejay let out a low whistle. “That ain’t cool of him.”

“I feel most bad for Nicky Valentine’s secretary,” Vadim shook his head. “You know, the detective? He’s been missing a while and his secretary has been inconsolable since Piper’s arrest. She already was struggling to find Nicky, even with new information from me and a few others, and now feels it’s hopeless without Piper’s help.”

“That’s terrible,” Roxy pulled out a bag of caps and pushed it over the counter towards Vadim. “Think a hundred caps will help get her out?”

“No,” Vadim pushed the bag back to her. “I already tried. They want to keep her there for a while. I even offered them some free chems, but they said no. They almost arrested Cait when she tried!”

“Those blokes have it coming, wouldn’t even budge for Piper’s f*cking family,” Cait muttered. “Just wait until she finds out what’s happened to her daughter in law while she and her husband have been away.”

Vadim snickered. “She will tear them a new one.”

“Well, we won’t be leaving without giving it a try too,” Zeke said, high fiving Cait when she perked up with a faint smirk dawning on her face. “f*ck all these guys, all she did was write an article calling the mayor a synth. Man’s a real piece of sh*t, not being able to take being made fun of or criticised.”

“True,” Rowdy said, shaking out her hair. “I mean, how many times have we been called synths? Too damn many to count. It has been good at keeping at least some of those gunner sh*ts at bay. Guess they don’t want to risk f*cking with the Institute to try and get their mitts on our power armour. I swear, gunners are just one small step up from raiders…and I used to be a raider, for f*ck’s sake!”

“If you are synths, tell the Institute to give us the formulas to make more interesting chems,” Cait said with a laugh. “I want to try something to make me smarter, tougher, and more charming at the same time. Maybe I’ll finally be able to scare all the men away from staring at me arse all the time or asking me to shag, if you know what I mean.”

“Hell yeah we do. Damn, though, some guys really are the absolute worst,” Bluejay said, clapping her on the back. “You’re a real one, Cait, don’t you ever go and f*cking change.”

“Reminds me,” Vadim added, laughing himself. “If you talk to the Institute, tell them to teach me how to make new chems. Goodneighbour’s mayor, Hanco*ck, always asks me if I have anything new for him to try. Rumour has it his chem experiments are what turned him ghoul.”

“I will do so immediately, beam me up, Institute,” Rowdy joked, winking. “I have work to do, bitches!”

The Institute
January the 16th, 2288
18:01

It wasn’t particularly late, but, after another day of not having anything he had to do, eight year old Quentin Filmore was exhausted, so much so he even missed having schoolwork.

Things had been strange since the incident with the Coursers. Once an hour, one of his parents would step into the family apartment to see if he were alright, usually his father, who was incredibly awkward about it. Jacq was listening to music in her earbuds while she drew up blueprints in the living room, and he wanted to hang out with her but felt bad every time he distracted her or didn’t understand the things she was talking about. It’s like that one song Jacq likes. What are the words? Something along the lines of ‘it’s me, hi, I’m the problem, it’s me?’ It’s true. I guess that’s me. Too tired to think about much for too long but not tired enough to actually fall asleep, Quentin stared up at the ceiling fan for a few minutes, trying to focus on it and the way it moved. After he could no longer focus on it, he sat up and shook out his hair, still damp from having showered. He stared at his reflexion in the window when he stood up, and shivered a bit, wrapping his arms around himself. The words ‘I’ll stare directly at the sun but never in the mirror’ are also from that song, aren’t they? Jacq said songs talk about feelings. Did the songwriter feel this way too? Hunching his shoulders up to his ears, Quentin finally walked towards the living room where Jacq was, as was becoming routine, typing on her computer terminal with blueprints on the desk beside her. She turned around when she heard footsteps, and pulled out her earbuds, smiling when she saw Quentin. He half smiled and waved, hesitating before stepping into the room. When he did, Jacq saved her work and got up from her computer terminal, and sat down on the rug near the couch, waving him over to sit down next to her, which Quentin eventually did, albeit still holding himself, his hair hanging in front of his eyes.

“Are you alright, Quentin?” Jacq gently poked her adoptive brother in the arm. “You’ve been…really quiet and shy lately.”

“I don’t know,” Quentin said with a morose shrug. “I’m kinda looking forward to when we go back to school next week. I’ve never heard of an entire year going on an impromptu break before.”

“They just want to make sure everyone’s okay,” Jacq said encouragingly. “Things will go back to normal, soon, I promise.”

“But they wouldn’t have to if it weren’t my fault,” Quentin shook his head. “Everyone’s going to hate me when we go back to class.”

“No, they won’t,” Jacq reassured him. “Want to know a secret?”

Quentin perked up slightly. “Sure, I guess.”

“Now people know nothing bad happened, a lot of them think you’re cool,” Jacq said with a wink. “You survived an encounter with Coursers. I overheard Dr. Thompson telling her husband the other day she was worried Alice would want to try something like that because she thought it was cool you survived.”

Quentin laughed a little. “Sometimes Dr. Thompson tells him not to talk about his trips to the surface because she thinks it’ll encourage Alice to try and sneak up to the surface next time he goes up.”

“See?” Jacq teasingly elbowed him. “You did something stupid, but your friends and classmates aren’t going to remember that, they’re going to be glad you got them out of school for a few weeks and some of them, to quote my friends on the surface, are going to think you’re badass.”

“I hope so,” Quentin said with a slight smile but his face suddenly fell. “Jacq?” He said quietly. “Do you think mom and dad are mad at me?”

“Of course not,” Jacq stared at him in shock. “Why?”

“They don’t want me left alone, they get all weird when we try to have dinner as a family,” Quentin sighed. “I…I really screwed up, and I know they already get sh*t because of me sometimes. I’ve made everything bad, haven’t I?”

“You haven’t,” Jacq said, standing up to get him a glass of water. “They’re just worried about you. You’re their kid, and…”

Quentin took the glass from her and started to sip it, pulling his legs up to his chest. Jacq watched him for a few seconds before sitting down next to him again. Neither of them noticed, however, Dr. Nathan Filmore had been just outside the door to the family apartment and heard everything. With a heavy sigh, he opened the door just long enough to see the kids were alright before starting back down the stairs to work. What kind of parents are we? Sure, we were angry, at first, about what he did but we were more scared than anything else. We’re just glad he’s alright, now. Allie and I spent years trying to have a baby before Quentin was born…he can be a difficult child, but we still love him and only want to see him safe and doing well. I always want more time to spend with him, but I just can’t be in two places at once. Is that why? I’ll have to talk to Allie…she’s the one always encouraging me to take a break to spend time with our son anyways. He sighed, scanning back into the Advanced Systems Division, only to be surprised to see Father there, speaking in hushed tones with Allie and Madison. He startled, briefly, when Enrico Thompson tapped his shoulder to tell him Janet had gone to bring Quentin and Jacq a treat. He laughed a little, Janet Thompson being somewhat infamous for her seemingly uncanny ability to know what a person needed whenever they needed it. As it were, Janet had stopped to get a box of macaroons for the Filmore siblings and was humming to herself while she walked up to their residence. Her fingers tapped against the doorbell, and she smiled when Jacq answered the door and let her in.

“Don’t tell your parents I brought you guys these before dinner,” She said, pressing a finger to her lips with a smile. “Keep it a secret?”

“Absolutely,” Jacq said with a fist bump. “You’re great, Dr. Thompson.”

Janet winked. “Tell that to my girls the next time they get mad at me for making them go to sleep at a reasonable hour.”

“Studying?” Jacq said with a smile. “Or something else?”

“Video games,” Janet laughed. “Enrico introduced them to it as a father—daughters bonding activity, and, now, I sometimes have to tell all three of them to go to sleep. You two take care of each other, alright?”

Jacq nodded when the woman began to leave the apartment, waving one last time before shutting the doors behind her. Quentin sighed, and leaned back against the edge of the couch from where he sat on the rug. After a moment of hesitation, he accepted one of the macaroons Jacq handed him, and slowly began to nibble at it.

“You know, one of the best things about the Institute is everything – from art to writing – from before the War is accessible,” Jacq said, ruffling her adoptive brother’s hair, briefly startling him. “And people still create down here, not just do the hard sciences like a lot of us do. Maybe your brain just works differently.”

Quentin eyed her strangely. “What do you mean?”

“I mean, maybe maths and formulas and physics don’t make sense to you immediately, but something else does,” Jacq replied. “Have you ever tried anything else, outside of school? I was reading about it the other day with Rosalind, how there isn’t just one kind of intelligence, and how it’s a spectrum. And you’re not stupid, Quentin. I saw your IQ score test result –”

“You what?” Quentin gaped at her. “Didn’t they just test me the other day?”

“I may or may not have eavesdropped on Allie talking about it with Nathan,” Jacq admitted. “Don’t tell them I told you, but you tested really high, Quentin. You’re not stupid. You just aren’t grasping things the way other people do, and there’s nothing wrong with that.”

“I…I guess,” Quentin said awkwardly. “I don’t know, but, thanks, Jacq. I…I’m glad you told me. And don’t worry, I won’t tell mom or dad you said anything.”

“They love you, Quentin,” Jacq promised. “They’re just trying to figure out how to be there for you and keep you safe and out of trouble. My dad did the same thing…it can feel weird, at first, but it goes well in the end.”

The Commonwealth
January the 18th, 2288
20:23

“There are definitely super mutants over there, at least a few,” Preston set down his binoculars and shook his head. “Best thing to do would be to take them out from a distance before we make our way into the plant.”

“We could come across a stroke of luck,” Derek said, beginning to put things from their makeshift lookout post in the bags again. “I’ve seen some vertibirds, recently, and they are absolutely from the Brotherhood. It’s possible they may take the super mutants out by the time we get there.”

“The mirelurks will probably be just as bad,” Nora said with a grimace. “I never liked crabs, or, honestly, any other crustaceans, before the War. I absolutely despise them now.”

“My first job when I joined the Minutemen was helping clear out an old power plant near a settlement being woken up in the middle of the night by mirelurks,” Preston said, joining them in packing up their makeshift lookout post. “I have a really gnarly scar on my left calf from where one of the mirelurks bit and then kept hitting me. The good news was we were able to stop the infestation and exterminate all of the mirelurks. The bad news was I couldn’t walk right for a month after.”

“When did that happen?” Codsworth said curiously. “I take it you healed quite well.”

“I healed up just fine, thank God,” Preston said with a slight shudder. “I was twenty three when it happened, so it must have been around the summer of 2280. Mirelurks are surprisingly vicious.”

“No kidding,” Nora agreed. “Even the dead ones are…uncanny to look at.”

“Their infestations are a real menace,” Derek said with a frown. “In Rivet City, back in the Capital, they were a massive nuisance. Between the Brotherhood and the city security team, they were able to be kept in check and never managed to hurt anyone, but they were a nightmare to deal with. Anyone willing to volunteer to kill them got paid a lot of caps for it, because no one wants to wake up in the middle of the night to mirelurks banging against your home’s walls. He didn’t do it often, but one of the members of the Rivet City Council, Harkness, was especially good at keeping the mirelurks away.”

“Harkness?” Nora raised an eyebrow. “Who’s he?”

“Other than being on the Rivet City Council, he’s the chief of security for Rivet City,” Derek said, zipping up one of the bags. “With the way he dedicated himself to training and the prowess with which he maintained and improved upon weapons, he could have been in the Brotherhood. Elder Lyons had tried to recruit him a few times, but he was so dedicated to the city he turned him down. Part of it or not, though, he was highly admired.”

“Sounds like it,” Preston said, pausing to make sure their surroundings were still clear. “We need more people like him in the world, people who just want to help others and make things a little bit better every day. Reminds me of what my mother always told me – you have a choice every day to be someone who helps or someone who hurts. I’ve always tried to live up to that, being someone who helps at least one person every day.”

“You are,” Nora smiled and Preston did too, just a little. “You wouldn’t be trying to bring the Minutemen back together if you weren’t, and you certainly wouldn’t be so dedicated to helping even the smallest settlements who ask for aid if you weren’t.”

“Thanks, Nora,” Preston said happily. “I do my best.”

“And it shows,” Codsworth put in. “I couldn’t be happier Miss Nora found you and the Minutemen. Life has a funny way of helping you out, even when you least expect it.”

“It can,” Derek said, laughing a bit. “Part of how I met my wife, actually. I joined the Brotherhood to get away from home – my parents never did anything but fight and I was their only child, kind of always caught in the crossfire – in Chicago but got injured during training a little ways outside the former Capital in the Virginia Commonwealth. A few people, who I thought at first were caravaners, helped me back to the Citadel and one of them reset my leg. The men who found me were one of Hads’ brothers and her dad. A few weeks later, they introduced us. Meeting her was the best thing that ever happened to me.”

“I’m sure she’d say the same,” Nora winked. “Based on the way you two talk about each other, and the fact you have four kids.”

“Speaking of kids, let’s try to find a good place to set up a real camp for the night,” Preston said, putting the last few things into one of the bags before zipping it shut. “I’d rather not get any closer to the plant or any…infested areas unless I have to before I go to sleep. Just in case I want to have kids one day.”

“There seems to be an old railway check station a little ways up ahead,” Codsworth noted. “It appears high enough off the ground and secure enough to be safe from attack by vermin.”

“Sounds great,” Preston said, pulling his bag over his shoulders, Nora and Derek doing the same. “Shall we? No sense in wasting time.”

Nora nodded. “Lead the way.”

A feeling of determination and pride rising in his chest, Preston looked between Nora, Derek, and Codsworth before the four of them began towards the former railway check station. Though it was a bit cold, there was no wind nor precipitation. If the temperature readings he had taken a little over an hour earlier were accurate, the sun setting would have only lowered the temperature a few degrees. He supposed, then, it was no less than forty degrees fahrenheit. All things considered, for an early January evening, it was good weather. Getting into a steady rhythm, their destination growing closer and closer with every step, Preston began to whistle to himself, and his mind wandered when he realised the tune he was whistling. The one from mother’s favourite book. She said there had been movies with it, and she had seen one of them, once. I’ve always wanted to see a film. It’s sad how limited a luxury it is to see them, what with how expensive it is to see one. What was the tune called again? Mother always talked about birds when she taught me it…mockingbirds, weren’t they? I wonder if any of those birds survived the War… There was something comforting about keeping a tune going while walking, and he only paused briefly to smile when he realised Nora was softly humming along, struggling to stay on key but the rhythm comforting nonetheless. He returned to the tune, feeling, for a moment, as though they were experiencing what life could have been like before the War, when things were, on the surface, calmer and more peaceful.

The thing about peace, though, was it never seemed to last when it counted most.

For Preston, the first time he had come to the realisation was his first encounter with raiders, when he had been fifteen. Before then, the worst thing anyone had to deal with in Far Harbour had been the creatures and the fog. After, the raiders never came back, realising the town wouldn’t cave to their demands or attacks, but the damage had been done. And mother and father died defending the town. Being the one to organise and lead their funerals…it was the worst thing I’ve ever had to do, even worse than all we lost at Quincy. I hope I’ll live to see the day when we’re able to drive people like raiders and gunners out of the Commonwealth for good. A decade. It had been a decade since he had left the only home he had ever known in Far Harbour and headed south to join the Commonwealth Minutemen. Yet, for as much as he had once wanted to establish a chapter of the Minutemen in his hometown, one day, he had never been able to make himself go back. He closed his eyes for a moment as he continued to walk with Nora, Derek, and Codsworth, blinking back tears before refocusing himself on where they were going. The rail check station was growing even closer, no longer in the far horizon. Squaring his shoulders, he returned once again to his whistling, smiling at Nora when the two of them glanced at each other, watching each other’s backs as the two of them and Derek walked just a few paces ahead of Codsworth.

For Derek, seeing peace as fleeting had been routine his entire life. Between his parents’ explosive arguments and all he had seen in just his first few years in the Brotherhood alone, he had been sure he understood peace was a rare feeling to be savoured. Until total war broke out between the Brotherhood and the Enclave. The world is safer, better without the Enclave, but they killed far too many good people for their defeat to feel truly satisfying. We were stood still for far too long. Leadership in the Brotherhood had to have known how things were going. Why they kept those of us in the field in the dark...it has never sat right with me. Something about it is wrong...and probably let the Enclave kill even more people than they already would have. Madison…I was never more grateful for someone being willing to shout at Elder Lyons before she convinced him to take final, decisive action. And his daughter, Sarah…she was too young to die but did so to save so many other people. Her father and I grew to have irreconcilable moral views after…but I understand why he felt the way he did. Hearing the sounds of gunshots going off in the distance, Derek stopped Nora and Preston but, soon enough, they were on their way again.

For Nora, peace was something she had always believed would last. Even during the War, even after Nate had returned from Alaska and the two of them had to confront the reality of their country being at war with another, she had never thought peace would dissipate. When Shaun was born, she had felt certain it was a sign things were getting better. They had both had thought so. And we were wrong. Still…none of it…none of it felt quite real until I collapsed onto the floor when I was released from the damn cryostasis pod. A f*cking radroach. It took a f*cking radroach biting my arm and seeing I was the only person still in the Vault for me to realise things were never going to be the same. That’s…that’s when it all came flooding back. Nate. Shaun. Those strangely dressed people and the man with the cruel sneer. What was…he called me the ‘backup.’ For what? What was the point of all this? Her hands trembling around her holstered shotgun, Nora tried to steady and ground herself by focusing on accompanying the melody Preston was whistling. For a few minutes, it worked, and she felt her heart rate starting to slow down to a more normal pace again. What the hell is wrong with me? I…if somehow the Commie bastards who destroyed my country are still out there, I’ll hunt them down just like I’ll hunt down whomever it was took Shaun and Nate. Why? Why did everything have to come to this? Swallowing hard, Nora tried to calm herself again, trying to hide the way her body was starting to tremble and –

“Stop! All of you move nice and slow, and get under the lamp light so we can see you!”

Nora tightened her hands around her shotgun and glanced towards where the voice had come from. As she, Preston, Derek, and Codsworth all inched closer to it, they saw the voice had come from a woman sitting at the top of the stairs of the old rail check station, her gun pointed at them. They stood still once she put up a hand to tell them they were close enough under the light for her to see, sharing increasingly tense looks until, finally, the woman spoke.

“Well, you don’t look like raiders,” The woman remarked. “And you definitely ain’t mutants, or ferals, or those gunner bastards. So, tell me: are you raiders or synths or are you normal f*cking people?”

“Normal f*cking people,” Nora said, her voice wavering a little. “I…I take it you’ve had problems with raiders?”

The woman shrugged. “Not recently. What are three people and a pre-War robot doing out in this part of the Commonwealth at night?”

“We’re with the Minutemen,” Nora told her, and the woman raised an eyebrow. “Do you need anything?”

“Normally, I’d say Ava and I are just fine on our own,” The woman replied. “But we’ve been having trouble with some nasty mirelurks. Disgusting sons of bitches broke one of our turrets just last week. We were going to wait it out, head down to where they're coming from at that piece of sh*t old water plant after the ‘lurks and mutants mostly ate each other alive. Any chance you’re heading that way?”

“We are,” Preston said with a gentlemanly tip of his hat. “Seems a lot of settlements around here having been having trouble with their water from the plant. Could I interest you in joining us?”

The woman considered that. “Ava!” She called into the inside of the old station. “How do you feel about going to kill some ‘lurks and mutants with the Minutemen?”

The other woman called Ava stepped out from inside the old station, a blanket wrapped around herself.

“You three and…uh, bot-bot there with the Minutemen?”

“Yes, we are,” Nora confirmed. “I take it you’re Ava?”

“I am,” She said, sitting down next to the first woman. “And this is my wife, Becca. Am I right in guessing she’s already caught you up on our…situation?”

“She has,” Nora said. “Are you two interested in joining us?”

“Hell yeah, we are,” Ava said with a grin. “Come up and join us, we’ve got plenty of space. In the morning, we can figure out our plan of attack. No one can think without losing their mind if they aren’t well rested, after all.”

Goodneighbour
January the 19th, 2288
14:41

Home to a smorgasbord of misfits enough to put on a damn good stage show without much effort, Goodneighbour was easily the safest place in the Commonwealth where nothing was ever boring. It was safe, but never lacking for entertainment or charm.

Many people flocked to the city for that reason. For Glory, however, the city was neither entertaining nor charming and, instead, frustrating and weird.

Sitting down on one of the benches just outside the city’s infamous ‘Memory Den’ which she knew, publicly, doubled as a place to relive one’s memories and a high end brothel and, under the table, tripled as its name suggested, a high end brothel, and a Railroad checkpoint, Glory scowled at people who stopped and stared at her and the woman Desdemona had insisted accompany her. Her companion stood leaned back against the wall beside where she sat, humming contentedly to herself, and, though she would not say it, Glory appreciated the steady rhythm and her companion’s soft, beautiful humming. If nothing else, it provided her with a good cadence for her to clean and polish her weapons to. Every so often, Glory found herself pausing to look between the Pip-Boy on her wrist and the Pip-Boy on her companion’s wrist, checking the time on both to keep track. It’s nearly 15:00 and we’ve been here since 9:00. How the f*ck do you keep yourself from getting bored or annoyed doing just about nothing for six hours, Hadley? Letting out an irritated sigh, Glory returned to working on cleaning the revolver chamber of her .44, supposing she would be far more annoyed if she had been sent alone. For a second, she smiled, realising how well she and Desdemona had come to know each other. When she glanced back at the building behind her, however, her face fell.

Five synths. Five synths, one of them being a former Courser were in there, being carefully and gently treated by Amari. Uncomfortable with her own worry for the synths Amari had been working with and whom they would have to escort safely to Bunker Hill, Glory focused in on her work. The busier her hands, the less she could dwell on her fears, or, as her companion might say, ruminate on them. The busier her hands, the less sick she felt at the thought of things going wrong. So she thought. I can’t believe how scared the Courser we rescued was before going under for her mind wipe. Not many of them leave, do they? Maybe they’re not as bad as we think. X7-63 had a panic attack about being caught by the Institute before Amari explained the mindwipe and how sending her safely out of the Commonwealth will prevent them from finding her. I do like the name she wrote down for the identity Amari will give her when she wakes up. Kyla. Suits her well, cute, kind of matches her with her dirty blonde hair and green eyes. Though she’ll definitely have to dye the hair dark. It’s too distinctive. Her finger clipping against the side of her .44 dragging her out of her thoughts when she nearly pulled her fingernail off, Glory swore under her breath. Letting the brief, dull throbbing in her finger subside, she took another look around her surroundings only to, once again, be caught between anxiety and annoyance to see no one had come out from inside the Memory Den to ‘talk business’ with her and start guiding the –

“Ah, so you’re here too!”

Glory glanced towards where the voice had come from only to frown when she saw a young man wearing a hat with a few bullets tied to it stepping towards Hadley who, much to her surprise, smiled and started laughing.

“Don’t know if you remember me, Missus Branson, but I sure do remember you,” He went on, taking off his hat with a dramatic, flirtatious flourish once he was within less than a foot of Hadley, who was still laughing. “Or, since we’re both adults, now, may I call you Hadley?”

“Never going to happen, RJ!” Hadley said, still laughing and taking his hat from him before fussing with how she set it back on his head. “Never mind I’m happily married, you’re the same age as one of my children! I do hope you’ve been taking care of yourself, though. You have been careful to take good care of yourself, haven’t you?”

Glory eyed her strangely. “Who the hell is this guy?”

“Robert Joseph MacCready,” He replied with a wink. “Former mayor of Little Lamplight if you’ve ever travelled far enough down the coast to see the Capital Wasteland. I’d offer you a business card, but I’m afraid I lost all of mine when I moved to the Commonwealth about two years ago.”

“Great,” Glory said with a tense smile. “I take it that’s how you know Hadley?”

“Met her when I was fifteen, actually,” MacCready replied, nonchalantly stretching out his arms. “I had just left Lamplight, was exploring the former Capital and met one of this gorgeous woman's kids while staying in Rivet City. I helped her beat on and mess with one of those Brotherhood aspirants. Think his name was Artie or something.”

“Arthur,” Hadley corrected. “You and Lisanna just about tortured the kid, and he’s two years younger than the two of you! I love you both, but the two of you were little sh*ts as teenagers. Then again, she had been pranking him long before you two met. Poor Sarah Lyons had to pry her off of him when she kept pulling his arm back as far as she could until he gave her some caps to win a dare, one time. And that was when she was ten and he was eight!”

“Best friends have to be willing to be partners in crime,” MacCready said with a shrug. “Besides, who wouldn’t get annoyed by someone constantly talking about how they must achieve valour and be as great as their trainer?”

“Sarah wasn’t just his trainer, he was her ward,” Hadley chided. “But, I’ll admit, Lissy wasn’t always the instigator. You weren’t, either, and, regardless, at least I could trust you two not to get yourselves hurt if no one was actively watching you guys lurk around Rivet City. You sticking with that sweetheart girlfriend of yours did wonders, too. How is she, by the way? Are you and Lucy still seeing each other?”

MacCready sighed. “Actually, she…” He suddenly lost all amusem*nt from his countenance and voice. “We ended up getting married, but she…she was killed by ferals.”

“Oh, kid…” Hadley suddenly hugged him, startling him for a moment. “I’m so sorry. I knew there was something special when I saw the way you two looked at each other, but I –”

“Don’t worry about it, Hadley, it ain’t your fault,” MacCready said awkwardly when she (mercifully) released him and let him breathe normally. “I feel worse about our son not knowing his mother more than anything else.”

Glory turned to him in surprise. “You…” She pushed back the urge to laugh. “You have a son?”

“A little boy,” MacCready said with a bit of pride in his voice. “We named him Duncan. Since I have to work a lot…well, Daisy helps take care of him while I’m away.”

“Duncan’s a sweet kid. You’re a good, lucky man, MacCready.”

Glory groaned when she saw Goodneighbour’s rather infamous mayor come up and almost fatherly slap MacCready on the back before setting his hands on his shoulders. Sending him a sharp look, Glory and Hanco*ck stared at each other for well over a minute, only breaking it off when Hanco*ck found himself having to blink.

“Amari’s scary friend,” Hanco*ck said, rubbing his eyes. “You know, Fahrenheit still wants you to train with her one of these days.”

“I don’t have time for something like that,” Glory pointedly reminded him. “You know I’m just about always busy, Hanco*ck, and, when I do have free time, I like to do things that don’t involve fighting people, even for practise. And, no, there is no amount of money you can offer me to change my mind.”

Hanco*ck eyed her strangely. “And people say I’m a bitter grouch!”

“If you think you’re a bitter grouch, don’t visit the Capital,” MacCready told him. “There’s this one guy in Rivet City who I think deserves an award for being a bitter, grouchy man. I think his name’s Pinkerton. Anyways, way I heard the story, years and years ago he got so enraged by his science projects being deprioritised that he stormed out of a city council meeting, gave up his seat, and accused people who had been on his teams of treason for leaving his projects for one focusing on providing free, clean water for everyone in the region.”

“Alright, alright,” Hanco*ck said, putting up his hands in mock surrender. “I’ll admit it – that is hardcore. I admire that kind of spirit.”

Glory frowned. “You also admire that one guy who drank a bottle of moonshine, vodka, and topped it off with a dose of daytripper at the same time. Didn’t he end up breaking a few tables in the Third Rail because he tried to make a stripper show while drunk and high off all that?”

“He did,” Hanco*ck said with a little too much eagerness. “And he also got his picture on the wall and now eats and drinks free there because he not only survived but reinvigorated people’s interest in the bar.”

“Glad that happened before I started meeting with clients in the back down there,” MacCready said with a shudder. “I don’t think I’d be able to sleep ever again after seeing that.”

“It was a magical event,” Hanco*ck said, socking him in the arm. “You really missed out, square.”

MacCready rolled his eyes. “Believe me, Hanco*ck, if I were a square, I wouldn’t be alive right now to tell any of my stories, some, come to think of it, you always ask about. Trust me. I know how to be messy, even if I try to avoid it these days.”

Chapter 8: Something Troubling

Chapter Text

The Commonwealth
January the 20th, 2288
9:23

Waiting a few days to get one final scope of the old Weston Water Treatment Plant had been for the best. As they had hoped, the mirelurks and super mutants outside the facility had, for the most part, done away with each other. Getting into the facility had been gone relatively smoothly.

Navigating the facility was a separate issue.

As they had expected, the entire facility was flooded to at least a foot of a water on the entrance level. Wading through the water, Becca hacked through some of the algae with the butt of her gun, throwing her free arm out to push the others back before kneeling down, passing her gun to Nora to hold. Slowly stepping forward, still crouched, Becca ran one hand through the water, apparently looking for something. Suddenly, she paused and dropped her other hand into the water, hands wrapping around before twisting and tugging at something under the water. After a minute of fighting with it, she ripped out a large, metal plug caked in algae, rust, and hard water. Slowly, the water in the room began to abate, swirling down the drain. Standing up and holding the plug in one hand, Becca waved the others past her and around the draining water, Nora first, soon followed by Preston, Derek, Ava, and, finally, Codsworth. Frowning at the drain as the water flowed down it, Becca waved at Nora to throw her gun back to her, which she quickly caught with one hand before, finally, throwing the plug to the side, hitting the concrete floor with a harsh, metallic thud.

Hands wrapped tightly around her gun, Becca walked down to the end of the corridor where the others were waiting. Standing between the doors to keep them from closing, Nora swallowed hard when the elevator bell rang, and waved Becca in. Once she had slipped into the elevator, Nora stepped all the way in herself, hands shaking around her shotgun. The elevator bell rang again, and then began its descent. Closing her eyes for a minute, Nora took in a deep breath, and steadied herself. The doors opened again, and Nora stepped out first, quickly followed by Preston, Derek, Becca, Ava, and Codsworth. Leading the way, Preston reloaded his musket, and fired several shots at the few, armed turrets there were with Becca and Nora slipping past to shoot down the other turrets he couldn’t reach. The turrets (forcibly) deactivated, they took a look around their surroundings. A broken clock on the wall, burnt out fluorescent lights, and a cork bulletin board with a few pieces of paper still tacked onto it were still hanged on the walls. Towers of file cabinets around desks with melted through computers on them had files still within them, some of them with boxes on top of them, too.

Feeling something was very wrong, Preston slowly turned a corner before calling Derek over to attempt to access one of the few, still working computer terminals in a dimly lit part of the room where a few lights were, also, still working. With not a moment to spare, Derek holstered his pistol and began to work on hacking into the computer terminal. Preston stood near him, watching his back. Ava flicked on a flashlight, and began to take a look around before finding a storage closet, which she opened. She rummaged through the boxes for a few minutes before finding a few stimpaks, radaway, and an assortment of recreational drugs. She unzipped her backpack and dropped the items in before quickly zipping it back up. Nora, Becca, and Codsworth paced the room, looking for a way deeper into the plant. After a few minutes, the group reconvened and began through a door into the facility manager’s room. Nora shot down another turret, and then walked over to a nearby desk to take a look over a few of the files on top of it.

“Damn…” Nora raised an eyebrow before laughing when she found a set of comics underneath a lifestyle magazine. “I haven’t seen this many of these in a long time.”

“Grognak The Barbarian?” Codsworth noted, taking the magazines from her when she handed them over to him. He put them into a small bag he carried. “If I recall, Mister Nate was quite fond of these.”

Nora managed a faint smile. “If no one else, I’m sure Shaun will eventually enjoy them.”

“This another working terminal?” Derek began to work on accessing it when Nora nodded. “Just a second…hmm…”

When the computer terminal opened past its login screen, he quickly pulled up the facility logs. After a few minutes of struggling to navigate the somewhat buggy computer terminal, he managed to access the facility’s main controls, and deactivated all turrets before attempting to redirect the facility’s power to an auxiliary generator in order to turn the electricity fully on. Although the system seemed to struggle for a minute, eventually it gave a pop up saying the power diversion was in progress. Then, the group followed after Preston through a set of doors and down a flight of stairs into the heart of the facility. Lights were starting to flicker on, and Preston walked over towards a set of terminals and manual controls for a Mark VI, emergency flood control water pump. Taking a look over the controls to ensure he didn’t hit the wrong thing, Preston eventually found the pump activator. He opened the lid, and pulled the lever up. Rumbling began, and, through the windows at the terminal centre, some of the water began to drain, revealing a walkway into the heart of the facility.

Walking over to the closed door, Becca hit the now-active button for it, and waited for it to open. She swore loudly when a mirelurk all but charged at her, and began shooting at it, letting out a sigh of relief when it collapsed dead. She then waved the others towards her, and Preston went into the main facility first, followed by her, Nora, Derek, Ava, and Codsworth. Moving slowly on the slippery walkway, slick with algae in a few places, they walked down the steps before turning left towards another, apparent control room. Hearing the sounds of a few mirelurks below them, the group steadied their guns before shooting at the crustaceans as soon as they were in sight. A few started to come up from down below, and the group shot them down before following Preston into a long hallway leading to a machinery room. When they reached the other side of the room, he hit the button and opened the door. Finding another terminal centre, he pulled open the lid and pulled the lever, and some more water began to drain.

Preston took a look around while Nora, Becca, and Derek began down another flight of stairs.

Her hands a bit shaky from the increasingly cold and wet metal seemingly all around them, Nora reached into her pockets and pulled out another round of ammunition, reloading her shotgun. She, Derek, and Becca turned the corner while Preston, Ava, and Codsworth kept an eye on the system as it struggled to continue to drain. A few more mirelurks came out from the water as it drained, aggravated by the noise, scent and sound of people, and lowering water levels. Nora steadied her hands around her shotgun and pulled the trigger, barely skidding out of the way of the mirelurk which Becca, thankfully, shot down before it could get any closer. The walkway slick as ice from the algae and remaining water clinging to it, Nora nearly slipped and fell ten feet down into the water but was pulled back when Derek, quick on his feet, holstered his pistol and wrapped his arms around her waist to pull her back to safety. He let go of her as soon as she was steady and safely away from the edge. Her chest rising and falling rapidly, Nora mumbled something to him in gratitude.

Tucking her shotgun under her arm as she tried to warm her clammy hands a little, Nora stepped out of the way so Derek and Becca could pick up the dead mirelurk and push it off and down into the water below. Less than a minute later, Codsworth, Ava, and Preston caught up to them. Seeing how she had paled despite her otherwise rosy skin being somewhat flushed from the anxiety, Preston gently set a hand to Nora’s shoulder, and found himself startled when she put her gun back in its sheath wrapped around her leg before hugging him and starting to cry. With a worried sigh, Preston loosely hugged her, too, and lightly patted her back. Sharing a short look with Derek, Preston let Nora cry into him while Becca, Ava, Derek, and Codsworth turned around and headed to the other side of the facility to address a third pump, lower down and becoming increasingly visible while the water level continued to lower. Slowly walking them back towards the room from whence they came, Preston helped Nora along as she shook the same way he had too many times before when helping fellow Minutemen, who had gotten injured in the line of duty, back to wherever it was they were operating out of. Once they made it to the room again, Preston guided Nora over to a chair where she sat down and buried her face in her hands, almost as though she were embarrassed.

“I’m so sorry,” She finally got out, flinching when they heard the rumbling sound of another pump being turned on, followed by the sound of water slowly beginning to further drain. “I don’t know what’s wrong with me. I…”

“You don’t have to apologise for anything,” Preston gently told her, shifting his laser musket from under his arm to strapped behind his back. “It’s been a hell of a day, and it’s not even the afternoon yet…if I’m guessing the time correctly.”

“It has been,” Nora said, trying to steady her breathing. “But that’s no excuse. I shouldn’t be…I need to control myself. I can’t be holding you guys back.”

“Nora, please, listen to me,” Preston shook his head when she looked up, swallowing hard. “You are not holding anyone back. You are more than allowed to feel things, and to feel them strongly. We all do. You are facing things I don’t think anyone could have ever anticipated. Hell, we get caught off guard too.”

“I suppose,” Nora hesitated, tiredly rubbing at her eyes. “I…I feel selfish, having such a heavy f*cking heart about what little I know, what little I know about not only my husband but our baby, why everyone but me had been released and they were taken. I…why us? Why did it have to be us?”

“Truthfully, I think only God has the answer to that,” Preston said, pausing until she nodded to let him know it was alright to continue. “But you are not selfish to want – strongly – to find at least answers for what happened to your family, and, hopefully, reunite with your husband and son. That’s not selfish, not at all. I…in a perfect world, what happened to them would be a…what was it they used to be called? Federal crimes?”

“Non-consensual, uninformed, coerced participation in a scientific study and assault and kidnapping, yes, those…they were federal crimes,” Nora sighed, her hands shaking again. “I…I prosecuted a case of the kidnapping of a woman and her child by the ex-husband shortly before Shaun was born. The ex-husband…he killed her and their child and…and…and he…”

“You don’t have to go on if it’s too much,” Preston said when he noticed her beginning to choke up again. “I can only imagine how painful it must have been to have to fight for two people whose voices had been taken away by such a monster who wanted to get away with it.”

“It was,” Nora eventually said, taking a deep breath, her voice quieting. “The son of a bitch threw their bodies into an old mine shaft hundreds of miles away in rural Virginia. Because it was a federal case – our state had outlawed capital punishment decades before, but the federal government had not – he was sentenced to death. I hope he's rotting in hell. I…” She glanced to her friend, trying to steady her hands when the sounds of a fourth pump draining began again. “I know you probably won't have the answer, but…do you know who ended the War?”

“Actually, yes,” Preston said with a heavy sigh, taking off his hat for a moment and bowing his head. “A few years ago, the Minutemen and I came across a former US government facility – CIA or DIA I think it was? – where we found the minute by minute logs from…NORAD I think it was called? They were logs from the day of the War. China fired first. The US didn’t launch any counterattacks until the first Chinese bombs were fired. It was six hours before the US fired, they were focused on shooting down the Chinese bombs into the ocean but, eventually, they couldn't keep the defencive anymore and fired back. Chinese bombs hit Pennsylvania and New York just before ten am and Seattle, San Fransisco, and Los Angeles about ten minutes later.”

Nora stared, horror setting in, and taking over her entire body. She began shaking and struggling to breathe the way she had the day of the War's final, firey culmination and the evacuation to the Vault. Hesitant at first, Preston set his hat back on his head and came over to her and knelt down, holding her shoulders steady.

“According to Derek, and by extension the Brotherhood, the US general communications went down about five minutes after New York and Pennsylvania were hit because Washington DC was hit,” He eventually said when Nora waved a hand to tell him to go on. “At least some of what information remained in the former…military headquarters in DC? The Pentagon? The Chinese officials sent a…video to the US government, citing the massive escalation due their being sure they would lose the War.”

“Oh my God…” Nora whispered. “I…Nate came back from Alaska, shortly before we…before we conceived Shaun. He was sent back after he was a part of a major operation that removed the Chinese military from Alaska and western Canada. f*cking…”

She and Preston both flinched when the sound of another pump beginning to work went off and began rumbling alongside the others, followed by gunshots, presumably taking out more mirelurks.

“Nora, you are a good person,” Preston finally said, standing up when she began to calm down. “You just explained how you fought for justice for others before the War, and you helped us without question when you found us in Concord.”

Nora managed a small smile. “I was glad to help…and I certainly couldn’t have asked to gain a better friend afterwards.”

“I’m happy you feel that way,” Preston said, adjusting his hat. “Nora, you’ve done everything you can to try and balance your desire for justice for others and your desire for justice for your husband and son. But you shouldn’t feel you have to do and be everything for everyone. It’s okay to go back to Diamond City, or wherever you need to go to try and find them.”

“I…I do want to,” Nora ran her hands through her hair. “Will you guys be alright without me?”

“We can hold down the fort,” Preston said with a short nod. “I’m sure Codsworth wouldn’t mind helping, too. He’s quite the character – and I mean that in a good way.”

“He can be,” Nora agreed with a small laugh. “Alright,” She finally said. “Thank you, Preston. I…I appreciate you more than I can say.”

“If you find anything or need more help, let us know,” Preston said, smiling when she nodded. “You’ve been through hell. You deserve to get closure…if not real, solid answers.”

“I just hope those answers don’t lead to anything worse,” Nora said tiredly. “It’s already bad enough, knowing they were taken. Who would even want to take my husband and baby? It doesn’t make any damn sense.”

Preston hesitated. “There are…one group of people who might be interested in learning from pre-War people, especially a father and his child.”

Nora eyed him strangely. “I don’t understand. What are you talking about?”

“Have you heard of the Institute?” Preston said, dismayed at the thought. “They’re a group of scientists who are behind the creation of synths, the thing a lot of people in the Commonwealth are scared of. I don’t understand that fear, to be honest. Synths are just like us, they’re just not exactly the same biologically. If real people can be as horrible as raiders or as ruthless as gunners, a synth can be too. But most people aren’t like that, and most synths aren’t either, at least from the little experience I have.”

“So, wait…the Institute would want to watch my husband raise our son in their…wherever the hell they are?” Nora said, her brow furrowed in confusion. “What on earth would be the point of that? It’s not as if they would be unconscious of the fact the War happened.”

“Maybe it would just be curiosity to see how they adapt to Institute life, although no one really knows where the Institute is or what it’s even like there,” Preston said, himself confused at the notion. “At the end of the day, I have no idea. But…you still should know all possibilities and, as probably outlandish as it is, that’s one of them.”

Nora sighed, standing up, and slowly reloading her gun.

“I’m glad you’re looking out for me. And…thanks. You’re right. Unlikely as it probably is, nothing’s out of the picture. That’s what gets me...anything could have happened to them…and I suppose not knowing is what scares me most.”

Covenant
January the 24th, 2288
21:03

“A few goddamn weeks, and you’re finally a tolerable human being,” Dan frowned when Annette flipped him off across the table where she, him, Deacon, Haylen, and Rhys were having dinner and drinks. “You are still a – pardon my language – bitch, but I apologise for having been quick to judge you.”

“I am as well,” Haylen said, her eyes narrowing at Rhys when he snorted. “We have all become dedicated to determining what happened here. Dan is particularly invested in this, as I’m sure you can understand.”

“I do,” Annette said, taking a sip of her rather full glass of wine before pulling up her nearly knee length braid into a coiled bun atop her head. “I am well aware I am guarded, and for it I can come off as cold or rude. Regardless, I should think our main focus should be on what we do know, now. I understand Brian has learnt more about this alleged ‘Compound?’”

“I have,” Deacon said with a slightly smug look towards Rhys, not noticing the man had turned on a holotape to record the conversation from under the table. “The gate guy, Swanson? He seems a little too fond of a spot near where the small lake drains into some sewers.”

Dan turned to him in surprise. “I think I may know where you’re talking about.”

“Where that old man who’s always smoking a pipe or drinking a gin and tonic likes to fish?” Deacon winked when he nodded. “Glad we’re on the same page.”

“But how could the sewers be connected to this ‘Compound’ when the grates are almost certainly impassable?” Haylen leaned forward when she took the recording holotape under the table from Rhys. “Even if there is an underground location underneath the sewers, I can’t see any feasible way of getting to them.”

“That’s what I’m trying to figure out,” Deacon said, winking at the waitress when she brought him another round of shots. “See,” He said after taking down one of the shots. “It ain’t a secret – well, at least, now, anyways – the sewer systems had access tunnels for the DIA. I guarantee you there are intact facilities of theirs in them somewhere.”

“Interesting theory,” Annette paused in consideration. “I will admit, I know a little about the DIA. Their presence in the former Capital was immense before the War, considering they were headquartered there alongside…other institutions.”

Rhys eyed her sharply. “It sounds as though you don’t hold them in a particularly favourable light.”

“I don’t,” Annette said frigidly, lighting a cigarette. “Had the US government put more focus into building a virtually impassable nuclear defence system, the impact of the War would likely have been less severe on the country. Areas such as this Commonwealth and the Commonwealth in former Virginia were lucky, spared direct hits, but they were close enough to places hit directly for them to face serious consequences post-War.”

“I haven’t been particularly far south, but I did see New York City, once,” Dan said grimly, looking between her, Haylen, and Rhys. “Do you know the history of the World Trade Centre there?”

“I’m afraid not,” Haylen said. “My Brother and I are ourselves from the former Capital. We went around that region to arrive in the Commonwealth for…rather obvious reasons.”

“Can’t blame you, it’s a lot like San Fransisco, not that I expect any of you to have been out west. I’ve only been once, but I’ll never forget it,” Dan said, his voice growing increasingly heavy when he looked back to them, Annette, and ‘Brian.’ “The World Trade Centre didn’t just fall on the day of the Great War. About fifty years before the Resource Wars, a middle eastern terrorist organisation orchestrated an attack on the US. I think most people before the War referred to it as ‘9/11’ or something because of the day it happened.”

Annette took in a sharp breath, tapping excess ash off her cigarette. “I have heard of that before, but I never was able to find out much about the event it referred to.”

“What I know is just what I’ve heard over the years,” Dan said, running a hand through his hair. “From what I know, it was brutal and only ended when two planes were hijacked and crashed into the then-so called ‘Twin Towers’ of the New York City World Trade Centre. Another hit the Pentagon in the Capital, and another ended in a field in Pennsylvania. Supposedly it was meant to hit a major government building in DC but crashed in a field when the passengers fought the hijackers. Thousands of US civilians were killed, if I’m remembering the history correctly. It started a twenty to thirty some odd year War Against Terror right before the Resource Wars.”

“Despicable,” Rhys said, a harsh tone entering his voice. “Everything about the War and what led up to it is despicable, but civilians ought not be brought into government conflicts.”

“The US government grew increasingly unstable by the 2030s,” Annette told him, pausing to take a long sip of her wine. “I’ve learnt a little about it from my own research regarding the Enclave both during and after it was…dealt with. One president even made the horrific choice to attempt to overthrow the government in the decade before the so called 'hearty 2030s,' though thankfully he failed. First president to be sent to prison for something nearing treason, actually.”

“Fascinating,” Dan said, eyeing her closely. “You’re quite the well read person. I wouldn’t have guessed that from our first few interactions.”

“No, I imagine you wouldn’t have,” Annette said, a slightly frigid tone entering her voice again as she primly adjusted her slim red reading glasses. “Either way, I do appreciate the knowledge I’m not surrounded by a bunch of idiots who need to be handheld through history in order to understand what avenues may exist for us to continue a thorough investigation. Now. Enough with the detours. What’s done is done and, frankly, I suspect, even if a defence system had been in place and maintained to prevent the War from severely impacting the US, the US government would have been little better than the Enclave.”

“Pessimistic but I suppose understandable,” Haylen shook her head. “I do concur with you. It is easier to attempt to figure out where our investigation will lead us if we know what infrastructures are able to be used and perhaps are being used now.”

“My point exactly!” Deacon said with a slightly smug flip of his (falsely) long blonde hair. “If we can find a way into the sewer tunnels the way some pre-War government assholes did, then I bet you a place with the resources of this creepy ass town can too.”

“If you’re right about this ‘Compound’ being near the old man’s fishing spot, though, it seems it’s not accessible from there,” Rhys irritably reminded him. “And we still don’t know if this alleged ‘Compound’ is anything useful to us at all. We only know the faintest bit about this place’s concern around synths because of Dan’s…thievery.”

Dan bristled. “You can’t do everything by the books when you’re attempting to find out what happened to people in a place where those alive are actively working to cover up their own atrocities. If it’s true they’re attempting to weed out synths – which it seems likely they are – then I sincerely doubt they’re doing so just out of the goodness of their hearts. I see only two reasons for it. Either they’re working with or are part of the Institute – which is the most disturbing possibility – or they intend to kill and likely have killed real people just to see if they were synths.”

Haylen raised an eyebrow. “How would killing someone reveal them to be a synth or not if synths are, as you and Brian have helped us understand, indistinguishable from the rest of us?”

“I happen to have quite the answer to that,” Annette took a long sip of her wine, looking a bit forlorn at the thought. “After you and, of course, Dan explained this Institute and their synths, it occurred to me I and several others I knew may have had contact with them without realising it in the former Capital.”

Haylen and Rhys suddenly turned to each other with stunned and horrified looks. Though she already had one recording, Rhys discretely took out another holotape and began recording under the table himself.

“How?” Dan said, eyeing her critically. “How could you or anyone else have possibly had contact with the Institute without realising it?”

“I don’t appreciate your accusatory tone,” Annette said with a haughty glare. “This was about a decade ago, so forgive me for having to think on something such as this when the people we had contact with did not refer to their organisation in particular detail.”

“You said yourself you grew up in a Vault,” Rhys coldly put in. “I should think questions towards you on the subject are more than reasonable.”

“Enough,” Annette took another sip of her wine before setting down her glass and leaning forward on the table with her hands clasped. “Yes, I grew up in a Vault. Vault 101. That is why I’m here. I believe it’s quite possible this place is tied to there, somehow, and, considering the pain the previous Overseer would go on to cause me and my family, I want answers now I am in a position to seek them.”

“Reasonable,” Deacon said with a shrug. “Hell, I’d want answers too.”

“Thank you,” Annette said, barely able to mask the exasperation she felt. “My father and I were forced to leave the Vault, him before me, and I spent well over a month struggling to find where he went. I had to do quite a bit of digging in order to find him, leading me from a small town known as Megaton to Rivet City, where I met one of his former colleagues. She was, understandably, shocked to see me, and was one the first people to tell me the truth – which is I was not born in the Vault and my mother had died giving birth to me.”

“Jesus that’s rough,” Deacon said with a slight grimace. “Sorry you had to go through that.”

“I am too,” Annette shook her head. “Dr. Li gave me a decent bit of information, but neither of us had any solid leads. It seemed as though my father left the Vault, went through Megaton, arrived in Rivet City, and then disappeared. So...I turned to the Brotherhood Of Steel. Due to having been trained in medicine while in the Vault, the Brotherhood agreed to find my father, as they believed it would endear them to Dr. Li, and held me in the Citadel as an...assistant to their head doctor. I was not permitted to leave the Citadel until after they found my father and he and Dr. Li had returned to the project she and my parents had been working on alongside the Brotherhood Of Steel before my birth. They let me leave the Citadel to work on the project known as ‘Project Purity,’ alongside my father and Dr. Li. Its objective was to purify and deliver clean and fresh water to the entire region, to millions of people in the former states of Maryland, DC, and Virginia...something not only necessary but something the Brotherhood believed would endear the people to them.”

“I believe I’ve heard of the project before,” Rhys said mildly. “Go on.”

“My father would go on to be killed by the Enclave, but the project was ultimately successful shortly after the Enclave’s defeat,” Annette pursed her lips. “When one of the Brotherhood’s most important members gave her own life to stabilise and de-radiate the purifier’s central command room. I’ll be quite plain: Dr. Li, her assistant, my father, and, later, myself were routinely bothered by someone I now believe to be an Institute agent before and after that time.”

Haylen raised an eyebrow. “How so? Who was this person?”

“A serious piece of work named Dr. Charles Zimmer,” Annette said, looking rather disgusted at the mere thought of the man. “Among other things, he told Dr. Li – who, mind you, is a brilliant woman and one of the most empathetic people I’ve ever met – he wouldn’t be leaving her lab or even Rivet City until she, and I recall his words specifically because of how often he said it and how…condescendingly he said it, would ‘stop playing with her chemistry set and start talking real science.’ He was there looking for what I now am inclined to believe was a synth.”

Dan frowned. “Why do you suspect he was looking for a synth or was with the Institute at all? Sounds more like he was a real nasty person but not necessarily with them.”

“Well, among other things, he would not shut up about the power of his so-called android bodyguard, although it was more a thinly veiled threat than anything else,” Annette said sharply. “Dr. Li personally refused him the right to speak with her, and her assistants and eventually myself and my father would tell him the same because, among other things, he was consistently interfering with her developments in hydroponics and, later, Project Purity itself.”

“The bodyguard was a synth?” Haylen repeated. “I assume he used the term android interchangeably with synth?”

“I can’t quite remember but I wouldn’t be surprised,” Annette shook her head. “When he spoke to me, he insisted I help find his ‘missing property’ which I, after quite a bit of hassle, managed to get out of him was another one of his androids. The way he explained them, it sounded as though this android had escaped from his supervision. I assume, now, he was referring to himself as an Institute agent. Considering how he treated all of us, I imagine he’s quite important there.”

“Damn…” Deacon said with a low whistle. “What’d he tell you?”

“He – condescendingly might I add – informed me, just like his bodyguard, the synth he was looking for would appear and act as though it were human,” Annette replied, unclasping her hands, her fingers impatiently tapping up and down against the table. “He also noted synths are unaware they aren’t human unless somehow informed otherwise, and implied some even have their minds wiped. Slated I believe was the term he used.”

“What did he expect anyone would be able to do?” Rhys scoffed. “Sounds as though even he couldn’t have found the damn thing.”

“No one could, and it drove him mad. Admittedly, watching him get angry was fun to watch,” Annette said with a smirk. “But the most important thing I can remember is all synths – whether they were, in his words, ‘older models, and easily replicated,’ or newly created and advanced – have a component in their brains, a chip integrating into the basic brain processes, including genuine emotion and consciousness otherwise developed over the course of one’s life, into that of a fully developed and functional adult. He said because of this they ‘start to think for themselves’ and ‘fool themselves into thinking they have rights.’ I believe he also said the synth he was looking for was meant to hunt down and recapture other escaped synths but how or why that works I have no idea.”

Dan eyed her closely. “Sounds like a synth as we know them alright. Anything else?”

“The same chip also allows them to perform all of the same tasks we do every day from breathing to eating and digesting food and water. As you said, Dan,” She glanced to him with a hint of suspicion. “I or anyone else couldn’t tell the difference between a synth or a person. The only way to tell would be to kill them and see if there were a chip in their head. If this ‘Compound’ exists and this town is trying to weed out synths through it and their test, then it seems most likely the end result for all of their subjects – human or not – is always death. Horribly barbaric, if you ask me, but what other conclusion is there?”

Rhys and Haylen glanced to each other, well aware their thoughts were in about the same place.

When this information reaches Paladin Danse, he’s sure to bring it directly to the Elder’s attention…it’s vital to the Brotherhood, and we’ve just about struck gold.

The Institute
February the 2nd, 2288
20:23

“Have we heard anything from Kellogg?” Nate sighed when his son glanced up from the report a synth had brought him with a morose look. “Damn. That’s unfortunate.”

“It really is,” Shaun agreed, continuing to page through the report. “Kellogg is usually quite responsive, considering he tends to request what he needs as necessary throughout an operation. He’s always been that way, and it’s incredibly well documented. The previous two directors left quite an extensive profile on him.”

“Director Jamison was the one who ordered our release, wasn’t he?” Nate paused in thought. “It was ultimately a good thing, of course, but the way it was handled was awful. The last thing I remember before being rendered unconscious was a second scientist stepping in front of Kellogg and his gun going off. The last thing I recall saying was insisting they wouldn’t be taking you from me. I’m glad they didn’t.”

“I am too,” Shaun said. “Though I do wish Jamison hadn’t chosen to leave mother in the Vault, or his very soon after successor, Dr. Anne Leavitt, while monitoring and…hastening the release of everyone else from the Vault to ensure she was not bothered.”

“It’s terrible,” Nate briefly looked over to where life was going on as normal below from where they were on the balcony, looking down at one of the central pavilions of the Institute. “But it’s not nearly as awful as some of the things put in motion during the War. Yes, it was a wonderful and imperfect world, but some of the things…I doubt I’ll ever forget what I saw while fighting in Alaska. Considering what I’ve been able to learn since about, in particular, Vault-Tec…it’s rather sad to think about.”

“Vault-Tec’s actions were unconscionable,” Shaun said, setting down the file. “Knowing so is part of why I don’t understand the choice of either of the former directors to leave mother as the only person in the Vault. I imagine she thought she was the sole survivour of Vault 111. It’s terribly tragic.”

“It is,” Nate said, shaking his head. “Hence why I’m concerned about lack of information from Kellogg. I don’t much like him, and I know you and the vast majority of the Institute feel the same, but he’s been an incredibly valuable informant. I’ll admit, too, I have had a few fascinating conversations with him about where he came from in…what is it they call it? The New California Republic? I’m amazed they were able to at all re-create the US government, even with some corruption but, of course, corruption was part of the US in all facets of life, too.”

“It’s quite fascinating, considering how it began to emerge so soon after the War, although some of their stories are rather…strange,” Shaun said with a laugh. “Their flag has a two headed grizzly bear on it, doesn’t it? I recall the…unmutated creature being on the original state’s flag. I find it particularly amusing – from what we've heard – one of their current politicians campaigned for his position with the mutated bear on their flag in a pen.”

“One of our pre-War politicians did the same with an unmutated grizzly bear,” Nate said, laughing himself. “It happened when my parents were children. For as amusing as it was, he lost his election.”

“I imagine so,” Shaun said. “I always appreciate your stories, from then. I wonder if mother will have the same…or be willing to discuss them.”

“She’s one of the most brilliant women I’ve ever met,” Nate smiled. “She graduated top of her undergraduate class in two years instead of four, and then went into law school. She passed the Bar and was hired as a lawyer shortly before you were born. I had never met anyone like her before, someone so self assured and driven.”

“I hope to meet her soon,” Shaun said, surprised when his father handed him an old photograph of them and his mother. “It looks so idyllic. I can only imagine what life would have been if things had gone better for humanity, not only for us. But it can’t be…and fixing that mess is part of our work.”

“It is, and I hope your mother will understand everything happens for a reason,” Nate paused, sadness falling into his voice. “It has taken me decades to come to terms with everything…and I hope finding us will expedite the process for her.”

“I do too,” Shaun said, staring at the photograph of his family. “I couldn’t be more proud of what we’ve achieved. I hope she will feel the same. I can only imagine what she’s going through. After all she has lost – after all we have lost as a family – I can’t help but wonder if she’s become despondent…and given up hope on us. When I had her released from the Vault, I had to accept and have no expectations she will survive out there. Losing the chance to be with her once has been a hard enough reality to accept my entire life. Losing the chance to reunite with her now…it would hurt more than I can even imagine.”

“It would. At the same time…knowing your mother, I would be shocked if she gave up so easily,” Nate said, reaching over to pick up one of the many files on top of the table between him and his son. “She may be disoriented for a while, but I have no doubt she won’t give up on us, and certainly not on you.”

Shaun glanced up from the photograph to look at his father.

“How are you so sure?”

“You meant everything to us from the moment you were born, and especially to your mother,” Nate said, brushing aside tears that began to rise. “After I came back from the War, from…everything that happened in Alaska, she had been terrified of something happening to me. Things had been…especially brutal. Fighting off the Commies who had been trying to destroy our country had come with a cost for all us who made the sacrifice to try and ensure the future for everyone.”

Shaun nodded slowly. “Of course. I absolutely understand. From everything you’ve told me over the years, and from all of the Institute’s records from then, the War was nothing short of terrible, which is I’m sure to be an understatement.”

“It is, but I don’t think anyone could truly express the things we went through, even then,” Nate said, hesitating for a few seconds. “The day of the War's end, I was supposed to give a speech at the Veteran’s Hall in Concord. It’s strange looking back, realising how we never could have known what was going to happen. In some ways, maybe we, at least in civilian life, never stood a chance.”

“Maybe so,” Shaun said. “But…what was it you were saying about mother?”

“Oh, of course,” Nate managed to laugh a bit. “There’s so much I could say about her. As I’m sure I’ve told you many times before, she’s one of the strongest, brightest, and most compassionate people I have ever met. When we met, it was because I was attending a surf meet my older brother was competing in. She was in a different competition, but I was amazed by her ability. She didn’t win, but I couldn’t even imagine doing some of the tricks she did without falling off.”

“It’s strange to remember there was a time when it wouldn’t be horribly dangerous to do something like that on the surface,” Shaun said, almost wistfully. “Even stranger is to consider I was alive then, though, considering I was infant, I unfortunately can’t remember any of it.”

“It’s what I regret most,” Nate said, falling silent for a moment. “At least, I wish you were able to remember your mother. When she and I first started talking, I learnt she had taken up the sport after years of competitive swimming since she was a child. It’s sad to remember how, before the War, she had hoped to, in a few years, make the American team and compete on the world stage at the Olympics. God…there were so many things we had planned for.”

“The War has ruined so much,” Shaun said, looking back to the family photograph. “I understand it might be too hard to discuss, but, I am curious, how did mother get the scar from her ear to cheek on the left side of her face?”

“Truthfully, I don’t know,” Nate said, his voice briefly wavering. “She never wanted to talk about it, and I never pushed her on the matter. The last thing I wanted was to make her relive something I can only imagine to be incredibly traumatic.”

“Of course,” Shaun paused when he noticed a Courser in the doorway. “Has Dr. Ayo completed his analysis early?”

“He is still awaiting information from X6-88,” The Courser replied. “I have come only to inform you Dr. Watson would like to speak with you.”

“Send him in,” Shaun said shortly. “Is that all?”

“Yes, sir,” The Courser said. “I will take my leave now.”

The Courser stepped to the side to let Dr. Evan Watson into the Director’s quarters, then quickly leaving to return to the SRB.

“I hope I’m not intruding,” Evan said when Nate motioned for him to join them. “I understand, with so much happening and with so many threats to the Institute, at the moment, any time of respite seems to be dwindling more and more by the day.”

“You’re not,” Shaun told him. “We are friends, after all.”

“Has something happened?” Nate said, raising an eyebrow when Evan nodded. “Advanced Systems or something else?”

“Advanced Systems,” Evan replied. “In light of the increasing and deeply concerning presence of the Brotherhood Of Steel, I do have some concerns about Dr. Li.”

“Dr. Li has more than proved her loyalty to the Institute,” Shaun said pointedly. “Even when she has, for instance, gone to the surface. I hope you haven’t forgotten her integral involvement in convincing Jacqueline Spencer to come to the Institute.”

“Considering the information and evident skill and intelligence this girl has, I have decided it makes the most sense to grant her request, particularly because she was willing to stand up to Kellogg,” Shaun had said, pausing for a moment when Dr. Li crossed her arms. “I understand returning to the surface for any time will be stressful for you, which is why I have also decided Dr. Filmore will accompany you.”

“Really?” Madison had raised an eyebrow. “To what end?”

“Considering this girl’s interests and skills, she would, I imagine fit best in your Division or Dr. Filmore’s,” Shaun had replied. “If we’re going to bring her into the Institute, instead of sending our usual scientists, we should show her the respect she has clearly earnt. Kellogg is a brute. Anyone willing to demand something from him has a great deal of dauntlessness.”

Madison had frowned. “Allie doesn’t have much experience above ground.”

“True,” Shaun had agreed. “Which is why I am asking you to accompany her. Take care of Dr. Filmore, if you would. She’s eager, but, yes, you’re correct in stating she doesn’t have much experience above ground. You do and can more than take care of yourself and her. It certainly would remind some of your dedication to your work and the Institute, as well.”

“I suppose,” Evan said warily. “I’ll admit, while I am deeply concerned about the Brotherhood entering the Commonwealth, I do want to reverse engineer and gain access to their designs for use by the Institute. I hope she will facilitate that.”

“Dr. Li has a great deal of resentment towards the Brotherhood,” Shaun added. “They took advantage of her and stole her work on more than one occasion. She has more than proved herself over the years.”

“Understood. I simply wanted to cover all bases,” Evan said with a short nod. “She is a brilliant mind. It would be a shame to lose her to the Brotherhood…and they are disturbingly driven and relentless.”

Chapter 9: Something Glittering

Chapter Text

Diamond City
February the 3rd, 2288
19:28

Something about stepping through the gates of Diamond City for the first time in well over two months felt surreal, just as it had the first time.

While the feeling subsided when they reached the top of the stairs into the city, it was replaced all too quickly with the same painful shock of remembering the place she had once known as Fenway Park would never be the same. Somehow, the greatest reminder of how much things have changed is a place where so many people have been able to rebuild. It’s a good thing, and it’s been here for well over a century, still standing. And…it’s where I have to start. God, Shaun, Nate…wherever you are, I need you to be safe…I need you to know I’m coming for you. Shaking herself out, Nora glanced every so often at Derek, who was walking beside her and waved warmly to some of the city’s residents who waved at or greeted him when they reached the bottom of the second set of stairs. Stepping into one of the city’s many large markets, Nora found she couldn’t help but smile when the young girl waving and selling papers outside her sister’s office paused to smile at her. Following after Derek towards where he, his wife, and their children lived in the upper stands, Nora tightened her jacket around herself, the wind more than a bit uncomfortably sharp and frigid. Still, when they reached the home and Derek unlocked the door, holding it for her as she entered, knowing the journey was over, for now, was a relief. She smiled when she saw Hadley, but her face fell when she saw the way Derek tightly embraced and then kissed her once he shut and locked the door, a feeling of loneliness clawing at her again.

“I hope you don’t mind Piper’s here too,” Hadley said when she came over to Nora and guided her over to one of the couches, handing her a blanket when she sat down. “Her and Lissy’s friend Cait is also here. A bit of a celebration, if I’m being honest.”

“A celebration?” Nora eyed her strangely. “For what?”

“For mom getting Piper’s ass out of jail,” The unfamiliar voice of a teenager with messy dark hair and a lab coat on said, stepping out from the kitchen. “McDonough locked her up for about a month because he knew mom and dad would be out of town. When mom got back last week, he let her go, but only after what I’m sure was a very loud argument with mom. She’s a really scary bitch sometimes.”

“Emmett, don’t talk about your mother like that,” Derek chided, taking off and hanging up his coat. “She did the right thing. McDonough has been escalating things with Piper recently, and –”

“Escalating is putting it mildly. He let security push Nat around too.”

Nora laughed a little when the young writer slid down the banister of the stairs, followed Lissy and, then, by a woman in a corset and ripped pants with shoulder length, messy dark hair, whom she assumed to be Cait.

“McDonough probably would have sent Nat off with you if he’d been given the chance,” Emmett reminded her. “You’re lucky Vadim was there to help protect your little sister. Nat’s sweet but I wouldn’t put it past her to try and bite security or McDonough himself to try and keep you from getting arrested.”

Piper scowled at him. “Nat isn’t a feral ghoul, Emmett. She doesn’t bite people, God.”

“You two may be proper enough not to do that sh*te, but I will,” The dark haired woman turned to Nora. “I don’t think we’ve ever met, but the name’s Cait. Been a friend of Piper’s for years, and like to think I’m a good influence on her.”

Emmett snorted. “Yes, because you of all people are a good influence.”

“Enough, Emmett,” Hadley said, sending her son a pointed look. “If you’re going to be sarcastic, you could at least do so after introducing yourself to our guest.”

The teenager brushed his hair out of his eyes and uncomfortably waved at Nora.

“Hey. Emmett Branson. Eighteen, 5’10’’, blood type O positive,” He turned back to his mother. “That satisfy you?”

Hadley sighed. “I don’t know what’s gotten into you lately, but, sure, I suppose so,” She went to pour a glass of wine before walking over to and handing it to Nora. “I’m sure you and the Minutemen have been doing a lot. You’ve more than earnt that.”

“Thanks,” Nora glanced between her, Piper, Lissy, and Cait, and Derek and Emmett who had stepped into the kitchen and, from what little she could hear, started bickering. “So…I guess you probably already know why I’m here.”

“Of course,” Hadley said gently. “You’re still trying to find your husband and son.”

Nora nodded. “Shaun, he’s…he’s going to be a year old soon, and…and if he’s not with Nate and they’re…I don’t understand. Why them? What’s the point of kidnapping someone and their baby?”

“Sounds like the kind of thing only a real sick bastard would do,” Cait said darkly. “Can’t even imagine what it must feel like to be missing people that important to you. It’s terrible.”

“It is,” Nora said, pausing a moment to take a few sips of her wine. “Derek mentioned there’s someone here in Diamond City who could help me at least start locating them. Do you know where to find them?”

“Under normal circ*mstances, yes,” Piper said, sharing a knowing look with Lissy. “But, right now…”

“The guy you’ll want to talk to is Nick Valentine,” Lissy said, fidgeting with her glasses. “The only problem is he’s missing himself. Has been for a couple of months, and it’s been hell trying to even narrow down where he could be, other than trying to track down a mobster and where the man's operating out of.”

“Doesn’t your brother have some map of the remains of the old underground train system? Because that sounds like the kind of place a mobster and his gang would hole up,” Cait said. “I thought Emmett finished it recently after some sort of thing with the other intellectuals in the city he spends all his time with, in that science place.”

“I already gave it to Ellie,” Piper told her. “She and Vadim are going to go through it the next few days, because he’s gotten a few more tips from people coming and going from the bar. Apparently, he may have gone to look for them in a Vault, and one could be in the old subway system, though it doesn’t sound like a very good place to put one. Either way, I guess the benefit of being a bartender is you hear a lot from all the people who come and go from the city, not just the regulars.”

Lissy winked. “You mean us?”

Piper playfully elbowed her. “Of course I do.”

“So, if we find this…you said his name is Nick Valentine?” Nora hesitated even after Cait and Piper nodded. “If we find him, he’ll be able to help me with figuring out what happened to Shaun and Nate?”

“Absolutely,” Piper said encouragingly. “If Ellie – she’s Nick’s secretary – and Vadim think they’ve got a strong lead to wherever Nick is, I’m happy to come with you to try and find him. He’s a good guy, always wants to help whomever it is he can…and he’s one of the smartest people I’ve ever met.”

“If I ain’t got anything I have to do, I’ll join you,” Cait added, stretching out her arms. “Been too damn long since I picked a good fight out in the wild. Besides, they can be more fun that way.”

Lissy grimaced. “You two better be careful. If someone’s managed to keep Nick somewhere this long, they’re probably really good at their job, and I get the feeling they’re the kind of people who would hunt other people for sport.”

“You read too many books,” Cait said, waving a hand dismissively. “Most likely the people he was investigating have locked him up somewhere. From what I’ve heard you and Piper say, they’re probably some mobsters who prefer a cushy life. They most likely ain’t a bunch of hardened raiders.”

“You keep saying mobsters but...” Nora raised an eyebrow. “Do you mean they're the same as before the War?”

“Minus being around before the War, yeah,” Cait said with a shrug. “People are all the same, sometimes, and some of ‘em are always going to be into dressing and talking stupid while holding people hostage or f*cking with people who’ve caused problems for ‘em.”

“You make them sound like the Institute,” Lissy said with a slight shudder. “Although, then again, who knows how they dress there. Maybe the Institute is into high fashion.”

Piper laughed. “I would pay to see an Institute fashion show,” She turned to Nora when she regained her composure. “We’ll find Nick, and, I promise…he will help you find your baby and your husband.”

Cait nodded, sitting down beside Nora. “If it’s not too much to ask,” She said. “How are you feeling now? A lot of people would’ve already broken under this kind of sh*te.”

“I…I don’t know,” Nora said quietly, startled, briefly, when Cait reached over and rested a warm hand on her knee before resting her head on her shoulder. Something in her began to feel strange, and she pushed it aside. “All I know is I can’t give up hope, especially not on Shaun. He’s my baby boy, the one person in the world I’m supposed to be able to protect…and I couldn’t. I…I need to be able to find him, make sure he’s alright. Whomever it is took him, whomever it was they may have given him to…they’re going to pay.”

“As they should,” Piper shook her head. “What kind of monster takes a child away from their parents, anyways? Some people are just sick.”

“They are. I thought, before the War, I already knew that. I was a prosecutor, and saw a lot of horrific cases during my time as a legal intern. But…” Nora swallowed hard, blinking back tears. “But seeing my baby be taken, and not being able to remember much of it beyond the cruel sneer of one of the people who took him, a man…I don’t think I can forget his voice. And it’s haunting.”

“I can only imagine,” Cait said, taking Nora’s hands and reassuringly squeezing them. “You’ll find the bastard, and, when you do, you’ll be able to make him pay and reunite with your baby.”

“I hope so,” Nora said softly. “But it’s hard to not feel defeated, some days. I…I’m his mother. How could something like this happen?”

“I don’t know,” Piper said, picking up a Nuka Cola from the coffee table and twisting the cap off. “I guess sometimes the world is just cruel, and too many people are just so damn selfish.”

“They really are,” Cait said before glancing at Nora, who she could feel shaking a little. “It’ll be alright,” She promised her. “Sooner or later, all this sh*te will be able to be put to rest one way or another.”

“And, the second we find Nick, you can tell him everything,” Piper encouragingly added. “Cait and I will be there for you, to find him…not only to keep each other safe but because no one should go through this alone. No one should go through what you have alone…and we’ll do our best to make sure you never have to.”

“Damn right,” Cait said, lightly patting Nora’s back. “You’ll find the answers you’re looking for. It just takes time.”

Nora nodded, but said nothing, a strange yet pleasant feeling bubbling in her chest when Cait wrapped an arm over her shoulders.

Why am I so comforted by the words of a stranger?

The Institute
February the 6th, 2288
17:12

“Did you hear I’ll be presenting a paper to the rest of the Directorate about our synths and the potential for their sentience in a few months? I’m quite excited for it.”

Saving her work and looking up from her computer terminal, Dr. Rosalind Orman smiled at the head of Institute Robotics when he stepped into Advanced Systems. As always, Dr. Alan Binet was in a jovial mood, pausing to step into Dr. Li’s laboratory to tell her the news personally, only to be snapped at and informed he was interrupting her experiment. Not letting her spoil his mood, Alan stepped back into the main concourse of the Advanced Systems Division, pausing to speak with a few of his colleagues who were surprised to see him outside of the two places he spent most of his time – his own Division, Robotics, and his home. All too happy to talk about his conviction of synth sentience, Alan only stopped himself when it occurred to him he had been going on about Eve a bit more than he had meant to. Dr. Ayo seems eager to bother her and Liam, constantly acting as though I would facilitate the escaping of our synths. Why would anyone do that? I certainly wouldn’t want to inflict that kind of cruelty on any being, synth or not. After a few minutes, he turned to Dr. Orman, who had been listening curiously, walking over to where she was standing.

“Have you had that conversation with Dr. Ayo yet?” Rosalind sighed when he nodded grimly. “Well. I can’t say I wish his aggravation on anyone, but I think I speak for most of us around here when I say I’ll be glad for him to focus on trying to meddle with a different Division.”

“I have to agree,” Dr. Nathan Filmore remarked, briefly glancing between them before turning back to the blueprints he was drawing up. “I certainly don’t envy Dr. Moseley, considering how much of his time not working in the field is spent acting as the intermediary between Madison and Justin. Justin has been trying to interfere with and take resources away from us for months, and has only escalated things further in the past few weeks.”

“It’s worse than that,” Dr. Newton Oberly said with a hint of irritation to his voice, stepping into the Division concourse from the Institute reactors, locking the access to that part of the Division with a swipe of his ID card. “He’s had Coursers begin unannounced security sweeps. Waking up to Coursers ransacking my quarters in the middle of the night is totally unacceptable, and I’m sure I’m not the only one who will be having words with Father about it.”

“Allie already has,” Nathan told him. “Lucky for us, I suppose, we were up late talking when the Courser came in and attempted to search Quentin’s things. After what happened, he’s – understandably – terrified of them, and it woke up both him and Jacqueline. I had to calm him down from a panic attack while Allie had the Courser removed, and none of us slept well afterwards.”

“That’s ridiculous, even for Justin,” Alan shook his head. “Unfortunately, he’s done the same to me too. He even threatened to take Eve and perform a mind wipe on her.”

Rosalind frowned. “I thought the Directorate had agreed what happens between you and Eve is your business and nobody else’s?”

“We did,” Alan said. “But, apparently, he doesn’t seem to think much of the agreement, never mind Father’s approval of it. His treatment of her is disgusting, and using Coursers to not only pry into my personal life but threaten an indispensable companion to myself and my son is simply wrong.”

“Dr. Li has had issues with him going through everyone’s things too,” Rosalind said, sharing a knowing look with Nathan and Newton. “From what I heard, she took up the matter with Father, and I get the feeling he had words with Dr. Ayo about it, because Dr. Li also has gotten Ayo barred from entering Advanced Systems without her express permission.”

“Justin has stepped well beyond his purview,” Newton frowned. “I suspect this will stop soon, however. I don’t imagine Father will let this continue, not with pushback from multiple Division Heads. He takes Dr. Filmore and Dr. Li very seriously, too. When either one of them raise a matter with Father, he listens. If both of them raise an issue, he will absolutely take them seriously.”

“I wouldn’t expect any less,” Alan said. “On a much lighter note, what do you make of my synth sentience conjecture?”

“I find it quite plausible,” Newton said, laughing. “As I've said before, the new synths are so lifelike, I sometimes mistake them for real people.”

“I’m a little unsure,” Nathan shook his head. “I’m no psychiatrist or neurobiologist. I suppose they could be sentient, and I do find myself forgetting they aren’t from time to time, particularly after working with Father’s child synth project. S9-23 is amazingly like Father, and I’m sure understanding him better will help provide us answers to whether or not synths can develop their own personalities and sentience.”

“The boy is an incredible development,” Alan eagerly agreed. “I know Dr. Li has her own reservations and…disagreements with the project, as she’s quite focused on Phase Three and doesn’t want to have any distractions from it. Phase Three is important, don’t misunderstand me, but we can’t neglect other lines of research just to prioritise Phase Three.”

"Absolutely, but the sooner Phase Three is completed, the better. I’m not going to miss everyone complaining about insufficient power levels,” Newton said. “Particularly considering how much stress it has put on those of us in Facilities,” He turned to Nathan. “I’m sure Allie has plenty to say on the subject.”

“She does,” Nathan replied. “I completely understand why. She has enough to think and worry about, and enough to work on, without having to constantly divert and adjust our current power sources to meet needs. It doesn’t help we have to constantly pull from a variety of power sources on the surface at the moment.”

“Well, once Phase Three is able to be implemented, we should be able to put that behind us,” Rosalind said excitedly. “One day, I may even be able to design a more efficient reactor to improve on if not completely replace one or both of those old clunkers in the basem*nt! To be completely honest, I’ve already started thinking about the next reactors. I’m convinced antimatter is the way to go, but I haven’t got the concept fully thought out quite yet. It’s alright, though. We’ve got decades before we may even be able to test something like that for efficiency and efficacy, even on a miniscule scale.”

Alan nodded. “And what do you think of the synths we’ve been developing recently?”

Rosalind shrugged. “From what I can tell, it sounds like we’re only scratching the surface with the latest synths. I haven’t spent much time with any synths, not even S9-23, but there’s so much potential in them. I’m sure we haven’t explored all possibilities with them, yet. What possibilities are you focusing in on for the paper you’re going to present to the rest of the Directorate?”

“A couple of things, but the one I find the most immediately fascinating is regarding a recent observation Dr. Loken and I have made,” Alan said eagerly. “I fully intend to use it as a way to shut down some of the SRB’s attempts to interfere with Robotics as well. I do miss Dr. Zimmer. If he were here, none of this nonsense would be happening, but, I’m sure, my presentation will eventually shut Justin down and put a rest to the SRB’s interference in Robotics. I certainly won’t miss Ayo’s Coursers looking over my shoulder all day.”

Nathan raised an eyebrow. “How would you manage that?”

“SRB scientists have been saying our most recent synths, the third generation synths, are malfunctioning,” Alan said, a hint of annoyance entering his voice. “They’ve claimed the increasingly autonomic behaviours observed in the synths is a malfunction. It is not. Now, Justin has been escalating his manipulative power plays, as we all have agreed, but his demands for scouring through the behavioural mappings in the synths are ridiculous because there is nothing wrong with our synths. I’ve said it before, but I will say it again. The third generation synths are functioning just as designed.”

“So, the point of your research and presentation for the Directorate will be to prove they’re sentient?” Rosalind eyed him strangely. “And their sentience isn’t a defect?”

“Precisely,” Alan said. “Justin and so many others firmly hold the archaic opinion about the synths being inferior, but, by limiting them, we limit our work. There doesn’t necessarily have to be a distinction between them and us. They are meant to coexist with us, in some ways as an evolution of us. The synths possess vast, untapped potential, if we’d only let them show it. But no matter. Dr. Loken and I have observed clear, visible signs of consciousness and sentience.”

“You have?” Nathan said, surprised. “What signs?”

“Well, as I said, our synths are truly remarkable, and, every day, they manage to surprise me,” Alan said happily. “At first, Dr. Loken was sure it was a software malfunction for fine motor control, but we’ve been able to rule out any software or hardware issues that would cause this phenomenon. As of late, we’ve begun to see our synths experiencing involuntary twitching and rapid eye movements while sleeping. I need to perform more brain scans, but it appears our synths have the capacity to and do dream!”

“Is that so?” Newton paused in consideration when Alan nodded. “That’s fascinating.”

“And, if synths dream, they have a consciousness,” Alan excitedly added. “Which is why I have begun to wonder this – if a synth can dream, why can’t it have a soul? And, if a synth has a soul, wouldn’t it be a living person by every standard we can measure? Me personally, I would say yes.”

Goodneighbour
February the 13th, 2288
15:51

Wading through ankle deep water and having to kill mirelurks was nothing new. It had been a natural part of living in the former Capital, even more so after he had moved to Rivet City as a teenager.

Having do it while surrounded by people who had no idea what they were doing, however, was new and very, very, very unwelcome.

With little information from Bobbi, who had, last he heard, scurried off to Diamond City to bribe a friend out of jail, the only good thing about her being gone was he could leave the mirelurk killing to the variously strange, frequently high guys who were, also, concerningly bad at shooting. Shuddering a bit to himself, having had to dodge out of the way of far too many bullets for what would, under normal circ*mstances, be an easy job, MacCready more than happily went up the stairs back into Bobbi’s place, as she called it. With a thumb drive he had gotten from Hanco*ck in hand, he slowly snuck up to the main house, and, to his relief, it was more than evident Bobbi was still gone. Trying not to think too hard on whatever it was she could be doing other than ‘just helping out a friend,’ he took a look around to make sure there weren’t any hidden surveillance devices. Once it was clear there weren’t any and no one was around to see him, MacCready made his way up the second set of stairs to Bobbi’s personal office. Sure enough, as he had suspected, her computer terminal was there, plugged in and turned on, albeit locked on a screen saver. He gagged when he sat down at the desk in front of it, the image Bobbi had chosen as her screensaver unsettling him.

What kind of psychopath has a picture of severed heads as their screensaver?

It took a minute for the login screen to appear, and he breathed a sigh of relief when it did. The screensaver disappearing was a good thing on its own, but the computer terminal being accessible was itself a good sign. Taking a quick look over his shoulders, MacCready paused to listen to ensure no one else had come into the building without being seen. As soon as he was sure he was still alone, he turned back to the computer terminal, slowly beginning to try and hack into it. Eventually, he got past the security and into the computer terminal. Its home screen was not much better than the screensaver, and he tried not to look at it too closely. A bit glitchy, the computer terminal crashed a few times before finally letting him open up the navigation to access Bobbi’s files. Who needs acid when you have a glitchy computer? More than a little annoyed with the device, MacCready bit back the urge to swear at the computer, and the same feeling of guilt he had been hit with when he realised he had almost instinctively sworn when he had realised Hanco*ck was the one who interrupted his and Bobbi’s fight in the Third Rail returned. I’m sorry, Duncan, I don’t know what’s wrong with me. Closing his eyes briefly to try and calm his breathing and heart rate, MacCready eventually refocused himself on what he was doing.

Finally, he managed to open up one of the files in Bobbi’s (unsurprisingly) messy and disorganised computer terminal.

Personal Notes –

23/10/2287, send flowers to that funeral for the guy found beaten and on the verge death in Hotel Rexford with a note simply stating ‘love forever, Louise.’ Should be a damn funny joke.

13/11/2287, begin operation with Mel to slowly drain Marowski’s chems going to that rich pretty boy out of Diamond City who’s always flashing his dad’s money.

20/11/2287, send the guys down with Mel to begin excavations for the big dig, and prepare for things to move quickly with the project.

23/12/2287, make arrangements for lacing Hanco*ck’s chems if he leaves them out on new year’s eve.

3/1/2288, find out Hanco*ck’s ‘new years resolutions’ if he has any and sabotage them before this first month of the new year is over.

“Well, that’s useless,” MacCready muttered, navigating back to the home screen to look for more documents. “And creepy.”

The Map –

So, here’s what I know: the map I got stolen off those raiders was drawn up under the orders of some city planner at the State House, a Sebastian Mullins, and right before bomb day! Looks like the city was planning on expanding the subway system, but the big kaboom ended that. At least somebody’ll make use of it. The map shows a subway tunnel not too far from my own basem*nt here in Goodneighbour! And, from there, a network of underground utility areas that lead right to that bastard mayor’s strong room. All I have to do is dig through, and I’m in like Flynn.

After fighting with the computer a bit more, MacCready managed to download the file to Hanco*ck’s thumb drive. When the file finished downloading, he went back to the home screen, pulling up another file. Just a few lines in, he was about ready to cheer, sure he would be able to be finished with the whole operation the second Hanco*ck got the information.

Rant –

Hanco*ck had a word with me today. Said he was worried about me hiring up. That he suspects I’m up to something. I told him I’m always up to something. Told him to get out until he has news for me. I am so sick of Hanco*ck and his dumb smug mug. The second anybody else gets any power around these parts, he comes in and squashes it. He thinks everyone who has the privilege of living in this dump owes him everything. He’s wrong. He owes me for the time I wasted here. I’m going to be somebody. I’ll show him. What a c*nt. Those chems aren’t going to be his much longer. If he were smarter, he would know a better place to hide them. Lucky for me, the man is much more predictable than he thinks he is...

“And there it is,” MacCready grinned when he set the file to download to Hanco*ck’s thumb drive as well. The second it was done, he saved the information to it and removed the thumb drive. “Finally. Last thing I want is to have to keep putting up with her. She ain’t right.”

He jumped a bit in his skin when the screensaver briefly flashed on the screen again, but paused when he noticed the computer terminal was connected to a safe. Slipping the thumb drive into his pocket, and taking another look around his surroundings to make sure he was still alone, he turned back to the computer. A little bit of digging through files and applications, and he found the programme to disable the locking mechanism on the safe. Waiting to hear the click of the safe unlocking, MacCready then shut down all of the files and programmes on the computer terminal before logging out and turning the device off. Setting down his bag, he fought with the safe for a minute before getting it to open. Much to his surprise, a lot of what was in the safe was junk. Who locks stuff like this up anyways? Albeit somewhat difficult with all of the disorganised junk haphazardly jammed into the safe, he unzipped his bag and dropped in the few items of note. Apart from a few holotapes, which he assumed would be at the very least interesting to Hanco*ck, the safe had some things worth taking. A pulse grenade, cryo mine, fragmentation mine, and a surprising amount of both medicine and chems. Better I have these than her. And some of the chems will sell well…who keeps this much jet and mentats in storage? The creaking of the building briefly startled him, and he quickly dropped the last few things into his bag, zipped it up, and shut and locked the safe again.

Slowly making his way back down the stairs and slinging his bag over his shoulder, MacCready took one last look around to make sure he was alone and not being watched or listened to. The second he was sure, he slipped out the doors and into the alleyway. He paused to catch his breath and calm down, shaking himself out before walking back onto the main streets of Goodneighbour. The city was unsurprisingly lively, and the afternoon slowly disappearing only seemed to be amplifying it. A few kids were chasing each other around. The various members of the neighbourhood watch were wandering about, occasionally adjusting or working on their guns. When he opened the doors to the Old State House, he paused in the doorway for a few seconds, paranoia of being trailed seizing him, before going into the building and slamming the door shut behind him. Trying not to focus on the way Hanco*ck’s guards were watching him, MacCready almost frantically made his way up the stairs to Hanco*ck’s office, only to find him not there and Fahrenheit sitting on the couch, her legs kicked up on the table. Hearing footsteps, Fahrenheit glanced up from polishing her knives, already cleaned and polished guns beside her on the couch, to critically eye the twenty two year old mercenary nervously standing in the doorway. She then waved him in with a faint smirk and lit up a cigarette before waving at two other guards to shut the doors, which they promptly did.

“I got the information,” MacCready told her, pulling out the holotapes and thumb drive, setting them down on the table. “Bobbi’s trying to rob Hanco*ck and dig her way to wherever it is he keeps his chems. Speaking of which…where is he?”

Fahrenheit smirked. “He’s going to be gone for a while. But don’t worry. I’m not cruel. I’ll take a look at those before him. And,” She laughed. “You aren’t going back there. You’ve done your part…and I’m sure Hanco*ck will decide what to do with you once he gets a look at these.”

MacCready grimaced as he sat down on the couch across from hers. “I don’t like the way you’re saying that.”

“I know,” Fahrenheit said, taking a smug draw on her cig. “I didn’t get to the top of this town by playing fair, and toying with my pawns is just part of the fun for me. Don’t forget it, Little Bird.”

“Little Bird?” MacCready raised an eyebrow, leaning forward from the couch across from her. “I haven’t been called that before.”

Fahrenheit rolled her eyes. “It’s your pseudonym around here, at least to me and Hanco*ck. Do yourself a favour – don’t forget it.”

“Alright, but, I have to ask,” MacCready said, eyeing her strangely. “How did you two come up with that anyways?”

“You have your secrets, and so do we,” Fahrenheit said, shrugging. “What does it matter? We aren’t changing it. To us, you’re Little Bird, and nothing you say can change that. Sorry to disappoint you. Were you anticipating us to call you something a little bit more formidable?”

“I wasn’t expecting the two of you to call me anything at all,” MacCready said, trying not to laugh. “Who came up with it? You or Hanco*ck?”

“Hanco*ck,” Fahrenheit told him. “He’s decided the name suits you. Did you expect anything less?”

MacCready hesitated. “If I’m being honest,” He finally said. “I would have thought you to be the one who comes up with strange things to call people.”

“Oh, I often am,” Fahrenheit took a long draw on her cig. “But in this case? Far be it from me to take credit for something thought up by Hanco*ck. Don’t forget who runs this town, Little Bird, don’t you forget it.”

Railroad Headquarters
February the 16th, 2288
12:39

“This is escalating far enough, Desdemona,” Carrington said, irritably following after the twenty six year old leader of the Railroad as she returned to the organisation’s headquarters. “Even you cannot possibly think letting anyone, even Deacon, do something this dangerous to be a half decent idea, let alone authorise such a thing.”

“Identifying if the Institute has a concrete point of action in the Commonwealth is crucial, whether you like it or not,” She said, resetting the cipher before closing the first of two doors into the old crypt. “This is potentially our only chance to pin down whether or not the Institute has dramatically expanded their operations in the Commonwealth, and it should be explored thoroughly. At the very least, we owe it to Stockton to free his adopted daughter from where she’s most likely been held hostage for months.”

Carrington let out a frustrated sigh, his eyes narrowing at Desdemona when she turned back, briefly, to ensure he wasn’t left behind before entering the main crypt. Desdemona was herself unfazed by his arguing, having become more than well accustomed to it. In some ways, arguments with Carrington had become something of a routine. She barely paid any mind to him. Completely exasperated, Carrington muttered to himself in frustration, and went back to his work. Looking between the two, and all too aware of the arguments between Carrington and Desdemona, Glory sighed, running her hands through her short white hair. Nearby, Drummer Boy was anxiously running about, preparing information and holotapes for reports and dead drops. In a much different mood, Tom was humming to himself, jumping between his multiple computer terminals, a Pip-Boy hooked up to them for analysis of the data and operating systems on the device. For as hectic as things were, and for as palpable as the tension between Carrington and Desdemona was, they also seemed strangely quiet. A bit loathe to admit it to herself, Glory found things to be a bit boring without Deacon around. He rarely was gone for more than two weeks, and, while the information he was providing them was substantial, something about the lack of his presence was unsettling.

“What are the two of you arguing about this time?” Glory finally said, frowning when Carrington only turned to scowl at Desdemona. “Another decision come to a crossroads?”

“Yes,” Carrington said irritably. “Desdemona is insisting it is a reasonable idea to let Deacon infiltrate a facility where the town he’s already covertly investigating may be taking people hostage to determine whether or not they’re synths.”

“Deacon’s instincts are solid, Carrington,” Desdemona sharply reminded him. “And he won’t be doing this alone. He will be with Stockton’s man, and, more than that, provided additional cover by them going in with someone who knows absolutely nothing about the Railroad, let alone our –”

“We still don’t know the full and final extent we were compromised after the Switchboard disaster. Our numbers are perilously few,” Carrington said, exasperated. “To risk or potentially lose an asset as integral to our current operations as Deacon on a hunch is ludicrous!”

Desdemona narrowed her eyes. “I’m not going back underground, and I’m not going to cease major operations such as –”

“Why on earth not? For a few synths?” Carrington gaped at her. “See reason, Desdemona. You’re suggesting risking a major asset on a hunch that could save a few synths if they’re being held hostage by this town.”

“I swore an oath to save every synth I can,” Desdemona snapped. “And it’s not only Deacon who is nearly certain this town has a facility where they are torturing people to see if they’re synths. Infiltrating it will not only, likely, save the lives of many synths, including Stockton’s adopted daughter, who by all accounts is most likely there, but determine whether or not this town is a part of the Institute!”

Carrington frowned. “All of that’ll be a lovely epitaph on our tombstones. You do realise, if we are caught by the Institute, it will be a near absolute destruction of our organisation and there will be no one and nothing left to save synths. You are being –”

“Enough, Carrington,” Desdemona said, raising a hand to silence him. “If anyone can and will pull this off, it’s Deacon.”

“And if he’s found and killed?” Carrington shook his head. “His death would be solely on you, Desdemona, and just how many mistakes must be made before the others demand a better leader?”

“Des is right about Deacon, though,” Tom said, pulling all of the devices on his headgear up to turn to where the doctor and Desdemona were arguing. “Deacon and Stockton’s man could absolutely handle it alone, but with someone who doesn’t know about us? It’s the best opportunity to see if this town has their…what was it the report called it?”

“The report says the place is called the ‘Compound,’” Drummer Boy nervously put in, handing a copy of the report to Carrington. “It’s supposedly the place where the town tests the efficacy of the test they use to weed out synths, their ‘SAFE Test.’ There are two other people who are investigating the town, but Deacon suspects they’re operatives with the Brotherhood Of Steel.”

“Has he been compromised?” Glory said, turning to Drummer Boy. “Either Deacon or Stockton’s man, that is.”

“No, they haven’t,” Drummer Boy confirmed. “Their cover as nothing more or less than caravan workers out of Bunker Hill is more than secure. Deacon and Stockton’s man have kept the information on their having identified the location of the ‘Compound’ to themselves and invited only the woman Desdemona referenced. This woman is from the Capital Wasteland, and knew nothing about the Institute before arriving here. She has absolutely no knowledge on us, something which has become increasingly apparent from further conversations with her.”

“Deacon and Stockton’s man have been very careful to keep her in the dark,” Desdemona added. “From what I understand, the reason she is interested in this ‘Compound’ has no relationship to any of our reasons for interest in it.”

Carrington sceptically glanced to her. “And what might those reasons be?”

“Deacon’s report was quite thorough, I suggest you read it,” Desdemona coldly said, but she then let out a tired sigh. “In short, she’s a doctor from the Capital Wasteland. Her father was killed by members of the Enclave, shortly before the Enclave was finally defeated. Her interest in the town and its ‘Compound’ is a link she believes exists between it and a Vault-Tec Vault in the Capital Wasteland. Apparently, some of the Vault members killed a man who was something of a surrogate father to her, among other things she hasn’t been particularly forthcoming about.”

“So, what you’re saying is a woman’s desire for revenge may be just what we need?” Tom winked. “I like the sound of it. We let her help free the people being held in this ‘Compound,’ and she can do whatever she needs to do there without having to be let in on why Deacon and Stockton’s man are really there or who they really work for.”

“It could work,” Carrington grudgingly conceded. “But what do we even know about this woman, other than where she originates from and why she’s come to the Commonwealth?”

“I…I’ve got that,” Drummer Boy glanced between him, Desdemona, Glory, and Tom, briefly unsure if he should speak. “It’s also in the report, but…”

“Go on,” Carrington said, waving a hand. “What is it we know?”

“Her name is Annette Davis,” Drummer Boy hesitantly began. “She’s in her late twenties, has light brown, almost dirty blonde hair at about knee length, wears reading glasses, has an unusual, non-American accent Deacon is pretty sure to be English, and is around 5’4’’ and about a hundred and ten pounds. She practised medicine in a Vault in the Capital Wasteland but left around a year ago and has been investigating the circ*mstances leading up to her and her father having to leave the Vault temporarily. She was forced to leave the Vault for two years, during which she was held in custody of the Brotherhood Of Steel. After that, she went back to the Vault alone and, like I said, only left a year ago for the Commonwealth. She believes she could find the answers she’s looking for in the ‘Compound’ but hasn’t elaborated on why.”

“At the very least, it sounds as though she could be a good distraction for Deacon and Stockton’s man to free any synths who may be held captive there,” Tom said eagerly. “Including Stockton’s adopted daughter!”

“We’re at a sh*t time,” Glory said when Carrington began to protest. “If Deacon and Stockton’s man are sure we won’t be compromised by including this woman in the infiltration of the ‘Compound,’ then they’re going to pull this off. Especially since they’ve apparently been very careful not to let those other people investigating the town know why we’re there.”

“They’re sure this woman isn’t a part of the Brotherhood Of Steel, too. Actually, given how she talks about them, it sounds like she despises them for just about holding her hostage for two years,” Drummer Boy nervously went on. “That’s part of why they only want to do this operation with her. The other two people they know are investigating the town are – from everything Deacon has been able to find out – part of the Brotherhood Of Steel.”

“What’s led them to come to that conclusion?” Carrington said, eyeing Desdemona critically. “Or is that a secret you intend to keep from me.”

“Deacon found holotags with their names on them,” Desdemona said shortly. “The two people in question presented themselves as Janet Haylen and Laurent Rhys, and Deacon found Brotherhood Of Steel holotags in their bags with those names on them.”

Carrington frowned. “Sounds to be another unnecessary risk.”

“It’s quite the opposite,” Desdemona told him. “As it happens, those two being part of the Brotherhood is another reason why Deacon and Stockton’s man intend to carry out the operation with Annette Davis alone. She apparently did not take it well when he told her, and wants to keep the Brotherhood out of her investigation just as we want to keep them out of ours. From what I understand, she doesn't just despise the Brotherhood, but is terrified of them.”

“This is probably the only chance we’ll get for this,” Glory said, pacing. “And it’s probably the closest we’ll get to infiltrating any piece of the Institute – at least for the time being – if it turns out the town is a part of them.”

“I say we go for it,” Tom said, elbowing Desdemona. “You agree, boss?”

“Since I imagine she’ll give the order for them to go ahead with this either way, I won’t argue any further,” Carrington said, irritably eyeing Desdemona closely. “But I have to ask – have you already given the order without consulting with the rest of us?”

“Of course not,” Desdemona said, her voice a bit sharpish. “But, if we’re all in agreement, I will.”

“We are,” Tom assured her. “Should we start getting things ready for the dead drop?”

“Yes,” Desdemona said, turning to Glory. “Can you pass them the information on your way to your next operation?”

“Absolutely,” Glory said with a hint of a smile. “Whomever’s behind hurting those synths doesn’t stand a chance. By the time we’re done with them, they’ll be left wondering what the hell happened, and we’ll have gotten those synths safely out of the Commonwealth by the time they realise they were infiltrated.”

Capital Wasteland
February the 20th, 2288
18:26

“There is no other course of action. Once we are fully prepared, we make for the Commonwealth. The Institute and everyone responsible for the creation of the synths must be eliminated, at all costs.”

Irritably pacing, Arthur Jonathan Maxson found himself more certain than ever that the Brotherhood had to act, and act swiftly. Just as we did with the Enclave, we will find this ‘Institute’ and their synths, and will deal with them mercilessly. There is no chance for peace. Their synths are an abomination of technology. It’s madness anyone could believe a machine should have free will and masquerade as a human being. Just as certain of the need for action was his Lancer Captain of the Prydwen, Alexander Kells, who watched closely as Proctor Quinlan rolled out a detailed map of the Commonwealth, which had been updated with information received from Paladin Danse and his Reconnaissance Squad Gladius. Proctor Ingram raised an eyebrow, sharing a surprised glance with Proctor Teagan upon seeing much of the map to be thorough. Knight Captain Cade took a moment to scan over it in awe, and Kells and Maxson both approached the map in approval, surprised yet pleased by the amount of locations already identified by the Brotherhood. The group only paused to turn towards the door when it opened, only to ease a little when they saw it only to be Karissa Maxson entering with a few files in her hands.

“I’m sorry to interrupt the meeting, but I came across some disturbing information we need to consider, regarding the Institute,” She said once she had shut and locked the door behind herself. “While in Rivet City yesterday, I crossed paths with a man I thought had long since left the Capital. A man I’m certain is a part of the Institute…and who has a synth accompanying him.”

Her husband looked up at her in horror. “Are you alright? What happened?”

“I’m perfectly fine,” Karissa said, handing the files to Proctor Quinlan. “Truthfully, I’m glad to learn we have an…opportunity to learn more about the Institute from someone who just so happened to arrogantly walk into and remain in our locale.”

“Who is this man?” Kells pressed. “What does he look like?”

“His name is Dr. Charles Zimmer,” She said dutifully. “He’s been in and out of the Capital and Rivet City in particular for about a decade now, from what I could gather from the science staff in Rivet City. He claims to be an Institute official, and I am inclined to believe he, in fact, is. He, as well, was apparently quite the nuisance to Dr. Madison Li during the war with the Enclave, before she left for the Commonwealth. According to Rivet City’s current science staff, some of whom were there when Dr. Li was, Zimmer has been in and out of the Capital with the goal of ‘retrieving’ some important ‘androids.’”

Quinlan frowned. “Androids? Is that another name they use for their synths?”

“I’m inclined to believe so, yes,” Karissa shook her head. “I had the…surprisingly fortunate if unsettling interaction with him. According to him, the ‘man’ he has as a bodyguard is no man at all but, rather, a synthetic human. He went so far as to demand I help him find a particularly valuable android of his, one he has been trying to locate for about a decade, now, alongside other so-called ‘high priority units’ he already had returned to the Commonwealth. If he’s being truthful – and from his attitude and condescension I suspect he is – then he is, in his own words, working to locate a highly advanced synth whose programming had been to retrieve other synths who escaped the Institute.”

“Is he still in Rivet City?” Teagan raised an eyebrow when she nodded. “Can you give us a general physical description of him and his ‘android’ so we can have a Knight confront him and bring both him and the ‘android’ to us for interrogation?”

“Of course,” Karissa said with a faint smile. “He’s white, balding, in his sixties, around 5’11,’’ bespectacled, well dressed in a decidedly expensive suit, and carries a distinct, ornate, modified Chinese pistol. As for the synth, it is designed to appear white, with a close shaved head, and in its thirties, as well as constructed to be around 6’3,’’ male, and otherwise blends into normal human populations with ease. However, it shadows Zimmer everywhere, and rarely goes anywhere else.”

“I’ll send a Knight to find locate them both immediately,” Kells told her. “Once we bring them back and restrain them, we’ll have you identify them before beginning interrogation.”

“Separate them once they’re in our custody,” Ingram said, and he nodded shortly. “Allowing them to remain in contact would make it incredibly difficult for us to get any information out of them.”

“I’ll inform the Knights of such immediately,” Kells said. “You are correct. If we are to get any information out of them, we will need to use any and all means at our discretion to learn as much as we can about the Institute before we arrive in the Commonwealth.”

“Absolutely,” Cade agreed. “Thank you for bringing this to our immediate attention. This is, truly, a vital development.”

“It is,” Maxson said, though he looked worriedly to his wife when she approached him, seeing a faint bruise on her neck. “’Rissa?” He said, brushing her long hair over her shoulder and taking in a sharp breath when he saw the depth of the bruise. “Did he touch you?”

Karissa winced when his fingers grazed the bruise, and sighed when she saw the fear that crossed his face when he noticed. Much to her surprise, the two of them rarely physically affectionate in public, he loosely but protectively embraced her.

“His android attempted to attack me,” She finally said. “Apparently, I got too close to Zimmer, and he decided I was dangerous, grabbing me by the neck. He only let me go when Zimmer ordered him to, and then informed me I ‘ought not underestimate’ him or lie if I came across his missing property.”

“We’ll tightly restrain them both,” Kells assured her. “You will not be in danger from them once they are in our custody, Missus Maxson.”

“Thank you for not hesitating to tell us about this,” Cade added. “Being able to interrogate a likely member of the Institute will be immensely useful to us.”

“Yes, it will be,” Quinlan said with a frown. “Though it is regrettable you had to be assaulted by them. To accomplish our goal of destroying the organisation, we need to locate the Institute’s headquarters, yes, but you should never have been put in danger, even by accident or coincidence.”

“Quite true,” Maxson said resolutely. “Interrogating and obtaining major information from them will be vital, especially considering, from the reports of Paladin Danse and his team, it seems the only logical explanation for our inability to locate the Institute thus far is they’ve gone underground. As soon as we find them and begin to implement our plan to destroy them, I expect total victory, and no excuses. Should anyone interfere with this, I’ll show them what happens to traitors. As members and leaders of the Brotherhood, it is our sworn duty to exterminate the abominations known as the synths no matter the cost.”

“Yes, it is,” Ingram said. “This is a vital campaign, one we have to prepare for quickly and aggressively. The Institute are a terrible danger to everyone.”

“They are. For now, you are all to bring the Institute official and his ‘android’ to us. Dismissed,” Maxson waited for his Proctors, Knight Captain, and Lancer Captain to leave before turning back to his wife. “I know you might not want to discuss what happened…but – I have to know – are you sure you’re alright now?”

“I am,” Karissa promised. “Or, at least, I will be. It’s only a bruise. I’ll heal quickly.”

“Alright. I won’t let them hurt you again,” Her husband sighed before lightly kissing her. “They will not get away with this, not harming you…nor creating and continuously constructing such horrific abominations of technology as their 'synths.'”

Chapter 10: Something Unlikely

Chapter Text

Vault 114
February the 22nd, 2288
15:22

To say Vault 114 was nothing like Vault 111 would be a significant understatement, not the least of which being because it was apparently unfinished.

Between Vadim, the map, and a little more information from a grudging Myrna, they had found at least the place – the Vault – Nick had most likely disappeared in. After going down into a couple of old subway stations, Nora, Cait, and Piper finally found Vault 114. Having snuck past the little bits of security, and past a few raiders scavenging the decrepit station, the three women made their way through some of the old train cars and subway tunnels, having just barely snuck into the Vault through the partially open Vault blast door. A skip in her step, Piper smiled a bit, only a few paces behind Nora and Cait, a little too proud of how she had gotten Myrna to give up the last bit of information they needed. Always uncomfortable with people being too outwardly emotional (or too outwardly emotionless, lest they be a synth), Myrna had caved when Ellie had burst into tears in front of her and Danny. For his part, somewhat wracked by guilt, Danny had coaxed Myrna into telling them about the information she had heard from multiple caravaners about old Vaults in the area of the old city of Boston. In her bag was a folded up map she had (somewhat bribed, somewhat guilted) gotten from Myrna, who had received it from a caravaner that had passed through Vault-Tec’s Regional Headquarters, knowing Nick would be excited to see it, the history of Vault-Tec and their Vaults a special interest of his.

Hearing a sudden rush of heavy footsteps, Cait grabbed Piper’s wrist with one hand and Nora’s with the other. The three of them went as still as possible, barely even breathing until they were sure they were alone again. A few seconds passed in silence, but soon they stepped out from the messy and unfinished corridors and into a shockingly large and mostly finished atrium. Slowing their footsteps upon hearing some voices at the other end of the atrium, Nora, Cait, and Piper all shared a long look before making their way up to the stairs to the second floor of the atrium as silently as possible. Her hands shaking from anticipation and her heart pounding in her chest, Nora reloaded her gun, hoping against hope they were in the right place. After going through several old subway stations only to find nothing, things had felt painfully lost. If this isn’t the place, are we ever going to find him? Or will we be too late? We can’t – Nora sighed, regaining her composure, and pulling Cait back to make sure she didn’t accidentally blow their cover. Waving her and Piper behind a set of boxes piled up high by one corner, Nora glanced over the top of the boxes, crouched as low as possible to keep an eye on the end of the corridor.

Less than three feet away from her and Cait, Piper gasped when she realised the man at the end of the corridor was wearing a large pin on his collar, a pin Nick usually wore. Fury taking over her, the twenty three year old journalist checked to make sure her gun was loaded and ready to fire. For a minute, quick and swift whispers passed between the three women before they began to inch closer together, close enough to listen in to what the man was saying but not close enough to be noticed. Holstering her shotgun, Cait cracked her knuckles and then pulled out her twin switchblades, winking at Nora when she glanced over to her, surprised to see her put away her gun. She’s something else…but why does she make me both nervous and excited? I barely even – Nora reached over and pulled Cait back just a little, a brief, shocking sensation startling her. Cait looked to her, worried, and then suddenly hugged her. Poor lass has been through f*cking hell, but she still doesn’t give up. I don’t think even I’d still be around after all the sh*te she’s faced. Nora eventually hugged her back, and closed her eyes for a moment, doing her best to focus on the voices she, Cait, and Piper could barely hear.

“…How you doing in there, Valentine?” The first voice taunted, sounding as though he were also chewing gum. “…Feeling hungry? Want a snack?”

“…Keep talking, meat head,” The second voice yelled through the doors. “It’ll give Skinny Malone more time to think about how he’s going to bump you off, and –”

“…Don’t give me that crap, Valentine,” The first voice said back. “…You know nothing, you got nothing.”

“…Really?” The second voice yelled again. “…I saw him writing your name down in that black book of his. ‘Lousy, cheating, card shark,’ I think were his exact words. Then he struck the name across three times.”

“That’s Nick!” Piper excitedly whispered to Nora and Cait, who had let each other go and were steadying for a fight. “I’d recognise his voice anywhere. That’s Nick in there, it absolutely is.”

“Then let’s get him out,” Nora said, resolution growing in her voice, body, and mind. “It’s time.”

Not taking a moment to hesitate, Nora stepped out and towards the man to whom the first voice belonged, her gun drawn. The man whipped around and drew his own gun on her, firing the second he saw her. She dodged out of the way of his frenzied attack, and Piper and Cait followed after her. Piper slid across the floor, out of the way of the bullets, and began shooting at the man as soon as he was in her sights. Cait, for her part, charged at the man, letting out an excited war whoop, knives drawn. The man startled, and, in the time it took for him to notice her, Nora managed to shoot him a couple of times in the chest, Piper got two shots on one of his legs, and Cait jumped him as if she were either feral (which she wasn’t) or high (which she was). He cursed at her, but wasn’t quick enough to defend himself before Cait slit him twice across the throat with her switchblades. He fell to the ground, and Cait grinned, wiping the blood off her knives with a smirk, while Nora and Piper stared at her in both shock and a mix of awe and concern. Seeing he had managed to shoot her in the arm in the chaos, Nora pulled off her scarf and began to tie it around the wound on Piper’s arm, which had pierced through the journalist’s long coat. She then helped her up, and, seeing there was a window, Piper approached it and tapped on the glass with her uninjured arm, grinning when her friend, the same man they had been looking for, approached.

“We’re here to rescue you!” Piper said, laughing a little. “How do we get you out of there?”

“Well, if there were a lock on my end, I’d let myself out,” Nick dryly replied. “He kept a password for the terminal in his pocket. That’ll probably let you in, but be quick about it because we got three minutes at best before they realise muscles-for-brains ain’t coming back.”

“I got it!” Cait cheered, coming over to the window and waving a piece of paper at it. “I’ll let you out now, handsome, don’t you worry!”

Nora laughed a bit too, smiling with Piper when Cait almost giddily approached the computer terminal. Humming to herself, Cait typed in the password, fussed around with the system, and, after a little bit of swearing, managed to get the system to let her in. She cheered a bit more, and then found the programme to undo the locking mechanism. Hearing the click of the door indicating it had unlocked, Cait slipped the piece of paper with the password on it into her pocket, twisted the knob ever so slightly, and kicked the door open. She stood up against it almost militantly and waved Piper and Nora into the room, dramatically bowing at them both after they went past her. Breathing a sigh of relief, happy to be able to breathe fresh air for the first time in months, Nick walked over to where Piper and Nora were standing. He rolled his eyes when Piper took off her press cap with a flourish and curtsied before setting it back on her head, before, as they always did, bumping fists and elbows. Nora couldn’t help but smile, and something about being in front of the man she was desperate to have help her find her husband and son was almost calming. She startled, though, when, after a minute, it occurred to her the man in front of her also had wires visible inside his partially exposed neck.

“What…” Nora hesitated. “I don’t mean to be rude but…what…are you?”

“I’m a detective,” Nick replied. “Although, if you’re wondering about the wires…I’m a synth. A prototype, most likely. Look, I know the skin and the metal parts ain’t comforting, but that doesn’t matter. Why’d you, Piper…and that oddly excitable lady over there risk a damn thing to find me? At the end of the day, I’m just a private eye.”

“My…my son Shaun is missing,” Nora said, her hands beginning to shake again against her will. “He and my husband were kidnapped, but I don’t know who took them, or where they went.”

“Two missing people?” Nick raised an eyebrow but then shook his head. “Well, you came to the right man, if not the right place.”

“Glad to know I didn’t waste me time on a witch hunt,” Cait remarked, joining them and wrapping one arm around Nora’s shoulders and the other around Piper’s. “Take it you’re the real deal, ain’t you?”

“I am, but I’ve also been cooped up in here for more than just a few weeks. Turns out the runaway daughter I came looking for wasn’t kidnapped at all. She’s Skinny Malone’s new flame, and she’s got a mean streak…one involving a baseball bat and my head,” Nick said wryly, looking at Piper. “Only took a few months for someone to find me, but why am I not surprised you were involved in this, Piper? Speaking of, how’d you manage to find me, anyways?”

“See, the fun answer would be to say Cait had a vision from God about where you were while high,” Piper said with a grin. “But the real answer is Vadim and I put our heads together with a little…or a lot…of help and took a few stabs at where you could be before finding you here.”

“I’ll keep that in mind. Certainly won’t be underestimating you any time soon, Piper,” Nick said, sighing when he turned to Nora. “I’m glad to help. Sounds like you need it more than most people do in the Commonwealth. A whole family gone missing…it’s rare, but every so often it happens.”

“I don’t even know where to begin…” Nora said quietly, but she managed a smile when she met his eyes. “But, thank you, Valentine. I…I truly appreciate it.”

“Just doing my job,” Nick glanced to Cait, who was twirling one of her twin switchblades in her hands. “You alright? Hope you don’t got a mean streak about you like Malone’s new flame.”

Cait snickered. “Don’t you worry,” She reassured him. “I only fight people I don’t like, and, if Piper approves, then I ain’t going to complain. What kind of lass would I be if I didn’t trust the judgement of one of me few friends?”

Piper winked. “Glad to know some of my advice has stuck.”

“I am too,” Nick said, looking between the two of them and then Nora. “They may be odd, but, as far as Piper goes, I know for sure you’ve found a good crew. Though I hope you can handle her being in and out of prison. The mayor has got it out for her, these days especially.”

“Yeah, no kidding,” Piper muttered. “We probably would have been able to find you sooner if he hadn’t thrown me back behind the damn bars. Wonder if there will ever be a day when we can stop calling the lock up in Diamond City the ‘Piper Suite.’ I sure as hell hope so.”

“Well, glad to know you’re out now,” Nick said, fatherly patting her shoulder. He turned to Nora. “As I said, whatever you need to find them, I’ll be there with you, but now ain’t the time. Let’s blow this joint, and then we can talk. Besides, I’m sure it’ll be a lot easier for you to gather your thoughts after you can have a nice meal and a drink instead of trying to get everything sorted while staying out of the way of some assholes who just want to shoot at you for target practise.”

“Let’s go, then,” Nora said, barely managing a laugh when the detective winked with a smile. “No point in waiting around for them to come for us.”

Sanctuary Hills
February the 23rd, 2288
13:18

“The Abernathy family, and the couple living in the former Oberland Station rail house have decided to join our cause,” Preston said with a smile, changing the thumb tacks on the map for the two settlements from blue to white, now three settlements – Sanctuary, Abernathy, and Oberland – allied with the Minutemen. Pride swelled in his chest as he set down his laser musket on his chair in front of the map. “I think we’re turning things around, little by little. I’m glad a few former Minutemen decided to rejoin to help out the Abernathy family and the Oberland couple.”

“You all have been doing a wonderful job,” Codsworth said cheerfully, picking up a few cans of water he had purified earlier. “These are for you,” He said, handing one to him, Sturges, and Derek. “I couldn’t be more pleased to serve such good people.”

“Happy to have you on board, Codsworth,” Sturges said, slowly starting on his water. “As Preston would say, you can’t have too many friends out here, especially with all the raiders and gunners running around lately.”

“It’s hard to tell what’s more concerning,” Derek said, shaking his head. “Raiders have always been a nuisance, you’ll always find violently selfish people. But the gunners…they’re something of an unknown. Yes, they’re mercenaries, and they’re well organised, but it’s just about impossible to know if they’re going to threaten those we’re protecting until it’s on the verge of happening.”

“Something about the gunners does worry me, too,” Preston admitted. “They weren’t so common around here just five years ago, but they’ve been growing more and more common every other day, it seems. Wish we knew where they were coming from, but, even if we did, I don’t think we could win in a fight against them.”

“I heard some gunners are reprogramming some of those pre-War hell robots,” Sturges said with a frown. “I know the gunners we faced in Quincy were bad, but they didn’t even have these. From what I’ve heard, those old, pre-War robots called ‘assaultrons’ are being reprogrammed by gunners to help do their dirty work.”

“Oh my, that’s not good,” Codsworth said worriedly. “Should we shore up our defences here?”

“The Minutemen we’ve got working with the Abernathy family and at Oberland are helping increase their defencive capabilities,” Preston said, pausing to take a sip of water. “It probably isn’t a bad idea to increase some of our defences here, although I think the turrets Sturges has made and rigged up recently are good.”

“They’ve done a damn good, reliable job so far,” Sturges agreed. “I’ll work on a few extras, just in case. Never know if those assholes are going to come for us.”

“After Quincy, we can’t be too careful,” Preston said, glancing down at his hands pressing against the table. “I’ve been worried ever since about things going to hell, and I really hope it’s just a residual, bad feeling. Getting as many folks here as possible was hard enough…and I don’t want what went down in Quincy to happen again.”

“Things are getting better,” Sturges reassured him, patting his back. “In no small part because you’ve been working your ass off, Preston! It’s been rough, I know, but you should be damn proud of what you’ve accomplished. It’s because of you the Minutemen are still around, and standing strong.”

“He’s right,” Derek said, setting down his water to briefly take off and brush the dirt and dust off his glasses. "Even though none of us expected things to happen the way they did, you stepped up to lead, and have been tirelessly dedicated to bringing the Minutemen back from the brink. You’ve done everything to keep people safe, and you finally got as many here from Quincy as you could. The massacre at Quincy is on the hands of the gunners, not you.”

“Quite right,” Codsworth observed. “I know you are proud of what you have accomplished in helping to bring people together, but you should be just as proud of all you’ve done to be able to even begin to help families and farms come together to protect each other. Anyone who is capable of doing what you have should be recognised for it, and you have more than earnt my respect, Preston.”

He smiled. “Thanks, Codsworth. I hope you know your words mean a lot to me.”

“I’m happy to hear it!” Codsworth chirped. “I know you all may be weary of me saying so, but I am so incredibly proud and happy to know you have become friends of Miss Nora. I couldn’t have wished for better people to be in her life after everything she’s been through.”

“Nora’s a real badass,” Sturges said, dusting off his hands. “I’m real damn impressed whenever I see the woman with a gun. She may have been born before the War, but she’s got the spirit to survive out here, must have always had it. Some people are just built different, can adapt at the blink of an eye if need be.”

“She is,” Derek agreed with a laugh. “Surprised me, surprised Hads even more. Maybe my wife is more risk averse than average, but every time she and Nora have talked about guns, it’s stunned her how much she knows.”

“Miss Nora and her husband used to love hunting and hiking,” Codsworth remarked. “They had been looking forward to teaching young Shaun how to do so and join them when he got older. I hope they’ll find each other again soon, make up for the lost time. It may not be quite the same, but I imagine they can still pass their love for those things on to their son!”

“I’m sure they will,” Derek said. “In fairness to Hads, she grew up incredibly sheltered, and with money. Her parents – despite the amount of Nuka Cola they drink – are health nuts, and have never let their kids eat meat. To this day, Hads never has, and neither have our kids. Truthfully, I couldn’t be more relieved they’ve been able to have such a stable and sheltered life…and I’m happy I’m a part of it.”

“You remind me so much of Mister Nate,” Codsworth happily said. “Missus Hadley may be very different from Miss Nora, but you and Mister Nate seem so similar. You both have even served in the military, if I remember what Preston said correctly.”

“The Brotherhood is the closest thing to the US military since the War,” Derek said with a heavy sigh. “I wish things hadn’t gone the way they went with them, but what’s done is done. They’ve gone one way, and I’ve gone another. I only wish they hadn’t lost their way after defeating the Enclave. It’s a goddamn shame, and hard to remember, especially knowing some of them are now in the Commonwealth.”

“I’ve heard they’re just scouting around,” Sturges said, cracking his knuckles. “For what, I ain’t sure, but I don’t think they’re going to bother us. Definitely more worried about them gunners and raiders,” He turned to Preston. “You don’t think any of them are operating out of the Combat Zone, do you?”

Preston turned to him in surprise. “The Combat Zone? It’s still operating?”

Derek grimly nodded. “Unfortunately, yes. I guess, for some people, if it makes money, then it doesn’t matter who gets hurt – figuratively and literally.”

“It’s barbaric,” Preston said, pausing in horror. “I heard a rumour, a few weeks back, about a young woman who’s abused by the Combat Zone bosses. What are the odds it’s true?”

“Unfortunately high,” Derek and Sturges said almost simultaneously.

“I don’t know the details of the situation, because she won’t talk about it, but there’s a young woman who works there as a fighter,” Derek said. “She’s friends with one of my kids, but I don’t know if she’s there regularly of her own volition or not. Either way, I think we’re all just as if not more concerned by her addictions.”

“Someone’s always getting trafficked through there,” Sturges said in disgust. “Whoever the son of a bitch who’s operating it is must have a stone heart.”

Preston sighed, reaching for his laser musket.

“Can the two of you hold down Sanctuary for me, before we start reaching out to more settlements?”

“Absolutely,” Sturges assured him. “Why? You going down there?”

“If I’m going to be a leader of the Minutemen, I need to be able to help people at a minute’s notice,” Preston replied, slinging his bag and his musket over his shoulders. “And, if there’s a chance an innocent person is being abused in such a barbaric machine, I’m not going to let them suffer. I’m going to do everything I can to try and help…because who will if not us?”

“Shall I accompany you?” Codsworth asked, already beginning to prepare supplies for Preston to take with. “Or will you be alright on your own?”

“I’ll be alright on my own,” Preston assured him. “But thanks, Codsworth. I know you and the rest of the Minutemen will take care of everyone here. They need it…and I need to make this journey on my own.”

The Commonwealth
February the 24th, 2288
19:29

For Deacon, the moment of levity provided by seeing the already pretty, small, dainty Annette Davis in a nearly skin tight Vault suit and a Pip-Boy on her wrist had been almost enough to ascend him to heaven.

Remembering what they were doing and why did away with the feeling far too quick for comfort.

Slowly wading down to and then into the door through an old sewer pipe, Deacon, Dan, and Annette all took one last look back to ensure they were not being followed, particularly by Janet Haylen or Laurent Rhys. They’re too calculated. Annette’s warning the day before still lingered in both Deacon and Dan’s ears. She had been serious, and both she and Deacon had agreed, when he showed her and Dan their holotags signifying them as members of the Brotherhood Of Steel, they could not be trusted for such a delicate operation. The Brotherhood are good at one thing – winning wars. They are no diplomats, certainly not then, and I sincerely doubt now. They'll do whatever it takes to get their way...whether it's by force or taking advantage of you. I lost two years of my life to them...and running back to the Vault after the war with the Enclave...it still didn't seem far enough. Nothing is ever far enough from the Brotherhood. Glancing back over her shoulders, her gun holstered on her leg and a case of ammunition, caps, and medical supplies in her bag, Annette walked forward, ‘Brian’ and Dan just behind her. No way in hell Brian is his real name. No one who has hair that long and that blonde goes by Brian. The temporary amusem*nt at her own question around the name of Dan’s companion vanished when she heard the voices up ahead. Rolling her shoulders back, and seeing the two men behind her hide their weapons, she stepped into the open where guards were waiting for them to arrive.

“Mayor wasn’t kidding,” One of the guards said, staring at Annette. “You’re the real deal.”

“Yeah,” Another guard said, his eyes falling on her chest. “It suits you.”

Annette frowned. “Your mayor said I can speak with the woman who formed your town’s current operations? The woman who is, supposedly, originally from the same Vault I grew up in?”

“Follow me,” The first guard said, warily looking at Deacon and Dan. “Forgot you were bringing backup.”

“I don’t travel alone,” Annette said curtly. “Life has more than once proved to me travelling alone is something you should only do if there’s no other option.”

The guard grunted in agreement, casting one last suspicious look at Dan and Deacon before waiting for them and Annette to follow after them. The other two guards left behind stared coldly at the two men, even more so when Deacon, sure neither Annette or Dan were looking at him, turned around to childishly stick his tongue out at the two guards and flip them off before following primly after his two other companions. Walking through the tunnels, a disquieting feeling began to fill his body as Dan looked between the guard, Annette, and Deacon. Something about the way their footsteps echoed, and the red service tunnel lights occasionally flickered, made everything feel wrong. Passing a few rooms with closed doors, he took in a sharp breath, catching the briefest glimpse of prison cells that had been built into the pre-War infrastructure. I hate this place even more than the damn town. Seems I was right. They really are torturing people. Sick f*cking bastards, all of them. After turning a few corners, going up a few flights of stairs, and then through a door and down a long corridor, they stepped into a large room, where an older woman with steel grey hair wearing welding goggles and a lab coat was waiting for them, arms crossed.

“Will wonders ever cease?” The woman said, raising her welding goggles up to rest on her forehead, eyes widening when she looked at Annette. “James’ girl? You’ve certainly grown up.”

“Don’t patronise me,” Annette snapped. “I want answers, Rosyln, and I want them without any bullsh*t.”

The woman named Rosyln raised an eyebrow. “You’ve certainly lost your sensibilities over the years. What a shame. I recall you tested very high as an intelligent and charismatic person on your GOAT. Alphonse put you on the fast track for medical training in the Vault because of it.”

“Yes, and then he decided to try and kill my father,” Annette said bitterly. “He would have killed Amata, too, if she had gotten in his way. He was a monster, at least by the end, and I’m glad he’s dead. At least, once you’re six feet under, you can’t hurt anyone else.”

“You’re dismissed, Franklin, go and head back to your duties,” Rosyln said, waving the guard off. She beckoned Annette closer, losing sight of Deacon and Dan, having barely noticed they were there in the first place. “I knew you were your father’s daughter from the start. Granted, I never knew your mother, and James was never keen to talk about her. Was she the scientist you said you met in Rivet City, by chance?”

Annette shook her head. “If you’re talking about Dr. Li, then, no, Madison is only a close family friend. She and my dad worked closely together, for years, alongside my mother, who died...why does it matter to you? Are you simply trying to divert me from what I really want to know?”

Roslyn frowned. “Speak, if you must, Annie. I’ll answer whatever questions you have. I owe your father a great deal. I heard, before I left the Capital, of his passing. Such a loss.”

“Don’t call me Annie. And, yes, it was. He also trusted you greatly, as one of his best medical technicians and assistants,” Annette said, crossing her arms. “Allow me to finish first, but, afterwards, do correct me if I’m wrong. From what I’ve gathered, several people, yourself included, left Vault 101 following the Enclave’s defeat. Upon Amata, as Overseer, opening up the Vault to the rest of the Capital Wasteland around the same time as the Enclave's defeat, you came to the Commonwealth. I don’t know your purpose for leaving, and I don’t care. We all have our reasons. I certainly have mine.”

“Yes, girl, we do all have reasons for leaving,” Rosyln said sharply, briefly glancing behind her. Seeing nothing, she turned back towards Annette. Deacon and Dan breathed a sigh of relief and approached a cell where a young girl was shaking badly and locked up. “I assume you haven’t said all you intend to, so, please, don’t keep me waiting. I do important work here.”

Annette scoffed. “Because torturing and killing people is ‘important work,’ I see how it is. But I’m not there yet. After you arrived in the Commonwealth and joined a small settlement attempting to bring life back to some sense of pre-War normalcy, you learnt of the Institute. And synths. I don’t know your reasons, and I suspect I don’t want to, but, from what I can tell, you took the GOAT Test we all had to take in Vault 101 and adapted it into this so-called SAFE Test in an attempt to see on a whim if people were synths and, if they could be, take them off and torture and kill them.”

“Just as you and your father were not born in Vault 101, nor was I,” Rosyln said coldly. “My parents were killed by an Institute synth in 2229, when I was only ten. My aunt took me to the Capital Wasteland in hopes to find a safer life for me there, and made contact with the Vault who let us in out of pity. Coming back here was inevitable. I cannot live my life without avenging my parents and all of the people the Institute have killed over the years. Did you not know about their misdeeds? Or are you simply assuming they've done none?”

“I have no doubt the Institute have made their share of mistakes,” Annette said acidly. “What I doubt are your intentions as to why you would use a damned test to assign teenagers jobs to attempt to identify people as synths.”

“You took vengeance on the Enclave,” Rosyln reminded her. “I know what you would do if your family were destroyed by a synth, right in front of you, when you were but a child because I know what you did when your father was murdered by the Enclave, right in front of you. Say what you will about your hatred for the Brotherhood and all the time you spent as an indentured servant in their Citadel. At the end of the day, you took their side, and you were more than happy to help destroy the Enclave.”

“Annie, we need to –” Madison had grabbed her, panicking. “It’s –”

“We can’t leave him!” Annette had shaken, tears starting to silently stream down her face. “Not –”

“Annie, this isn't the –” Madison had gasped, she and Annette turning around in horror when an Enclave leader shot one of her assistants, then approaching James.

“Am I to assume you are the one in charge?” He had sneered, grabbing James’ face and pointing a gun to his head when he nodded. “Well, tell me – do you believe in God?”

James had looked up at him and sighed. “Yes.”

"Then go be with him."

A gunshot had rung out. Neither of them were sure who screamed louder. Madison had suddenly grabbed Annette by the arm and the two of them had run, all they could carry in their arms, and they ran. Ran until they were out of breath, ran until they arrived where they had started running to despite never having thought much of it before. Madison had handed off what she had been carrying to Annette, before storming up to the gates, almost painfully hitting at them.

“Lyons! I know you're in there! I know you can hear me!” Madison had shouted with anger Annette had never thought possible from the otherwise composed and reserved woman. “You open this goddamn door right now!”

“The Enclave weren’t using innocent beings as their f*cking playthings and saying it was for the sake of helping the people around them. They f*cked with people for the fun of it, destroyed lives just because they could,” Annette finally said, holding herself, shaking badly. “I don’t care if synths are created by the Institute. If you can’t tell one apart from a person, and they have free will, then they deserve to live a safe life.”

“Can’t you see, Annie?” Rosyln angrily said, approaching her with her voice raised so loud it covered up the sounds of the cell door creaking and Deacon and Dan rushing the young girl out. Annette only briefly glanced at them as they snuck out with her. Get Amelia home safe. That’s what matters. “Everything we have done has been to stop the suffering of more innocents!” Rosyln had gone on, toe to toe with Annette. “Suffering at the hands of the Institute and their synth menace! Yes, a living synth is indistinguishable from a human by any medical test yet devised. But the answer may lay in psychology, hence our revisions of the GOAT. Before you begin to lecture me, yes. We most certainly do want to kill all synths, but we have to find them first.”

“You’re no doctor, not anymore, not like this,” Annette said, her voice wavering in rage, her hands reaching for something solid to hold onto, absentmindedly falling to her gun. “Torture is not science. You don’t deserve to be called Dr. Rosyln Chambers. Not like this, and not –”

Rosyln suddenly pulled out her own pistol, having glimpsed Annette’s hands falling, and grabbed her by the arm, attempting to shoot her. Annette barely wrenched out of her grasp, and pulled her own gun out, hands shaking. She closed her eyes, and pulled the trigger. Once. Twice. Thrice. Then, there was nothing until something hit the floor. When she opened her eyes, she saw Rosyln had fallen to the floor, dead. Falling to her knees, she didn’t even notice Deacon coming back into the room, having successfully and quickly snuck Dan and Amelia out. Annette dropped her gun, and fell forward, beginning to sob.

“What have I done?” She whimpered, breaking down when Deacon came over to see if she were alright. “I’m no better than her…I…I can’t be. I…I f*cking killed her.”

The Institute
February the 25th, 2288
12:33

Of all the mischief Quentin Filmore and Jacqueline Spencer found themselves in, spying on members of the Directorate was one of their favourites. When more than one of them were together, and with Father and Mister Nate, their curiosity was even more piqued.

Having once again stolen one of Dr. Holdren’s synth bees and affixed to it a small, hidden camera and microphone, Jacq and Quentin had connected them to wireless earbuds and a small tablet. When they managed to fly the bee to sit on a small plant in the Directorate’s meeting room, they shared an excited grin when they saw Dr. Li step into the room where Father, Mister Nate, and Dr. Binet were waiting. So clearly in no mood for much conversation, and more than likely annoyed at being drawn away from her work, Dr. Li pushed the button to shut and lock the doors behind her after swiping her ID card and waited for one of them to say something. Dr. Binet, on the other hand, was much more enthusiastic, and ready to discuss whatever it was they had been both called in for. Most likely synth Shaun. He’s adorable, and also the only thing I think Dr. Li and Dr. Binet jointly work on. She rarely has anything to do with synths. Hopping up onto the couch, the adoptive siblings stared closely at the tablet, and pressed the earbuds farther into their ears, hungry in anticipation for one of the four of them to say something interesting beyond the usual (and, for Dr. Li, apparently uncomfortable) pleasantries.

“How’s work coming along with the child synth project?” Nate finally said once the four of them sat down together at the table. “I haven’t gotten the chance to stop by and see him recently.”

“Trial Six is going well,” Dr. Li said with a faint frown. “The last week alone has been incredibly productive, but my staff and, frankly, myself are exhausted and need a break. We would, in particular, prefer to circle back to Phase Three work, considering how necessary Phase Three is to the Institute collectively and Advanced Systems specifically.”

“You have done marvellous work,” Dr. Binet said with an easy smile. “S9-23 is quite the feat.”

“Yes, well...” Dr. Li said. “I can’t contest the work you’ve done with the personality mesh. It’s marvellous, and is absolutely some of the most lifelike I’ve seen.”

Father nodded. “How has that impacted the responses to emotional and physical stimuli?”

“They map almost identically to expectations,” Dr. Li replied. “Which, I should note, is having an effect on the team. It can be uncomfortable to work with S9-23. He’s not really you, of course, and none of your memories are in there. That, even now, would be a step too far, and the exhaustion the project has put on the team already would only be worsened if we went that route.”

“The Institute hasn’t attempted any work with memories since our prototype Gen 2 project,” Father assured her. “We won’t be attempting anything along those lines in any imminent work on S9-23.”

“Good,” Dr. Li said, handing him a thin file from across the table. “These are this week’s notes. It’s mentioned in there, but I think we need to seriously consider restricting him to the lab, if only for the moment. I’m well aware that others are…put off by his presence, and there’s no reason to risk interrupting other work by having him roam freely around the Institute, even putting aside the serious concern that he could get lost given just how massive the Institute is.”

“I’ll approve that in writing soon, then,” Father said, and Dr. Li faintly nodded. “The work you’ve done since he came back from living in Diamond City with Kellogg last year has been remarkable.”

“Speaking of Kellogg,” Mister Nate added. “I assume you both have received the update we sent to the Directorate?”

“Yes, we have, thank you for the clarification,” Dr. Binet said. “We appreciate knowing you aren’t unnecessarily keeping him out and a security risk for no reason.”

“We should have communicated more clearly on the matter,” Mister Nate shook his head. “Unfortunately, the situation emerged suddenly, and the decision was made so quickly we forgot to have it notated. Regardless, I concede we should have told the Directorate the purpose of sending him out at the time or, at the very least, the SRB since our Coursers have been his primary contacts for updates to his work and what we expect of him in the field. As you now well know, this job we have him on at the moment is incredibly important, and we should have made that clear.”

“Dr. Virgil’s research being stolen by a runaway synth is absolutely important,” Dr. Binet agreed. “It’s a shame what happened to him. We were within a few months of shutting down the FEV Programme, and I expected him to be quite valuable in some of the joint projects between Bioscience and Robotics. If only he had lived to be able to shift focus to the Synth Zoological Initiative, or other research of his own.”

“What happened to Dr. Virgil was awful,” Dr. Li said, her voice a bit sharpish. “And his research was incredibly complex. A runaway synth having it could spell disaster if it got into the wrong hands. Nothing good can from this if the synth isn’t found and the research recovered.”

“Hence Kellogg’s presence in the field right now,” Father said, a sympathetic note entering his voice. “I understand Dr. Virgil’s death has been hard on you personally these last two years since his passing, considering the two of you were close friends. I want you to know we are taking this matter seriously, just as seriously as we took his death investigation.”

“I appreciate it,” Dr. Li said, hesitating briefly. “It was incredibly unusual, for something to go so wrong down here. What happened to him was something I’d expect to happen on the surface. I’d seen laboratory accidents claim far too many brilliant minds during my time in Rivet City, including when I was a child, but in the near decade I’ve been here, I had never heard of anything at all similar ever happening. So, you can understand, why it was such a shock and why I was upset by it both as a professional and as a friend.”

“Completely understandable,” Mister Nate said before turning to Dr. Binet. “I’m curious – have any of the observations you’ve made with S9-23 influenced your research for your presentation in a few months?”

“It has, though why spoil the fun?” Dr. Binet said with a slight laugh. “My days are spent prying open closed minds one at a time, but it has been crucially interesting to examine the observations and data on S9-23’s emotions, responses, and brain scans alongside the ones I have from decades of adjustments and research on our Coursers and regular third generation synths. If I may, I should like the opportunity to observe S9-23 when he is asleep. As I’ve observed so many of our other third generation synths experiencing REM sleep, I believe it’s possible a child synth could, too, experience the same.”

Dr. Li eyed him strangely. “Are you serious? You can’t possibly still be going on about whether or not synths dream, let alone what they dream about. What purpose does that line of research serve?”

“The advancement of our understanding of the synths!” Dr. Binet eagerly replied. “If a synth can dream, why can’t it have a soul? And if a synth has a soul, then it is a living person by every standard we can measure, is it not?”

Dr. Li sighed. “As I’ve heard Dr. Loken say to you plenty of times, if you disapprove of the work we do here, you know where to find the teleporter.”

“I never said that,” Dr. Binet said coldly. “I’m simply trying to open everyone’s eyes to new possibilities. Why not explore all avenues? If we ignore some possibilities just because we don’t think they’re as interesting, then we aren’t very good scientists, now are we?”

“Your research is somewhat…unusual but nonetheless worthwhile,” Father said. “If anything, it has allowed us to better understand the psychological side of the programme. Previously, it has been completely unexplored. I wonder if progress we’ve made with synths today would have come along quicker had we considered that. Perhaps we could have bypassed the second generation synths all together.”

“What are they talking about?” Quentin elbowed Jacq, pulling out his earbuds and turning the tablet down. “How could synths even dream? That’s weird. They aren’t people.”

“I’ve always been confused by synths,” Jacq said, taking out her earbuds too. “What they are, why they are, etc. I’m kind of curious about him writing a paper and presentation for it. I’d love to be there for it.”

Quentin grinned. “Get another bee for when it happens, I’m sure Dr. Li will mention it! Want to?”

Jacq nodded, smiling too. “Heck yeah I do! And don’t worry,” She teased. “I’ll include you too, baby brother.”

Goodneighbour
February the 27th, 2288
20:27

“Thanks for getting the intel on Bobbi,” Hanco*ck said, handing MacCready a bag of caps and a bag of ammunition. “I’m sure dealing with being on the inside of her operation wasn’t fun. Considering she tried to kill you and all.”

MacCready shrugged. “I’m just glad it’s over. It is over, isn’t it?”

“It is,” Hanco*ck quickly reassured him. “I have more than I need. I’m not going to torture you. I wouldn’t have told Fahrenheit not to send you back after you gave her the information if it weren't over. She likes to toy with people, but, don’t worry, I won’t play around with you. I want to keep you around, after all!”

“Hope keeping me around involves paying me,” MacCready said dryly. “Or, at least, involves me getting drinks.”

Fahrenheit rolled her eyes. “Humour me – how old were you when you started drinking?”

“About seven,” MacCready laughed when she narrowed her eyes. “I was mayor of a town of nothing but kids from babies to fifteen. Come to think of it, I started drinking shortly before I became mayor.”

Hanco*ck clapped. “Good man!” He cheered. “What was the town?”

“You’ve probably never been there, it’s in the Capital Wasteland,” MacCready told him. “It’s called Little Lamplight. We even had a basketball court we put together. We had a pretty good hoop setup there…until Eclair broke the darn thing.”

“Funny name, Eclair,” Fahrenheit remarked. “Thought that was the name of a pastry.”

MacCready smirked. “And I thought ‘Fahrenheit’ was just the name of how we tell temperature…or that stupid pre-War book.”

“Feeling bold, are we?” Fahrenheit rolled her eyes. “Alright, Little Bird. Let’s just say I chose the name as something of a threat. My behaviour towards anyone is on a scale of degree. The lower you sit, the more indifferent I am to you. If you’re in the middle, you’re in the right place. And if you’re up high…I’ll have my guns ready. Particularly this new beauty I’ve been working on.”

MacCready and Hanco*ck both took a step back when she pulled a large minigun out and slammed it down onto the table.

“I call it the ‘Ash-Maker,’” Fahrenheit purred, looking proudly at the minigun. “I tested it on a few super mutants the other day. It was good fun.”

Hanco*ck reached for and lit a cigarette. “I want to see that thing in action,” He eventually said. “You’re a formidable weaponsmith. Didn’t you design a few things for Kill Or Be Killed the last few months?”

“I have,” Fahrenheit said with a wink. “Kleo happens to give me specific instructions for…weapons she would like to see and sell exclusively in Goodneighbour. I get a serious commission from it. I’m rather pleased with the arrangement. And all of my arrangements in this town. As for what we have him here for,” She glanced to MacCready. “I always thought No Nose had more brains than this. Guess not. At least we have you to get the edge on her. And people like her.”

“Although we aren’t going to have you do anything like that again anytime soon,” Hanco*ck assured him, fatherly patting MacCready on the back. “I’m glad I had you work the case. You did a damn good job. I don’t think most people could have found out all the sh*t you have on her in nearly as quick a turnaround as you did.”

“I’m looking forward to playing with Bobbi,” Fahrenheit said, her fingers playfully dancing over her minigun. “She’s never going to even know what hit her. No-Nose isn’t going to know what to do when she realises we knew what she was up to all along.”

“Not quite all along,” MacCready said dryly. “Wouldn’t have needed me if you had it all tied up and jotted down at the start.”

“Hell yeah!” Hanco*ck agreed, elbowing him excitedly. “You’re a valuable asset, MacCready. I couldn’t do all this sh*t myself. I mean, how can I know about everything that happens in my territory if I’m just doing it myself? I don’t like getting up before noon. There aren’t enough hours in the day…at least waking hours.”

MacCready eyed him strangely. “What do you do to sleep until noon? I can barely get myself to sleep more than five hours at a time…and only when it’s dark out.”

“I like to test out new chems at night,” Hanco*ck replied, taking a long draw on his cigarette. “You haven’t lived until you’ve taken some daytripper and psycho at the same time at three in the morning.”

MacCready grimaced. “I’d rather not. I don’t know how you do any of those without kicking it.”

“When you wake up a ghoul and mayor of a town after some trips, you learn it has its charms,” Hanco*ck said, hopping up onto the back of one of the couches. “Those didn’t happen at the same time. Just had a common denominator.”

“Well, at least you’ve stopped taking combinations where I have to babysit you after,” Fahrenheit said, sending Hanco*ck a pointed look. “I have no desire to ever see anyone act as…oddly as you did after taking x-cell, orange mentats, and daytripper again. I’m not sure what was worse – how you were on all of those chems or how you were after.”

“Sobriety is a suggestion,” Hanco*ck said, taking another draw on his cigarette and waving his free hand dismissively. “What the hell’s the point of life if you aren’t having fun?”

“You could just have a beer or a cig every so often,” MacCready said with a shrug. “That’s what I do. Craziest thing I ever drink these days is Bobrov’s Best Moonshine. Every so often I ask Vadim if he’s still killing people with his moonshine. Answer is always the same – no one dies from fun.”

“Vadim knows how to live,” Hanco*ck said, laughing. “I need to go down to Diamond City to see the guy more often…and intimidate my sh*t head brother.”

“This a lead up to you asking me to do work in Diamond City?” MacCready said, grimacing when Hanco*ck shook his head. “Should I be scared about whatever it is you’re going to throw at me now you’ve got what you need about Bobbi?”

“Nah, you don’t have to worry,” Hanco*ck reassured him. “Look, you’re good to go, Little Bird. Like I said, I’m glad I had you work the case, and you’re a valuable asset. For now, you’re fine. I know where to find you if I need something done.”

“You mean in the back room at the Third Rail?” MacCready let out a sigh of relief when Hanco*ck nodded. “We need to talk about that, actually.”

“Something wrong?” Hanco*ck said, stubbing out his cigarette. “Charlie isn’t heckling you, is he?”

“Nothing like that, the bar and the regulars are fine,” MacCready said, jamming his hands into his pockets. “Honestly, lots of the people you don’t usually see in there are fine too. It’s these two guys, gunners. Winlock and Barnes. They keep driving off customers, and make it real difficult to get things done.”

“They’ve been causing trouble for a lot of other people around Goodneighbour, too,” Hanco*ck shook his head. “I’ll deal with them. They’re a serious pain in the ass for this town. Gunners are in general, but those two are especially bad. Had to stop them from robbing Daisy the other day.”

“They tried to rob Daisy?” MacCready said, his voice darkening. “What’s wrong with them? Why would anyone try to rob her? She’s a good person, one of the best.”

“She is,” Hanco*ck agreed. “Which is part of why I’m so angry those assholes are around this town at all. First time someone steps through the gate, they’re a guest. Second time they step through the gate, they’re either friends, regulars, or enemies. Those guys? They’re enemies. I just don’t like doing any dictatorial sh*t. I’ll leave that to my brother,” He turned to Fahrenheit. “Has my monthly list of grievances against how he treats people in Diamond City been sent yet?”

“No, because the month isn’t quite over,” Fahrenheit said, pulling out a knife and beginning to sharpen it. “Let the month finish, Hanco*ck. I get the feeling you’re going to find something else to throw at him.”

“If you want, I can take it over there,” MacCready said. “I’ll even do it for free. I wouldn’t mind an excuse to see what’s happening over there.”

“Maybe,” Hanco*ck said, picking up a bottle of bourbon. “But I want to give you a break. You really need one. Take time to relax, MacCready, live a little. Just don’t do anything I wouldn’t do.”

“There’s not much you wouldn’t try at least once,” Fahrenheit said, eyeing him closely. “I’ve seen you mix around and try God knows how many chems or forms of alcohol. You’re underestimating how much more restrained he is, especially compared to you.”

“He ain’t a square,” Hanco*ck said, popping off the cap and wrapping an arm over MacCready’s shoulders. “This man used to run with the gunners and has left them! He’s a good kid. And he also has a good kid.”

“I’m just trying to be a good person, and a good parent,” MacCready said, pushing the bottle away when Hanco*ck offered it to him. “Speaking of which, it’s getting late. I need to make sure he’s feeling alright and getting good sleep.”

“Say hi to Duncan for me,” Hanco*ck said, letting go of him before waving at him. “Tell him I’ve got a present in mind for his birthday in June. I think he’s really going to like it.”

MacCready managed a small smile. “Thanks, Hanco*ck. I’ll just have to check that present to make sure it ain’t anything too weird or dangerous for a kid first.”

Chapter 11: Something Taken

Chapter Text

Diamond City
March the 1st, 2288
13:14

“Hopefully you’ve rested up well. Seemed you really needed it.”

Nick Valentine stood up when he heard the windchimes on the door into his office ring out, offering Nora a smile when he saw it was she who had entered, alongside Piper and Lisanna. Nora managed a small smile back, and sat down across from his desk after a moment of hesitation. Turning around from where she had been organising closed and current case files, Ellie waved happily to Piper, who winked before walking over to stand on one side of Nora, her wife on the other. Lisanna was almost absentmindedly looking around, every so often pushing her glasses back up and her bangs out of her face. The office was (unsurprisingly) quiet and (surprisingly) impeccably organised, months with no ability to run cases having left the detective’s secretary with little to keep her mind away from worrying other than organising over and over and over. Anything to keep the hands moving. Things having been so draining in the aftermath of returning from the Vault with the curious and elusive missing detective, Nora anxiously waited for Nick to return to his desk, apparently rummaging around for something. Soon enough, he found what he was looking for, and sat down at his desk. He set down the notebook he had retrieved before pulling out a pen, briefly testing its ink flow, and writing down the case number and type. Almost transfixed, Nora closely watched the way the detective wrote, surprised by his near calligraphic cursive. When he seemed to have finished writing, he looked up, meeting Nora’s curious gaze.

“I know it’s been hard on you, would be for anyone,” Nick said, holding his pen, ready to write. “If you’re feeling well enough to talk about things, I’m ready. Last thing I want is to put you through more pain than you’re already facing.”

“Thanks, Nick,” Nora said, pausing for a few seconds. I’m ready. I’m ready to do this. I can. I can talk about what happened. I have to. “I appreciate it, but I’m alright.”

“Alright, then. I hate to say it, but, when you’re trying to find someone who’s gone missing, the devil is in the details” Nick nodded, glancing at her worriedly as he spoke. “Tell me everything you can, no matter how…painful it might be.”

“We’re…looking for my husband, Nate, and my son, Shaun,” Nora said, her voice briefly wavering. “My son, Shaun, is less than a year old, though his first birthday is coming up in July, July ninth. Why would anyone take them, but especially Shaun?”

“A good question. Why your family in particular, and why only the father and an infant?” Nick’s brow furrowed in thought. “Even if they didn’t separate them, a baby needs a lot of care, even with one of their parents. What else can you tell me?”

Nora swallowed hard. “There was a man, a woman, and a few others. I couldn’t tell much about them, and none of them said much…but I remember the man…he called me ‘the backup.’”

“’The backup?’’ Nick blinked, surprised. “Not sure what that means, but it sounds like we’re talking a small team, professionals, the kind who know to keep their lips tight when they’re on the job. Where did this happen?”

“In the Vault,” Nora said, a hint of bitterness entering her voice. “Vault 111. It was some kind of cryogenics facility. Vault-Tec…they used us as test subjects. I think...well, maybe everyone else was released when my husband and son were kidnapped, but it didn’t release me then, and only released me this last October, as an error. The systems didn’t say when everyone else had been released but…but it couldn’t have been too far apart. I still don’t understand…why did they do this? Why would Vault-Tec do this, and why would anyone take my husband and son?”

“I can’t speak to Vault-Tec’s motivations, but I agree they must have been released shortly before you. After over two centuries, you’re right. Vault-Tec’s systems must have malfunctioned to not release you with everyone else,” Nick shook his head. “The most important thing, though, is not only the fact you were on ice, but the fact you were, also, underground. Sealed up. And that’s a lot of obstacles to get through just to take two people, even if you leave everyone else to fend for themselves. Hopefully everyone else were alright when they got out and to the surface. I doubt the people who kidnapped your husband and son were particularly interested in helping everyone else in the Vault.”

“No, they weren’t,” Nora said, biting back some of the anger rising to the forefront of her thoughts. “And it’s just another piece of the horrific puzzle the War, Vault-Tec, and whomever the hell the people who took Nate and Shaun were left behind.”

“It is, but it’s also just about proof this isn’t a random kidnapping,” Nick said, finishing up writing down several long notes. “Whomever it was took your husband and kid had an agenda. Is there anything else you remember? Maybe what they were wearing, or how they spoke?”

“I do,” Nora said, pausing, briefly, in thought. “The woman and most of the others were dressed in what I think was a kind of hazard suit. The man, though, had…some sort of metal brace on his arm.”

“The latter could be some kind of improvised armour. Lot of hired guns do that to look tough,” Nick paused to make a few more notes. “The hazard suits, though…that’s interesting. Not many mercs can afford something that fancy. Did anything else stand out to you?”

“A couple of things. One of them – the man – came right up to me from where I was, still trapped in the cryostasis pod. Bald head, scar across his left eye,” Nora took a breath to calm herself. “But what I’ll never forget was his voice. Low and rough. Like sandpaper across your face. He –"

“Wait,” Nick suddenly looked up at her in surprise. “You didn’t hear the name Kellogg at all, did you?”

“I think so,” Nora flinched. “But I’m not entirely sure I didn’t imagine it. Everything…it’s fuzzy.”

“Understandable. That said, it seems way too big of a coincidence…” He turned around to where his secretary was humming to herself. “Ellie, what notes do we have about the Kellogg case?”

“Just a second,” She said, quickly flipping through a few of the file cabinets before pulling out a thick file, opening it almost the second it was in her hands. “At a glance, the description matches. Bald head, scar, reputation for dangerous mercenary work, and never being above violence. He’s notorious for the amount of people he’s not only scared into submission but killed over the years. Catch is, no one knows who his employer is.”

“Didn’t he used to live near here?” Lissy said, shuddering a bit. “I vaguely remember him. He said some pretty disgusting things to my mom. If she were anyone else, he would have probably gotten his dick ripped off for it. He should be grateful she doesn’t like violence of any kind, not unless there’s no other choice. Even then, she’s hesitant.”

“Kellogg was one of the worst people to ever set foot in this town,” Piper said, sharing a disdainful look for the man with Lissy. “I’d honestly say he was worse than McDonough. I tried for…what was it, a year or so he lived here?”

“Just about,” Nick frowned. “Weren’t you trying to figure out where he got all of his money from?”

“Well, there was no way it was coming from an honest source,” Piper shook her head. “But I was never successful. I’d still love to know what he was hiding, but having him out of the city has been a massive relief for everyone, and he’s only been gone since last August.”

“Kellogg is a real menace. A brute, with a seemingly insatiable lust for blood,” Nick turned back to his secretary. “He bought the house he was living in town, didn’t he? And he had a kid with him, too, right?”

“He did,” Ellie said, flipping through the file with one hand and brushing her messy, long brown ponytail over her shoulder with the other. “The house is abandoned in the west stands, and the boy with him was around ten years old.”

“There’s no…” Nora sighed, her hands a bit shaky. “There’s no way that could be Shaun.”

“Yeah, big difference between an infant, and a ten year old, and we still don’t got a clue about where your husband could be. But that doesn’t mean we’re on the wrong track,” Nick said, taking the file from his secretary when she handed it to him. “I wouldn’t put it past Kellogg to have turned kidnapping into a bad habit. Give me a few days, and then let’s see if we can snoop out where he went from whatever we can find at – and hopefully inside – Kellogg’s last known address…he may be a professional from everything I’ve gathered, but I doubt even he could have left flawlessly.”

The Combat Zone
March the 3rd, 2288
21:07

The rumours about the Combat Zone had been true.

As it were, they happened to be something of an understatement.

Having fought past the few raiders outside the building, Preston Garvey tried not to let his horror and anger get the better of him. What kind of monsters think it’s alright to torture stray dogs while ‘taking a break?’ The inside of the building was not much better, even in what he was sure to be only the lobby area. Pulling out more laser-cell cartridges for his musket, Preston slipped them into his pockets before shutting and swinging his bag back over his shoulder again. His heart was beating rapidly, and he took only a brief few seconds to catch his breath before readying his musket and stepping through the second set of doors into the main theatre. Just about the moment he stepped through the doors, a few of the raiders turned around, and got up, charging at him. Preston ducked out of the way of one of the raiders swinging a tire iron at his head, and managed to shoot her in the legs a few times. She stumbled back, and snatched a gun from another raider who had dozed off in the seat behind her. The woman to whom the gun belonged bolted upright, and began fighting with the other woman for the weapon. Preston weaved in and out of the several rows of raiders, some of them trying to attack him and others too focused on the cage fight to notice. Shooting his way through a few raiders near the stage, Preston leapt onto the stairs leading up to it, and stepped onto the stage, catching the raider about to stab a young woman in her chest by surprise.

The raider whipped around to see what was going on, giving Preston the chance to shoot him. The young woman ripped the shotgun off the side of the raider’s right leg, where it had been holstered, and then glanced to Preston. The two of them shared a knowing look before moving, slowly, to be standing back to back as raiders angrily began to swarm the stage. Some of them (most likely due to being drunk or high) ran into the metal bars around the stage and stumbled back. Others tried to claw their way up onto the bars to get a better angle to shoot the pair now on the stage, fighting them together. Shot after shot rang out, but the onslaught of raiders, seemingly, did not abate. Reaching into her pocket for a moment, the young woman grabbed a dose of psycho and injected herself with it before casting the syringe aside. She quickly reloaded her stolen shotgun, and began taunting the raiders who managed to push past each other onto the stage, shooting them down almost excitedly. A few raiders came at her and Preston with knives, and the two of them, struggling to keep up, kept firing their guns, hoping to avoid getting stabbed. Preston swore under his breath when one of the knives caught on his sleeve while he was reloading his musket, and he fought with the raider who kept trying to stab him by hand, for a moment, before eventually kicking them off of him.

It all felt as though they were surrounded by nothing but pure chaos.

“Don’t think I got the chance for a proper introduction!” The young woman yelled over her shoulder, briefly meeting Preston’s gaze while the two of them continued to fight the raiders, their backs to each other. “Good a time as any for one, these bloody raiders ain’t going to give us much space for pleasantries! The name’s Cait!”

“Preston!” He yelled back, barely able to hear either of their voices over the din of raiders continuing their onslaught. “How long have you –"

“I’ve been here about four years, and won over a hundred matches undefeated!” Cait yelled back, winking at Preston out the corners of her eyes while she reloaded her shotgun. “But you have no idea how much I’ve wanted to stick it to these c*nts for a long time!”

“Glad to be able to help you out of this mess!” Preston yelled in reply, charging a few shots on his laser musket before shooting down the slowly thinning number of raiders who had made it onto the stage. “It seems these raiders are dug in here pretty good!”

“They are!” Cait yelled, pausing to let out a triumphant war whoop when she shot down two raiders in quick succession before one of them could hit her in the chest with a tire iron. “They’re the reason this place is a real sh*tehole! Glad to see someone hates these raiders as much as I do!”

Taking not another moment to hesitate, Cait and Preston refocused, opening fire on the raiders trying to climb up the bars to jump onto the stage. One by one. Shot by shot. Time seemed to be just about paused, nothing moving onwards apart from the gradually smaller and smaller number of raiders still trying to attack them. Everything seemed to be almost caught in a never ending cycle, where the two of them kept shooting down raiders only for another one to emerge. A shot, not one of theirs rang out. The feeling suddenly vanished. Preston stumbled back a bit, clutching at his right shoulder. Swearing under his breath, he reloaded his laser musket and tried to steady his aim again. Though he could feel himself wavering, he managed to get his sights on a few raiders, shooting at and finally taking them down after a minute he could have sworn was at least two or three. Nearby, Cait continued to shoot out the last few raiders. She let out a short cheer when they fell to the ground, dead, and she holstered her stolen shotgun with a triumphant smile. Seeing one last raider run towards the stage, gun drawn, Preston shouted for her to get out of the way, and Cait just barely skidded out of the way of a gunshot to her chest. Fury filling every inch of her body, she tore her twin switchblades out from where they were on either side of her hip. She lunged on the raider as they ran onto the stage, and pounced on them, stabbing them far more times than was necessary before struggling, for a few seconds, to catch her breath. Once she had, she noticed where Preston was struggling to try and tie up where he had been shot on the shoulder, and, after sheathing her knives, pulled a scarf off the body of one of the raiders, coming over to help clean up his wound.

“Don’t move,” She said, waiting for him to hold steady before beginning to wrap up where he was bleeding from the shoulder. “I’ve seen worse, you’ll be fine. Some of those raiders are real nasty blokes, with even nastier ammo. One of ‘em even shot right through one of me steel boned corsets, one time. Joke was on him, though, considering I more than beat him in the fight…if you know what I –”

“What the hell’s going on here?” A new voice demanded, heavy footsteps stepping onto the stage. Cait groaned, and Preston stared at the newcomer in surprise, not having expected to see someone so primly dressed. Seeing him, the man frowned. “I’m not sure if I should kiss you, or have my little bird here feed you your own entrails!”

Cait scowled. “I told you to quit calling me that!” She snapped, tying off the scarf before helping Preston back to his feet. “f*ck you, Tommy, really –”

“Are you f*cking high or something?” The man threw up his hands in exasperation. “Why am I asking? Of course you are!”

“Still won the fight, didn’t I?” Cait bit off. “Even cleared out the place of the usual sh*te always leering at or tying to kill me with only one other person to help! You’re a f*cking coward, never willing to defend or help me even –”

“You’re strung out and getting sloppy, is what you are,” Tommy coldly told her, turning to Preston. “You think she’s right and you were helping? Keeping those idiots entertained was what kept the lights on.”

“To hell with ‘em!” Cait crossed her arms. “More’ll come. If you’re going to keep putting me up to this sh*te, at least give me a quick breather, and then I’ll be ready to go.”

“A breather? What? So you can slam more of that junk into your arm? No, no. You know what? I think this was a blessing in disguise,” Tommy snorted, frowning when he looked back at Preston. “How’d you feel about taking over her contract?”

“Her what?” Preston stared at him in horror. “So, the rumours you’re holding people here against their will are true?”

“It is,” Cait said, glaring at Tommy. “You –”

“Two hundred caps, but you get the purse from the last fight,” Tommy said, holding a piece of paper and a bag of caps out to Preston. After a moment of hesitation, he pulled out two small bags of a hundred caps, tossed them to him, and then tore up the contract before handing Cait the bag of caps Tommy had handed him. “What are you doing?”

“Giving her the freedom to choose her own life,” Preston said coldly. “What kind of person are you to do this to another human being?”

“A real son of a bitch,” Cait said, flipping off Tommy before suddenly hugging Preston. “You know, something? I think I might even like you.”

“Just doing the right thing,” Preston said, awkwardly hugging her back. “If you need anything…just let me know.”

Cait smiled. “In that case, let’s see if anything interesting is happening in Goodneighbour. I could use a real good drink after all this.”

Cambridge Police Station
March the 5th, 2288
17:11

“While we were not able to discern where the location of this alleged ‘Compound’ is, both due to the inability to locate our contacts from the Brotherhood once we arrived in Covenant and due to the sudden departure of the three people we had been investigating with in the town, we nonetheless have substantial information from our numerous and lengthy conversations with them.”

Knight Rhys and Scribe Haylen stood at attention, giving the overview of their report, before relaxing slightly and sitting down at a table with Paladin Danse once he had given them the permission to. The Scribe took off her field backpack, relieved to be able to wear her Brotherhood uniform again, and unzipped the compartment she had since stored the bag with their holotapes in. The Knight, though he would not dare admit it, was equally relieved to no longer have to keep up the façade of being any other person in the wasteland. It’s insulting, when people treat members of the Brotherhood as though we’re the same as any other person in the world. He sat completely rigidly, barely moving even to look between Scribe Haylen and Paladin Danse. He faintly nodded in approval when the Scribe set the bag down on the table, and began to pull out the cleanly and clearly labelled holotapes from within it. There were precious few things more satisfying to him than an objective being carried out well and with thorough documentation. I certainly won’t miss the people we had to interact with for that information. The blonde man, Brian, was far too shifty for my liking, the same with his companion, Dan. As for the woman…I have never met someone else quite so arrogant and atrociously disrespectful in my life. He waited until the Scribe had finished neatly laying out the holotapes before speaking.

“As we mentioned in our written reports our Brothers brought back to the police station during our brief hand offs once a fortnight, the town known as Covenant has developed a programme by which they attempt to identify the Institute abominations known as ‘synths,’” Rhys dutifully said. “We have also come to a more concise understanding of what a ‘synth’ is, from the perspective of the people of the Commonwealth, that is.”

“I recall a mention of there being more than one type of synth,” Danse looked to Haylen. “Scribe, do you have that information recorded?”

“Recorded, and memorised,” Haylen replied, waiting to continue until he nodded. “The people of the Commonwealth see synths as three ‘types’ or ‘gens’ which I suspect is shorthand for ‘generation.’ The ‘first gen’ synths are what we would most likely expect a synthetic human being to be – a grotesque metal skeleton having replications of a few vital organs, including partial brain matter.”

“Fascinating,” Danse said. “Please continue, Scribe Haylen.”

“Of course, sir,” She said, lifting up one of the holotapes. “This is the tape we’ve recorded the discussions on the type of synths on. I’ll leave it here for you to listen over at your leisure. Now. The ‘second gen’ synths are a bit confusing, in the sense they do not look nearly as inhuman as the ‘first gen’ synths, but they are still clearly inhuman. I should note neither ‘first’ or ‘second gen’ synths are able to experience conscious thought. That is what makes the ‘third gen’ synths so dangerous, at least in part. They not only look indistinguishable from a human being, but are programmed to be able to act like one, and experience conscious thought.”

“Anything able to pass as a human and be conscious is a major threat,” Rhys cut in. “Which is why I have noted this as proof of the Institute needing to be dealt with by the Brotherhood. The existence of their ‘synths’ alone is proof the Institute is creating abominable, technological nightmares, but the ‘third gen synths’ are, in particular, a disgusting abuse of science.”

“I’m glad you and Scribe Haylen have documented this information, then,” Danse shook his head. “I’m sure Elder Maxson will be pleased to hear of the results of this investigation. These are immense strides in our survey of the Commonwealth. Allow me to thank you for the work you’ve done thus far. I have a new objective for the two of you to begin, but I would like to hear the rest of what you have learnt from this investigation before I take a listen to your holotapes so I may write my summation report on this matter for Elder Maxson.”

“As you wish,” Rhys said, sharing a long look with Haylen. “The town’s test to attempt to identify synths is a surprisingly simple, psychological exam. They give this exam to everyone at the gate before allowing people entry. From there, they analyse the results and take those who are likely to be synths to their ‘Compound’ for interrogation and physical identification. Their efficacy continues to rise. Had we been able to find their full research and ‘Compound,’ we would have taken it to be analysed by the Brotherhood.”

“We believe the people investigating alongside us within the town gave up on the possibility of finding this ‘Compound,’” Haylen added. “This is because, as our conversations continued with them, they were not only growing increasingly frustrated by the lack of headway on the matter but weary. The only lead they had involved the sewers, but we took a look at the sewers in question and saw no entrance to them, rendering it significantly unlikely this ‘Compound’ could be there.”

“A reasonable conclusion,” Danse agreed. “What do you know about the people with whom you were investigating the town?”

“They were not residents of the town, but also investigating the town,” Rhys said. “One of them was a caravan master who believed his caravan had been slaughtered by the town. Another was an apparent colleague of that caravan master. Both of those people were men. The other was a woman.”

“Interestingly,” Haylen continued. “The woman revealed she is from the Capital Wasteland. We are disinclined from believing either of the men gave their real names, but we’re fairly certain this woman was who she says she is. She said her name is Annette Davis, she grew up in a Vault, was briefly a civilian medical student under the Brotherhood at the Citadel during the last years of the war with the Enclave, and currently practises medicine out of the Vault she grew up in, having returned to it after the Enclave was defeated. She said she was trying to see if there were a connexion between something that happened in said Vault and the town in question.”

“I believe I’ve heard that name before,” Danse said, pausing for a moment in thought. “There was an Annette Davis who was taken in by the Brotherhood as a civilian medical student in exchange for the Brotherhood sparing resources to locate her father. I’ll have to ask Elder Maxson to send over an image of her so we can see if the woman you came into contact with was the same person, albeit presumably older than the documentation of her we retained as she was a resident of the Citadel.”

“If it is at all useful, I can provide a short summation of her…personality for you to include in that request,” Rhys promptly nodded when Danse gestured for him to continue. “She was, in a word, bitter. She also spoke rather condescendingly, and coldly to everyone. It was quite apparent she believes she is above everyone around her. I was less than impressed. She clearly needs to make time to learn her place.”

“Sounds like it,” Danse said with a frown. “Thank you for the additional information. It’ll certainly be useful in the identification process. Sounds like quite the memorable woman. If we know where this Vault she practises medicine is, I suspect we'll be able to find her from the physical descriptions and, as you just relayed, her personality.”

“Yes,” Rhys said, allowing silence to sit for a minute. “You said you had new orders for us? If you are ready, I’m sure Scribe Haylen and I can begin as soon as possible.”

“We can be ready within a day or two,” Haylen confirmed. “Whenever you have the new orders, we’ll prepare to leave to carry them out.”

“Understood,” Danse said with a faint smile. “Your orders are simple: go into the field and read energy levels near or around sites these ‘synths’ are most frequently seen. Once we have that data to back up our other findings, I suspect Elder Maxson will expedite the Prydwen’s arrival in the Commonwealth significantly. Ad Victoriam, Scribe, Knight. Ad Victoriam."

Railroad Headquarters
March the 7th, 2288
10:23

“The good news is Amelia Stockton is safely home, and we, unintentionally sabotaged the entire operation that got her kidnapped in the first place.”

“And the bad news, Deacon?”

“The bad news is we’ll now have to avoid any operations near the damn town because they know at least Dan is partially responsible for their little operation going out with a bang. And I mean that in the sense of the scientist leading the project being dead, Des.”

Desdemona raised an eyebrow when she looked up from the report she had been reading from Stockton, only to see Deacon rather nonchalantly brushing out the long, blonde wig he had worn during the just over six week operation. Looking back at the report she had laid on top of their map of the Commonwealth, Desdemona frowned, her mind racing. It’s almost unbelievable. An entire group of people, hellbent on killing synths. In a way, they’re worse than the Institute. Something about the situation was unsettling, not only from the lack of previous intelligence but the outcome of the investigation into the town. And to think we had hoped they only wanted to avoid having synths in their settlement to avoid any contact with the Institute. I knew it was unlikely, yet… Covenant. It had been a question in the back of everyone’s minds for a long time. Since the first time they had heard about it, the odd entrance requirements, and, later, the whispers about the town’s entrance requirements being used to identify synths, there had been questions. Questions about why, questions about motive, questions about whether or not they were associated with the Institute. Somehow, the reality was worse than they had imagined. Somehow, if the town had been an Institute puppet, a way to discreetly reclaim synths, it would have been better than the reality of it being a trap to lure, identify, and kill synths. At least, if the town had been an Institute puppet, it would have made sense, it would have been expected.

“Well, good thing is the bitch who was killing synths is dead,” Glory said bitterly, greasing her minigun. “I want to thank the woman who killed her personally. Any idea where she went after you and Dan went back to Bunker Hill?”

“Sadly, no,” Deacon said, briefly glancing up from his working with his wig. “I helped her out of there after I calmed her down. She had something of a breakdown after she killed the bitch who was tormenting synths. Sounded like she knew her at one point.”

Glory rolled her eyes. “How could anyone feel bad about killing someone so damn vile? I’d have been happy to do so. The Institute needs to pay, and so does anyone who hurts or violates synths. The bastards need to bleed. All of them.”

“We will spill only as much blood as we have to,” Desdemona said sharply, though she softened when she met Glory’s eyes. “We’re more than murderers, Glory,” She said gently. “Remember that.”

“Desdemona is correct,” Carrington grudgingly agreed. “That could become easily reckless, and recklessness could open us up to detection by the Institute. We have to do all we can to avoid them finding us here.”

“Whatever,” Glory muttered. “At least you finally agreed to let me go as far as I need to in order to try and find out what I can’t f*cking remember.”

“I still don’t like that plan,” Carrington irritably reminded her. “But Desdemona insisted you have the right to ‘self determination’ even when it could compromise –”

“They’re her memories, and it’s her mind,” Desdemona cut in, sending him a pointed look. “If she wants to have Amari help her attempt to unlock whatever memories the Institute’s bullsh*t is hiding from her, then she has a right to. Don’t tell me you wouldn’t want to know what is in your mind if someone had put things in place for you to be unable to find them.”

“You would, Carrington,” Glory said, narrowing her eyes when he swore under his breath. “And Desdemona is right. We’re talking about my memories. We’re talking about my mind. We’re talking about my life.”

“And I’ll be with her,” Deacon said, hanging up his wig and walking over to where Glory was sitting and working. “She isn’t going to go through this sh*t alone.”

“Because Deacon being the only one accompanying you for such a delicate operation is a truly comforting thought,” Carrington said with a frown. “You could die, Glory. Losing you as an agent would be a tremendous loss for us.”

“I’m not going to die,” Glory snapped. “And, frankly, that’s an insult to Amari’s intelligence and abilities. She has never lost a patient, not even the first synth we ever ran through the Memory Den.”

“There is always a potential for things to go wrong,” Carrington said, not bothering to hide his increasing annoyance and exasperation. “Just because you want to know what the Institute was like, what they may have forced you to –”

“Carrington, just give her a break,” Tom said, stepping away from his computer terminal and picking up a Nuka Cola and twisting off the bottle cap. “Glory’s a real tough nut. Not even the Institute and their schemes will be able to keep her out of her own mind.”

“Yeah, you’re really underestimating her,” Deacon said, kneeling down a bit to comfortably wrap an arm over Glory’s shoulders. “You’ve had a real stick up your ass lately, Carrington.”

“Perhaps I’ve simply been concerned considering the delicate operations we’ve been running lately. Yours included, Deacon,” Carrington said sharply. “Speaking of which, we need a full profile on the woman you and Dan worked with to free Amelia Stockton, particularly considering she is the one who killed the project leader.”

“It’s in the report I gave Des,” Deacon said with a shrug. “You can take a look at it when you’re ready. I did my job, Carrington.”

“He did,” Desdemona said, unfazed when she met Carrington’s glare. “I would even say he’s surpassed expectations. It sounds as though the heart of the town’s work died with the woman who was behind the violence.”

“And the woman who killed her could easily be a security risk to us,” Carrington replied. “We have no way of knowing if she truly is on our side or was simply acting out of her own selfish and ulterior motives.”

“I’m not inclined to believe she had a selfish or ulterior motive,” Deacon said, shaking his head. “I know we can never be certain, especially with someone we haven’t got a whole lot of tabs or history documented on, but I find it hard to believe she would want anything to do with helping the Institute. And we do know she really hates the Brotherhood.”

“Desdemona and the others may frequently trust your instincts, but they are absolutely not enough to go on,” Carrington shook his head. “Keep tabs on her if you see her around the Commonwealth, Deacon, but take it slow before you attempt to make any contact with her again.”

“She’s not a priority to me, but will do, Doc,” Deacon said, standing up and dismissively waving a hand. “I’m going to be focusing on my usual work, and staying by Glory’s side for the sh*t with Amari. You have nothing to worry about.”

“You ain’t so bad, Deacon,” Glory said, elbowing him. “Glad to know someone other than Des trusts me around here with my own damn life.”

“Well, you know me,” Deacon replied with a wink. “I aim to please.”

Goodneighbour
March the 9th, 2288
23:32

If there were anything Magnolia recognised well after years of performing in the Third Rail, it would be the regulars.

There were the regulars who seemed to live at least half of their lives in the establishment, most of them living the other half of their lives around the rest of Goodneighbour. Then, there were the regulars who came in while on break from whatever jobs they had, often caravaners. There was, of course, also the mercenary who met with clients in the back, an arrangement he had made with Hanco*ck the previous June, having left the mercenary gang who called themselves the gunners after only a year of working as one of them. Of all of the regulars, he was one of the few she was fairly familiar with on a personal level. The other she knew well was a woman, one who seemed to spend time in the bar for the sole purpose of aggravating her older brother. The nights both of them were present and having a drink at the same time were some of the most entertaining. Yes, between Emogene Cabot and Robert Joseph MacCready, Magnolia found the Third Rail to never be lacking for excitement or, at the very least, entertainment. Seeing Emogene argue with Charlie after (one too many) drinks was always amusing, and the way MacCready tried to flirt was adorable. Then, of course, there the nights when she would be the voice no one could look away from. Those were the nights she never wanted to end, no matter how exhausted she began to feel. There were also the nights where a fight would break out, and those nights were some she couldn’t help but laugh at the memory of. Rarely, those fights would be caused by Hanco*ck, and would usually end with him attempting to fight his own reflexion in a mirror.

Yet, for as interesting as she found the regulars, the people she found herself the most interested in were the newcomers.

“Now, let me buy you your first drink,” Magnolia smiled at a tired and well dressed woman who had sat down at the bar, close to the stage. “Charlie always tries to pull a fast one on anyone who hasn’t spent at least a day down here before.”

The woman raised an eyebrow. “I take it you spend a great deal of time here, then?”

“This here is Magnolia,” Charlie said gruffly, pushing a (decidedly full) glass of wine towards her. “The flower of the Third Rail. She sings, she puts up with the riff raff, and anything else you want to know about her than that is her business.”

“Let’s just say I like to be a good, good neighbour,” Magnolia said with a smile which the woman hesitantly returned. “What’s your name, sweetheart?”

“Annette,” The woman said shortly, taking a long sip of the wine. When she set it down, she sighed. “Are you the owner?”

Magnolia chuckled. “Oh, far from it.”

“Hanco*ck’s the owner,” Charlie said, pausing when he saw the man who stepped out from in back. “As I live and beep…MacCready. You here to finally settle your tab?”

“Depends,” He said, swinging himself up onto one of the barstools. “How much is it at? Or did you forget I paid it off three weeks ago?”

Annette laughed a little. “I take it you spend a great deal of time here?”

MacCready winked. “You know it.”

“Don’t tease him, Charlie,” Magnolia chided, causing the robot bartender to start quietly swearing. “I thought you told Hanco*ck you’d stop doing that.”

“Who is this ‘Hanco*ck?’” Annette said, curiosity piqued. “Other than just the owner of the bar, that is.”

“He’s the mayor of this whole bloody town,” Charlie told her, sounding irritated when he glanced at MacCready, who tossed him a few caps. “Trust me, you don’t want to get on his bad side,” The robot bartender went on, grudgingly handing MacCready a beer. “Oh, and stay clear of his bodyguard. She’s the short haired redhead with the condescending stare. Trust me, something about her ain’t right...not that I’d ever admit to saying it. She’s a real mean one, I’ll tell you that.”

“Oh, she’s not that bad,” Magnolia said with a laugh and a dismissive wave of her hands. “She simply takes her job seriously, and I appreciate a woman who knows what her money’s worth,” She turned to Annette. “So, what brings you to my part of town?”

“Not sure I should say,” Annette said, hesitating a moment before reaching into her coat pockets. “Will you be bothered if I have a light?”

“Of course not,” Magnolia said with a smile. “I have to get back to the stage, but, don’t worry, honey. I won’t let Charlie here be hard on you.”

“Wish you’d say the same about me!” MacCready joked while the songstress sauntered back towards her microphone. “I could use an easy day or two!”

“You ain’t getting an easy day,” Charlie gruffly told him. “Someone’s got to keep you on your bloody toes, MacCready.”

He shrugged. “We’ll see.”

Annette glanced to him with a hint of a smile. “I take it you’re one of the regulars?”

“I…have a bit of a business going around here,” MacCready said before having a bit of his beer. “See,” He went on. “I meet with potential clients in the back. Only trouble is a lot of them keep getting scared off these last few months because of the gunners.”

“Gunners?” Annette raised an eyebrow, taking a draw on her cig. “Who are they?”

“They’re one of the biggest gangs in the Commonwealth. Got a rep for being crazy…you know, so tightly wound you’d think they were a cult or something,” MacCready shook his head. “Stuck around with them for a while because the money was good, but I never fit in. That’s why I made a clean break and started flying solo, but some of them…they’re relentless. Surprised you haven’t heard of them. You not from around here?”

“You could say that,” Annette said, tapping off some of the excess ash from her cig. “I’m from the former Capital, grew up there…and honestly never thought I’d leave. But, then again, here I am. Been gone about a year, and thought I’d head back after I…finished something I was working on, but I’m not so sure I can, now. Truthfully, I left to try and...figure some things out, and to escape a few people, one of whom was the woman I had fallen in love with in the Vault we were part of.”

“You’re from the Capital?” MacCready repeated, surprised. “I lived there most of my life, up until about a few years ago. Only ended up here two years ago, though. What caused you to leave?”

Annette hesitated. “You first.”

“After…after my wife died, I wasn’t sure where I’d feel safe raising our son. Felt alright down there for a little while, but…he’s sick, and I don’t know what’s wrong with him. One day, he’s playing out in the fields behind our farm…the next he took a fever and these blue boils popped up all over his body. He’s…”

“You alright?” Annette fell silent when he glanced away, blinking back tears. “Here,” She all but tossed him a cigarette. “Having one of these always calms me down.”

MacCready managed a small smile. “Thanks,” He said, brushing aside tears he hoped she hadn’t noticed. “Haven’t met anyone so, well…nice in a while.”

“I’m not,” Annette said, taking another long sip of her wine. “You want to know why I’m really here?” She finally said, her voice unusually soft and quiet. “I need to dull my senses. I…I came to the Commonwealth looking for answers, answers to something I should have already understood. And, now I have them…I don’t quite know what to do, or what to make of what I did after…after I got them.”

MacCready worriedly watched her finish the rest of the wine before handing Charlie some caps for another.

“Sounds rough,” He eventually said, lighting his cig. “You sure you’re okay?”

“I will be,” She said, leaning against the bar as she began to sway a little. “I shouldn’t have interrupted what you were saying. I…I hope you can forgive me.”

“Don’t worry about it,” MacCready gently replied. “Sounds like you’re in a tough spot.”

“I am. But don’t…” Annette briefly fell silent, closing her eyes. “I’m so sorry. I shouldn’t be putting any of this on you.”

“It’s alright…I get what you’re feeling more than I’d usually care to admit. Never seems like there’s anyone to talk to who gets it around here,” MacCready sighed. “Happens too often, at least after having grown up in the…” He fell silent when the two of them met each other’s eyes. “Feels like we’re both just kids who grew up way too fast.”

“Yes,” Annette said dejectedly. “Yes, we are.”

Chapter 12: Something Suspect

Chapter Text

Diamond City
March the 15th, 2288
15:22

“Well, well. Our newest visitor, the detective, a cage fighter, and our city’s most prolifically irresponsible citizen. What could possibly have brought the four of you up here?”

Piper scowled at Geneva just about the second the two women met eyes. Stepping off the lift up to the mayor’s office, she crossed her arms, biting her tongue. I’ve got a few ideas about you and what you get up to. Lucky I’m not here to try and see if they at all pan out today. She glanced towards the lift, waiting for Nick, Cait, and Nora to step off and over towards the secretary’s desk as well. His usual self, Nick adjusted his hat, and then offered Geneva a polite smile. Hesitant around the synth, Geneva merely gave him a short nod, raising an eyebrow when she saw Nora’s tired and anxious gait and the way Cait had looped an arm around her. Cait winked at the mayor’s secretary when she and Nora joined Piper and Nick just in front of her desk. Geneva eyed her closely, caught somewhere between amusem*nt at her mannerisms and concern. That girl has something of a reputation around here, though I don’t imagine she’s aware of it. Seems to me the only people in this city who actually like her are Piper, Vadim, and the Bransons. Unaware of or unbothered by Geneva’s critical gaze, Cait let go of Nora and sauntered right up to the mayor’s secretary, leaning forward and propping her elbows up on the secretary’s desk, and grinned, causing Geneva to push her back a little, rolling her eyes.

“Again, I have to ask,” Geneva irritably said. “What could possibly have brought the four of you up here? Especially…” She warily looked between Piper and Cait. “The two of them.”

“Sweet as always, Geneva,” Piper said dryly. “I can see why the mayor hired you to decide who –”

“Are you done crowding the reception area, Miss Piper?” Geneva testily cut in. “I don’t get the sense you’re the one who’s here for an even halfway decent reason.”

“We need to talk to someone about Kellogg,” Nick said, sending Piper a pointed look before she could say anything more. “The man who used to live in the west stands.”

Geneva raised an eyebrow. “What about him?”

“Well, firstly, do you know why he left town, by chance?” Nick sighed when she shook her head. “He left with the kid he had with him, didn’t he?”

“Truthfully, I can’t remember if he left with that kid he came to town with or not,” Geneva said, a tinge of suspicion to her voice. “We foreclosed on the property shortly after he left, locked it up, and never thought much of it or him. It, at least, seemed clear he had no intention to return.”

“So, you have the key?” Nora said, relief washing over her when Geneva nodded. “Could you give it to me? I need to have a look around in there.”

“I’m afraid that’s above my purview,” Geneva said, frowning when Nora’s face fell. “If there were anything belonging to the man you have a claim on, you could ask the mayor to hear you out. But I can’t – and, more to the point, won’t – guarantee anything.”

Nora looked between her and the city security guards, who seemed rather focused on Cait and Piper.

“So, I can just head in and talk to McDonough?”

“You can,” Geneva said, standing up to open the doors into the mayor’s office. “But, I’ll warn you, he’s not going to like you bringing that reporter into his office. You might want to ask her to wait outside.”

“Awe, look at me,” Piper said, following after Nora, Nick, and Cait. “I’m so frightening! A twenty four year old, 5’4’’ and half asleep reporter is such a threat, such a menace to –”

“Piper!” McDonough narrowed his eyes when he saw the reporter slip past Nick and Cait to stand beside Nora, arms crossed and a defiant smirk on her face. “How many times do I have to tell you not to come near this office?”

“Mayor McDonough, please, she’s just trying to help me,” Nora said quickly. “I’ve been trying to find my son for months, now, and Piper is one of the few people who’s been able to help.”

“It’s true,” Nick said, pausing when the man turned to eye him suspiciously. “This has nothing to do with anything between you and Piper. Hell, I wouldn’t even be here at all if it weren’t for her, Nora, and Cait here going looking for me.”

McDonough glanced at Cait, frowning when she draped one arm over Piper’s shoulders and the other over Nora’s.

“So much as I find it admirable people are willing to…sacrifice their time and energy for others, it does not change the fact Piper is a troublemaker,” He turned to Nora. “I know you’re still new to our fair city, but the press is not allowed in this office. Piper can wait outside.”

“Sure I can,” Piper bit off. “But what’s the problem, McDonough? Scared of the Ides Of March?”

“Watch what you say very carefully, Piper,” McDonough coldly replied. “Threats like that will get you sent right back to jail.”

“Because that’ll make you look good,” Cait rolled her eyes. “Throwing the only lass willing to talk back to you and question your authority in jail will endear so much trust into the state of justice in this –”

“Both of you, leave, before you get yourselves into trouble,” McDonough said, frowning at the two women when they shared a disdainful look before quietly apologising to Nora and Nick and leaving the room. “Such a bother.”

“She may not say it politely, but Cait’s not entirely wrong,” Nick cautioned him, briefly looking back when security shut the doors nearly the second Cait and Piper were out of the room. “People will start to talk the more you openly fight with Piper.”

“You may tolerate her nonsense, but I cannot,” McDonough said testily. After a few seconds, he turned to Nora. “I apologise for being strict, but Piper is a troublemaker, and I advise you to stay away from her machinations and any of her friends, particularly ones like that…unkempt young woman. Now…what’s this about?”

“A man called Kellogg used to live in this city,” Nora said shortly. What could he possibly have to hide in here that he’s afraid of Piper gaining access to? “I need to search his house.”

“You need to search his house?” McDonough suspiciously repeated. “Why on earth would you need to do that?”

“He was involved in kidnapping my son, and my husband,” Nora said, her voice tired. “I need to find him if I’m going to have any chance to find out where they went. Where he took them.”

“I see. I remember Kellogg. Didn’t like him much myself. Paranoid. Never talked to anyone. Even if you find him, he likely won’t talk. Only person I ever did see him with was a boy who I suspect was his young son,” McDonough said, warily looking at Nick before turning back to Nora. “That said, I’m sorry, but however horrible the crimes Kellogg may have committed, your word alone isn’t hard evidence. Whatever reasons you may have, I take my citizens’ privacy very seriously, even after they’ve left. I can’t allow you to invade someone else’s home. That’s all there is to it. I can’t condone unlawful searches of people’s property. Now, unless you have anything else to discuss, I have matters to attend to.”

Nora swore under her breath but, after a minute of taking a look around the office from where she stood, turned around and started for the door. Nick followed shortly behind her, discreetly passing a small object to her. Nora took it with a faint smirk and stuck it to the back of one of the filing cabinets by the door. Not my first time planting a bug. Let’s hope something worth hearing gets recorded on it. Pushing the doors open and unable to hide her annoyance, Nora barely managed to give Geneva a tight smile, which the secretary barely acknowledged. Instead, she waved an irritable hand at Piper and Cait, just about shooing the two of them away from the mayor’s office the second she saw Nora and Nick were leaving themselves. Stepping back onto the lift back down to the ground, Nora took one last look back at the office, her hands briefly clenching around the bars of the lift in frustration. Seeing her tension, Cait stepped over to her and loosely embraced her, resting her head on her shoulder. Nora glanced at her, surprised, but didn’t push her away, a small, warm feeling rising in her chest.

“There are other ways of finding out what we need to,” Cait reassured her with a playful wink. “Up to and including picking locks…once we know they ain’t onto us anymore, that is. Give it time, and don’t worry, love. There’s always a way around the law, no matter what they bloody well tell you.”

Capital Wasteland
March the 16th, 2288
7:57

In the near five years since he had been made an Elder of the Brotherhood Of Steel at only sixteen, the one thing that never ceased to bring Arthur Maxson great pride was seeing how well and how strongly the Brotherhood had come together.

Stepping out from the Citadel’s Strategic Command to his dutifully waiting wife with Lancer Captain Kells, Knight Captain Cade, and Proctors Teagan, Quinlan, and Ingram, Arthur Maxson took a look over the soldiers assembled below from where they stood. Only a decade ago, when anyone told me my soul was forged from eternal steel and I would ascend to control of the entire East Coast, I did not believe them. It’s strange to remember how wrong I was. By the time I was thirteen, I had killed a deathclaw by my own hand and mine alone. I ought to have realised it then. Beside him, his wife smiled when the two of them met each other’s eyes, briefly taking his hand. Though they quickly let go, they both knew they were feeling the same relief at the outcome of the most recent operation. Having that awful man, Zimmer, in our custody is a major step. I cannot believe his arrogance. Does he even know who we are? He’s been here long enough to see not only the Prydwen’s launch but the way it has reaffirmed and drawn the Brotherhood back together. For someone of supposed high intelligence, he’s shockingly ignorant. Standing next to her, Proctor Ingram eyed her closely, both out of concern for her considering the previous month’s encounter with one of the ‘Institute’s’ machines and in curiosity of her mannerisms. It had been well accepted, in the near year since their wedding, Karissa Maxson preferred to be close by her husband when permissible, but it had grown all the more common of late.

Then again, they are both so young. Strange to think Elder Maxson only turned twenty one at the end of February, and she the same in early January.

“As many of you are no doubt aware, the rumours are true. We have, in our custody, a leader of an organisation in the Commonwealth that calls itself the Institute,” Arthur began, stepping forward to address his soldiers. “Furthermore, we have been able to take into custody evidence of reports we have received from our Brothers and Sisters already operating in the Commonwealth. Once we have the last of the information we need from them, and will extract from those we have in custody, we will make the final preparations for our arrival in the Commonwealth.”

“For those of you under my command aboard the Prydwen, this should come as no surprise,” Lancer Captain Kells said, sharing a brief, knowing look with Maxson. “As Captain of that vessel, I am pleased to announce your hard work these past few years has been a success. From the near three years it took to design, six to build, and, in these past five, refine, the Prydwen now is proof of not only the tenacity of some of the Brotherhood’s sharpest minds but of the rewards of persistence, dedication, and obedience.”

“Your accomplishment of this feat has surpassed my expectations, and is rapidly facilitating our arrival in the Commonwealth,” Maxson continued with pride. “And you have accomplished this amazing feat without a hint of purpose or direction and, most impressively, without question. I expect nothing less than the same excellence once some of you leave with us for the Commonwealth. Those of you maintaining the Citadel will, I’m sure, reflect the same dedication and purpose on the home front as many of your Brothers and Sisters go off to war.”

“The importance of all of your contributions to the Prydwen cannot be understated,” Kells added. “With the Prydwen in our arsenal, we can mobilise our entire division, sending her anywhere Elder Maxson wishes her to go. Her presence in the Commonwealth will ensure our mission to defeat the Institute will end in victory.”

“With this important mission in mind, I am today giving two official orders,” Maxson said sharply. “The first – all former members of the Brotherhood Of Steel on the East Coast but especially those we have reason to believe are in the Commonwealth are to be tracked down for re-recruitment.”

“This is a crucial step,” Kells warned. “We cannot risk those with intimate knowledge of the Brotherhood’s operations from their time within our ranks falling into the hands of the enemy.”

“That enemy brings me to the second order,” Maxson said, a hint of anger entering his voice. “Beneath the Commonwealth, there is a cancer, known as the Institute, a malignant growth needing to be cut before it further infects the surface. They are experimenting with dangerous technologies which could prove to be the world’s undoing for the second time in recent history. The Institute scientists have created a weapon transcending the destructive nature of the atom bomb. They call their creation the ‘synth,’ a robotic abomination of technology which is free thinking and masquerades as a human being.”

Disgusting machines. There will be no mercy for either it or its creator in our custody.

“The notion a machine could be granted free will is not only offensive, but horribly dangerous, and, like the atom, if it isn’t harnessed properly, it has the potential of rendering us extinct as a species,” Maxson went on, anger growing with every word. “I am not prepared to allow the Institute to continue this line of experimentation. Therefore, the Institute and their ‘synths’ are considered enemies of the Brotherhood Of Steel, and should be dealt with swiftly and mercilessly. From this day forward, we are at war with the Institute. Ad Victoriam!”

Looking amongst each other while the crowd cheered before slowly returning to their duties, Maxson, his wife, Kells, Cade, and the Proctors allowed themselves time to take in the moment with pride for their accomplishments. Then, as the soldiers continued to disperse and return back to their duties, the Elder, Lancer Captain, Knight Captain, and Proctors returned to the Citadel’s Strategic Command, where a Paladin was waiting for them, holding one of the two in their custody in restraint. Another Paladin closed and locked the doors behind the group, and stood by it at the ready. Proctor Quinlan wrinkled his nose in disgust when he looked at the restrained man as he sat down. His eyes narrowed when the man snapped at the Paladin to release him, and grew all the angrier when the Paladin did not do so, instead forcing him to sit down at the table, and restraining him to a chair, cuffing his ankles to it on the bottom and his wrists to the table. Knight Captain Cade sat down on one side of the man, one hand on his gun should the need arise, while Proctor Ingram sat down on the other, the sound of her power armour startling the restrained scientist. Proctor Teagan took in the man’s situation, almost amused by it, and himself sat down, looking between Elder Maxson at one end of the table, and Lancer Captain Kells at the other, them all waiting for the man to cease his protests.

“How dare you treat me so poorly?” He condescendingly glared at all of them. “I am Dr. Charles Alexander Zimmer, head of the Institute’s Synth Retention Bureau! I am not one of your measly minds who enjoy playing with their chemistry sets!”

“Should you want to be released from our custody, I’d suggest you be more cooperative,” Proctor Ingram said, her eyes narrow when she looked at him. “And provide us answers to our questions. With evidence, mind.”

He scoffed. “What questions could you possibly have? Even if you have something substantial to ask me, I sincerely doubt you have the capacity to understand the answer.”

“Your condescension is doing you no favours,” Maxson harshly told him. “And, as it happens, many of our questions have little to do with the abominations of technology you litter around.”

“Is that so?” He snorted. “We’ll see if they have any substance.”

“They do,” Maxson said coldly. “As I suspect you are well aware, around a decade ago, the Brotherhood obtained the services of Dr. Madison Li, a noted mind in the field of nuclear engineering. Had I been in command, I wouldn’t have allowed her to leave following the securement of the Capital Wasteland as she was a valuable asset. My predecessors, however, did not have such foresight. We are inclined to believe she made contact with the Institute.”

“Surprisingly, your inclination is correct,” Zimmer patronisingly replied. “Dr. Li is one of the Institute’s best, and I’m afraid you’re far too late. There is nothing you could say to her to make her want to give up her position with us. In fact, you should live in great fear of her, and what she does with us.”

Goodneighbour
March the 18th, 2288
23:30

“Glad to see you back in one piece,” Hanco*ck said, clapping when MacCready walked into his office. “I take it you had no trouble snooping out the area?”

“No trouble at all,” MacCready said, taking a sudden step to the side when he realised he was standing in front of Fahrenheit’s ‘dart’ (read: knife) board. “Although you were right. It’s a real weird place….and even weirder on the inside.”

Fahrenheit briefly looked up from where she had been standing in the corner, sharpening her knives, only to frown when she saw the way MacCready stepped into the room. She waved a hand at the neighbourhood watch guards standing outside the doors to close them, which they did, leaving the former gunner, the mayor, and the mayor’s bodyguard alone. When she saw the wary way MacCready looked to her every so often, she gave him a smug smile. Then, she returned back to sharpening her knives. In a much more jovial mood, Hanco*ck popped the cap off a bottle of bourbon and, as was becoming more and more common, gave MacCready a fatherly slap on the back before pouring two glasses of bourbon, one of which he handed to him. MacCready accepted the drink with an awkward smile, and eventually sat down on one of the two couches. Hanco*ck hummed something to himself, sauntering over to the other couch, and sat down himself, leaning forward a little with his elbows propped up on his knees. The glass of bourbon in one hand and the bottle in the other, Hanco*ck set down the bottle and began drinking from his glass, almost giddy in anticipation to hear what the young mercenary had to say.

“So, what’d you figure out?” Hanco*ck said with a faint smirk. “I’m guessing you’ve got a lot to say, what with having gotten a peek at what they’ve got going on in there.”

“It was more than a peek,” MacCready said grimly. “Sneaking past the raiders wasn’t too much of a problem. They usually aren’t the brightest. The ones outside got plenty distracted when they made some mistakes setting off fireworks. While they were distracted, I picked the lock into the building. There were some raiders in there, but they were mostly passed out…or already dead.”

“Already dead?” Hanco*ck finished his glass and reached for the bourbon bottle to refill it. “What were they doing in there to be either conked out or having already kicked it?”

“I’m not entirely sure, but I don’t think they were the ones doing it to each other,” MacCready nervously took a sip his bourbon. “Almost all of the corpses had the same ‘calling card’ you told me about somewhere on or near them. Same handwriting, and the same creepy heart drawn in blood.”

“Damn…” Hanco*ck said, letting out a low whistle. “Got a copy of one with you?”

MacCready grimaced but pulled a folded up piece of paper from his jacket pocket and handed it to Hanco*ck across the table.

“Pickman was here, find me if you dare…” Hanco*ck pulled the note up close to his face, seemingly looking for any hidden notes. Finding none, he shook out the piece of paper before setting it down on the table. “Blood smells like it’s probably somewhat fresh. It’s not too dark yet either. Think it’s possible you crossed paths with this ‘Pickman’ fellow?”

“Doubt it,” MacCready said, pausing when he saw Fahrenheit throw one of her newly sharpened knives across the room and into the centre of the former dartboard. “I think I’d remember it if I came across the guy. If he’s flamboyant enough to sign his notes in blood, he’d probably be pretty easy to spot. And he’d be the only living person among a bunch of corpses.”

“Fair, fair,” Hanco*ck took another sip of his bourbon before precariously setting it on his knees. “I’ve heard a lot of rumours coming out of that area for a long time,” He said, dusting off his hands. “And, as you know, I asked you to scope it out because it’s been quiet, uncomfortable post coitus quiet, and that ain’t how raiders usually play. Guess it makes sense they’re just turning up dead.”

“What did you find in there?” Fahrenheit eyed MacCready closely, sashaying over to her ‘dart’ board. “Other than the corpses. That’s a given.”

“Paintings,” MacCready said, nervously watching her rip the knife out of the centre of the former dartboard. “Really disturbing paintings. I’m pretty sure some real paint was used in them, but most of them were done in a lot of blood. Kind of explained why some of the corpses looked oddly…drained.”

“Wait, wait, wait!” Hanco*ck said, accidentally knocking his glass off his knees, causing it to fall to the floor and shatter, spilling what little of his drink was left. “You saying he paints in blood?”

“I get the feeling he’s a serial killer, actually,” MacCready said, shaking his head. “Either way, I don’t get the feeling Pickman’s art will have much resale value once all those bodies start decaying.”

Fahrenheit laughed. “Oh, Little Bird, you may be about to become our canary in a coal mine.”

“Not happening,” MacCready said, setting down his glass of bourbon. “I’m not going to die for you and Hanco*ck. I have a lot of reasons to live, you know.”

Duncan. He needs me, and I need to…I need to figure out what to do, how to help him. And then there’s…

“Lots of reasons?” Fahrenheit teased. “Like what? The woman you seem to want to see every night in the Third Rail?”

“You mean the newcomer?” Hanco*ck said, surprised. “The quiet one who practises medicine? She’s been real useful around here."

"And this one seems to be particularly happy to see her when he’s not working,” Fahrenheit said with a faint smirk. “How is the mercenary work coming? Are you still having trouble getting clients?”

“Not so much since I’ve been laying lower,” MacCready paused in thought. “Although it’s not as many as one’d hope, all things considered.”

“Well, you’ve done me a good job,” Hanco*ck said, standing up and walking over to his desk, rummaging around in it. “And don’t let Fahrenheit get to you. I ain’t going to ask you to die for us. Knowing we got a serial killer on the loose is enough information for me, don’t need you to find the man.”

“Eh,” Fahrenheit said with a shrug, twirling her knife in her hands. “I wouldn’t mind getting my eyes on him. Who knows…maybe he’d even be fascinating to talk to. Never thought I’d hear of anyone who kills raiders to use their blood as paint…then again, I’ve heard stranger.”

Hanco*ck eyed her strangely. “I can’t tell if you’re being serious or just trying to pull a fast one on the guy. Could be the alcohol, but I ain’t sure you’re kidding.”

Fahrenheit frowned. “You’ve got more than just alcohol in your system right now. You were playing with jet earlier, and I doubt you don’t still have at least a little in you.”

“Either way, you ain’t got anything to worry about, MacCready,” Hanco*ck said, pulling two bags out of the desk and turning back over towards him. “As for the business with the paintings…well, they say artistic inspiration is ephemeral, am I right?”

MacCready gagged. “I really don’t want to think about what I saw in there more than I have to.”

“Fair enough,” Hanco*ck tossed one of the bags to him. “That’s the caps, exactly five hundred. Wish I could say this whole blood painting thing is the most twisted thing I’ve ever heard of, but it’s not quite. Ranks up there, though…top three for sure. I’ll put the word out, tell people to stay clear of that area.”

Fahrenheit snorted. “Because people in this town are going to stay clear of an area notorious for raiders. Half the people in this town get off on putting themselves in physical peril.”

“They’ll listen,” Hanco*ck said, waving her off. “This whole thing is messed up, even for this town.”

“It is,” Fahrenheit agreed, then rolling her eyes. “But since when has that ever stopped anyone around here?”

“Either way, glad it’s over and you’re back in one piece,” Hanco*ck sat down next to MacCready before handing him the second bag. “That’s the ammo…and a few other things. We may joke around and all, but Fahrenheit and I do care about you. Take the woman out, the one you’ve started waiting for in the Third Rail. I’ll even make Charlie go easy on you.”

“Thanks, Hanco*ck,” MacCready did his best to hide his smile. “I think I will.”

Why can’t I stop thinking about you, Annette?

Diamond City
March the 20th, 2288
12:18

When CW-928, unit model ‘Mister Handy,’ better known as Codsworth, followed the leader of the Minutemen into Diamond City, happiness took over his systems. It’s jolly good of Mister Garvey to accompany me to Diamond City, just so I can see Miss Nora. I’m so proud of the work she’s done, and how she has refused to give up on Mister Nate and young Shaun. I’ve simply missed her. A few of the city’s residents took notice of the newcomers, a few surprised to see someone travelling alongside a pre-War robot. Most of them, however, were simply curious about the newcomers, particularly considering one of them was dressed distinctly and carrying a laser musket. Preston smiled, and a few of the people smiled back. He paused to talk to Codsworth, and soon the robot happily went off to find and see Nora. Preston watched him off, and then holstered his laser musket before swinging it behind his back with his bag. Being back in Diamond City was strange, it always was, but it never ceased to give him hope. He breathed a sigh of relief when he saw Cait step out of a building nearby and make for Power Noodles. She’s a sweet woman, but she’s been through so much. It’s good to know she’s at least alright, and, hopefully, she’ll be able to begin on the road to healing. After a minute, lost in thought, he turned around and began up the stairs to the upper stands. He tipped his hat at the Diamond City security guards he passed, and then waited outside the door to the home of a family he had come to know well, knocking on the door. Soon enough, a petite woman opened the door, and smiled.

“I wasn’t expecting you to be back so soon, Preston!” Hadley Branson exclaimed, waving him into the home. “How are you doing? I heard from Derek you and Cait fought off the raiders in the Combat Zone. Are you doing alright? Has your shoulder healed up?”

Preston smiled. “I’m just fine,” He assured her while she shut and locked the door behind him. “It wasn’t too severe. I was even able to go to Goodneighbour to have a drink with Cait afterwards.”

“Good,” Hadley said, though her face suddenly fell. “I feel awful we didn’t know Cait was tied to that damn place by some bullsh*t contract. I wish she’d told us, Derek and I would have bought her out of it and given her the freedom she deserves without a second thought.”

“From what she told me, it’s a pride thing,” Preston shook his head. “She wanted to get out on her own, and didn’t want to impose on you and your husband. Some people are just wired that way. Regardless, I’m just glad she’s free to live her life in whatever way she wants, now. I take it you talked with her?”

Hadley sighed. “I did,” She said, grabbing him a Nuka Cola when he sat down on the couch. “She’s in better spirits than I’ve ever seen her, although I think it was partially because she was getting ready to go to some sort of party Vadim was throwing her at the Dugout Inn. Still…”

“Hads, it’s alright. What’s important is she’s free now.”

Preston smiled when he saw Derek come down from the third floor of the large home, looping an arm affectionately around his wife the moment she was within close reach. Hadley giggled a little and leaned up onto the tips of her toes to kiss him before she went into the kitchen to get a second Nuka Cola for her husband and a third for herself. Derek sat down on one of the chairs across from the couch Preston was sat on, taking the moment to enjoy his Nuka Cola. When Hadley came back, she had two bottles of Nuka Cola in one hand, and a small plate of crackers and a few chocolates. Derek took the Nuka Cola Dark from his wife, who herself had a Nuka Cola Cherry. For a minute, she fidgeted with the cap, twisting it back and forth between her fingers before finally taking it off, dropping the cap into her pocket. Every so often, she glanced at the Pip-Boy on her wrist, and her hands tapped up and down the Nuka Cola Cherry bottle in her hands. She slowly sipped on it, trying to quell her nerves. Eventually, after she managed to relax herself a little, she sat down on the chair beside her husband. Derek reached over and reassuringly patted her hands, and Preston, growing worried, looked between the two of them nervously, the sense of something being wrong rising by the minute.

“Are you alright, Hadley?” Preston said, setting down his Nuka Cola on the table in between him and her and her husband. “You seem more anxious than usual. Has something happened?”

“It’s the Brotherhood,” She said. “As I’m sure you, Derek, and the Minutemen have discussed, the Brotherhood’s presence in the Commonwealth has been…growing.”

Preston grimaced. “We’ve had a few encounters,” He admitted. “After leaving Cait following our drinks in Goodneighbour, I went to check in on the Abernathy family. Apparently, they received a very unexpected and unwelcome visit from a few Brotherhood scouts.”

“Field Scribes, most likely,” Derek said, pausing to take a sip of his Nuka Cola Dark. “I’m not surprised there are more of them, recently, considering we’ve seen a few vertibirds. Sturges said he got to investigate a wreck near Concord?”

“He did,” Preston said, shaking his head. “He found a lot of interesting things, including documents, and he recovered some information from the remains of the flight navigation computer. He said it looked like the vertibird had crashed, potentially because of foul play by nearby raiders. But, other than that, he’s still analysing what he’s recovered from the wreckage.”

Hadley frowned. “So, that’s it? The Brotherhood aren't holding back?”

“I’m not sure,” Preston said, turning to Derek. “You think they’re just looking for technology? Or do you think they’re here for something else?”

Derek hesitated. “I wouldn’t say this to anyone else, because I don’t want to scare or discourage the rest of the Minutemen,” He slowly began. “But I’m inclined to believe the Brotherhood are preparing to come to the Commonwealth in full force. Why they are doing so is beyond me, though.”

“I’ll make sure we stay as far away from them as possible until we know more, then,” Preston said, taking off his hat to run a hand through his hair. “We don’t want to mess with those guys.”

“We don’t,” Derek said, pushing up his glasses. “After Elder Lyons died, shortly after the Enclave were defeated, the Brotherhood had a series of ineffective leader after leader, all the more selfish than the last. I don’t know who’s their leader now, as I’ve had no desire to keep up on the Brotherhood’s activities after my family and I moved here. At the end of the day, though, I wouldn’t trust in the good intentions of the Brotherhood.”

“From what I heard about their interaction with the Abernathy family, I agree,” Preston said, picking up and taking a long sip of his Nuka Cola. “The Brotherhood Scribes,” He eventually said. “Informed the family the Brotherhood may ‘request’ supplies and food from them. I use the word request loosely, because they made no attempt to hide how many resources the Brotherhood has to…get their way. I’m hoping it never comes to a point where we have to fight with the Brotherhood, but I worry it could become unavoidable. We have enough to worry about, between raiders, gunners, and God knows what else comes out and about in the Commonwealth.”

“The Brotherhood have done good, and I’ll never deny that,” Hadley said, hands shaking as she kept drinking her Nuka Cola Cherry. “And I couldn’t be more proud of my husband’s service, especially in the war against the Enclave. That said, the Brotherhood have lost their way. Things were fraying towards the end of Lyons' life, but they fell apart completely after his death. If they’re coming into the Commonwealth…then I’m not sure I want to know why.”

The Institute
March the 21st, 2288
21:24

Though not one for much socialising, there were a few people in the Institute Dr. Madison Li not only worked well with but genuinely liked.

One of them was dead, and his death was something she did her best not to ruminate on. Apart from him, there was the first girl she trained personally in applied physics, Dr. Rosalind Orman. There was also the second girl she trained personally in applied and theoretical physics, Jacqueline Spencer, who was well on her way to earning her doctorate. Then, there were her colleagues, Janet Thompson, and Allie and Nathan Filmore. The three of them were some of the few people she enjoyed conversation with outside of work. I certainly can’t say that about anyone else I work with. Even the working relationships that were perfectly professional could be draining. Dr. Evan Watson, for example, was incredibly good to work with, at least when it came to precision and organisation. Following his notes on Advanced Systems projects, but especially in his area of expertise, nuclear physics, was a smooth process, and he did his job quietly and without much complaint, even with the power cutbacks ahead of completing and implementing Phase Three. His curiosity and constant questions about her past, particularly regarding the Brotherhood, however, were irritating at best and intrusive at worst. Dr. Enrico Thompson, while cordial and perfectly reasonable in all of their interactions, was someone she didn’t have much in the way of an opinion on other than him being a more than competent and intelligent person. That was, she knew, the way she felt about the majority of people in the Institute, whether she worked personally with them or not.

Then there were the handful of people she could not stand, and whom, instead, she genuinely despised. At the top of that list, without question, was Dr. Justin Ayo.

“I still don’t understand why Dr. Ayo thinks it’s in his place to invade everyone else’s privacy,” Allie Filmore sighed, sharing an exasperated look with Janet and Madison. “It’s exhausting, and entirely unnecessary.”

“Unnecessary would be putting it lightly,” Madison said darkly, sitting down on the couch in her apartment across from where Janet and Allie were already sat on the other. “It would be irritating enough if he had stuck to sending Coursers into everyone else's laboratories. It’s intrusive and well over stepping for him to send them into people’s homes to rummage through everything.”

“I’m surprised Father didn’t shut him down immediately,” Janet remarked. “He pushed back a little, but he hadn’t begun to actually take serious action to stop him until recently, and only after you and Allie complained about it to him.”

“Binet had words with him about it too,” Madison said. “Although, if he didn’t want people to eye him strangely, he wouldn’t constantly be talking about his relationship with Eve. Liam’s too, come to think of it.”

“I’d usually not judge how someone grieves, but the way Alan talks about Eve is just depressing, at times,” Janet shook her head. “He really can’t let go of what happened to the real Eve. Doesn't help he nearly died shortly after she did during a surface job where he was needed to ensure delicate, pre-War robotic materials were collected without being damaged. He changed a lot after that and her death, especially where his son is concerned. From what I’ve heard, his biggest fear is leaving Liam without a family. I guess, knowing his son nearly lost both of his parents in a matter of a few months, it's no wonder he views the surface as hell. It almost left Liam alone.”

“The surface can be hell,” Madison told her. “But there are places where it’s perfectly normal. I certainly wouldn’t go back to life there, though, particularly with what we know about the Brotherhood’s movements.”

“What they want with the Commonwealth is beyond me,” Allie said, hesitating for a moment. “Other than apparently wanting to damage the Institute, I can’t fathom any reason for them to be here.”

“Even if they weren’t, more than likely, planning to interfere with our work, the Brotherhood would be interested in the Commonwealth for no other reason than having a desire to gather more information and technology for themselves,” Madison said bitterly. “I originally left the Brotherhood because I was tired of being stepped on and used. Namely, there was the water purification project, designed to freely benefit the entire Capital Wasteland, and farther south and a bit farther north. Even though the Brotherhood allowed it to be activated, they wanted to control it. The Brotherhood don’t give a damn about anyone they step on in the process of getting what they want, and all they're good for is winning wars which, in the case of the Enclave, was good, noble, and necessary. Going after the Institute is not.”

“I can only imagine the stress of all that,” Allie frowned at the thought. “For people who claim to care about the Commonwealth, they seem to have complete disregard for the lives of people actually living here.”

“It’s how they’ve always operated, and why I’ve never trusted them,” Madison said, doing her best to curb her anger. “I can name the people in the Brotherhood I have ever respected on one hand, and only one of them is, I imagine, still alive and, most likely, left them for similar reasons to why I did. Either way, I find it almost funny how Justin acts towards me. If it weren’t for him, I’d have forgotten just how much I missed the intimidation and threats.”

“It’s awful. I’m sure anyone would leave after going through what you did,” Janet said sympathetically. “Why Dr. Ayo can’t see that is beyond me. The way he’s accused and treated you since you became part of the Directorate is madness. And the fact he won’t even consider Dr. Binet’s third generation synth sentience conjecture is simply unscientific.”

“Justin is never willing to consider anything going outside of his very narrow worldview, particularly if it won’t benefit him,” Madison said irritably. “For as much of a nuisance as he was to my research, and to everyone in the Capital Wasteland, I rather miss Dr. Zimmer. I’d even prefer his condescension to Justin’s, considering he never pretended to simply be having everyone’s best interests in mind.”

“Everyone would prefer Dr. Zimmer to be in charge instead of Justin, certainly at this point,” Allie sighed. “I’m tired of constantly having to remind him the SRB needs to cut back on power consumption just like everyone else, and his increasing intrusiveness on everyone else’s lives is frustrating to say the least.”

“I still can’t believe he said he thinks Quentin should have died,” Janet said. “What kind of heartless son of a bitch wishes death on a child?”

“Well, the good thing is none of us can understand that,” Madison replied. “We’re, at least in that case, not the problem. For as much as Quentin needs to learn to calm down and focus, he’s just a little boy.”

“I had Shaun tell Justin exactly that,” Allie said, running a hand through her hair. “I have enough to do, keeping Facilities running, Phase Three on track, the current and primary reactor online, trying to figure out what’s going on with Quentin, and I’m six months pregnant. If Justin thinks inconveniencing everyone else and being cruel to other people’s children is within the realm of his actual job, then he should rethink what he’s doing.”

“I don’t often agree with Dr. Binet and some of the…things I wish he didn’t tell people about his feelings towards Eve, let alone some of what I wish I could forget him saying about their conjugal relationship, but he was absolutely right to tell Justin, if he’s not careful, he’ll be demoted when Zimmer returns,” Madison rolled her eyes. “I have no idea what goes on in Shaun’s head, and I don’t think anyone but his father does. That said, he tends to have good judgement, and I wouldn’t be surprised if he has Zimmer return to his usual job, keeps Secord as second in the Division, and puts Justin down to third.”

“That would be satisfying to see,” Janet laughed. “I’m sure Enrico would be thrilled to see Justin told he’s not more important than everyone else, and certainly not after he had Coursers in Alice and Julia’s room at four in the morning last week.”

“Because that’s a brilliant way to convince everyone you care about our safety and security,” Madison said dryly. “I’ve been lied to countless times over the years, but the way he does it annoys me more than it usually does.”

Allie nodded. “And there’s a reason everyone else in the Directorate agrees with that sentiment.”

“It’s aggravating,” Madison paused, briefly hesitating. “And, considering I’ve spent nearly the last decade looking over my shoulder because of the Brotherhood, the ‘reasons’ he gives to try and justify all of this make everything even worse.”

Chapter 13: Something Unsteady

Chapter Text

Goodneighbour
March the 23rd, 2288
18:11

“This is madness, but sit down, the both of you, in the memory loungers.”

Glory swallowed hard, and looked to Deacon, who gave her a reassuring wink before sitting down in one of the two memory loungers Amari kept in her personal office. She glanced between the two of them, trepidation rising through her chest. The memory loungers work because we translate memories and brain waves from the brain to computers and back. With Glory’s synth brain being between robotic programming and a normal organic brain, it should, theoretically, be easier to manipulate and identify where she is unable to consciously recall things. If Deacon can enter her mind, he should be able to bypass whatever failsafe the Institute puts into their synths to prevent them from recalling certain information. Synths have cybernetic enhancements that interface directly with their brains, so, if this is successful, Deacon should be able to bypass the Institute’s blockages in her mind…but if something goes wrong, it could leave her brain dead, living but with no cognition. If that happens…I suspect Desdemona will never forgive me. Deny it as she will, she is in love with Glory, and likely Glory with her. With a frown, Amari lowered the screens of the memory loungers on Deacon and Glory, attaching the nodules to their heads. Then, she returned to her computer, and began the process of linking the memory loungers. Glory’s words still worried her, something about her desire to access the entirety of her memories feeling wrong.

I was never mind wiped! Amari, I have inside knowledge of the Institute I can’t access any other way, and they’re the biggest scientific secret of the Commonwealth! You need this just as much as we do!

“I’m linking you to each other’s brainwaves now,” Amari warned them. “Glory, I’m going to need you to keep talking to me. Any slight changes to your cognitive functions could be dire.”

“Don’t worry,” She said, closing her eyes. “I will.”

“Deacon,” Amari sent him a sharp look. “As I already told the both of you, the encryption is too strong for a single mind, but, if we use two, it may be possible to bypass that encryption. I’ll be running your cognitive functions in parallel, and Glory will serve as the host for your consciousness to drive through whatever memories we can find. Are the both of you ready? I won’t do this without your explicit, verbal consent.”

“More than ready,” Glory told her. “I’ve been ready for years.”

“Just what she said,” Deacon said. “Well, just not for nearly as long as she has.”

Amari sighed. “Alright. Wait just a moment. Glory…” She looked between her computer and the woman in the lounger. “Can you hear me?”

“Yes,” She said though it was Deacon’s voice that came through. “Woah, this is weird as f*ck.”

“The simulation is working,” She assured him. “Remember, you are experiencing these memories as Glory, which may prove disorienting. I’m linking you through the earliest memories I can find. What are you seeing?”

“Something weird,” Deacon’s voice said, a bit static. “I was in a room. Grey. White. Silver. Lots of metal…and machines.”

“Matches what I’m seeing on my computer,” Amari mused, typing quickly. “Keeping talking. I need to ensure neither of you lose consciousness.”

“There’s…”

Unable to see himself, Deacon meandered in circles in the room he was caught in within Glory’s mind. A bit dizzy, he started towards the other end of the room where a door was, and swore when he couldn’t open it. Unable to force it open, he took another look around. All around him, everything was clean. Things were organised, and the computer terminals seemed to be just about brand new. There was a quiet hum of machinery, and two couches with a coffee table in between them. The doors to the room suddenly opened, and a sign could briefly be seen. Robotics Division. A tall man in a hazmat suit came in, the hood down and his face visible. He looked somewhere between forty five and fifty five, had greying dirty blonde hair and thick eyebrows. He seemed to be in quite the good mood, and it was then he saw Glory was following closely behind him. She didn’t look quite the same. She was dressed in a strange, heavy looking uniform, and her hair was dark brown and tied up in a neat bun at the top of her head. She seemed almost emotionless, exhausted. The doors slid shut behind them, but no more than a few seconds after they closed, they slid open again. A short woman in a blue and white lab coat came into the room, though, Deacon was sure, stormed would have been a more apt description. Her mostly grey black hair was styled in a neat and sophisticated bun, and something in her eyes implied a sense of authority and irritability. When Glory was sat down on one of the couches and the man on the other across from her, the woman stood near them, arms crossed.

“Dr. Binet, have you analysed what G7-81 recovered from its last mission?” The woman said sharply. “I am tired of constantly having to remind you of the importance of those samples of pre-War, military technology for my Division.”

“Advanced Systems will receive the information by the end of the day tomorrow,” The man called Dr. Binet said. “I’m sorry for the delay, Dr. Li, but I got rather distracted.”

“Distracted?” The woman called Dr. Li frowned. “Sounds more like you’re wasting my time. You do understand the need for that information for Phase Three, don’t you? Or do you need to be reminded of your job?”

“G7-81 required extra debriefing because her mission was not only recovery of the technology but synth retention,” Dr. Binet irritably said. “She’s a Courser, first and foremost. I think I speak for both of us when I say neither of us want to get yelled at by Dr. Ayo for interfering in a Courser’s objective.”

Dr. Li sighed. “G7-81 is also crucial to synth development. If we want to improve our Coursers, we need to be able to find ways to enhance them, and pre-War technology, but especially military technology, is the strongest source of information and technique. Speaking of which, has G7-81 received its new Courser chip? It should improve its ability to use the Molecular Relay.”

“She has,” Dr. Binet said proudly. “We implemented the new type of Courser chip in a few other Coursers, and they’ve vastly improved contact for the retrieval and resetting of escaped units.”

“Good,” Dr. Li said coldly. “Now, unless you have something for me, I’ll return to my laboratory. I have a great deal to work on for Phase Three, and I’m tired of being set back because of everyone else’s ‘distractions.' I'm sure Dr. Filmore and Dr. Holdren would agree. You and Dr. Ayo are the bane of our existences, at the moment, and the three of us have the majority opinion as members of the Directorate. It’s –”

Suddenly, everything dissipated.

Deacon began gasping for air, his limbs feeling numb.

Something was injected into him.

The room came back into focus, followed by the face of Dr. Amari.

He blinked, and then keeled over to the side, and threw up.

“Just as I feared,” Amari shook her head. “The side effects are nasty. Deacon? Can you hear me? I injected you with a very large stimpak, so you should hopefully –“

“I can hear you,” He got through, still retching. “God damn it, Amari, I feel like sh*t…is Glory –”

“Right here,” A shaky voice said, sounding as though sobs were imminent. “I…”

“I cut the running of the memory loungers and your cognitive functions in parallel the second you stopped speaking,” Amari looked between the two of them, and sat them down on two of the small, plush chairs in her office, near the doors. “You both are likely to feel sick and disoriented for a while, but shouldn’t suffer long term damage. Rest. I mean that. If you both don’t rest, you’ll be significantly worse off. Make that clear to Desdemona.”

Deacon nodded. “Got it,” He said, rubbing his head. “f*ck though. That was…”

“I hurt them…” Glory whispered, blinking back tears. “I hurt other synths…and I…I probably helped the Institute kill them.”

Diamond City
March the 26th, 2288
11:43

Cait had not been joking.

With most of the city already alive and going out and about below, it wasn’t too hard for her, Nick, and Nora to sneak up to the home formerly belonging to Conrad Kellogg. Even better, Cait was almost scarily nimble with a bobby pin, and cracked the lock in no more than a minute. The three of them took one last look around to ensure they weren’t being followed, and then went inside, locking the door behind them. Nick flicked on the light switch, and, after a few seconds of struggle, the lights in the home came on. For a fellow like Kellogg, this place seems awfully small. Goes double what with him having a kid with him. A little cold from the draft in the house, Nick slid his hands into the pockets of his trench coat. In a sweater and jeans, Nora seemed unbothered or at the very least unfazed by the cold, more so preoccupied with inspecting the various items left behind. There were far more than any of them had anticipated, strewn messily about, several of them covered in dust or grime. The most relaxed of all of them was, unsurprisingly, Cait, who didn’t seem to notice the cold at all, having wrapped her jacket over her shoulders with only her favourite corset and comfortable pants and boots on beneath it. Cold aside, there was something odd about some of what was left behind. When she picked up a box of Fancy Lads Snack Cakes, Cait raised an eyebrow and held it up, poking at it a bit suspiciously.

“This looks like it’s never been exposed to anything, no rads, nothing,” Cait grinned when Nora came over to take a look at it and nodded in agreement. “Think they’re still good?”

“I won’t be the first one to try them, but maybe,” Nora said, managing a faint laugh. “If they’re still good, I won’t object to having one.”

“Me either,” Nick said, picking up and sniffing the bottle on the desk. “This is expensive, at least out here. Where do you reckon Kellogg got his hands on any Sunset Sarsaparilla?”

“Not sure, not sure I want to know,” Cait shuddered. “I haven’t ever been out west, but from what me friends have said, it ain’t a place you want to be. Anyone who brings that out here probably makes a f*cking good fortune.”

“It isn’t a secret Kellogg has money,” Nick set down the bottle. “But I still don’t know who he could possibly get to sell him this.”

“Or these,” Nora said darkly, handing him a pack of cigars. “San Fransisco Sunlights? Even before the War, not many people out here smoked these.”

“I tried ‘em, once, a few years back,” Cait said with a wink. “Stole ‘em off one of Tommy’s friends at the Combat Zone. They’re alright, but real heavy.”

Nora eyed her strangely for a moment. “Have you tried every drug ever made?”

“That I can get me hands on,” Cait replied, wrapping an arm around her waist, briefly startling Nora though she leaned into her a little once she was steady again. “Don’t worry, beautiful, I won’t ask you to try any with me. I like to experiment on my own.”

“I…I’m sure,” Nora said, flinching when a familiar yet distant feeling of warmth began to come over her being. Why am I…am I feeling – “Thanks, Cait,” She finally said, pushing aside the want to lean into her again when Cait released her. “I…”

“Don’t you worry,” Cait said with a smile. “I won’t go off and do anything too stupid. I want to be around to see you happy and back to enjoying life.”

“I hope I’ll be there soon,” Nora sighed, glancing around the house. “At least, consistently, anyways. Feeling…well, anything…it never seems to last long enough.”

“After everything you’ve been through, makes sense,” Cait said, dropping the box of snack cakes to set her hands on Nora’s shoulders, gently massaging them. “I know it ain’t necessarily the point, but just remember – your shoulders ain’t earrings, they aren’t supposed to be all the way up at your ears.”

Nora weakly smiled. “I’ll try to remember that. Seems I’ve always held tension there.”

“Lot of us do,” Cait grazed the woman’s cheek with the back of her hand. “I know this all must be difficult for you. I…I’m here if you need to talk.”

“I…I might need to take you up on that at some point,” Nora hesitated. “I don’t know. Everything seems blurry, some days, almost dizzying, really. Seems, half the time I try to stand up in the morning, I get painfully dizzy."

“Take it easy, slow,” Nick turned to her worriedly. “I know you want to find them, but you won’t be able to do any of that if you make yourself sick. Whatever time you need to rest up, take it. Especially if we’re going to be tracking down a son of a bitch like Kellogg.”

Nora nodded. “I know. God…if he’s done something to them, if he…”

“If you need him dead, I’ll happily do the job,” Cait said, letting her go before starting towards the stairs up to the loft. “Sounds like he’s more than earnt a death warrant.”

“Don’t be careless,” Nick cautioned her. “Kellogg could have serious information if the kid isn’t with him, especially. If either of them aren’t with him, I’m sure he’ll have at least some intel, but I don’t see a way in hell he doesn’t have a ton of information about the kid.”

Nora winced. “If he’s hurt Shaun, I don’t care what he knows. As soon as he tells me where he is, if he hurt my baby, I will send him to hell.”

“Certainly would deserve it,” Nick paused, fighting with a file cabinet before managing to pry it open. Files fell to the floor, all seemingly old, finished contracts. “Well, I’m starting to get the sense Kellogg has killed even more people than we already thought.”

“Question is why,” Cait frowned, hopping down from the loft to take a look at the papers. “Wait…Nicky, take a look at the dates on these. How old is Kellogg again?”

“No more than fifty, from the looks of it,” Nick glanced to Nora. “Where would you put him at?”

“Between forty seven and sixty at the most,” Nora said, surprised when her voice slipped into the same tone she had used in the courtroom. “But I sincerely doubt he’s sixty. If he is, then he looks a hell of a lot younger than he is.”

“Ain’t a chance he’s in his forties,” Cait said darkly, handing Nora a couple of files when she came over and knelt down to examine them too. “Check this sh*t out. Jobs as far south as the former Capital, and from 2219. The f*ck’s going on with this sh*te head?”

Nora began flipping furiously through the files. Years passed by, with more and more gaps between jobs after 2225. 2219. 2220. 2221. 2222. 2223. 2224. 2225. 2227. 2230. 2232. 2233 –

“This is impossible!” Nora dropped the files in disbelief. “How could he…”

“We know he ain’t a synth,” Nick said, taking off his hat for a moment and using it to fan his face. “I’ve been up close and personal with him before. As one myself, I’m pretty damn good at spotting synths, even the ones that are basically human. Not to mention I managed to take an X-Ray of his chest and brain once by…questionable means when he went to see Dr. Sun about something. There were some unconformities in there, but he’s human. And he also ain’t a ghoul…which leaves us with only a couple of options.”

Cait frowned. “A couple of options? Seems pretty damn clear he ain’t either of the two things that’d mean he could be as old as it seems he is.”

“Is it possible he’s simply lucky?” Nora glanced to Nick. “Could he have been exposed to the same kind of radiation as a ghoul but still not take on their appearance?”

Nick considered that. “Possibly,” He said. “But I think the more likely situation is he’s had some kind of treatment, something to significantly slow ageing, or even cybernetic enhancements. Which would mean another thing – in either of those cases, he has to be working for the Institute. They’re the only group of people in the Commonwealth who could pull off keeping a human in their prime for decades.”

“f*ck…” Nora stood up, running her hands through her hair. “Damn it. Is this a dead end?”

“We’ll keep looking around here as long as it takes,” Cait reassured her. “We’ll figure it out…and where the bastard went. He deserves to get sent right to hell.”

Nora smiled a little. “I…Cait, you’re too sweet. I really appreciate you, and everything you’ve done for me. Honestly…I didn’t expect any of this.”

“That’s what makes life worth living,” Cait said, looping her arms around Nora’s neck. “You’re a good lass, and deserve more than you’ve gotten. Much more.”

Nora nodded, her chest rising and falling rapidly.

Why don’t I want her to let me go?

Goodneighbour
March the 30th, 2288
21:00

“There you are. Almost thought you forgot about me.”

MacCready smiled when Annette laughed, followed by surprise when she helped him up from where he had been sitting at the bar and brought him over to a couch, hiding something behind her back. When the two of them were sat down, she handed him the box she had been hiding behind her back with a wink. After a few seconds of hesitation, he tugged the top off the box and reached inside, nearly dropping it in surprise. A new .44 pistol and ammunition bag. He pulled open the bag only to look up at her, stunned, when he saw it was filled all the way up, and organised. Turning back to the box, he then pulled out a blanket with something wrapped inside it, and his eyebrows raised when he saw it was concealing a full medical kit, including some he barely recognised from when they had occasionally passed through Little Lamplight. When he looked back to Annette, she was smiling and had brushed her long hair over her left shoulder. For a moment, he could only stare at her, taking everything in. Her light brown hair was almost auburn in the low light of the Third Rail, her pale skin almost sparkling, and her grey eyes soft and delicate, just like every other part of her body. He startled when she reached over and rested a warm hand over his, only to sigh when he saw the concern on her face when she gently squeezed his hand.

“Are you alright?” Annette said gently. “You seem a little…caught off guard.”

“I just didn’t expect…” MacCready shook his head. “You didn’t have to get me anything. It’s only –”

“First night or not, I’ve done my research,” Annette said with a small smile. “Happy twenty third birthday, Bobby.”

“Did you…” He laughed, though his mind began to wander. Why do I…why did I want to kiss her the second she called me Bobby? “Daisy told you, didn’t she?”

“Actually,” Annette slightly tilted her head towards where Magnolia was on stage singing. “I may have talked to Magnolia about you a bit. Daisy, too…but I think we both know who I spend a lot of time with. At least since I’ve been here, that is.”

“I take it you don’t like being alone?” MacCready sighed when she nodded. “I…well. I get it. I really do. I don’t know what anyone around here has told you but…for as much as I know I may tend to be a pain the a…I mean, I know I could come off as…arrogant and like I want to be left alone but…nothing could be further from the truth. Being alone scares the heck out of me.”

“Sounds to me that the two of us are pretty similar,” Annette hesitated. “I’ve been told the same thing. But...just because some people may think so doesn’t mean it’s true. And, if it helps…after what you told me about your son, I…I wasn’t sure what to do. I really hope any of the medications in that box can help.”

MacCready glanced between her and the blanket and sealed up medications.

“I don’t think anyone’s ever…well, other than my…” He swallowed hard. “You know something? You’re one of the first people who has seemed to care about me for more than just themselves in a long time. I can probably name the people who do on one hand. I…I don’t know what to say.”

“Sometimes we don’t,” She shrugged. “But the important thing is you know. And, besides,” She winked. “I wouldn’t have left someone so sweet alone on their birthday, all other things be damned.”

“You’re really something else,” He said, putting everything back in the box before setting it aside to wrap an arm around her. “I…hope I’m not being too…well –”

“You have full consent to hug me,” Annette said, curling up against him, her legs rising to rest on the couch. “Can I be honest? It’s…it’s been a very long time since anyone has been…even slightly romantic towards me.”

“Honestly? I’m in the same place,” MacCready paused, resting a hand over hers when it grazed against his thigh. “I…as I think I already told you, my wife…she died a few years back, and –"

Annette suddenly pulled away. “Oh, God, I –” She raised a hand to her mouth, a little shaky. “I’m so sorry…” She whispered. “I should have…I’m being too –”

“Annette, you’re fine, please, don’t…” MacCready fell silent before reaching over to slowly lower her hand. “What I was trying to say is, yes, it’s true, I miss Lucy to death, but…at some point, we have to move on. Look, I…I’ve gone from casual thing this to casual thing that for a little while now, but I haven’t felt…truly interested in anyone since you first came into this damn…sorry, I mean, this place. I want to see if things can pan out. You’re not hurting me. If you were, I promise, I’d tell you.”

“Alright,” Annette said hesitantly, surprised when he wrapped an arm around her, resting one hand on her shoulder and brushing her hair away from her eyes with the other. “The last thing I want is to hurt you.”

“And you’re not,” MacCready shook his head. “I haven’t wanted to be around someone in this way for a while, let alone…you want in on a secret?”

Annette glanced up at him. “If you want to tell me, then of course.”

“I wasn’t sure you would come tonight, especially because of…the way people see me around here,” He said, giving her a gentle squeeze. “You being here at all is more than enough, for now. We don’t have to go too fast into anything. We can go as slow as either of us need.”

“I’d like that…” Annette briefly closed her eyes when she rested her head on his shoulder. “I’ve spent a lot of my life…at least, since I was nineteen, running away. There aren’t many people who I’ve not wanted to run from and you’re one of them.”

MacCready smiled and, impulsively, pressed a light kiss to her forehead.

“Like I said, I think we’re both just kids who grew up way too fast,” He said gently. “And having you this close to me, right now, is making me happier than I’ve been in a long time.”

If I could, if I knew for sure it won’t scare her, I’d cup her cheek and kiss her right now. Why…why am I so happy to have her by my side, even if it’s just for tonight? She –

“I…hope you mean that,” Annette said, a hint of dejection in her voice. “After…you know I killed someone I shouldn’t have a few weeks ago. How does it not bother you?”

“Because you didn’t have a choice,” MacCready sighed. “She would have killed you if you hadn’t killed her. Annette…” He went silent, for a minute. “If it’s not too much to ask, what are you running from? For me, it’s always been loss. I never knew my parents, didn’t know what to do after I was on my own at fifteen, lost my wife, could lose my son…and I keep running away because, honestly? I don’t think I even know how to properly cope, at this point.”

Annette briefly startled when he took both of her hands in his, her heart rate suddenly spiking.

“If I’m being completely honest,” She finally said. “I’ve been running from feeling like an inconvenience and a disruption in the lives of everyone I care about, and that’s the last thing I’ve ever wanted.”

“I get that,” He said, his mind wandering again. “There are more days than not where I feel like I’m that to my son. Some days…it’s hard to face him.”

“From everything I’ve heard, he adores you. Honestly, I…” Annette looked up at him, sounding almost embarrassed. “I’d love to meet him, and…if there’s anything I can do to help him, to help you heal him up, let me know.”

MacCready stared at her, stunned. “You’d really do that for me?”

“Of course,” Annette said softly. “After my father was…after his murder, I promised someone I’d spend the rest of my life doing everything I can to help anyone who needs it. And…I really hope I’ll be able to talk to her again, one day. Her name is Dr. Madison Li. She was the one who...after everything, she was the one who brought me back home to the Vault after two years away. I owe her a great deal...including having helped me escape the Brotherhood. But, I suppose what I...I mean to say...” She shifted to take off his hat and lightly tread her hands through his hair. Then, she kissed him, feeling warm when he kissed her back. “I never break a promise.”

The Institute
April the 3rd, 2288
19:28

“I’m glad I convinced you to wait a year, before we let your mother out,” Nate said, passing his son a glass of wine before sitting down across from him. “According to M7-62, she’s already asking about Kellogg, and specifically his former home there.”

Shaun raised an eyebrow. “That’s certainly wonderful news. I hope it’s a good sign. The sooner mother finds us, the better.”

“I agree,” Nate said happily. “Your mother is nothing if not resilient and persistent. It’s one of the things I’ve always loved about her. Even in the worst of times, she has been able to prove people wrong. I…I don’t think I would have found my reason to live after everything I…saw while in Alaska without her. She, and, later, you are the reason I’ve kept living. My life isn’t meant to be lived for only myself, none of ours are. It’s meant to be lived alongside others and find love beyond just your periphery.”

“The more you tell me about here, the more I can’t wait to meet her,” Shaun said, almost absentmindedly swirling the wine glass. “She sounds like a wonderful woman. I’m proud either way of her, and being able to call her my mother.”

“And, when she finds us, I know she’ll be incredibly proud to call you her son,” Nate said, leaning back against the soft chair he was sat in. “Not only are our surroundings a reminder of what science and willpower can accomplish, but of what people can do when given the chance to explore what truly interests them. Just look at Dr. Li. After years of struggling to get away from the Brotherhood Of Steel, she found us, here, in the Institute.”

“Dr. Li, and the thousands of others like her, people we’ve brought into the Institute from above, is a brilliant mind,” Shaun said, slowly beginning to sip at his wine. “Every year, we bring in at least a few new minds, and every time they surprise me. It’s a tradition of all of my predecessors as Director which I am more than happy to continue. It’s what has sustained us.”

“It is,” Nate agreed. “And the Institute bringing people in is how we have been able to have such a good life. For as much as I resent the methods Conrad used to ensure we made it safely here, and for as much as I lament the separation of our family, I am sure our being able to live our lives here has allowed us to have the fullest and best life possible. Your mother, I’m sure, will agree, and, I hope, will return to us. Return to us and refuse our family.”

“That would be wonderful,” Shaun paused. “But I do wonder…will she reject us, when she learns we aren’t in the way she imagines we are? When she learns it hasn’t been no more than a few years, but, rather, sixty? Nearly sixty one, now. Strange to think about, isn’t it?”

“It is,” Nate said, taking a sip of his own wine. “But I know your mother’s heart. She loves through the entirety of her being. No matter what happens, no matter what she’s been through, she’s never lost her compassion, and I know she never will.”

Shaun nodded. “Another reason to be proud to call her my mother. I do wonder…should we make a direct contact with her before we…”

“Perhaps,” Nate mused. “Though, if we were to do something like that, I don’t know who we would send. She certainly won’t react well if we have Conrad hunt her down. More likely, she’ll kill him.”

“Kellogg is out there, not because of true concern about Dr. Virgil, but because I want mother to kill him,” Shaun said, a hint of anger to his voice. “Kellogg has been a loose end for a long time. Dr. Filmore was right when she said so, as were Dr. Li and Dr. Holdren. As you know, neither of us learnt of all the things Kellogg had done until I became Director. Learning what kind of man he is sparked an anger in me I never even thought I could feel. I will never truly forgive him for what he’s done to our family.”

Nate considered that. “His cruelty has only grown over the years. I hadn’t thought quite as much about him being out there, being a lead for your mother to follow, that way. It’s quite fitting. I certainly am happy to know we will have some amount of revenge.”

“I am as well,” Shaun said sombrely. “Not only that, but, knowing all of the atrocities Kellogg has committed, I cannot stand to let him continue to terrorise the Commonwealth, let alone members of the Institute. I believe that to be especially true, considering there are more than likely many, many more atrocities handed down by Kellogg we’ll never know of. Dr. Ayo was not entirely wrong to say we should continue to take advantage of Kellogg’s vicious nature, but the time has come to pull the plug.”

“Dr. Ayo has been increasingly harsh in his decision making, these last two years,” Nate said with a frown. “I’ve heard the rest of the Directorate remark, every so often, that they miss Dr. Zimmer actively leading the SRB. Dr. Filmore and I spoke yesterday, and I agree with her that, when Dr. Zimmer returns, he should go back to his work as head of the SRB, and Dr. Secord should remain second in seniority with Dr. Ayo dropping to third.”

“I concur,” Shaun shook his head. “Dr. Ayo has been causing significant problems with Advanced Systems and Facilities, particularly where it comes to their necessary power consumption. His constant demands for more priority is exhausting. Dr. Filmore and Dr. Li have the patience of saints.”

“Dr. Filmore does,” Nate said. “But Dr. Li does not. She is a brilliant scientist, and I am constantly pleased to see how effective her leadership of Advanced Systems is. That said, she does have a temper, at times. Not to mention her shocking persistence in probing the subject of Dr. Virgil’s…well, of course, to everyone else, death but, as we know, sabotage.”

“I’m surprised she doesn’t accept the explanation we’ve given the Directorate,” Shaun said, taking another sip of his wine. “It is true his old laboratory is contaminated. We had no choice but to seal it up, for everyone’s safety. We had to decontaminate all the synths we had do the job, and we keep having to send more in and decontaminate those after to work on completely cleaning the laboratory. It’ll be at least another year or two before it’s decontaminated entirely. Dr. Li is rational and immensely intelligent, which is why I don’t understand how or why she’s been unsupportive of the explanation we’ve provided.”

“I’ll admit, I do understand, to an extent, considering Dr. Virgil was one of her closest friends, why Dr. Li has been upset by what transpired,” Nate said. “At the same time, she has moved on in every part of her life, and is working better than ever individually and with her staff. I also don’t understand why she can’t let this go. It certainly can't be healthy for her. The amount of emotional stress it must cause her alone makes me wonder why she can't let it go when that would be the healthiest and most rational thing to do.”

“It’s strange,” Shaun frowned. “I’m well aware Dr. Li has lost a great deal over the years. From people she loved, to family, to friends, I can barely even imagine what she must go through when faced with loss. She has truly been through hell.”

“Precisely,” Nate said, setting down his wine. “Why would we put her through more? Giving her the information of everything that transpired with Dr. Virgil would only horrify and haunt her. She, more than most, doesn’t deserve to suffer anything else.”

“It’s why I have mixed feelings about her travelling to the surface with Miss Spencer when the girl visits her family,” Shaun said with a heavy sigh. “The surface has caused her much pain. However, considering she agreed to be the one to bring Miss Spencer into the Institute, and has continued to be a tremendously good advisor to her, I won’t stop her unless she asks. Dr. Li would never turn her back on the Institute, yet another reason why I believe her learning what happened with Dr. Virgil would upset her. His betrayal is…significant, and I can only imagine how it would torment her.”

“Absolutely,” Nate agreed. “I quite admire Dr. Li. She’s been through so much, yet she has persisted and done amazingly well despite being faced with setback after setback over the years, before she found the Institute. In some ways…she reminds me of your mother.”

University Point
April the 5th, 2288
15:51

A sudden spike in their energy readings had, they thought, been proof of the potential for Institute technology – synth or not – to be nearby.

When they walked through the gates of a town with its name messily spray painted on a large slab of metal, they had expected it to be quite difficult to find any traces of the Institute.

They were wrong.

Knight Rhys, in his full power armour, went silent in shock. Scribe Haylen took a last few notes and then put away all of the equipment they had in their hands. Once her Scribe’s backpack was closed and the equipment secure, she took in a sharp breath upon realising just how close she and Rhys were to not one but at least five Institute synths. They were, clearly, inhuman. Two of them were nothing but metal skeletons with unsettling, permanent facial expressions and, as they well knew, incredibly simplistic interfaces for manufactured intelligence. The few replicated human organs, however, were the most unsettling, a human heart sending out electrical impulses being one of the most visible and disturbing pieces in the otherwise metal construction. The other three were closer to appearing human. Their faces occasionally showed expression, but their manufactured intelligence was barely above the level of the metal skeletons. There was a mixture between metal and skin, the entire skeleton covered to have something of a body, and something about its almost human movements were distinctly disturbing. Rhys and Haylen looked between each other for a moment, caught off guard.

When they saw a few of the synths approach some of the town’s people, they drew their weapons.

“Step back, we’ll take care of this,” Rhys said, authority rising in his voice. “Take cover, civilians. As members of the Brotherhood Of Steel, we will take care of this for you.”

“Please, don’t worry,” Haylen added. “Everything will be alright.”

Not taking a minute more to hesitate, the Scribe and the Knight split off in separate directions; her to the left, him to the right. The synths began to say things in their awful, grating voices. By order of the Institute, you must be eliminated. My sensors detect unauthorised intrusion and weapons activity. One of the three metal and skin synths ran towards Haylen, who swiftly snatched it by the arm, swung it around, and then fired off several shots to its head. Once it stopped moving, she switched targets to the two skeletal synths while Rhys handled the other two metal and skin synths. It was all over in no more than ten minutes. When he finished off the synths, Rhys stepped out of his power armour to investigate the remains. He frowned when he saw the mix of human, biological material – albeit small – with the metal parts and began to deconstruct them to fit in a second, large Scribe’s backpack. I typically resent having to do the work Scribes do. This, however…I can only imagine how much this will help advance my career. Perhaps Elder Maxson will consider promoting me to Paladin within the next few years. He looked over to Haylen, who was already doing the same, pausing every so often to take notes.

When they finished, they were surprised to see the town’s people coming out now the shooting was done, not looking relieved but horrified.

“I apologise for the disruption,” Haylen zipped up her bag, and then swung it over her shoulders before approaching the crowd. “Have you had problems with these…synths before?”

“Talk to…” A woman shook her head. “Follow me. I’d normally ask you to speak with Mayor Strickland, but this…you need to speak with Mister Spencer.”

Haylen raised an eyebrow, motioning for Rhys to follow after her, which he did after stepping back into his power armour.

“Who’s this Mister Spencer?” Haylen said, taking the second Scribe’s backpack from Rhys. “If he’s not the mayor, that is.”

“Is he an assistant to the mayor?” Rhys asked, taking off his helmet to carry it under his arms, keeping his face visible. “Or is he some other…important figure in your town?”

The woman turned around and shook her head before the three of them began up a tall flight of stairs.

“Mister Spencer is the father of sixteen year old Jacqueline Spencer, who no longer…lives here,” She said, a bit wary. “I am not the one who is at liberty to divulge why to you, hence why I am bringing you to speak to Mister Spencer. And, please, steer clear of Perry Owens and Martha Cole. They’ll be quite obvious, the only ones cheering you two on.”

“That’s insulting,” Rhys bristled. “Do you not understand we just saved your lives?”

The woman sighed, saying nothing more until after they reached the top of the stairs and, then, the end of a long hallway. She knocked on the door, and it was quickly opened by a man no older than forty five who looked terribly anxious.

“I’ll leave the three of you to have a discussion,” The woman said. “Good luck, Gerald.”

Haylen and Rhys startled, taking a small step back once the door was slammed shut behind them the moment they were inside the man’s apartment. He began to pace, tugging at his hair. The Scribe and the Knight nervously glanced between each other before, irritated, Rhys spoke.

“I understand being terrified by the Institute being in your town,” He said irritably. “But we’ve taken care of the threat. Why are you –”

“Do the two of you know a goddamn thing about the Institute?” Gerald Spencer exclaimed, shaking when he turned to them. “You may very well have just turned our town into a target! I was lucky my daughter wasn’t lynched by this f*cking town after she discovered some pre-War science sh*t a few years ago, but I don't think luck is going to hold out in this godforsaken town now you’ve gone and done this!”

Haylen eyed him strangely. “I’m so sorry you’ve been through that, but what does any of that have to do with the Institute?”

Gerald took in a deep breath, and a moment passed before he calmed himself down.

“Three years ago, this August,” Gerald finally began. “My daughter, Jacqueline, had already accomplished more in her first fourteen years of life than many thrice her age do. She reactivated the town’s mail relay, and restored access to what people before the War called ‘the Internet,’ essentially, a database for just about everything known to man. The…biggest thing she did, however, was decrypt information on a piece of pre-War technology. If I remember correctly, it was on nuclear reactor efficiency. She wanted to sell the information, but unknowingly tipped off the Institute.”

Rhys, for as much as he tried, couldn’t hide the horror and fury that crossed his countenance.

“The Institute murdered a teenage girl? Over information?”

“No,” Gerald sat down, probing his forehead. “I thought they would, at first. I thought they would kill all of us. But she…this man the Institute sent…he was a monster. And she looked him in the eye and told him she wouldn’t do anything without meeting an Institute scientist first. It caught him off guard. So much so the Institute granted her request. A few weeks later, two women, one of whom never took off a…quite advanced hazard suit arrived in our town with a few synths, the synths who look like us.”

Haylen frowned. “I don’t understand. What happened?”

Gerald sighed. “I stayed in the room while she talked to these women. I didn’t want them to take her away, but…after they talked about God knows what – truthfully, I don’t understand much of anything when it comes to science – Jacqueline agreed to go with them, to the Institute. She’s been there ever since.”

“They kidnapped her?” Rhys said, his voice darkening. “And she’s been gone for nearly three years?”

“I…I certainly felt it was kidnapping for a good long while. Part of me still feels that way,” Gerald said, his voice unsteady. “But I see her at least every three months, often more. Only one of the women accompanies her, now, but lets me talk to her alone. I didn’t think she would be happy there…but she is. I can’t give up everything I’ve ever known, so, I remain here as a liaison, of sorts, for the Institute. I like to think I’m growing into the role.”

Haylen and Rhys turned to each other, still horrified.

“Do you…” Haylen began, considering her words carefully. “Do you know who this woman is?”

Gerald nodded. “Her name is Dr. Madison Li. But, enough of this,” He stood up and pointed towards the door. “Tell whomever it was who sent you not to come back. We don’t need anymore of your ‘help.’ We just want to be left alone.”

Chapter 14: Something Smoking

Chapter Text

The Institute
April the 6th, 2288
5:30

If there were anything about the Institute which made life easier for everyone, it was the amount of time they were given to take care of themselves. Quiet hours alone felt as though they breathed new life into almost everyone.

For that routine to be broken for the whole of the Directorate, it was more than apparent things were very wrong.

Unusually frassled but as aggravated as usual, Dr. Justin Ayo walked into the Directorate’s meeting room with an even colder frown than his typical, perpetual one. Dr. Clayton Holdren seemed barely awake, and kept nervously rubbing at his eyes, almost as if he thought something bad would happen the moment he stepped into the room. Dr. Alan Binet walked into the room looking particularly exhausted and, despite his usually content and relaxed demeanour, caught between irritation and concern. Long since having given up on pretending to be impossible to faze, Dr. Madison Li did not bother to hide the annoyance she felt at her routine being interrupted. Similarly, though much more tired, Dr. Allison Filmore stepped in shortly after her, raising an eyebrow when she noticed the clear tension held by Nate on one end of the table and the deeply concerned yet annoyed look on his face which Father was hard pressed to hide on the other end of the table. A heavy silence befell the Directorate once they were all seated and, at least somewhat, prepared for the meeting to begin. For how rare sudden and emergency meetings were, however, the sense of dread hanging over the room was one which could not be set aside.

“I apologise for such an early and…unexpected meeting, but this is a critical situation,” Shaun said, just barely masking his anger while he spoke. “As you are all well aware, the presence of the Brotherhood Of Steel has been increasing throughout the Commonwealth for quite some time now. Though we had hoped there would be more of a delay, yesterday afternoon, two members of the organisation attacked our major outpost at University Point.”

“The Brotherhood uncovered our presence at University Point?” Madison frowned. “How was that even allowed to happen?”

“That matter is to be investigated,” Shaun said. “However, I, firstly, would like to commend the SRB and Robotics Divisions for the strides made in Courser development in the past two years alone. I am pleased to report, despite the situation, a Courser responded to the scene once a sudden and unusual cease in synth activity at University Point was detected. Within no more than three hours and verifying the activity detected was correct, the Courser responded to the scene and spoke to the town’s people.”

“Good,” Justin said, sending a brief, wary look at Madison, whose eyes narrowed ever so slightly. “I will debrief the Courser myself after this meeting,” He went on. “Which unit was it?”

“The Courser unit who responded to the scene was X6-88,” Nate informed him, taking a look over the Courser’s initial report. “X6-88 has, in just the two years since it was activated and designated a Courser, been quite good at its job, this case being no exception.”

“Well, I’m certainly pleased the adjustments we’ve made to how we modify synths chosen to be Coursers have been helpful,” Alan said, pausing, for a time, in thought. “Did we lose any major units in this attack? Or was it only the standard first and second generation synths we most often post at University Point?”

“We lost only five units in the attack, however, we have not been able to recover the remains,” Shaun said, disgust for the Brotherhood seeping into his voice. “The two members of the Brotherhood Of Steel – identified and reported to our Courser as going by the names of ‘Scribe Haylen’ and ‘Knight Rhys’ – stole the remains of the five synths. It goes without saying the Brotherhood will attempt to use these remains in an attempt to determine a more effective way to orchestrate a full assault against the Institute.”

“Well, then, we should consider ourselves lucky they did not get their hands on any of our third generation synths,” Allie said, annoyed at the notion. “The Brotherhood are some of the very last people who should get their hands on some of our most important developments over the last few decades and, just as importantly, the last five years.”

“The slim chance of the Brotherhood being capable of and managing to decode our biological mechanisms in our third generation synths could be disastrous,” Clayton agreed. “Dr. Filmore is correct. The last people we would want to have even one of our most advanced machines are the Brotherhood Of Steel.”

“Certainly,” Justin said coldly. “We can’t allow sophisticated Institute technology to fall into the wrong hands, though I am disinclined to believe the Brotherhood would be able to reverse engineer any of our synths, let alone the third generation models.”

“Do not underestimate them,” Madison sharply warned him. “The Brotherhood does not approach any matter without the knowledge – however biased or, in actuality, unrealistic it may be – they can be successful. They do not view failure as an option. Assuming otherwise simply because of their clear, grandiose delusions would be a fatal mistake. They can and do justify anything if they believe it will further their own objectives, and they do so with no consideration for anyone but themselves. Had the town’s people intervened and attempted to stop their attack, I have no doubt in my mind they would have been slaughtered.”

“Unfortunate as it would be, it is quite likely the Brotherhood would have done precisely that,” Allie shook her head. “If we are not careful or do not respond to this, they will only be emboldened to attempt more damage.”

“It is because of that threat I am ordering X6-88 to be permanently stationed at University Point for the time being,” Shaun said, waiting, a moment, to see if anyone would protest. When no one did, he continued. "We will also need to continue to crack down on the matter of the escaping of our third generation synths. As we work on that, we will put as few second and third generation synths out into the field for surveillance and scavenging as possible, redesignating that task to the basic, nearly obsolete first generations.”

Justin nodded. “Of course,” He turned to Alan. “Dr. Binet, when are the Courser upgrades occurring?”

“We will have to put them off until next month due to developmental delays,” Alan said. “I’ve already informed my Division of the need to work through this quickly so we do not have to reschedule again.”

“Is that so?” Justin spoke icily. “It seems you are dragging your feet just to make a point. Or, perhaps, is it more personal? Are you doing this just to enrage me, Alan? Or is this another consequence of your absurd belief about how synths are people and your disturbing arrangement wherein you live with one?”

Allie frowned. “Let’s not be dramatic, Justin. This is a serious situation, and, frankly –”

“Why don’t you stick to your job and let the real scientists do their work?” Justin venomously replied. “I suggest you refocus on whatever it is you do as the Institute’s ‘chief engineer,’ as I’ve heard your husband refer to you as in quite a few conversations over these last ten years since you rose to the position at merely twenty nine. Don't forget the fact the rest of us do real science.”

Allie bristled, about to say something though Madison was faster.

“I think I speak for everyone else in this room when I say we are growing tired of your constant accusations, Dr. Ayo,” Madison said, her gaze narrowing when Justin turned to her. “Doing your job and doing it well does not require invading everyone else’s privacy or attempting to delegitimise the work done by the other Divisions, nor does it grant you unilateral impunity to make vast, baseless accusations against the rest of us. If this is how you think best to manage the concerns of the SRB, I, for one, find that to be concerning.”

“Things topside are concerning enough,” Allie sharply added. “Being contrary out of spite will only weaken us.”

“Dr. Filmore and Dr. Li are correct,” Shaun raised an eyebrow when Justin nearly began to protest. “This is the greatest external threat the Institute have ever faced, and it is the responsibility of all of us to eliminate it.”

Diamond City
April the 9th, 2288
17:44

To describe going nearly another month with nary an answer or a strong lead as to where one Conrad Kellogg went as frustrating would be a rather massive understatement.

Rather, it was painfully aggravating and more than enough to make even the normally pragmatic and level headed Nick Valentine annoyed.

A mess of unhelpful old files with no useful information nor clues about his employer on them and a confusing number of strange items left behind, Kellogg’s former home still yielded no substantial clues to his movements after vanishing from the city. After having gone through all of the files over and over, desperate for them to provide some sort of answer as the seemingly only lead with potential promise, with no luck, the search was slowly beginning to feel hopeless. Though she did not want to admit it to herself, Nora knew it was possible another dead end was close on the horizon. Still, there was something about the way Cait kept pushing, kept a fury for answers despite what Nick felt and what Nora was beginning to feel, keeping her hopeful. What the hell is happening to me? Why does Cait make me feel so sure things can and will work out? Everything else…it should make me feel the opposite, shouldn’t it? Reaching into one of the back pockets of her jeans, Nora pulled out a folded up piece of paper, a photograph, one Codsworth had managed to save before the bombs dropped. Before the fallout. Before the world fell into the state it stood in now. No longer able to cry when she unfolded and looked at it, the feeling of numbness she was growing to know all too well crashing over her in waves again, Nora found she could only stare, memories running wild.

“Congratulations on your healthy baby boy,” A nurse had said, handing Shaun to his mother after she and his father had given him his first bath while she rested. “He’s quite the sweet baby. You and your husband couldn’t be more lucky.”

Nora had gently brushed her fingers over her son’s cheek, letting his tiny hands wrap around her nearest fingers. Sitting down beside them, Nate had leaned over to kiss her cheek, beaming.

“You did incredible, Nor,” He had said, brushing some of her hair, still damp from sweating and seven hours of labour, out of her eyes. “I know he already loves you just as much as I do.”

“What the hell’s wrong with me?” Nora had broken down, sobbing into herself from where she sat on the floor, her back against the lowest parts of her and Nate’s bedframe. “I didn’t wake up when he started crying, and he just…you had to –”

“Nora, listen to me,” Nate had said, coming over to sit down beside her, wrapping his arms around her while she cried. “You’re exhausted, understandably so. Shaun was okay, I was with him after no more than a minute or two after he started crying. You need rest, too. You’re a good mother, and he knows you love him. It’ll be okay.”

“…And we are…we’ve received confirmation Anchorage, Los Angeles, Seattle, Portland, Tucson, Houston, Chicago, Atlanta, DC, and New York have been hit by Chinese and Russian nuclear attacks. We’ve lost –”

The sound of the sirens had pierced through the air so loudly they ran through the bodies of everyone in the town. They had run. She had panicked, briefly losing sight of her husband and baby just before they had reached the platform, the platform into the Vault. Light. A sudden gush of wind. Noise louder and more painful than even the sirens. The platform was lowering again, the last time it would go to the surface. Her throat had hurt. She had no idea if she had screamed or not.

“Now, just step right over here. We need to ensure you are free of radiation and depressurised before we head deeper into the Vault.”

“Shhhhh…” Nora had murmured, leaning over to press one last kiss to her baby boy’s forehead. “It’ll just be for a few minutes. Be good for your daddy, alright?”

Shaun had calmed, reaching over and wrapping his hands as best he could around his mother’s fingers.

“I’ll hold onto him, he’ll be okay,” Nate had reassured her. “I’ll see you soon, Nor.”

“I know you will,” She had whispered. “I love you both.”

Nate had smiled, giving her one last warm embrace.

“And we love you just as much.”

A sudden shout from Cait drew her away from her thoughts, and, hands unsteady, Nora quickly folded up the last family photograph they had taken and slipped it back into her pocket. She flinched when she saw Cait rubbing at her head, having tripped over the precariously low balcony separating the loft from the rest of the house. When she regained herself, Cait dusted herself off, made a few choice comments about the mess Kellogg had left his home in, and then, seeing the slightly pained look on Nora’s face, came over to and tightly embraced her, patting her back reassuringly once the woman loosely embraced her too. After a minute, Cait let go of her, and turned to Nick, who was still going through the files Kellogg had left behind for a fifth time, his face looking more and more grim with every page he turned. With a frustrated sigh and more than a few swears, Cait knelt down to the floor and began to inspect it again while Nora went upstairs, hoping to find something – anything – among the pile of things Kellogg had left piled up on the bed. Her mind began to wander again, and she felt her heart racing faster and faster with every fear that made its presence known. One after another. Rinse, repeat. Fear of everything amounting to nothing but another dead end tried to –

“Bloody hell, why is there a damn button under this desk?”

Nora had looked up suddenly before quickly making her way back down the stairs, meeting Cait where she was sat underneath Kellogg’s desk at almost the same time as Nick. When they took a look for themselves, they saw her fingers were just barely touching a tiny, barely visible red button.

“Odd,” Nick mused. “Why would –”

He jumped when, with not a second to consider what she was doing, Cait all but punched the button. Trying to stand up, she hit her head on the desk when the sound of metal scraping against metal and a bit of shaking took over the house. Nora took a few steps away, her eyes widening in disbelief when one of the walls pushed back and then up. His balance lost, Nick stumbled into the stairs mere seconds after Nora had all but jumped backwards and away from them. When the building stopped shaking and the awful noises stopped too, the three of them took a moment to steady themselves. Then, they found themselves, briefly, only able to stare at the place where the wall had once stood in disbelief. Not only was the space it revealed shockingly roomy, it was also just as full, just as messy as the rest of the man’s home. Cait blinked, rubbing at her eyes for a few seconds while she stood up and regained her bearings. Nora frowned, an eyebrow raised in disbelief, crossing her arms. Nick brushed himself off, straightened himself out, and then took a few, wary steps towards the room, expecting a trap to be in place. When one did not reveal itself, he let out a low, mirthless chuckle.

“That’s one heck of a shock,” He said, then shaking his head and adjusting his hat. “Got something to hide, Kellogg?”

“Sure as hell seems like it,” Cait said dryly, sharing a confused look with Nora before sashaying into the room and all but falling backwards into the large, leather chair towards the back of the room. “Man’s definitely got expensive taste,” She reached over to the small end table beside it and poked at a few cigars still left in the ashtray. “More of the damned San Fransisco Sunlight cigars. Guess he’s a creature of habit.”

“And left a surprising amount of arms behind,” Nick noted, turning to make sure Nora was alright while she hesitantly stepped into the room. “He probably left in a hurry. Why though…”

“It doesn’t make sense,” Nora hesitated, glancing to the cigars left in the ashtray. “Cait, do you think he actually smoked those before he left?”

She nodded. “I’d bet serious money on it. There’s burn marks right under ‘em in the tray. Probably didn’t extinguish the sh*t properly.”

Nora took in a sharp breath. “This place has been, clearly, well insulated,” She did not startle when she felt the tone she once used in the courtroom slip into her voice again. “There’s a chance at least some of his genetic material is still on those cigars. Including his scent.”

Cait eyed her strangely. “You mean the scent of cigar smoke?”

“No, she’s right,” Nick said, snapping his fingers in surprise. “You’re a damn good mind. Do you, by chance, remember what type of dog the one you and the Minutemen found is?”

“I’m not completely sure, but he probably has a good nose,” Nora said, pushing the feeling of hope in her chest as far down as she could. Not again. Don’t get your hopes up again. After the Vault, you can’t trust any feeling close to – “Codsworth said he saw the dog chase after me once I headed towards Concord, hoping to find anyone who could…well,” She sighed, one hand on her hip and the other running through her hair. “He said the dog followed me from the Vault to Concord, before I’d even known he was there. It’s…possible, if there’s enough of Kellogg’s scent still on the cigars, he might be able to get a little bit of a lead.”

“Well, if we’re going to start tracking the son of a bitch down, I’m travelling with you,” Cait said, standing up and briefly patting Nora’s shoulders. “It’s been too long since I’ve had the chance to hand someone who really deserves it their ass.”

Nick glanced to her, confused.

“Didn’t you clear out the damn Combat Zone with some help from one of the Minutemen a few weeks ago? You really should rest, Cait. Stringing yourself out –”

“If I were strung out, I’d make it damn clear,” Cait said, stretching out her arms. “This Kellogg son of a bitch has done something even some raiders would have a problem with, I mean, what kind of sh*te is he to kidnap a baby? No, he needs to get the living daylights beat out of him. And I’m going to help.”

Nick worriedly stared at her. “Cait,” He said slowly. “Are you sure or are you high?”

“And…” Nora began, her fingers tingling a little. “Please don’t feel as though you need to come. You’ve helped me a lot as it is…and the last thing I want is to burden you."

“You’re not a burden at all. I don’t know why, but me instincts keep saying I should stay by your side, support you,” Cait fell silent, doing her best to hide her upset at the memories. “And, after having spent most of me life around sad*stic people like Kellogg, I want to make at least one of them pay for what they do, and harshly for what they do. What people like him did to me.”

Nick sighed. “You ain’t entirely wrong. Honestly?” He said grimly. “Kellogg is dangerous because he thrives off death, destruction, suffering, violence, and pain, and he shouldn’t be able to continue to terrorise people just for his own, sick pleasure.”

Cambridge Police Station
April the 14th, 2288
9:25

“Even though several of our Brothers and Sisters have died fighting the horrors rampant in the Commonwealth, we’ve stayed strong, and we won’t back down. Now, with both of you back and stationed at the station again, please give me your report.”

A routine growing all the more inescapable with each week they stayed in the Commonwealth, the Paladin, the Knight, and the Scribe all sat down around a table in the pre-War Cambridge Police Station. With much of the past few days having been dedicated to maintaining the security of the station with their remaining Brothers and Sisters, practising, analysing what the Scribe and the Knight brought back from University Point, and organising and filing the synth parts they recovered to be examined later, time had felt to be in short supply. For Knight Rhys, after the far from grateful reception to the Brotherhood’s aiding of the town, returning to more regular work and combat was a relief. Similarly, Scribe Haylen was relieved to be removed from the situation at University Point, now, due to both sheer exhaustion and what she and Rhys had been able to recover and analyse. What piqued her curiosity the most, however, was why the town acted the way they did when it came to the Institute, the father of the girl who had been taken in particular. As for Paladin Danse, though he was not keen on admitting it, having Haylen and Rhys permanently back at the station was something he found reassuring.

“Firstly, we unfortunately have not been able to find any traces of Paladin Brandis’ reconnaissance operation that did not lead to a dead end,” Rhys said his voice steady and unwavering despite the concern he held regarding the missing team. “That said, we now have indisputable proof of not only the Institute’s major, technological prowess and influence over the Commonwealth, but in our possession physical evidence of the programme developing the abominations referred to as ‘synths,’ though we did not cross paths with one of their ‘human’ synths.”

“From what we were given to understand after speaking to one of the town’s residents, the synths we encountered were earlier models without the capacity to develop a replication of true human emotion and consciousness,” Haylen added. “As well, we learnt from this same man, the Institute kidnapped his daughter at only fourteen because she had found pre-War research they wanted for themselves. It appears they now control her, forcing her to be a part of their schemes.”

“It was a disgusting thing to learn,” Rhys said, his voice hardening. “But the town’s remarkable passivity and even, for some of them, acceptance if not support of the Institute is a concerning and disgraceful activity. If I may be so bold, I recommend we maintain a close watch on the settlement, particularly after the time comes for the Prydwen to arrive in the Commonwealth. I’m quite sure Elder Maxson will know exactly how to handle this delicate, precarious situation.”

“He will,” Danse agreed. “At this time, while we await the arrival of the Prydwen, it is crucial we maintain our outpost here and defend it against the scum of the Commonwealth at any and all costs.”

“Understood,” Haylen said with a short, respectful nod. “We’re more than eager to return to those duties. After all, maintaining the Brotherhood’s presence and activity in the Commonwealth is necessary for saving the lives of the people who live here.”

“Precisely. Well said, Scribe Haylen,” Danse said with a faint, almost invisible smile. “I am also,” He turned to look evenly at both her and the Knight. “Pleased to know you have been incredibly successful thus far in our mission here. Recovering those pieces of the ‘synths’ tormenting the civilians at University Point is quite the feat, and I have no doubt your work to do so will impress Elder Maxson, Lancer Captain Kells, Knight Captain Cade, and the Proctors. They are not easily impressed, though I have no doubt in my mind the work you have done here in the Commonwealth thus far will impress them not only for your bravery but for your willingness to step up without question to our values as Brothers and Sisters of the Brotherhood Of Steel.”

“Thank you, Paladin,” Haylen said with a cordial note to her voice. “We are pleased to be able to report such major successes in combat, strategy, and planning in our work in the Commonwealth. This place certainly needs as much help as it can get.”

“Quite right,” Rhy said mildly. “Considering the Institute is quite literally playing God, it couldn’t be more pivotal for our operations here to centre around putting an end to their reckless, unnecessary, and dangerous ‘experiments.’ It is vital to our work.”

“The state the Commonwealth is in seems to become all the more disturbing with every new discovery we encounter,” Danse said, shaking his head. “The people of the Commonwealth have no idea how their inaction and even acceptance of the Institute’s existence and meddling with them only emboldens the already awful situation.”

“Indeed,” Rhy said, not bothering to hide the irritation in his voice which always accompanied his thoughts around the Institute and the nature of its activities. “We will prove, in time, to the people of University Point they have mistaken the identity of the enemy. Once we have accomplished that, we will be able to better warn the Commonwealth of the danger they’re in and why they need us, the Brotherhood Of Steel, if they want to stand a chance in this world.”

“Yes, the way some of the Commonwealth’s civilians have reacted to our presence is deeply concerning,” Danse said with a slight frown. “Of course, we need to ensure the Commonwealth is aware of and actively supporting our work to protect them but, even more so, we need to find our wayward Brothers and Sisters to strengthen our position as we prepare to launch a full assault against the Institute once the Prydwen and Elder Maxson arrive in the Commonwealth.”

“Absolutely,” Haylen said with a short nod. “It will also do us good to have people who can more fully analyse the findings and pieces we have recovered from Institute ‘synths,’ and, I imagine, other forms of Institute technology we have yet to encounter.”

“Hence why I have tasked you and Knight Rhys with attempting to locate Dr. Madison Li,” Danse said. “I am hoping the both of you will be able to find and bring her back into the Brotherhood so we can best prepare ourselves to go to war with the Institute.”

“And others like her,” Rhys noted. “People like her should never have been permitted to leave the Brotherhood. It's deeply unfortunate Elder Lyons, may he rest in peace, was so merciful towards them. As I’ve made quite clear, the Brotherhood’s interests take priority above all else because of all we do to ensure the safety and security of civilians. The Capital Wasteland, particularly during the war with the Enclave, is indisputable evidence of such.”

“Correct, Knight,” Danse said shortly. “Elder Maxson’s leadership has brought the Brotherhood back from the brink of disarray here on the East Coast, and he is a powerful inspiration all of us should be proud to call our leader.”

“Which is why we are so dedicated to the work we are tasked with here,” Haylen said with a hint of excitement to her voice. “As soon as the Prydwen arrives, we will be in the strongest, clearest, and most dedicated position we have been in nearly a decade. I, for one, cannot wait for us to be able to begin that work, because the people of the Commonwealth deserve the security and safety we provide the Capital Wasteland with.”

“They also need to learn to accept it,” Rhys gruffly remarked. “The way we were treated after saving all of those people at University Point has left more than just a faint, sour taste in my mouth. Their arrogance and assumption the Institute will not seek to destroy them now despite the fact the Institute has been given two years to indoctrinate and torture an innocent teenage girl is ludicrous.”

“The Institute’s selfishness is infuriating,” Danse said, a light sigh of exhaustion leaving his lips. “They have the ability to aid the people of the Commonwealth but do not. For that alone, they deserve to be acknowledged as awful. Adding their ‘synth’ creations and kidnapping to the list has only made it clear they are much, much worse than we had already expected.”

“They must be stopped, and they will be,” Haylen said. “I have faith in not only ourselves and the rest of our Brothers and Sisters but our leaders, Elder Maxson in particular.”

“We need to fix the Commonwealth,” Rhys said with silent yet underlying fury in his voice. “And they need to learn to stop playing with matches, gasoline, and fire.”

Diamond City
April the 20th, 2288
13:22

“What do you mean you don’t have any parts? I need oil, I need screws, I need gears, and a few tools to fix my damn motor!”

Piper let out an irritated sigh when Myrna rolled her eyes at her. Nat set her hands to her hips in an attempt to look intimidating, though neither Myrna or any of the people wandering, doing business, and socialising seemed to think much of it. Waving the Wright sisters out of the way to talk with customers, Myrna suspiciously watched the two of them walk away and towards the noodles stand. Piper and Nat are the most annoyingly persistent people in this city. Among over six thousand people living here, the two of them make more trouble than any of us need. Only thing they’ve got right is that the mayor’s a synth. Why the hell they still hang around that synth detective, though, is – With a nervous smile, Myrna began chatting away with customers, careful not to let on she had the parts for Piper’s repairs while she and her sister were within her line of sight, even in the periphery. For as annoyed Myrna was with them, however, Piper and, in particular, Nat were just as if not more annoyed with her. Sitting down at Power Noodles, the two sisters handed caps to Takahashi, and waited for their noodles. When they got their food and began to eat, they muttered to each other every so often, mostly about needing to find some other way to get the parts to repair the printing press’ motor. Still, Nat perked up a little and began tugging at her older sister’s sleeve when she saw Cait walking into the city. As soon as they finished their lunch, they walked over to where Cait had sat down on the front steps into the Publick Occurrences office. Cait winked at them when they approached, jokingly elbowing Nat when the teenager sat down beside her on the steps.

“Got some damn good news about that Kellogg son of bitch’s house,” Cait said with a slightly sinister smile. “Not only did I get us inside by picking the lock, but I found some damn good evidence we may be able to use as a lead to find him.”

Nat stared at her, eyes wide. “How’d you pick the lock? I thought even Nick had trouble making any progress getting it to move at all!”

“Let’s just say I have a talent,” Cait said happily. “Getting into places I’m not wanted has quickly become one of my greatest skills built up over the years.”

“I’ll let you know if I ever need help getting into something, then,” Piper laughed. “I’m curious – what’s the craziest thing you’ve had to do in order to get into somewhere?”

“Pretended to be a synth,” Cait said, a hint of disgust to her voice. “Some raider assholes stole my clothes while I was showering a few years ago when I first started in the Combat Zone, probably because they wanted to ogle me. Lucky for me, one of those creepy old synths with the weird armour was doing whatever the hell it is they do for the Institute in an alleyway behind the Combat Zone. So, I decapitated it, stole the armour and it’s weird looking weapon, and went to where the raiders who stole me clothes were living.”

Nat’s eyes went wide when she looked at Cait. “Really?”

“Really,” Cait said, ruffling the teenager’s hair. “Scared ‘em absolutely sh*tless into letting me in by threating to return to the Institute and have them replaced, and stole my clothes back before they caught onto the bluff. Also poisoned their gang leader’s drink. That group of raiders never came by the Combat Zone again.”

“Got to say, I’m impressed,” Piper said, waving at Vadim when she saw him talking with Solomon. “Hey, Bobrov! What’d you pick up today?”

“In a moment, I’ll show!” He called back, handing a few things and a bag of caps to Solomon before taking a rather large box from him. “This is a fun one!”

“Like the spirit,” Cait said, standing up and nudging Piper. “Of all the spontaneous things I do in me life, experimenting with chems is one I’m quite well known for.”

“Because those experiments have never f*cked you up at all,” Piper said dryly. “I think I speak for everyone when I say we love you, but really don’t understand some of the things you do.”

Cait shrugged. “I celebrated a bit too much after coming back from Goodneighbour, and, in my defence, it was because I got to let loose on the motherf*ckers in the Combat Zone. Cleared the whole place out with help from one of Nora’s friends. He’s a good person…but also not much of a risk taker.”

“What was it you did?” Nat asked, a bit too excited. “You’ve done a lot of weird things before.”

“I’m at a point in my life where I’ll try everything twice,” Cait said. “And, now, I know I’ll never take mentats and daytripper at the same time again.”

Piper raised an eyebrow. “I still don’t know what compelled you to try that. You ended up trying to teach people how to dance in the Colonial Taphouse before you got kicked out for being ‘a public nuisance.’”

“The Taphouse is no fun,” Vadim said, tucking his box of chems under his arm as he approached the group. “I ask Cooke if he’ll sell my moonshine – well, it’s Yefim’s too, but I hold the record for number of shots done with it – and he says it ‘has no appeal’ to his ‘elite clientele.’ I say he’s missing out on a great opportunity to sell the nectar of the gods.”

“Someone gets it!” Cait said, dramatically waving at Vadim. “I was trying to emulate what pre-War people called ‘hippies!’ You know, carefree, open to anything –”

“Typically opposed to war and violence,” Nat told her, confused. “At least, that’s what I’ve read.”

“And you’re just about right,” Piper said, sending Cait a pointed look. “Didn’t you get in a fight with Darcy Pembroke?”

Cait smirked. “I didn’t get in a fight. I won a fight.”

“Wish it had happened in my bar,” Vadim said, turning to Piper. “I would have stopped the fight, and you could publish the first of my tales of heroism! Speaking of which…when are you going to publish a story about the nice bar?”

“Vadim, listen,” Piper said, trying not to laugh. “So much as I’d like to talk about you in the Publick, I don’t even know what I’d say about it. You and I both know no story about your bar is going to end happily. How many fights have happened there in just the last week?”

“Well, depends,” Vadim said with an awkward chuckle. “What would you consider a fight?”

“Wiping the floor with a son of a bitch,” Cait said with not a moment of hesitation. “It’s always fun to make someone pay for being a piece of sh*te.”

Nat excitedly nodded. “Getting right up in the face of someone who tries to pull the wool over everyone else’s eyes!”

“That’s the spirit, Nat,” Piper said, affectionately elbowing her little sister. “But, Vadim,” She shook her head. “We all know there’s at least one fight in your bar every damn day.”

“Part of the charm,” Vadim replied, winking at Cait. “And you drink free. You win all fights.”

“Oh, and, believe me,” She said, startled by a sudden wave of anger. “I will continue that streak.”

Goodneighbour
April the 24th, 2288
19:11

“Duncan? How are you feeling, buddy?”

Very little in the world brought Robert Joseph MacCready more relief than his son smiling at him when he stepped into his room in their apartment. Though it was often difficult to face him, a lingering, terrifying feeling in his mind whispering and reminding him how he could lose him at any time, seeing his son’s smile never failed to make him feel a little better. No more than a few steps behind him, Dr. Annette Davis lingered in the doorway to the little boy’s room, unsure if she should follow. Always happy to see his dad, Duncan excitedly waved at him and tried to stand up to run over to him but struggled to keep standing, getting dizzy. Anxiety seizing him, MacCready quickly picked up his son, holding the frail four year old steady. Slowly, he began to calm down when, like he usually did, Duncan began babbling about playing with Daisy, and how excited he was for the next shipment of scavenged comics to come in. After a few minutes, though, he noticed his dad was shaking a little as he held onto him. A bit confused by his dad’s worry, the four year old reached up and eventually managed to tug his dad’s hat off, giggling when it hit the floor, landing near Annette’s feet. The little boy stared at it for a minute before looking up and staring at her, curious.

“Who’s she?” He looked between his father and Annette. “Is she your friend? Like Daisy?”

“She’s…” MacCready fell silent. Lucy, please, don’t…I hope you don’t think I’m betraying – He startled when Duncan began tugging at his sleeves. “This is Annette. She’s a…special friend,” He said after a brief pause. “One I…I spend a lot of time alone with.”

The four year old nodded. “She’s pretty.”

Annette laughed a little. “You’re very sweet,” She said, hesitating a moment before stepping towards the two of them when MacCready helped his shivering son get under his blankets. “How are you feeling?”

“She’s a doctor,” MacCready explained when his son stared at the two of them in confusion. “She wants to try and help you feel better.”

“Oh…” Duncan glanced between his father and Annette. “Well,” He mumbled. “Everything still feels icky. And I get dizzy. The spots hurt my arms.”

“Hey,” Annette pulled over a chair and sat down next to the little boy, reassuringly patting his hands. “I know it doesn’t feel good. If you and your dad are okay with it, I want him to start using an anti-inflammatory gel on the spots.”

Duncan gave her a funny look. “Why?”

“It should help reduce some of the swelling and pain,” She said, reaching into her bag. “See, this?” She pulled out a bottle and popped the cap up to squeeze a tiny bit of the gel out. “You can feel it first. It may be cold and smell strange, but it should help.”

“You want to try it, buddy?” MacCready let out a sigh of relief when Duncan lightly nodded after poking at the bit of gel Annette had on her finger. “Okay,” He nervously took the bottle from Annette. “You ready?”

“Yeah,” Duncan flinched when his dad slowly tugged up one of the long sleeves of his shirt. “Daddy?” He whispered. “Is everything going to be okay?”

“It…” MacCready briefly set down the bottle, hands shaking. “It’ll be okay,” He eventually said. “You know you’re a strong kid, right?”

Duncan hesitantly nodded. “It’s not going to hurt?”

“Of course not,” Annette assured him, managing a small smile when the four year old smiled at her. “I know it’s scary because it’s new, but you can do it.”

“I can do it,” Duncan flinched again when his dad, after trying to calm his nerves, picked up the bottle again and started with a little bit of ointment on one of the worst boils near his elbow. “I can do it.”

“You’re being very brave,” Annette said gently, though she took in a sharp breath when it occurred to her just how much more fragile and bony the four year old looked with a sleeve rolled up. “How are you feeling so far?”

“It’s kinda tingly,” Duncan said, staring at the spots his dad was applying the gel to. “And cold. Not bad. Just weird.”

“It’ll take a few days of regular application before you’ll be able to see any difference,” Annette reached over to gently rest a hand on MacCready’s shoulder. “If it’s not working, let me know. I have a few others that could work. The other thing I want you to try are medications to treat allergies. It’s possible what he’s suffering with is related to an allergy or is being exacerbated by one.”

“Alright,” MacCready said, delicately rolling down the first sleeve and turning to his son’s other arm. “You still doing okay, buddy?” He pressed, carefully rolling up the other sleeve. “It doesn’t hurt, does it? We can take a break if you need to.”

Duncan shook his head. “It’s doesn’t hurt. Just a little cold.”

“You’ll get used to it,” Annette encouragingly said, setting down the medications she had brought for him on the small table by his bed. “And I know your dad will take good care of you.”

“Daisy will too, don’t worry,” MacCready managed a small smile when his son perked up. “She gave us a place to stay when we came here, and she looks after you when I have to work, after all.”

“Daisy’s funny,” Duncan said, giggling. “She reads me comic books and does voices for the characters. Her Grognak is silly, good silly!”

“And she’s a much better influence than Hanco*ck,” MacCready whispered to Annette, who raised an eyebrow. “He was the one who talked Daisy into letting us live in the apartment next to hers no one’s lived in for years because of it being smaller than most of the others in town and technically being owned by her. I’ll admit…I was hesitant about it at first, but she’s actually really nice. And, you know, she doesn’t leave hard drugs laying around.”

Annette tried not to laugh. “Hanco*ck’s a strange person, isn’t he?”

“Hanco*ck is…” MacCready paused, taking a close look at his son’s arm. This side isn’t as bad as it usually is. Hopefully that’s a good sign. “Well, strange may be putting it lightly,” He said, returning back to gently applying the ointment to the boils. “You still okay, Duncan?”

The four year old nodded. “Why’s Hanco*ck strange?”

“He wears clothes he stole from a historical exhibit, you know, those places where people would stare at old things before the War,” MacCready said, smiling when his son started laughing. “And he wears a flag as a sash.”

“He tried to teach me a song,” Duncan absentmindedly remarked. “But I don’t remember it very well.”

“He probably doesn’t either,” MacCready told him, closing the cap and setting aside the bottle of anti-inflammatory gel. “Hanco*ck can be…scatterbrained.”

“That’s a funny word,” The four year old said, trying not to yawn when his dad began to roll his sleeve back down. “Scatter. Brained. Scatterbrained.”

“Someone feeling sleepy?” MacCready sighed when his son nodded. “Let’s get you to sleep, then,” He turned to Annette. “I’ll meet you in the kitchen in a few,” He briefly took her hand when she stood up. “I have something to ask you about.”

Annette nodded, heading out of the room, only pausing to smile at Duncan when the four year old waved at her. In no more than a few seconds, she was gone down the hall. I hope to God any of this helps…no kid should go through this. He should be able to run around, play with other kids…and here he is, barely able to stand on his own for very long. Leaning back a little on one of the counters once she stepped into the kitchen, barely aware of it, she began to tap her heels lightly against each other on the floor in steady rhythm. The second she noticed it, she forced herself to stop, taken aback by the nervous habit. Nervous. She wasn’t the only one. For as relieved as he was that his son fell peacefully asleep rather quickly, a pang of guilt struck him when he stood up to turn off the lights. No, no I…why do I ever…if I can’t see – His fingers lingered over the switch, and he stepped away from it, his mind spinning. I can’t even do this for him…he likes it to be dark but…after… Closing his eyes for a few seconds, MacCready steadied himself against the doorframe. When he finally opened his eyes again, he realised he still hadn’t picked his hat up from on the floor. After another brief moment of hesitation, not wanting to risk waking his four year old son up, he quickly swept up the hat, set it back on his head, and walked down the hall as quietly as possible, letting out a sigh of relief when he saw Annette was still there, waiting for him.

“Is everything alright?” Annette said softly, noticing the tension in his shoulders when he came over to her. “I hope I…I hope I didn’t overstep. After spending so much of my life working as a doctor, I wanted to…knowing your baby boy is sick, I –”

“You haven’t done anything wrong,” MacCready said, taking her hand and gently squeezing it. “I was just surprised. I didn’t want to pressure you into doing anything.”

“I’m happy to help. He’s lucky to have you as his father,” She paused when she saw anxiety cross his face again. “Is –”

“I don’t really know how to say this,” MacCready said slowly. “But I…I got a job offer out of Diamond City…and I was wondering if you want to go with me.”

Annette hesitated. “Are you sure you want me there?”

“Travelling with someone else would be a lot better than travelling alone,” He paused. “If you don’t want to, it’s alright, but…I wouldn’t mind travelling with you. Honestly…I’d like the company.”

Annette nodded. “In that case…I’d like that too. When do we leave?”

“A few days,” MacCready said, trying not to let on how relieved he was. “And…thanks again. For everything with Duncan. I…I didn’t expect it at all but, really…it means a lot.”

More than she knows.

Chapter 15: Something Pricking

Chapter Text

Diamond City
April the 25th, 2288
1:23

Six months.

It had been about six months since she had been released from cryostasis, since she had left Vault 111.

Things still didn’t feel right.

Sleep had not come easy since the day she left the Vault. Even reuniting with Codsworth, even meeting Preston, even finding purpose as part of the Minutemen had not made it any easier for her to sleep. Even now, knowing who most likely took her husband and son, and having a plan to find him, things did not ease. Some nights, her mind was merciful, and, though she slept lightly, she did not dream. Every so often, at least since being in Diamond City for a few weeks, she wouldn’t be woken up in the middle of the night and would get the closest to the kind of sleep she had before the War. Those nights were few and far between. More often than not, the night was a cycle of a few hours of dreamless sleep and a few hours of dreams, dreams of life before the War or nightmares about the day everything changed. The day they entered the Vault. Losing Shaun and Nate. The worst of them were the nightmares of what could be happening to the two of them, now, with Kellogg’s cruel sneer taunting her just as it had when he took them.

For as much as she tried, there were nights when Nora knew sleep would not help, no matter how much her body screamed at her she needed it. Too scared to fall asleep and into the mercy of what dreams could make themselves shown and too tired to do much else, she went through the pages and pages of documents they had recovered from Kellogg’s home. Each time, she hoped she would find something, a way to understand what happened, why, and who the man was. It seemed impossible. How could he possibly be as old as these documents suggest? The thought was painfully confusing. Flipping through page after page, file after file, Nora tried to keep going but found herself struggling to keep her eyes open. Text, words, numbers began to blur. Frustrated, she shoved the files back into their boxes. After a minute, she all but fell back onto the floor, her head being the first to the floor, on one of the pillows strewn about her room in the Dugout Inn. Staring up at the ceiling, she watched the lights flickering from the ceiling fan, hoping following its steady motion would lull her to sleep.

It didn’t.

Running her hands through her hair, Nora reached up to tug the blanket down from the bed, the room a little bit cold. Cold. The cold had never bothered her, not before the War. Swimming during the early hours of the morning before the pool was heated in her hometown’s aquatic sports centre had always helped her feel better, even when she felt anxiety clawing at her. Anxiety about school. Anxiety about competitions. Anxiety about family. Somehow, diving into the cool water while the sun began to rise was a reminder of why she loved life. And it was how I met Nate. I swam, surfed…no one could keep me out of the water. Him being at the beach on the same day as my competition in 2074 was…I couldn’t have been more lucky to meet him. That was then, the life before. Life after…was disorienting. Some days, despite it being nearly half a year since Vault-Tec’s systems malfunctioned and she found herself alone, it was hard to reconcile the world she knew the first twenty four years of her life with the one she faced now. Of all the things she knew she had developed an aversion to, however, the cold was the worst of them, making itself known when she was alone.

Being scared of the cold, the loneliness, the disorientation…it’s all because of Vault-Tec’s lies and what they did to us. To my family. To almost everyone we knew. What was the point of it all?

Knowing the only people who could provide answers to how Vault-Tec justified their experiments were all dead only made the questions feel worse, taunting. There would be no answers. Her body a bit shaky, Nora pulled the blanket tighter around herself, almost cocooning in it. Her body kept reaching for sleep, but her mind kept wandering. Memories. The worst were from life before the War. It’s not just Shaun and Nate…I’ll be able to find them, I have to. But everyone else… Closing her eyes, she tried to not recall the faces and voices from the first twenty four years of her life. Family. Colleagues. Friends. I’m breathing, even if it hurts, sometimes, after running…hunting…or… She shook a little at the thought. It was too much. Even worse, a few faces and voices had been coming back, the most painful of them being that of her best friend. Dr. Kate Leavitt. We were just two girls from Plainville when we left for college…and I came out a lawyer, and you came out an organic chemist with a doctorate. I wish I had made the drive out before…you never even got to meet Shaun… Rolling over onto her other side, she tried not to let her mind meander too far down that path. It seemed impossible.

Shaun and Nate had been taken.

Their families and friends were almost certainly dead.

Everything hurt. A bit shaky, and realising she was beyond falling back asleep any time soon, Nora slowly forced herself to sit up. She kept the blanket wrapped tightly around herself, and rubbed at her eyes, blinking back tears. Struggling to calm down, she tried to steady her breathing, and stop her body from shaking. For a minute, it didn’t seem to help. Still, though she was unsure how much time had passed, the cloud above her body and mind seemed to abate, and she felt a bit lighter, a bit happier. Not thinking much of it, and looking for anything to keep her mind busy, Nora stood up and pulled on her jacket and shoes before opening the door, heading into the hallway, and up the stairs to the roof access. The closer she got to the stairs, the more she could hear of the jovial shouts and laughter coming from the bar she had come to know well, mostly for the conversations and occasional drinks with Vadim. For as eccentric as he was, Vadim’s ability to cheer people in his bar up was unparalleled. She paused, briefly, to take in the sounds, almost turning back to walk to the bar and join them. She couldn’t. Her mind began reeling, and feeling as though she had to run, Nora quickly made her way up to and opened roof access, though she nearly closed the door on herself when she realised someone was already up there. She only eased when, she realised, it was only Cait, who seemed to be perfectly content, laying on top of a towel.

“Cait?” Nora hesitantly pressed, a bit surprised when the woman sat up and turned to face her. “What are you doing up here?”

“I got kicked out of the Taphouse,” She shrugged, waving her over. “I’d be happy to tell you about it, but you got to promise me you won’t take Cooke’s side.”

“I promise,” Nora said with a faint smile, sitting down on the second towel Cait had laid out next to her. “Were you waiting for someone?”

“Was actually going to use that as something of a flag,” Cait replied with a shrug. “But you might as well use it. It’s less likely to be at the centre of any trouble if it ain’t in me hands.”

Nora raised an eyebrow. “Define trouble.”

“Well, depends on what you want to get into,” Cait said with a smirk. “I’d be happy to try and break into the mayor’s office and see what he’s hiding.”

“So would Piper,” Nora said, laughing a bit. “I can’t say I blame her. Something about him isn’t right. That’s the way with the vast majority of corrupt politicians, but his manner of it seems…oddly cruel.”

“He threw his own damn brother out of the city for being a ghoul,” Cait rolled her eyes. “As if that were the problem. I don’t really give a sh*te about politics, but McDonough is disgustingly power hungry.”

“It’s almost comforting,” Nora said dryly. “Reminding everyone, no matter what happens, you’ll always find terrible and corrupt politicians.”

Cait considered that. “Take it you saw plenty of those before the War?”

“I had been hoping to get into prosecuting white collar crimes, which, in short, are crimes committed by incredibly wealthy people, most often in a business setting,” Nora said, a hint of bitterness to her voice. “I never got the chance.”

“And that’s too bloody unfair,” Cait forced herself silent when she saw Nora trying not to cry. “I take it you can’t sleep because you’re worried about your husband and son? It’s alright. Pretty much anyone would be in the same place, if not worse. It’s an awful thing, missing the people you love.”

“It’s not just them,” Nora said quietly. “It’s everyone…I miss them. I miss my family, I miss my job and colleagues, and I miss my dead friends.”

Cait reached over and loosely wrapped her arms around the former lawyer as she broke down in tears, all but curling into herself. Her body shaking again, Nora tried to calm herself but found it all the more impossible to. Unable to fight it any longer, she gave into her emotions, and let Cait hold her while she cried. Their faces, their voices, everything crashed into her, and seemed inescapable. It was another life, wasn’t it? I let the dreams, fantasies, of how life was going to be subsume me…and look where it’s gotten me. Nate always used to say I had a way of understanding justice, a talent for it because I could step back and take in the world from the less judgemental, child’s eyes. But I’m not…I can never go back to who I used to be…no matter how much part of me wishes I could. Not thinking much of it, Nora shifted slightly to be held tighter in Cait’s arms, something the former cage fighter was more than happy to do. Slowly, Nora felt her body releasing some of its tension, and her tears slowly beginning to dissipate. But, even after they were gone, she found herself not wanting to let go of Cait, something about hearing the woman’s heart beat and light breathing comforting her.

Why do I feel so at ease around her? Cait is –

“Nora?” Cait sighed when the woman looked up at her, eyes still bleary from tears. “I miss mine too. I try not to think about it much but, sh*te, I miss my dead friends too.”

“What are we going to do about it, then?” Nora said, feeling the beginnings of a headache in the back of her skull. “We can’t save them, and we can’t –”

“We can’t save all of them, but we can save a few, and avenge the rest,” Cait shook her head. “We’re almost done getting our sh*te together to hunt down that Kellogg son of a bitch. We’re just waiting for your Minutemen to bring by that dog you found, aren’t we?”

“And a few other things,” Nora mumbled. “I know you’re right,” She eventually said. “But I can’t stop thinking about what he may have done to them. Shaun’s a baby, and Nate’s a solider but…something tells me Kellogg is worse than just about the majority of the commies were.”

“I’d believe it,” Cait said, shifting to let Nora turn and rest her head on her shoulder. “The world really went to hell. Wish things could have gone better. Maybe we’d all be better off.”

“I’m not sure it matters, not anymore,” Nora’s voice went quiet. “One of the last things I saw, when leaving the Vault the second time, after I retrieved the Pip-Boys with Derek, was a sign that said ‘America lives on in you,’ with a heart in the middle of a map of the continental US. As ridiculous as it sounds…seeing that made me horribly emotional. I don’t know how I didn’t break down after seeing it…but maybe I just knew what I needed to do.”

Cait nodded. “And you know what you’re looking for, now,” She reminded her. “Which is something to be proud of.”

“I want to be proud of it,” Nora said, her voice wavering. “I just can’t shake the fear, the sense that, if something terrible happened to Shaun and Nate, it’s my fault.”

“It’s not,” Cait promised, holding her steady. “What matters now is you still care, and are still looking for them, no matter what it takes. But…even if it’s not a happy ending…I’ll always stand by your side.”

The Institute
April the 27th, 2288
20:02

“I’m unsurprised by the Brotherhood’s actions, but I am disturbed,” Dr. Madison Li said, her eyes narrowing while she flipped through the joint report from Bioscience and Robotics. “I take it you’re planning more…adjustments to the Gen 3 programme?”

“Scaling back synth production,” Dr. Alan Binet said, dismayed. “And we will be collaborating with Bioscience in order to improve their resiliency and ability in the field. However, as Father stated, Robotics will be stepping back from the Gen 3 programme to adjust for and reduce the bugs in the Gen 1s and 2s we’ll be putting in the field.”

“Monitor your power consumption within the Institute closely,” Dr. Allison Filmore said, taking a glance over the Advanced Systems notes alongside Madison. “As I’m sure everyone is well aware, for the time being, the priority is on Phase Three, which largely falls under the purview of Advanced Systems.”

“Absolutely,” Dr. Clayton Holdren said, shaking his head. “So much as I wish we didn’t have to, I’ve submitted our plans to significantly scale down Bioscience power consumption by slowing the Synth Zoological Initiative.”

“Much appreciated,” Dr. Newton Oberly said, sharing a knowing look with Allie. “How are we looking in terms of power needs going into May?”

“We’ll need to pull from a few sources on the surface,” Allie said shortly. “That said, we should be able to make enough cuts to stay well within the bounds of our current capacities if all Divisions are cooperative.”

“Meaning the SRB?” Dr. Nathan Filmore sighed when his wife nodded. “How bad is it?”

“To the point of it being ridiculous,” Madison said irritably. “In the last report for the entire Directorate, the SRB reported using well over ten percent more power than they’re supposed to be using. If you’re wondering what the blackout the other week was caused by, it was because of the SRB’s overuse.”

“Their monitoring activities were supposed to stay on the low-power consuming and, I might add, successful raven, crow, and vulture synths made under the Synth Zoological Initiative, considering the synth birds require much less maintenance and do not need to be debriefed,” Allie said, exasperated. “Justin sent out three Coursers without properly documenting it to get away with the power overconsumption. Alana is working on restraining his activities. He won’t be happy about it, but our most important need out of the SRB in the coming month will be protecting the town of University Point, as it’s a critical Institute asset.”

“True,” Madison said with a frown, taking a moment to add a few notes to a document on her computer terminal. “Understandably, Miss Spencer has been shaken by the incident. Her and Dr. Orman have been primarily working on weaponry development, but I may reduce her workload a little without telling her. I’d rather not see her have an emotional breakdown because of the Brotherhood’s actions.”

“If I may,” Alan said curiously. “Would your want to protect Miss Spencer from having an ‘emotional breakdown,’ about the Brotherhood’s actions be because you have experienced such before?”

Madison bristled. “Alan, I really don’t see that to be the point of any of this, considering –"

“Lyons! I know you’re in there, I know you can hear me! You open this goddamn door right now!”

“Jacqueline is incredibly young,” Nathan said, sharing a knowing look with his wife. “None of us were prepared for the Brotherhood Of Steel to take such drastic and horrific actions. All other issues aside, they easily could have killed her father. I think it’s more than fair to say she’s terrified by the prospect of further action from them against the town.”

“As anyone would be,” Clayton said with a grimace. “I certainly want nothing to do with those lunatics in the Brotherhood. I think I speak for all of us when I say it will be a relief to have a Courser stationed there permanently. I’m relieved Father is taking the matter so seriously.”

“He would’ve had to have lost his mind to not,” Madison darkly replied. “The only gripe I have with him at the moment is his lack of transparency, though I’m certainly less concerned about it now, considering he informed the Directorate of this matter immediately.”

“I was surprised,” Clayton admitted, exhausted. “He still hasn’t had the old FEV lab fully scrubbed so we can re-adapt the space for other projects.”

Madison raised an eyebrow. “The FEV lab hasn’t been fully scrubbed? Why on earth not? I was under the impression the investigation of Dr. Virgil’s death was completed. At least, that’s what I was told.”

“I can’t explain it,” Clayton said, doing his best to hide his exasperation. “We already have plans drawn up for a more power efficient lab, one capable of handling multiple projects related to radiation-free food, made from what our scavengers bring back from the surface, as well as finishing out the old, unfinished half of the old FEV lab so we can develop a robust medicinal research facility.”

“Is Bioscience still having to provide power to the FEV lab?” Allie pressed, taken aback. “I haven’t seen any notes of that on my weekly reports on the whole of the Institute’s power consumption.”

“Or is it possible there’s an error from Bioscience’s records of power consumption?” Newton eyed him strangely when he shook his head. “How is that possible?”

“Probably a system error,” Alan told him. “I’ll make a note of it and email the concern to Father with the rest of the Directorate, of course, on the relayed message. Unfortunately, with the FEV programme being no longer active, it’s more than possible the laboratory has gone into ‘sleep,’ if you will, consuming power in the background and being factored into the rest of Bioscience under general consumption.”

“True or not, that doesn’t solve the problem,” Allie said pointedly. “Before the programme was discontinued, the FEV lab was the worst consumer of Institute power. There’s a damn good reason I, Dr. Li, and Dr. Holdren were adamant about the programme’s discontinuation before its dissolution.”

“I still don’t understand why the FEV programme went on as long as it did,” Alan said, almost aloofly. “I was under the impression we had no need of it after it was deemed unlikely to amount to anything in the summer of 2219. After I took over Robotics twenty years ago, I was, frankly, surprised to learn we still took some reports from the FEV programme. There was no need for a failing programme to continue, certainly not after our breakthroughs in synth development post-2227.”

“Well, what’s done is done,” Clayton said, tiredly rubbing at his neck. “We have, clearly, much more pressing concerns than the long since dead FEV programme.”

“If it’s a drain on our power consumption, it is a major concern,” Allie said. “But you’re not wrong. With the Brotherhood taking violent action against the Institute and the potential for an unprecedented slow down of Phase Three because of it, we need to direct more of our attention to getting Phase Three online as soon as possible regardless of what setbacks we may face.”

“Including those from the SRB’s unreported power consumption,” Clayton muttered. “Those Courser dispatchments without record is worse than what may be happening with the slowed scrubbing of the old FEV lab. We weren’t aware of the issue. They knowingly used three Coursers for apparently no reason without consulting the rest of the Directorate.”

“He certainly won’t get away with that again,” Madison said dryly. “With the placement of a Courser at University Point, we’ll have a just about permanent field operative active. I’d like to see Justin try to get away with not documenting Courser activity.”

“I don’t understand it,” Alan sighed. “I would have been fascinated to perform scans of those Coursers upon their returns and debriefings. Then again, Justin may not have wanted it documented to circumvent my efforts to determine the presence or lack thereof of Courser brain activity during sleep. I’m quite excited to gather more data on their dreams.”

Madison frowned. “Are you seriously still going on about synth dreams? Alan, with all due respect, if the Gen 3s are sentient, there are probably better, less subjective signs.”

“True,” Newton said, laughing. “How many times have I said it? In complete honesty, the Gen 3s are so lifelike, I sometimes mistake them for real people. It really does make you wonder if they're sentient.”

“And we all wonder that,” Allie said, pausing in thought. “But it can’t be our primary concern right now.”

Railroad Headquarters
April the 29th, 2288
11:29

“All things considered, our only chance to do anything in the Institute is with Patriot. If we can, it would be ideal to make direct contact with him before attempt to infiltrate the Institute.”

Surprised by himself, Carrington nodded and was pleased, for once, with Desdemona’s judgement. He waited for PAM to come into the headquarters’ primary meeting room from within the mainframe room. He pursed his lips in a bit of disapproval when Desdemona popped the cap of a Nuka Cola and pulled out a cigarette and her lighter. Desdemona’s lack of concern for her health is shocking. A bit of annoyance rising in his chest again, Carrington took a moment to calm himself, more used to restraining himself than he liked. Unperturbed as always, Deacon and Tinker Tom were almost conspiratorially talking, drawing something up. The only one who was just about entirely silent was Glory. Though he had expected her to regret going through with the experimental memory procedures with Amari, he had not expected her to be quiet and subdued long term. It was disconcerting. Glory being silent was uncomfortable, and, in many ways, it seemed she could snap at any moment. He glanced back at Desdemona, a bit surprised to see she was holding exhaustion in the whole of her body. She took another look over their current map of the Commonwealth and known or suspected locations of consistent Institute activity. Then, she turned back to all of them, stubbing out her cigarette with a heavy, tired sigh.

“Patriot is, in many ways, our secret weapon,” Desdemona finally said, brushing her fingers through her hair. “The Railroad owes Patriot a great deal of debt, which is precisely why we need to be able to contact him directly.”

“I have a pretty solid idea of how we can do it,” Tom said, taking his goggles off and back up onto the top of his headgear. “I’ve created an encrypted holotape with a message only he’ll understand. Only problem is we can only use it if we manage to get into the Institute.”

“Which leaves us with no solution to the contact issue,” Carrington irritably reminded him. “That plan hinges on us being able to use a holotape within the Institute in order to close the contact loop. If we can do so – and only if we can do so – closing the loop won’t necessarily be even our primary objective inside the Institute.”

“Unfortunately, he’s right,” Desdemona said, eyes narrowing when Carrington turned towards her with a slightly smug look on his face. “What we need to make our priority is identifying their weaknesses, specifically by getting all the information we can about not only them, but their plans and synths. Identifying Patriot will have to wait.”

“We know a little,” Tom excitedly said. “I’ve been trying to create an interpretive list of all the code words he gives synths! If there’s a pattern there, I’ll be able to find it.”

“If we can figure out what some of those words even mean,” Deacon said with a shrug. “I’ve had to go and research some of the sh*t he says to try and understand it. There were the easy ones, you know ‘monument’ and ‘lighthouse’ speak for themselves. But ‘Harvard?’ It took me a few days to find what that one meant. Turns out it was the name of a university in the pre-War Commonwealth.”

“The Institute has access to all the information in the world. I’m not surprised he referenced something obscure as a code word or, at least, obscure to us,” Desdemona shook her head. “If the Institute weren’t so selfish, and weren’t putting their energy into making synths to hold hostage and control, they could do the Commonwealth a lot of good.”

“It doesn’t matter,” Glory said, her voice quiet but furious. “Even if they were doing good, they’ve nullified it with the way they treat synths.”

“Speaking of which,” Carrington said, turning to her and falling silent when he saw the unusual, heavy anger in her eyes. “How did the operation go? You’ve been back for a few days, and still haven’t given us much in the way of a report.”

“You mean the operation out of the Medford area?” Glory said, frowning when he nodded. “It went terribly. Almost the worst it could go.”

“What happened?” Desdemona said, caught between worry and fear. “And are you alright, Glory?”

“I’m fine,” She said, crossing her arms. “B6-21, however, is not. She and the tourist got jumped by a scavenger while I was taking care of business. The scavenger drew a gun on her, and the tourist used her as a goddamned shield. The only good thing to come out of it is A9-34, the other synth we were trying to get to the Memory Den. She made it there safe and sound.”

Deacon grimaced. “So…I’m going to guess neither the scavenger nor tourist are still alive?”

“They’re not,” Glory said coldly. “And neither of them deserves to be. B6-21’s death is on their hands. I have no problem admitting to killing them. They deserved it.”

“Glory,” Desdemona hesitantly began. “Did you have to kill them?”

“Those strung out assholes killed an innocent person,” Glory said, her voice shaking. “And I have no doubt they would have let A9-34 be killed too, just because they cared more about themselves than doing the right thing. A9-34 is unharmed and will be able to safely escape the Commonwealth. That’s what matters, and you’re welcome.”

“Killing anyone should be the absolute last resort, Glory,” Desdemona said with a heavy sigh. “It should never be the first.”

“You keep throwing my ass into the deep end!” Glory said, biting back the urge to shout. “I can’t protect myself, our people, and the synths we’re rescuing without sometimes hurting one of your goddamned, precious humans!”

“Which is exactly why we need to figure out how the Institute makes those synth birds spying on people, like Tom’s always talking about,” Deacon said, taken aback when Glory looked between him and the others. “I’m not joking. If we could get one of their creepy little birds, then we could probably reverse engineer them.”

“I get the feeling Institute technology is at least a bit more advanced than that,” Carrington said dryly, unamused when Deacon shrugged. “We have only two people, actively, in this organisation with any semblance of technological knowhow. Even if Tom and I put our heads together and focused in on the matter – provided we could even get our hands on one of their birds – we likely wouldn’t be able to come close to reverse engineering them.”

“True,” Desdemona said, reaching over for her all but forgotten Nuka Cola. “But, if we could find a way to get one, we would still be able to get a significant amount of information about the nature of the Institute’s technology, particularly when it comes to stealth. It’s part of why we have been hoping, for years, to get our hands on a dead Courser again. Decrypting one of their chips would be immensely useful, and Tom seems confident he can do so now without the data completely corrupting in the process.”

“You want a dead Courser?” Glory smiled. “I’d be happy to find and kill one.”

“Because that’s not a terrifying idea at all,” Tom said with a shudder. “Have you seen what Coursers do, Glory? They –”

“I was a Courser!” She snapped, her chest rising and falling rapidly. “And, knowing that, I think I’m more than capable of finding a way to kill one with my own bare hands!”

“I’m all for there being one less active, pro-Institute Courser in the world, but…” Desdemona said, her voice softening when she met Glory’s eyes. “Not at the expense of your life. We need you, Glory, and so do any number of synths. You’ve saved the lives of hundreds of synths. Don’t risk throwing that away on a long shot.”

Glory swallowed hard. “And what if I had help? Deacon, maybe?”

“The two of you are not going out there to risk your lives on the slim chance of being able to kill a Courser,” Desdemona said morosely. “I’m sorry…but my decision is final.”

The Commonwealth
April the 30th, 2288
17:08

Though by no means a short distance from where the Minutemen had begun to regroup in Sanctuary, the trek out to the farm of a family in need of assistance was smooth, damn near a miracle in the Commonwealth.

No one among them, however, understood and savoured the feeling as much as Preston Garvey.

Life had never felt to let things go smoothly for very long. Every so often, as he kept telling himself was reasonable and logical, he would find himself dwelling on and unable to escape the past, not only since the Quincy massacre but his life before heading into the Commonwealth proper to join the Minutemen to begin with. Home. It wasn’t something he felt too strongly about, though a sharp pang of guilt coursing through his veins every time he found thoughts of the place he had grown up in suggested otherwise. Far Harbour. One of the strangest places in the Commonwealth, now I think about it. It’s probably a good thing we never were allowed to venture too far away from town. There’s something about the fog… Rocky. For as long as he could remember, life in Far Harbour and the Commonwealth proper had been rocky. It had felt easier, easier before Quincy, and, before then, easier before the infighting had begun. Yet, for as difficult as things had been, it did seem they were beginning to turn around. Seeing the family farm growing ever closer on the horizon, he tried to set his own thoughts aside to focus on their mission. Taking a look over his shoulders to make sure they were still there, Preston let out a sigh of relief when he saw Derek, Sturges, and the handful of others who came with them were no more than a few paces behind him. Smoothly. Things were still going smoothly.

And it somehow felt normal.

“You know the rule, anything that ain’t on the workbench is fair game when I’m cleaning.”

“Well, couldn’t you have asked –”

“If I had to stop and ask about –”

Caught by surprise, the woman and the man who had been talking amongst themselves turned quickly on their heels when they heard footsteps approaching. Realising she had drawn her gun, the man slowly pulled her arms down and smiled at the group as they got closer. Soon enough, he stepped forward to meet them halfway. The woman stood back, a bit wary, and glanced back towards where a younger man – her son – was tinkering with their power generator. After a minute, she set down her gun and walked over to join her husband, pleasantly surprised to find the group were not caravaners and, more pointedly, not a threat but members of the Commonwealth Minutemen. Wasn’t sure they were still around, not enough to do anything, at least, but…seems they are. Thank God. Maybe they’ll talk some sense into – She raised an eyebrow when one of the men politely tipped his hat to her and her husband, and, amused by the surprised look on her husband’s face, elbowed him a little. Seems eccentric, but at least well…intentioned. Do they really take the whole ‘tie to history’ thing seriously? Himself surprised, and far more so than he had anticipated, her husband began to ramble about their home, their family farm, but, abruptly, went silent with his gaze shifting to scowl at the old iron factory in the distance.

“Damn eyesore,” He said, attempting to supress his anger. “Apologies, haven’t even taken the decency to introduce myself,” He said, turning back to the group. “I’m Abraham Finch, this is my wife, Abigail, and over there’s our son Daniel.”

“Preston Garvey, Commonwealth Minutemen,” Preston replied, shaking hands with the couple. “We heard you were looking for help. What’s going on here?”

“Too damn much,” Abraham said darkly. “But recently? The eyesore ain’t the only problem over there. You ever heard of the Forged?”

“The Forged?” Derek repeated, puzzled. “Are they a militant order?”

“Thank God not,” Abraham said, biting back another wave of anger. “No, they ain’t anywhere close to that organised…or intelligent. They’re raider maniacs, most of ‘em have a lot of burns. Seem to think the more burnt they are, the more successful they are.”

Sturges frowned. “I’ve heard of raider gangs like that before. They’re never up to anything good.”

“No, they really aren’t,” Abraham agreed, his eyes narrowing when he glanced back at the factory again. “Bad enough they’re raiders, worse with them obsessed with fire and metal. I consider us lucky they haven’t come to torch us in the middle of the night.”

“Take it they’re holed up there, then?” Preston said, pausing for a moment until Abraham nodded, and titled his head towards the defunct factory. “What’s in there?”

“The old ironworks,” Abraham said, crossing his arms. “They were a menace enough, sometimes robbing, sometimes leaving little ‘presents’ for us in the form of sabotaging something of ours, but it’s come to a head recently because of my bastard son Jacob.”

Abigail sent him a pointed look. “The fighting between you two or not, he’s still our son.”

“Sure, he is,” Abraham said irritably. “Still snuck out in the middle of the night to join them, which would’ve been bad enough on its own without him stealing my granddad’s sword.”

“Sorry to hear it,” Sturges shook his head. “Things are always worse when they get personal, especially with family involved.”

“They certainly would be less aggravating if family weren’t involved,” Abraham said, taking another look at the farm. “If you’ll excuse me, I have work to get back to. I’m sure Abbey can fill you in on the rest.”

“Abe –” Abigail scolded, sighing when he simply walked away. “Well,” She said, turning back to the Minutemen. “I guess we could consider it a good sign he at least mentioned him. Don’t…bring it up to Abraham but, if you find our boy, you bring him home. I’ll get the two of them sorted out.”

“Of course,” Preston said, shaking her hand again. “Is there anything we should know?”

“About our boy?” Abigail hesitated. “To say the very least,” She eventually got out. “The two of them were at it again, and Jake must have taken off to the ironworks like he had been going on about. I never thought he would actually do it. Thought, really, he was trying to intimidate his dad. Guess it wasn’t so.”

“So, they fought, he stole the sword and snuck out, and now he’s joined the Forged?” Sturges grimaced when she nodded. “That’s not a good turn of events.”

“And it’s left me and our other son in the awkward position,” Abigail said tiredly. “In a perfect world, Daniel and Abraham would be planting, harvesting, and preparing crops, I'd be managing the home, trade, and finances, and Jake would be practising shooting, fixing up some of our defences. Tinkering. Funnily enough, tinkering is the one thing he and his father get along doing.”

“You mean the one thing they don’t want to kill each other doing,” A young man said, walking over to join them. “Danny Finch,” He said, taking off his hat for a moment. “They’ve been fighting for years. Honestly, I’m surprised this didn’t happen earlier.”

“Well, hopefully they’ll sort this out,” Abigail said, glancing back at her husband. “Abe’s stubborn, and so is Jake, but I’m not going to let them tear each other apart.”

“We’ll bring him home safely,” Derek reassured her. “It’ll take time, but we’ll find a way to bring him back. Knowing where he is and who he’s with is important, and having that information already is good.”

“I just wish we could have done something about it ourselves,” Abigail shook her head. “Jake’s our youngest, only nineteen, and the thought of losing him is…it’s too much.”

“No one should have to go through losing a child,” Preston said, flinching when sounds of gunshot rang out from, he reckoned, nearby the factory. I sure hope Nick is able to help Nora find Shaun. That baby needs her just as much as she needs him. “Derek’s right. We’ll bring him home.”

“It’s not just me or mom who need him home either,” Daniel said, pausing a moment before lowering his voice. “The satellite array over there? There are Brotherhood teams out there, every so often. We usually don’t mind them, they keep the mutants at bay but…they’re ‘asking’ for physical support, from our crops, from what we scavenge ourselves, and we’re not sure how long we can refuse their demands even though we can’t afford to hand our resources over. Even if we were to cut back significantly on what we trade, we still wouldn’t be able to help them and get by."

“How long have the Brotherhood been there?” Derek asked, not bothering to hide the anger rising in his chest. “We’ve heard they’ve been in the Commonwealth for a little while, now, but we didn’t realise their activity was more than simple…scouting operations and some potential pre-War tech retrieval.”

“Wish it were that,” Daniel grimly agreed. “But, unfortunately, they seem to have far from good intentions here.”

“I was worried that would happen,” Preston sighed. “Damn the Brotherhood. Why don’t they go back where they came from? All they seem to do is make things worse.”

“I’d usually say the safest thing to do is stay out of their way,” Derek said, his eyes narrowing behind his glasses when he looked over towards the satellite array. “But, evidently, that’s not possible.”

Preston nodded. “I kind of doubted the Brotherhood’s intentions in the Commonwealth as a whole were peaceful, but they’re…they’re showing their true colours.”

“It’s a goddamn disgrace,” Derek swore under his breath. “We’ll deal with them. They won’t bother you or attempt to rob you again.”

“Thank you,” Abigail smiled. “Glad to know the Minutemen are back.”

“We are too,” Preston said, shaking her hand. “And we won’t let you down.”

“As long as you get them off our back, we’ll be thrilled,” Daniel said, scowling at the satellite array in the distance. “They have no shame.”

“Which is where they’ve gone so wrong,” Derek said. “The lack of respect for human life is disgusting. For supposed ‘guardians’ of human life, they’re remarkably selfish. The way they changed after…well, I don’t suppose you folks have heard of the Enclave.”

“Afraid not,” Daniel said, curiosity piqued. “They some sort of pre-War organisation?”

“The remnants of one,” Derek replied. “They were the remnants of the United States Federal Government after the War, and were incredibly corrupt. The Brotherhood were the only group in the country willing to fight them, and they won. We destroyed the last of the Enclave in 2279, and restored peace, law, and order to the Capital Wasteland and, as far as I'm aware, the South and Deep South, though the Brotherhood’s forces there had put down the Enclave in those areas earlier than we did in the Capital Wasteland. However…many in the Brotherhood, including in their leadership, have lost their way in the years since. I was forced into retirement by them in 2282, which was when my family and I ended up here, in the Commonwealth.”

“Damn,” Abigail let out a low whistle. “They really are a far cry from what they used to be only a decade ago, then. Really, more than anything, it’s demoralising to think on.”

“It really is,” Preston said with a resigned sigh. “They’re the shoot first, ask questions later types, no doubt about that.”

“Makes you hope the Institute is real,” Daniel said dryly. “If they are, they’re probably the only people who can kick the Brotherhood out of the Commonwealth.”

“Danny!” Abigail scolded. “The last thing we want is to invite those bastards to bother us too!”

“They ain’t interested in farmers, if they’re real at all,” Daniel shook his head. “And, honestly, I’d be more inclined to trust them if only because they ain’t pretending to be great saviours by grace of God.”

Diamond City
May the 1st, 2288
10:01

After having to delay their departure to the Commonwealth’s ‘great green jewel,’ finally stepping through the gates of the city was almost a relief.

Still, something about it left both Dr. Annette Christine Davis and Robert Joseph MacCready uneasy.

For Annette, the little she had heard about Diamond City had been a mix of both people longing to be able to afford to live in a home in the apparently luxurious ‘upper stands,’ and anger towards the mayor of the city. Almost amusingly, Hanco*ck had gone on a tirade (while, she suspected, very high) against Diamond City’s mayor from the balcony of the Old State House, during which he had talked at length about their relationship growing up. From the sounds of it, those two could not be more different if they really are brothers. Though I don’t doubt Hanco*ck became a ghoul from experimenting with narcotics. He clearly does enough of them out in the open for the possibility to be more than there, likely, even. He wasn’t the only one in Goodneighbour who had been all too eager to warn her about the ‘great green jewel.’ When she had been told they were going to the city to see if a job offer would pan out, Daisy had been stern, almost motherly, telling the both of them to be careful of the city’s security. What had surprised her was the other warning Daisy had given her. Be careful what you say to people. People here don’t mind you telling them what you’re really thinking. It’s a whole different world there, especially with the rich people. The warning still took her aback. Not only had it been unprecedented, but it had felt all too familiar. Uncomfortable with the thought and the feelings it entailed, Annette had pushed it as far to the side as possible, focusing instead on getting to the city as quickly and safely as possible.

It wasn’t the only feeling she was trying not to dwell on.

For Robert Joseph MacCready, the anxiety of leaving had been two fold; it was never easy to leave Duncan, fear of every time he saw him being the last, but, this time, he had felt incredibly guilty. It wasn’t only about leaving his son. I…please don’t think I’m betraying you, Lucy. It’s been hell without…but I…I can’t live like this forever. I…I know you’re gone. And I know you’re not coming back. Still, even with the whispers, he found himself smiling when he and Annette spoke, about little things or not, and having her around was comforting. As for the city, the first thing that stood out to him was the increase in security. The second was the way security seemed to be following every step he took. I’m probably being a bit paranoid. Having to watch your back in Goodneighbour will do that to you. Diamond City. Unlike Goodneighbour’s (occasionally) chaotic neighbourhood watch, the ‘great green jewel’s’ security staff were well organised and well trained. That, he reasoned, was most likely why it made him uneasy. Last group of people this well organised and trained I was around were the gunners. And they still won’t… Anxiety seizing him at the thought, he tried not to ruminate on it. For as eccentric as the man could be, Hanco*ck always made good on his promises. Even if the gunners came back looking for him again, they wouldn’t find his son, and they wouldn’t find where he went. Shaking himself out, MacCready forced himself to refocus, only to stop in surprise when he saw a certain writer with a slightly sinister smile on her face watching him and Annette.

“Piper?” MacCready tried not to laugh when she hopped down from where she had been sitting on the edge of the roof of her office. “Don’t tell me you’re the one who’s offering the job, are you? Let me guess…are we finally having that one on one interview?”

“Never in a million years, MacCready,” Piper said, brushing herself off with a mischievous glint in her eyes. “But don’t worry – I promise this job will be not only well paid but interesting. First, though, why don’t you introduce me to your new friend?”

“This is Annette,” He said, smiling when he looked at her. “She and I are…working together.”

Piper smirked. “Working together…sure. I’ll buy it.”

Annette and MacCready nervously glanced at each other, a bit flustered.

“So,” Annette quickly said. “What’s the job?”

“See the lift over there?” Piper said, disdainfully looking over at it and the signs leading up to it. “Goes to the mayor’s office. And I need someone to help me spy on him.”

MacCready raised an eyebrow. “To what end?”

“Depends,” She said with a slightly devious look. “In the short term? To embarrass him. In the long term? To prove I’m right about him being a synth working for the Institute.”

“I keep hearing about the Institute, and their synths, but I still don’t understand what the point of any of it is,” Annette sighed. “Sorry, I’m not from the Commonwealth, but, the more I hear about the Institute, the more I can’t help but wonder what the point of any of it is.”

“You’re not alone,” Piper told her. “Pretty much everyone wonders why the Institute do what they do and why they make synths. I’ve been investigating those creeps for well over a year, now, and I still don’t get it. They really are the Commonwealth’s bogeyman, feared and hated by everyone.”

“And you really think the mayor here is working for them?” MacCready considered that when Piper nodded. “I guess it wouldn’t be too much of a surprise. Then again, I might have just heard Hanco*ck talk about him one too many times.”

“Hanco*ck has every reason to hate him,” Piper said, with a slight grimace. “He may be my second least favourite mayor, but at least he has human f*cking decency. McDonough has been running this city for the last six years, and he officially kicked his brother out – barred him from ever coming in again, really – after he turned into a ghoul and only because he turned into a ghoul. But that’s one of McDonough’s things. He hates ghouls.”

“And you, and pretty much anything that so much as breathes in a way he thinks is ‘improper,’” MacCready listed off. “I’m in. The man’s the worst. I don’t think I’ve ever met anyone who actually likes him, although, being in Goodneighbour, I’ve met a lot of people who despise him.”

“Only people I think actually like him are a few of the worst people in the upper stands, and, of course, his secretary,” Piper winked. “But you didn’t hear that last one from me.”

“Heard what from you?” MacCready rolled his eyes when Piper scowled. “Alright, alright,” He said, putting his hands up in mock surrender. “I got to ask, though, what makes you think McDonough’s with the Institute?”

“Starts with the mysterious courier that comes by every month,” Piper replied. “Thing is, no one has ever managed to get a decent look at him. Even if it’s a coincidence, or – something I seriously doubt – McDonough somehow doesn’t know the courier is from the Institute, it could still give us a lot on them.”

“What do you already know about the Institute?” Annette said, trying to mask her curiosity a bit. “Other than them being the ones who make synths and are the ones usually blamed when something goes wrong, that is.”

“Sadly, a lot less than I wish I knew,” Piper shook her head. “Sometimes, they snatch people in the middle of the night. And, sometimes, they leave old synths behind to remind us they’re out there. The skeletal ones, or the ones that look half human. Then, there are the synths you can’t tell the difference between them and us, and a lot of them probably don’t even know they’re synths. There are also rumours about people who help synths escape the Institute, and wipe their minds to make them harder to find.”

“If those people are real, I’m impressed,” MacCready admitted. “Anyone willing to risk their lives to help synths escape the Institute has serious nerve. Most people just hope they never come into contact with the Institute. Myself included.”

“Can’t say I blame you. I still worry one of these days the Institute is going to decide today’s the day to pay Piper and family a visit,” She hesitated. “But I can’t help wanting to know more. I mean, to this day, there’s one thing nobody knows about them, and that’s where the Institute actually is or how to get in. And, honestly? I would love to know. But we can think about that later. For now…I want to pick your brains a bit."

MacCready laughed. “Whose brain do you not want to pick?”

“Fair point,” Piper said, smirking when she saw him and Annette glancing at each other. “But I really want to do it with you and your new ‘friend.’”

Chapter 16: Something Stolen

Chapter Text

The Commonwealth
May the 2nd, 2288
9:14

Taking one last look over her shoulder at the fading visage of Diamond City in the distance, Nora Jacqueline Norwich tightened her hands around her revolver. They were really doing it.

Wherever Kellogg was, he couldn’t stay hidden forever.

Having sat down, staring expectantly at the detective, the lawyer, and the former cage fighter, Dogmeat happily barked when Nora reassuringly pet him around his ears. When she stopped, he waited for her to begin again only to suddenly begin sniffing the half smoked cigar and dirty ashtray Nora presented him with. Barking again before starting to take off, Nora dropped the cigar and ashtray back into their zip-shut plastic bag, and handed them off to Nick, who slipped the make shift evidence bag back into his inner coat pocket. Then, they were off. A bit too enthusiastically, Cait was never more than a few paces behind Dogmeat, only pausing every so often to swap out which weapon she wanted to have at the ready, pulling one out and dropping the other back into her bag. When she finally settled on a pair of twin knives, she had a mischievous glint in her eye, almost as though she were itching for a fight. Herself much more stricken by fear of what they would or would not find, Nora put as much of her energy as she could into focusing on the act of tracking rather than the reasons for it. Forgetting why they were doing what they were began to grow all the more impossible as it continued to whisper at the edges of her thoughts, however, and Nick’s warning rang out in her ears again.

Kellogg is dangerous because he thrives off death, destruction, suffering, violence, and pain.

Shaken by the fear which bolted through her at the thought of Kellogg having done much worse than simply separating her family, Nora tightened her grip on her revolver and closely eyed the surroundings she, Cait, and Nick passed by, pursuing what Dogmeat had managed to get a trace on. Following him out of the city had felt strange, at first, not only leaving behind safety but the known. Yet running through the streets, past old buildings, burnt out street lamps, and lifeless traffic stops had still felt almost normal. It was when they were over the bridge and the city well behind them things began to feel out of place. Everything feels out of place. How could it not? She kept running, but began to slow her pace when she began to feel pain rising in her chest. As she slowed, she saw Dogmeat had paused, looking around for her, Nick, and Cait. When the creature realised the three were still with him, he began barking again, waiting for them to follow. Wary of their surroundings, Nick hesitated, startling when Cait all but chased after Dogmeat, who had begun circling an area near an old, burnt out car and a covered, mostly intact RV trailer. He called out to her, warning her to be careful, only to be startled when she cut him off, waving him and Nora over, Dogmeat still circling the area.

“Lovely place for a campsite,” Cait said dryly, stepping into the trailer. “I, for one, would feel incredibly safe sleeping out here in f*ck all –”

“It ain’t the prettiest place, but it’s covered and has a lock,” Nick pointedly reminded her, raising an eyebrow when he noticed the table behind her. “Well, would you look at that. Seems someone cut themselves up real bad.”

Cait whipped around, nearly slamming herself into the refrigerator. Nora grimaced, but soon found herself just as surprised as the detective. Left on the table, alongside an assortment of useless things, were dried yet bloodied bandages, bent as though they had been once wrapped around a human hand. Slipping off her backpack, Nora pulled out a pair of leather gloves, slipped them on, and carefully peeled the bandages off from where they had been left on the table. Dogmeat perked up when he saw what she was doing, and began to circle around her legs, barking. He stopped when she knelt down and presented the bandages to him, frantically sniffing them. Once he was satisfied he recognised and understood the scent of blood left and dried on the bandages, Dogmeat jumped out of the still open door into the RV trailer, and waited for the detective, lawyer, and former cage fighter to follow him. Nick took the bandages from Nora, who removed her gloves. Then, he slipped the bandages into another zip-shut bag, dropping it into his inner coat pocket alongside the dirty ashtray and half smoked cigar. No more than a minute later, he stepped out of the RV just behind Nora and Cait and quickly followed after Dogmeat, onto the road again.

All but bolting towards the old train tracks, Dogmeat only stopped when the footsteps behind him slowed. He barked happily when he saw Nora, Cait, and Nick, and ran between their legs, eager to inspect them. When he finally finished sniffing them, Dogmeat took off again but suddenly skidded to a halt, crouching close to the ground, growling, and he let out a snarl when a mole rat burst through the ground and let out an ear piercing screech. The first was quickly followed by a second, third, and then a fourth, fifth, and sixth, the vicious burrowers angered at the disturbance. Cursing loudly when one of the mole rats nearly bit her, Cait began stabbing at them with her twin knives. She kicked one off her leg, and began stomping at its head, not stopping until the ear splitting squeals of the mole rats ceased. Nick shot the mole rats away from Dogmeat, who was snarling and biting back at them, while Nora shot them down as soon as they were off Dogmeat. When only the sounds of themselves and their weapons remained, Nick let out a tired sigh of relief, Cait wiped the blood off her knives and sheathed them before taking a look at the carcasses to see if there were anything worth taking off them, and Nora calmed Dogmeat, petting him until he sat up, his tail waving a little, and his breathing steady. Happily, he licked her hands and nuzzled her arms before, taking the hint, began sniffing the ground and trying to find the scent of Kellogg again.

Cait sighed when she looked up at the sky, clouds beginning to form, crossing her arms while she walked, her gait slower than before. When he realised it was only Nora and Dogmeat in his periphery, Nick turned around, and waited until Cait caught up with them to keep going. Catching up to Nora and Dogmeat, the detective and the former cage fighter shared a wary look, the sounds of gunshots ringing out in the distance. Just as tense, Nora let her hands grip her revolver tight, fingers hovering over the trigger. Noticing the change in the movements of his humans, Dogmeat began to circle around them, starting with Nora and then going to Cait before finally turning to Nick. Amused by the dog’s interest in his ungloved, mechanical hand, Nick tickled Dogmeat underneath his chin. Giving the creature a few reassuring pats on the head, Nick gently pushed him to focus on tracking again, reminding himself to be patient with him. He’s probably been through a lot too. Dogs are strangely perceptive of humans. It’d be fascinating to know if he sees me as human or not. Can the dog tell I’m a synth? If he can, wonder why it don't scare him. Almost absentmindedly and oblivious to the detective’s silent walking with them and his thoughts, Cait pulled one of her guns out and fidgeted with it, finally reloading and co*cking it. She grinned when she looked over at Nora, who startled when she noticed but smiled back only to lose all levity in her face and stopped short, seeing Dogmeat circling outside the door to a large warehouse well off to the right from the train tracks.

“Sexy,” Cait said dryly, kicking aside some cans littered outside the building. “Bet this is a real fancy place to stay, and a real good place to lose your virginity.”

“If you want to get tetanus,” Nick frowned, entering the building with Dogmeat. “Come on, boy,” He said, patting the dog’s head again. “Why’d you bring us here?”

Dogmeat let out a loud bark in response, his tail flicking anxiously until he saw Nora had entered the building too. He ran over to her again and began sniffing her hands before running towards a set of uneven stairs, partially obscured by fraying boxes. Cait chuckled a bit to herself, making a dark comment on what could be inside the boxes and causing them to fray. If they heard her, neither Nick or Nora thought much of it. Hesitant, unsure of the integrity of the stairs, Nora slowly made her way down, keeping Dogmeat safely in her sights, Cait walking no more than a step or two behind her. Either unfazed or aloof, Nick all but chased after Dogmeat, the creature seemingly picking up his pace with every step he took. When they reached the bottom of the stairs, they found themselves standing in the remains of one of the long since abandoned highways, tunnel access no more than a few feet away from where they stepped off from the stairs. Dogmeat began barking again, running towards something but suddenly skidding to a halt.

That was when they saw the bodies.

Nora let out a horrified gasp, only to swallow back the thoughts beginning to race through her head. Nick grimaced, and slowly approached where Dogmeat was, standing over them and still barking. Cait swore under her breath but, seeing Nora taken aback by the sight and the scent of death that hit them, tried to force herself to take in the scene seriously. Years of dark humour and a life of fighting had dulled the sight, a little, but the one thing she knew she would never be unbothered by was the scent of death. The scent that came with dead bodies was one very few people could become familiar enough with to be unfazed by. So much as she wished she were one of them, death was something that always unsettled her. When she and Nora approached the bodies, it became clear they had been there a little while; not decomposed enough to be considered completely rotting but not recently deceased enough to look just about as they had in life. The slaughtered brahmin nearby, with cases still strapped to it and flies and gnats swarming at and feasting on its decaying flesh, gave more than enough context to the scene. Caravaners, just trying to get by. And now they were dead, their bodies limp and lifeless, stacked on top of each other as though they were worth nothing. It was only when Nick took a closer look at the body of a woman, the woman upon which the other bodies had been cast aside, things felt truly off. Death and robberies happened every day.

But it wasn’t every day one of those killed had a chip still in their brain, seemingly undamaged though the skull had been crushed in.

“Is that…” Nora raised an eyebrow, kneeling down beside Nick. “She was a synth?”

“Not sure how else a synth component would be left here,” Nick said grimly. “The Institute has gotten good at making their technology durable, I’ll give them that, but I don’t get the feeling her head was bashed in just for the hell of it.”

“All the others are too,” Cait said, wrinkling her nose at the smell when she knelt down across from them, right next to the piled up bodies. “All five of ‘em, crushed like berries.”

“Pleasant thought,” Nick delicately removed the synth component from the remaining brain and skull matter before reaching over to close the woman’s eyes. “Takes a real nasty person to kill five people so brutally. I think we’re on the right track.”

“Sure, but why’d that Kellogg bloke want to make sure the people he killed were synths if we’re still working the idea he’s with the Institute?” Cait said, standing up quickly and brushing herself off. “I reckon they wouldn’t be happy about him destroying their property.”

“If the Institute thought a synth couldn’t be reclaimed, I wouldn’t be surprised if they let them be killed rather than out and about,” Nick shook his head. “Can’t remember much about ‘em, far as I’ve ever been able to tell, no synth can. My story? I got built, I got old, I got tossed, and then I opened up my detective agency. But most synths, the ones everyone’s afraid will replace ‘em? They all either ran away or are out here for a reason.”

Cait snorted. “What reason? Just to replace people for the hell of it?”

“If I had to guess, probably so they can spy on the rest of the Commonwealth,” Nick said, bagging the synth component. “They have their early model synths stripping whole towns for parts, killing everything in their way, and, again, you have the newer models who are either out here on purpose, to infiltrate cities, spy on all of us, and pull strings from the shadows, or escaped and trying to get the hell out of dodge. What I’ve never been able to understand is why. Why does the Institute do these things, and what’s the point? You’d think I’d know, being a synth myself, but they’re smart enough to cover their tracks.”

“Not smart enough to not leave their sh*t around,” Cait darkly remarked. “Why do you want that thing anyways?”

“I have a friend in Goodneighbour who might have use of it. Might be the only woman in the Commonwealth smart enough to figure out any of the Institute’s technology,” Nick said, slipping the bag into his pocket. “They may be smart enough to cover their tracks, and arrogant enough to throw their unwanted trash into the Commonwealth to fend for itself, but they can’t be perfect.”

“Sure like to think they are,” Nora said, running her hands through her hair. “God damn it. When we find Kellogg, if he really is in league with the Institute, he’s going to get the nastiest surprise of his life.”

“f*ck around and find out,” Cait agreed with a slightly sinister smile. “Nicky’s right. They can’t be perfect. But,” She paused a moment in thought before turning to Nick. “I got to ask – how come you can’t remember much about them?”

“It’s not just me, it’s any synth that gets trashed, left behind, or escapes the Institute,” Nick said bitterly. “Some kind of security setting strips or blocks out those memories, probably some kind of failsafe. They wouldn’t have cut me loose if I had something on ‘em, and they threw me in the junk pile ages ago, just another discarded prototype, and they sure as hell didn’t leave me the house keys.”

“So…” Nora sighed. “So then what the hell happened here? Kellogg was supposed to find a synth and kill them for the Institute?”

“Either that or they came into contact with someone just as dangerous,” Nick said, stepping over to Nora when he realised she was shaking to help her back on her feet. “Nora, listen to me,” He said once she was steady enough on her feet. “When we find Kellogg, if he’s really the one who kidnapped your son and husband, then he’s dangerous, but so are you. No one was there to help me figure out what to do when I ended up out here, and no one should go through that. Cait and I have your back and I mean it when I say you don’t need to be afraid of Kellogg or anything else the Commonwealth throws at you.”

Capital Wasteland
May the 5th, 2288
19:08

“Interrogation number twenty nine. Interrogators, Elder Arthur Jonathan Maxson, Lancer Captain Alexander Winchester Kells, Knight Captain Aaron Ronald Cade, Proctor Elisabeth Mischelle Ingram, Proctor Marshall Walter Quinlan, and Proctor Keith Skyler Teagan. Subject, Charles Alexander Zimmer.”

Glowering at the restraints holding him to a chair and at the table, Dr. Charles Zimmer pursed his lips when he met the critical gazes of the people who had all but condemned him to a fate worse than death in their so-called Citadel for nearly two months. As far as he was concerned, it was not only insulting to his status and intelligence but outrageously unjust. Yet for all the complaints he was prepared to lodge with the rest of the Directorate upon his release and return to the Commonwealth, the one he found most pertinent was the fact an arrogant, twenty one year old boy was responsible for his treatment and the leader of the theoretically benevolent Brotherhood Of Steel. The impression they had made on him was far from a positive one, and it had more than outdone the decade of assumptions he had made on them and their activities. So far as he was concerned, the only good the Brotherhood had ever done was putting an end to the ‘Enclave’ and their madness. More than ready for them to either release him themselves or inadvertently provide him with an opportunity to escape, Dr. Charles Zimmer took a contemptuous glimpse over his captors. The arrogant boy who had somehow managed to become their leader and his frigid second in command. The medical specialist, the woman who never took off her power armour, the condescending analyst, and the man who seemed to spend all of his time finding ways to get things for them, no matter how underhanded the methods. None of them, to him, even deserved to know about the Institute’s existence and, yet, they did.

“I don’t see the point in continuing this charade,” Zimmer said, his eyes narrow behind his glasses. “You are by now well aware of some what we are capable of. At the very least, you’re now well aware of your own shortsightedness, all you having known of robots being those buckets of bolts, those Mister Handshakers and whatnot. Was that not the point of this, you learning not all a robot can be is a glorified tin can?”

“Charming as ever, Zimmer,” Ingram frowned. “And, yet again, beyond arrogant. You know as well as we do you haven’t told us everything, not the least of which being how you create your dangerous machines and what you have been forcing upon Dr. Li.”

“That’s Doctor Zimmer to you, Miss…miss whatever your name is. I’d have thought you barbarians would be more interested and more intelligent in your understandings of advanced technology, but it seems I was mistaken,” Zimmer let out a hollow laugh. “As for Dr. Li, she is not being forced to do anything for us. Your own assumptions about her grow more nonsensical by the day. Though I doubt you’ll understand, Dr. Li is quite valued by the Institute. So much so she has risen to quite the respectable position. As for our synthetic humans, I find it amusing you keep asking when it’s more than clear you don’t understand my answers.”

“Perhaps the lack of understanding is intentional on your part,” Quinlan said evenly. “Quite the miscalculation, if you believed we would be satisfied by your quibbling and pretence.”

“Indeed,” Kells said, referring to a long set of notes from previous interrogations placed between himself and Maxson. “Your comments on what you call the ‘FEV,’ for instance, have been nonsensical at best and intentionally misleading at worst.”

“Ah, yes, the Forced Evolutionary Virus,” Zimmer snorted. “Did you not know the ‘Enclave’ you destroyed had their own version of it they were planning to poison the water purifier you appropriated with? Quite frankly you should be thanking me for making that plan of theirs impossible even before you put an end to their organisation. Had I not found a way into their laboratories to steal their research, they almost certainly would have used it to kill as many of your precious wastelanders as possible.”

“A single good deed does not override a life of cruelty and playing God,” Maxson sharply replied. “I for one also doubt you acted as you did for the benefit of anyone but yourself and your Institute.”

“We did want to examine a form of the FEV we did not synthesise from stolen records of old, long dead projects in the Commonwealth,” Zimmer said with a smug glint in his eyes. “It did not wield any results and was destroyed and discarded. The strain of FEV we ourselves developed was extensively modified to coalesce with undamaged human DNA we recovered to create the perfect machine. I was a child at the time of these developments, and my mentor, Dr. Walter, was the mastermind behind the project. Leader of the entirety of the Institute’s Robotics programme, as it happens, and a close colleague to the-then quite young Dr. Syverson.”

“You corrupted human DNA to manufacture false humans?” Quinlin repeated, disgusted. “In what world is that a reasonable thing to do?”

“One you and your closed minds could never understand,” Zimmer said icily. “Really, how do you people live like this? It’s as though you believe surrounding yourselves with as much technology as possible will protect you even if you don’t know how or why it works.”

“That’s a rather strange assumption,” Kells eyed the man critically. “Over the years, the Brotherhood have completed a multitude of major projects and feats of complex, integrated technologies, perhaps one of our greatest achievements being the Prydwen.”

“Yes, your little ship,” Zimmer scoffed. “Quite frankly, I find it less impressive than the project you coerced Dr. Li into working on just over ten years ago. It was far from a priority of mine to have investigated, but that oversized bomb carrier you used to put an end to the Enclave is by far the most impressive feat you people have ever accomplished.”

“So, you know about Liberty Prime,” Maxson met the man’s cold stare with one of his own. “Tell me – what do you know about the project and Dr. Li’s involvement?”

“She was never eager to discuss it, no matter how hard I pressed her on it,” Zimmer said, sounding almost amused. “If you’re referring to what I know about what happened with it, I am well aware it was destroyed alongside the Enclave, and what its overall weaknesses are. For instance, as you well know, there’s only one person who was ever able to resolve its power distribution and management problems, a person who will want nothing to do with you. Additionally, because of its gargantuan size, the robot is slow and vulnerable to orbital missile strikes and high yield artillery which, in the right bombardments, could destroy its armour. Why are you asking? Are you frightened by the knowledge Dr. Li is with us and has inside knowledge on what your robot is capable of?”

“Quite frankly, it is important for us to gauge how much the Institute knows about us and our capabilities before we arrive in the Commonwealth,” Quinlan informed him. “Which brings us to the question you have been most eager to dodge. Where is the Institute?”

“Right in front of your faces, and you can’t even put the pieces together,” Zimmer snorted. “We are the remains of the Commonwealth Institute Of Technology, or, as it had been called before the 2040s, the Massachusetts Institute Of Technology. I should think our location is therefore quite self explanatory.”

“Making a mockery of our intelligence is doing you no favours,” Cade warned him. “We’re well aware the CIT has been in ruins since the 2080s, and are well aware you have not rebuilt it.”

“We’ve been trying to get this information from him for weeks,” Teagan shook his head. “He’s not going to give us the answer, not even if we resort to enhanced interrogation techniques.”

“Enhanced interrogation techniques?” Zimmer exclaimed, affronted. “Is that what you people call torture as a way to justify it? Perhaps you have adopted the same attitude as the pre-War US military. But you are correct. I am not going to put our work in jeopardy for the sake of amusing and flattering your blasé curiosities.”

“Then we have nothing more to discuss,” Kells stood up and opened the door, beckoning two Paladins standing guard outside into the Brotherhood’s Strategic Command. “Take him away and prepare him for execution.”

“Execution?” Zimmer attempted to wrench out of the grasp of the Paladins as they detached him from his restraints. “That was not a part of our agreement! I agreed to answer some of your questions, after which you would let me –”

“For a supposed genius, you're incredibly shortsighted,” Ingram sighed. “You know too much, Zimmer, and you are a danger to us all.”

“Your ‘synth’ has already met the same fate,” Kells flatly informed him. “Thank you for the information you’ve so reluctantly given us on that programme. It will be quite useful to us in the process of disassembling and reconstructing it.”

“How fortunate for you,” Zimmer dryly spat, his gaze darkening when he saw the young woman who had been waiting outside the room for the meeting to conclude. “So, your husband and his army have condemned me to death,” He sneered. “I should have let my bodyguard kill you when I had the chance.”

“That’s more than enough,” Maxson said, standing up and stepping over to where the Paladins had paused, still holding Zimmer in restraint. “Take him away,” He ordered. “I think it’s safe to say we’ve all heard more than enough.”

“Yes, we have,” Kells said, watching the man continue to fruitlessly struggle against the strength of the Paladins until they were out of sight around the corner. “Apologies for having to witness that, Missus Maxson,” He said, turning to Karissa. “I hope you can take comfort in knowing, at 6:25 this morning, we executed his ‘synth’ bodyguard by lethal injection and will be executing him in the same manner tomorrow morning.”

“Thank you, Lancer Captain Kells,” She said with a smile as she shook his hand. “I trust you, my husband, Cade, and the Proctors were able to retrieve substantial information from him?”

“We did indeed,” Kells proudly told her. “While he was less cooperative than we had hoped, we still are inclined to believe, alongside information we have received from Paladin Danse and his team, our arrival in the Commonwealth will not only be smooth but ultimately successful.”

“Wonderful,” She said, shaking hands with Cade and the Proctors when they began to leave too. “Good work, all of you.”

As the rest of the Brotherhood’s leadership passed by, she watched them all walk down the long halls of the Citadel until they turned a corner and were out of sight. Primly adjusting her blouse, skirt, and blazer, the ever patient and restrained Karissa Alberta Maxson half masked her excitement to see her husband when he stepped out of the Brotherhood’s Strategic Command himself, not wanting herself to be a nuisance to security. Still, when the two of them were in close reach, her otherwise rigid body relaxed a little, and she took his hands in hers. The two of them glanced at their surroundings, and the both of them seemed to ease, albeit just a little, when it became clear it was only them and the Knights standing guard at the end of the corridor.

“You have nothing more to worry about, ‘Rissa,” Arthur paused one last time to ensure they were just about alone before embracing her. “The Institute and their synth menace are well within our ability to destroy once we arrive in the Commonwealth.”

“Well, I’m certainly happy to hear it,” Karissa said, resting her hands on his chest. “It’ll be a fine line in the legacy we’ll one day leave alongside our child.”

“’Rissa…” Arthur stared at her for a moment, stunned. “We finally succeeded?”

Karissa beamed. “We did, and it only took a year. Quite the wonderful surprise for our wedding anniversary, don’t you think?”

“It truly is,” He said with a chaste kiss to her lips. “I presume you’ve informed our medical staff?”

“I thought we ought to together,” She replied. “After all, we will be raising the next Elder.”

Arthur smiled. “That we will, ‘Rissa, that we will.”

University Point
May the 7th, 2288
12:21

If there were one aspect of dealing with the Institute no one could ever grow truly accustomed to, it would be their Coursers.

For Gerald Spencer, he supposed, looking back, the town’s first interaction with what they would come to recognise as Coursers came in 2277. After a summer of more than enough bad luck, between low crop yield and the increasing presence of violence by the town’s gang, he had become convinced things would only continue to deteriorate and, though the-then mayor had insisted otherwise, he had been right. By September, the ‘University Point Deathclaws,’ as they had named themselves, had beaten a woman to death after deciding she was an Institute synth. As it turned out, they had been right. I don’t blame her husband for murdering the entire gang in retaliation for it, never mind his own sins against our town as one of their members. Barbara Chesterfield did not deserve to be lynched, synth or not. Her death had not been the first either, yet it had been different. Why the Institute had treated it as different was something no one could agree on, yet, by November their town had been visited by a strange man who not only intruded on everyone’s day to day lives with one pointed and uncomfortable question after another but, by all accounts, dug up Barbara Chesterfield from her grave in the middle of the night before disappearing with her body and never returning. Come the end of the year, they had all decided to not speak of the matter again, with Barbara Chesterfield, her husband, the University Point Deathclaws, and the enigmatic agent long gone. After, an unspoken consensus of the November Man, as he had come to be called, being from the Institute had settled firmly over the town and cemented its fear of the Commonwealth’s bogeyman.

When things went on without incident in the years after the November Man’s arrival and departure, Gerald had allowed himself to forget about it, far from a superstitious man, and suspicion of the Institute’s existence at all returned to him. Jacqueline had continued to grow, taking up her mother’s love of books and her curious mind. By six, she had already properly disassembled half of what they had in their family store and put them back together perfectly. By ten, she had, of all the children in the town, changed from one of the smallest and most shy little girls and grown to be the most enthusiastic about learning, and her obsession with understanding the old books left behind before the War on mathematics and computers became one only her aunt, on the occasions she came by, ever diligent in broadening her niece’s mind, could truly understand and foster. And Josie gave up a life of comfort and security in Diamond City all to live here, with me, and raise a family. I wish you had forgiven her for it and spent more time with Jacqueline before she left too. By fourteen, Jacqueline had even found a few friends in town who were just as eager about learning as she was. That was when the explorations had begun. And, all too quickly, things suddenly went downhill again. Years of what he had come to disdainfully recall as something of wilful ignorance shattered in a matter of months. The Institute returned, not so subtly the second time, and a mob had begun to form, some of them more than willing to lynch a teenager despite having condemned the University Point Deathclaws for having lynched someone almost a decade prior.

Conrad Kellogg had made them miss the November Man, and, by a miracle, no one died.

But far too many people in the town were silently relieved to have Jacqueline gone, leaving for the Institute, for her father’s comfort.

Becoming the de facto liaison for the Institute in the town in the years since had only made it worse.

The appearance of what the town had come to know as a Courser never signalled anything good, but it was to the surprise of everyone, including Gerald himself, to see the Courser to be the escort of a woman they had all come to recognise well, though their opinions on her varied. For most of the town’s people, she was a somewhat cold but level headed and reasonable presence who escorted Jacqueline Spencer on her visits home to her father. Mayor Strickland seemed quite fond of her, almost fascinated by her though she was never eager for much talking and, while he had never heard her say it, suspected she was relieved he had gotten Perry Owens and Martha Cole to restrain themselves around her. It was Gerald Spencer, however, who had come to be the most relieved by her presence, not the least of which being because of his daughter’s fondness for the woman who mentored her. Yet, when he opened the door to his home to find her waiting for him alongside a Courser escort, every nerve in his body rose in alert. Stiffening, he waved them inside before quickly shutting and locking the door behind them. A bit seized in panic, Gerald ran to shut any and all open blinds, only managing to relax himself a little when he was sure they were not being spied on. Flicking on an additional light switch, he gestured towards the couch, waiting for her and her escort to sit down, still a bit shaken when they did.

“If I had known you would be visiting, Dr. Li, I would have prepared more than afternoon tea,” Gerald finally said, pouring himself a cup. “Do you need some? Or something to eat, perhaps?”

“I’m perfectly fine,” She said. “Though you really should be careful with that. You’re going to burn yourself.”

“I…oh, yes,” Gerald nearly dropped the still hot tea kettle but, once he managed to set it down, checked to ensure the stove was turned off before slowly walking over to sit down across from her. “My apologies, Dr. Li, you’ve merely taken me by great surprise. Especially with your…”

“X6-88,” The Courser said with a hint of amusem*nt to his voice. “Father sent me to ensure Dr. Li’s safety in light of everything that has happened here.”

Gerald swallowed hard. “I take it you are more than well aware of the…visit we had from the…damn it, what are they called –”

“Yes, we know about the Brotherhood Of Steel’s intrusion,” Madison said, raising a hand to silence him. “And we also know it has left all of you on edge, as, frankly, it should. They’re more than a bit relentless, and their willingness to step on anyone they view as in their way is not something to be taken lightly.”

“I take it, then…Jacqueline is alright, isn’t she?” Gerald breathed a sigh of relief when she nodded. “Thank God. I haven’t slept well, worrying about what could happen if she were here to have witnessed it, or, if they return, if she…”

“Your daughter isn’t going to be in any danger from them,” Madison eyed him closely, a bit uneasy. “As for yourself, the good news is Father considers you and your town to be a crucially important Institute asset. I suppose it’s also worth telling you he’s quite looking forward to hearing my and Dr. Watson and Dr. Filmore’s assessment of her doctoral thesis upon its completion next summer.”

Gerald smiled. “That’s my Jacqueline, always dedicated. It does me good knowing she’s surrounded by people who are able to understand her interests so well.”

“Miss Spencer is certainly a bright young woman,” X6-88 said mildly. “Your pride in her is well placed.”

“Yes,” Madison said shortly. “That said, I take it your…anxiety has to do with the presence of a Courser?”

“A…a little,” Gerald hesitantly admitted. “Is…is there any particular reason for its…presence?”

“Absolutely. After some back and forth, the Directorate have decided it is in the best interests of your town and our own for a Courser to be stationed here as protection indefinitely,” Madison replied. “In case the significance is lost on you, this is the first time the Institute has ever done anything like this. If nothing else, it should demonstrate the amount of care we have regarding your town and, of course, the respect for our arrangement with you and your daughter, who, might I add, is doing quite well.”

“I appreciate it. In…with everything that’s happened, will she still be returning home for her seventeenth birthday, at the end of the month?” Gerald smiled when she nodded. “Wonderful,” He nervously glanced at X6-88, who was staring intently at him. “While I wouldn’t normally be relieved to have a…one of your Coursers here, I…I don’t trust the Brotherhood.”

“As no one should,” Madison said, a hint of bitterness in her voice. “X6, for the sake of not making things more uncomfortable, please go speak to Mayor Strickland and take up your guard post.”

“Understood, ma’am,” The Courser took a last, brief cold look around. “I will have you relayed back to the Institute once you are done here.”

Madison said nothing, eyes narrowly watching the Courser until he was out of the apartment. After a minute of silence, she turned back to Gerald, who, though still anxiety riddled, had managed to relax a bit. In some ways, it could have been considered to be something of a routine. Quite unlike his daughter, Gerald Spencer was a paranoid man, always worried about something, and, from what she had heard, this paranoia had overtaken him after the first time he had encountered Conrad Kellogg. Where that encounter had emboldened his daughter, it had, apparently, caused him to succumb to paranoia and, though somewhat loathe to admit it, Madison found herself unable to fault him for it. Kellogg. If he weren’t so unrestrained, the Brotherhood would probably have had a field day with him as one of their best. As Gerald slowly began to calm himself and fully relax, Madison, finding herself unable to sit still, stood up and began to pace, the sound of her heels clicking against the floor becoming a steady rhythm. It was only when she caught a glimpse of herself in the mirror she paused, realising she had dressed for the meeting the same way she had when she had been the Director of Rivet City’s laboratories and science programmes. Turning back to Gerald, she crossed her arms, waiting for him to speak and, taking the hint, he did.

“As I said, I wouldn’t, under normal circ*mstances, be relieved to have one of those things here,” He finally said. “But there’s something about the Brotherhood that leaves me uneasy, and it’s not only because they attacked your usual synth guards. It’s the lack of apology they had for it, the fact they were angry when I told them to not return, and the contempt they had for me when I told them we want to be left alone. I have no doubt in my mind they intend to come back.”

“Which, hence the Courser, we would also like to avoid,” Madison frowned. “I never expected them to do something like this but, I suppose, given their obsession with hoarding technology, it could be viewed as inevitable.”

“Whether it is or not, you and your Institute showed me, our people, mercy and gave my daughter the life she always wanted,” Gerald shook his head. “I’ll be damned if I let anyone try to ruin my daughter’s life in any way, shape, or form. And, if I might be so honest, I suppose this will be better at keeping them away than if you did what you did with Diamond City.”

Madison raised an eyebrow. “What do you mean?”

“I know the mayor there is a synth, has been since April of 2284,” Gerald said, relieved when she did not interrupt him. “To be completely...honest, I probably shouldn’t have pressured Jacqueline into telling me so but, after reading the article written by the young woman up in Diamond City, I was curious.”

“You would do well to keep that information to yourself,” Madison warned him. “That’s not something anyone outside of the Institute is supposed to know about.”

“I have no intention of speaking about it with anyone,” Gerald reassured her. “Certainly not after Jacqueline scolded me for all but forcing her to tell me. I never thought she would be the one trying to protect me. In some ways…I wish I had been able to do more to protect her.”

“We all do the best we know how with what we have been given,” Madison sighed when his face fell. “I don’t know what you want from me, Gerald. You know full well the only other option is for you to give up your life here and join the Institute, and you’ve been quite indecisive about the idea since it was first suggested last year.”

“Because I can’t abandon these people, or the relationships I’ve built over the years,” Gerald said. “I’m sure you understand, having been an outsider to the Institute yourself.”

“Do you really think I ever wanted to stay out here?” Madison countered, forcing her voice to remain even. “No, I had nothing out here worth more to me than my peace of mind and access to the best and most advanced research facility in the country.”

“Seems a bit cynical,” Gerald said, though he fell silent at the way she narrowed her eyes. “I’m sorry, Dr. Li, this has all been incredibly emotional for me these last few years.”

“Understandably so,” Madison said, offering him a sympathetic glance. “But keep the offer in mind, if for no other reason than, though I don’t imagine she would be willing to admit it, knowing it would make your daughter happy.”

“Of course, though, if I may, why did you want so desperately to leave life above ground?” Gerald said, curiosity getting the better of him. “At least, you seem to have been desperate to from what little I’ve heard you say on the subject. Life here is just as fulfilling, just as –”

“With all due respect, Gerald, you have no idea what I went through, or the awful choices I had to make, no idea,” Madison sharply cut in. “It’s none of your concern, and you have no right to judge me.”

“No, I didn’t mean any judgement, I was only…” Gerald shook his head. “My apologies, Dr. Li. More than anything else, truly, I’m simply grateful you and your Institute have kept your promises, to me and Jacqueline, and are willing to defend us because I sincerely doubt we are able to defend ourselves, not against these Brotherhood Of Steel people.”

Chapter 17: Something Wrong

Chapter Text

The Commonwealth
May the 8th, 2288
18:22

Lost.

It had been storming for days and, while being able to come out from the shelter of an old, abandoned subway station was a relief, it was also disorienting.

There was still a heavy cover of mist and fog hanging over the Commonwealth, but the rain itself had stopped, and the radiation levels from the first few days of the storm had subsided enough to be safe. Taking another look at her Pip-Boy and its Geiger counter, Nora waited for the reading to finish and then, when it was done and it was clear the levels were still low and safe, adjusted her bag on her shoulders. Nearby, Cait was playing with Dogmeat, who stood up on his hind legs to brush his paws against her chest and reach up to affectionately lick her face. Seeing the former cage fighter laughing, Nora couldn’t help but smile. After just shy of a week stuck taking shelter in an abandoned subway station, being back in the fresh air was a relief. And it’s nothing like the Vault. Maybe Vault-Tec had been onto something, trying to build a Vault in Park Street Station. Never thought I’d see a subway station that way…but I guess that’s the case with just about everything. Jumping when she heard footsteps behind her, Nora reached for her gun but, seeing it was only Nick, tried to shake herself out. Dogmeat had been able to keep his nose on the few samples of Kellogg’s scent they still had. They hadn’t come into much resistance, though whether that were luck or simply because, it seemed, they were in the middle of nowhere was unclear.

And it seemed all the more likely, now they were back above ground, they were lost.

Petting Dogmeat around his ears one more time, Cait finally stood up, and whistled for the eager German shepherd to follow her. Letting out a happy bark, Dogmeat all but chased her over to where Nick and Nora were standing in wait. Then, he began circling Nick, Nora, and finally Cait around their legs again, his tail wagging happily. Something of a routine of his, Dogmeat waited to be presented with a scent to pursue. When Nick removed one of Kellogg’s half smoked cigars from one of the growing number of evidence bags for the friendly dog to sniff, Dogmeat perked up, ears and tail at attention. Satisfied he had the scent, Dogmeat barked and began off again, slowing when he didn’t hear them quickly following after him. He stared at Nick as he resealed and put the evidence bag back in one of his inner coat pockets, and sat up, waiting for the lawyer, the detective, and the former cage fighter to catch up to him. The second they were, he took off again in a swift fury. Quick on her feet, Cait only paused a moment to take off her jacket, the weather surprisingly warm for being just two days past the end of a major storm.

What was the most disconcerting to Nora, however, was the fact it was impossible to tell if any of the trees or rusted out cars or anything else had gotten there after the storm, or if they had been there well before the first lightning strikes reached the ground. What must all of it have looked like in the days just after the War ended? How much of it has stayed that way since? The War. The subject gnawed away at her a little bit each day, but the worst of it came when she remembered the War was far longer than most of the people in the two centuries since thought of it. It didn’t happen in a day. sh*t, the US and China had been at war, actively, since before I was born. Started with the US and Russia, then extended to the US, Russia, and China. That’s what we were always told in school, and every day started with a minute of silence to honour the fallen followed by the Pledge. Every single day. Was it really normal? Something in the back of her mind whispered it was, and another whispered it wasn’t. Yet what startled her was the realisation of just how many weapons she had on her body. Her steps faltering, Nora looked down at her hands, the weight of her .44 revolver pistol suddenly feeling almost painful. When she holstered it, she noticed the switchblade she had tied to her left boot, and –

“You alright?” Cait poked her in the arms with her fingers. “Tired? I’m with you. The floor of that subway station was more of sh*tehole than the Combat Zone, even in a sleeping bag.”

“I’m fine, I…” Nora trailed off and started laughing. “What the f*ck am I even…do you know how much trouble I would have been in if I had ever showed up to work with even one of these damn things? How the hell did I go from having to walk through metal detectors to enter any building to casually carrying multiple weapons at any given time?”

“Well, I certainly wouldn’t be allowed anywhere,” Nick dryly remarked. “Guess being trashed out here wasn’t so bad considering the alternative.”

“If you two are done morbidly reminiscing, that’d probably be for the best,” Cait said with a slight grimace. “Though I’m one to talk. Whole reason I like that one town on the lake where they test you to get in is because it kind of reminds me of home, just missing the abusive parents and the years of psychological torment.”

“Sorry, Cait I…” Nora shook her head. “It’s just…absurd, I suppose. Almost nothing is the same as it used to be and…I don’t know. There are just so many things that were, well, normal that don’t even exist anymore.”

“Don’t worry about it,” She said with a shrug. “Can’t blame you for needing to laugh about something that’d otherwise make you want to fall asleep and never wake up again.”

“It’s…it’s not quite like that,” Nora said, briefly pausing in hesitation. “It’s that I’m terrified of what could be happening to Shaun and Nate. I…I guess my fears of the unknown still exist even though the War is well since over.”

“Can only imagine,” Nick said grimly. “I’ll admit, part of why I started my detective agency was to get unknowns sorted, and there are a lot of ‘em in the Commonwealth. Going from a relatively predictable and good life to this must be one hell of a shock to the system.”

“Sounds like one hell of a slap in the face and a stab in chest,” Cait said, tugging off her jacket and wrapping it over Nora’s shoulders when she saw she was shivering a little. “If you need to rest, you can let me know. Stringing yourself out won’t do you no good…believe me, it ain’t something you can sustain, no matter how many drugs you take or alcohol you drink.”

“Thanks, Cait, but…” Nora said, startling, for a second, when she looked at the former cage fighter. “We’ve gotten this far, and…and we can’t stop now.”

“Then let’s get moving,” Cait replied with an encouraging smile. “Dogmeat!” She grinned when their sweet and enthusiastic tracker barked happily at her. “Take a whiff at what Nicky’s got. We don’t got time to waste.”

With another bark, Dogmeat sat upright, dutifully waiting to be presented with the scent once more. The creature stared at Nick intently as he reached into his pockets to remove one of Kellogg’s half smoked, San Francisco Sunlight cigars from one of their makeshift evidence bags. Once satisfied he had the scent again, Dogmeat let out a short bark and began to run off again with Nora no more than two or three paces behind him. Dropping in the cigar and resealing and concealing the evidence bag, Nick went after them, not far behind the lawyer and the dog or Cait, whom herself was just a foot or so behind Nora. Coming up a bridge, the lawyer, the former cage fighter, and the detective drew their weapons, just in case raiders were waiting to ambush anyone trying to cross. To their surprise, all was quiet except for the wind and the sound of a few raindrops bouncing off the pavement and long since deserted cars. Mist. The mist was, in some ways, a relief, a significant break from the nasty storm they had taken shelter from. Mist was manageable; a series of violent thunderstorms were not. It was when they saw the bodies littered around them the farther down the bridge they went, however, which made the mist unsettling; a hazy veil.

As was unfortunately predictable, many of the bodies were those of feral ghouls, all in varying states of decomposition. Moving as quickly as they could while not passing and overwhelming Dogmeat, the lawyer, the former cage fighter, and the detective tried not to focus on the scent. The scent of death. The bodies weren’t just of feral ghouls. Some were of seemingly ordinary people whose lives had been ended in one way or another. One or two of the bodies belonged to raiders. The second they finished crossing the bridge, Nick took one look back to ensure they weren’t, by chance, being followed. Letting out a sigh of relief upon finding them still to be all but completely alone, he wasted no time catching back up to Cait, Nora, and Dogmeat. Paranoia comes out every so often in this job. Kind of inevitable. Still, something… Yanked back from his thoughts, Nick suddenly slowed his steps when he heard Dogmeat starting to growl, his face close to the ground and seemingly having picked up something. Sharing a knowing look with Nora and Cait, the three of them began to move as quietly and slowly as possible, following after the increasingly agitated Dogmeat until, to their surprise, an old town seemed to reveal itself from the mist.

Dogmeat began barking, and growled at something flying in front of him on the wind.

That was when the smell snatched them again.

Feeling a little sick, Nora tried to focus on their surroundings and following Dogmeat rather than the smell. Death. The smell of death was in the air and worse than before. It’s probably just the wind and the mist…the bridge isn’t that far away. It has to be contributing to it…doesn’t it? Logic, usually her friend, did not seem to be a comfort, and Nora kept her hands wrapped around her revolver, her heart rate spiking again. Though not one to admit to discomfort, Cait, too, found herself unsettled and struggling not to gag as she, Nora, and Nick followed Dogmeat into the old town. Spent over three years living at the Combat Zone, and even the smell of puke and piss there ain’t nearly as bad as this. Not like I haven’t smelled dead people before. Why the hell is it… Looking up, Cait started swearing under her breath when she realised she had paused, standing right under a burnt out and broken street lamp with a few severed heads hanging down from it. sh*te. It’s the blood. All these years and all the damned beatings, fights, and drugs, and I still can’t stand the smell of blood. Smells like a curling iron on the tongue, real nasty… More unsettled than she liked, Cait all but darted over to where Nora and Nick were stood, staring at the shattered and dismembered remains of a robot, Dogmeat still growling at their surroundings.

“Oh, where’s the off switch on this bloody thing?” Cait said, grimacing at the ear piercing metallic wails and creaks. “And what the f*ck even happened here?”

“A slaughter,” Nick said, his voice darkening. “I don’t know if it was all him, but some of this looks like Kellogg’s work. See the execution style head wounds and the straight razor on a few of the throats of the people left over there? He’s used that method before. Shoots them, and then slits their throats to ensure they don’t survive. I had a case about a decade ago where I had a run in with the man. I’d been hired to find out what happened to a woman down near the old University Of Massachusetts, except it wasn’t a normal case. It was about finding out what happened to her after she died.”

Cait frowned. “The hell’s that got to do with Kellogg?”

“I had a run in with him in just about one or two towns over in the old Quincy area,” Nick grimly replied. “I’d gotten a lead suggesting maybe the gunners had been involved, and they were mostly holed up in that area. The lead didn’t pan out, but I ran into him, asked him a few questions. Thought he might be one of them, to be honest, but he wasn’t one for chatting. I kept an eye on him for a few days. Never did find out why he was doing it, but he took out several of the best gunners in the town at the time just like this.”

“That’s comforting,” Cait muttered. “What a skilled and upstanding person.”

“If there’s any good in Kellogg, you’d be hard pressed to find it,” Nick agreed. “But you see that robot?” He said, gesturing towards the still loud though seemingly no longer functional machine. “Those are the remains of an assaultron, something gunners have, for God knows to what end, gotten into rewiring for their uses. It wouldn’t surprise me if Kellogg’s been bumping some of them off…although there don't seem to be a whole lot of their bodies here.”

“Then…who were these people?” Nora said, warily looking around. She jumped when Dogmeat began barking again and turned back, staring down at the garbled electronic whirring and nonsense coming out of the assaultron. “God damn it!”

Letting out a frustrated sigh, and swearing, Nora suddenly started kicking at the assaultron head until, after about a minute or two, she managed to kick it off, albeit with a slightly pained cry when she slipped and fell over. Nick took in a sharp breath, eyeing her worriedly, before quickly coming over to help her back onto her feet.

“Hey?” Nick said gently. “You alright?”

“I’m fine,” She muttered, dusting herself off. “Just frustrated,” She took another look at their surroundings. “So, Kellogg probably killed an entire town, and left that damn thing to just –”

“Nora,” Nick calmly began, taking a small step back when he saw the way she was shaking. “I know this is a lot, and –”

“Let her blow off steam, Nicky,” Cait said, waving a hand before reassuringly draping an arm over the woman’s shoulders. “I’m going to be honest, that thing was going to drive me completely mad. Just the sound grates on the nerves. Part of why I never liked those pre-War military gadgets. Well, that and a lot of ‘em being too bloody complicated for me to figure out.”

Nora raised an eyebrow. “When did you try to do that?”

“A few years ago after I won a bet against some raiders. Got me the password to some old police site,” Cait said with a shrug. “The weapons were cool, and they had a surprisingly vast assortment of chems in there but some of the sh*te they left behind was impossible to figure out how to use. Fighting some of ‘em was fun, though.”

“Your love of danger aside, Cait, I don’t think that’s…” Nick shook his head. “Nora, please,” He said when he met her eyes. “You’ve been through a lot, even in just the last week alone. If you need to rest, then please rest.”

“I’m fine, really, Nick, I am,” She said, though her voice wavered. “We’re going to lose the light soon…let’s just keep going. I…I don’t think I can stand to stay here. It…it’s…there’s something not right here. And I…I don’t want us to stick around to find out what it is.”

Goodneighbour
May the 9th, 2288
23:41

“MacCready! I haven’t seen you in a while…then again, was that a choice to ensure you keep an air of mystery around yourself?”

A bit to her surprise though much more of a relief than she would go on the record for, Daisy Kathleen Calderwall gave the man she had grown to know well a hint of a smile when he started laughing. Having been a long day at the shop with an unusually high number of caravans coming in and out of Goodneighbour, seeing a familiar, and, more to the point, trustworthy face was nice. Some of those people who came through here acted more like soldiers than mercenaries, even more so than those gunner assholes. Wonder who took a piss in their tea for them to be that way. At least they didn’t start screaming when they saw I’m a ghoul. I’ll take disgusted looks over outright insults any day of the week. Almost in a tired daze, she reached up to grab the cleaning solution and a clean rag from one of the shelves above her. Even with the number of people coming in and out of the town having significantly dropped off with nightfall, something about the morning still didn’t sit right with her. Supposing it had more to do with exhaustion than anything else, she began wiping down the counters as usual. Routine. The ways some of the people coming in and out in the morning acted were outside the routine. Finally satisfied with giving herself an explanation, she glanced up at the former gunner with a mischievous glint in her eyes.

“Come to think of it, you probably aren’t trying to keep an air of mystery around yourself,” Daisy said with a chuckle. “You haven’t been avoiding me, have you?”

“Now, hey,” He said, putting his hands up in mock surrender. “How could I stay away from someone as cute as you, Daisy?”

“You’re a lousy liar, Bobby,” She rolled her eyes, albeit smiling. “But I’ll just play stupid and pretend I don’t know that. And, before you ask, your boy is alright. Duncan is already asleep, has been for a few hours, actually, and I applied the ointment the pretty doctor with the soft Irish accent told you to use. Seems to be helping, a few of the boils aren’t swelling as much as the usually do, but he’s got some on his back again.”

“But he’s okay, right?” MacCready let out a sigh of relief when she nodded. “Thank God. And…thanks for doing that. I don’t think I can thank you enough for always watching…taking care of him even when I…when I can’t.”

“Don’t worry about it,” She sent him a pointed look. “I know you think I’m talking crazy sometimes, but, I swear, you remind me of my son more and more every day. You both even served in the army…well, I suppose for you it was a different kind of army.”

He frowned. “Speaking of, you haven’t been hassled by any of those guys recently, have you?”

“Haven’t seen any of them in weeks,” Daisy shrugged. “My bet’s Hanco*ck scared ‘em off. Either him or Fahrenheit did it. She’s been on a power trip lately. Saw her and No Nose brawl it out the other night. Apparently, No Nose is pissed at her for ‘interfering’ in one of her operations and, while No Nose might not be the biggest or scariest opponent, I’d put real hard money on Fahrenheit being able to beat just about everyone in this town in a fight and definitely not just No Nose. And with Hanco*ck’s support? No, you ain’t got a thing to worry about from those guys.”

“Hope it lasts, but it probably won’t,” MacCready paused, biting back the urge to say something worse. I need to stop doing this! How am I supposed to keep my promise to Duncan that I’ll – “It’s going to have to be a long time before I stop thinking those guys are going to find some way to put a bullet in my back, or potentially worse…although I’d really rather not find out what worse from them could be.”

“Don’t think anyone does, but I don’t think you’ve got to be scared of ‘em,” Daisy said, spraying down the counters a second time. “You should be more scared of drunk people who puke on your shoes.”

“Drunk people who puke on your shoes? When did that happen?”

Daisy smirked to herself when she saw the woman who had spoken step into her shop, not making an effort to hide it when she saw MacCready perk up a little when he saw her.

“Usually happens every other day,” Daisy gestured to a trash bin on the other side of the room. “I take that out every morning at the same time, Annette, and, sure enough, just about every other day I’ve got to bin a pair of cheap shoes that have been puked on one too many times.”

Annette raised an eyebrow. “Hopefully you haven’t had to get rid of a lot recently.”

“Thankfully, I’ve been pretty lucky this year so far. Only had to toss eight pairs, which is damn near a prize worthy streak,” She replied, her nose wrinkling at the memory. “Worst one was a few years back, had a lady come in completely drunk and high out of her damn mind. She tried to buy some food, but quickly lost her appetite when she kicked whatever was in her system onto my shoes. Ended up getting some ibuprofen and water instead and nursed a real hell of a hangover in the Rexford.”

“Some of the stories you and Hanco*ck have about drunk people are terrifying,” MacCready said, trying not to laugh. “Although his are usually…more graphic.”

“Everything Hanco*ck says is more graphic, the man doesn’t have a filter,” She said, smiling when she saw he was holding one of Annette’s hands. “But enough of that. How’s the job in Diamond City going? You need to pick up more supplies?”

“Probably tomorrow,” MacCready said, tucking his hat under his arm and running his free hand through his hair. “If you want to close up early, it can wait. Besides, like I said I…I really can’t thank you enough for taking care of Duncan, even with this job being…well, closer than usual.”

“Always a pleasure,” Daisy said, following them out to turn off the light on her store’s open sign. “You kids have fun, and, I’m sure, Duncan will be happy to see you tomorrow before you head back to Diamond City.”

Locking the door to the store, Daisy waited a minute to watch the two of them until they disappeared around the corner towards downtown. Seeing he was still holding Annette’s hand, she smiled. It’s almost like getting to watch Liam grow up again…and getting to see him have experiences he never did. Goddamn the Reds, just had to take both his father and him from me. For all the bitterness from the War and the life before, though, there was something special and comforting in seeing the man whom she had come to view as just about her son begin to open up again. Been over two years since he stepped through that gate, kid in his arms and seeming so deflated. No wonder he turned to the gunners…they were probably the best shot he had in making caps, at least then. What she didn’t (and more to the point, couldn’t) see, however, was the peculiar man wearing sunglasses at night who had begun to follow after MacCready. Albeit suddenly seized by paranoia, the former gunner let go of Annette’s hand and turned around, scowling when he and the man met each other’s eyes. With a mutual look of disdain, the peculiar man pulled down his sunglasses, giving his eyes a moment to adjust to the almost too bright streetlights.

“Was hoping you’d left here, guess I was wrong,” He said when the former gunner scowled at him. “Still killing people for caps, MacCready?”

“I don’t know,” He irritably replied, putting his hat back on and crossing his arms. “You still pretending to be anyone but yourself, Deacon?”

“I don’t have anything to hide,” Deacon said smoothly, though he took a small step back when he noticed the well dressed, bespectacled woman beside MacCready was eyeing him closely with a haughty way of carrying herself and very long hair tied up in several braids atop her head. “But,” He said, recomposing himself before sauntering towards the Memory Den. “I get the feeling you very much do.”

MacCready sighed. “Have never been able to put a finger on it,” He said, biting back the urge to swear as Deacon disappeared inside the Memory Den. “But there’s something about him that gets under my skin. He spends an awful lot of time here – and in there, honestly – for someone who claims to be both broke and who claims he doesn't like this town.”

“He’s certainly shifty,” Annette said, frowning. “You called him Deacon? That’s his name?”

MacCready nodded, a bit surprised. “Yeah…why?”

“I’ve seen him before,” She said, looking suspiciously towards the Memory Den. “Though I don’t like thinking about it, I did have a couple of run ins with him a few months ago. He was one of the people who got me into that damned Compound…but he sure as hell didn’t look quite like that.”

“He didn’t?” MacCready paused. “Come to think of it, he seems to change something about his appearance at least once every other month. Not sure why, though, and I’m not sure I want to.”

“I doubt either of us want to know,” Annette agreed, a dark edge slipping into her voice. “But that does prove me right about one thing: a certain ‘Brian’ with long blonde hair doesn’t really exist. If that’s true, and he’s as skilled a liar as I suspect, then I have some serious questions about why he was so eager to get me into that damned Compound in the first place. And none of them have to do with him and the caravan master with him wanting to free only one girl held captive there.”

Capital Wasteland
May the 10th, 2288
10:15

“The data on this thing has been a bitch and a half to decrypt, but I’ve finally got it. Hopefully the information on it is still relatively intact.”

Proctor Elisabeth Mischelle Ingram frowned at the screen of the computer terminal she was sat in front of, the chip she had retrieved from the executed synth in one hand and the computer mouse in the other. Fingers running back and forth on the scroll wheel, she watched as the computer terminal began the slow process of downloading the data from the chip. Pacing nearby, Elder Arthur Jonathan Maxson paused every so often to ensure the retrieval of information was continuing to go smoothly, while Proctor Marshall Walter Quinlan stood just behind Ingram as she worked, this time in her wheelchair rather than her power armour. Eyes narrowing as the download began to slow, Ingram checked to ensure the cable connecting the chip to the computer terminal was still secure. Satisfied to find it was, she turned back to watching the screen. The sheer amount of data on the chip alone was head spinning, with nearly nine hundred yottabytes. And, with any luck, most of if not all of the data will be uncorrupted with the decryption process having gone relatively smoothly, if tediously. Prepared to troubleshoot if the process of downloading such a massive amount of information caused the computer terminal to crash, Quinlan kept a critical eye on the screen and the system. When the download began to speed up again, both he and Ingram let out a sigh of relief, hoping the process would thus conclude soon and enable them to access the data.

“He was hiding out here, under our noses, for a little over a decade,” Ingram noted, shaking her head. “To think we could have been working on the process of decrypting and analysing this information for years but instead were fooled is infuriating.”

“They won’t manage it again,” Maxson said, turning to take a look over the map of the Commonwealth on one of the walls in the Citadel’s Strategic Command. “And, ideally, we’ll be able to get a better sense of where the Institute may be located from the information stored on that chip.”

“If not that, we should at least get a decent understanding of how their damned synths work,” Ingram said, checking again to ensure the chip was still securely connected to the computer terminal. “Knowing how these things work could be a crucial step to being able to reliably identify them.”

“Speaking of which, did you receive and read up on Paladin Danse’s report on the strange…town of sorts Scribe Haylen and Knight Rhys investigated?” Quinlan waited until she nodded to continue. “It’s quite the shame that lead didn’t pan out. If we had been able to procure their research on and perfect their methods of synth identification, we could have had a marked advantage entering the Commonwealth, one the Institute certainly couldn’t anticipate.”

“Having that information would be nice,” Ingram agreed. “But we’ve got to work with what we’ve got. All things considered, what we have should be pretty damn solid. I sincerely doubt the Institute will know about this, either, and certainly not before we arrive in the Commonwealth. We did eliminate their points of contact here, after all.”

“Their execution couldn’t have come soon enough,” Maxson said, a bit of anger seeping into his voice. “I cannot, however, believe their arrogance. It’s outrageous they thought we would not only let them go but allow them to continue playing God.”

“Indeed,” Quinlan said, flipping through his notes. “As Proctor Ingram said, for a supposed genius and his allegedly ‘perfect’ machine, they were quite shortsighted or, more bluntly, stupid.”

“Arrogance is blinding,” Ingram swore under her breath when the download began slowing a second time. “Damn it, don’t –”

“Give it a minute to steady out,” Quinlan said, adjusting his glasses as he leaned forward to get a better look at the screen. “Around seventy four percent of the data has been downloaded. If the data were going to overload and crash the computer terminal’s systems, it likely would have done so already.”

“Hope you’re right,” Ingram said darkly. “Because we need this, and we didn’t get nearly enough information out of them to have a strong enough understanding of the Institute and, specifically, their technology. This technology alone is beyond anything we’ve ever seen.”

“Even the Enclave’s technology wasn’t as advanced,” Quinlan noted. “Granted, they were rather close to it, but it’s unlikely they would have been able to construct something anywhere near to these 'synths.'”

“I’m surprised the Institute can construct machines this advanced,” Ingram said, her fingers tapping lightly between the left and right buttons of the computer mouse before settling on running back and forth on its scroll wheel again. “Looks like we’re almost there.”

“Eight seven percent,” Quinlan pulled a chair over and sat down beside her. “Once the download completes, will the data be accessible to the rest of Brotherhood leadership on multiple computer terminals?”

“It’ll be accessible on any computer terminal in the Citadel if the user has clearance to see and review anything at this level of classified material,” Ingram corrected. “That said, I’ll set the data to be locked so it will be accessible only to those with clearance to access top secret classified information, and no one but myself, you, Proctor Teagan, Knight Captain Cade, Lancer Captain Kells, and, of course, Elder Maxson have that level of clearance and are on the need to know list for this particular set of 1.4(e) top secret data.”

“Good. Unfortunately, there is a serious threat of espionage with or without Zimmer and his abomination of a machine around to talk,” Maxson said, disgusted at the thought. “I would be inclined to add a 1.4(c) categorisation to this information too, considering how we obtained it in the first place.”

“Absolutely, I’ll add the categorisations to the data when I go through and organise the specific information,” Quinlan glanced between his notes and the screen. “Ninety two percent. Mischelle, I take it you’ll be writing a short report on the information overall?”

“I will,” She said. “You’ll be going through the data and organising it into concise categories?”

“Absolutely,” Quinlan said, writing down a few additional notes. “I’ll also prepare a report of what we ought to forward to Paladin Danse and his team. It’s important we share some information with them. I trust you have seen the report on the 'synths' recovered by Scribe Haylen and Knight Rhys?”

“Yes,” Ingram confirmed, letting out a sigh of relief when the computer terminal indicated the download had finished. “Though the synths they came into contact with and brought back pieces of were significantly less developed than this one.”

“Unsurprising. I doubt the Institute would want to risk showing their full hand,” Maxson said, stepping over towards where the Proctors were at the computer terminal. “How much of the data is currently on the screen?”

“Just the navigation. Each of these appears to be a folder, though this one, I suspect, is specific to this synth,” Ingram said, driving the cursor on the screen towards the top left, circling a set of letters and numbers. “If I’m correct, it seems the Institute uses a similar identification system to us, though theirs appears to be more simplistic. One alphabetical character followed by three numbers, each ranging from one to nine. Apparently this one – didn’t he call it Armitage? – is S3-47.”

“Fascinating. Theoretically, knowing this is how they register each of their synths could make it easier to decrypt their chips if we are able to procure another dead synth of this same level of development,” Quinlan said, curiosity rising in his voice. “If this turns out to be a fully developed registration system by the Institute, running each chip through a matrix to see which alphabetical character and set of three numerical characters ‘unlocks’ – for lack of a better phrase – the chip could save us quite a bit of time and consternation.”

“I’ll let you work on creating a potential matrix for it, then, at your discretion,” Maxson told him. “Is there anything else I should know right now?”

“Just an observation,” Ingram replied, opening one of the folders. “It’ll need to be looked into more, but there seems to be a connexion between the sequencing pattern of the chip and the ability to connect to, understand, and respond to harmonic frequencies, though why this type of chip would need to be able to do any of that is beyond me.”

“Do they appear necessary for simulating cognition?” Quinlan said, beginning to flip through his notes again. “If I recall, Zimmer mentioned the synths have several functions tied into their chip, some of which are meant only to simulate benign human actions such as breathing while others are part of what gives them disturbingly realistic responses to stimuli.”

“We’ll have to see what you and the few Scribes you assign to assist you make of it, but I think it could be more than that,” Ingram said, opening one of the folders of data. “I could see there being a reason for it if the synths need to connect to the Institute’s mainframe for one reason or another. Actually, that could be an ideal scenario for us, because it could give us insight into what may be in there and how to identify it and, hopefully, hack into it.”

“If not the mainframe, there could be a different connexion point they attach the tracking of their synths to,” Quinlan said, picking up his pen again. “As Zimmer was, unfortunately, quite uncooperative in providing the location of the Institute and how they get their synths to the surface, knowing where they monitor synth activities from could be useful in finding the Institute itself. I had been hoping this synth would be willing to divulge that but, as it were, it also refused to cooperate.”

“Whatever the case, when the analysis is finished, you need to prepare an update for Paladin Danse and his team,” Maxson ordered. “The sooner that can be done, the better, especially considering some of the rather concerning details in his last report.”

“Regarding the other town Scribe Haylen and Knight Rhys came across?” Quinlan frowned. “Considering both the town’s absurd reaction to them taking care of the…problem they were having with synths there and the story regarding the Institute kidnapping a young girl, of course we'll update Danse and his team. What they had to tell, certainly, was disturbing to learn about.”

“Precisely,” Maxson shook his head. “That incident is, I’m sure, far from the first time the Institute has tried to control a location by force with their machines, and, as we are to stop them, the more we know about their movements – and certainly until we know where the Institute is truly located – the better.”

The Institute
May the 11th, 2288
18:26

“Here is the report you requested directly from X6-88 regarding the movements of Conrad Kellogg. If you have any further questions, I will be pleased to answer them or, if necessary, pass them on to X6-88 myself in order to maintain the utmost discretion and secrecy in this matter.”

With not another word spoken, upon setting down the unusually large file on the table between Mister Nate and Father, the Courser turned back and left the Director’s quarters, closing the doors again upon exiting. A bit surprised, Nathaniel Jonathan Norwich reached over and picked up the file. He raised an eyebrow when he began to page through it, soon handing it over to his son. When even was the last time Kellogg felt the need to request additional ground support? He’s typically quite self sufficient. Then again, this could prove beneficial for… Hearing commotion down below from the open doors separating the first level of the Director’s quarters from the balcony, he stood up and stepped out onto it, briefly surprised to see some of the eighth years down below, in one of the Institute’s many concourses, pretending to fight, their classmates and friends cheering them on. He laughed, for a moment, before stepping back inside and closing the doors out to the balcony to insulate them from the noise. Then, he sat down again, surprised when his son began quickly flipping through the file. When he found what he had been looking for, however, and handed the page over, any semblance of surprise or confusion left his father.

“If I recall correctly, X6-88 has continued to be our direct liaison regarding mother’s movements despite being posted at University Point for the time being,” Shaun smiled when his father nodded. “In that case, it seems possible she may come into contact with Kellogg before he leaves the Fort Hagen area.”

“That’s my hope,” Nate replied. “X6 is quite reliable, and I sincerely doubt he would inform us about her movements drawing closer to Fort Hagen if that were not the case. Although, I’ll admit, I’m rather surprised by the descriptions of the people she’s apparently travelling with.”

“I am as well,” Shaun said, almost amused. “Of all the things she could have chosen to do, it seems near certain she’s travelling with that well out of date synth from Diamond City. At least, that’s what both the description of the supposed ‘man’ she was with from X6 suggested and M7-62’s note of the synth in question having left the city with her.”

“I can’t fathom why she would choose to travel with it either,” Nate said, unsettled at the notion. “That model and its accompanying prototype were two of the biggest failures in bridging the second generation synth programme into the current third generation synth programme. Didn’t the memories of a pre-War police officer end up being the memories that stuck in that model? If I recall correctly, the other prototype was either unresponsive to attempts to implant memories as a forebearer to independent personality development or entirely inoperative.”

“According to the records regarding the end of the second generation synth programme, the other prototype was even more of a failure than the one currently residing in Diamond City and calling itself ‘Nick Valentine.’ As a result, that approach was completely abandoned as the second generation synth programme continued to fluctuate before ending, of course, in 2227,” Shaun said, closing the file and setting it aside. “Nick Valentine was the name of the pre-War police officer whose memories were used to form its base personality. The synth was designated as N1-33, but, yes, was a failure like its accompanying prototype and, frankly, the rest of the second generation synth programme.”

Nate considered that. “I suppose it’s unsurprising, then, after the unit was discarded, it convinced itself it wasn’t a machine at all.”

“Neither of the units were discarded,” Shaun corrected, a hint of irritation slipping into his voice. “The Director at the time did not investigate the matter after the then heads of Robotics and Advanced Systems claimed both synths escaped the Institute before they could be scrapped. Scrapping the units was the original plan, but, because the synths escaped, it did not happen. My understanding of the matter is N1-33 did not show up on the Institute’s records after the escape in early 2150 until it was identified as living in Diamond City about fifty years later, with the escape itself having been nearly eighty years before either of us were rescued by the Institute and the third generation synth programme began.”

“For as ruthless as both Directors before you could be, they were quite resourceful,” Nate paused before shaking his head. “Director Jamison made the right decision to have us released and brought to the Institute, but I still cannot fathom why he didn’t include your mother in it. I, of course, never had much of an opportunity to speak with him as he passed shortly after we were brought here, but his successor was surprisingly open on the subject. Her faults aside, Director Leavitt was at least honest and didn’t attempt to obfuscate information.”

“She was quite brilliant,” Shaun agreed. “I quite admired her, as you know, though I don’t think I’ll ever get past the shock I felt when she appointed me as Director when I was only forty. I understand, of course, she was quite ill by then, but I was still stunned by the appointment.”

“You’ve done incredibly well and rose to the task. I couldn’t be more proud, and I’m sure your mother will feel the same,” Nate said, though his face quickly fell. “Speaking of…how are you feeling? I know the new treatment programme has been, in some ways, more draining than the previous.”

“Needing less blood draws is, in all honesty, the best part of it,” Shaun sighed. “I have been feeling, overall, better. Certainly less exhausted than I have the last few months. Still, the physical weakness has been infuriating. Not being able to comfortably stand for more than half an hour, for instance, is more than aggravating but better than the feeling of perpetual exhaustion from the last round of treatments.”

“I wish there were more I could do,” Nate said morosely. “You’re my son. It may be irrational, but I still feel I should be able to do more, especially having raised you as, for all intents and purposes, a single parent.”

“Having you to talk to and as a supportive parent is enough,” Shaun calmly told him. “You’ve also been an invaluable advisor since I was appointed Director. My health struggles are not your fault, father. Let’s not ruminate on what can’t be helped. As you said, X6 is reliable and, between his direct reports to us and the official information out of the SRB on Kellogg, mother is likely to find Kellogg soon. That will, I’m sure, put her on the right path to finding us.”

“It will, and her finding us on her own will mitigate the shock of everything that’s happened since the War,” Nate sighed. “Simply bringing her here and forcing her to accept everything all at once would be wrong. As much as I dislike this waiting game, it’s necessary, and it's what will be best for her. Giving her time to process everything will, I’m sure, alleviate some of the pain and trauma she’s inevitably going to have to reckon with.”

“Yes, she needs time,” Shaun said, pausing a moment in thought. “Although I can’t say I’m not worried about her. From all you’ve told me about her over the years, she’s quite compassionate, and, knowing she’s travelling with a failed prototype who thinks it’s a pre-War police officer concerns me.”

“I feel the same, but it can’t be helped,” Nate said with a frown. “I’m concerned, too, about how her opinion of the Institute may be warped by the outside, not only because she’s travelling with that…prototype but because of how much of the outside views us, no doubt because of, at the very least, the Broken Mask Incident. I would be shocked if she hasn’t heard of it, considering she’s spent at least some time in Diamond City. And then, of course, there’s Kellogg.”

“I doubt she’ll trust him to tell the truth about the Institute,” Shaun replied. “He’s also the best lure we have, and one she, clearly, is closely hunting. Beyond that, with everything he has done to not only the Commonwealth but to our family, her finding him will allow her, and us, to have some amount of revenge.”

“Having Kellogg gone will certainly be a relief,” Nate mused. “Still, I’m concerned by her choice of…company. Beyond the failed prototype, the woman she’s travelling with, from what X6 told us, is a junkie with quite the attitude problem.”

“True, though I’m not worried about her judgement. Rather, it seems her choice in companions in this matter is a pragmatic one,” Shaun hesitated. “But I understand what you’re feeling. The last thing I want is for the Commonwealth to corrupt her just as it has so much.”

“Perhaps, then, we should be more concerned not about her choice in individual company but about certain…shall we say groups of people who would want to take advantage of her and her compassion for others,” Nate said, running a hand through his hair. “With the Brotherhood Of Steel’s increasing presence in the Commonwealth and the knowledge they intend to arrive in full force, there’s a chance she could come into contact with them. They without question would warp her understanding of the Institute, and I could say the same about the Railroad.”

“Should that happen, I’m sure we’ll find a way to address it,” Shaun said before chuckling a little. “And, regardless, I trust your judgement of her. Even if she comes into contact with those…organisations, I’m quite sure she’ll see through them and their machinations to manipulate her.”

Diamond City
May the 13th, 2288
13:31

“So,” Nat said, hopping down from the lower roof of her sister’s office with a mischievous glint in her eyes when she saw her sister. “We’re going to go right up there and wring information out Geneva like a towel, right?”

Piper rolled her eyes at her little sister but, nevertheless, affectionately ruffled her hair. Nat grinned when she saw who her sister was with, and winked at Lissy who gave her a short nod, their code of sorts telling each other they were thinking the same thing. Piper’s going to let Geneva really have it today if she gets under her skin. When her older sister finally let her go, the thirteen year old took the keys from her and locked up the office. The second the doors clicked locked, Nat tossed the keys at her sister but missed, and the keys flew over her head, thankfully caught by MacCready who teasingly pulled the keys away from Piper when she went to take them back before relenting and handing them to her. Slipping them back into one of her coat pockets, Piper half heartedly scowled at the former gunner before turning back to her sister and waving her to follow her only to suddenly jump in front of and push her back when a poorly aimed firework went off flying in their direction. Though her sister began swearing under her breath, more startled than she would ever care to admit, Nat started laughing.

“That,” She declared. “Was f*cking awesome!”

“Don’t get any ideas,” Piper told her. “I’d rather not have the jail cell next to mine become called the ‘Natalie suite.’”

Nat pouted. “I don’t know, has a nice ring to it.”

“No, it really doesn’t,” Lissy said, adjusting her glasses. “The last thing you want, Nat, is to be spending time in the lockup with your sister.”

“See?” Piper said pointedly. “It’s not just me who thinks you joining me as one of Diamond City’s regular arrestees would be a bad idea.”

“I still can’t believe how notorious your arrests have become,” MacCready remarked, laughing when she scowled at him. “What? Still mad about Hanco*ck telling you he thinks –”

“Hanco*ck thinks anything that pisses off McDonough is great, regardless of what it is,” She said though she laughed a little. “Besides, you really want to go there?” She teased. “You know, considering how awkward you’ve been when talking about the sweet woman you’re ‘working’ with? Also,” She said, more seriously. “Is she alright? I was surprised she didn’t come with you today.”

“Annette’s staying with Duncan, alongside Daisy, since she’s a doctor and Daisy has the shop to run, not just…” He sighed, jamming his hands into his coat pockets. “He’s got a bad cold and…well…”

“He’ll be okay,” Piper gently told him before waving her sister back over to them. “That why you’re just going to be here for the day? I’m happy to pay you for the week early, you know.”

“Especially knowing how much you worry about him,” Lissy added. “Besides, what are old childhood friends for?”

“I…” He managed a half smile, looking between her and Piper. “Fair enough. But don’t get me wrong, I’m still annoyed Piper never brought you up before.”

“Oh, come on,” Piper groaned. “How many long conversations have we ever had before recently? I’m pretty sure there were only a handful, and on the times we did run into each other in Goodneighbour, we mostly talked about weapons or the Publick. I didn’t even know you had a kid until recently!”

Nat snickered. “As long as the three of you cause trouble for McDonough, I don’t care how you guys first met. Making him squirm and realise he’s not as powerful as he thinks he is makes you guys good to me.”

“If you don’t keep an eye on her, she will probably become your alternate in the lockup,” MacCready said, elbowing Piper. “Might want to watch out for that.”

“Yeah, yeah,” Piper waved a hand dismissively as she, Lissy, Nat, and MacCready stepped onto the lift up to the mayor’s office. “Either way,” She said, leaning back against the railing a little. “You’re a good person, and I know, at the end of the day, you’re just trying to take care of your son. So, please, remember all this is flexible and I am more than happy to pay you early. Besides, I’m sure you want to spend more time with him and your lady friend.”

“Well, I –” MacCready jumped, startled when the lift began lurching a little. “Are we entirely sure this thing is safe?”

“It is if you’re not drunk,” Nat happily informed him. “Solomon tried to be a gymnast getting off it about a year or so ago but didn’t realise just how far off the ground he was before he tried to vault his way down. He ended up with a concussion and needed his nose and jaw reset by Dr. Sun, who got really angry about Solomon brushing it off as not a big deal just because he had been high on jet and drunk on some questionable looking liquor he found in the trash.”

“He did all that on a dare,” Piper added. “Not saying it was a good idea, but it was a pretty good marketing stunt. Business was booming for him nearly six months after the incident.”

“That makes me feel a lot better,” MacCready said dryly, more relieved than he was willing to admit when the lift reached the top and they were able to step out and into the reception area. “Still don’t trust that thing to be safe, though.”

“Oh, joy,” Geneva narrowed her eyes upon hearing the commotion and pursed her lips when she saw him, Piper, Nat, and Lissy. “I see Piper’s taste in friends hasn’t improved at all.”

“Afraid of a little trouble, Geneva?” Piper replied with an equally disdainful look at the secretary. “Am I still crowding the reception area?”

“You always are,” Geneva said, setting her book down with a harsh thud. “And, if you’re here to once again attempt to hassle the mayor’s courier, I’m afraid you’re too late. He came and left early this morning,” She turned to MacCready. “You need something, honey? Housing permit? A respectable job?”

“A respectable job?” He rolled his eyes. “If that means doing just about nothing for barely any caps, you’ve definitely got the wrong guy.”

“Well, considering the mayor is in no mood to talk about any more of this synth nonsense, that eliminates Piper and Lisanna as having a legitimate reason for being here,” Geneva venomously replied. “And, since you seem more than content to continue doing whatever it is you mercenary types do, it seems you’re eliminated from having a legitimate reason for being here, too. As for Natalie, I hope she’ll learn from her sister’s mistakes.”

Piper scoffed. “Mistakes? Think my biggest mistake has been not saying I’m with the Institute, because McDonough would probably have come running if –"

“You ever think you could get a man’s attention easier if you used softer words, honey?” Geneva said, standing up and raising a hand to silence the younger woman. “Maybe shout a little less, for a start.”

“Ah, yes,” Piper said, stepping slightly towards her. “That reminds me of this article I’m writing about the mayor’s affair with a certain air headed, blonde!”

“I’d like the inside scoop on that article,” MacCready said, amused when Geneva turned to scowl at him. “What? Don’t tell me you’re starting to think we’re the ones with a respectable job!”

“Maybe you should try again later,” She said, dusting off her skirt before turning back to glower at Piper. “And, even if I did know anything about the mayor’s courier, I certainly wouldn’t put my neck on the line for any of you. No matter how good a reason, Lisanna is a spoiled brat, Piper is nosy with no respect for other people’s privacy, and you, sir, are nothing more than a disposable gun for hire. So, no, I would never risk my job, let alone my life, for people as replaceable as all of you.”

Chapter 18: Something Wicked

Chapter Text

Diamond City
May the 14th, 2288
16:09

A hobby she often felt went underappreciated, the organising, labelling, filing, and printing of materials for Valentine’s Detective Agency was one of the most calming activities to the well known detective’s secretary.

Humming to herself, she laid the newest version of the agency’s business card out on her desk. She then smiled, proud of the almost shiny gold words, nearly calligraphic in script, and so freshly printed onto the cardstock for the boxes she gingerly placed each one in to be warm from the cards being ejected from the printer. Valentine’s Detective Agency, Nicholas Julius Valentine and Eleanor Marie Perkins, Diamond City, Massachusetts Commonwealth. Hearing the tinkling sounds of glass and metal brushing against each other on the windchimes of the door to the agency, she looked up, a bit surprised by visitors in the mid afternoon during quite the slow week. Nevertheless, when she saw who entered, she smiled and waved them inside. To no surprise, Piper stepped in first, a look in her eyes that said everything about why she had stopped by. Always wanting to know what Nick’s doing, don’t you? Can’t say I blame you, we wouldn’t have gone to the trouble of setting up the long range radio communications system if we weren't going to use it to communicate during his longer cases. No more than a few seconds after her sister, Nat came in too, nearly slamming into the door. Once she reoriented herself, she all but ran over to see if any case files were out. Pulling open some of the file cabinets, Nat’s eyes went wide, thumbing through the folders as quickly as possible, looking for something interesting. Seeing one on top of Nick’s desk, however, distracted the teenager, and she immediately began paging through it. Too quick for her to argue, her sister plucked the file out of her hands and handed it over to the detective’s secretary, barely able to resist her own curiosity.

“I get the feeling losing any pages of this would be…bad to say the very least,” Piper said, sending her sister a pointed look when she scowled at her. “Have you heard much from Nick? You know, since you guys set up a working…radio system or something like that? I could have sworn Vadim was –”

“He was one of the ones who fixed it up. He and Emmett, actually, were the ones to get it running. You and Lissy can say what you will about her brother, but he’s brilliant,” Ellie said, rolling her eyes. “Nick said it wasn’t necessary, but I think he’s at least accepted we need it after what happened with Skinny. Or, at least, I need it.”

“So, you’ve been talking with Nick?” Nat said, hopping onto a spinning chair and skidding across the floor on it towards her sister and the detective’s secretary. “What’s he had to say?”

“Not much,” Ellie said, reaching for the file and flipping it open and shut. “I suppose the good thing is I know where he is this time, relatively speaking. They had to take shelter in an old subway station around the Cambridge area, College Square I think it was. Nick had been worried about ferals but, surprisingly, the old station there – and the area itself, for the most part – was clean of ferals.”

Piper shuddered. “Last time I went to that area, I had to shoot, stomp, and kick my way through some ferals that seemed to just come out of nowhere. Although I have heard the Cambridge area has been creepily quiet lately. How’d they end up there?”

“They’re trying track Kellogg by scent, using some of the things the bastard left behind,” Ellie said, taking her hair out of its tight bun and letting it flow down to her shoulders. “He wasn’t too eager to talk about it, but it sounds like they got lost. He was trying to be very quiet when we were speaking…I think he was trying to let Nora and Cait sleep. But that terrible storm last week? It was why they had to detour and take shelter in the old subway station. If you ask me, I think they got lost because of it.”

“Lost?” Nat said, stopping her spinning for a moment. “Are they still lost?”

“I don’t really know what to call it, but lost I think suits it best,” Ellie shook her head. “From what I understand, they’re currently west from there and a bit south, but had…they went through what looked like a small town that’s been completely torn to pieces. Nick is convinced at least some of them were killed by Kellogg. The only thing that seems clear is Dogmeat is taking them west. But he seems to keep going north, then south, and then…well, I can’t make much sense of it.”

“That’s not good,” Piper said, glancing towards the radio on the secretary’s desk. “So…do you just sit here all day and wait for him to check in?”

“I’m still taking and processing case requests, but, yes,” Ellie said, adjusting the radio to ensure she hadn’t turned the sound volume off accidentally. “It’s not too bad, and Nick knows I take a break every day from two in the afternoon until five, so we’ve had no communication issues. I’m more so worried about, well, Cait.”

“Why?” Nat eyed her strangely. “Cait can do pretty much anything. I once saw her kick a man in the head and break his jaw like it was nothing!”

“She’s good at fighting, but it’s the chems I’m worried about. I don’t think I’d even be alive if I did even half the drugs she’s done in the twenty seven years of her life so far,” Ellie paused a second. “Cait’s reckless under the best circ*mstances and trying to hunt down someone as…I suppose, to put it lightly, extremely wicked as Conrad Kellogg...”

“Extremely wicked, shockingly evil, and vile,” Piper counted off. “There’s a lot of negative words you could use to describe him, and they’d all be accurate.”

“They would,” Ellie said, standing up to stretch her legs. “I’ve been putting off going through the files Nick deemed important about him, the ones they found in his old home, because of it. After reading just two of them I felt sick. I don’t know how anyone can live with themselves after doing even a little bit of what he has, and we’ve come across some pretty disturbing people in this job.”

Nat snickered. “Like when Piper almost got executed?”

“Not funny, Natalie!” Piper scowled at her little sister. “You really think the Children Of Atom wouldn’t have killed me if I hadn’t convinced them I had a vision?”

“I remember Nick nearly lost it when you stepped back into Diamond City wearing their clothes,” Ellie said, trying not to laugh. “You left wearing jeans, a t-shirt, and a beat up jacket and came back in a matching torn up shirt and leggings, with electrical wire and tape tying a colander to your chest!”

“I still have those, if you want them,” Piper dryly replied. “God, I can’t tell you how much I missed clean, running water, electricity…I sat in the shower until it got cold just because I was relieved I could. Didn’t help they were setting up like they owned the place in the sewers under Bunker Hill.”

“You used up all of our shampoo and body wash within the span of an hour,” Nat said, her nose wrinkling at the memory. “I’m still mad at you for not leaving any warm water or the nice shampoo for me. I had to use bar soap, and it crumbled in my hands!”

“Nat, how many times do I have to say I’m sorry?” Piper said though she soon started laughing. “I was seventeen and very, very stupid. At least they bought it when I told them Atom revealed himself to me…and it probably helped I strung them along that until I was able to escape. They really thought I had a revelation from Atom after I said Atom told me about the holiest event, and they believed me when I told them ‘if the radiance of a thousand suns were to burst at once into the sky, that would be like the splendour of the mighty one.’”

“That’s an odd thing to say,” Ellie said, lost in thought for a second. “I could have sworn I’d heard Nick say something along those lines before when talking about the War.”

“I’d actually learnt the quote from him,” Piper said with a shrug. “We were talking about history one day, and he asked me what I knew about the bombs, which at the time wasn’t much. Apparently the first bomb had been tested over a hundred years before the War, and one of the scientists who created it said that at the sight. Although I didn’t tell the Children the rest of what he said, which was ‘now I am become Death, the destroyer of worlds,’ since they think the bombs created millions of universes or some sh*t.”

“I’ve heard Nick say that part before,” Ellie noted. “First time I heard him say it was the year I started working for him. The day of the anniversary of the War, he was looking through case files and then turned to me and said that, before wondering aloud if that’s what the people who caused the War intended. Caught me off guard…but the more I think about it, the more true it feels. Maybe that’s why Nora’s been so…well, according to Nick, angry the past few days. Coming from the world she knew…I wonder if that’s what she sees, and, just as much, I can’t help but wonder what she’s going to do about it, especially if they do manage to find Kellogg.”

The Institute
May the 15th, 2288
11:11

“I apologise for calling the both of you to such a sudden meeting in the middle of the morning, but something rather…unexpected and concerning has come up.”

Nearly the moment Dr. Allison Filmore and Dr. Evan Watson stepped into the Directorate’s primary conference room to find only Shaun awaiting them, it became apparent something was wrong. Taken aback by his friend and close colleague’s unusually irritable demeanour, Dr. Watson stood almost perfectly still in near silence before flinching at the noise of the doors to the room being shut and locked behind him by Dr. Filmore. For her part, though exhausted and a bit annoyed about being called out and having to delay analysing the most recent report from members of her Division, Dr. Filmore was much less startled by the Director’s demeanour and, instead, curious. Typically a relatively reserved and calm man, the sharp tone in Shaun’s voice, alongside the way he frowned at the file he had set onto and opened on the table made his irritation more than apparent. Once he sat down, Dr. Watson was quick to follow suit, taking the seat on the left side closest to the Director, while Dr. Filmore took the seat closest to the Director on the right. A moment passed with no words exchanged. The sound of paper being flipped through by the Director became the only sound in the room other than the perpetual hum of the Institute’s internal climate control system. Then, satisfied he had in hand what he needed to present to two of his most valued scientists, Shaun began to speak.

“This is a matter I’ve not yet come to a decision on, at least in when and how the news will be revealed to the rest of the Institute,” He began, narrowly looking between Dr. Allison Filmore and Dr. Evan Watson. “As such, I expect you will both keep this sensitive information to yourselves.”

“Of course,” Allie said. “What exactly is going on? I assume it has to do with things topside.”

“It does, though not within the Commonwealth,” Shaun said, attempting to restrain his anger towards the matter. “As you and the Institute at large are well aware, Dr. Zimmer has spent the last decade supervising the reclamation process of high profile synth units which have escaped the Institute, primarily to the Capital Wasteland. Unfortunately, that operation has come to a rather unpleasant closure.”

“Unpleasant closure?” Evan repeated, his brow furrowing. “That could mean anything from his Courser escort turning on him to him passing away unexpectedly…although, considering his age and how much time he’s spent above ground, that wouldn’t be too terribly surprising.”

“As it were, either one of those options would be better than the reality,” Shaun said, letting out an irritated sigh. “Though our liaison for Zimmer typically does not give us any information beyond what he has sent back to us, his liaison returned to the Commonwealth – to the Institute – in the early hours of last Tuesday. While I am pleased to say he has returned to his usual work in wiping the minds of escaped units in the SRB after proper debriefing, what he had to inform me of was quite disturbing.”

Allie raised an eyebrow. “Disturbing?”

“Yes,” Shaun said. “I’ll be quite blunt: Dr. Zimmer and S3-47 were taken by the Brotherhood Of Steel and have since been killed by them. This information was confirmed following the brief dispatch of a Courser to the area, and it has, with it now impossible for Dr. Zimmer to return, and with highly sophisticated Institute technology having entered the hands of the Brotherhood, left quite a few…open issues. The one I require your immediate consideration on is regarding the question of leadership of the SRB.”

“What?” Allie eyed him strangely. “With all due respect, sir, why are you asking us about this instead of bringing it to the attention of the entire Directorate? Bar Dr. Ayo, of course.”

“I am bringing the matter to your attention, and Dr. Watson’s, because the two of you are the most level headed members of the Institute’s upper leadership,” Shaun shook his head. “I am already well aware of what Dr. Li and Dr. Binet would have to say on the matter, just as I am with what Dr. Ayo would have to say about it. I’m requesting your input because of the gravity of the matter, and with the knowledge the two of you are capable of objectivity in matters where others often aren’t.”

“Well, that’s very complimentary,” Allie said, pausing briefly in thought. “Still, with the Brotherhood having their hands on one of our most sophisticated and advanced machines, it seems the Directorate as a whole ought to be aware of it.”

“The stealing and, no doubt, dissection of S3-47 by the Brotherhood will be announced to the rest of the Directorate later this week,” Shaun explained. “It is only Dr. Zimmer’s death at the hands of the Brotherhood that will be kept quiet, for now, until I have come to a decision on who will take his place permanently. Which, of course, is part of why I called yourself and Dr. Watson to this meeting. So, I pose the question: should Dr. Ayo become the official head of the SRB?”

“Considering both his insistence in meddling with the other Divisions and his, at this point, incompetence in preventing synth escapes, I would be inclined to say no,” Allie frowned. “Though both of those issues are only scratching the surface. His intentional omissions on how much power the SRB consumes are a significant problem, not the least of which because of the most recent incident, where he sent up three Coursers while giving no reason or proper logging, which was a major contributing factor to our most recent blackout.”

“There’s also the matter of his…refusal to compromise,” Evan added. “Though Dr. Li and I frequently disagree, the fact she only recently requested and received permission to restrict his access to Advanced Systems as a whole and her laboratory and office in particular suggests to me she tried to put up with and find a way to come to, at the very least, an impasse for quite a long time. Since this started several years ago, upon her appointment and instatement as the head of Advanced Systems, I believe she’s far less the problem in the hostilities between Advanced Systems and the SRB than Ayo.”

“Yes, though Dr. Li can certainly have moments of little patience, she is by and large a reasonable if somewhat paranoid person,” Shaun agreed. “Her concerns about Dr. Ayo’s tendency towards aggressive action and assumption of his own correctness are valid, and also concerns other members of the Directorate have also raised in recent months.”

“To be completely transparent, this is a subject, I’m sure, all of us have thought about before,” Evan said, continuing when Shaun did not attempt to stop him. “I, for instance, had been expecting Dr. Ayo to face some form of reprimanding on the basis of the matters Dr. Filmore noted alone. My assumption, as I believe was the same as many others in the Institute, was, upon Zimmer’s return, he would go back to being the head of the SRB, Dr. Secord would remain second in seniority, and Dr. Ayo would be pushed down to third.”

“So, if you’re looking for a concise answer to the question of the SRB’s leadership going forward, I would suggest making Dr. Secord the Division Head and Dr. Ayo just below her,” Allie summarised. “With that in mind, when should we expect the decision to be made and announced to the Directorate as a whole?”

“Soon, but not immediately,” Shaun replied. “Until we are on the verge of completing Phase Three, which I understand is likely to come within the next few months, making such a…drastic announcement would be too much of a distraction from such a crucial project. This is especially true, considering the other bit of news regarding the Brotherhood.”

“There’s more?” Allie said, taken aback. “Was the information obtained during the debriefing?”

“Yes, it was,” Shaun turned to Evan. “Dr. Watson, thank you for your input. See to it you keep the information to yourself, but I will likely take your and Dr. Filmore’s suggestion to promote Dr. Secord in the coming months. Unfortunately, this next matter is one only the Directorate may be aware of, at the moment, and thus I must ask you to leave.”

“Of course,” Evan said politely, standing up and leaving the room. “Thank you for trusting our counsel on such a…shocking and critical matter.”

Almost as if he were never there, the doors shut nearly the second Dr. Evan Watson passed through them. A bit concerned, Dr. Allison Filmore sighed, tired, but ready to hear whatever other information had been obtained in the confirmation of Zimmer’s death and S3-47’s destruction.

“As you are well aware, the Brotherhood Of Steel have a sizable army, and are preparing to leave for the Commonwealth any day, now,” Shaun finally said, a grim tone entering his voice. “What is most concerning about their movements is it appears they will be bringing the parts to reconstruct a pre-War, highly dangerous weapons project known as Liberty Prime. Amongst the robot's many capabilities…one of its primary weapons is the nuclear bomb.”

“What?” Allie frowned. “How did this slip past our intelligence operations? I doubt they could keep something so dangerous hidden.”

“That matter has yet to be determined, though we believed it had been destroyed after they used it on the so-called Enclave,” Shaun said. “What I am asking you to do is simple: I need you and Dr. Li to figure a way to destroy it beyond repair before the Brotherhood can turn it on anyone, but especially us.”

Goodneighbour
May the 17th, 2288
22:39

“Got confirmation the Brotherhood are coming to the Commonwealth,” Hanco*ck said, twirling a disturbingly long pull of the bubblegum in his mouth around his left index finger. “You know, the goddamned Brotherhood Of Steel? Don’t ask me how, but I got friends just about everywhere. You know where Maryland is? They’re around there now, leaving the former Capital.”

Seeing the horrified look on his favourite former gunner’s face, Hanco*ck grimly nodded and, deciding the flavour had gone away and he was bored of twirling, ripped the remaining bubblegum out of his mouth, flicked it off his fingers and onto the ground, and then waved for the unnerved Robert Joseph MacCready to follow him. The day having already been long enough in Diamond City, the twenty three year old briefly took off his hat to run a hand through his hair and then down his face, his eyes feeling heavy and his body aching. Less than jovial, Hanco*ck slowed his pace to let the younger man catch up to him before, finally, the two of them stepped through the doors into what the eccentric mayor was sure to be his favourite store in his town. Kill Or Be Killed. Alert the moment the faintest hint of movement at the door was felt, the former assaultron turned robotic woman turned to face the door, letting out a dark laugh once her sensors registered the men entering as the mayor and ‘Little Bird.’ Finishing organising and laying out the new stock for the coming morning, Kleo paid no mind to either of the men who entered until they approached her counter. Swaggering up to counter and tapping his hands on it to get the former assaultron’s attention, Hanco*ck grinned when Kleo turned to him, waiting for either him or MacCready to say something.

“Can I interest you in my arsenal of death, destruction, and disintegration?” Kleo said, focusing on Hanco*ck though briefly turning to MacCready. “If you’re going to light that in my shop, don’t try to hide it and risk setting any of my inventory on fire. I’d hate to see your pretty face get blown off with your head because of a preventable accident.”

“Thanks for the nightmares, Kleo,” MacCready said, setting his hat back on his head before, properly, lighting a cig. “And, before you ask, I don’t know why we’re here. That’s all Hanco*ck.”

“It is,” The eccentric mayor said, clasping his hands together almost excitedly. “But, in all seriousness,” He sighed. “You got the information I had Fahrenheit send you, right? About the assholes from the former Capital?”

“Yes. I was displeased to hear it,” Kleo said with a sinister note to her voice. “They are likely to want to find people to provide a variety of security related tasks for their take on the modern military man. I resent that. They’re quite like my makers, and I won’t work for the man when I can work for myself.”

“You ain’t got sh*t to worry about,” Hanco*ck reassured her with a wave of his hand. “You have my full permission to incinerate them if they try to break into Goodneighbour.”

“I’ll accept that as permission to do with them what I will,” Kleo said with another dark laugh. “I’ll remain a fully independent, small time business owner who runs a store that sells very large guns, and they’ll learn not to go places they aren’t welcome. Now, is there anything else you need?”

“You got any ideas off the top of your systems about how to deal with them?” Hanco*ck replied. “My Little Bird here and I need to start planning early. The assholes are already on the move from their base according to my contacts.”

“Upstairs, my computer terminal,” Kleo said, almost bored. “Password is ‘sensuality.’ And MacCready?” She added as the former gunner began to follow the mayor up the stairs. “Use the ash tray. I’d rather not have to sweep up after you.”

“Got it, Kleo, thanks,” He said, taking a long draw on his cig when he reached the top of the stairs. “She may got some of the best weapons I’ve ever bought, but she scares me.”

Hanco*ck snickered. “Didn’t think much scared you,” He said, hopping onto the chair in front of the computer terminal. “Now, let’s see what she’s got in the way of ideas…”

“Probably some dark ones,” MacCready said dryly. “Kleo isn’t exactly the warmest person.”

Hanco*ck shrugged. “True, true, but, humour me. Kleo strike you as the embodiment of the Commonwealth, you know, what you expected after you first came here?”

“Nope, that goes to Vadim,” MacCready said, watching the man fuss with the computer. “Before I…well, before I ended up here with Duncan, I’d visited the Commonwealth, once. With his mother, actually. We were sixteen, only really stopped in Diamond City, but spent a few days getting into trouble at the Dugout Inn with Vadim before heading back.”

“Vadim,” Hanco*ck grinned. “Love that guy. He’s one of the good ones. Got to make my way down there, to finalise plans to sell his moonshine in the Third Rail and, of course, fight with my ass of a brother.”

“Figures,” MacCready said, eyeing him strangely when he let out a victorious war whoop upon logging into the computer terminal. “You know you didn’t hack into this thing, right?”

“Sure I do,” Hanco*ck said, chuckling to himself before humming as he began to open files. “But that’s neither here nor there. Anyways, first two months with the pretty doctor lady going good?” Hanco*ck smirked when MacCready startled, almost burning his coat with his cig. “I’m going to take that as a yes.”

“She…Annette’s lovely,” MacCready said, tapping off the excess ash from his cig into the tray. “And having her along for jobs is a lot better than wandering the Commonwealth alone. She’s also…well…”

“Helping your kid?” Hanco*ck surmised. “That’s what I overheard Daisy talking about with Magnolia the other day. Sounds like he’s getting a little better, isn’t he?”

“He is, I just…” MacCready fell silent, and took another, anxious draw on his cig. “I’m scared he’s going to get worse again. He’s…he’s gone through times when he’s gotten better, just a bit, and then gotten worse, and I…if…”

“Hey, hey, it’s okay,” Hanco*ck turned around to give the man a serious, pointed look. “You care a lot about him, he’s your kid. If you need to take some time off to help him, I’m happy to keep you paid during that. Duncan’s a good kid.”

“He is,” MacCready sighed. “You don’t have to do that, Hanco*ck. If I have to, I’ll let you know. Duncan is…well, honestly, I don’t know if I’d…if I’ll be able to cope if I lose him. He’s the most important thing in the world to me, and, yeah, he’s just a little kid but…at the same time, he…”

“I really like her,” Duncan had yawned, laughing when his dad fluffed his hair one last time with the towel to make sure it was dry now he was dressed for sleeping after his bath. “She’s pretty. And nice. Like momma.”

“What?” MacCready had paused, startled. “Have you…” He had gently begun. “Have you been thinking a lot about Lucy, lately?”

Duncan had nodded. “Momma always said happy. Happy. It was her word. She wanted us happy. Annette makes you happy, like momma. You smile a lot when she’s here. Momma’s gone…but she wanted happy. She wanted us happy.”

“You okay?” Hanco*ck suddenly clicked his fingers in front of the former gunner’s face, grimacing when MacCready nearly burnt his coat again. “Seemed a bit lost in the void.”

“I’m…it’s fine,” MacCready said, finally stubbing out his cig in the ash tray. “But…you sure this is what we’re looking for? I don’t think ‘Have A Plan To Kill Everyone You Meet’ is…”

“Damn,” Hanco*ck let out a low whistle. “You know what? Her plan for me is f*cking brilliant. Take a look!”

MacCready eyed him strangely but, nevertheless, leaned forward to take the computer mouse and scroll through the document.

Daisy Calderwall -- laser shot at long range; she’s too close to home for outright assault to be viable without suspicion.

Mayor Hanco*ck – kill bodyguard first, strangulation while she sleeps. Load all doses of chems in the Old State House with poisons. Collateral damage possible, but loses acceptable without too much disruption to the business.

Bobbi No Nose – sensors picked up digging sounds recently, workers and guards being hired at high rates. Wait until night, sneak into hideout, dismantle lights, then kill one by one.

Whitechapel Charlie – pay off one of his associates, good help is hard to hold onto these days.

Lynda Magnolia Carter, Robert Joseph MacCready, Duncan Robert MacCready – she’s a fellow working girl, deserves a chance. He’s a hell of a gun to have at your back, and his kid is cute. Burn down Third Rail as a warning but leave all three alive.

“What am I supposed to make of this?” MacCready said, turning back to Hanco*ck. “I’m not sure if I should be flattered or disturbed by her entry about –”

“She thinks ahead,” Hanco*ck said, leaning back in the chair and cracking his knuckles. “And some of these ideas are pretty f*cking solid. I’ll let her know to use the plan for Bobbi as one of the first go tos if the Brotherhood shows up here while we figure something more solid out. Now…let’s come up with a few ideas of our own for dealing with those assholes.”

The Commonwealth
May the 20th, 2288
19:23

The awful odour and sweltering heat of the former Saugus Ironworks were bad enough from the outside, and, after several days of standoff between the raiders occupying the facility, it was almost unbearable for the Minutemen once they finally made it inside.

Getting past the raiders still within the facility was easier than they had expected. Pulling the filter of his scarf over his face, looping around his ears and covering his nose and mouth, Derek Branson paused at the top of the stairs to the upper level of the facility for Preston, Sturges, and a few other Minutemen who had travelled to the Ironworks with them. From the top of the stairs and farther away from the molten metal scattered precariously across the facility, the heat felt a little less oppressive, if only due to the physical distance from the vats littered below them. Hearing the telltale hum of turrets ahead and the putrid scent of burning skin filling his lungs, Preston, too, pulled the filter of his scarf over his face to cover his nose and mouth before reaching the base of another set of stairs. Looking up, he co*cked and then fired his laser musket at the turrets whose noises were no more a hum but a grinding whirr. Sturges, Derek, and the others close on his heel began to shoot at the turrets in close succession as they continued to make their way up the stairs. When only the reverberation of their gun shots remained, the group took a moment to catch their breath and breathe.

The heat was bad enough on its own. Fighting in and through it made it feel like hell.

After a minute, all of them evened out, the group took a cursory look around the room. From just about the top of the facility, looking down and being able to see where not only the vats of molten metal were still exuding their pungent fumes but where the raiders they had fought through to reach the top laid allowed the brief opportunity for reprieve. Only a few metres away from them was another, albeit significantly shorter, set of stairs leading to a singular door plainly labelled Roof Access. It was the set of doors across from it, however, that were of interest. Even through the thick metal of the doors, voices could be heard shouting and arguing on the other side. A plaque beside it read Saugus Blast Furnace. Grim as it were, with everything they had learnt of the so called Forged in their surveillance of the area prior to breaching the facility, Preston knew, the moment he saw the plaque, the room on the other side of the doors was where whomever these raiders called their leader was waiting. Guns drawn and expecting fire to be opened on them immediately, the group walked up to the doors, pushed them open, and entered the room.

A sword was swung, and a man fell into a vat of molten metal with his head severed from his body.

Standing on the platform above the vat, the man who had killed him laughed, still amused until he met the horrified and disgusted gazes of the Minutemen.

“You must be pretty strong to make it here,” The man said with a deranged smile. “And I thought them gunners had finally done away with you people. What a shame.”

“Well, as you can see, the Minutemen are still here,” Preston replied, pulling down the filter despite the heat to fully look at the man. A man. He’s just a man, like any of us. “And we’re taking back the Commonwealth from the raiders and killers.”

The man rolled his eyes. “That so?” He almost absentmindedly swung the sword around as Preston started up the stairs up to the platform where the man stood. “Do you know who we are? We are the Forged, and I’m Slag, our leader,” He paused and pointed the sword at the trembling young man below, the only one who was not restrained nor had come in with the Minutemen. “Idealistic morons or not, they got up here. See this, Jake? Here’s some people who might actually be worth my time, unlike you.”

Jake stared up at him, swallowing hard. “But…but I brought everything you asked for!”

“Stealing things from your family farm doesn’t prove your strength, boy,” Slag sneered. “Though this wonderful sword you brought does put me in the mood to give you one last chance to prove your worth. Kill one of the prisoners, and prove you aren’t completely useless.”

“You said we’d be raiding outside of the Commonwealth!” Jake gaped at him in horror. “These people aren’t even a threat to us!”

“Prove to me you can kill!” Slag spat, swinging the sword around again. “It’s him or you.”

“Oh God…” Jake wavered, reaching for his gun. “I –”

“Walk away, Jake,” Derek said, stepping forward and pulling the young man back before sternly setting his hands on his shoulders. “You don’t have to do this. Do not do it.”

Jake shook. “I don’t want...but if…if I don’t, they’ll kill me.”

“You have your whole life left to live, kid, you’re only nineteen,” Derek shook his head, letting the boy go. “You have the choice, the chance, to leave. Don’t throw it away.”

“I…” Jake glanced between him, the hostage, and Slag. “I just wanted to provide for my family.”

“This isn’t the way,” Sturges said, extending his hand to the teenager while Derek started up the stairs to where Preston already was, just a few feet away from Slag. “Jake,” Sturges said firmly. “If this is about your family, think about them. Is this what your mother would want for you? Is this really what you think your brother would do? Is this the choice Abraham would want you to make?”

Jake’s grip on his gun slackened. “I thought he hated me,” He said, eyes wide. “Did...did he send you here to find me?”

“Not exactly,” Sturges said. “But there’s still time to turn this around.”

“You don’t need them, they make you weak,” Slag said, laughing when Derek and Preston stood side by side before him. “But either way, this is your last chance, Jake. If you don’t kill one of the prisoners before I count to three, it’s over.”

“I…I just can’t ever manage to live up to his expectations,” Jake whimpered, slowly approaching Sturges and his still extended hand as Slag’s counting rang out in threat around him. “But I…I –”

A gunshot shouting out, Jake screamed and grabbed Sturges’ hand, dropping his gun and running for the door. Two of the other Minutemen ran forward to free the hostages. Slag ordered the men nearest him to open fire on Jake, Sturges, and the hostages and the Minutemen trying to free them. His men making their way down from the platform from both the left and the right, Slag turned to Preston and Derek and snorted before swinging the sword in an attempt to stab or at least knock one or both of the men down into the large vat of molten metal ten feet down from the platform on which they stood. Quick on his feet and a ringing in his ears he tried not to remember hearing all too often a decade earlier, Derek Branson ducked under Slag’s next swing of the sword and managed to get to the man’s right side. Still on the man’s left side, and seeing the other Minutemen had pulled the hostages away from the edge of the vat and towards the doors where Sturges was with Jake, Preston holstered his laser musket and reached for Slag’s left arm. Taken by surprise, he dropped the sword on the platform and let out a violent shout followed by curses when Derek grabbed his right arm. Sharing a resolute look, the both of them with a strong grip on each of the raider boss’ arms, Preston and Derek steadied themselves and, with all of their might, pushed Slag off the platform.

In a matter of seconds, the man fell into the vat of molten metal.

Derek nearly slipped grabbing the sword, and was pulled to safety by Preston before he could fall or be hit by any of the molten metal splashing up.

The remaining Forged shoved their way out of the room.

Jake let out startled shriek.

And, then, there was silence.

“Is he…” Jake said, slowly approaching Preston and Derek as they made their way down the stairs and back to the floor. “Is he dead?”

“Don’t think even a psychopathic raider can climb out of molten metal once they’re enveloped in it, so I’m going to say yes,” Sturges said, dusting his hands off as he followed just behind the teenager. “What were you thinking, running off to join these maniacs?”

“Raiding seemed like easy money,” He said, rubbing his arm and bowing his head when he saw Derek was holding the sword. “We don’t have much, and I thought this would give me the…chance to fix that. I thought giving him my granddad’s sword would be enough but…”

“What’s done is done,” Preston said, taking off his hat, beginning to sweat badly from the heat. “You might not want to believe it, but your family does want you home, Jake.”

“If…look I…know I’ve got no right to ask but…” The teenager looked between the three men, his hands anxiously twitching. “I got to go home…try to make amends, but I think, if you’re there to help explain, things with my dad would go…easier. And I bet if you bring the sword, he’ll make it worth your while! He always tries to deal fair with people.”

“We’re happy to accompany you home,” Preston said, tucking his hat under his arm. “But I hope you’ve learnt your lesson. There’s nothing in the world worth this…no matter what they offer you, raiding ain’t going to do anything good. Not for you, not for your family. Not for anyone. All it’s going to do is tear people apart, and, unfortunately, the world seems to do enough of that on its own already.”

University Point
May the 23rd, 2288
13:31

With no November Man or the hardened and grizzled mercenary known as Conrad Kellogg near, the safety of his daughter was something he knew he ought not worry about.

Yet, so much as he tried, Gerald Spencer could not shake the fear of the Brotherhood Of Steel returning, a Courser posted at the town for security or not.

Seeing the smile of his daughter when she stepped back into her home, the woman who mentored her no more than a few steps behind, Gerald felt the worries and fears briefly leave his body and mind. Just as she always had since she was little, Jacqueline skipped across the room to him and tightly embraced her father. Though she tried not to show it, seeing the excitement and happiness in the teenager’s step and voice was a comfort to Dr. Madison Li, sure, at least, something was being done right. Ensuring the door was closed and locked behind them, she stood in wait, only taking a moment to remove her blazer and drape it over her shoulders, the apartment warmer than she had anticipated. I suppose I shouldn’t be surprised. It’s not as though everywhere in the Commonwealth has nearly as good indoor climate control as the Institute. Glancing around the apartment from where she stood near the door, arms crossed, she found herself more relieved than she would ever be comfortable with at realising things were in just about the same state they had been when she had been there last. Between that, the regular and so far clear reports from X6-88, and the lack of the usual, almost jumpy composure of her protégé’s father, it seemed things were back to normal. An eyebrow raised when Jacqueline waved her over to join them at the third chair at the kitchen table, herself and her father in the other two, Madison tentatively started towards and, finally, joined them with a tense smile.

“Jacqueline has made some rather incredible progress on a few projects, lately,” Madison said, only continuing when neither of them said anything. “I was rather impressed by how quickly and, more to the point, accurately, she was able to design a prototype interface for quicker…status updates for a few of our projects.”

“That’s my girl,” Gerald said, reaching across the table to bump fists with his daughter. “Have things been well outside of work? Or is work all she’s been up to?”

“I think she’s more equipped to answer that than I am,” Madison said pointedly. “Especially considering she’s your daughter.”

“Oh, yes, I…” Gerald laughed nervously, turning back to Jacqueline. “I’m sorry, Jacq. I think I’ve gotten a bit too used to having to ask about you rather than seeing you.”

“It’s alright,” She said with a smile. “I’m just glad to be here. Rosalind and I have had a few girls’ nights, just me, her, and a few of the girls around our age from the other Divisions, it's not just us Advanced Systems girls. We’ve been spending most of them at Rosalind’s apartment, mainly so we don’t get in anyone’s way. Oh! And Allie had her baby a few days ago! Her name is Lillian, and she’s really cute. I think Quentin likes her, too!”

“Well, hopefully he’s learnt how to be a big brother from you,” Gerald said with a half serious look. “I’m sure you’ve been a good…adoptive older sister to him, at least from everything I’ve heard and from what you’ve had to say about him. Now…promise me you aren’t getting into trouble with Rosalind.”

“I’m not,” Jacqueline cheerfully replied. “Worst thing we’ve done is tell Brenden he’s not allowed to join us because it’s girls’ night, and he’s not a girl.”

“Good to know you’re having fun and not causing any form of a crisis for me to have to smooth out,” Gerald said before laughing. “I can’t do everything on my own up here, you know.”

“Don’t worry, I do,” Jacq said, falling silent when she caught a glimpse of the worry in her father’s eyes. “Is something wrong? They…they didn’t come back, did they?”

“The…those Brotherhood people?” Gerald said, flinching. “Oh, no, they…they haven’t come back.”

“If they had,” Madison sharply added. “You would know about it, and most likely wouldn’t be here.”

“Oh, thank goodness,” Jacqueline breathed a sigh of relief. “Whatever it is they want, I hope they stay away from here…and, pretty much, everywhere, really.”

“I’m sure we’ll be taken care of by our…mutual friends,” Gerald said, suddenly standing up. “Wait here a moment, Jacq. I forgot I left your birthday present in my room. I’ll be right back with it.”

Jacqueline nodded, turning a bit in her chair to watch her father until he disappeared down the hall. She then turned back to Madison, and smiled, happy to see her mentor give her a small smile in return. She didn’t notice, after she turned to stare out the window at the birds and the trees swaying from the early summer wind outside, how quickly the woman’s face fell. More disconcerted by the mention of the Brotherhood than she would let either Jacqueline or her father know, she began to go through what she and the Directorate knew already, hoping by reminding herself they were not in the dark would calm her down. Their movements towards the Commonwealth have significantly picked up in the last week, and reports suggest they should reach at least Pennsylvania by the first of June if not New York. Their leadership is surprisingly well organised and reinvigorated, apparently the work of the new Elder who, by all accounts, rose to the position when he was only sixteen. Arthur Maxson. Never thought I’d see the day where I missed Lyons and his approach of appeasem*nt. Hearing the shuffled and startled footsteps coming from down the hall, Madison tensed, only to feel annoyed with herself when she realised a split second later it was only Gerald, likely having tripped on something. She sighed. So much as she had no desire to dwell on it, the heavy feeling of anxiety and anger that had returned to her since learning the Brotherhood were closer to the Commonwealth every day made her feel almost sick.

The most damning revelation about their coming to the Commonwealth had only underscored the feeling.

“The Brotherhood Of Steel are notorious for their hoarding of and self righteous attitude towards technology,” Shaun had said, standing up to insert a holotape projection to present to the Directorate, all of whom were taken by surprise when the projection loaded. “The most concerning aspect of this for us, in the immediate, is the fact they are in possession of the parts of a pre-War weaponry project by the US military known as ‘Liberty Prime,’ which is one of if not the most dangerous trick in their arsenal.”

Liberty Prime. The Brotherhood’s once best kept secret had been one they left to rust and fall apart after the war with the Enclave concluded. It had seemed apparent they had no more use for it or, at the very least, had no more uses for it capable of justifying the resources and time it would take to put the damned thing back together. Startled once more when she heard footsteps only to remember, yet again, it was only Gerald returning from down the hall, Madison frowned. Lyons may have let me go, but enough of the others in the ranks, I'm sure, still think I know too much. If they have Prime, then they’ll be looking for me, either to kill me for what I know about it or to force me to reconstruct it. The thought both disgusting and unsettling to her, she instead reached into the pocket of her dress pants and pulled out her old, small, fraying notebook and began flipping through the pages. Years of her work, information on historical events, reminders of the nightmares of the Brotherhood flashed before her until she, much to her surprise, came across two pages which gave her pause, two pages focused on one event just over one hundred and thirty two years before the War, the one event changing everything. The Trinity Test. Taking in a deep breath to calm herself, Madison only glanced up from the pages when Gerald all but ran back into the room, a box in his hands and a smile on his face. The words she had been snagged on, however, did not leave her mind, and the voice of the man who had said them then rang out in her mind, the man whose work had inspired her to pursue science in the first place.

If the radiance of a thousand suns were to burst at once into the sky, that would be like the splendour of the mighty one. Now I am become Death, the destroyer of worlds.

Madison closed the notebook and looked up to see Jacqueline excitedly waiting for her father to rejoin them, grinning when he did and handed her the large, albeit fraying, velvet box.

Will the words of Julius Oppenheimer become mine if the Brotherhood manage to find me, if they force me to fix their damn robot?

“Now you’re nearly an adult, I think you’re old enough to have this,” Gerald said when Jacqueline gasped upon opening the box. “I’m sure, knowing how much you’ve accomplished, your mother would feel the same. She had this necklace made for you when you were a baby…and I only wish she were here to see me give it to you now, too.”

Jacqueline delicately closed the box before slipping it into her coat pocket. “I…thanks, dad,” She said, blinking back tears. "I hope she’d be proud of me too.”

“I can’t speak for her, but I imagine she would,” Gerald assured her. “I know I am, and I suspect Dr. Li and Dr. Filmore are too.”

“She’s doing quite well,” Madison agreed, standing up from the table. “I’ll let you have time as a family. There are…a few things I need to ensure are done.”

“Of course,” Gerald said, reaching over to shake her hand. “And, once again, thank you for everything, Dr. Li. I’ll see you again later this afternoon?”

“Yes,” She said, starting towards the door. “I’ll be back in a few hours.”

It's all too familiar and I hope to God neither he or Jacqueline will ever have to know the extent to which the Brotherhood are capable of tearing lives apart. They have more than enough to worry about as it is. We all do.

Chapter 19: Something Vile

Chapter Text

The Prydwen
May the 24th, 2288
7:22

Annapolis, Maryland. Having once been a city home to one of the largest military academies of the United States, to say the resources left behind were of interest to the Brotherhood would have been an immense understatement. With the need to adjust a few final systems aboard the Prydwen, too, it was the perfect place to stop.

With multiple teams of Scribes below and going through, first, the remains of what had been the United States Naval Academy proper, the majority of the staff still aboard the Prydwen were Squires, Initiates, or Knights. Even Proctor Marshall Quinlan had descended to the surface to explore, collect, and log information, documents, supplies, and weapons. In his own office, Elder Arthur Maxson continued to go through what information had been able to be gathered about former Brotherhood members they suspected or knew were in the Commonwealth. The results had been disappointing. In the majority of cases, the former members had either since died, left the Commonwealth with no further information regarding their whereabouts, or had otherwise gone missing. Frustrated, he turned back to the information he had sent back to Reconnaissance Squad Gladius upon Danse’s request for information on a woman they had come into contact with during an investigation which had, much to their annoyance, resulted in a dead end. A bit surprisingly, the information they had on her had been relatively substantial, especially after having received confirmation from Reconnaissance Squad Gladius they had, in fact, correctly identified the woman. Taking a quick glance at the file, the East Coast Brotherhood’s Supreme Commander checked to ensure the update of her location had been logged which, as expected, it had been.

Davis, Dr. Annette Christine – Civilian, Citadel Medical Student Assistant Under CD-440KC
Date Of Birth – July the 13th, 2258
Eye Colour – Grey
Hair Colour – Brown
Ethnicity – Irish, French, and Nordic
Blood Type: B Positive
Complexion – Pale White
Sex – Female
Height – 5’4”
Last Known Location: Vault 101, unseen since 2286 but found in the Commonwealth in a town called Covenant in January 2288. Urgency for re-recruitment is minimal.

Ensuring the file and its most recent updates were saved to the Brotherhood’s database onboard the Prydwen, Maxson began to go through the list again. Tediously, having to mark file after file as a closed case for one reason or another, he went down the list. So many of these people would still be alive if my forebearers hadn’t let them go. Lyons’ death really did throw us into abject chaos. Lyons. He had, so far as Maxson was concerned, been the best leader for the Brotherhood to carry them through the last few years of the war with the Enclave. Lyons leadership and ideals had fractured the Order, but they had also been instrumental in reinstating and maintaining order in the former Capital. Yet, for as brilliant a tactician as he had been to be the one leading the final victory against the Enclave, he had also been a little too lenient once the Enclave were gone. To a lesser extent, that had been the case with Dr. Davis, who, he was sure to be bitterly ironic, had been taken back to the Vault she had spent most of her life in by Dr. Madison Li, whom herself soon after left not only the Brotherhood but the former Capital entirely. And, now, she’s exiled herself to the Commonwealth with no other purpose but to make contact with the Institute. More than anyone else, she should not have been permitted to leave. She was too valuable an asset. Annoyed, he pulled up Dr. Li’s file, his eyes narrowing the further down it he read.

Li, Dr. Madison Brianne – Registration LI-119K
Date Of Birth – July the 21st, 2229
Eye Colour – Brown
Hair Colour – Black
Ethnicity – Japanese and Korean
Blood Type: O Negative
Complexion – Medium Dark
Sex – Female
Height – 4’11”
Last Known Location: Massachusetts Commonwealth. Suspected to be in the Institute as of 2280, confirmed to be in the Institute as of 2288. Urgency for re-recruitment is critical due to Dr. Li’s intimate knowledge of major projects within the realm of combat robotics, and plans for resurrecting one of her greatest creations.

A bit amused by the wording he was sure had been from Proctor Quinlan, Maxson checked to ensure the file on Dr. Li had been listed as top priority in the database before returning to the navigation and scrolling through the list again. He paused suddenly, however, upon hearing a quick knock at his office door, followed by the door opening. Assuming it was his wife, he quickly stood up and turned around to greet her, surprised to see not her but Proctor Ingram, carrying a welding mask under one arm and an electronic tablet in the other on which she seemed to have pulled up multiple files of schematics from the Brotherhood’s internal database. Frassled, Ingram pulled up the functioning and active status reports on the Prydwen’s internal power systems, which were much more strained than she was comfortable with. The reactor we’ve been using for years seems to have finally given out, or, at least, is close to it. I suppose it makes sense. It was the best we had access to when began construction. Still… When she handed the tablet to Maxson, she wiped the sweat away from her brow, exhausted and less than thrilled for the command meeting scheduled for late in the afternoon. The stop in Maryland had proved to be worth the delay, if only because of the information being obtained, but finding an unexpected problem in the systems of the Prydwen was not only aggravating but concerning.

“We’re about four hundred and twenty four miles away from our destination at the former Boston Logan International Airport,” Ingram said as Maxson began to read through the report. “The efficiency of the Prydwen’s current reactor is dropping consistently below fifty percent, and, if we’re going to make it to the Commonwealth in good time and without unnecessarily draining resources, we’ll need to replace it.”

“Do you have a proposal about how to do that?” Maxson said, looking up from the report. “This looks as though it could get to the point of a complete system failure if it’s pushed to get us to the Commonwealth on schedule.”

“The good news is, even in the case of a system failure, backup power will be able to get the Prydwen safely to the ground, and the current reactor won’t go into meltdown,” Ingram said with a slight frown. “The bad news is the…question of how to obtain a new reactor.”

Maxson raised an eyebrow. “What do you mean?”

“Because we’ll need a new, updated fusion plant to get to the Commonwealth on schedule, Teagan has made the proposal to requisition one from Rivet City, the one central to the city’s power,” Ingram replied. “Quinlan and I disagree, from a logistical standpoint, especially considering the fact the information his teams have found in the former Naval Academy have given us the locations of multiple reactors of the same calibre and type as the one in Rivet City, two of which have the potential to be of even better quality than the one in Rivet City.”

“I’ll sign off on that. You’re right, Rivet City would be too much of a logistical nightmare,” Maxson said, handing the tablet back to her. “People over there would cause far too many casualties for us, even if we tried to take it. Some might even try to sabotage the system entirely. It would be too much of a risk.”

“In that case, I’ll let Teagan know,” Ingram smiled. “And congratulations on such a strong start to our mission so far and, of course, congratulations you and Karissa are expecting. Seems everything is on the Brotherhood’s side so far, and that’s a damn good place for us to be in, seeing as we're heading into somewhere as troubled as the Commonwealth.”

"It is," Maxson agreed. "We might as well be heading into the heart of darkness itself."

The Institute
May the 25th, 2288
11:43

“Did you hear the news? Father has officially approved the date for my presentation on the synth sentience conjecture!”

Much to his surprise, when he stepped into Advanced Systems and, then, Dr. Li’s laboratory, Dr. Alan Binet was not met by an irritated scowl from the ordinarily irritable Division Head. Rather, she looked more so confused as to why he was there, something he quickly realised he had, in his excitement, forgotten to mention. After a moment of searching for it, he pulled out the thumb drive and the physical copy of the latest report on S9-23, much to her surprise. Despite the ramblings, he really did it. How the hell did he turn this around so fast? Setting the report down on her desk and plugging the thumb drive into her computer terminal to download the information, she looked up in surprise to see he hadn’t left and was, somewhat anxiously, rolling back and forth on his feet. When he realised she had noticed, he began to speak only to cut himself off when the door to the laboratory opened again. This time unsurprised, Madison only sighed when she saw the look on Dr. AllisonFilmore’s face, knowing, if she were visibly agitated, it meant nothing good was happening.

“Have a look at this and tell me I’m not losing my mind,” Allie said, handing Madison her tablet. “There is no way this much power consumption can be coming out of Bioscience.”

“Didn’t they have safety and efficiency inspections earlier this week?” Madison frowned when she nodded. “Then I don’t know why it’s reporting this. I’m assuming there’s no technical issues with any of the machines taking the readings, so why would…”

“I had several members of my staff test to ensure everything was running as it should, then had them take the readings and analysis manually. Nothing is off kilter,” Allie said, exasperated. “I also spoke to Clayton this morning, and he was just as shocked.”

“Is the current primary reactor having trouble?” Alan hesitantly suggested. “It’s far from my speciality, but could the reactor be giving a false reading due to strain?”

“The reactor is running fine,” Madison told him. “In part due to us pulling from sources on the surface at the moment. If the problem were with the reactor, it wouldn’t be showing an unusual and unexplained spike in energy consumption for only one Division. That, in most scenarios, wouldn’t even be possible because the amount of energy the reactor could produce without shutting itself off would drop significantly.”

“What’s most concerning about it is Clayton took a look at the systems in Bioscience with me, and none of them were registering anything beyond what they should,” Allie went on. “He also, temporarily, shut down the power to the Synth Zoological Initiative, and doing so barely changed the readings at all.”

“Did it spike when he turned the power to it back on?” Alan said, surprised when she shook her head. “I wonder if this has anything to do with the FEV lab still not having been completely scrubbed.”

“I was wondering that myself, but the FEV lab is completely offline,” Allie said, pulling up the information when Madison handed her tablet back. “The only power near that area is the security barrier to keep people out, which is accounted for. As it happens, everything is accounted for except for this spike, and it has been consistent for three days, now, which means it is not just a one time anomaly.”

“It’s not,” Madison agreed. “I’ll have someone go down to check the reactor later today, but the last check came back the same as it has been for months.”

“Which is incredibly frustrating,” Allie said, tiredly running a hand through her hair. “I brought the matter up to Shaun yesterday with Clayton after a preliminary look at the systems statuses in Bioscience, and he was surprisingly unbothered by it. I might simply be exhausted, trading off with Nathan to care for our newborn daughter and only being a week past recovering from having her, but I was starting to feel he was deflecting the more we pressed him on the matter.”

“Did you mention the possibility of it coming from the FEV lab?” Madison’s eyes narrowed when she nodded. “Well. That’s certainly interesting.”

Alan eyed her strangely. “In what way?”

“If you must know, after Dr. Virgil was killed in the laboratory accident, I wanted to help with the investigation,” Madison said, crossing her arms. “The way Father has handled the incident has never sat right with me, and, any time I’ve asked him about anything remotely related to the FEV lab, he’s been at best evasive. Him telling the Directorate about Kellogg being in the field to recover research of Virgil’s a synth stole while decontaminating the lab? That’s the most I’ve gotten out of him on the subject in quite a while.”

“Very little about how the FEV accident was handled makes sense,” Allie said, glancing through records on the lab’s activity. “The last time anything was recorded as entering there was when the crew of five synths were sent in to decontaminate the lab, one of which stole and ran off with Virgil’s research, and that was –”

Hearing the door open again, Madison swore under her breath, though she paused, surprised to see it was only Quentin, who all but ran into the room. Alan smiled and waved at the young boy, who eagerly waved back. His mother, however, sighed, almost afraid to ask what he was doing before a sudden pang of guilt hit her. Damn it. How did I forget spring break starts today? I… Startled when he saw any hint of annoyance suddenly leave his mother, Quentin, albeit nearly tripping over Dr. Li’s desk, ran over to awkwardly hug his mother. In part out of concern he’d break something and in part out of concern something was wrong, Allie kept one arm wrapped around her son even after he let her go, scrolling down a few pages on her tablet before handing it back to Madison with access to the history of FEV power consumption loaded. Seeing the way Madison’s gaze darkened as she began to look through the data for any anomalies, Alan uncomfortably looked between the three of them, unsure of what to say, and rather taken aback by seeing Quentin, for once, seemingly out of trouble.

“So,” Alan finally said. “I know you like mind benders, Quentin. What do you think synths dream about?”

“What do synths dream about?” Quentin repeated. “I mean…maybe numbers and equations? Why?”

“He gets to tell the Directorate and several other senior Institute scientists about what he’s been obsessing over with synths and whether or not they dream in a few months,” Madison said, briefly glancing up from what she was reading. “If you’re confused, then that’s a good thing. I think I speak for just about everyone when I say I find it perplexing.”

“Don’t listen to her,” Alan said, waving a hand dismissively. “Every question is an avenue to new research! We wouldn’t be very good scientists if we didn’t explore every possibility!”

“Dr. Binet, for the last time, please,” Madison sent him a sharp look. “Just because you can do something doesn’t mean you should. I’m still waiting for you to provide a grounded reason for this line of research going beyond satisfying your personal curiosity.”

“I have given you that. You only refuse to accept it because you refuse to accept we can learn from the synths,” Alan said before turning back to Quentin. “Some synths have dreams surprisingly similar to our own,” He eagerly continued. “Humour me – what’s the strangest dream you’ve ever had about the surface?”

Quentin considered that. “I had one the other day about Lily riding a pig. Except the pig had a saddle, and was guided by her holding a carrot on a stick in front of its face.”

Allie laughed. “Your baby sister can’t even sit up on her own, how could she guide a pig around with a carrot on a stick?”

Quentin shrugged. “That’s why it was weird. Funny, but weird. Do you think Dr. Holdren will let her try that with a synth pig in a few years?”

“God, I hope not,” Allie said though she smiled. “As for you, Alan,” She said pointedly. “Do us all a favour and bring up the issue of the unaccounted for power spike out of Bioscience with Father.”

“He can’t ignore all of us,” Madison put in, suspiciously glancing back at the data. “And if he’s willing to deflect me, Allie, and Clayton, then I, for one, want to know how far he’s willing to take it if this really does have something to do with the FEV lab.”

Diamond City
May the 26th, 2288
18:27

So far as Piper Courtney Wright was concerned, Geneva Alexa Walters was one of the worst people in Diamond City, and not only because of her impassioned defence of McDonough.

Seeing a complaint in her inbox about her newspaper she was certain to be from Geneva, then, unsurprisingly pissed her off.

Swearing as she read through the ever growing list of complaints, Piper let her mind wander, ways to respond beginning to float through her mind. Some of them, she knew, would have to remain nothing more than personal responses but the others were publishable. Somehow, seeing a complaint from someone whom she knew had to be Geneva amongst the rest, among the usual complaints, plucked a nerve. Telling you what I’m really thinking would serve you right for calling me, my wife, and Mack replaceable, and for, because of course you did, taking McDonough’s side when he made fun of and tried to discredit me as a journalist just for being Italian American. Even if you don’t think he’s a synth – which he is – McDonough is a bad person either way…a detail the Institute surprisingly got right about the real one. From what Hanco*ck has said, although he’s not always the most reliable source, he was never a good person even before he was swapped out by the Institute. Trying to set aside her anger about the other comments the mayor had made about her wife, her wife’s family, Mack, and Cait for being Irish Americans, Piper narrowed her eyes at the screen of her computer terminal while she tried to turn the screen brightness up. With several of the lightbulbs in the office burnt out (again), the usual, somewhat low light of the screen made it too difficult to read without all but shoving her face into the screen. Once the keys unstuck and the brightness was raised, she reached over for her notebook and pen and began jotting down nearly every thought which came and went in her mind as she scrolled through the complaint she knew was from Geneva. She groaned when she clicked out of it to find a pile of other complaints in her inbox, and, slowly, began to go through them by date received.

27. March. 2288 –

“Your recent article comparing Goodneighbour to Diamond City made a gross attempt to characterise Goodneighbour’s mayor as better than our Mayor McDonough. Considering Goodneighbour is haven for junkies and their mayor is more than just a little bit known for his drug use –”

30. March. 2288 –

“Continuing this synth nonsense is doing nothing. If the Institute is really out there, then there’s no point in playing into their game and letting them be the Commonwealth’s –”

“Another day, another round of the same complaints,” Piper muttered. “No one gives a sh*t about the fact I write articles about other things, about generally interesting or fun things, just…”

21. May. 2288 –

“If you learnt to be less aggressive in both your writing and in person, perhaps people would take you more seriously, even if you continuing to hurl accusations against the mayor while providing scant proof based on your own judgements. You should be ashamed of yourself for the example you’re setting for your impressionable little sister. At the very least, shame could keep you from getting arrested again.”

“Sweet of you, Geneva,” Piper sighed, briefly rubbing at her eyes. “You and McDonough keep talking, it’s all you’re good for.”

Setting down her notebook and pen, she looked back up at her computer, and opened up a text document simply labelled Personal Responses. Piper laughed a bit at some of her old responses as the long document loaded. Then, she made the long scroll down to the most recent page, typed in the date, and, realising she was angrier than she thought, began writing a response. She started but then backspaced and then started again a couple of times. Start. Back. Repeat. When she was finally satisfied, she read it back, resisting the urge to make it the published response. Thank you for your concern. I hope you get snatched. There was something about the way Geneva spoke which got under her skin. Falsely soft, sweet and feminine voice. Assuming she was better than everyone else just because of her ability to get favour after favour from people because people bought into her ass kissing. Do I think you’re sleeping with McDonough to get ahead? Oh, believe me, I do. About to write more, she suddenly turned around and stood up, the door to her office being all but ripped open, followed by several sets of footsteps taking her by surprise.

“Hadley, it’s not –”

“Lisanna? Lana Marie? Addison? Are –”

“Lissy’s at the Dugout,” Piper called down, leaning a bit over the balcony separating her bedroom from the rest of the office below to see them. “Ada and May are being a good influence on Nat and teaching her how to draw detailed scenery…and we all know where Emmett is and what he’s doing.”

Hadley sighed. “Damn it.”

“So…” Piper raised an eyebrow when she saw the front door to her office open again, even more surprised to see it to be by Preston. “I’m guessing this is something to do with the Minutemen?”

“Not today,” Preston said, holstering his laser musket. “Although you might still be interested. You know the Brotherhood Of Steel? They’re apparently closing in on the Commonwealth.”

Piper grimaced, looking between her mother in law and her father in law.

“Well, that explains…this,” She said, hopping onto the banister and sliding it the rest of the way down the stairs. “What happened?”

“The Brotherhood are coming to the Commonwealth with a great deal of their personnel and nearly all of their leadership here on the East Coast,” Derek calmly explained, taking a moment to clean off his glasses. “I received mail this morning I wasn’t expecting, which was a formal summons to meet with their leadership upon their projected arrival in the Commonwealth in just over a week, and, specifically, meet with their new Elder aboard the Prydwen, the Brotherhood’s airship capable of travelling long distances and housing a sizable army.”

“I can’t believe you’re going to respond to this the way they want!” Hadley said, crossing her arms. “You left the Brotherhood for a reason, Derek, one you’ve been more than willing to discuss for a damn –”

“I’m responding to the summons because it’s common courtesy, Hads, for God’s sake, could you not blow this out of proportion?” Derek fell silent when he saw she was shaking, her glasses fogging while she began blinking back tears. “I know this is unexpected, but I’m simply doing the right thing and –”

“Do you really think they aren’t going to force you back into a life you left behind for the sake of your family and values?” Hadley exclaimed before sitting down on one of the couches and leaning forward, still trying not to cry. “You and Preston were just telling me yesterday about how the two of you, Sturges, and the Minutemen brought a boy home safe to his family, gave him the chance to repair –”

“I’m not going rejoin, Hads,” Derek said, struggling to keep his voice calm. “How could you even think –”

“Because they’re the motherf*cking Brotherhood Of Steel!” Hadley broke down sobbing, barely noticing when Piper came over, sat down next to her, and embraced her. “And because their new Elder is Arthur, and, you know as well as I do, you always thought of him as though he were our own son!”

“He’s a twenty one year old boy, Hads,” Derek irritably reminded her. “If I can handle our teenage son acting out, or Lissy’s manic episodes, or May’s depression, or Ada’s damn near dangerous curiosity, I can more than handle Arthur.”

“That’s not the point!” Hadley snapped through sobs. “You’re giving him power over you! Have you forgotten what the Brotherhood did to us? To our kids? Because, the way I remember it, we had no choice but to leave because the then-Elder was convinced we’d poison the people of the Capital against the Brotherhood! And that doesn’t even account for how traumatic the move here was for our kids! May is now terrified of heights, Lissy’s developed severe claustrophobia, Emmett can’t tolerate loud and sudden noises, and Ada has nightmares just about every damn –”

“Hadley,” Preston gently cut in. “We all know how much you and Derek care about your kids, and how much strain the move put them under, but…from the sounds of it, they weren’t the only ones who’ve been deeply traumatised by the ordeal.”

Hadley swallowed hard and shakily looked up at her husband.

“I can’t lose you, Derek,” She said softly. “Not them, not you…haven’t the Brotherhood controlled us long enough?”

“I’ll be fine, Hads,” Derek said tiredly. “I can more than handle this, and you of all people should know just how important honour, courtesy, and respect are to me. They’re why I have to do this.”

Goodneighbour
May the 27th, 2288
1:39

“How’s he doing?” Annette’s face fell when she saw the exhaustion and tension MacCready had in his gait when he stepped into the kitchen. “Oh, God…”

“He finally fell back asleep,” MacCready said, turning on the stove to boil some water for coffee. “Thanks for coming by on such short notice…I think the medication helped the swelling on his back reduce enough for him to sleep comfortably.”

His mind spinning and a bit foggy, it took him a minute before he remembered where he had put the coffee beans. When he found them and pulled the tin out from the cabinet next to the sink, he paused when he realised his hands were trembling. Trying not to think much of it, he steadied himself, stood up, and closed the door with his foot before setting the tin down next to the stove. Herself anxious, Annette reached into one of her coat pockets for her cigarettes, only to quietly swear when she realised the pack was empty. How many have I had today? I could have sworn… Dropping the empty pack in the rubbish bin, she picked up her purse from the counter and began rummaging through it, letting out a sigh of relief when she found a spare, still mostly full pack. Seeing the worry still etched on his face, she pulled two out and handed one to MacCready, who gave her a small, grateful smile and quickly took the lighter from her too once she had lit her own. Slowly, the shakiness in his body began to dissipate but his mind did not relent. Duncan crying, both from nightmares and the itchiness and pain, almost broke him every time, and keeping himself calm for Duncan’s sake had, this time, been near impossible. His free hand a bit unsteady, he pulled the lid off the coffee tin and scooped the beans into the now boiling water with the spoon always kept inside the tin. Then, as it boiled, he turned back towards Annette, taking a short, unsteady draw on his cig.

“I don’t know what I’m going to do,” He said, his voice unusually quiet. “If I lose…”

“I know,” Annette said softly. “Is…” She took a draw on her cig. “Is there anything more I can do?”

MacCready hesitated. “You’ve already done so much,” He sighed. “I don’t forget sh*t – sorry, I…I mean things like that. You don’t have to –”

“I want to,” She gently cut in. “I can’t just stand still and let him suffer. He’s your world. You need him as much as he needs you, and, if there is anything I can do to help him, I want to. There has to be something we can do.”

“There’s…” He fell silent, taking another draw on his cig. “I feel horrible asking for more of you, but…God, where do I…”

“It’s alright,” She said, worried when she saw he was shaking again when he sat down on the couch on the other side of the room. “Take your time,” She turned off the stove, and leaned back against the wall near where he sat. “I can’t even begin to imagine what this has been like for you.”

“It’s been almost three years since he first got sick,” MacCready barely got out. “We were staying at the farm of one of my old friends from Lamplight, where I grew up, and he was just playing like any other toddler one day and then came down horribly sick the next. I almost didn’t bring him with me when I came up to the Commonwealth because of how weak he was but…but there was no one else who could take care of him like this. I had hoped it would eventually get better, even hoped it had been something he caught when his mother…when Lucy…”

“When she died?” Annette surmised, finishing off her cig shortly after he weakly nodded. “He really is all you had for a long time, isn’t he?”

“He is,” MacCready quietly agreed. “The…the only chance I think I might have to completely…to completely cure him is…well, over the last…year and a half, I’ve been trying to break into a place called Med-Tek Research. I’ve managed to get in a few times, but they…they never ended the way I'd hoped.”

Annette reached over to her purse and pulled out and lit another cig.

“What happened?”

“First two times I barely made it past the entrance,” MacCready dejectedly replied. “I didn’t try again for a while because…I got the information about this place from another former gunner. Sinclair. I…I thought he was wasting my time until he told me his husband broke out in blue boils, couldn’t believe, really, someone else had caught the same kind of disease.”

Annette blinked, surprised. “Really? So, there’s got to be some cure, then?”

“I…I don’t know,” MacCready said, taking off his hat to run his hands through his hair. “Sinclair’s husband died before they were able to break into the facility. All I really got from them was the building’s lockdown and access codes. But, the third time I managed to get inside, I thought I was getting close, but had to leave after I broke one of my ankles falling down a flight of stairs in there. A few months later, I went back again but…”

“It didn’t go well?” Annette shakily took a draw on her cig when she saw the pained look on his face. “How bad was it?”

“I nearly died,” MacCready went silent, almost embarrassed. “I don’t remember much of what happened, but, when I managed to stumble out of there, everything felt foggy. I started to make my way back to Goodneighbour and, on the way, ran into Cait – she’s a friend of Piper’s, and can probably tear up just about anyone in a fight – who dragged me back into town. I was confused, dazed really, for most of it, didn’t really understand why she seemed so scared.”

Annette swallowed hard. “Concussion and massive blood loss?”

“Something like that,” MacCready shook his head. “The next thing I know is I'm waking up in a lot of pain in the basem*nt of the Memory Den, with Amari hovering over me and checking just about everything, and then I heard Cait say something about how she had never seen so much blood before which is when I…when I realised why I was there. Whatever happened, it almost killed me. I…I couldn’t even bring myself to face Duncan for nearly three months after, and how could I? How could I explain that to him? I nearly f*cking – I…I’m sorry, I mean…”

“It’s alright,” Annette hesitated when he waved her over, stubbing out her cig before, slowly, stepping over to sit down next to him. “And…if it helps, you don’t have to stop yourself from cursing…honestly, it’s good for the soul.”

MacCready laughed a little. “Oh, believe me, I know,” He said though his face quickly fell. “It’s…when I left the gunners, I didn’t just do it because I couldn’t take it anymore. I did it to…after seeing Duncan almost…after seeing him almost die, it put a lot of things into perspective. I realised I…I needed to be a better parent. So, I…I left the gunners, promised him I wouldn’t swear anymore, promised I’d be around more because I…if I’m a terrible parent, then who does he even have who cares?”

“He has you,” Annette said, taking his hands in hers. “And Bobby? You are a good father. He knows you are. Anyone who has ever seen you around him knows you are. You’d do anything for him, and you are every damn day.”

“I’m trying,” MacCready said, managing a faint smile when she reassuringly squeezed his hands. “I can’t believe what…what they told me was a coincidence,” He said quietly. “Med-Tek has to be the right place.”

“And, if it’s there, we’ll find it,” She said, surprised when he suddenly tightly embraced her. “You okay?”

“I can’t believe you’re willing to…” MacCready sighed as he let her go. “Are you sure you want to do this?”

“I am,” Annette said, unsure, for a second, before softly kissing him. “When I promised you I wouldn’t say or do anything I didn’t mean, I meant it. Whatever there is to do to help your baby boy recover, I’ll help you do it.”

“Then I guess we should figure out how we’re going to do this,” MacCready said, putting his hat back on when he stood up. “And let Daisy know…God, I…I hope this works. For Duncan’s sake this…it has to.”

The Commonwealth
May the 28th, 2288
21:12

Fort Hagen.

Stepping farther into the town built around what had once been a major US military installation, Nora faltered, and, hands unsteady, zipped up her leather jacket and crossed her arms, the wind a bit cold from the rain. Rain. Much to her relief, it had only been a normal storm, albeit a long one. The little bit of rain still falling clung to her hair, and she tried to put aside the exhaustion she felt. Rain. It wasn’t the only thing leaving her feeling sick. Fear cloying at her, Nora tried to push it away, focusing on taking in their surroundings. It didn’t help. How…what…did the command here know the War would end the way it did? Or were they just as much in the dark as the rest of us? Almost frantically, a sudden need to run slammed into her, and she ran to catch up to Cait, who was knelt down in front of what seemed to be several discarded, bloodied bandages just outside the old gas station. Dogmeat furiously sniffed and prodded at them, before growling and sprinting across the street to the largest building in sight. Cait all but leapt up to follow after him but stopped in surprise when she saw the building Dogmeat had begun circling. Her eyes widened, she set her hands to her hips, and then glanced between Nora and Nick, the aged detective stepping out from within the old gas station with another small bag of evidence. Seeing him, Cait scooped up the bandages and tried to toss them to him but missed, and instead started swearing when she realised some of the blood was still fresh enough to feel faintly sticky.

“Well, sh*te,” Cait said, recoiling away from the bandages now back on the ground. “If this ain’t where the son of a bitch is shacking up, I’ll be damned. I’d rather not have touched those for nothing.”

“Knowing what I do about Kellogg, an old military base would be a good place to call home, even temporarily,” Nick frowned. “Even if the previous owners didn’t leave much behind, he could certainly make use of the place, especially if he were able to get any of its old defence protocols back online.”

“Define defence protocols,” Cait said dryly. “Because, by the looks of it, just getting in there will be a real sh*te show.”

“For one thing, some of those turrets look active, and, more to the point, new,” Nick sent her a pointed look. “Don’t get reckless, Cait. If Kellogg’s really in there, he’s not one to take lightly.”

“Guess we shouldn’t be surprised he spared no expense,” Nora said, whistling for Dogmeat to come back over to them, which he quickly did. “Although, if I remember correctly, Hagen is divided into three sections. Nate received most of his orders from superiors out of here, and I’ve been inside a couple of times, albeit for social events and not as military personnel.”

Cait turned to her in surprise. “What should we expect in there, then?”

“Assuming nothing has changed, the first floor is, at least past reception, just offices and meeting rooms. Second floor had a ballroom for socials, as well as the medical bay and cafeteria,” Nora said, pausing in thought. “The basem*nt…it was the command centre or, at least, part of it, if I remember correctly. I was never allowed in and, as far as I know, even Nate had never been let in but…”

“It would be a damn good place to hide out in if you’re Kellogg,” Nick mused. “I don’t doubt he could get inside, either. Even if some of the pre-War security had been in place to prevent people from entering, Kellogg is more than capable of finding a way to trick, bypass it, or both. I wouldn’t be surprised if someone important had dropped their ID if they were rushing to get out when they heard about the bombs, either.”

Cait snorted. “If they were so important, I reckon they’d have known what was coming. That command centre must be where all the top brass hung out while the soldiers were dying on the surface.”

“Maybe it was,” Nora said quietly, wrapping her arms tighter around herself when the wind began blowing again. “The more I think about it, the more I start to think we never stood a chance.”

“It’s a damn shame,” Nick said, looking worriedly at her. “You need a minute?”

“No, I don’t,” Nora said, briefly startled by the harshness of her voice. “If he’s in there, we have to snag him before he can get away again.”

“Yes, we do, but still –” Nick sighed when he saw the look of pained resolution on Nora’s face. “All things considered, I’d put real good money on Kellogg being in there, not only because of the security and some of it seeming new but because a place like this is somewhere you could call home long term, and, most importantly, off the grid. Don’t get the sense he’s getting many visitors out here.”

“Good,” Cait said with a slightly sinister smile. “Should make things easier for us.”

“Easy or not, if he’s in there, I don’t give a damn what it takes,” Nora said, reaching for and reloading her revolver. “He’s going to get the nastiest surprise of his life.”

“Damn right!” Cait said, taking a few steps back to look and try to get a handle on the massive building. “Think there might be a way in from up on the roof?”

“More than likely there is, but we should take that as a last resort,” Nick said grimly. “Getting up there’d be enough of a challenge on its own.”

“sh*t…” Nora sighed. “We may be stuck with that, but, if it’s even accessible, there’s a back entrance for personnel in the old parking garage. If we can get through to there and enter from that door, we’ll probably have a better chance at cornering Kellogg before he can escape.”

“Then let’s get to it,” Cait said, taking Nora’s hand, and she grinned when the woman smiled at her. “It’ll be me pleasure putting a bullet in the guy who kidnapped your son, although I can’t promise to stop at just one.”

About to say something, Nick cut himself off nearly the moment he looked over towards Nora, briefly unsettled by the look of angry resolution on her face. Kellogg is a cruel, dangerous man. The thought of him hurting someone you love would upset and wear anyone too thin. Hopefully getting answers and finding her husband and son will let her close the book on this. Holding onto and living in anger and fear isn’t healthy. A sudden feeling of guilt running through his entire being, the aged detective pushed his thoughts and judgements aside. When he turned to look at Nora again, he saw she had already started off towards the old parking garage, Cait walking beside her. Trying to shake off his worry, Nick snapped his fingers to get the attention of Dogmeat, the creature having begun to play with the dirt almost as soon as Nora had called him back to them from where he had run off to behind the former military base. Eager as ever, Dogmeat jumped up, almost as though he were a soldier standing at attention, and dutifully followed after the detective as he picked up his pace to reconvene with the lawyer and the former cage fighter. Soon enough, he found them waiting for him just inside the ground level of the old parking garage. Cait took a minute to sweetly ruffle Dogmeat’s fur around his ears, and, then, stood back up and cracked her knuckles, beginning to weave in and out of the rusted out corpses of cars never returned to or driven home, Nora and Nick no more than a few steps behind her.

Hearing the sounds of the rain beginning to grow more intense again outside, Nora shivered, relieved to, for at least the time being, be in relative shelter. Though wind drafted into the rest of the parking garage from the roof upon which just about nothing was left, it was far less disorienting and deafening. The rain no longer able to pour down on them, too, was a welcome reprieve. Still, her head beginning to ache and her body feeling far more weary than she liked, Nora briefly closed her eyes, praying they were close, uncertain if her will would be exhausted should they lose Kellogg, should he escape, should they be too late. Almost in a trance, she walked as closely behind Cait as possible, Nick never more than a few feet behind her with Dogmeat at his side. It was Cait letting out an excited war whoop, however, which drew her fully back into her body and mind. Climbing over a few of the otherwise impassable cars, careful not to injure herself on the frayed, melted, or otherwise long since deteriorated vehicles, Nora let out a sigh of relief when she found Cait waiting for her, Nick, and Dogmeat in front of a door. As soon as they were all together, the former cage fighter all but slammed herself into the door in an attempt to get it open, but instead nearly fell back onto the concrete. Nora swiftly grabbed her hands and pulled her back up to help her steady herself. Dusting herself off, Cait watched Nick closely as he tried to get the lock open, nearly succeeding a few times before taking a step back in frustration.

“Let me give it a go,” Cait said, kneeling down to be eye to eye with the lock and pulling out a handful of bobby pins and a screwdriver from her bag. “I don’t like to brag, but getting into places I’m not wanted is a talent I’ve acquired over the years.”

“I don’t doubt it,” Nick half jokingly replied. “Between you and Piper, nothing is safe from being found out or gotten into.”

“She’s a damn good lass,” Cait said, humming to herself as she worked. “One of these days, I need to teach her how to do this. Picking locks is a skill I think goes hand in hand with eavesdropping.”

Nora laughed a little. “Piper doesn’t know how to pick locks?”

“Not well,” Cait said, swearing under her breath when a pin broke. “Oh, for f*ck’s sake.”

“Wouldn’t be Kellogg’s current address if he didn’t have something to hide,” Nick wryly remarked, pulling out one of the evidence bags and removing a cigar from it for Dogmeat to get another whiff of. When he began barking aggressively, weaving around Cait as she kept fiddling with the lock, the aged detective resealed the bag with the cigar inside before slipping it back into his inner coat pockets. “Well,” He said. “Let’s hope Dogmeat’s instincts are good. Almost –”

“Aha!” Cait hopped up nearly the second the lock clicked, and, in her excitement, almost ran backwards into Nick. “Looks like we’ve got it.”

“That we do,” Nick said, slowly turning the knob and opening the door to the inside, where only a few lights were flickering near a stairwell at the end of a poorly lit corridor. “Suppose we shouldn’t be surprised the maintenance team never showed back up to work.”

“Doesn’t matter,” Nora said, taking out and ensuring her revolver was loaded. “If there’s a chance the son of a bitch is in here, then we’re going.”

“Yes, we are,” Nick said, giving the garage and the outside one last glance before following after Nora, Cait, and Dogmeat into the building. “God knows he’s evaded justice for any number of crimes long enough.”

Chapter 20: Something Evil

Chapter Text

Fort Hagen
May the 28th, 2288
23:57

Disorienting.

More than simply a byproduct of the uneven lighting and the disastrously messy corridors and rooms, trying to find their way through the former military base was disorienting because of its size.

Nothing was where it was supposed to be. Though she knew she had only been inside a handful of times before the day everything changed, before the War reached and surpassed its boiling point, the dissonance in lack of familiarity and surroundings she had, albeit briefly, once recognised was infuriating. Worse still was knowing, or, at least, feeling, they had been going in circles, up and down stairs, trying to find a way deeper into the facility for hours. Too many of the rooms looked the same, or similar enough to be misleading. A mess of memos, data, and intelligence reports printed out and bearing stains and age from over two centuries were left and littered about within what had once been a bustling military installation. The most unsettling sights amongst the mess were what remained uncovered on the desks once belonging to dedicated servicemen, Americans willing to risk their lives as spies and soldiers for their country against the Red Menace, and those in command of the base. It was seeing the photograph of General George M. Martine, his wife Hannah, and their daughter Madeline in the large office once belonging to the facility’s most senior officer, however, which caught Nora by surprise, feeling sick knowing none of them were still alive, their family forever separated, the General never able to have gone home to his wife and daughter in Duxbury one last time. What words were scrawled on a notebook left on his desk said it all. Mutually assured destruction. God bless America, or, at least, what's left of it. Tightly entwined anger and upset beating in her chest, Nora left the room the second she could, reconvening with Cait, Nick, and Dogmeat to, yet again, attempt to find their way down to the deepest parts of the building where, they suspected, the man they were hunting awaited them.

Finding the main staircase again, the lawyer, the detective, the former cage fighter, and their eager canine companion made their way down and back into the lower levels of the facility, or, at least, the ones accessible by the stairs. Guns drawn and moving slowly and quietly, Nora, Cait, and Dogmeat followed Nick through to what the detective was hoping would be the route to somewhere – anywhere – in the facility where they could descend deeper into it. Minutes passed but felt like hours, and, time feeling almost nonsensical, Nora glimpsed at her Pip-Boy every so often to check the time, her heart sinking in her chest when, soon enough, they reached midnight. Hands shaking a little, she steadied them around her revolver again, and, upon hearing Cait excitedly call her, Nick, and Dogmeat over, all but ran to where the former cage fighter was waiting, having found a hole in the wall large enough to pass through. When they were all through, the first thing they saw were an array of computer consoles, desks, chairs, and papers left hastily behind. The second thing they noticed was the sudden burst of energy blasted towards them, quickly followed by the violent and grating metallic voices of synths, synths older than Nick, and programmed with only one directive, to follow orders without question. Chaos. Her thick leather jacket nearly singed by one of the blasts, Nora ducked out of the way of several more as they were fired and began shooting at the synths almost instinctively when she dove under one of the desks to protect herself the best she could.

Aggravated by the noise and the sight of the synths, Cait let out a furious yell before firing on them as quickly and forcefully as she could with her shotgun. One by one, between her, Nora, and Nick, the synths began to fall to the floor, reduced to nothing more than faulty circuits and wires. Impatience getting the better of her, once she felt sure she wouldn’t be too badly injured by any of the synths, Cait pulled out and administered herself a dose of psycho. Then, holstering her shotgun, she pulled out her twin knives and began attacking the remaining synths in a frenzy while also taking the time to stab at the ones looking already dead to ensure they were completely beyond repair. More restrained and careful than the former cage fighter, Nick kept Dogmeat behind him while he shot down the synths charging towards him, disturbed by every word they said, every phrase they repeated over and over again. Not a moment too soon, when the synths were all destroyed beyond repair, the lawyer, the detective, and the former cage fighter paused. Careful not to hit her head against the desk as she stood up, Nora got back on her feet and reloaded her revolver, sweeping a few likely useful things into her bag, a few of them taken out of a half open trunk and a torn ammunition bag. Helping herself to whatever ammunition and chems she could find, Cait began doing much of the same after she sheathed her twin knives. Seeing an elevator lift at the other end of the room, Nick dusted himself off, reloaded his gun, and then quickly got to work on one of the computer terminals to attempt to get the lift working. Quicker than he expected, the elevator bell rang out and the doors opened. After a few seconds of hesitation, Nora, Cait, and Nick stepped into the lift with Dogmeat, pressed the button to go down to the lowest level, and waited while the rickety lift descended.

A minute later, the doors opened again into a long corridor lined with pipes and lit dimly by red and orange emergency lights. The sight alone was unsettling, but it was the light hum of electricity breaking up the otherwise abject silence which made it almost unbearable for the group when they stepped into and began down the corridor, drawing their weapons again, almost anticipating an ambush.

That was when the PA system crackled, and a voice came through and began to speak, one which left them all feeling sick as they followed the passage to the end of the corridor before beginning down a steep flight of stairs to another, deeper part of the facility’s basem*nt.

“If it isn’t my old friend, the frozen TV dinner,” The voice said with a laugh through the PA. “Last time we met, you were cosying up next to the peas and apple cobbler. Sorry your house has been a wreck for two hundred years, but I don’t need a roommate. Leave.”

“That’s our man,” Nick swore under his breath when three synths began firing on them just before they reached the last step of the stairs. “Planning something big here or is this just where you’re hiding to lick your wounds?”

“Doesn’t matter,” Nora said, her voice trembling in fury. The second the synths in their way were destroyed, the group began down another corridor, reloading their guns, and, then, she affectionately ruffled Dogmeat’s fur around his face. “Good boy. You did damn good leading us to him.”

“Never expected you to come knocking on my door,” The voice crackled through the PA’s static again, though briefly less clear than before. “I gave you fifty fifty odds of making it to Diamond City, though I'd never thought you’d make any friends when you came out of your icy tomb. Surprised it helped you get that far. But after they got you to Diamond City? Figured the Commonwealth would chew you up like jerky and spit your soft, pre-War corpse out.”

“sh*te!” Cait ripped out one of her knives and began furiously stabbing at a synth which grabbed her by the neck when it stepped out of a nearly hidden armoury. “I swear to –”

“Look, you’re pissed off, I get it, I do,” The voice said, coming through the PA, almost clear this time. “But whatever you hope to accomplish here? It’s not going to go your way. You’ve got guts and determination, and that’s admirable, but you are in over your head in ways you can’t possibly comprehend. It’s not too late. Stop. Turn around and leave. You have that option. Not a lot of people can say so and not be lying to themselves.”

“Not a chance in hell,” Nora said, tightening her grip around her gun, stepping into a large, circular office, papers and old computer terminals scattered about the room and lining the walls, a makeshift bed made out of a couch, a few pillows, and a blanket. “I’ll kill you before I give –”

“Nora,” Nick said, sighing when he saw the pain and anguish in her eyes when she turned around to look at him and Cait. “Remember, Kellogg is a professional. He won’t make this easy.”

“He doesn’t have to,” Nora said, hands tightening around her gun almost hard enough to make her bleed. “I’m not going to let him or anyone else take advantage of or manipulate me. If that means I send him back to hell, I’m going to do it.”

“She’s damn right, Nicky,” Cait said, draping one arm over Nora’s shoulders while she tucked her shotgun under the other. "He’s a real –”

“Okay, you made it. I’m just up ahead,” The voice said through the PA, the crackling interrupted by the door on the other side of the room creaking open. “My synths are standing down…let’s talk.”

Almost in a daze, exhaustion threatening her body and mind again, Nora all but stormed towards and through the door, Cait no more than a few steps behind her. Nick hesitated, for a few seconds, but quickly followed after them, whistling at Dogmeat to tell him to come along, which the dog happily did. Down the hall and then a few steps through another door, they finally reached the room Nora knew, just by stepping into it, had been the central command centre. Where Nate’s orders, by and large, came from. Where they…where the military may have been working to keep us in the dark and win the War…and look what it got us. As her hands shook around her pistol, another memory, one much older came back to her. It’s not just the metal detectors and inspections we had to go through at work…it’s the drills we had at school from the start, though I guess more so in high school, the ones for school shootings, the ones for what to do if one of our classmates turned on…if… Unsteady, she pushed the thoughts aside, grounding herself by feeling the weight of her revolver in her hands, and knowing Cait and Nick were beside her. The composure left her as quickly as it came, the man they had been tracking standing up from a desk, having been working at a computer terminal, and walking towards them, hands up in mock surrender with his gun still in one hand. Her chest tight, her heartrate spiking, and a light throbbing in her skull, Nora skidded to a halt when she saw his face. It wasn’t just his voice. It was the same face. The same scar. The same smirk. When she got closer, the feeling in her body was becoming all the more difficult to ignore, her heartrate spiking again, all but smacking into her ribcage. For a second, her chest constricted, and, she was sure, the light throbbing in her skull would become a migraine. Yet what caught her off guard was herself, her –

“f*ck you, Kellogg,” Nora’s hands tightened around the revolver in her hands, this time drawing a bit of blood from her palms and fingers. “f*ck you, and everything you do.”

“You’re a real son of a bitch, you know that?” Cait added, reloading her shotgun. “But thanks for staying in one place long enough for us to find you. Real sweet of you.”

He snorted. “How could I resist the chance to reunite with my old friend?” He turned to Nora. “Guess you’ve won something. Any questions?”

“Just the one,” Nora snapped. “Tell me where my son is, damn it, or so help me God, I’ll –”

“Right to it then? Okay. Fine,” He shrugged. “Where to begin? Well, first, your son, Shaun…great kid. So, maybe he’s not quite a baby anymore, but he’s doing great. Your boy’s not here, though. He’s in a good place, where he’s safe, and comfortable, and loved. A place he calls home. The Institute, though I imagine you might have already been thinking that might be it.”

“So, you assholes really do kidnap people,” Cait scoffed. “Sounds like a great way to endear yourselves to the Commonwealth.”

“Them? I have no idea if they’re trying to endear themselves to anyone, much less the Commonwealth. But me?” He rolled his eyes. “Trust me when I say this – I’m not interested in endearing myself to anyone, not in the Commonwealth, and not anywhere.”

“Unsurprised they’re the ones signing your pay stubs,” Nick said, a dark edge to his voice. “Never thought the proof of it would come from your mouth, though.”

“What have I got to lose?” Kellogg replied with a laugh. “You’re little more than scrap metal to the Institute, the lady with the big mouth has eyes bloodshot enough to convince me she’s got some sort of drug habit, and as for her…” He absentmindedly waved his gun at Nora. “In another life, you probably would have been a good mother, and I admire your dedication, even if it’s completely useless. I have to admit, I find myself actually kind of liking you.”

Nora scowled. “That some sort of joke?”

“Be reasonable,” Cait said when Kellogg merely looked bored and a little amused. “And, maybe, we won’t kill you.”

“If I were reasonable, I wouldn’t be doing this, now would I?” He said, looking back to Nora with a taunting smirk. “Now, I’ll let you, the f*cked up lady, and scrap metal go if you hand over five hundred caps and all of your armour, or, if not, I’ll kill you the same way I killed your husband.”

Seeing him load his pistol, Cait tackled one of the synths near him to the ground, and fired a shot through its head until it was nothing more than rubbish. Then, she ran to tackle and shoot one of the other synths. Nick fired on the synth nearest him, which began letting out the same grating phrases and comments as all of the other early model, dumb as rock synths the grizzled mercenary had set to patrol the facility. Her chest tight, her breathing constricting again, Nora began fighting Kellogg for control of his pistol, the lawyer and the cold hearted mercenary wrestling hand in hand for it. Kicking her leg up to slam into his stomach, winding him, Nora let go of him with one hand to regain her grasp on her revolver. Almost in a frenzy, Nora kicked at and tried one last time to wrench his pistol from his grasp. Unable to, she let go and steadied her revolver in both hands. Once. Twice. Thrice. Again. Once. Twice. Thrice. Her revolver fired on the man who had taken her son from her, the man who – No, please…for Shaun’s sake, please don’t have killed his… The answer, she knew, was the same as he claimed, so much as it left a sharp pain through her body. Reloaded. She reloaded her revolver and began firing on Kellogg again. Blood, thick and dark began to show itself clearly through his clothes. Violently shaking, she stepped back and barely skid out of the way of shot to the head from Kellogg’s pistol which instead hit her in the arm. She let out a shout of pain and tried to refocus on the man’s head. She fired, over and over, trying to hit him, until he began to sway before, after getting suddenly stabbed through the side by Cait and her twin knives, he fell to the ground, twitching before, finally, it was clear he was dead.

“Well, sweet dreams,” Nick dryly remarked, raising an eyebrow when he knelt down to examine Kellogg’s neck where Nora had managed to shoot him. “I never would have guessed they valued him enough to give him these.”

“What?” Nora took in a sharp breath when she looked closer at Kellogg’s body, a myriad of cybernetics visible the more pieces of his body they peeled back. “sh*t,” She said, a sharp edge slipping into her voice. “You were barely even human.”

“No kidding,” Cait agreed, beginning to decapitate him from his lower neck. “Evidence bag, Nicky?”

“If you’re taking this much, might as well take the rest of them, but we need to find a way to store and preserve them the best we can,” He said grimly. “I never thought my career would see this.”

“I’d kill him again if I had to,” Nora said, her voice cold. “He was a monster. He deserved this.”

Nick stared at her, briefly in disbelief, before sadly shaking his head.

“When we get back to Diamond City, I think I owe you a stiff drink…and, hopefully, we’ll find some way to make sense of this. We need to figure out the storage and transportation...issue, and I need to download as much information as I can from the man’s computer terminals to as many holotapes as I can…because we’re still going to do everything we can to find your son.”

The Prydwen
June the 3rd, 2288
13:30

There had been few times, even in the twenty seven years of his life he had dedicated to defending the people of the Capital Wasteland as a member of the Brotherhood Of Steel, when the occasion called for wearing the formal, military uniform blacks.

From the moment he had put them on, retired Knight Captain Derek Branson had felt strange, stranger still when he sheathed its accompanying, ceremonial sword. His wife still uneasy, he had walked hand in hand with her out just past the gates into Diamond City where the vertibird and its pilot impatiently awaited him. Once secured in the seat next to the pilot, the young man began the flight up to the Prydwen, and no words were exchanged. Seeing the Commonwealth from the air for the first time in six years was startling, and a pang of guilt broke through the retired Knight Captain’s thoughts. Just the year before we ended up here, only the year before I was left no choice but retirement and departing the former Capital, we had joked about me one day becoming a Sentinel. How much of it was, really, a joke and not a genuine aspiration? Well aware of the answer but, sure, he had still done what was right those six years earlier, he put it out of his mind. What he could not put out of his mind was the eerie feeling of seeing the Prydwen in the distance, growing ever closer, it having taken its place in the sky above what had once been the Boston Logan International Airport. A single day. The Prydwen had arrived in the Commonwealth only the day before, yet it was clear the Brotherhood had no desire to waste time. They were going to track down whomever it was they could, and would find a way to demand those who had left their ranks return. He was certain of it. Looking down at his military ID card in his hand, the retired Knight Captain let out a heavy sigh, knowing with every minute they grew closer to arrival aboard the Prydwen.

Branson, Derek Johnathan – Registration BR-109KC
Date Of Birth – April the 10th, 2235
Eye Colour – Brown
Hair Colour – Black
Ethnicity – Irish, Welsh, and Swedish
Blood Type: O Positive
Complexion – Pale White
Sex – Male
Height – 6’1”

Unease reaching out towards him again, the retired Knight Captain slipped the ID card back into one of the pockets of his coat. Feeling the vertibird beginning to slow, he looked up, took a moment to brush a thin layer of dust off his glasses, and squared his shoulders, ready to disembark the vertibird and board the Prydwen as it grew closer and closer. Minutes passed, some feeling longer than others, but, sure enough, the pilot landed the vertibird on one of the Prydwen’s docking bays. Once the team aboard the Prydwen secured the vertibird in place, the pilot cut the engine and released the safety belts strapping him in. The retired Knight Captain did the same and followed him onto the platform. Yet meeting the uncompromising stare of the man waiting for them served not to lessen his anxiety but heighten it. The pilot dismissed almost as soon as he was greeted, the retired Knight Captain stood at attention before the Prydwen’s Lancer Captain Alexander Kells who, wasting no time, curtly greeted him before ordering the retired Knight Captain to follow him inside to the Prydwen’s command deck. The Knights opened the door for them, and, so, they entered. Briefly, seeing the doors to the command deck shut surprised the retired Knight Captain, but, recalling the meeting would be closed to leadership and not an address, the notion soon left him. Another Knight opened the door into the command deck and, nearly the second both the Lancer Captain and the retired Knight Captain stepped through, swiftly shut it again.

Taking his seat at the left side of the table closest to the Elder, Lancer Captain Alexander Winchester Kells waited, a bit impatiently, for the retired Knight Captain to take his seat at the end of the table, the one closest to the door, and directly across from the Elder. Already taking notes and seated at the right side of the table closest to the Elder, Proctor Marshall Water Quinlan reviewed the information he had drawn from the Brotherhood’s internal database on the retired Knight Captain. Seated adjacent to him was Proctor Elisabeth Mischelle Ingram, in her wheelchair rather than her power armour, a decision which had surprised her close colleague and friend whom himself was sat directly across from her. Indeed, Knight Captain Aaron Ronald Cade, proudly sat next to the Lancer Captain, was almost incredulous, still, to Mischelle’s decision. More so, however, he was quite surprised to see the man they had all formally summoned to the Prydwen, having doubted the man would respond. Beside him, Proctor Keith Skyler Teagan, less than thrilled to see the retired Knight Captain, put no effort towards being personable to the man with whom he had nearly thirty years of disagreements. The disdain mutual, the retired Knight Captain frowned when his gaze and Teagan’s met, but he nonetheless sat down at the table and recomposed himself quickly. On the other end of the table from him, Elder Arthur Jonathan Maxson critically eyed the retired Knight Captain, scrutinising every movement the man made, even ones as minor as adjusting his glasses or the cuffs of his formal coat. The second the air in the room settled, he spoke.

“As I’m certain Kells would say, I’m pleased to see you haven’t forgotten the dress and decorum expected for a meeting such as this,” Maxson said before faintly smiling. “Welcome back to the Brotherhood, Knight Captain Branson.”

“Thank you, Elder,” Derek evenly replied. “If I may be so bold, what is the purpose of this meeting?”

“Is it not apparent to you?” Teagan said, his eyes narrowing. “After nearly three decades of service as a member of the Brotherhood, can you not recognise you are being called back to duty?”

“Quite right,” Quinlan said, flipping to a new page on his notepad. “Though your departure from our Order was far from graceful, you were still a valuable asset. If you were not, we would not have allowed you to retire rather than face punishment for your insubordination as well as brought you, your wife, and your four children to the Commonwealth alongside your substantial possessions as you…moved from Rivet City to Diamond City.”

“So much as I’m grateful to the Brotherhood and, yes, its leadership and previous Elders, while what you did for me and my family was the best for the six of us, it does not change my conviction my actions were justified,” Derek shook his head. “While I don’t agree with much of what the Children Of Atom say, do, or believe, and am relieved the damn nuke at the centre of Megaton was disarmed well over a decade ago, now, I don’t believe in killing people for no reason. I stand by my decision to protect them and accept its consequences."

Cade eyed him strangely. “You nearly forfeited your career,” He reminded him. “The Brotherhood needed the bomb for study, and the Children Of Atom were in the way.”

“The Brotherhood wanted the bomb for study,” Derek said curtly. “There were plenty of others identical to it in the region and, regardless, the Children’s protest was entirely peaceful.”

“It was a nuisance,” Teagan said, disgust in his voice. “If they, or farmers, or any other civilians realised what we do for them on a daily basis, they’d be lining up to help. They have no idea how good they have it, and they are not risking their lives daily for the greater good. Collateral damage is inevitable albeit regrettable. I have never understood how you could rationalise what you did.”

“You don’t have to,” Derek icily responded. He let the words settle before turning towards Maxson. “I assume this, then, is your proposing I return to the Brotherhood?”

“Yes,” Maxson said, a hint of pride in voice. “That was one incident. Your years of service apart from it were impeccable, characterised by selflessness, sacrifice, and dedication. You were part of the team which got Liberty Prime online, were one of the leaders in the Brotherhood's middle ranks the day the Brotherhood defeated the Enclave, and, once the radiation subsided, were one of the people who retrieved Sentinel Lyons’ body so her father and brother could give her a proper funeral. You are an asset to the Brotherhood, and, if we are to be successful in our mission here, we are tracking down and bringing back wayward, former soldiers, you among them.”

“If that is so, I imagine you’ll come into a great deal of resistance to it,” Derek said before letting out a quiet, dejected sigh. “Including from me.”

“Have you taken leave of your senses?” Kells incredulously exclaimed. “Are you doubting the importance of this? Or doubting we will make it quite worth it to you? I don’t imagine you would be eager to turn down promotion to Sentinel.”

“Promotion?” Derek repeated, taken aback. “I see,” He fell silent and then looked back to Maxson. “Lancer Captain Kells is correct,” He said. “I’m not eager to turn down such a promotion, but I have no other choice. Not without sacrificing my values, and not without causing unnecessary pain for my wife and our children.”

“Then why are you here?” Maxson sharply replied. “If you’re not rejoining the Brotherhood, why are you here? To challenge my authority as Elder? Or is there another more underhanded reason for it?”

“I’m here out of common courtesy,” Derek confidently said. “As I said, I hold immense respect for the Brotherhood for what you have done for me and, most importantly, my family, but I won’t be returning.”

“Common courtesy?” Ingram said, an eyebrow raised. “I suppose I shouldn’t be surprised,” She eventually said. “Although I’m sure I speak for all of us when I say I’m disappointed.”

“I am as well,” Maxson frowned. “It certainly raises concerns about the respect and affection the previous Elders had for you being misplaced. That said, I don’t believe you understand the gravity of the situation, Knight Captain Branson. Beneath the Commonwealth, there is a cancer, known as the Institute, an organisation experimenting with dangerous technologies, those which transcend the destructive nature of the atom bomb. We are here to prevent a war by starting one of our own against the Institute. As you’ve been in the Commonwealth a long while, I assume you know of them.”

“Everyone in the Commonwealth knows of the Institute, but just about no one knows much beyond the little they show,” Derek said. “They keep their cards close to the chest, and for that reason they have, I would say rightfully, earnt their reputation as the Commonwealth’s bogeyman.”

“True, though my question is more specific and pertains to someone you worked quite closely with, someone who was leading in mission control the day we defeated the Enclave,” Maxson said, surprised when the man across from him appeared confused. “Dr. Madison Li. We’re looking for her, and we suspect she’s within the Institute.”

“If that’s true, I have no way of confirming it,” Derek shook his head. “I haven’t seen Madison in a little shy of a decade.”

“If you come into contact with her, ensure she makes it to us,” Ingram told him. “We have a few special projects we’d like her to return to.”

“Also,” Maxson continued. “If you’re insistent on not rejoining the Brotherhood, I must make one thing clear: if you or your family are helping the Institute and their synths, there will be retaliation. We’re here to secure the Commonwealth, and I’m more than willing to make an example of traitors.”

“I have no such information,” Derek calmly replied, though his face fell when he saw the cold, harsh look in Maxson’s eyes. I never thought Elder Lyons’ worst fear would be realised, about Arthur’s emotional state, having been surrounded by killers and groomed to become a killer himself without a normal childhood. He’s only twenty one but… “None at all.”

“Understood,” Maxson said, breaking into his thoughts. “Thank you for your cooperation.”

“Of course. But Arthur?” He stood up once the Elder did so as well to approach him and shake hands. “You are only a few years younger than my two eldest children. I don’t look at you, now, and feel pride, but I don’t look at you, now, and feel shame either. All I want to know is something I suspect you yourself cannot answer…where did that eager yet compassionate little boy go?”

“He grew up,” Maxson said as the two men firmly shook hands. “Don’t forget what we’ve discussed.”

“Of course,” Derek said, falling silent for a few seconds. “Now you’re here,” He said as he stepped towards the door to be flown back to Diamond City. “I hope you’ll do the right thing instead of what is easy.”

The Institute
June the 3rd, 2288
15:45

“Early this morning, thanks to the swift response of our Coursers to the sudden loss of all contact, we have learnt, after decades of being one of our primary surface operatives, Conrad Kellogg is dead.”

Allowing the news to settle over the room, the entire Directorate having been convened for their weekly meeting early, Shaun looked up from the report at his father, sat on the opposite end of the table from him, the doors two metres behind him to the room shut and locked. Nate clasped his hands together, leaning forward with his elbows on the table. Keeping his hands in front of his face to hide a faint smile, Nate glimpsed at the members of the Directorate. Dr. Alan Binet, attempting to mask his relief, cleared his throat, awaiting elaboration on the unexpected news. Dr. Allison Filmore, perfectly composed, kept herself restrained but was happy to know the monster known as Conrad Kellogg was gone. Just as happy at the news, Dr. Madison Li was content with a simple, faint smirk. Nervous as ever but glad to know there were one less among the litany of things for the Institute Directorate to worry about, Dr. Clayton Holdren let out a sigh of relief. The only one in the room to be annoyed, Dr. Justin Ayo suspiciously eyed all of his colleagues, frowning when he looked to Dr. Madison Li, who narrowed her eyes when she realised he was looking at her. With one last look over the Directorate, Shaun flipped through the report file before, finally, speaking again.

“While previously we, in most cases, relied on Kellogg for our above ground operations, we will have to change how we approach those situations,” Shaun said, skimming through the report until he found what he was looking for. “As reported by the Courser designated X3-27, Conrad Kellogg was killed in the command centre of what had once been the US Army base Fort Hagen, where he had been preparing to enter the Glowing Sea.”

“The Glowing Sea?” Alan said, completely incredulous. “Why on earth would he be preparing to enter such an inhospitable location?”

“Kellogg believed the synth who stole Dr. Virgil’s data went to the Glowing Sea,” Shaun explained. “It seems he has been killed, and well before he had finalised his plan to track down the rogue synth.”

“So,” Clayton said. “I can’t say I’m not happy to know our most…troublesome surface operative is gone.”

“I have to agree,” Madison said, an eyebrow raised when the file was handed to her by the Director. “He was one of the worst threats to Institute security, not to mention his aggressively violent nature.”

“Kellogg always was a cold bastard,” Allie noted. “If you ask me, we’re better off without him. Things topside can be dealt with more effectively and securely by Institute personnel, with or without the escort of a Courser.”

“Absolutely,” Madison said with a short nod. “With the Brotherhood, I’m sure, waiting for the nearest chance to attack, having someone as unpredictable as Kellogg in the field would be a disaster waiting to happen.”

“I hope you’re not forgetting the new burden this will place on the SRB,” Justin condescendingly told her. “Kellogg was an issue for the Directorate as a whole. With him gone, the SRB is now carrying all of the weight of ensuring our surface operations go smoothly.”

“Yes, Dr. Ayo, we’re all well aware,” Madison coldly replied. “I have to ask,” She said, turning back to Shaun. “The report suggests a rogue synth was partially responsible for his death but doesn’t specify which unit was involved. Was it one of the first and second generation synths he had with him when using Fort Hagen as his…compound?”

“Or did one of our escaped third generation synths cause this mess?” Justin sent a sharp glance towards Alan. “As the rate of escapes has not seemed to decrease much of late despite supposedly clear results from Robotics’ tests on them to ensure they are not defective.”

“The synth involved is one the Institute has no reason to reclaim,” Nate calmly interjected. “It has the designation N1-33, but was not logged in the Institute’s database after 2150 when it escaped, apart from a note signifying, in 2230, it was found to be living in Diamond City under the name ‘Nick Valentine’ which was the name of a pre-War police officer whose information and memories had been implanted into the synth as an early, failed attempt to bridge the second generation synth programme into the current, robust third generation synth programme.”

“As confirmed by reports from M7-62, ‘Nick Valentine,’ departed from Diamond City after having apparently found a renewed interest in Kellogg,” Shaun continued, inclining his head slightly towards his father. “Our understanding is ‘Nick Valentine’ found Kellogg, confronted, and killed him, likely in retribution for one of the many known atrocities Kellogg has committed over the years.”

“His known atrocities barely scratch the surface, I’m sure,” Madison said, her nose wrinkling in disgust at the thought of the man. “For someone who was active as long as he was, and who was given as many experimental treatments as he was, the probability of him being even more of a monster than we know is quite high, disturbingly high, even.”

“I have to concur,” Clayton shook his head. “Speaking for my Division, I can say we in Bioscience were more than eager to have him removed from field operations, not only because of the fact he’s, as I believe Dr. Filmore said a few months ago, a violent menace but because our work in life saving cybernetics was being held back significantly by tailoring all of our research to fit one incredibly unique subject. Kellogg was unusually tall at 6’8” and also had significantly weaker than average lungs as a result of decades of exclusively smoking cigars, not to mention his high blood pressure.”

“He was also analysed by psychiatrists out of your Division, was he not?” Alan said, his face grim when Clayton nodded. “If I remember the report correctly, Kellogg was diagnosed, after several evaluations by at least five of our top psychiatrists over the years, as having Narcissistic Personality Disorder, symptoms of PTSD, and an overall lack of empathy. I can only imagine how atypical his brain chemistry and shape must have been, especially when considering his age.”

“Another excellent point, thank you, Dr. Binet,” Clayton said with a grateful look to his colleague. “And, speaking for myself, Kellogg was quite the unsettling presence to be around, and his behaviour has more than once almost killed Institute personnel. I apologise for bringing it up, but the incident last August where he pushed Dr. Filmore through a glass window on the second floor into one of the concourses was…”

“A result of him being informed myself, you, and Dr. Li had written a joint memo asking for a reassessment of his capacity to handle himself topside without risking our operations and personnel,” Allie said, a hint of bitterness in her voice. “Which, I understand, the person responsible for doing so has not been able to be identified.”

“Unfortunately, yes,” Nate said shortly. “We did, however, suspend Kellogg’s interactions with anyone in the Institute to the bare minimum afterwards, considering the serious danger he proved himself to be.”

“Seeing as I needed stitches nearly all the way up and down my right arm, broke my left wrist and left leg, and had a concussion, yes, I would say he was dangerous,” Allie wryly remarked. “As I said, he was a cold bastard, and we are better off without him.”

“Yes, good riddance,” Alan chipped in. “Might I ask – was this old and, I presume, discarded synth the only one responsible for Kellogg’s demise?”

“That matter is to be investigated,” Shaun said evenly. “As for now, we will find ways to compensate for Kellogg now he’s dead. More pertinent, as you are all well aware, the Brotherhood Of Steel have officially entered the Commonwealth with their army and, most concerningly, their entire upper leadership, including their Supreme Commander here on the East Coast.”

“His name is Arthur Maxson,” Nate put in. “He’s one of the last descendants of the Brotherhood’s founder, Roger Maxson, whom I met, by chance, twice before the War, as he was a captain in the army of the United States.”

“Fascinating,” Alan said, barely masking his awe. “Though I imagine their current leader is…”

“He’s twenty one but nevertheless a formidable leader,” Nate elaborated. “He was granted the rank of Elder at the age of sixteen, and, apparently, defeated a deathclaw by his own hands at the young age of thirteen. Regardless, our intelligence has shown he’s quite well liked, and an inspiring leader who has the support of all the other members of the Brotherhood’s upper leadership.”

“Well, that’s disturbing,” Madison darkly observed. “How much do we know of their activities at the moment?”

“They’ve taken over and established their base of operations at the former Boston Logan International Airport,” Shaun said, irritation slipping into his voice. “Which is surprisingly convenient for us, knowing they have one place from which they’re carrying out their operations. Although we have noted they are also present at the former Cambridge Police Station, much closer to home, and thus I have sent out the order to all Divisions for immense caution.”

“Good,” Allie said. “The last thing we need is for a preventable security breach topside to give the Brotherhood any true look into our capacities, or location. Considering they acquired one of our third generation synths – and an early model Courser, no less – being as discrete as possible is even more of a must. While things internally are as tight as they’ve ever been, the Brotherhood’s presence at all complicates things topside.”

“They do,” Clayton said, rubbing his neck. “The former airport is closer to Warwick than I’d like, too.”

“All matters we’ll address in due time,” Shaun reassured him. “Their acquisition of S3-47 is deeply troubling, not the least of which being because they now have, in their possession, one model of each of our three synth generations.”

“Oh, dear, I nearly forgot about what happened at University Point amid the chaos of their arrival,” Alan said, paling. “Speaking of which, is our outpost there secure and the residents, of course, safe?”

“Yes,” Nate said with a slight smile when he looked at Madison. “Dr. Li was able to confirm such when she escorted Miss Spencer to visit her father for the girl’s seventeenth birthday. We’re also receiving daily reports from X6-88, and are prepared to take decisive action if necessary to defend the location.”

“Regarding the Brotherhood, other than keeping ourselves hidden from them or, at least, our whereabouts, we also have the massive security threat of their…project referred to as Liberty Prime, one which they appear to preparing the gantry necessary to support such a large scale construction,” Shaun said grimly. “As such, I am ordering all resources possible to be directed towards the completion of Phase Three, including by means of sourcing potentially useful pre-War technology. I understand it may sound as though we’re cutting corners, but the reality is we have the capacity to seamlessly integrate pre-War technology to complete Phase Three if necessary, and must be prepared to do so on, potentially, drastically short notice.”

Chapter 21: Something Left

Chapter Text

Diamond City
June the 4th, 2288
12:21

“Oh, what fresh hell is this?”

For Dr. Lorainne Jennifer Scara, very little was more aggravating than people suddenly and loudly entering her office. To see not one but five people and a dog be the ones to burst in uninvited was close to being a criminal offence. She cut herself short, beginning to tell them off, however, when she saw what they were carrying.

Almost speechless, she pushed through them to start down the stairs, all but yelling at everyone who was not in a lab coat to leave the Science! Centre until further notice. Uncomfortably waiting at the top of the stairs, Nick, Nora, Cait, Piper, and Ellie kept exchanging nervous glances, punctuated every so often by Dogmeat affectionately rubbing his head against one of their legs. All but throwing her hands up in exasperation, Scara waved them down and ordered them to put what they had been carrying down on the large table in the middle of the room, pushing aside the notebooks, pens, pencils, calculators, and whatever else the others had left behind in their rush out of the building. Tired just from looking at the things, Scara briefly closed her eyes, pinching the bridge of her nose, before, finally, calling her wife over to take a look. In a much more cheerful mood than her wife, Dr. Amelia Alexis Duff simply set down her notes, told the teenage boy with dark curly hair to continue taking observations for her, and came over. When she opened one of the larger containers they had set on the table, she grimaced, removing what seemed to be a human arm, and, then, torso, raising an eyebrow when she looked at Cait, Nora, and Nick in particular.

“I’m going to go ahead and assume you three brought us pieces of a body and not the whole body for a reason, but I’m very unclear as to what that reason is.”

“This is…or, more accurately, was Kellogg,” Nick explained. “Turned out he was, in fact, the one who kidnapped Nora’s son…and killed her husband.”

“That doesn’t answer the question,” Duff sent him a pointed look. “Why did you bring us pieces of the man’s body?”

“A couple of reasons,” Nick said, adjusting his fedora. “First, in that big box, the one with ice all around a smaller box inside it? That’s the old merc’s head, and we need to preserve it.”

Scara raised an eyebrow. “To what end?”

“There are some…cybernetic enhancements in it, at least, we’re pretty sure,” Nora almost breathlessly told her. “Nick has a friend in Goodneighbour, but it might be a while before we can see her, and we need to preserve his head and brain inside it intact as best we can until then.”

Scara frowned. “How do you propose we do that, then?”

“We can cryogenically freeze and store it,” Duff said, smiling when her wife tentatively nodded. “Do we have the machine to do so still here?”

“It’s in my office,” Scara said, warily looking at Piper and Cait. “After having been misused last year by the two of them and Piper’s wife in an attempt to freeze dry leaves for some God forsaken reason.”

“In our defence, we were very drunk!" Piper nervously called up to her as she went up the stairs with the large box in hand. “It won’t happen again!”

“No sh*t it won’t happen again,” The teenage boy muttered before turning to scowl at her. “You, Lissy, and Cait are a menace to society, and it’s worse if Vadim gets involved…or if any of those power armour geeks from near Quincy do.”

Piper rolled her eyes. “Sweet as always, Emmett.”

“Some of us actually try to do work,” He replied, turning back to his and Duff’s experiment. “Alright, so add the…”

“Let me get this straight,” Duff put the pieces of Kellogg’s body back in the box. “You need to preserve the brain so – I’m guessing Amari, right? – it can be examined by a neurologist. I don’t want to know why, and I don’t want to know how. But the rest of him? Why did you bring all of this with you? I’m guessing it was a long way back to Diamond City from wherever the three of you went…” She laughed, for a moment, when Dogmeat let out a sad whimper. “Well, wherever the three of you and the cute little dog went. Why go through all this trouble to bring back a body when I’m guessing you three killed him?”

“Well, first, can you take any samples of what remains of his skin, bones…anything really to tell us how old he is?” Nora sighed when Duff eyed her in confusion. “We…he had some…very inconsistent documents in his house, and we…we’re not sure if he’s as old as he looked.”

Duff shrugged. “It might take a little, but that we can do fairly easily. Still doesn’t explain why you –”

All but jumping out of her skin when the doors to the Science! Centre suddenly opened, Duff rolled her eyes and swore at herself under her breath when she saw it was only Codsworth, followed by Lana Marie, her favourite student’s eldest sister. With a slight smirk, Lana Marie walked over to where her brother was working and sat down next to him, waiting for him to notice. When he did, he briefly freaked out, having been so focused he hadn’t noticed anyone had come near let alone sat down next to him. He scowled, and the two siblings stuck their tongues out at each other before crossing their arms and frowning at each other. Codsworth, thrilled to see Nora after not seeing her for a month, eagerly greeted her, happy when she smiled and started talking with him, herself relieved to find something was still normal. Cait spun on her heel to join them, wrapping an arm over Nora’s shoulders, something the lawyer was more than happy to lean into. Still lost and disturbed when she opened two of the other boxes to find more of Kellogg’s body parts, Duff glanced between Nick, Piper, and Ellie. Mostly happy to have the detective home safe, Ellie was standing beside Nick, and, every so often, their hands would entwine and then untwine, almost in a dance. Piper, almost too curious, pulled a chair over and hopped up onto it so she could get a better look inside the boxes laid out on the table. She gagged nearly the moment she saw the contents, but then went almost eerily silent, staring at something visible from under a partially cut open section of the dead mercenary’s chest.

“Wait, wait…” She waved Duff over, who, having put a new pair of gloves on, quickly did. “Can you peel back a bit of the…skin and…can you peel that back? I think there’s something in there.”

“There absolutely is,” Duff said, opening a drawer and removing a pair of tongs. Lighting a fire on a bunsen burner, she let the fire disinfect the tongs before, finally, she came over and peeled back layers of skin and muscle until what Piper had noticed became visible. “Holy sh*t! That looks – Lori! I need you to come down here, now!”

“What the hell is it now?” Scara’s eyes widened in surprise when she stepped out of her office and saw the look on her wife’s face. Carefully removing the head from the freezing container and moving it to the small, cryogenic storage box in her office, she checked to ensure it was secure, the box was on, and the freezing device was off before running down the stairs. “Is that part of his –”

“Not naturally,” Piper said dryly. “Unless you cangrow metal and circuitry inside yourself.”

“If there’s a way to do it, think I’d have figured it out by now,” Nick said with a light chuckle. “But,” He said, levity leaving his voice. “From the looks of it, that’s Institute technology.”

“It absolutely is,” Scara said, snapping her fingers to get the attention of Nora, Cait, and Codsworth. “I have to ask – how the hell did you come across this man?”

“We went head hunting for him,” Cait chirpily replied, giving Nora an affectionate squeeze when she laughed for a second. “Brought back pieces as a trophy, and figured we could sell whatever we couldn’t use for caps on the side. Preferably for fun things. My go to recommendation for a fun time is beer, daytripper, and minimal clothes…with the right people, of course.”

Scara shuddered at the thought. “Your eccentricities aside, I…” She turned to her wife. “Didn’t we have something from the Institute pass through here a few months ago.”

“You did,” Emmett said, safely pausing the experiment to look between her and Duff. “There was this odd looking knife attached to the kind of gun you only ever see those really old, creepy synths with. I’m pretty sure it’s filed away as to be analysed once you’re freed up from teaching for the summer.”

“Thanks,” Scara reached into her lab coat and pulled out a set of keys, approaching one of the large filing cabinets. “Do us all a favour, please, and write down what…pieces of the man they brought back with them. It might as well be documented.”

“On it!” He said, sweeping up his notebook and pen, then approaching the table while Ellie and Nick took the tops off the other two boxes. “So, in the first one, there’s most of his torso and his left arm. Where’s…” He swore when he looked into the box nearest him. “God damn it, that’s…” He looked over at Cait. “Did you shank him while he was alive or after you guys killed him for the hell of it?”

“What?” Cait went unusually quiet, thinking. “You know, I’m not quite sure. All I know is I was the one who did the cutting up. Nick was the one trying to carefully preserve things and Nora didn’t seem up to any of it at all.”

“I wasn’t,” Nora sighed. “Thanks, Cait, for doing that. It probably was the only…relatively safe way to get it back here and decently preserved.”

“Well, apparently in this box, they have his legs, and that’s as much as I’m willing to inspect right now,” Emmett shook out his long, dark curls. “Promise you won’t ever do this to me, Cait. Getting threatened to be shanked as a kid at school was enough.”

Cait snickered. “Intimidated them with your intelligence?”

“No, the kid was just an asshole,” Lana Marie said, a mischievous glint in her eyes when she ruffled her brother’s hair, relenting only when he protested long enough. “It’s crazy his mother didn’t back down when dad – a high ranking member of the Brotherhood – confronted her about the incident but she did back down after mom came over and confronted her.”

“You make it sound like mom’s a dainty little, soft spoken lady,” Emmett rolled his eyes. “I don’t care if dad thinks I shouldn’t say it – she can be a really scary bitch sometimes.”

Lana Marie shrugged. “Either way, I’m guessing mom said some very choice things to her, which is reasonable because the kid’s mother was saying there was no way her kid would threaten to shank you with a homemade knife and shiv even though Rivet City Security caught it on camera.”

“I’m just glad we at least got out of there and away from all the Brotherhood bullsh*t,” Emmett muttered, turning back to the last box and raising an eyebrow. “Alright, so you have his right arm in here and…his severed feet? Cait, why the hell –”

“A bloke once showed me a pre-War movie where this guy and his girlfriend opened up the back of a car to find a bunch of severed feet tied together like a necklace on giant chains,” Cait winked. “Thought I’d try it…and I was also very, very high. Nicky took me fun chems away from me, too.”

“Taking daytripper before we got back to Diamond City could have been a disaster waiting to happen, Cait,” Nick shook his head. “Try and go easy on the chems. I think we’re all a little worn out, certainly after dealing with Kellogg of all people.”

“Fine, fine,” Cait said, blowing at her bangs when they fell in front of her eyes. “Either way the son of a bitch deserved what he got.”

“He did,” Nora said quietly, anger simmering on the edge of her words. “And hopefully this doesn’t lead to another dead end.”

“If we’re dealing with the Institute, then prepare yourself for that,” Scara cautioned her, removing the knife and the gun from storage. “They’re probably going to be furious when they learn you’ve done away with one of their guys. Institute agents, I’m sure, aren’t easy to come by, and certainly not with the record, I imagine, Kellogg had.”

“His record is part of why we need you to find out his age,” Nick said. “Some of what we found in the old merc’s home were dated before 2230.”

“Before 2230?” Scara dubiously repeated. “I wouldn’t put it past the Institute to be able to keep someone alive well beyond a normal human lifespan, but if you mean active as a…no, you know what? You could tell me they’ve mastered teleportation and I’d believe you. I’m not convinced there’s much the Institute isn’t capable of.”

“Can I take a look at that?” Piper, after putting on gloves, lifted up the knife, only to set it down in shock and taking her camera out of her bag. “There’s a serial number on there! One I’ve –”

“You’ve seen an Institute serial number before?” Duff stared at her in disbelief. “Where? How?”

“I didn’t know for sure it was an Institute serial number at the time, but, about a year and a half ago, I saw McDonough with this strange looking device, almost like a holotape!” Piper excitedly babbled. “I managed to get a closer look at it, and a few pictures, before I was…okay, so that was the incident leading to me getting banned from the mayor’s office, but the point is if this is made by the Institute and this is how they keep track of things, then odds are McDonough’s device was also Institute made!”

“Do you still have those pictures?” Nick smirked when she nodded. “Keep digging. I think you’re close to catching him with no room for doubt soon.”

“Whatever the case, it seems this device in Kellogg’s chest is immensely complex,” Duff noted. “We’re going to need extra time to look at them before we can tell you much more than that. And his age, of course.”

“Either way, let’s hope we can find some way to show the Institute we’re not useless idiots who just happen to have read a few textbooks,” Scara said bitterly. “I’m tired of them assuming they’re the only intelligent people left in the Commonwealth.”

Cait raised an eyebrow. “Sounds personal. They try to recruit you and then drop you or something?”

Scara snorted. “If only. My dumbass of a brother in law just about sold my niece to the Institute because she found some pre-War files in their shanty town. I’ve seen her once since then, and she’s changed. Not in a replaced way, but in a ‘you don’t understand me because I’m a teenager’ way. It was too damn much, and, frankly, the fact they took her and only her tells me they only care if you’re a prodigy or have something they want. As for Gerald, he can go to hell for this. If Josie were still alive, at least she wouldn’t have let this happen.”

“The Institute took your niece?” Nora said, a bit shaken when she nodded. “I…I’m so sorry. I…”

“Don’t be,” Scara said, raising a hand to silence her. “You have enough to worry about on your own. They may have taken my niece, but she’s a teenager. They took your son, who’s a baby, and killed your husband. No matter how anyone puts it, you have it worse.”

“He…sir is dead?” Codsworth went quiet, dampening his systems. “He’s…he’s really gone? Oh, and young Shaun, he…he’s –”

“He’s wherever the Institute is,” Nora snapped, taking a step back when she heard the anger in her voice. “Codsworth I…I’m sorry. I’m not upset with you, it’s…”

“I know, Miss Nora, please don’t worry,” Codsworth said, removing something from a small bag and handing it to her. “I know you might not want to hear this, right now, but…the day before the War, sir and young Shaun made a holotape for you. I believe sir was going to give it to you on your birthday, November the seven –”

“My…” Nora shakily took the holotape from him before sitting down. “Oh my God…” She whispered. “I didn’t even…I forgot about my…my twenty fifth birthday, I…”

“You were going through a lot,” Piper reassured her. “It’s alright to forget things. Hell, if it weren’t for my computer terminal’s calendar, I’d probably never know which day of the week it is off the top of my head.”

“Half the time I can’t find matching socks,” Cait added, sitting down beside and loosely embracing her when she saw Nora was starting to cry. “Or,” She said when Nora began crying into her. “Sometimes I can’t find a bra to match me underwear. If I ain’t feeling the mix and match, sometimes I’ll forego one or the other.”

Nora weakly laughed through tears. “Are you just saying that to try and cheer me up?”

“Far be it from me to lie to a sweet lass like yourself,” Cait replied, sweetly brushing the lawyer’s hair with her fingers. “But I’m glad it helped a little. What’s been done to you is just cruel.”

“I...I can’t believe…” Nora whimpered through tears. “I turned twenty five and didn't even…I’m closer to twenty six than I…my baby’s almost a year old without me and his father…my…my husband is gone and…”

“And it’s too bloody unfair,” Cait sighed, holding the lawyer securely in her arms while she began to sob. “We’ll find the c*nts who did this to you, and we’ll find your baby. They’ll pay…even if it takes time.”

Med-Tek Research
June the 5th, 2288
13:17

The inside of what had once been one of Med-Tek Laboratories’ most advanced medical research facilities was no prettier than it was on the outside, nearly two centuries with nary a visitor, staff member, or resident having taken its toll on the formerly robust and bustling facility.

Though most of the feral ghouls outside the facility had looked to be dead, the two of them paranoid about something going wrong, Robert Joseph MacCready and Dr. Annette Christine Davis shot them all a few times, just the same as the other ferals which came out from around a myriad of places from the nearby streets to the former parking garage around the other side of the building. After a few minutes of fighting with the computer terminal on the wall beside the side entrance, the system loaded enough to be able to have the password typed in. The keys rather sticky from years of dirt, dust, and grime, controlling them well enough to enter the password correctly was an equally slow and frustrating process. Still, the system, after nearly twenty minutes of struggling, accepted the password and opened the command functions. His hands shaking, MacCready jabbed at the buttons of the computer terminal until they reached and activated the command to unlock and open the side door into the facility. The second the locks on the doors clicked and detached, he stepped inside, Annette beside him, both of them with guns drawn. Quietly making their way to the main entrance hall, hoping to not alert anyone or anything of their presence, the doctor and the former gunner paused briefly in the main lobby, startled by its size and the signs someone or something had apparently tried but failed to get deeper into the facility relatively recently. Once sure they were still alone, MacCready went over to the computer terminal on what was once the front desk and, after a minute of fighting with it, managed to get into it and turn the lights and power to the facility back on.

The sounds of cracking and popping rang out through the old building, and bright, almost painful fluorescent lights slowly turned on, if broken in places. The sound of an elevator ringing reverberated nearby. Lost for a couple of minutes and caught off guard by some feral ghouls, MacCready and Annette fought through the ghouls back to back, only relaxing the tiniest bit when the ferals all laid dead on the floor. A few minutes of trying to find their way later, the two of them reached the elevator, stepped inside, and began the descent down to the facility’s sublevels. When the doors to the elevator opened again, anxiety seizing him, he suddenly grabbed Annette’s free hand. She turned to him, worried but reassuringly squeezed his hand, cold like always but feeling less so when her warm hand wrapped around his. He only let go of her hand when, the sound of ferals roaming nearby, he drew and reloaded his sniper rifle. Walking beside him, Annette kept her hands anxiously tapping around her small handgun. A feral coming from around the corner and down into the corridor they were taking the steps down into caught them by surprise, and they quickly began firing on it only for more to come running. The second the ferals were all dead, the doctor and the former gunner reached the last of the stairs and began down the corridor.

Reaching a door only to find it was locked, Annette swore under her breath and pulled a bobby pin out of her hair, fiddling with the lock until it clicked open. For a few seconds, the door remained stuck, but, after MacCready and Annette forcefully kicked it at the same time, it was pried forward enough to be opened. They stepped through it quickly, and into a much larger corridor. Close to where they stepped out was the entrance to a large room which, in the inconsistent light of the facility, appeared to be either a laboratory, an autopsy theatre, or both. On the wall, by the door, was a computer terminal, which, to his relief, was able to be accessed by one of the passwords he had been given by Sinclair. The system a bit slow, when it finally came online, MacCready began searching for the menu to open the door to the room. He clicked the button to open it as soon as he found it, and went to open the door only to stop short when he heard Annette scream from just a few feet behind him. A feral having tightly wrapped its arm around her legs, Annette shot at it a few times to try to scare it off but it only grabbed onto her tighter. His mind racing, heartrate spiking, and instinct seizing him, MacCready began shooting at it too but, suddenly terrified he would accidentally shoot Annette, dropped his gun and ran over to her, reaching down to try and rip the feral off of her. Annette already having lost her grip on her gun turned as best she could to try to grab onto one of the ghoul’s hands and tear it off her. After a few minutes of struggle, they pulled the feral ghoul off of her, and, taking out his knife, MacCready stabbed it until it stopped moving, dead.

It was too much but, when he looked up, he realised they were once again alone, not a ghoul in sight.

Badly shaking, MacCready stayed on the floor, for a minute, trying to calm himself down. Annette, barely aware of it, was swaying lightly too, dizzy. When he felt well enough to get back on his feet, MacCready sheathed his knife and began to pull himself up off the floor, only to accidentally knock Annette over in the process. Panic tugging at him again, he quickly went to help her up, only for exhaustion to overtake him. For a minute, the two of them laid on the floor, side by side, looking up at the ceiling. Closing her eyes, Annette reached for and managed to find and hold onto MacCready’s hand, feeling a little calmer when he gently squeezed hers back. His own thoughts all but torturing him, MacCready held onto her hand as long as he could, more relieved than he could say for them both being alright. When he eventually let go, he rolled over onto his side to make sure she wasn’t hurt. Almost the second he was sure she wasn’t, he turned back to her, taken aback when she smiled at seeing his face again. Not taking a second to think, MacCready leaned down to kiss her, something Annette was all too happy to accept, loosely wrapping her arms around his neck. After they broke their kiss, he helped her back onto her feet, and they picked up their guns again before opening and stepping through the door. Flicking on the lights, MacCready took a small step back when he saw the state of the room and, equally shocked, Annette gasped.

“Oh, God,” Annette horrified, hesitantly stepped towards one of the autopsy tables in the centre of the room. “I don’t think I even want to know what they did to preserve a corpse this…well for so long.”

“I don’t think I do either,” MacCready said, though his eyes widened when he saw the, albeit darker, bloodied, and clearly decaying, boils left on the skin of the corpse. “Is that…”

“Subject Q7-285,” Annette read off the toe tag on the body. “Is the computer terminal over there still working?”

“Looks like it,” MacCready said, pulling over a chair and turning the device on. “Should I search the files for what’s written on the tag?”

“Yes,” Annette replied, stepping around to the largest table in the room, medical supplies littered on it. “I don’t recognise most of these. If one of them could be a treatment for what that person died from, I’d put serious money on it being the treatment for what Duncan’s experiencing.”

“The data stored on here says Subject Q7-285 was ‘used to finish developing PREVENT, a preventative and treatment for disease M39QF2, which subject was infected with…’” MacCready fell silent in disbelief. “They created this too? Why the hell would anyone do that?”

“If I had to guess, biological warfare. But…here!” Annette picked up a large case labelled ‘PREVENT’ and carefully opened it before pulling out her thin, red oval rimmed glasses and bringing the instructions left inside close to her face, the half working fluorescent lights making it difficult to read the already badly scuffed procedural documents. “First dose is a dead version of the virus, second is a standard conjugate vaccine, and the third is an attenuated vaccine, meaning it’s a weakened form of the live virus, or, I should say, viruses. It seems this is a deliberately modified form of one of if not all of the diseases prevented by the MMR vaccine.”

MacCready eyed her strangely. “What’s MMR?”

“Shorthand for measles, mumps, and rubella. In the Vault, we all received a combined MMR vaccine as part of our childhood immunisation schedule,” Annette elaborated, putting the glass bottles containing the three doses back in their secured container. “Up until we were eighteen, we were vaccinated against a myriad of diseases, a surprising number of which went extinct after the War, most notably being smallpox – though that had technically been extinct before the War – polio, bacterial, fungal, and parasitic meningitis, and rabies, although, for that last one, immunisations were only given if one were suspected to have potentially come into contact with it. Better safe than sorry was what my dad said.”

“Guess the War did something good then,” MacCready said dryly. “Getting rid of some diseases was so nice of them to do.”

Annette laughed a little. “Given the horrific things the ones I listed could do to a person, I have to agree. As for this, why Med-Tek were experimenting with a modified and, apparently, more potent set of the MMR viruses is something I can’t explain. All in all, it sounds like a horrible idea…and, considering it clearly escaped their facilities, I’d say it was. My understanding is they also contributed to at least one of the forms of the virus responsible for creating super mutants, too, so I suppose this isn’t too shocking.”

“Do you by chance have access to the vaccines you received in the Vault as a kid?” He let out a sigh of relief when she nodded. “Is there any chance you can administer them to him too?”

“Provided this works – and because it’s the most immediately life threatening, it should be done first – then yes. I’d also like to administer them to you,” Annette replied, relieved when he nodded. “Good. Last thing I want is for either you or him to come into contact with something completely preventable.”

“So then…” MacCready stared at the metal container with the cure inside when she gave it to him. “This is it?”

“I think so,” Annette said, delicately setting a hand to his shoulder when she saw he was starting to cry. “I have clean and disinfected needles to administer it to him with back in Goodneighbour. Whenever –”

“Thank you,” MacCready suddenly tightly embraced her, relieved when she held onto him just as tight. “He’s…he’s going to be okay. I can’t…no, let’s go. The sooner this gets to him, the better. I…he’s alright. He’s going to be alright.”

The Prydwen
June the 7th, 2288
10:01

“Our mission in the Commonwealth, I would say, has been quite successful, thus far,” Danse said, standing at attention before the Elder and the Lancer Captain with his most trusted Scribe and Knight beside him. “It did not go as anticipated, nor were we able to recover much of the work or, indeed, any members of Paladin Brandis’ team, but we’ve nonetheless learnt a great deal about the Commonwealth and the Institute.”

“I too would consider your mission a success thus far,” Lancer Captain Kells agreed as he, Maxson, the Paladin, the Scribe, and the Knight sat down at the table in the closed room of the command deck. “Especially now you’ve been able to hand over the remains of those synths you disabled at that town.”

“University Point is very much on our radar because of you as well,” Maxson said with a faint smile. “I for one am quite pleased to know you not only took out the synths infiltrating the town but made their people aware of us. I only wish they hadn’t been so resistant to it. Why they defended the Institute is beyond me.”

With a short nod and a near flawlessly neutral countenance, Knight Laurent George Rhys felt nothing short of pure pride and contentment fill his chest, receiving praise from the Elder something he fully dedicated himself to. Herself pleased but her mind quickly reviewing the reports she had written throughout their time in the Commonwealth before the Prydwen’s arrival, Scribe Janet Isla Haylen found herself hoping they would be given the opportunity to return to the town called University Point. With the full might of the Brotherhood behind them, she was certain, the town’s people would realise they had nothing to fear from the Institute. Perhaps, even, they could rescue the young girl the Institute had ripped away from her father. Fury crept into her thoughts, the knowledge the Institute were using a young girl as leverage and occasionally trotted her out to see her father to keep a town in line was sickening. Just as sickening had been the sight of the synths controlling the town and its people for the Institute, their grating mechanical voices and movements enough, she was sure, to give anyone nightmares. So much has he had been eager to hide it, she knew they had the exact effect on her close colleague, Rhys having been on edge every time he awoke to the sound of metal scraping metal in any manner close to the way it had when the synths moved or spoke. As for their commanding officer, Paladin Jackson Roger Danse was himself proud, not only of them and their work but of the way they had, despite setback after setback, stuck it out until the Prydwen arrived, until they could give their final report, until they could receive new orders. They had succeeded, the optimal outcome achieved.

And damn did it feel great.

“Your retrieval of the synths from University Point has given us a critical edge on the Institute,” Kells said, turning on the table’s projector and scanning in the file. “As noted, there appear to be three models of ‘synths,’ each under a different ‘generation’ by the Institute, with the ‘first generation’ synths being the most primitive and the ‘third generation’ synths being all but indistinguishable from us.”

“I apologise for us not having been able to find out the way to identify synths as done so by the town of Covenant,” Rhys said, his voice even despite the disdain he felt recalling the events. “Though I have no proof and could likely be wrong, I do wonder if Dr. Davis did something to throw us off out of spite, if she somehow knew we are soldiers of the Brotherhood Of Steel.”

“Unfortunately, I would be unsurprised,” Maxson shook his head. “Her temperamentality is part of why the urgency to re-recruit her is minimal. She’s a deeply emotionally unstable person. According to what we’ve learnt from those living in the Vault she had – cowardly, I might add – run to after the Enclave’s defeat, she’s a selfish, angry mess of a person with mild alcohol issues and a habit of smoking at least a pack of cigarettes a day. That said, I still believe it is most likely the town drew its own conclusions on what you were doing and actively prevented you from finding any more information.”

“They were, also, eerily friendly,” Haylen put in. “Initially, it made me wonder if they might be synths themselves, but I’ve come to since reject that hypothesis as, most likely, they are victims of the Institute and are in denial about it for the sake of their own mental health and wellbeing.”

“A more than reasonable point, thank you Scribe,” Kells said with a calm, short nod. “The Institute, no doubt, have massive capacities, some of which I doubt we’ll ever fully understand without, somehow, managing to get cooperation from them. The damage they’ve done to the Commonwealth and its people, too, is terrible and disheartening.”

“Hence our presence. Our primary objective here is simple,” Maxson said proudly. “Put an end to the Institute and their synth menace by any means necessary. Ideally, we’ll get a surrender from them, and access to their facilities for us to appropriate for our own purposes. In the worst case, we’ll destroy them entirely in total war. Which, of course, brings me to the issue of Dr. Madison Li.”

“We’ve received and confirmed intelligence regarding Dr. Li’s whereabouts, and she is, without question, in the Institute,” Kells disdainfully noted. “Supposedly, she is there willingly and with no desire to leave. Whether or not she is a willing participant in their activities, she needs to be removed from them so we can, efficiently, reconstruct Liberty Prime. As you are our most experienced and active team on the ground here in the Commonwealth, your being aware of that project is critical. It is also a highly classified project, and I trust you understand why.”

“We do,” Danse cordially replied. “We’ll do everything we can to attempt to locate Dr. Li on our own, which brings us back to the matter of University Point. Given the volume of information you’ve received ahead of full arrival in the Commonwealth, I understand it’s possible this has gone under the radar, especially with the amount of information to comb through regarding Dr. Li. Still, Scribe Haylen and Knight Rhys were informed, before rudely being demanded to leave, of Dr. Li’s connexion to the town of University Point."

"Dr. Li has been positively identified as tied to a known location in the Commonwealth?” Maxson faintly smiled in approval. “That certainly makes things easier for us. What do you know about her connexion to the town at University Point?”

“A young, teenage girl was kidnapped from University Point a few years back by the Institute,” Haylen said, flipping to the page on the matter in her notes. “Her name is Jacqueline Spencer, and her father, Gerald, has since become – in his own words – a liaison between the town and the Institute. Two women were the ones who ultimately took his daughter to the Institute, and one of them was Dr. Li.”

“A disappointing turn of character,” Kells frowned. “I certainly expected a great deal more from her. I suppose we now have yet another matter we’ll have to interrogate her about when she is finally returned to the Brotherhood.”

“I’m sure she’ll be incredibly useful to us once she’s returned,” Haylen said, looking back to her notes. “I am pleased to report, surprisingly, it appears – from what the girl’s father said – Dr. Li returns to the surface and, specifically, the town of University Point every so often with the girl, letting her speak to her father and have time on the surface before, always, returning to the Institute. However, as I'm sure he's grieving the loss of his daughter, the veracity of his claim is questionable at best.”

“It’ll be some time until we can formulate a solid and secure plan of action, however, knowing there’s a location where we may find her visiting at some point is fantastic news for us,” Maxson said, pausing briefly in thought. “Dr. Li was an incredible asset. I understand why Elder Lyons let her go, but I disagree with it. She should not have been allowed to leave. Not only did she have intimate knowledge of some of our most sensitive and secretive operations, but she is, for all her faults, an absolutely brilliant mind.”

“Indeed. Her knowledge of Liberty Prime is what I find most troubling,” Kells said grimly. “If she has given the Institute information on Prime, it could be disastrous for us, especially if the Institute learns of our plans to reconstruct Prime.”

“Yes, and we also can’t afford to be reckless,” Maxson looked between Danse, Haylen, and Rhys. “I’m giving your primary orders as being to continue to secure and maintain our outpost at the former Cambridge Police Station. However, I believe you could also prove useful in securing and gaining control of the town of University Point. We will have to move slowly, but, eventually, I suspect we’ll be able to make the situation there favourable to us.”

“I absolutely agree, thank you, Elder,” Danse said, pride for his team swelling in his chest. “With time, we’ll be able to show those civilians they need not fear the Institute and, I’m sure, we’ll find a way to contact Dr. Li and bring her back to the Brotherhood, where she belongs.”

“Yes, and we will keep you abreast of any developments or changes to ensure success in that mission,” Kells confidently said. “We’ll communicate any adjustments or changes to your orders at least once a week. Ad Victoriam to you and your team, Paladin, and congratulations on such a successful mission in the Commonwealth so far.”

The Institute
June the 9th, 2288
18:49

Humming to herself as she worked, Dr. Rosalind Orman only paused when she realised, not in her entire life, Advanced Systems had never been busier. Though anxiety about Phase Three was rampant, for the young scientist, the anxiety was overrun by excitement.

Everyone being so hard at work put a buzz in the air the young physicist was all too happy to enjoy. Even the slight disappointment she had felt upon being informed her high energy weapons projects would have to be put on hold could not bother her for long, and, so, she continued to run through data sets, quietly humming along to whichever song came up next in the playlist set to be on the background from her computer terminal and into her wireless earbuds. There was something about the data sets she had received, each showing a different, projected outcome of one potential change to the current reactor, which was enrapturing, and every possibility was, she felt, more interesting than the last. And, one day, I’ll design a more efficient reactor to replace the old clunkers in the basem*nt. Phase Three is just the beginning! Smiling when one of the data sets finished uploading to the simulation programme, Rosalind opened it up and patiently waited for it to load, her fingers dancing lightly over the computer keys. The moment the programme was ready, she began the simulation tests, eyes narrowing when she noticed a discrepancy between projected reactor output and overall efficacy. Pausing the simulation, she opened up a text document to take a few notes before beginning the simulation again. Dissatisfied with the results, she took another few notes before uploading the next data set to run the next simulation. Her focus tight, it only wavered when, out of the corners of her eyes, she noticed movement, nervous movement. Pausing the simulation, Rosalind turned around from where she was sat working and pulled out one of her earbuds, surprised when she saw the nervous walk of a woman she had never seen before beside Dr. Evan Watson, who was as restrained and cordial as ever.

“This is Advanced Systems,” Evan said, turning to face the woman. “Father said you said you want to work in this department?”

“I do,” She eagerly said. “It’s amazing – all this time – the best research facility in the world was just below my feet. Really puts the Commonwealth to shame and will allow me to continue my research into reverse engineering pre-War technology.”

“Well, the Institute has always brought in as many people as possible,” Evan said, glancing over to where, just beside Rosalind and at her own computer terminal, Jacqueline Spencer was reading through the latest update on the reactor’s efficiency. “We couldn’t advance without it, but we have to be quite careful, hence our isolation.”

“With people like raiders always trying to take everything for themselves and killing anyone who stands in their way, I completely understand the need for security,” The woman agreed. “I don’t know how I survived as long as I did in that old theme park they’ve been luring people into.”

“Then it’s a good thing we were able to bring you in. To lose someone with your talents would be –”

“Dr. Watson, if you could end your soliloquy, some of us are actively trying to work.”

Though hearing someone cut in briefly took him by surprise, Dr. Evan Watson found himself completely unsurprised when he saw the woman who had spoken watching him through narrow eyes. In the near decade since she had arrived, one thing he had learnt was Dr. Madison Li was not permissive of distraction. So much as he disliked being told what to do, he politely nodded, lowering his voice as he continued to speak with one of the newest members of the Institute. Curious, Rosalind watched how the woman reacted to every piece of information Dr. Watson gave her. Almost hungrily, the woman listened intently, as if she saw everything Dr. Watson told her – no matter how small or seemingly inconsequential – as something of a revelation, a new piece in understanding the puzzle of the world she must have once known. Herself surprised to see a new face in the Division, Jacqueline Spencer would, every so often, look between her work and the woman speaking with Dr. Watson. Trying to stay focused, she pushed her long hair out of her face and up into a ponytail, secured by the band she had absentmindedly left on her wrist the night before. Both she and Rosalind, however, could not help but watch when they saw Dr. Li return, a hint of annoyance on her face when she looked at Dr. Watson, offering the woman with him a half sympathetic glance.

“So, I take it you’re the woman who found a hidden laboratory at the former ‘Nuka World,’” Madison said, waiting for her to nod which she, nervously, did. “I read the report. I was a bit surprised there was anything useful there, let alone research into weaponising Strontium-90.”

“I was just as surprised,” The woman said, a bit awkwardly. “Although I’m still not sure why the Nuka Cola Corporation decided to put it into a drink.”

“Yes, well, somethings are best left not dwelled on,” Madison turned to Evan. “I take it Father has made her your responsibility?”

“Yes, Evangeline will be under my team,” Evan said, gesturing to the woman who hesitantly smiled when she saw Rosalind was smiling at her. “She’ll be joining the team working on integrating pre-War and modern technology to optimise our development of, among other things, security measures and weaponry.”

“Welcome to the team, then,” Rosalind said, standing up to shake her hand. “I’m sure it’s exciting to be able to continue the work you started on the surface here.”

“It is,” Evangeline said. “Resources up there are quite limited, and no one seems to be particularly scientifically minded.”

“Is that so?” Madison raised an eyebrow. “Whatever the case, I expect you to be flexible with your projects under Dr. Watson, and become familiar with the Institute itself. There’s quite a bit going on right now.”

Evangeline nodded. “What is it we’re working on?”

“Apart from what Dr. Watson just mentioned, other Advanced Systems special projects,” Madison said curtly. “For a start, I suspect you’ve seen the boy – synth – already, haven’t you? Or has Dr. Watson neglected to fill you in on that particular…project? I should hope not, considering we’ve been hard at work on him for quite a while now. Of course, there are also our weapons projects, as he mentioned, and that’s as much as I’m authorised to tell you, for now.”

“I have been thorough, as always,” Evan assured her. “At such a critical research stage, minimising the opportunity for miscommunication is most prudent. It could be disastrous if we become complacent and rush our work. Rushed work is sloppy at best and deadly at worst, after all, especially considering our Division’s primary focus, at the moment. Now, if you’ll excuse me, I have to prepare the notes on this month’s progress report for Father.”

“I’ll get you started on learning how to use our systems,” Rosalind eagerly said, closing the data sets and simulations for Phase Three. “If you need me to stop at any time, let me know. I’m sure it’s a lot to take in. Wasn’t it, Jacqueline?”

A bit surprised, the teenager startled, briefly, but then nodded before quickly returning to her work.

“Speaking of,” Madison said, sitting down beside Jacqueline, her voice low. “You’re being shifted to work on reactor efficiency as part of Phase Three. Also, Father asked me to let you know you’ll be able to visit your father again in July, after the dust has settled a bit with the Brotherhood’s…arrival.”

Jacqueline nodded. “I’ve already started looking over the documents I was sent to analyse, so the shift shouldn’t be a problem. I just have to ask – is my dad going to be alright? With the Brotherhood being around the Commonwealth more, especially after they threatened him and the town, I’m really worried something’s going to happen to him.”

“For now, you have nothing to worry about,” Madison told her. “Focus on your work, and, if anything comes up, I’ll let you know as soon as I can. You’re a talented young woman, Jacqueline. Don’t let fear get in the way of you or your work when things are still well under control.”

Diamond City
June the 11th, 2288
10:01

“So good to have you back!” Vadim clapped when Cait sauntered up to the bar, waving coyly at the other patrons. "I heard you did well and killed the very evil man! What will you be getting tonight?”

“Oh, we’ll see,” Cait said with a sly grin, hopping up onto one of the barstools. “It’s barely past dark. There’s plenty of time for hell to be raised, don’t you think?”

Nearly spilling his vodka on himself when the former cage fighter elbowed him, the infamous leader of the Atom Cats took off his sunglasses and perched them up on top of his expertly styled and gelled hair, nearly three inches high. Rolling her eyes, Lisanna Branson swirled her beer in its glass, humming to herself and only setting it down to catch her glasses before they fell off her face when she started laughing at Rowdy attempting to ‘puncture’ Zeke’s hair with a pen. When she finally managed to push it through from the very top all the way to the other side, just the tip of the pen and its click retractor visible, Zeke smacked his palm against hers with a triumphant smirk, standing up to show off how, almost disturbingly, the pen managed to stay in place even when he began to spin around. Impressed, when he sat back down, Vadim handed him another bottle of vodka with a wink, ignoring the disapproving look his brother sent him. Amused, Cait took a few shots of moonshine and then, the second it was in reach, pulled the pen out of Zeke’s hair. Laughing when she realised she had taken him by surprise, Cait tossed the pen over his head and back to Rowdy, who caught it and twirled it in her fingers. Setting it down with a flourish, she tossed Vadim a few caps and happily began chewing on the freshly cooked fries he handed her, yanking them away from Zeke when he reached over to try and take a few.

“Don’t get big headed, buster,” Rowdy said, waving one of the fries in front of his face. “No one gets to eat my food except for me…unless I say otherwise.”

“I wouldn’t fight her for it,” Cait put in with a mischievous look in her eyes. “Unless you want to get a little bit hurt, Zeke, and I don’t want to see you get any damage to your pretty face.”

“My face ain’t all that pretty,” Zeke said, dramatically fluffing his hair. “This mane? This is the prettiest part about me.”

“And hopefully you don’t get it to stick up that high with super glue,” Lissy said, shuddering at the thought. “I had a friend do that, once, when we were teenagers. It was so bad she had to shave it all off.”

“I used super glue a few times,” Zeke replied, a little disgusted by the memory. “I managed to get it out without cutting too much of my glorious locks, but the sticky feeling on my fingers was terrible. I wanted to peel my own skin off to make the sensation go the hell away.”

Rowdy scoffed. “You’re exaggerating, Zekey. And you’re forgetting just how bad the attempt to dye your hair with acrylic paint went.”

“That,” He conceded. “Was so not rad. It ended up feeling like I put rubber in my hair! Kinda reminds me of how I feel when I listen to the radio out here. Music’s fine, but, man, the DJ is a wet rag.”

“I have a solution,” Vadim said, leaning forward towards him, Rowdy, Cait, and Lissy with a hushed, conspiratorial tone to his voice. “One to make it so you don’t want to cut your own ears off. Someone needs to get rid of him, give us a new DJ for the radio. I don’t think many would notice if he…you know, disappeared.”

Lissy eyed him strangely. “How much have you had to drink? I thought Yefim said you weren’t allowed to drink on the shift anymore.”

“Yefim is a spoilsport,” Vadim said, dismissively waving his hands. “Now,” He said, turning back to Cait, Zeke, and Rowdy. “This is a serious problem, calls for a serious solution. So, I tell you, it would be easier than you think. You just talk him into following you out of town, and –”

“Vadim,” Lissy said pointedly. “We all know you don’t actually want to kill Travis.”

He laughed. “It’s true, it’s true,” Vadim said before shrugging. “But still, radio is bad for business, makes customers unhappy. Either we have unhappy customers listening to bad DJ, or we have no music and customers have boredom. Something must be done, and soon. We will have customers suiciding before long!”

Cait snickered. “Not here,” She said, stretching her arms out as she spun around on the barstool. “All the customers suiciding will be up at the 'Colonial Taphouse,' all of them left to the painful attempts of Henry Cooke to please them.”

“He pleases one of them real well,” Lissy remarked, then taking a long sip of her beer. “If he didn’t, she wouldn’t come in there practically shirtless more often than not.”

“Then we must find a way to get people down here, so they do not suffer up there!” Vadim declared, pouring Cait another round of shots. “Now, now,” He said, an unusually serious note slipping into his voice. “Travis is a good friend. Yefim and I worry about him. Poor Travis, he means well but does not have the confidence he needs for his job, or anything else, really. So, I say, we figure out how to help him feel better about himself, gain confidence.”

“Like where you’re heading, Dima,” Rowdy said, taking a minute to continue to munch on her fries. “But I’ve got to ask,” She eventually said. “What are you even thinking? I’d say talk him into coming down to the Garage and stay with us for a few weeks, but that’d probably scare him sh*tless. He’s a sweet guy, but he sure as hell ain’t ready for strutting around in power armour.”

“And we’ve got some territorial issues right now, too,” Zeke reminded her, sharing a knowing look with her when she groaned. “I don’t like how those Brotherhood Of Steel people are setting up so close to our turf. And they’re trying to take all that scrap at the old airport like they own the whole damn place and its goods!”

“If you’re going to fight it out with them, be careful,” Lissy warned him. “They brought the f*cking Prydwen. They aren’t kidding around. Whatever it is they want with the Commonwealth, they pretty clearly intend to take it by any means they see fit. Last thing any of us want is to see all y’all and your garage get scraped for parts by them.”

“They’re a bunch of wet rags,” Zeke said, swearing under his breath. “But you’re right. We’ve got to figure out the best way to stake our claim and keep them from f*cking with our territory,” He turned back to Vadim. “As the cute pink haired cat said, our turf is a bit dangerous right now. Any other time though? We’d love to give Travis a few lessons in picking yourself up off the pavement. Hell, Rowdy could do it all on her own, given where she’s come from.”

“Really?” Cait said, surprised. “I thought you’d just given up on the raider life.”

“I gave up on it because I didn’t have much of a choice,” Rowdy sighed, staring intently at one fry she held in front of her face before eating it. “Long story short,” She said, pushing the remaining fries towards Zeke. “A raid went wrong and I was left for dead on a highway. Zeke and the boys found me, fixed me up, and showed me I could make better use of my skills. They’re knuckleheads, but they wouldn’t leave me like that. Think that might be what Travis needs, actually. To be shown people give a sh*t about him, want him to do well.”

“This is what I am talking about!” Vadim said with a snap of his fingers. “You didn’t know it, but you’re a good lady, Rowdy. Travis too, is a good guy. Like you did, he deserves a better life, and, so, first step is he needs to believe in himself, yes? Believe he is capable of more. And you know what works well for this? A bar fight!”

“Yes!” Cait cheered, elbowing Lissy, Zeke, and Rowdy before standing up to jump up onto the bar and smack her hands against Vadim’s. “Let’s get him to fight, and then let’s get him laid!”

“Don’t get ahead of yourself, lapochka,” Vadim said with a smile, tapping Cait’s nose to tell her to sit back down. “And we all know you’ve been in bar fights. You’ve been in all sorts of fights, and win them all. You know what I’m saying! Travis needs a boost of confidence, and he’ll get it from winning a bar fight!”

Rowdy grinned. “Like where you’re heading with this, buster.”

“Good, good,” Vadim said, clasping his hands together. “Because you can help Travis win his first fight! Think you can do that?”

“She sure as hell can,” Cait smirked. “All four of us can, actually.”

“Then it is settled!” Vadim cheerfully declared. “We will stage a fight here in Dugout, nothing too serious, so Travis wins and feels good about himself after. I have contacts, people I can count on. You know the types, real tough looking but will take a dive for money. So, now, all we have to do is get them here with Travis, and, soon enough, we’ll have a nice, good confidence man!”

“Sounds like a good cause,” Zeke said, sliding his sunglasses back onto his face. “Don’t you worry Vadim – we’re in.”

Chapter 22: Something Freeing

Chapter Text

Goodneighbour
June the 12th, 2288
19:22

“You feeling alright, Duncan?”

For Robert Joseph MacCready, seeing the bright smile of his son, something he thought he would never see again, brought him a sense of peace and happiness he had almost forgotten he could feel. Looking up from reading his comic books, the little boy who had just turned five waved excitedly at his dad, who took off his hat, stepped into his son’s room, and sat down on the edge of his bed. Duncan all but tossed his comic books to the side to hug his dad, looking up with wide eyes when he saw the woman who hesitantly lingered in the doorway. After a minute, one of her smaller medical bags in hand, Dr. Annette Davis slowly came over to them, and let out a sigh of relief when she saw the reduced swelling and number of boils on the five year old’s arms. Happily reaching for his comic books again, Duncan grinned and started telling her about the latest turn of events in the series before looking up at his dad, still thrilled his dad had, much to his surprise, come home from work the day before with a slightly late birthday present, one Hanco*ck had helped him find. Affectionately ruffling his son’s long hair, MacCready laughed a little when Duncan tightly hugged him again. Things felt right, again, almost as though they always had been.

“I checked last night, most of the ones on his back have gone away or are healing,” MacCready said, gently scratching his son behind his ears to keep him calm while Annette prepared and sterilised her needles. “I was right. Med-Tek really was the place.”

“And, thankfully, we were able to get back without too much trouble or worry about losing anything. After what it was…” Annette paused. “Something was wrong in there. I’m relieved we got back safe.”

“I am too,” MacCready shook a little at the far too recent memory. “On time for his birthday, too.”

Duncan giggled. “You finally managed to bake cake!”

“It may have taken me three years, but I learnt,” MacCready said with a slight chuckle. “Helps Daisy is pretty good at it.”

“I take it she’s helped you learn a lot of practical skills over the years?” Annette said, glancing over at him. “I’m just glad you were able to be there with him.”

“Daddy’s the best!” Duncan said, reaching up to mess with his dad’s hair. “He’s helping me feel better! You too, Anne!”

“I’m certainly glad to know you’re starting to recover, though it may be a slow process,” Annette gently reminded him. “Things might not keep easing so quickly. That’s why there’s three doses.”

“Today’s the second dose,” MacCready added, relieved when his son nodded. “You feeling up to it?”

“I think so,” Duncan said, a bit nervous when he saw Annette preparing the next vaccination dose. “It’s not going to hurt, is it?”

“It shouldn’t,” Annette said calmly, reaching over to numb the injection site on the five year old’s arm. “I know it’s a lot to go through, but it’s all to get things better. You ready?”

Duncan fell silent but eventually nodded, squeezing his eyes shut when he felt the needle press into his arm. Keeping his little boy steady, MacCready reassuringly patted his back, his own anxiety easing when he saw Annette finish the injection and clean the injection site. Once she was done, Duncan pulled over one of his blankets and wrapped it around himself before turning back to his comics. MacCready looked between his son and Annette, who delicately put the used needle in a secure bag to be safely discarded before putting her things back into her bag. Almost as though she were in a trance, she zipped the bag shut, awkwardly patted the five year old the head, and then silently left the room. Giving his son a hug and an affectionate kiss on the forehead, MacCready stayed in the room, picked up his hat, and kept an eye on his son for a few minutes. When he was sure he was alright, he too left the room, Duncan contentedly reading his comics. Happier than he anticipated when he stepped into the living room to see Annette having stepped out onto the balcony to have a cig, MacCready set his hat back on his head and walked out to join her, reaching into his coat pocket and pulling out a new pack, smiling when she raised an eyebrow upon him handing it to her.

“I like everything to remain nice and even,” MacCready lightly teased. “And you’re one up on me…and I think I owe you this for the amount I’ve taken off you the last three months.”

Annette rolled her eyes but slipped the pack into her purse. “Is that all you’ve learnt about me since we met?” She laughed. “That I always have at least a few cigs on hand?”

“Trust me when I say I’ve learnt a lot more than that,” MacCready replied with a smile. “You’ve dedicated just about your entire life to practising medicine, you spent most of your life in a Vault, and you’re an absolute sweetheart who’s soft with kids. You know Duncan likes you a lot, don’t you?”

“Well, that’s good to know,” Annette sighed, tapping the excess ash off her cig. “Although I’m not…well. I…I suppose you…after what happened when we left Med-Tek, I suppose I owe you an explanation.”

“About what you said to those Brotherhood guys?” MacCready said, surprised. “Honestly, I was just glad to hear someone put them in their place, for once. No one in the Capital Wasteland seemed willing to.”

“Seeing them here was…well, it caught me off guard,” Annette said, bitterness slipping into her voice. “I can’t believe Teagan is still one of their leaders. The man’s a disgrace, and that’s putting it lightly. Then again, those Brotherhood soldiers, the ones we…they’re just like all the rest of them. Self righteous bastards, all of them, who expect to be given time of day despite doing nothing to deserve being shown genuine respect.”

“Some of them, at least the handful I’ve met over the years, are alright,” MacCready said, worried when he saw the way her hands were shaking. “You alright, Annette? If –”

“I’m fine, and, even if I weren’t, you deserve to know the truth,” She said, taking a long draw on her cig. “You want to know how old Proctor Teagan is?”

“Isn’t he somewhere in his fifties or early sixties?” MacCready grimaced when she nodded. “I’m guessing nothing good happened if you mentioned him specifically.”

“For one thing, after I struggled to find my father after I had to leave the Vault upon my then…well, I thought I was going to marry her but fiancé certainly isn’t quite…after her father tried to kill my father and then me, I had no choice to leave the Vault, alone, and unsure of where to go,” Annette said, her voice unusually quiet. “I had just turned nineteen. I wandered alone, thought I would die the first few days, but ended up in a small town called Megaton.”

MacCready reassuringly set a hand to her shoulder. “Must have been hell. I…I can only imagine.”

“I don’t even know how I managed to get that far,” Annette said, finishing her cig and pulling out another. “A woman there helped me get to Rivet City, where I thought my father would be…but I was too late. And I…I made the mistake of trusting the Brotherhood to be the ones to help me. Teagan convinced me to sign a contract, putting in writing they would find my father, in exchange for my being a medical student. I’d thought it was fair but it instead kept me from leaving the Citadel for two years.”

“Two years?” MacCready repeated, horrified when she faintly nodded. “How could…why would they…?”

“Having just about no freedom of movement for the two years between my father and I having to leave the Vault and the defeat of the Enclave wasn’t the worst of it,” Annette said softly. “It was what…Teagan and I…God, I…I never should have let him to do what he did to me. But worse is what I…I did to myself."

MacCready stared at her, shocked when she rolled up her sleeves, something he, to his disbelief, realised he had never seen her do before.

“Are those…” He hesitated. “Are those all self inflicted?”

“Most of them,” Annette said, her voice little more than a whisper. “And here I am, a month from being thirty, with almost as many scars and healed burns as a careless junkie.”

“I’m just glad you’re still here,” MacCready said, reaching over to take her free hand. “It’s alright, now. I get it…I’d have been pissed to see anyone from the Brotherhood too.”

“I’m sorry to put all this on you,” Annette startled when he tightly embraced her. “I just couldn’t lie…I’ve done enough of that to try and hold onto…I…I’m so sorry.”

“Don’t be,” MacCready said, gently treading a hand through her hair. “After all I’ve put on you, after asking you to do what you have for Duncan, I’m glad you trust me, even a little. And, to keep it even, how about I tell you about some of what…I’ve seen over the years.”

“If you’re willing,” Annette said, taking another draw on her second cig when he released her. “Don’t feel you have to, or –”

“I want to,” MacCready said, sighing. “Where do I begin? Like I said, I mostly grew up in a cave with a bunch of other kids. I never knew my parents, but I learnt a decent bit about my mother from some of the older kids before they left Lamplight too. Amy Maura MacCready. Sounded like she never knew who my father was, and, seeing as I never knew either of them, it doesn’t bother me…I guess she had been getting ready to leave Lamplight herself when she found out about me. The others had her stay until I was born, and the last thing she did before she left was name me, and give me this.”

Annette raised an eyebrow when he pulled out a necklace he kept hidden under his shirt. “Oh my God! That looks…is that real sapphire?”

“Apparently she wanted me to have something worth a decent bit of caps, in case I needed it,” He said with a slight laugh. “I don’t think I’ll ever be able to bring myself to give it up…it’s…I just can’t. When he’s older, I’m going to give it to Duncan…in case he ever needs it.”

“You really do everything for him,” Annette smiled, stubbing out her cig. “Duncan couldn’t be luckier to have you.”

“I hope you’re right,” MacCready said, though he smiled when he saw she was. “But seeing him starting to get better? It really gives me hope, and, more than anything, I hope I’ll be able to be the parent he deserves. I haven’t been for too long. He needs it…and I think I’ll…I think I’ll be able to manage it.”

Diamond City
June the 14th, 2288
18:07

Travis Brendan Miles was many things, some of which, he supposed, he was proud of.

First of all, he had survived to be twenty eight, a feat he was relieved to have been able to achieve without ever leaving Diamond City. Second of all, despite not having expected to actually get the job, he had managed to spend the past five years of his life in relative solitude, away from the prying and judgemental eyes, just talking and playing music for people through the Commonwealth’s longest ranged radio. Third, and in his mind most impressive, he even had a handful of friends in a town he was sometimes too anxious to go into except to get food, water, and the caps he’d earnt during the week. Though he very much had not expected it, he had been happy when Vadim came to pay him a visit. One of the few people in the city he thought understood him, Travis had been all too happy to spend a few hours with him, even have a little bit of banter on the air. What he was now worried was a mistake, however, was agreeing to come to the Dugout, to Vadim’s bar, to socialise. The more he had thought about it over the few days since he had agreed to go, the more he found himself questioning the decision. Still, not wanting to disappoint the man he considered his only true, best friend, Travis anxiously made his way from his home and office, the radio set to air autonomously for a few hours, to one of the city’s strangest locales, trying his best to not jump or scream when a few dogs and eye-bots patrolling the city caught him off guard.

Waving nervously at a few people sat outside the bar, eating, drinking, and singing songs he thought were from a musical, Travis made himself go to the door, and, after remembering it was a public place and he didn’t have to knock, opened it and stepped inside. Like always, the second he was through the door and into the short hallway leading into the main room of the bar, the sounds of laughing, cursing, and music could be heard. It was almost comforting. As far as he knew, there were rarely any moments of quiet in the Dugout, even late at night when he (and, he hoped, most people) would be asleep. Half yearning to run back home and curl up in bed early for the night, Travis forced himself to keep walking, and managed to smile and wave when Vadim saw him and started cheering. Much to his surprise, a few others joined him, three of whom were in leather jackets, all embossed with the words Atom Cats on the back. Uncomfortably, he smiled at them, surprised when the dark haired woman in heavy eyeliner winked at him, the pink haired girl with a beer waved, and the boy with hair gelled up high took off his sunglasses and shook his hand. He took a step back, however, when he saw the far too excitable woman sitting on the edge of the bar, taking shots.

“Cait?” Travis said, tightening his jacket around himself. “I…hello. I thought you were still…you know…a, well, fighting people as your job. You…you still are, aren’t you?”

“Hell no,” She replied with a wink. “I’ve actually been spending me time going around, all about, really, the Commonwealth to help a real pretty, sweet woman looking for her kid….and, of course, with the help of Diamond City’s favourite private eye.”

“And, now, she’s back!” Vadim said, smacking his palm against hers. “She’s one hell of a storm, no? I’m damn proud of her. She even killed an evil, evil man!”

“You should take notes,” Rowdy remarked, reaching for some fries. “Cait is a real good fighter. Anyone who thinks otherwise should pray they never have to fight her.”

“If they tried, they would regret it,” Cait said with a laugh. “The blokes who’ve thought it ain’t got much of them left. Including the piece of sh*te I took down with Nora and Nicky.”

“She’s not kidding,” Zeke added with a smirk. “I’ve seen some of the pieces of the son of a bitch.”

Travis let out an anxious yelp. “You…you?” He waved his hands worriedly, walking back away from them a bit. “I…I don’t think I want to know much more. There’s probably a lot of –”

“Watch where you’re going, boy!”

Travis screamed, whipping around and accidentally smacking the man he had inadvertently walked into. When he saw the man, he dizzily realised he was not only several inches taller than him but muscular and with several tattoos, one of which was of a disturbingly realistic depiction of a beheaded lion. Waving his hands frantically in surrender, Travis tried not to scream again but instead found himself struggling to not start hyperventilating. Quick on her feet, Rowdy grabbed one of Travis shoulders while Cait grabbed the other to prevent him from falling over and into anything or onto anyone else. Setting his sunglasses securely in his thickly gelled hair, Zeke stretched out his arms and walked over to them with a slick grin on his face, wrapping an arm over Travis shoulders once Rowdy and Cait let him go, themselves looking rather eager for a fight. Enjoying the sight, Lisanna turned around on the barstool upon which she was sat, adjusted her glasses, and took a long sip of her beer, trying not to smirk. Coming back from around the bar to prevent his brother from intervening, Vadim began arguing with him in Ukrainian, a sight which did not perturb any of their patrons, all of them quite used to the sight. Regaining himself, Travis tried to stay calm, though he felt his heart rate spike and his body shake when he saw a second man had come over, looking just as hardened as the man he had walked into by mistake.

“I…look,” Travis stammered. “I don’t want any trouble.”

The first man snickered. “What’s wrong? Not so tough once you’re off the air?”

“Wait…what?” Travis swallowed hard. “What is this about?”

“You tell me,” The second man sneered. “Or do you just make a habit of not watching where you’re going? Don’t tell me – you’re just a clueless dumbass.”

“I…no,” Travis said, shaking his head. “No, I’m just…I’m only here for a drink.”

“What was that?” The first man jeered. “Sorry, you say something?”

“I’m here for a drink,” Travis said, his voice louder than he had meant for it to be. “Okay? I…I don’t want any trouble. That’s…enough is enough! Leave me alone!”

“Let me think about it for a second,” The first man said, speaking with nothing but sarcasm. “You know what? I don’t think so.”

“I…I mean it!” Travis shouted, startled by himself. “Leave me alone!”

“Sounds like you were thinking about saying ‘or else,’” The second man taunted. “Were you, Travis? Were you going to say ‘or else?’”

“I…” Travis nervously looked over his shoulder at Zeke, who let him go. “I…I mean…I’m not really looking to cause trouble, you know…I don’t want to –"

“Go for it!” Lisanna cheered, briefly setting down her beer to excitedly crack her knuckles. “Kick his ass!”

“Take a stand, do something about this,” Zeke added with an almost fatherly slap on the back. “You don’t have to knuckle down to these sh*t heads. Let’s do something about this.”

“I…I would…” Travis nervously tugged at the sleeves of his jacket. “Oh, God,” He shook when he turned back at the two men who seemed to be squaring to fight. “I –”

“Whack ‘em like they’re commie mole rats!” Rowdy told him, tossing him her silver studded baseball bat. “Fight, fight, fight!”

“I –”

Surprising himself yet again, Travis tightened his hands around the former raider’s baseball bat before letting out an unexpectedly aggressive, near war cry. Catching the two men by surprise, he lunged at them with the baseball bat and began waving it around frantically, hoping to smack something, anything, really, to make them leave him alone. He ducked out of the way when one of them tried to cut him across the face with a knife, and scurried in between them when they were distracted. With more rage than he had ever imagined having, Travis began swinging as high as he could to try and smack one or both of the men in the back of the head. To his surprise, he managed to hit one of them. Not wanting to lose the chance, he kept swinging and swinging at the back of the man’s head until he realised there was blood starting to get caught on and staining the bat. Worried about ruining what he had heard was one of the former raider’s favourite toys but more worried about getting killed, Travis kept swinging at the man until he got him disoriented enough to kick him to the ground. With one of them on the ground, the anxiety addled DJ turned around and began whacking at the second man. Almost furiously, he kept swinging, kicking, and hitting at the man when he saw he had drawn a gun. He screamed when the gun went off, but let out a deep, heavy breath of relief when he realised he had not been shot and, instead, the shot had misfired into one of the vending machines in the bar. Seeing the man had dropped the gun in the chaos, Travis all but lunged on the man and tackled him to the ground, beating him over the head with the bat over and over until he was sure he was unconscious. He then set down the bat and rolled over onto the floor, panting, and staring up at the ceiling, managing a small smile when he saw Vadim was looking down at him.

“You did good, Travis, very good!” Vadim grinned and extended his hand to help the shaking and sweating DJ back to his feet. “I knew you had it in you! How do you feel now?”

“I…I feel good!” Travis laughed, taking his hand and tightly embracing Vadim, who hugged him just as tight. “I can’t believe it! I did it! I…I’ve got things to do, things I can do now!”

“Hell yeah, you do!” Rowdy exclaimed, clapping. “Someone buy this man a round!”

“On it!” Lisanna said, tossing some caps at the less than amused Yefim. “Oh, come on, it was a damn good fight!”

“And you definitely won your first bar fight!” Vadim cheerfully said, clapping his hands on the DJ’s shoulders. “I’m very proud of you, Travis, f*cking proud!”

“I…I think I…” Travis smiled and then, his heart racing again, wrapped his arms around Vadim’s neck and kissed him, taken by surprise when Vadim eagerly kissed him back. “I…I never thought I’d have it in me to do that,” He said, a bit embarrassed when they broke their kiss. “But…sh*t. I really…”

“Glad you finally did,” Vadim said with a blush. “I was starting to think I was imagining you thought of me too!”

“You weren't,” Travis said, laughing a little. “sh*t, though. Did it really take two goons and a baseball bat for me to feel even a bit of confidence?”

“Everything happens for a reason,” Vadim replied, kissing his cheek. “I’m happy you’re afraid no more.”

Railroad Headquarters
June the 15th, 2288
17:03

“Well, it looks as though, with one bad thing happening, we’ve got surprisingly good news.”

Deacon swaggered into the old crypt with a smirk on his face that concerned all of his colleagues except for a certain eccentric inventor. Sliding in his rolling chair away from his computer, pulling up all the gadgets from in front of his face on his headgear, Tom smiled when he and Deacon met eyes, the two of them sharing a set of winks before turning to Desdemona. Much more concerned, she tiredly lit up a cig, expecting Deacon to give one of his long and almost certainly embellished stories. Sitting beside her and sharpening a set of knives, Glory glanced up every so often, the slightest unexpected change in her surroundings still not something she had gotten comfortable with again. Sensing her tension, Desdemona delicately set her free hand to one of Glory’s shoulders, relieved when she felt her ease up even the smallest bit. Unsurprisingly annoyed, Carrington came out from working in the mainframe room with a scowl on his face when he saw Deacon take his sunglasses off with a flourish before tucking them, as usual, back into his shirt. Jumpier than usual, Drummer Boy nearly fell over when Deacon sashayed past him before, finally, hopping up onto the edge of the table upon which laid their map of the Commonwealth and adjacent regions.

“So, you know the son of a bitch who kidnapped that girl from University Point and dropped her into the Institute?” Deacon smirked when they all turned to him, surprised. “Guess who’s one of the most recent sh*t heads to reach the gates of hell?”

“Wait, wait, wait!” Tom stood up, amazed. “You found and killed him?”

“Nope, though he’s definitely kicked the can,” Deacon replied, sending Carrington a pointed look. “I’ll take your congratulations and apology now for saying I was wasting my time keeping an eye on the woman travelling with the Minutemen.”

“The Minutemen killed him?” Desdemona said, a dubious note to her voice. “I’m surprised Hadley didn’t say anything.”

“Lay probably doesn’t know yet, at least, since she would most likely be freaked out,” Deacon shook his head. “She’s been in a state lately. I told her to go home and rest up. The Brotherhood being here and her husband being asked to rejoin has really gotten to her.”

“I suspect it’d take a toll on anyone, but, speaking of the Brotherhood, I know there’s been panic about the…new thing floating in the sky,” She paused, taking a draw on her cig. “With all of you finally back in one place, I suppose now is as good a time as any to bring you all up to speed.”

“It’s proving one of my theories!” Tom said eagerly. “Aliens are real!”

“Enough,” Desdemona said sharply, raising a hand to silence him. “The blimp is called the Prydwen, and it’s operated, as I’m sure you’ve all deduced, by the Brotherhood Of Steel, who are a formidable, highly advanced order. And they’ve come to destroy synths.”

Glory looked up at her in horror. “sh*t…makes me wish it was one of Tinker’s aliens.”

“If only,” Carrington said dryly. “Perhaps, then, we would have much less to worry about.”

“Regardless, we can’t ignore the fact the Brotherhood are here and, in all honesty, much more dangerous than the Institute,” Desdemona shook her head. “With everything that’s happened in the past few years, waiting to mention this at a time when all of you are present but Hadley is not is far from accidental. Her husband could end up being a security threat to us, which is why all of you must keep under wraps the knowledge Tom is spearheading a failsafe plan to deal with the Brotherhood.”

“Derek is an opportunist,” Glory muttered. “If the Brotherhood give him a good enough offer, he’ll go right back to them, f*ck what Hadley has said about it.”

“I’m simply happy to know Desdemona is, for once, taking my advice,” Carrington said irritably. “This could be a disaster waiting to happen for us.”

“Considering the Brotherhood finding our location could be even worse than the Institute finding us, yes, so much as I wish it weren’t so, you’re right,” Desdemona said, taking another draw on her cig. “For those of you going out in the field, spread the word. The Brotherhood are our enemies. There’s no possibility of peace.”

“Isn’t their leader a teenager?” Glory rolled her eyes. “Put me in the ring with him, and I’ll show him who is really inhuman.”

“His name is Arthur Maxson, he’s twenty one, and he’s a remarkably charismatic leader despite his age,” Carrington warned her. “Do not be reckless, Glory. Even if we could, going out and killing their leader would only provoke them to destroy us faster.”

“I hate to admit it, but he’s correct,” Desdemona sighed. “I would love to see him be forced to see who’s really acting inhuman, but we’re not in a position to do so. Not right now, anyways.”

“Well, okay, then,” Deacon looked between them, almost expecting either Desdemona or Carrington to begin fighting again though they did not. “With that cheerful discussion out of the way, let’s get back to the good news, which is the kidnapping son of a bitch is dead, and the lady who killed him is the same woman who was travelling with the Minutemen.”

Desdemona raised an eyebrow. “The woman who had been…suspended in a Vault? She was the one who killed him?”

“With a crazy lady from the Combat Zone and Diamond City’s only synth detective,” Deacon replied, rolling his shoulders. “From what I saw when doing my rounds in Diamond City, they brought him back in pieces. Not her idea, though, the Combat Zone lady seemed to be the one who decided they would dismember him.”

Glory snorted. “Serves the son of a bitch right.”

“It does,” Desdemona said, stubbing out her cig and smiling when she met Glory’s eyes. “And, for once, Deacon’s good news is genuinely good.”

“With all the sh*t happening right now, I’d say it’s damn good news,” Tom said, applauding the enigmatic spy. “You still think she’s going to be able to help us? Like the vengeful lady did with the creepy town?”

“Nora? The woman who killed the asshole who kidnapped the University Point girl?” Deacon shrugged when he nodded. “Probably, but I want to lead her to us. As for…Annette. She’s currently living in Goodneighbour, doing whatever doctors do, and spending a lot of time with the asshole who kills people for caps out of the basem*nt of the bar there.”

“You haven’t approached either of them, have you?” Carrington let out an, albeit aggravated, unusual sigh of relief when Deacon shook his head. “Don’t. I do not trust Annette, and certainly not if that’s the company she’s keeping. As for Nora, I’ll admit, leading her to us is a surprisingly reasonable thing for you to suggest we do. Almost suspiciously reasonable.”

“He…actually mentioned it to me a few days ago,” Drummer Boy hesitantly put in. “He’s serious. Letting her find us is the best plan. Not to mention she’s probably really upset about everything she’s been through. I mean, she’s only been out here for less than a year, right? And isn’t she looking for her husband and son?”

“Only one of them are still out there,” Deacon grimly corrected. “I also found out her husband was murdered by the man who took her son and him, initially. It’s absolutely brutal. No one should have to go through that. Losing a spouse is one of the worst feelings. I get why she killed him. I did the same thing…although I definitely killed a lot more people than she did.”

Drummer Boy winced. “Didn’t you kill fifteen people you were in a gang with because they murdered your wife when they decided she was a synth?”

“Yes, which is also why I don’t go near University Point. Ever. I get my intel out of there from our contacts for a reason,” Deacon said, crossing his arms. “Either way, those guys got what they deserved…and I learnt a necessary lesson about compassion. I can’t believe the things I used to think and say about synths…it’s disgusting.”

“But you’ve changed. A lot,” Glory said with a faint smile. “And, hey. At least you kill the bastards who say the things you once thought now. I think it’s more than evened the score, don’t you?”

Deacon laughed. “Trust me, Glory,” He said. “If you say the score is even on anything, I’m going to take your side and say, yes, the score is, in fact, even.”

Diamond City
June the 17th, 2288
9:19

“Hadley? I’m no expert in the kitchen, but I think you’re going to –”

Preston Garvey sighed and all but threw his laser musket to the side to grab a bucket of water from the floor, filled with water, he knew, was from a leak in the ceiling exposed by the most recent thunderstorm to put out the fire Hadley had accidentally started on a dishtowel. Startled, the mother of four took a step back, only to stare in horror at the slightly smoking dishtowel still on the counter, the stove, thankfully, having been turned off. Exhausted, she pulled off her reading glasses and began nervously running her hands through her hair, dishevelling her bangs. Seeing her husband step into their home with Sturges just behind him, she relaxed, a little, though she wrapped her hands tightly around the edge of the counter she was leaning back against. An eyebrow raised when he saw the concerned way Preston was staring at his wife, Derek quickly set down his bag and came over to her, giving her a short, sweet kiss before tightly wrapping an arm around her, taken aback when she all but clung to him. Please don’t tell me you haven’t been sleeping when I’ve been out, Hads. It’s over. They’re not going to bother us anymore. Satisfied she was secure, Preston stepped away and back over to one of the couches near where he had left his laser musket cast to the side, and where Sturges had already sat down, equal parts worried and perplexed. Nevertheless, he began giving Preston his report on the status of their settlements and the state of their alliances, which were slightly better than they had expected. He gave Hadley a reassuring smile when she and Derek joined them, seemingly a bit more relaxed after softly speaking between each other in French but still a little out of it, looking caught between exhaustion and tremendous anxiety.

“It’s…been a long few weeks,” Hadley finally said when she and Derek sat down across from him and Preston, her mind still reeling.“I’m sorry. I…I think I just needed a moment to…to remember things are alright.”

“No, it’s not your fault, Hads,” Derek said gently. “In my rush to get things ready for everyone this morning, I forgot I was going to sit and pray with you. With how things have been, I should have remembered how important doing so is to you, to us, and the kids, especially after missing the lighting of shabbat candles last Fri –"

“Don’t worry about it, anamchara,” She said, twining her hands tightly around his. “So,” She said, nervously looking between Preston and Sturges. “Since neither of you seem too upset, I’m guessing things have been going alright for the Minutemen?”

“We’ve made some pretty good strides in forming a trading line between a lot of the settlements we’re working with,” Preston proudly replied. “Everyone’s coming together in a way I didn’t think they’d even want to try to a year ago. I think things are finally looking up for the Minutemen.”

“And we’ve gotten the Brotherhood to back off on some of the families we’re protecting,” Sturges added, smiling when she almost instantly seemed more at ease. “They definitely won’t be bothering the Abernathy family again, and, between us and Abraham Finch pulling a crossbow loaded with tranquiliser darts on ‘em, they won’t be going after the Finches either.”

“The couple living in the former Oberland Station apparently scared a few of their troops sh*tless,” Preston went on. “I’m not surprised they had it in them, but I was surprised to hear, whatever it was they said and did to them, made the Brotherhood Knights all but run in the opposite direction.”

“As you’ve said, the Commonwealth belongs to all of us,” Derek said, a hint of amusem*nt to his voice. “Although I certainly have a lot of respect for anyone willing to stand up to the Brotherhood of their own accord, even without us there to back them up. So much as it’s a hard thing to accept, they, at least with how they’re acting now, are far from warriors fighting for freedom’s song, so to speak.”

“They’re certainly not patriots,” Hadley said under her breath. “Nix what they think, they’re simply not anymore.”

“I can’t say I trust in the good intentions of the Brotherhood much more than you do,” Preston said, taking off his hat, for a moment, to fan himself. “Which is part of why we’re here. I was thinking, since I know you’ve spent a decent bit of time talking with the people of University Point, you might want to join us in visiting them. We’re hoping to strike an alliance with them, to keep them safe from the Brotherhood.”

“Considering the Brotherhood are already earning themselves something of a...reputation here, I’m sure Strickland and the rest of the town will be happy to have someone on their side,” Hadley said, falling silent a moment. “When are you planning to head out? I can be ready within a day or two.”

“In about a week or so,” Preston said, relieved. “It’ll be good to have you with us, Hadley. You’re better company than you think you are.”

“And you’ll be damn useful in getting the townspeople to hear us out, even if they’re nervous,” Sturges encouragingly put in. “Especially since I heard they already got a…less than friendly visit from the Brotherhood.”

“They did,” Hadley said, frowning. “Apparently the Brotherhood were disgusted to not be welcomed with open arms, as if they’re the ones who are doing the people of the Commonwealth any damn good. University Point has had it bad for nearly a decade, and the last thing they need is the goddamned Brotherhood Of Steel getting in their way when they’re already struggling to get by as it is.”

“They really don’t know when they aren’t wanted,” Preston shook his head. “They may have all the fancy toys, but how much are they really doing to help anyone? As far as I know, they’re mostly trying to stake a claim to all of the resources at the former Boston Logan International Airport. Way I heard it, the Atom Cats are pretty angry about it.”

“Oh, I’m sure they won’t be expecting that wrath,” Hadley said with a smirk. “The Cats don’t f*ck around and find out. The Brotherhood are going to get quite the surprise when they learn about their less than happy new neighbours. They may not be particularly close to each other, but the Cats have strong feelings about their scrapyards.”

Derek laughed. “Considering their power armour and weapons expertise, I wouldn’t be surprised if the Cats could give a few of their scout troops a run for their money.”

“They will,” Hadley said, squeezing his hands. “Hopefully it’ll be a pretty nasty blow to them.”

“The Brotherhood certainly won’t expect it,” Derek remarked. “As for University Point, it’ll be good to be able to help keep them safe. Now isn’t the time to tell the rest of the Minutemen this, but,” He frowned, disgusted at the thought. “As I was preparing to leave after the…meeting with them, one of their Proctors, Keith Teagan, came out to the flight deck as I was about to get on the vertibird back to Diamond City. He and I have never liked each other, but I don’t think I’ve ever been more disgusted by him than when he told me to ensure the Minutemen don’t interfere with Brotherhood operations, particularly the ones for ‘collecting donations’ from local farms.”

“I can see why,” Preston said, swearing under his breath. “That’s barely a step up from what raiders do, and, unlike raiders, it’s more than clear the Brotherhood absolutely have more than enough resources to pay people fairly for anything they may need.”

“It’s not about fairness,” Hadley said bitterly. “It’s about them getting what they want when they want it and without question or protest.”

“Which is where they’ve got sh*t all wrong,” Sturges said, cracking his knuckles. “They aren’t serving the people of the Commonwealth, and they sure as hell ain’t here to help us. My guess is they want to show off their own power, probably as the last great military power in the world.”

“If they really are, in any of their chapters, that’s a frightening thought,” Preston said, a dark edge to his voice. “From what I’ve seen, the Brotherhood have the same flaw as the Institute. Just because you can do something doesn’t mean you should, and both of them need to learn that.”

“What’s worse is you’re understating,” Derek said, tiredly taking off and wiping the dirt off his glasses. “I doubt their current leadership will ever admit it, but the things they are assuming about the Commonwealth, about the people here…it’s not only wrong, but dangerous, and, if they’re not careful, going to get people killed for no reason.”

“Hence our working to keep the Commonwealth safe, for everyone, people who just want to live in peace,” Preston said with a hint of a smile. “It’s not ideal, but knowing we’ve helped people already, knowing there are people who want us to keep serving them…it’s not just brought the Minutemen back from the brink but reminded me why we do this, why I signed up to be one of the Minutemen to begin with. I’m not sure if I’m quite used to being called General yet…but I think I’m growing into it, and I think, with enough time, we’ll be able to keep as many people safe as possible, and that’s something I’m more than willing to fight for at every single chance given to us.”

The Commonwealth
June the 20th, 2288
14:21

“You know something?” Piper said, grimacing when she, Nora, Nick, and Cait slipped into an alleyway. “I never thought, after over a year of trying to find out anything and everything about the Institute, I’d be trying to find the Railroad, although, in my defence, they’re almost as secretive as the Institute.”

“With the kind of business they’re in, it’s hard to blame them,” Nick remarked. “You have to be a little paranoid and a little mad to even dare to go up against the Institute.”

Exhausted and sweatier than she had expected for an unusually cold summer day, Nora shortly nodded, reloading her gun and catching her breath. Cait looped an arm around her and gave her a comforting hug before taking a look at her own weapons. A bit on edge and a bit worried about the way her mother in law had looked at her when she told her she was going looking for the Railroad, Piper bobbed back and forth on her toes, her arms swinging a bit behind her. Closely watching her regain her bearings, still worried about her mental state, Nick only felt some of his concerns subside when he found no hate and no anger in Nora’s eyes, something he had been worried she would never let go of after killing Kellogg. Can’t say the man didn’t have it coming, but what she said about him being barely even human…it almost sounded as if it didn’t come from her. As though… His thoughts intruded upon by a sudden gust of wind running through the alleyway in which they stood, the aged detective tightened his trench coat around himself and slipped on both of his gloves, more convinced than ever, at least where the weather patterns were concerned, nothing in the Commonwealth could or, more to the point, would stay stagnant for long.

What he could not see, though, was the almost helpless feeling the young lawyer feared might one day overtake her.

June the twentieth. It was June the twentieth.

Even before the War, it had never been a good day, not after 2070.

Her body aching at the memory, Nora tried to remind herself, at least, the place where she had needed to go before they began their search for the mysterious ‘Railroad’ was still the same, just about. Seeing her older sister’s grave, far from home in Plainville but beside the grave of her sister's best friend as had been her last wish, however, had not gotten easier, and, rather, seemed almost to have gotten worse, knowing the rest of their family, she was sure, had also since been killed or otherwise passed away. Not wanting to cry again and still a bit embarrassed she had only wanted Cait to stay with her when she had fallen to her knees before her sister’s grave, the young lawyer tried to remind herself things were over, things had changed, and there was not a chance in hell things could or would go back to the way they had been before the War. Still, sitting there, staring at the photograph of her and her sister in the locket Codsworth had saved for her the day the War ended, had been almost too much to bear. Sixteen. I wish I’d known why you were always pulling down your long sleeves, or why you yelled at mom and dad asking if they even heard you when you cried. We were all singing, all happy, and you only…you only seemed to smile once that day. And, then, you were gone. ‘Look at me now, look at your precious child.’ Somehow, the gunshot ringing out through the house was worse than the sound of the blast when the bombs were dropped. Rubbing at her weary eyes, Nora steadied herself and then began walking with Nick just a few paces ahead of her, Cait, and Piper, stopping short and swallowing hard when they stepped out of the alleyway and passed a mural, albeit a faded one, of a woman, two infants in her arms and gunshot wounds on all three of them.

“Oh, God…” She barely got out. “Is that recent? Or…oh, God, If…if that’s –"

“Nora?” Nick said calmly as she blinked back tears. “That’s not you or your son. We’re here for you, but, knowing what I do about your case and Kellogg’s modus operandi, you’re not going to become one of the mothers who needs to be held that way. We’ll find him, even if we end up having to do something drastic. You’ll see him again, and, if not, then I’ll be damned.”

“Nicky’s on the right track,” Cait said, reassuringly patting her back. “If anything bad has happened to your baby boy, we’ll make sure they pay, no matter what. Me personally? I’ll gleefully disembowel whomever it is still keeping your son from you.”

“Thanks for the nightmares, Cait,” Piper said, unnerved. “I really needed to hear that today.”

“Wouldn’t be my first time disembowelling someone,” Cait half jokingly said. “Sometimes, I really let loose on the raiders in the Combat Zone. But don’t worry. I only punished people as much as they deserved.”

“Raiders really are the scum of the Commonwealth,” Nick said, reaching up to hold onto his hat when the wind began blowing harder again. “It’s a damned shame what the world has come to. We’ve lost so much, all because people were so eager to kill each other, and look where it’s gotten us.”

“Put everything into disarray,” Piper said sadly, shuddering a bit at the wind. “But we’ve got to do the best we can. Not much we can do but find a way to survive.”

“It is the most basic human instinct,” Nora said, a note of resignation in her voice. “Seeing how much has been rebuilt still manages to surprise me. It’s hopeful…but I can’t help but miss some of how things were before.”

“I’d be shocked if you didn't,” Nick shook his head. “With everything you’ve been through, not wanting things to be even a little closer to what you had for most of your life would be strange. What you’ve had to face is a hell no one deserves to be put through.”

“Maybe, but at least some of the people responsible for all of it are being held to account,” Nora said, briefly startled by the anger in her voice. “Kellogg for one.”

Piper sighed. “He definitely won’t be hurting anyone else.”

“Hard to when your head is no longer attached to your body,” Nick dryly remarked. “That happens to be a pretty damn important thing.”

“So long as we get something useful out of his head, it’s all good in my book,” Cait said with a lightly sinister smile. “Fingers crossed we hear back from your brain doctor friend, Nicky, and hopefully she can do anything with it.”

“For as busy as she is – which is, admittedly, putting it mildly – Amari always comes through, even if it takes a little while,” Nick told her. “If we can get anything out of the old merc’s head, I’m betting at least a bit of it will have to do with the Institute. They’re the biggest scientific secret in the Commonwealth and, for someone like Amari, learning anything about them isn’t something to pass up, even if the circ*mstances are a little gruesome.”

“Pretty sure anything involving a decapitated head is more than a little gruesome,” Piper said, still unsettled by the sight of the head. “But point taken. I don’t think I’d ever seen so much blood and…everything before you guys brought him back in pieces.”

“It was the best option we had,” Nick said. “Unfortunately, carrying a rather large dead body around isn’t the safest or most efficient way in the world to transport something. If anything, even if it takes Amari a while to get back to us, hopefully the fact we killed a dangerous Institute asset will endear us to the Railroad if we can manage to find them.”

“Roll of the dice,” Cait shrugged as they began walking again. “Assuming they really do exist, if we find them, they might not be the happiest to receive some unexpected visitors.”

“Given they’re working against the Institute, a bit of paranoia probably isn’t a bad thing,” Piper said, drawing her gun upon hearing footsteps and shouts in the distance. “Although let’s hope they don’t mistake us for raiders.”

“Speaking of, there are definitely some a little ways ahead of us,” Nora said, her voice lowering with caution. “I’m surprised we haven’t run into too many yet today.”

“They ain’t too fond of hanging around Diamond City or Goodneighbour,” Cait smirked, taking out her twin knives. “Glad we stopped in there for a bite. Charlie might be a surly bastard, but he’s pretty damn good at cooking.”

“Can’t argue with that,” Nora laughed. “I think his noodles might rival Takahashi’s.”

“I just appreciate the brutal honesty,” Piper said, laughing a bit herself. “Can’t believe he looked at Hanco*ck and really said –”

Taking a small step back as they turned a corner, Piper couldn’t stop herself from gagging when she saw what was just in front of them. Nora, too, felt sick, faltering after stepping through the creaky, rusted metal gate. Even Cait was fazed, herself looking about ready to puke at the sight. With a disapproving hum, Nick looked over the scene, the bodies littered around seeming out of place with the almost elegant buildings around them. Smoke and heat from a fire burning in a metal barrel nearby left an acrid and almost painful stench in the air, worsened by the scent of decay from the bodies in the area. A bit of blood smeared on the outside of a half open door, Nora slowly approached it, her pistol drawn and ready to fire if need be. Taking a peek into the building, her eyes narrowed upon seeing more bodies, and the sounds of a fight taking place within. After no more than a minute, however, everything went silent again. Just behind her, Cait frowned, unnerved by the way, it appeared, a group of raiders had left or were fleeing the area. Examining a few of the bodies with Piper, Nick raised an eyebrow upon observing several of them to be headless. Sharing a disturbed glance with Piper, the writer and the detective soon followed after Nora and Cait, the two women slowly and quietly entering the building. The second they were over the threshold, Nick closed the door behind him and Piper. The two of them, Cait, and Nora all paused to listen, only to be stunned to hear little more than their own footsteps and the gurgling of something or someone dead or nearly dead.

“So, these are abstra…” Piper covered her nose and mouth with one hand, her gun in the other, sickened at the paintings scattered around the large room off the entry corridor and the rusty scent of dried or drying blood. “I think I’m going to be sick.”

“I don’t know, I kind of like it,” Cait said darkly. “Feels good knowing someone out there is more miserable than me.”

“Guess it’s no secret what happened to all those raiders,” Nora said, shaking her head. “What the f*ck happened here? I haven’t seen anything this…overtly sad*stic in a long time.”

“Seems to me the raiders got in a fight with each other,” Cait said, suddenly picking up a piece of paper haphazardly left on the floor. “Or not, unless this ‘Pickman’ fellow is one of ‘em.”

“Pickman was here, find me if you dare…” Nora mused, reading the note over the former cage fighter’s shoulder. “Well, at least we know who these paintings belong to.”

“Question is, where is he?” Piper said, her curiosity piqued. “Have to admit, I’ve got some questions for him that might be perfect for the Publick.”

“Then let’s start with…figuring out what the hell’s left around here,” Nora said, more unsettled than she was comfortable with. “Because I, for one, am not going to trust in the good intentions in this man…or his artistic vision.”

Chapter 23: Something Academic

Chapter Text

The Commonwealth
June the 20th, 2288
17:11

The bizarre and jarring sight of body after body of raiders within the perverse art gallery had been unsettling enough, worsened by the realisation of the paintings scattered about having used a massive amount of blood substituting paint.

Going up the stairs to find more dead raiders, some laid out on autopsy stretchers, while disturbed, neither Nora, Piper, Cait, or Nick were surprised. The creaky, splintering wooden stairs felt out of place with the, while not particularly well kempt, rest of the building, a few light fixtures on the walls with fading paint, and what remained of roughed up furniture, hinting at a past of at least some luxury. Questions running wild through her head, Nora tried to recall if, at any time, she had been in the building before the War. When she felt sure she hadn’t, anxiety about their surroundings eased a little. The more they took a look around the building, however, nothing felt particularly comfortable nor safe, even for a brief second or two or three. The gritty smell of blood and the nauseating scent of decay permeated every room. Still unconvinced she wouldn’t puke, Piper slowly weaved in and out of each room they passed through, avoiding as much of the gore as possible. Just as uneasy, Nora was no more than a foot or two ahead of her, seemingly trying, more than anything else, to keep up with Cait. Her usual, apparently unfazed self, Cait only paused when she noticed some plywood on a wall was loose. After tugging at it for a few minutes, she finally got it off and, to her surprise, found a tight passageway hidden in the wall. Walking to the end of it with almost uncharacteristic caution, she called out for the lawyer, the detective, and the writer to follow her, having found a ladder down to a half lit, apparent basem*nt below.

Not hesitating to descend to the apparent basem*nt, adrenaline rising in her with every rung down the ladder she went, Cait waited down at the bottom, soon followed by Nora, and laughed when Piper, the second she was low enough to safely do so, dropped the rest of the way down. Dusting herself off, Piper reached into her bag and pulled out a flashlight, the few lights on the walls around them flickering on and off. She turned around suddenly, startled, upon hearing someone start swearing, relieved to find it was just Nick, having trouble getting down the ladder with his exposed mechanical hand. When he was within reach, Nora and Cait helped the aged detective down the rest of the way, and the three of them joined Piper no more than a few feet away from them. Flicking on the light of her Pip-Boy, Nora slowly began deeper into the room, waving Cait, Piper, and Nick over when she found another tight corridor, the faint sight of red safety lights at the end of it. Seeing no other way out of the room than going down the corridor or back up by the ladder they descended into the room from, Nora pulled out her gun, and made her way down the corridor, Cait never more than a step or two behind her. Shouting and gunfire rang out the farther down the corridor they went. Behind them, Piper turned off her flashlight and kept one hand on her holstered gun as she followed after, and Nick, unsettled by the noise and ever the more suspicious of what happened in the gallery proper, kept looking back to ensure they weren’t being followed. By the time they reached the end of the corridor, however, it was clear the shouts and gunshots had been coming from what was now likely no more than a few metres away.

Peeking her head around the corner, Piper glanced around to ensure they hadn’t yet been seen or heard. When she saw no one but the noises did not stop, she nervously took a few steps back, taking in the sight of the tunnels ahead of them. Even in the dim light provided by a sparce number of still functioning safety lights, it was clear one of them had caved in, mounds of dirt and brick visible just past its entrance. A second seemed accessible, but was at the bottom of a series of steep drops, and a third was nearest to a nook almost completely hidden by another one of the gruesome paintings. Cait let out a disgusted yelp when she accidentally stepped in some human remains just past the entrance to the third tunnel, but went silent when she realised the voices had gone quiet, too. With unusual grace, the former cage fighter began walking almost noiselessly into the tunnel the moment she knew Nora, Piper, and Nick were just behind her. Rounding a corner and careful not to step into any more of the pieces of dead bodies haphazardly strewn about, they paused upon realising there was, not too far ahead, bright, white light, the kind which usually required a new or, at the very least, clean set of lightbulbs. The noise had started again, louder and louder the closer they got to the clean light, and, sure enough, there were a few raiders fighting each other in the large, circular room the light was coming from.

Weapons drawn, Nora steadied and fired a first few shots at the raiders before they noticed they were not alone. She jumped out of the way of one of them running at her with a large piece of a pipe in hand, and began firing at one of the others. Almost amused by the sight of the raider charging at them with a pipe, Cait took out her shotgun and kicked them in the stomach before shooting them several times in the chest. Swift on her feet, Piper shot at a raider charging at Cait with a knife drawn, yelling at the former cage fighter to duck out of the way before firing again, this time causing the raider to stumble back. Across the room, and having already taken down one of the raiders, Nora turned to fire on the raider stumbled by Piper. When she missed and her gun jammed, Nora panicked, dropping the pistol and reaching for her revolver, still holstered on her right side. Nearly stabbing the lawyer in her frenzy, the raider was instead shot down by Nick. No more than a minute or two later, it was nearly silent in the room, the only noise coming from themselves and the hum of electricity. Taking a quick look to ensure the three raiders were, in fact, dead, Nora, Nick, Cait, and Piper began to relax a little, while the heat of the moment faded away.

“One of hell of a place to hold a party,” Cait said, setting her hands to her hips and rolling her eyes. “I guess these raiders don’t know how much partying is too much.”

“Not quite sure partying was the problem here,” Piper said nervously. “You’d think they would be a little less…aggressive if that were the case.”

“Maybe,” Cait shrugged, sweeping up Nora’s pistol and reassuringly patting her on the shoulder. “I’ll fix this up for you later. Good thing you know to always keep more than one weapon on you. Never know when something might go wrong.”

“It’s practical, and I…” Nora glanced towards a set of stairs descending deeper into the facility. “Are we sure we want to know where that goes?”

“Sewers, I’m guessing,” Piper said, wrinkling her nose at the thought. “Didn’t think I’d have to wade through sewage water today, though.”

“Then this better lead to something,” Cait muttered, dropping Nora’s handgun into her bag and then starting down the stairs. “If we don’t get caps off this creepy son of a bitch, then I’m going to be pissed we wasted our time.”

Albeit reluctantly, when Nora and Nick went down the stairs with Cait, Piper went after them, though she gagged when they reached the bottom. Sickened by the smell as well, Nora held her gun in one hand and held her hand over her nose and mouth with the other, running towards another set of stairs at the end of the sewer tunnel. Used to the overbearing smell of sh*t, piss, blood, and vomit but disgusted all the same, Cait scrambled up to the top of the stairs, stopping only to pull Piper up, the writer looking about ready to be sick herself. Nick, too, seemed barely able to get through the tunnel, unable to vomit due to his synthetic and largely inorganic body but feeling as though he were about to all the same; the sensation was present but the act was impossible. Needing a moment to catch his breath once they were far enough from the sewer water for the stench to diminish, Nick tried to steady himself and his systems, a bit embarrassed. While they, too, had clearly disliked going through the sewer water, Nora, Cait, and Piper were physically fine once they were away from the sewage again. When he regained his composure, the aged detective followed them up another few sets of stairs, turning towards a makeshift bridge of pipes and plywood at the top of stairs.

Careful not to disturb whatever presumably weak structural integrity the bridge had, Nora made her way across it as fast and as light on her feet as possible. Piper, next, did very much the same but nearly slipped before reaching the other side. Much to her relief, Nora grabbed onto her wrists to pull her back up and to the bottom of a slight incline into a part of the facility deeper still. The second Piper was safely on the other side, Cait ran down the makeshift bridge and hopped onto the small platform Nora and Piper were already standing on. Finally, Nick made his way across the bridge, too, still feeling subsumed by the horrid smell rising up from well below the unstable bridge. Beginning to feel better the farther away from the sewage they got, Nick kept pace with Piper, Nora, and Cait as they went up the slight incline and then turned left into another, albeit much wider, tunnel. The cacophony of shouts, gunfire, and fighting returned the deeper into the tunnel they went until, finally, they reached a ledge looking down into a large room lit by camping lamps, fire burning in metal rubbish bins, and a singular safety light.

Crouching down to get a better look and listen at what was happening down below without being seen, Piper silently snaked her way around the corner and hid behind one of the large boxes on the left side of the ledge. Still at the very end of the tunnel but not far enough out on the ledge to risk being seen or noticed, Nora leaned forward every so often to try and get a better look at the group of five raiders below, four of them backing up the one with a mohawk and in heavy armour. Nick, too, focused on observing as much as he could, but, impulsive as ever, Cait reloaded her shotgun and began firing on the raiders, her eyes widening in disbelief when the one with the mohawk, the one who was more than likely their leader, looked at her. Son of a bitch was one of the worst of the men in the Combat Zone…and most of them ain’t exactly a joy to be around either. Taken by surprise, the raider turned around and looked up to where he was being fired at from, stopping cold when he saw the woman firing on him. The man they had cornered, apparently feeling much more free, snatched the gun from a dead raider’s body after Cait shot them to the ground, and began firing on the raiders himself. His aim terrible, Nora, Piper, Cait, and Nick, shot down the other four raiders, and, then, let the silence take over. As soon as they were certain the man would not attack them, however, they descended to where he was standing, dusting off his hands.

“Those people deserved worse than death, but this will have to do,” The man remarked, smiling warmly at the lawyer, the writer, the detective, and the former cage fighter. “Welcome to my…secret art studio. I’m Maxwell Pickman.”

“Figured as much,” Piper dryly replied. “I’m guessing you’re the one responsible for the disgusting paintings in that old art gallery?”

“Art is beautiful, not disgusting,” Pickman said casually. “But it matters not what you think of my creations. I am now indebted to you for saving my life.”

Nick frowned. “If you are, then, tell us, what the hell is going on here? Raiders may be the scum of the Commonwealth, but…"

“It was nothing more than a small disagreement,” Pickman said with a dismissive wave of his hands. “They objected to my hobby of collecting their heads. C’est la vie. Did you see my works in my gallery? Picnic For Stanley is my proudest work. Getting the sets of eyes and the bloodied skin just right was an excruciating process, but I think it came together well.”

“Hard to enjoy the work when you can’t get past the smell of blood and guts,” Cait said, eyeing him closely. “You could at least do some cleanup. Even by me standards, this is sick.”

“Sick? I’m just doing what I love,” Pickman smiled. “But you don’t need to understand my art. It’s a subjective medium, after all.”

“That’s…lovely,” Nora frowned. “Mind if we ask you a few questions?”

“For saving my life, of course,” Pickman said with a theatrical bow. “I pay my debts.”

Nora, Piper, Cait, and Nick shared an unsettled look, unsure of what to say or where to begin.

“Have you ever heard of a group called ‘the Railroad?’” Nora said, crossing her arms. “People who, supposedly, free synths from the Institute?”

“The Railroad? You hear rumours every now and again,” Pickman considered that. “My understanding is they work through a series of symbols marking locations of their operations. Lamps are most common, I believe. The concept has actually inspired some of my more recent works. Lamps force you to consider shading and highlighting much more critically. But I’m afraid I don’t know much more than their potential communication system. They’re even more secretive than the Institute.”

“Helpful,” Piper said under her breath. “Guess we went to all this trouble for nothing.”

“Far from for nothing,” Pickman corrected. “If you visit my gallery again, should you look deep within my painting Picnic For Stanley, you will find my gratitude. I recommend you do.”

“Letting us rob you?” Cait elbowed Piper, who still looked deeply uncomfortable. “Looks like we’re running into some decent luck.”

“Not sure I’d call this luck,” Nora said with a wary glance at Pickman. “But I’ll take any leads to the Railroad we can get.”

“Agreed,” Nick said grimly. “Not as though we have any better options, at least not for now.”

The Institute
June the 24th, 2288
11:28

Any day starting with Dr. Justin Ayo irritably storming into the Synth Retention Bureau was one every member of the Division, even the youngest interns and staffers, knew would be far from enjoyable.

So far as Dr. Alana Secord was concerned, however, enjoyable was the wrong word and, instead, productive would be more accurate. The days where Dr. Ayo was the most aggravated were almost always the days she found to be the least productive.

Used to it as something of a monthly routine, Dr. Secord barely looked up from the map in the SRB’s Strategic Command, syncing the latest updates of synth activity from the database and map into her tablet. Green. Any points where a green light flashed indicated a Courser completing a retrieval. Blue. Any points pulsing blue indicated a suspected location of unusual synth activity. Red. Any points with a persistent, unwavering red glare noted locations where synth units had gone missing. For the first time in several months, there were less than ten red points at once, and nearly all of them were around the same area, most appearing within a couple of miles from or around the town of Bunker Hill. Potential Railroad operations have been cited as deriving from that area. A discreet, human surface team may need to be sent to investigate, if only to ensure we don’t tip them or the Brotherhood Of Steel off. Orange. There were only three points on the map with an omnipresent orange light, and all of them were Institute controlled locations in the Commonwealth. Making a note to check on the status of Bioscience’s work at the Warwick Homestead, she pulled up the information on the other two locations to check for updates. Finding none out of Diamond City, she switched tabs to the extensive file on University Point, relieved to find nothing but a positive security update from X6-88 and a scheduled visit home for Jacqueline Spencer for the fourth of July. Turning back to the map, seeing a flash of purple light out of the corners of her eyes, Dr. Secord frowned, zooming in on the area and opening the notification.

Purple. The brief transitory between either blue or red. The signifier of an issue with a third generation synth unit.

Hearing the telltale sound of aggravated footsteps storming into the SRB’s Strategic Command, Dr. Secord glanced up to see one of her few direct superiors stepping over to the Division's master computer terminal and pulling up files on other members of the Institute.

“What the hell are you doing?” Alana said once she checked to ensure they were alone and the doors to SRB Strategic Command were locked. “I swear I spend half my time smoothing out the feathers you ruffle. I’d rather not have to do any more of that until next month at least.”

“With Dr. Binet’s upcoming…presentation,” Justin said as if the word disgusted him. “I happen to have some serious concerns regarding the synth escapes. He and his son have the absolute weirdest attachment to that synth they –”

“I’m not about to disagree on the fact the relationship Alan in particular has with Eve is disturbing, because it is, but, keep in mind, she was made to be a precise copy of his wife after she passed in the same laboratory accident that killed Dr. Virgil,” Alana pointedly cut across. “While I wouldn’t say it’s healthy, Dr. Binet has not pair bonded with any synth except for Eve, and his ceaseless dedication to his work is not something you’d consistently observe if he were sending any synths to the surface.”

Justin frowned, scrolling down through Dr. Binet’s file.

“It doesn’t say anything on the subject,” He said as Alana stepped towards him, tablet still in hand. “But I’m surprised his, shall we say, conjugal relations with E9-25 aren’t at least noted.”

Alana gagged. “Why on earth would anyone need – or, more to the point, in my opinion, want – to know if he’s having any form of a sexual relationship with Eve?”

“Because it might explain several things, up to and including his increasingly incessant and bizarre belief about synths being people,” Justin told her, venom towards the man in question impossible to hide in his voice. “Which, in turn, could be evidence in a case against him for –”

“Seems that will have to wait,” Alana cut in, pointing him towards the window overlooking the SRB's primary concourse below. “Looks to me you have something to address.”

Justin turned towards the window and swore when he saw both Dr. Nathan Filmore and Dr. Madison Li speaking with some of the SRB’s staff, and seemingly annoyed. Closing the files and locking the master computer terminal, he waved for Alana to follow him which, somewhat begrudgingly, she did, only pausing to set her tablet back on the charger before leaving the room. Swiping her ID card to ensure SRB Strategic Command was locked behind them, she briskly followed Justin down the spiral staircase into the SRB's primary concourse. If this is because of something you did, Justin, so help me, I may very well have some choice things to say to Dr. Zimmer about the amount of inconveniences you’ve caused me and the Division since he departed twelve years ago. Sure enough, when they reached the floor, an anxious intern hastily directed them to one of the SRB’s smaller conference rooms. Making no attempt to hide his anger, Justin scowled at both the head of Advanced Systems and Advanced Systems’ third highest ranking member of upper leadership. Much calmer though a bit annoyed at work being interrupted, Alana gave the two of them a short, polite nod from where she and Justin stood on one end of the conference room’s table, Madison and Nathan at the other.

“I’m sure Father will see the irony in my being barred from entering Advanced Systems without your express permission soon, Madison, and grant me the same courtesy,” Justin sharply said the second the door was shut. “To what do I owe the pleasure of a personal visit from you and Dr. Filmore?”

“Drop the act, Justin,” Madison said, walking over to and handing him a rather full file. “First off, would you care to explain why no more than five Coursers have been in and out my apartment the last few weeks? Or why some of my things have gone missing after those visits?”

“I have reason to suspect you may compromise Institute security,” Justin coldly replied. “With how rattled you’ve been by the arrival of the Brotherhood –”

“You’re still harping on that?” Alana gaped at him. “With all due respect, Justin, even I think you’ve been going way too far with all of your investigations into Institute personnel, and claiming it’s because of the drastic security threat posed by the Brotherhood is seeming less and less believable by the day.”

Justin sent her a dark look. “You going soft on me, Alana?”

“I’m being pragmatic,” She irritably said. “Now,” She turned back to Madison and Nathan. “I’m assuming there’s another issue.”

“There is,” Nathan said, unfazed by the glare Justin sent him. “With Dr. Watson preoccupied with several of Advanced Systems’ special projects at the moment, I was asked to inform you that your demands about reducing our power consumption are unreasonable, and we can’t cut back anymore.”

“Father said something similar,” Madison smugly added. “I was given full permission to inform you our weapons development projects have been officially raised in priority against your synth scout teams, in no small part due to the number of synth escapes.”

“I’m working on solving the issue of synth escapes,” Justin said through gritted teeth. “Soon, nothing will go on here I don’t know about, and you would do well to not attempt to bypass or kill any of my proposals for new security measures or the tighter monitoring of our network. This is a serious issue, and, for all his talk, Father has never taken it as seriously as he should.”

“Whether that’s true or not, it doesn’t change the fact Dr. Li, Dr. Watson, and I have all agreed – and received approval from Father and Facilities – both for Advanced Systems special projects and especially Phase Three – the demands you’ve sent us regarding our power consumption are unreasonable,” Nathan calmly put in. “There is no way to square those needs, even at the lowest possible power levels, with your demands for near total control of all Courser operations now Kellogg is dead. And after the blackout a few –”

“The blackout was your fault?” Alana said, incredulous when Justin made no attempt to deny it. “What the hell was the cause of it?”

“I simply needed to have some more discreet Courser operations run, operations which are reported to the Director only, not the whole of the Directorate,” Justin said with a disdainful look towards Madison. “And I happen to have had good reason for it from other…intelligence operations.”

Railroad Headquarters
June the 29th, 2288
10:10

“Enough is enough, Glory. I don’t care what you, Desdemona, or anyone else have to say about it. These ‘memory recovery’ procedures have been eating away at you, whether you’ll admit it or not. Swallow your pride and refocus on your work.”

“I’ve spent every year since I left desperate for answers about what those bastards made me do. I’ve run operations since I started the procedures, and I’ve run them well. Don’t condescend to me.”

Throwing his hands up in exasperation, Dr. Stanley Carrington gave Desdemona a cold, dark look when she stepped into the old crypt with Deacon, whose calm demeanour, he was sure, meant the enigmatic spy had done something questionable. He frowned when he saw Glory turn her back on him and walk over to Desdemona, speaking with her in hushed tones. Going back to his work, Carrington sat down in front of his computer terminal, and began to review recent files retrieved from data caches and dead drops. How is Desdemona is the leader of the Railroad but I am the one responsible for these critical tasks? Analysing information – never mind preparing them to be run through PAM’s predictive models – is not easy, and preparing holotapes for dead drops is also taxing work. Yet, despite this, she refuses to listen to me half the time and… Catching Deacon sitting up on a ledge near his desk from the corners of his eyes, Carrington frowned but said nothing, used to his eccentricities, no matter how flamboyant or obnoxious they could be. It was only when he noticed Glory and Desdemona staring at him that he sighed, probing his forehead for a minute before turning in his chair towards them, his countenance unapologetic and aggravated, far from what, he was sure, Desdemona in particular wanted.

“You know my stance, Desdemona,” He said curtly. “When planning operations, especially those requiring the kind of delicacy as ours, a certain degree of clinical detachment is necessary. So much as I accept Glory wants to know as much about herself as possible, I am at least aware of the risks. You can feel free to live in cheerful ignorance, but I will not.”

“You think I don’t know the risks?” Glory said, seething, her voice unusually quiet and low. “It’s not only about me, Carrington. It’s about knowing what they do to us. What they use us for! And how we can find out anything to get the edge on them!”

“I hate to take the Doc’s side, but he’s not wrong about it taking a lot out of you,” Deacon said, unfazed when Glory scowled at him. “You passed out for nearly two hours after last week’s attempt. Amari was worried your vitals were going to slip. Don’t get me wrong, I think it’s great you’d do anything to help other synths. But a little time away from this and working strictly in the field, with them, could help. Remind you why you do this.”

“Also,” Carrington put in before she could protest. “Your fixation on this ‘Molecular Relay’ you remember being spoken of is not helping. Just because you remember hearing about it doesn’t mean you’ll be able to remember what it even is or how it works. Even Tom, of all people, has no sensible idea of what a ‘Molecular Relay’ could be.”

“If there’s a chance, I want to know,” Glory stubbornly replied. “What if it gives us insight into something big – where the Institute is, for instance?”

“Even if we were to find where the Institute is, it would not solve the issue of entry,” Carrington coldly reminded her. “And I don’t think I need to remind you how ludicrous Tom’s suggestion of it being – just about – a teleporter is!”

“That would be ridiculous, I’m not disputing that,” Glory snapped. “What I’m saying is it could be a communications system, one that could lead us to their front door!”

“And what would we do, then?” Carrington said, struggling to mask his irritation. “Entering the Institute ourselves would be suicide and, for you, it would be worse. They would completely erase your memory and send you back to being a Courser. Do you honestly want to risk such a thing?”

Hands shaking, clenched into fists, but unable to think of anything more to say, Glory stormed off, heading towards the back of the old crypt where, near the escape tunnels, they had managed to construct a few, albeit miniscule, bedrooms. Swearing under his breath but relieved to have the chance to return to his work without interruption, Carrington turned back to his computer and began going through the most recent entries logged on operations. Uncomfortable with the silence, Deacon looked between Desdemona and Carrington, who, every so often, would glare at each other. Having been unperturbed by the argument, Tom looked up from the gun he was working on, surprised when he saw Desdemona hesitate for a minute before following after Glory. Briefly curious but turning back to his work and opening his sketches for the modifications, Tom hummed to himself and tuned the world out again. Shifting back and forth, waiting to be handed the next set of holotapes for a dead drop, Drummer Boy stayed silent, all too used to the disagreements between the Railroad’s two leaders but never comfortable with it. Where Carrington was more than content to get back to work, however, Desdemona was not. Hesitating before stepping into Glory’s bunk, Desdemona barely got out of the way of a knife Glory was throwing at a cork board, sighing when she saw the brief look of guilt that crossed her face, almost as though Glory thought she had nearly hurt her, even if accidentally.

“Sorry,” Glory said quietly, setting her other knives aside. “Talking about this sh*t ain’t easy. How can I not get angry with him? Carrington’s goddamned tests never went anywhere in trying to figure out what went wrong inside my head, what the Institute made go wrong inside of me. Amari is the only one who has been able to help, and he has no idea why I need to know. He doesn’t care to.”

“Carrington has always been this way. He looks at things objectively,” Desdemona fell silent before sitting down across from her when Glory waved at her to. “Often at the expense of acknowledging people aren’t capable of living in complete objectivity.”

“He doesn’t care,” Glory said, running a hand through her hair. “I’ve spent years in this hell of having parts of me that have been unknowable. I don’t care if it kills me. If it helps synths, the same people I hurt doing the Institute’s dirty work, then I’ll do it. I’ll keep going with it. Amari won’t let me die. And, if I do give out, then I’ve paid up for what I let the Institute do to God knows how many synths I dragged back to the Institute.”

“You have nothing to pay up for, Glory,” Desdemona said calmly. “And the last thing I want is for you to feel you have to. You’re a good person, Glory. Do you need time to step back? If you –”

“I don’t need to step back,” Glory snapped, though she swallowed hard when she saw the hurt on her face. “Why do you care, Desdemona? You’re the one who always says we need to focus on saving as many synths as possible. That’s what I want to do.”

“I care because I don’t want to lose you,” Desdemona said gently. “Not only as an agent, Glory, but as someone close to me. A –”

“A friend?” Glory raised an eyebrow when she flinched. “Just another confidant, then?”

“No,” Desdemona said, hesitating. “As someone I love.”

“What?” Glory said, surprised when she hanged her head, looking caught between embarrassment and shame. “Damn you, Des. Why would you keep that secret from me?”

“Because I don’t want to interfere in our work,” Desdemona said with a tired sigh. “And because you’ve been through more than enough, Glory. I have no desire to put my own feelings on –”

“Did you ever think I might feel the same?” Glory shook her head with a small smile. “Again, damn you Des, because I do.”

“You do?” Desdemona stared at her in disbelief. “Since when?”

“About two years ago,” Glory said, standing up to pull the knife out of the cork board. “You were the only person who gave a damn about me beyond my work. The only person I knew I could trust,” She went on, putting the knife away with the others. “That’s not true anymore – just ask Deacon, strange as he is, I trust him with my life – but there’s something about you I can’t put away. And I…didn’t realise what it meant, after having spent my entire life cold until I got away from the emotionless environment of the Institute, until he told me about his wife, Barbara. And what he did for her.”

“Really?” Desdemona managed a small smile when Glory nodded. “Well, I suppose now you know why I’ve always been desperate to keep you, in particular, safe.”

“I do,” Glory said, an unusually calm note in her voice. “And I’m glad for it.”

University Point
July the 4th, 2288
15:17

The people in the Brotherhood Of Steel or, even, willingly tied to them whom had earnt the respect of Dr. Madison Li were few, and nearly all of them were dead.

To say she was shocked to see one of them not only alive but in the Commonwealth was, then, quite the understatement.

Bidding Jacqueline off to see her father whom, seemingly less anxious than usual, himself was outside and enjoying the town’s festivities, Madison paused where she stood, unsure of what to think. Seeing he was not in anything the Brotherhood would have approved their servicemen to wear was a relief, and all but confirmed her years long suspicion he had, in fact, gone on to leave their ranks. The fact he was evidently not a part of the organisation despite the Brotherhood’s rather aggressive arrival in the Commonwealth, too, was a good sign. Yet it was the clear absence of the woman she had never known him to be easily separable from which she found most surprising once the disbelief wore off. Glancing around, she tried to shed her discomfort at the state of the town. You’d think, two centuries after the War, no one would still be celebrating Independence Day and, yet, apparently it's one American tradition not gone away with. Adjusting the sleeves of her blazer and brushing some dust off her pants, she stayed where she was, taking in her surroundings, before, finally, approaching the man she had not seen in nearly a decade when he turned around from talking with a few of the townspeople, his gaze nearer to her and his face just about the same as it had been then. Taken aback by a light feeling of nervousness, Madison sighed, and walked over to him, her heart rate spiking.

“I certainly didn’t expect to see you here,” She said, faintly amused. “I take it you no longer are taking orders from the Brotherhood?”

“Haven’t in several years,” He replied with a surprised smile. “Good to see you, as always, Madison.”

“Likewise,” She said. “I take it you’ve been here a while, Derek? Though, I’m sure, not living in this town.”

He laughed. “A few years. Have lived in Diamond City ever since.”

“Considering there’s less of a pest problem there, I’m sure it’s a welcome change,” She remarked. “Or do you miss the sounds of Rivet City Security scrambling to put down an infestation in the middle of the night?”

“Never in a million years,” He said, briefly and affably embracing her. “Can’t say I’m not happy to see a familiar face. It’s always a welcome –”

Impulse a catalyst she had thought long since done away with, the brief seconds it overtook her were also ones she never thought she would get, and, so, the spunky façade faded. She leaned up a little to kiss him seconds before he let her go. Her heart racing, the scientist let her lips linger on the former soldier’s, disappointment beginning to bloom in her chest when he did not kiss her back. Still hoping something – anything – would change, she lightly pressed herself against him, only to feel the disappointment return when she felt nothing from him. No tightening where their hips met, no change in breath or heart rate, and no drawing her closer nor pressure against her lips. For a few seconds, it felt as though things had stood completely still, and, to sudden, unexpected dismay, Madison realised it was shock, on his part, when he finally pushed her away as carefully as possible. Discomfort with herself rising when she saw the befuddled and disbelieving look on his face, Madison took a small step back. Discomfort soon left her when, hearing footsteps falter near them, she turned to see the petite figure of the former soldier’s wife staring at them, shaken. It was the look of horror almost instantly appearing on his face, however, which left her feeling ill at ease, dread beginning to spread through her being, no more so than when she saw the dismay on the face of the woman she had known well less than a decade prior.

“What I regret most was never telling him how I felt,” She quoted, her voice wavering. “Were you only referring to James when you told me that?”

Madison hesitated. “Hadley, I –”

“What are you doing here?” She said, paranoid caution slipping into her voice. “And why –”

“I’m here because I’m the one…responsible for escorting my most unlikely protégé to her visits with her father. As for…” Madison trailed off seeing the upset on her old friend’s face. “I don’t know. If it’s any consolation, he wasn’t aroused.”

“I’d sure hope not,” Hadley said with an uncharacteristically bitter edge to her voice and all but clinging to her husband when he tightly wrapped an arm around her. “After being married for thirty years, after having four children together and having hoped for more, I’d absolutely hope my husband wouldn’t reciprocate or be interested in being kissed by someone other than me.”

“Hads,” Derek said gently, tucking a stray lock of hair from her ponytail behind her ear. “I’m so sorry, I –”

“You have nothing to feel sorry for. I know precisely the kind of man I married,” She said, warily glancing at Madison who held herself and looked caught between embarrassment and shame. “I can’t believe, all this time, you wanted my husband.”

“If you want me to leave, I can,” Madison raised an eyebrow when Hadley shook her head. “You want me here? Why?”

“Because I have a million questions for you, and most of them have nothing to do with…” Hadley sighed, a bit unsteady. “Who’s…” She fell silent, choosing her words with precision. “First, who’s this ‘unlikely protégé’ of yours? Are you working on projects in the Commonwealth similar to Purity?”

“Similar to Purity? No. As for my unlikely protégé, her name is Jacqueline Spencer and I’m, among other things, helping her prepare for her doctoral thesis. She's also on a team of mine working on nuclear reactor efficiency.”

“Reactor efficiency? Sounds like it could help a lot of people.”

Caught off guard again, Madison narrowed her eyes at the two men approaching them, only to be stunned to recognise one of the two.

“Aren’t you one of the Minutemen?” She said, critically eyeing Preston, who nodded. “I’m surprised you know anything about nuclear reactors.”

“I helped maintain the one in my hometown for years, before I left,” He cordially replied, shaking her hand. “Preston Garvey, Commonwealth Minutemen. I take it you know Derek and Hadley?”

“Yes, from when I lived in the Capital Wasteland,” Madison uneasily replied. “Although I left the region a little less than a decade ago.”

“Can’t say I blame you,” A second man said, approaching the group. “I went down that way a few years ago after following up on a lead about some damn good, cheap scrap, and it was…interesting. I saw the thing the Brotherhood brought to the Commonwealth, and it was just as massive and impressive then. I definitely got the sense they ain’t someone to be messed with.”

“At the same time, we can’t let them bother the people of the Commonwealth for selfish gains,” Preston went on. “Which is why we’re here. I spoke with the mayor – sounds like they’re needing all the help they can get, especially because the Brotherhood bothered them before their leadership’s arrival.”

Madison raised an eyebrow. “Well, it certainly wouldn’t hurt for there to be an extra layer of security here. Given how…relentless the Brotherhood are, any deterrents against them are a good idea.”

“Extra layer?” Sturges eyed her strangely. “The mayor made it sound like we’re the only –”

“I hope I’m not making an unfair assumption but there was a…strangely intense man near the mayor’s office everyone seemed to be desperate to avoid,” Preston briefly paused in thought. “And the only people I’ve heard of who’d still write a doctoral thesis are…”

“Gerald Spencer, your ‘unlikely protégé’s’ father, said she was kidnapped a few years ago,” Hadley narrowed her eyes, suspicious. “You’re with the Institute, aren’t you?”

Madison took a small step back, startled. “And if I am?” She said. “What does it matter?”

“No one knows much about the Institute,” Preston calmly interjected. “Honestly, there are a lot of folks who aren’t even sure they’re real.”

“People assume the Institute isn’t real?” Madison said, rather amused. “Well. Rest assured, Mister Garvey, the Brotherhood are a shared enemy. You have nothing to worry about, but, for your own good, I’d suggest not pressing the people here much further. They have enough to worry about as it is.”

The Commonwealth
July the 6th, 2288
12:29

Of all the things to interfere with the construction of the gantry to prepare for work on Liberty Prime, a gang wearing power armour painted with flames and carrying a CD player attached to excessively loud speakers was not one either Proctor Elisabeth Mischelle Ingram or Proctor Marshall Walter Quinlan had counted on.

Almost amusingly, at first, the Proctors and the teams of Scribes and Knights working quickly realised the group chose, of all genres of music, to play songs from pre-War musicals on repeat. The novelty, however, grew tiresome, and, after hearing one too many songs about defying fate or becoming a villain, it became clear the situation needed to be addressed. Yet, after several Knights returned with their power armour badly damaged and a few of them requiring medical treatment, the Proctors decided, despite not wanting to give the group any semblance of legitimacy, to confront them personally. The uninjured Scribes and Knights given their orders to continue work and call up to the Prydwen if an emergency arose, Proctor Elisabeth Mischelle Ingram and Proctor Marshall Walter Quinlan walked to the other side of the former Boston Logan International Airport. When the gang squatting at the edge of the Brotherhood’s operational territory was in sight, they shared an irritated look before approaching them, the noise from the gang’s speakers worse up close. To their shock, one of the gang members shut the speakers off when they noticed them, and took off the helmet of his power armour with a flourish. Squinting a bit in the bright afternoon light, he quickly accepted the rather large sunglasses a woman sitting in a lawn chair handed him, and slid them onto his face with a slick grin. After he handed his helmet to her, he walked towards the Proctors, smirking and brushing his hands together.

“Look who finally decided to acknowledge our presence,” The man drawled, extending his hand and shrugging when neither Proctor Ingram nor Proctor Quinlan made any attempt to shake it. “Alright, nosebleeds. Just where do you think you are?”

“The former Boston Logan International Airport,” Quinlan condescendingly replied. “Or would you prefer I be more specific? Does latitude forty two point three six five five eight nine and longitude negative seventy one point zero one zero zero two five suffice?”

The man laughed. “You’re in Atom Cats territory,” He said, waving his fellow gang members over. “And this is one of our main scrap yards.”

“Atom Cats?” Ingram snorted. “I’m sorry to disappoint you, but you’re not permitted to be here.”

“Why not?” Another man in power armour challenged. “Because you got that big metal sky bird?”

“And some fancy toys?” A woman in a leather jacket and metal studded shoes said. “Don’t pat yourselves on the backs too much, buster. Those lasers aren’t as impressive as you think.”

“Or as intimidating,” Another woman said with a smirk. “Glad to be finally given the respect of a proper visit, but this has been our scrap yard for the last fifteen years.”

“My biggest accomplishment as a teenager was finding this place,” The first man almost wistfully remarked. “Well, with Duke, of course. Was real good for helping set up our garage.”

“We did a damn good job!” The man presumably called Duke said, slapping his hand against the first man’s. “It was a far out idea, taking up in the place and making it a hell of a spot to get some new digs, food, drinks, and company.”

“So, unless you want to join up with the Cats, you’re the ones encroaching on our territory,” The other man in power armour said, sharing a short, resolved nod with the first man before looking back at the Proctors. “We’ve been here way longer than you. What do you even want our scrap for anyways?”

“That’s none of your concern,” Quinlan coldly informed them. “We have a great deal of work to do here, work which, for the protection of our personnel and our operations, is highly classified. As you do not seem to have a legitimate reason for…staking a claim on the resources here, you’re out of luck.”

“We do have a legitimate reason,” Duke smoothly replied. “We’ve got gunners breathing down our necks, trying to get their mitts on our suits, and we’ve got a few family farms we have to protect. Who the hell are you protecting?”

“The entire Commonwealth,” Quinlan said, his eyes narrowing at the sight of their nonchalant demeanour. “Though I don’t imagine you’re completely unaware, the Commonwealth is facing quite a major threat from the so called Institute, and we are here to put an end to their madness.”

“So, what is this, a charity project of yours?” The woman in a leather jacket and metal studded shoes rolled her eyes. “Sounds more like you want to find an excuse to take advantage of the fear the folks here have about the Institute for your own gain.”

Ingram bristled. “Just who do you think you are?”

“Name’s Rowdy,” The woman replied, blowing her shaggy dark bangs out of her face. “And we ain’t feeling like letting you go and try and steal our scrap just so you can make your fancy ass toys.”

“Unless you’re feeling like sharing,” Duke said, elbowing the first man. “Right, Zeke?”

“If they’re giving them away,” Zeke said, slickly removing his sunglasses to look at the Proctors. “But I get the feeling you ain’t exactly the generous type.”

“You’re trespassing on a military installation,” Ingram said, making no attempt to mask her irritation. “As such, you either have to leave of your own accord, or we will get you off of our site by any means necessary, including by force.”

“Damn, how sweet of you,” The other woman, standing beside Rowdy in a distressed skirt, leggings, boots, and blouse, said tartly. “So, thanks but no thanks. How do you expect us to keep improving our power armour, weapons, and home without access to any of this wonderful scrap?”

“If you’re as skilled scavengers as you’re making yourselves out to be, you don’t need this,” Quinlan said, pursing his lips when Zeke snickered. “We, however, do.”

“Why?” Rowdy bit off. “Because you’re this ‘Brotherhood’ and think we can just take your word for it?”

“So, you got a few options,” The other woman said, draping an arm over Rowdy’s shoulders. “You let us take half the scrap, or we continue to stand off for it.”

“Stand off?” Ingram said, half amused. “You really think you’re going to stand off against the Brotherhood? Do you even know what you’re saying?”

“Roxy knows exactly what she’s saying,” Duke said, smacking his palms against hers, the two of them grinning. “Go ahead. We can wait all damn week.”

“Or longer,” Zeke said with a smug wink. “We’ve stuck it out against people for a long time before just to prove a point, and we’ll do it again. If you know what’s what, you wet rags will find your way back to whatever it is you’re building, and we’ll keep enjoying ourselves over here.”

“Do you honestly think we’re going to be here a week and that’s it?” Ingram said, raising an eyebrow. “If that’s what you think, you’re really underestimating and minimising our capacities.”

“Listen, lady,” Rowdy said, lighting a cigarette and waving a hand dismissively. “The Commonwealth’s only got room for one power armour gang, and we’ve had the claim for almost twenty years.”

“Power armour gang?” Quinlan said, disgusted. “How could you possibly compare us to a gang of raiders such as yourselves?”

“We’re far from raiders,” Zeke snapped. “We fight against raiders, against gunners. Unless you guys prove you’re here to help the people around these parts, then we ain’t ready to trust you.”

“And how are you any different from a power armour gang?” Roxy added, popping the cap off a Nuka Cola she took out of her (decidedly too large) purse. “Because all y’all have a pretty airship and all these massive capabilities?”

“She’s got a point,” Duke said, teasingly elbowing her before scowling at the Proctors. “I wouldn’t be surprised if you’ve got nuclear weapons capabilities, too. And I mean like the ones from before the War.”

“What our capacities are have nothing to do with you,” Ingram sharply replied, letting out an exasperated sigh. “And, if you insist on a stand off, then be aware of the fact we have zero intentions of giving in to you or your nonsense.”

“Really?” Rowdy scoffed. “Guess you intend to fill it with your own nonsense. Take a hike, bitch. You’re underestimating the hell out of who you’re dealing with in us. You have no idea what we are capable of.”

Chapter 24: Something Diverting

Chapter Text

The Commonwealth
July the 8th, 2288
16:29

More than anything else, working with the people of the Commonwealth directly and hearing them want to help each other reminded Preston Garvey why he had to keep going, why he had dedicated his life to being one of the Minutemen.

Though their group had thinned with several members opting to stay behind at a couple of their stops to help either defend or build at settlements supporting their cause, Preston was certain those still travelling northeast towards a small farm which had requested their aid were at no higher risk for attack than usual. At lower risk, even, than they had been just a year prior. Sombre as the memory of Quincy was, it was also becoming further and further away, getting ever closer to being a year removed from the day the gunners attacked; it was not the end and, while it had felt it might be then, things were looking up. The Finch family were able to be reunited, and their son learnt why being a raider helps no one, not even oneself. The couple at Oberland Station are building a small safehouse for people to stay in if needed while travelling the Commonwealth. The Abernathy family have been able to receive closure on the loss of one of their own. The people of University Point don’t have to worry about unwanted attack or intrusion by the Brotherhood again, although… University Point. Knowing the people of the town were safe, and the security provided to them by the Minutemen would help deter the Brotherhood, was a relief. Knowing they were, even minorly, siding with the Institute, however, was unnerving. The woman there, too, the woman who brought the girl from the town home during visits away from the Institute had left him with far more questions than answers, some of which he was unsure he wanted to know the answers to.

The only thing clear about the Institute to him, now, was the fact they were, at least to some extent, willing to work with the people of the Commonwealth but why they wouldn’t do so more openly was something he couldn’t understand.

For as uncomfortable as it was knowing they were, even marginally, on the same page as the Institute for even one thing was, keeping people safe was what mattered most. If the Institute began hurting people in the settlements they were duty bound to protect – including University Point – then they would do what was necessary to protect the people and nothing more. It wasn’t only the Institute he had set the rule for. Still can’t believe I’m the General of the Minutemen, but I’ll do what I have to in order to keep us from falling apart, especially with so many people threatening the innocent people of the Commonwealth. They need protection, and no one can defend themselves completely alone. We all need each other. Passing by an old brewery and onto a bridge into the once intellectually thriving Cambridge area, Preston reached for his musket, hearing the sounds of heavy gunfire growing closer and closer until it was all but consuming the noise in the air when they reached the other side of the bridge. Waiting for the noise to subside, he looked between his companions. Sturges, though he had a gun at the ready, was slowly moving ahead of them to get a first glance over what lay ahead. Derek reloaded his shotgun. Codsworth swiftly followed after Sturges to survey the area. When the noise significantly abated after a few minutes, Preston and Derek shared a long, knowing look before reconvening with the rest of the Minutemen with them, Sturges, and Codsworth.

Reaching one of the main roads cutting through Cambridge, the group paused, a moment, at the sight of carcass after carcass of feral ghouls littering the sides of the roads, all in varying states of decay. Several of the Minutemen grimaced, taken by surprise at the smell of death, and Preston, too, stopped for a moment. Though he quickly regained himself, something about the sight left him unnerved, and he tried not to dwell on it or the thoughts it gave him. This was clearly a fight, a lot of them probably ended up killing each other. It’s a horrible fate, and it wasn’t their fault. It was the War, and the fog. The fog. The second the words came to him, he pushed them away. It was partly cloudy, though not particularly wet. It was a normal day, a normal, quite warm, summer’s day in the Commonwealth. The air was clear, the only haze coming from the lingering scent and colour of gunpowder left from the fight. Taking a look at the people around them as they walked, Preston only raised an eyebrow, startled, when he saw many of them were wearing similar uniforms. They took note of him and the Minutemen every so often, but more, it seemed, the closer they got to what he, as a best guess, supposed might have been a police station before the War. It was only when he noticed the serious, reconstructive efforts taken and going on at the building he found himself truly unsettled, not by the efforts themselves but by the people who were taking them on. About to pass the police station by, he took a few steps back when two men in power armour and a woman in uniform stepped in front of their path, stopping them in their tracks and eyeing all of them critically.

“State your business here, civilians,” One of the men said with a harsh, condescending edge to his voice. “This is a military installation.”

“We’re not looking to cause any trouble,” Sturges said quickly, stepping forward and waving a hand dismissively. “I know I might look like a bruiser, but I try to avoid violence myself, and we don’t want any trouble. We’re just passing through.”

“As he said,” Preston said extending his hand towards the man who simply stared at him in disgust. “I’m Preston Garvey, Commonwealth Minutemen. This here’s Sturges, Derek, and –”

“BR-109KC?” The other man in power armour said, looking at Derek, almost as surprised as he was hearing at the man address him that way. “My apologies for Knight Rhys’ tone, Knight Captain,” The man said, sending the first man a sharp look. “I was given to understand you were no longer on the list of our Brothers and Sisters in the Commonwealth.”

“I informed Elder Maxson I would not be rejoining, not that I would leave the Commonwealth,” Derek replied. “My family and I have quite the good life, settled here, and I’m not going to stop serving the people of the Commonwealth as one of the Minutemen just because the Brotherhood are here now.”

“So you’re choosing to be part of a group of…civilian peacekeepers instead of returning to duty?” Knight Rhys said, disgusted. “You’re either with the Brotherhood or you’re against us. Why would –”

“Knight Rhys, that’s enough. Return to your security patrol,” The other man in power armour ordered. When Rhys nodded, albeit walking off with a suspicious look at the Minutemen, he and the woman turned back to them. “Apologies for Knight Rhys’ tone. Our mission in the Commonwealth had been far from smooth until the arrival of the Prydwen.”

“You guys sure know how to make an entrance, no doubt about that,” Preston remarked. “I just hope the Commonwealth doesn’t get caught in the crossfire of whatever your plans are here.”

“Don’t worry…Garvey, you said?” The man in power armour said with faint, smug smile. “There shouldn’t be a problem for you, as long as you and your Minutemen don’t get in our way. From what I understand of you, your cause is noble. But you remind me of the Brotherhood when Elder Lyons was in charge…unfocused and far too charitable for your own good.”

“Elder Lyons may not have executed his ideals perfectly, but he was focused on ensuring the safety of the people of the Capital Wasteland before the gains of the Brotherhood,” Derek said, his eyes narrowing behind his glasses. “If the Brotherhood want to help the people of the Commonwealth, then the first thing you need to do is earn their trust.”

“We will, but they don’t realise the Brotherhood is the Commonwealth’s last hope for survival. I wish everyone here believed in our cause, but they’ve been blinded by rumours and misinformation,” The man said, pointedly looking at Preston. “I almost forgot to introduce myself. I’m Paladin Danse, and, beside me here, is Scribe Haylen. Our team has been in the Commonwealth for several months, and the one thing we’ve come to know for certain is the necessity of our mission.”

“And what’s your mission, then?” Preston said, surprised by his own boldness. “Because knowing that might ease the fears some folks have about your being here.”

“Understandable,” Danse said, a mildly menacing smile dawning on his face. “We’re here to put an end to the Institute and their abominations…by any means necessary.”

Railroad Headquarters
July the 10th, 2288
10:11

“So…how did things go at University Point?”

Rarely a nervous man, the uncharacteristically irritated and upset look he got from Hadley when she walked through the first set of doors into the crypt and reset the cipher caught Deacon by surprise, even more so when the typically talkative woman said nothing. Uncomfortably following her down the corridor and then through the second door and down the stairs, the enigmatic spy tried to lighten the mood with some small talk of his own, to which she barely responded. He relaxed a little when he realised he wasn’t the only one surprised by the otherwise cheerful if not bubbly woman looking tired, strung out, and upset. Glory almost instantly glowered at him, but her gaze soon shifted to one of shock when it became clear to her Deacon hadn’t said something unintentionally insensitive or disturbing to upset her. Carrington, too, seemed surprised to realise – at least, on the surface – Hadley’s demeanour had nothing to do with Deacon. Stepping over to the map laid out on the crypt’s makeshift centre table, she glanced between Glory, Desdemona, Carrington, Tom, and Deacon before taking a look at their new routes for runners and Heavys. A bit hesitant to do so in her presence, having heard one lecture too many over the years, Desdemona eventually took out and lit a cigarette, sighing when Hadley suddenly looked up and over at her.

“Do you have any to spare?” Hadley said, her voice wavering. “Or is that too much to ask?”

Desdemona eyed her strangely but nevertheless took out another cigarette, lighting and handing it to Hadley who closed her eyes and took a few long draws, her free hand running over her hair and fidgeting with her glasses.

“Don’t look at me like that,” Hadley finally said when she opened her eyes to find Glory staring at her. “I haven’t had a cigarette in over twenty five years, you don’t get to judge me for having one now.”

“I’m not judging,” Glory replied, frowning when the woman took another draw. “But I do have questions up to and including why –”

“I had my first cigarette in twenty five years a few days ago, and I’m perfectly allowed to have another one now,” Hadley snapped, though she fell silent at the tone of her voice. “I’m so sorry, Glory, I shouldn’t have said it like that.”

“Did things at University Point go badly?” Desdemona said, turning worriedly towards her. “I thought, from what I read in the initial report, we got excellent news about the Minutemen striking an alliance with the town. At least, that’s what Deacon led me to believe after retrieving a cursory survey from a dead drop at Bunker Hill yesterday.”

“The town itself is fine,” Hadley said, taking another draw on her cigarette. “There was just an unexpected and very unwelcome discovery while we were there.”

Deacon turned to her in horror. “Did the Deathclaws regroup? If they did, I’m going to –”

“No, your old gang didn’t regroup,” Hadley quickly reassured him. “But it’s far worse. You know how we learnt the Institute had taken a girl from the town? Well, it turns out a dear old friend of mine is one of the people responsible for that.”

“What?” Desdemona said, taken aback. “How did you –”

“She didn’t make it too much of a secret,” Hadley bitterly replied. “Not as though she had to. She’s just about as high up as you can get. Not that she said so herself. I got it from the father of the girl she helped the Institute kidnap. Apparently, my old friend is now one of the leaders of their programmes.”

Deacon let out a low whistle. “That’s a sh*t surprise.”

“Wasn’t the only one,” Hadley said, swearing under her breath and taking yet another long few draws on her cigarette. “But it was the most concerning one. I can’t believe it. I never thought she would ever do something so…just…”

“Sounds weirdly personal,” Deacon said nervously when Hadley sat down, blinking rapidly. “I mean, how –”

“Madison was one of my closest friends, even before we moved to Rivet City,” Hadley said quietly. “I met her when May was three, and I was visiting the city while Derek was deployed. She’s the one who helped foster my son’s skill in and love for science…and, apparently, she’s in love with my husband.”

“One of five people you’re possessive over,” Deacon took a step back when she scowled at him, still blinking rapidly. “You might not like hearing it, Lay, but it’s true.”

“Helpful, Deacon,” Glory said dryly. “And, while none of it’s good, we’ve got a serious problem on our hands. The Institute being active there means we’re at serious risk!”

“Some of it’s good,” Deacon pushed back. “The Minutemen were able to strike an alliance with University Point, and we know for sure now about the Institute having a hand in the town’s day to day. It’s a lot better we learn about it from Lay than from the Institute finding and taking out our headquarters again.”

“Randolph was already on ice, but, you’re right, Deacon, it’s good we know for sure the situation there isn’t safe for our operations,” Desdemona hesitated. “I don’t think it’s controversial, anymore, to say we have to cut them loose. With Institute operations being right there, it’s officially far too risky.”

Glory nodded. “Are you going to be able to keep working in the field?” She said, raising an eyebrow when she saw Hadley brush aside tears. “I know it might sound harsh, but this is a lot more important than –”

“Do you honestly think I don’t care about rescuing synths just because I know one of the Institute’s leaders well?” Hadley exclaimed. “Of course I’m still going to be able to work in the field! I’m just going to need to take a step back for a little after Derek and the Minutemen return from responding to a request for aid from a few settlements a bit farther to the north!”

“You’re being too emotional about all of this, Hadley,” Glory said, pushing away a faint bit of frustration clawing at her. “Whomever this woman was when you knew her a decade ago doesn’t matter. She’s with the Institute, and she’s –”

“Madison Li isn’t just an old friend or an Institute official, now,” Hadley said, falling silent and taking another draw. “She was one of the few people willing to stand up to the Brotherhood when they did something wrong, when things they –”

“Li?” Glory repeated, her voice darkening. “Is she Dr. Li?”

Hadley stared at her, confused. “Yes, but why?”

“She’s more than any other Institute leader,” Glory said coldly. “She’s one of the people responsible for what they did to me. What they made me do as a Courser.”

“sh*t, she’s right…” Deacon turned to Glory. “Wasn’t she the one you…well, I guess Amari helped you remember…wasn’t she the one who mentioned something about a Courser chip and a Molecular Relay?”

“She was,” Glory said, anger simmering. “Every time that bitch shows up in my memories, she’s a smug, condescending –”

“She’s not that bad,” Hadley said, pausing when she realised she had snapped at her again. “I can’t say I’m happy about…about any of this, but she’s not a bad person, Glory. She’s…”

“She’s one of them, so, yes, Hadley, she is a bad person,” Glory shook her head. “How can you say she’s anything but a bad person when you just told us you learnt she’s spent years wanting your husband and is at the top of one of the Institute’s programmes?”

“Because I can still know someone while being angry at them and…” Hadley shook her head, drawing on her cigarette. “I don’t know what to think of her right now, but I don’t…she’s not…”

“Take a break, Hadley, get yourself together,” Glory said, softening her tone when she realised the woman was still trying not to cry. “You told us what we need to know, which is a hell of a lot more than we thought we’d ever get about University Point, so step back and get yourself together while we make sure things keep going the way they’re supposed to around here because, clearly, you’re in no state to anymore.”

Goodneighbour
July the 13th, 2288
22:48

“How are you feeling?”

“Better than I have been and…thanks. You didn’t have to do anything for me.”

“After all you’ve done for me and Duncan? I wanted to, and it’s good to see you smile.”

Laughing lightly when Robert Joseph MacCready reached for her hand, Annette Davis happily twined her hand around his, letting him twirl her, her skirt fanning out and her nearing calf length hair flying up. The blue light of the Third Rail made her light pink dress seem to change colour as they moved; pink or blue and, sometimes, one of the dress’ long sleeves would briefly seem purple. Forwards and back, right to left, twirl and pull close, twirl out and let go, reach out and pull close. Linger. Her hands resting lightly on his chest, Annette smiled, only briefly startling when he accidentally knocked her reading glasses out from where they were loosely hanging, folded up against the v-neck of her dress. Catching them, she began to laugh a little again when he apologetically looped his arms tighter around her and briefly kissed her. With one last twirl when the song was over, MacCready wrapped an arm lightly around her waist before the two of them finally sat down at the bar. Gruff and irritable as usual, the robot bartender began muttering swears when MacCready and Annette handed him caps for their drinks but grudgingly handed over her decidedly full glass of wine and his whiskey. Used to Whitechapel Charlie’s sarcasm, it was only then, when he saw the look of almost motherly approval Magnolia was giving him out of the corners of his eye, he realised his face was warming a little, and he reached over for Annette’s free hand. He smiled when she held onto and squeezed it, though he paused when he realised she was staring at him.

“I’m not drinking funny, am I?” He laughed when she shook her head. “You alright?”

“Just happy you’re here,” She replied, squeezing his hand again. “It’s been a while since I’ve had a good birthday. I’m curious, though – how’d you find out I love to dance?”

“You know how you found out things about me from Daisy and Magnolia?” He teased. “Works both ways, Netta.”

“Netta?” She said softly, setting down her wine with a smile. “That’s the nickname you came up with?”

“And doll,” He said, surprised when she reached over and kissed him. “Take it you like it?”

“I do,” She happily replied. “And thanks for taking me out…it’s really sweet of you.”

“Couldn’t leave you alone on your birthday,” He said, lightly teasing. “But, really,” He set down his whiskey. “I’m glad to have met you.”

Annette blushed. “I’m glad to have met you too, Bobby. I…I think things are…well, they’re certainly going better than they have in a long time.”

“Seems that’s been true for both of us,” He said, affectionately squeezing her hand. “Don’t let me forget, but Duncan has something he wants to give you tomorrow morning. He…reminded me of it before I left and I thought he should do it himself. Speaking of which, close your eyes.”

“Alright,” Annette said, taking a sip of her wine again before doing so. “Whatever you want to do, go ahead.”

“Give me your hand,” He said, letting his fingers playfully dance on the palm of her hand for a few seconds before taking something out of his pocket and clasping it around her wrist. “Take a look.”

Annette glanced to him in surprise nearly the second she saw what he’d put on her wrist.

“How’d you know I love butterflies?” She whispered, looking between him and the delicate gold bracelet and its pink butterfly charm. “I don’t think I ever…”

“Duncan told me,” MacCready admitted, smiling when she kissed him again. “He said you told him why you said it was good luck when a butterfly landed on his head the other day. I thought it was really sweet, and I saw this while I was in Diamond City and knew I had to get it for you.”

“It’s perfect,” Annette said, briefly blinking back tears. “Thank you, Bobby…for this, for…for…”

“Had to keep things even after what you did for me on my birthday,” MacCready said, kissing her cheek and brushing her long hair over her shoulder. “Like I said, I keep things nice and even.”

“You don’t have to, but I do appreciate it,” She said, leaning into him when he gently wrapped an arm around her again. “It’s been a while, it really has…and maybe that was for the best.”

“You went through a lot, a lot no one should have put you through,” MacCready said, his free hand affectionately treading through her hair. “What that Brotherhood leader did to you was wrong, and I can’t even imagine how the one good relationship you had before and after that breaking down felt.”

“It was my fault,” Annette said quietly. “I pushed Amata away, the last two years we were together. I’d been…home for about three, four years, just about, and until then things had been great. I don’t think I’d have gotten past any of what happened during…well, during my time as a Brotherhood ‘civilian medical student’ without her. But it doesn’t change what I…”

“You don’t know anything about love, anymore, do you?”

“I’ll be better, I’ll be around more, I’m trying to drink and smoke less, I’m trying to sacrifice –”

“You’re so full of your own lies, Annette. Maybe if you were willing to leave the Vault, you’d see it.”

“Even if it was your fault, you’ve clearly changed a lot since then,” MacCready said, and she nodded weakly but sighed. “And you’re not the same as you were when you left for the Commonwealth, either.”

“Does it matter, though? I spent nearly two years sleeping with my best friend to make Amata jealous after she married someone else, and I hurt him when I left because I hadn’t gotten attached but he had,” Annette hesitated. “When Amata announced her engagement to Winifred for the entire Vault to know, I drank nearly a whole bottle of wine at the event and then threw a glass at Winifred’s head after Amata and I got in an argument and she asked me if I were going to cry. No, I wasn’t, I was going to…”

“Having been a selfish, bitter, and angry person at one point doesn’t mean it’s who you really are. Heck, I was once too,” MacCready shook his head. “Even after Lucy and I had Duncan, I…she never knew what I really was. What I really do. I never had it in me to tell her. Most women I’ve met – when it’s not been casual – have not wanted anything to do with me once they learnt I have a kid and especially after they learnt I’m a mercenary. You don’t judge me for it, and I’m not going to judge you for where you’ve been.”

“You do everything for your son, it’s admirable,” Annette said, twining her hands around his and looking up at him. “He couldn’t be luckier to have you. Duncan’s a sweet kid, and he has just as sweet a man to call his father.”

“More than anything, really, I’m just proud of him,” MacCready said, squeezing her hands. “The kid stared death in the face and wasn’t too afraid to fight back, and, now, he’s gotten better. I haven’t seen him this happy in so long and, now I’m not constantly…now the thought of him dying isn’t floating around in my mind every second of every day, I’m relieved he’s getting to be a normal kid again.”

“Being sick wasn’t fun, but I read a lot! I can read almost anything, I bet, daddy!” Duncan had excitedly babbled, not caring his wet hair was getting his pyjamas damp while his father began brushing and braiding his hair for the night. “You and Daisy are good. And I like your special friend.”

“I like her too,” MacCready had said with a smile. “I like her quite a bit, actually.”

“You see her on her birthday soonish, right?” Duncan had grinned, turning back to look at his father, who briefly paused braiding his little boy’s hair. “I think I know the perfect thing for her.”

MacCready had laughed. “And what is it?”

“The soldier,” Duncan had said simply, startling his father. “It’ll keep her safe. I want her safe.”

MacCready had, after a moment, nodded.

“I want her safe too.”

“I think you’re beautiful, and a lovely person, Netta,” MacCready said, taking a few seconds to sweetly kiss her. “And, even though we can’t change the past, we can choose to be better people…you clearly have, and I try to as well.”

“You are a good person, Bobby,” Annette said, squeezing his hands. “And it shows.”

Diamond City
July the 17th, 2288
13:31

“Just look at this beauty and the way it captures the light. Had to leave after getting it, though, because it was bloody disgusting there but look at how gorgeous this is! So, here I am – too disgusted to keep going with Nicky, Nora, and Piper, and too eager to show off me new knife to everyone I know. The jewel encrusted hilt and the pure silver blade make this one of the most gorgeous knives I’ve ever seen!”

Cait grinned and pulled her newest knife away from Rowdy, who was all but transfixed by it, eyes wide when she finally was handed it to get a closer look. Beside her, Lissy was almost giddy in curiosity, and all but leaned over Rowdy’s shoulder to get a better look at the knife. Winking, Cait teasingly blew the both of them a kiss before leaning back against the bar and grabbing her bottle of moonshine from behind her. Popping the cap off and taking a long sip of it, the former cage fighter closed her eyes, for a moment, and hummed to herself. Holding the knife up to the light, slow and delicate, Rowdy let out a low whistle in approval, running the tip of her finger against the sharp blade, careful not to draw blood. Curiousity getting the better of her, Lissy took the knife from Rowdy, focused more on the jewels than the blade, eyes widening behind her glasses when it seemed clear they were, most likely, real. Shifting her gaze to the blade, the twenty two year old began excitedly babbling with Rowdy about its impeccable construction. When she and Rowdy handed the knife back to Cait, the former cage fighter tossed the knife up in the air and caught it by the blade without accidentally cutting herself on it as though it were nothing. Noticing Travis stepping into the bar, Cait waved him over, excited to show off her new knife to yet another person, the thrill of getting a new toy (read: weapon) far from having worn off.

Ever cautious, Travis nervously approached them, the memory of the bar fight still a little too fresh in his mind. Seeing Rowdy didn’t have her studded baseball bat with her made him feel a bit better. Seeing Lissy was drinking in the early afternoon did not, and he shuddered a little at the thought of what else she might accidentally tell him, very much unsettled to know she and the Cats had been, in part, the ones who convinced Vadim to cause a fight in his honour. For my honour. They meant well, especially Vadim. Can’t really imagine life without him, never have, even when he was just my only real friend. A bit awkwardly, he sat down at the bar next to Cait, who winked at him and began twirling the knife in her hands. To his surprise, it was completely polished and clean with not a speck of dried blood in sight. Trying not to laugh at the novelty of it, Cait’s fondness for knives usually an unsettling reminder of her abilities as a former cage fighter, he focused on the hilt of the knife. At the end of it, so far as he could tell, was a perfectly cut, round emerald. Gold rose up the knife from the emerald, almost as though the emerald were the ground and gold little trees were growing from it. Then the dark, polished stone forming the underlying hilt could be seen in peeks, distracted from by more, albeit smaller, emeralds adorning it before more gold began and reached up to the start of the blade. The silver of the blade was almost reflective, and the tip of the blade hinted at just how sharp the knife really was. Nervous again at the realisation, Travis scooted a little away on the bar stool, uncomfortably smiling when Cait turned and grinned at him.

“Fancy testing this beauty out?” She said, offering him the knife. “You can use it to uncap a pop, or de-cork a bottle of wine. I wouldn’t object to either of those, just so you know.”

“Although, if it were a sword, you could do a champagne sabrage,” Lissy remarked, pushing up her glasses. “They did it at Brotherhood promotion ceremonies. It was pretty neat.”

“Sounds…dangerous,” Travis said, unnerved. “As for the knife…Cait, you...it's a nice looking knife. Looks really expensive…you didn’t steal it off caravaners or anything, did you?”

“Got it as a weird f*cking ‘present’ of sorts from a serial killer,” Cait shrugged when he took in a sharp breath, nervous. “Don’t worry about it, Travis, he ain’t going to come out and hunt you down. He’s got a bunch of raiders to decapitate and paint with, after all.”

“Bloody disgusting,” Lissy said with a snicker. “Bet he thought he was real clever.”

“Serial killers – and raiders in general, really, – ain’t exactly the brightest,” Rowdy said offhandedly. “I mean, I definitely wasn’t when I was constantly f*cked up all the time as a raider, but I think just starting out from the f*cking offset will tell you just how dumb a lot of these motherf*ckers really are.”

“I’d like to avoid raiders at all costs, thanks,” Travis shook his head. “Sounds awful. I really don’t want to have to deal with people like that.”

Cait shrugged. “You do you,” She perked up again with a grin when she saw Yefim coming over to them. “You giving us free drinks? I wouldn’t mind taking a crack at breaking Vadim’s record for number of shots done in two minutes.”

“You’ll have to wait to do them with him,” Yefim irritably replied, crossing his arms and stopping no more than two feet away from them. “Speaking of, we need to talk.”

Rowdy raised an eyebrow, amused. “What do you mean? Dimy sleeping off a bad hangover again?”

“No,” Yefim said, struggling to keep himself calm. “They took him! They took Vadim!”

Travis paled, hands beginning to shake. “Wh…what?”

“Those men, the ones who messed with you,” Yefim anxiously explained. “They came back, said Vadim owed them money, that they had a deal. He wouldn’t pay, and they grabbed him and said they’d make him pay! And then they just dragged him out!”

“Dragged him out?” Lissy snorted. “Did they hit him over the head with a frying pan or something? And then did they go and somehow drug security to make sure no one noticed?”

“This is serious!” Travis snapped, turning to her and scowling when she nonchalantly sipped her beer. “He could be in a lot of danger! What if they plan to –”

“How well did he know those guys?” Rowdy calmly cut in, looking to Yefim. “They former friends or something?”

“They used to party together, though they hadn’t spent a lot of time around each other for years. I told him, when he came up with the idea and was talking at me – ‘Vadim, don’t hire those rascals again!’ But did he listen? No!” Yefim let out an aggravated growl, throwing his hands up in exasperation. “No, he doesn’t listen, and now he’s been taken!”

Cait nodded. “So…do you got any idea where –”

“No bar fights!” Yefim suddenly turned towards where, in one corner of the bar, a man was choking another man he was with using his whole arm in one corner. “For God’s sake,” He muttered when the man let his companion go before they both sat normally and clinked their beer flasks together. “I know they hole up in an old brewery,” Yefim said when he turned back to Cait, Lissy, Rowdy, and Travis. “Beantown, I think it’s called.”

“Been there before,” Rowdy mused. “Not a great place, but definitely where raiders hole up.”

Yefim sighed. “Please, I am begging the four of you, he’s my only brother. I know he’s stupid, but he’s family. I can’t lose him. I know he makes terrible decisions, but he’s the only family I have and I can’t run this place alone.”

“Vadim’s missing?” Scarlett said, stepping over to him, twirling a broom in her hands. “What happened?”

“Those men kidnapped him,” Yefim said. “The ones who messed with Travis. I already told them,” He gestured at the four at the bar in front of them. “We need to get him back.”

“If you can hold down the fort here, I can help,” Scarlett smiled when he nodded. “We’ll get him back, Yefim. Don’t worry.”

“Sounds fun,” Lissy said, downing her beer. “Especially with Cait and Rowdy.”

“I have been wanting to test out my new gun,” Rowdy said almost wistfully. “It’s almost space like and a P50.”

“We’ll find him soon, Yefim, don’t worry,” Cait added, hopping up and brandishing her knife. “Picking a fight with raiders is good fun.”

“Vadim’s one of the only people who’s ever been there for me unconditionally,” Travis’ voice wavered for a moment, but he took up a look of resolve. “And I’m not going to let anything awful happen to him. This is bad enough…but I am going to get him back.”

Goodneighbour
July the 21st, 2288
19:10

Despite having heard a lot about the city, Nora Jacqueline Norwich realised, briefly startling her, she had never set foot in Goodneighbour before. Thinking she might have, however, was disorienting.

Walking through the gates with Piper and Nick, the first thing Nora noticed was how different it was to Diamond City. In some ways, it looked more polished; the streets were paved by stone and brick, while many of the buildings were constructed with neatly made bricks, glass windows, and wood and stone roofs. In other ways, it was less polished; empty bottles of alcohol were littered about, some of them completely shattered, and drug paraphernalia was left laying around, too. Then, there was also the man who had met them just past the gate and only backed down on trying to extort them when Piper pulled out her gun. He all but ran off and down the street before disappearing around the corner. When she was sure they wouldn’t be bothered again, Nora took another look around. There were two stores on the first floor of an apartment building, one three stories high and either untouched by the War or well repaired in the two centuries since then. One of the two stores was a fairly busy market, manned by a sweet looking woman, and left unbothered by her customers despite being a ghoul. Crazy how McDonough doesn’t let ghouls into Diamond City…most of them are just like us. The other store, just as busy, surprised her when she realised it was manned by an assaultron. She stopped, nervousness grabbing her before Piper elbowed her and the two of them and Nick began down the street, some of the streetlights already on despite the sun not fully gone on the horizon yet.

Shifting her bag on her shoulders, Nora’s fingers began to wrap around the strap. Piper hummed to herself, slipping her gun back into her purse, and Nick kept looking around, seemingly suspicious of their surroundings. When they turned the corner, Nora’s eyes widened in surprise at the sight of the Scollay Square sign. Didn’t the reconstruction of the historical Scollay Square finish a few years before the War? The original had been destroyed in the 1950s and redeveloped, hadn’t it? Then, the Commonwealth wanted to rebuild parts of history in the city during the 2040s and took down the redevelopment to resurrect the historic look and layout. At least, that’s what we were taught in middle school, in ‘Massachusetts History’ class. The sounds of shouting drawing her back from her memories, Nora laughed when she saw the shouting had been from two boys, no older than thirteen, wrestling in the street. Nick chuckled briefly, too, and Piper smirked before whispering something to Nora about how Nat had fought Peter Pembroke for trying to kiss her. It was only when a woman stepped out of the large building under the Scollay Square sign and approached them they stopped, a bit startled. Nora tensed, but relaxed, a little, when it was clear Nick knew the woman.

“Well, well,” She drawled, setting a hand to her hip when she reached Nick. “Mister Valentine. I thought you had forgotten about little ole me.”

“May have walked out of the Den, Irma, but I’d never walk out on you,” Nick replied. “What’s going on?”

“Follow me,” She said, then waving at Nora and Piper to follow after her too. “This is a conversation needing to happen in the Den.”

Her body tensing a bit, anxiety coursing through her veins again, Nora glanced between Nick and Piper before quickly walking with them into the building behind the woman called Irma. She raised an eyebrow when they entered the low lit hallway and, then, the main atrium. Walls painted red, purple, and gold, dark wood floors, red, plush chairs and chaise lounges with some strange looking chairs within which a few people were sat in, a pod over their heads. Sashaying over to an older woman typing at a computer terminal at the left end of the atrium nearby a stairwell, the woman called Irma came over and rested her arms atop the computer terminal, smiling coyly at the woman typing. When she looked up, the older woman sighed, saved what she had been typing, and then gently pushed her arms off the top of the computer terminal. She looked between Irma and Nick, her eyes narrow and critically observing them, before glancing briefly at Nora and Piper. A bit intimidated by the woman, Nora took a small step back. Piper reached into her back pocket and pulled out her notepad and pen, fidgeting with them and hoping to hear something – anything – worth reporting on.

“I received a rather surprising package from Lorainne and Amelia this afternoon,” The older woman said, frowning at Nick. “A cryogenically sealed package. I assume you know exactly what’s inside it.”

“I do,” Nick said, unfazed. “And it’s important, Amari.”

“Well, in that case...” She replied. “What is this about?”

“We need your help,” Nick said, looking to Nora. “This is Nora Norwich. She’s searching for her son, who’s been kidnapped by a man named Kellogg, whom was, himself, working for the Institute.”

“How am I supposed to be able to help?” Amari said, suspicion tinging on the periphery of her voice. “I’m no investigator, Nick, I’m simply a neurologist.”

“Which is why we need you,” Nick said, and she eyed him critically. “We need a deep dig, Amari, but it’s not going to be easy because the perp, Kellogg, is already cold on the floor. I know it’s asking for a miracle, but you’ve pulled off the impossible before.”

“Are you two mad?” Amari gaped at him and Nora. “Putting aside the fact you’re asking me to defile a corpse, you do realise the memory simulators require intact, living brains to function, don’t you?”

“Technically,” Piper said, awkwardly bobbing on her toes. “The corpse has already been defiled.”

“I doubt I want to know how or why,” Amari coldly told her, turning back to Nick. “What’s cryogenically preserved?”

“His head but, specifically, his brain,” Nick said calmly. “This dead brain had inside knowledge of the Institute, Amari. You need at least some of what may be in the old merc’s head, and so do we.”

Amari sighed. “Fine. I’ll take a look, but no guarantees,” She looked to Nora. “Come with me. Nick as well, of course.”

“Wait, I can’t –” Piper began to protest.

“This is a very complicated matter, Miss Wright,” Amari said, raising a hand to silence her. “The less people in my laboratory for something this…questionable, the better.”

“But –” Piper started again.

“Listen to her, Piper,” Nick said pointedly. “Amari knows what she’s doing.”

Piper hesitated but eventually relented and walked over to a couch at the other end of the atrium, sat down, and took out a book, beginning to read. She looked over the top of her book every so often, watching Nick and Nora speaking with Amari in hushed tones. Irma stepped over to one of the chaise lounges and sat down, and Piper awkwardly looked away when the woman winked at her, disconcerted by her mannerisms. I know this place technically is just a place for people to relive their memories but everyone and their mother knows it’s also a high end brothel. I’d rather not have to witness any of that. Flipping through the novel, she tried to focus though she found her mind a bit too curious. Lighting up a cigarette and pouring herself a glass of wine, Irma watched her for a moment before looking back at where Amari was still speaking with Nick and Nora. She glanced away when a few people came into the atrium, customers, and she directed three of them upstairs and two of them to sit down and wait, which they did, though on a couch on the other side of the room from Piper, who barely noticed them, apparently having finally gotten herself into her book. With a hint of a smile, Irma looked back at Amari, Nora, and Nick, and waved at her business partner before she, the lawyer, and the detective disappeared around the corner towards the stairs.

“Do you know how fast a brain decomposes?” Amari said sharply, beginning down the stairs with Nora and Nick. “Preserved or not, I doubt you got it into decent preservation quickly enough after death.”

“We did our best to keep it from decaying over the course of about a week before we were able to get it back to Diamond City and preserved,” Nick explained. “Getting back to Diamond City itself took only about four days, but we had to be careful to avoid running into any confrontation as we had to transport…quite a bit. The first two days after the old merc died, we had to regain our bearings. Things were…discombobulating, to put it lightly.”

“That gives me very little hope,” Amari told him. “Much of the brain had likely severely decomposed by the time you got it preserved.”

“It wasn’t a normal brain,” Nora said, and Amari paused to eye her strangely. “There were these…cybernetics. We have no idea how deeply entwined they were in his actual brain. All we know is it was almost certainly put there by the Institute.”

“If that’s so, it could make things much more difficult,” Amari cautioned her. “Institute technology is incredibly complex. How much contact have you had with Institute technology before?”

“I…I don’t think much,” Nora said, rubbing her neck. “I haven’t been…I haven’t been out here a long time. I…I was born before the War. And I…my son, my husband, and I…we survived in a Vault. Where we were cryogenically frozen alongside over a thousand others, our neighbours, our…”

“Dear God,” Amari looked between her and Nick when the three of them entered her laboratory. “Alright, then,” She said, closing and locking the double doors into her lab. “Let’s see what we can manage.”

Chapter 25: Something Remembered

Chapter Text

Goodneighbour
July the 21st, 2288
20:00

In the over forty years since she had begun work as a doctor, Dr. Madeline Rebecca Amari had never once been asked to handle any parts of a corpse other than on the rare occasion of having to perform an autopsy. Being asked to do so almost completely out of the blue was, understandably, far from ideal.

Ensuring one last time the doors into her laboratory were locked, Amari walked over to where, still in the cryogenic storage box it had been brought to her in, Kellogg’s head was sitting on top of a table. Discomfort taking hold of her body, she pulled on a pair of nitrile examination gloves and, cautiously, began to unlock the box. Her nose wrinkled at the scent of death emanating from the head and, delicately, she lifted up and turned it to take a look at the state of the man’s skull and, within it, his brain. To little surprise though to her disappointment, a few bullet holes were visible in the skull through the scalp and neck. Trying not to dwell on the fact the head had been severed from the neck down, Amari pursed her lips and, picking up a small surgical drill, began to drill a few holes in the top of the head to make removing parts of his skull easier. As she carefully removed pieces of his skull, she set them aside in a container marked Biohazard and, eventually, she was able to get a good look at what was left of the man’s brain inside his skull. More of it than she had expected remained, though significant degeneration was still present. What caught her attention, however, were the cybernetics attached to his brain, as had been told to her.

“I don’t know if I should say this is better or worse than I anticipated,” Amari finally said, turning to where Nora and Nick were anxiously standing a few feet behind her. “On the one hand, the preservation was sufficient in keeping what you had from degenerating further, but, on the other, the degeneration is still significant and, most importantly, irreversible. I practise neurological medicine and science, not fantastical whims, never mind what Irma and her…interesting décor choices would have you think.”

“But do you think there’s any way to work with what we have?” Nora said, her voice wavering. “I know it’s desperate, and I wish there were more but I…”

“These cybernetics are remarkable and do appear to have had a part in preventing degeneration of the brain matter they’re connected to,” Amari cut in, glancing to Nick. “This appears to be a neural interface. Institute technology, of course.”

Nick frowned. “Those circuits look awfully familiar.”

“I’m not surprised. From what I’ve seen, all Institute technology has a similar architecture,” Amari said, examining the brain. “As I said, the decay on the brain matter it’s attached to is significantly less than what the interface isn’t attached to, which means the tech is probably preserving the tissue, injecting some kind of compound into it to keep it stable. However, there’s no way to access anything within it – memories or not – without a compatible port.”

“You talking about me? I’m an older model synth, so, if the Institute built me out of similar parts, we might have an in,” Nick said, surprised. “Is there a chance you could remove it from the merc’s head and connect it to mine?”

“What?” Nora exclaimed, turning to him, horrified. “Couldn’t…wouldn’t doing something…couldn’t it kill you?”

“There’s plenty of room in my head,” Nick dryly replied. “Why not?”

“For one thing, there could be long term side effects,” Amari pointedly informed him. “I don’t even know where to begin with listing the risks, considering I’d be wiring something to your brain.”

“Don’t worry about me, Amari,” Nick shook his head. “I’m well past the warranty date anyway. Your hands are the safest place a brain can be.”

“Nick, there’s…” Nora fell silent, unsure of what to say. “Do you really think this will work?”

“No idea,” He admitted. “But we got a missing kid on the line, and that’s worth the risk.”

Amari pursed her lips, looking between the two of them.

“Fine,” She said after a minute. “Mister Valentine, if you would, please sit down on the chair over there near my computer. And Miss…Norwich, yes? You can either sit on the couch or you can stand near Mister Valentine but, please, do not touch anything.”

“Understood,” Nora said, shivering a bit in the heavily air conditioned room. “Nick?” She said, stepping over to where he had sat down. “Thank you. I appreciate this more than I…more than I can say.”

“You can thank me when we find your son,” Nick told her, glancing at Amari, who was carefully removing the parts of Kellogg’s brain attached to the interface. “Ready whenever you are, Amari.”

“I hope so,” She said, taking a moment to examine the interface and what she had removed from the rest of Kellogg’s brain. “Alright. Here we go.”

“If I start cackling like an old, grizzled mercenary, pull me out, okay?” Nick half jokingly said when she approached him. “That’s all I ask.”

“You’re certainly more willing to be lighthearted about something so drastic than I am,” Amari noted, stepping around him, removing his hat and handing it to him, and examining the back of his head. “Let’s see here…” She mused, attempting to align the implant with the ports visible at the back of Nick’s head. “I need you to keep talking to me, Mister Valentine,” She warned as she carefully began to attach the ports of the interface to ones which appeared to coincide with those at the back of Nick’s head. “Any slight or sudden change to your cognitive functions could be dire.”

“Got it,” Nick said, then swearing under his breath. “sh*t.”

Amari hesitated. “Are you feeling any different?”

“There’s a lot of flashes…static,” Nick said, his hands and arms twitching a bit while she finished attaching the implant to his head. “I can’t make sense of any of it.”

“That’s what I was afraid of,” Amari sighed. “The mnemonic impressions are encoded. It appears the Institute has one last failsafe. There’s a lock on the memories in the implant.”

“Tell me you have a way past this,” Nick said, swivelling in the chair to face her. “You’re the most brilliant person I’ve ever met, and I’ve met quite a few bright minds over the years.”

“You’re asking me to take an even further, drastic step,” Amari sharply informed him. “The connexions appear stable, and I can remove it safely when we are done. However, what you are asking me to do is to get around the interface’s failsafe. Its encryption is too strong for a single mind, but could – potentially – be accessible if we used two.”

Nora stared at her in disbelief. “Have you…ever done that before?”

“A couple of times, yes, but I will not disclose the personal information of my patients,” Amari replied, crossing her arms. “This would require loading you, Miss Norwich, and Mister Valentine into the memory loungers and running your cognitive functions in parallel to permit him to act as a host for your consciousness to drive through whatever memories we can find.”

“Then, let’s get this show on the road,” Nick said, standing up and walking over to the memory lounger closest to him and sitting down. “Memory simulations can feel like you’re free falling all the time,” He cautioned Nora, who hesitantly sat down in the other memory lounger, guided by Amari. “But it’ll be alright. Just be careful when you’re cruising through Kellogg’s mind. I’m hooked up to it, after all.”

“I will be,” Nora said, trying not to panic when Amari pulled back her hair and attached nodules to her head. “I just hope this doesn’t lead us to another dead end.”

“Keep your fingers crossed,” Amari told her, stepping over to her computer terminal and lowering the screens of the loungers. “I have no clue what we’ll see in there, as we don’t have access to the whole brain through the interface. I doubt it’ll be cohesive.”

Taking a look over the information displaying on her computer, Amari walked over to Nick and attached a few, additional nodules to his head. Checking him and Nora one last time, she returned to her computer terminal, and started the programme. I suppose the development of this additional programme with Glory, Deacon, and, now, Desdemona is a good thing for this endeavour but, still, this is far from… Letting out a heavy sigh, she pulled over her desk chair and sat down in front of her computer, beginning the process of syncing Nora and Nick’s cognitive functions with a great deal of trepidation. Closing his eyes, Nick calmly surrendered himself to the process, though he was well aware his heart was beating faster than usual, writing it off to natural anxiety. Nora, feeling sick to her stomach, began wrapping and unwrapping her fingers around each other. Then, everything turned white, then black, then blue, and, suddenly, she was standing in the middle of a room with a rusty bed, upon which laid a thin, ratty blanket and two equally ratty pillows. A small dresser was nearby, and a few posters were plastered on the wall. A boy was sitting on the bed, reading comic books, and, by a chair a few feet away, there was a woman fussing with a radio on the nightstand next to the bed. Trying to ease the panic suddenly gripping her, Nora tried looking for her hands only to see nothing, though she felt herself jump, frightened, upon hearing a distant voice enter the room.

“Good. The simulation appears to be working,” Amari’s voice said, breaking through the simulation. “The memories are quite fragmentary, but I’ll run you through each of the intact memories the best I can, in order. Let’s hope one of them will give us some clue to the Institute’s location. This is the earliest intact memory I can find, but, remember, you are experiencing these memories as Kellogg, which will be, I’m certain, disorienting.”

“I…” Nora gasped, hearing not her voice but Kellogg’s. Wrapping her arms tightly around herself or, at least, trying to without being able to see herself at all, she tried to focus. “God…”

“And that makes it official, folks,” A voice emanated from the radio once the woman got it on. “The final vote count from the Hub is fifty five percent in favour of joining the New California Republic. The addition of another –”

“Jesus Motherf*cking Christ!” A voice bellowed through the door out of the room. “Turn down that goddamn radio! I'm trying to sleep!"

"Keep taking the Lord’s name in vain, and I’ll make it louder,” The woman muttered to herself, though she did turn the volume down significantly before going to the chair and looking over at the boy. “I hope you’ve read your Bible passages for the day, Connie, before you started reading those comics.”

“Yes, mother,” He said, and Nora took a step back. “Do you need a recitation? I read Ecclesiastes today, as you told me to. Twelve, one through eight partially reads ‘men are afraid of a high place and of terrors on the road. Remember him before the silver cord is broken and the golden bowl is crushed. Then, the dust will return to the earth as it was, and the spirit will return to God who gave it.’”

“Good, Connie. Your memory never ceases to impress me,” She shook her head. “Remember, for me – ‘there is nothing you can say or do to separate you from the love of God who made you just exactly as he made you, and you cannot imagine all the places you’ll see Jesus, but you’ll find him everywhere you thought he wasn’t supposed to go, so go.’ Don’t you remember those words from my favourite song?”

“From the only disc thing you own, yeah,” He shrugged. “But didn’t dad break it or something?”

“He did, but he can’t break what you already know in your heart,” She said, going over to the dresser and taking something out. “You’re ten, nearly eleven, now, Connie,” She said, handing him what she had removed which, to Nora’s shock, was a gun. “This is the one great equaliser in the world. Use it if you need to.”

“I will,” He said, not noticing as Nora approached him. “Thanks, mom, for –”

Nora leapt back when his words stopped upon her reaching out to touch him, and she tried not to begin panicking again when things faded, a little, and Kellogg’s voice broke into the silence, musing.

“I was such a dumbass, back then. What did I know about how the world worked?” A pause. “I think, now, she wanted me to kill dad. I should have but, instead, I ended up running away. Told myself I wanted to find somewhere out from under the thumb of the NCR and all their damn rules but, really, I was running from the guilt. Of not protecting her from dad. He killed her. Brutally. I found out when I was seventeen, because the NCR arrested him, probably executed him. He definitely deserved it. But she didn’t deserve to be disembowelled and beaten to death with a fire poker.”

Shaking, the words all but sticking to her, Nora ran over to the woman and tried to touch her, only for Kellogg’s voice to begin its musings again.

“You knew how it was, mom. You sure as sh*t weren’t soft, but you loved me, in your way. Never quite did get the religious sh*t, but it made you happy. Better than a cult, I suppose. If God were real, though, then why didn’t he protect you? Guess it doesn’t matter now. You protected me from dad, though, and it was…strange. Got you beaten. Don’t know why you bothered. I don’t know why you were with him, either. Doubt he ever wasn’t a complete asshole; the son of a bitch was either drunk or not around. Still don’t know what he did, and –”

Fumbling, hoping to stabilise on anything, Nora reached for the table, still unable to see any pieces of herself, stumbling into the radio and, scaring her, Kellogg’s voice stopped only to begin again.

“People always hope for something better, and, most of the time, they usually end up with something worse.”

Wanting to scream but unable to get any sounds out, Nora closed her eyes tightly, hoping for the returning feeling of falling to stop. When she opened them again, she heard Amari’s voice, still distant and hazy, telling her she had been loaded into another memory. Finding herself sitting on the floor though still unable to see herself, Nora leaned back against a kitchen cupboard, shaking a bit before managing to pull herself up and take a look around. A kitchen. She was standing in the kitchen of a small, rundown apartment. Outside the window, her breath hitched when she saw the Golden Gate Bridge, still formidable but more tarnished than she had remembered. Nate, you…you proposed to me in front of the Golden Gate after I won a surf competition, and… Unsure if she were crying or, even, able to, Nora swallowed hard and tried to focus again on her surroundings. A small table and chairs, a few cups of coffee, a coffee pot, and a few sandwiches on top of it. A woman was cleaning dishes in the sink, a man leaning back against the counter beside her and, then, there was a baby. Her body feeling heavy, Nora hesitantly approached the crib and looked down at the baby giggling in it, staring up at her mobile. Desperate, almost pretending the little girl was Shaun, Nora reached down to try and lightly wrap her hand around one of the baby’s, only for Kellogg’s rough voice to begin its musings again.

“What the f*ck made me think a guy like me should have a daughter? I never deserved her. Not for one second. And my kids…I really f*cked them up. But that’s the thing about having a happy life, even briefly, even a few times because the thing about happiness is you only know you had it after it’s gone. I mean, you may think to yourself you’re happy, but you don’t really believe it. You focus on the petty bullsh*t, or the next job, or whatever. It’s only looking back, by comparison with what comes after, you understand what happiness felt like.”

The voice stopped. Nora stepped away from the crib, and, slowly, walked towards the man and the woman. Kellogg. The mother of his child…she would be, wouldn’t she?

“Come on, Sarah,” He said, raking a hand through his hair. “You’ve got to give it at least a chance. I’ve finally got steady work with a good outfit. Not much like that in the NCR these days.”

“Are you sure these guys know what they’re doing?” She said. “They seem kind of…green.”

“I know,” He co*ckily replied. “But that’s where I come in.”

“I’m not saying this was a mistake, I’m just…” She set the colander she had been cleaning aside. “I’m not sure what I ought to want. Could be the co*ke talking, but –”

“Listen, it’s going to be great,” He said, pulling out a gun to show her. “And see this? This is what’s going to keep you and Mary safe. I promise. Just wait this out. In a few years, I’ll be running my own crew, as soon as I can make the connexions I need. Then, I can give you anything you want, and little Mary too. Toys, books for her, and co*ke and money for you.”

She sighed. “Guess I never worried about you before. Must be my mama instincts kicking in. Who knew I had those, right?”

“Oh, come on, you’re great with her,” Kellogg said dismissively. “And you don’t need to worry about me. Most of it’s just running for security for the Shi, a lot of standing around looking tough.”

“They picked the right person for the job, then,” She said, bending over to pull something out from under the sink and flashing him her bright green thong and tramp stamp reading ‘live for adventure.’ “You know how to have fun scaring people sh*tless. It’s –”

Bumping into her by mistake, Nora began shaking when Kellogg’s voice broke in again.

“I was the worst thing that ever happened to her. If she’d never met me, she’d have stayed in the Hub, maybe hooked up with someone who didn’t enjoy killing, didn’t enjoy being a violent sad*st. She probably would have been happier than she was with me. Almost certainly would have lived longer. I thought San Fransisco was our chance to start fresh, and I rolled into town with the world at my feet. Everybody knew I was the one who’d shot Valdez, and I could write my own ticket to any outfit in town. It worked out pretty damn well for a while. Wish it had been more fun, though…”

His voice suddenly fading, Nora slid down against the back of the cupboards, wrapping her arms around her knees. The room began to fade and spin and blur. Voices began to pass her by. One was harsh, taunting. How did you think this was going to end, Kellogg? You thought you could just f*ck with us, and we wouldn’t f*ck with you? Just so you know, they died like dogs, and you weren’t there to help them. Kellogg’s voice came back, a shout. I wasn’t lying when I said I like killing. And I’ve gotten damn good at breaking people’s necks, even with my bare f*cking hands. A woman’s voice jumped into the fray. I can’t wait for the day we get the news you died. She’s a momma’s girl, after all. Squeezing her eyes shut and praying for the voices and the sensation to stop again, Nora’s eyes suddenly opened when she felt herself slam down onto concrete. Rubbing at her head, still unsure of what was real and what was not in her body whilst unable to see any of it, she forced herself off the ground, and looked over her surroundings again. This time, Kellogg was sat at a table, smoking his damned San Fransisco Sunlight cigars, eating caviar, and drinking vodka straight. Two men approached him, and, on the other side of the room, a bartender was spraying and wiping down counters.

“Mind if we sit down?” One of the men said.

“Suit yourself,” Kellogg said with a shrug.

“So,” The other man said as he and his partner sat down across the table from Kellogg. “We hear you’ll take care of people’s problems. That right?”

Kellogg took a sip of his vodka. “If you pay me.”

“Oh, we will pay you,” The first man said. “But you’ll do this all by yourself?”

“That’s right,” Kellogg nonchalantly replied.

“We’ll pay you when the job’s done,” The second man told him. “That okay?”

“If that’s the way you want to do it,” Kellogg said, setting down his vodka and propping his elbows up on the table, clasping his hands under his chin. “So. Who do you want dead?”

The first man chuckled. “Well, it’s like this. There’s this family, lives down the creek a ways towards –”

Everything faded and spun and blurred again. Nora shut her eyes and tried to cover her ears with her hands, though it did nothing to stop the noise and the voices. One of them was Amari’s, distant and fainter than before, reassuring her and continuing to guide her through the simulation. The others were unfamiliar apart from Kellogg’s. This time, when she landed, she did not crash into the ground, but a sinking feeling in her body began to grab at her. Seeing Kellogg smoking another cigar, Nora stepped as far away from him as possible in disgust, but this time much more careful not to touch anything, even by accident. Suddenly, she noticed the skeletal, unnerving synths. Three of them. Just like the ones we had to shoot through when we finally figured out where the son of a bitch was hiding. At a desk, a woman was sat, looking at information on a tablet. When she looked up at Kellogg, her lips flattened into a thin line which quickly turned into a frown. Casting aside and stubbing out his cigar, Kellogg stepped towards her, spinning his gun in his hands with a smirk. The disdain did not leave the woman’s face and, after looking back at the tablet for a minute, the disdain on her face was equally present in her voice.

“Mister Kellogg. I’m glad you decided to meet with me,” She said coldly. “I’m Dr. Crusara Anders, head of the Institute’s Advanced Systems Division and second only to Director John Rockwell Jamison and Assistant Director Anne Kelly Leavitt.”

“So, you’re the real deal,” Kellogg said, almost amused. “I wanted to see for myself if you really existed.”

“We do, as you can see,” She said, her voice no warmer. “We’re quite real, as it happens.”

Kellogg rolled his eyes. “What do you want?”

“It has come to my attention you’ve been rather disruptive to our operations of late,” She venomously told him. “This must stop.”

“I do what people pay me to do,” Kellogg said, a flippant and arrogant edge to his voice. “If that’s a problem for you, I can see only one way out.”

Crusara’s eyes narrowed. “And what might that be, Mister Kellogg?”

“If I’m working for you, there’s no more problem,” Kellogg responded with a smirk. “From what I hear, you can afford me.”

She scoffed. “I don’t think you fully understand the situation you’re in.”

Kellogg laughed. “I think I do.”

“Very well,” Crusara said, picking up her tablet again. “B7-48, A9-56, G2-95, initiate elimination sequence.”

The synths lunged at him.

Kellogg wrapped one arm around the neck of one of the synths, knocking its gun out of its hands.

He fired his pistol with his free hand, shooting down the other two synths.

They fell to the ground, dead, circuits shorting out.

He wringed out the neck of the first synth and shot it in the head, blowing it clean off.

Crusara eyed him closely, caught between amusem*nt and approval.

Kellogg reloaded his pistol and stepped towards her.

“Impressive,” Crusara said through pursed lips. “We may have something to talk about after all.”

Everything went up in smoke again, and Nora stumbled backwards, a sudden feeling of dizziness taking over her. Amari’s voice did not come in this time as everything began to change. Feeling as though she had begun falling, Nora felt about ready to vomit when she began to hear Kellogg’s voice again through blurry sights and, then, the automated voice systems of the Vault. She could have sworn she screamed though it was silent. Everything felt awful, and she couldn’t tell if she were beginning to cry. The voices were too much. A gunshot rang out. Shaun’s cries reverberated all around her, Nate’s mumbling before quieting. A scientist saying they drugged him. Kellogg’s sneer and taunting words. At least we still have the backup. Nora fell to her knees and began curling into herself or, at least, feeling as though she were though she could not tell, no part of her able to be truly sensed. Things began spinning. Voices began again. Just keep talking if you can, I’m afraid this may be rather painful, but anaesthetic would lower your blood pressure too much and I need you to remain conscious. Suddenly, Kellogg’s voice replied. You already explained all that. It’s going to be worth it, right? The first voice returned – most definitely. These implants are much more advanced than anything you’ve had before. The Directorate are very pleased with you. The third generation synth programme is finally making progress thanks to the genetic material you recovered. Kellogg laughed darkly: You’re talking about the kid we got from the Vault? The voice returned again – yes! A perfectly unspoiled DNA sample. Things kept dissipating. In and out.

It then stopped and she was standing in a room, a man sitting nervously behind a desk, and a second man standing next to a teenage girl, his hands tightly clasped around her shoulders. All three of them were staring at Kellogg, in various states of shock, horror, and fear.

“Look, I’m a reasonable man, but the Institute wants that data,” Kellogg said, spinning his pistol in his hands. “You’ve got two days to get it for me, then we do this the hard way.”

“If you want the data, then prove you’re with the Institute,” The teenage girl sassed. “I’m not handing anything over without proof.”

“Jacqueline!” The man holding onto her shoulders gasped. “This –”

“Think you’re tough, kid?” Kellogg said, approaching her when she pulled herself out of the grasp of the man holding onto her. “You do understand the Institute doesn’t ask nicely, don’t you? Haven’t you seen our synths? What are you going to do? Out run them? Out run me?”

“I’m not stupid, asshole,” She said, childishly stomping one foot against the floor. “I want proof, and I want to meet an Institute scientist, and I want a good reason to hand over something I could make money selling. You might be all fancy rich, but most of us here are poor…including me and my dad.”

“Gerald, control your daughter,” The man behind the desk said. “This could –”

“You know what?” Kellogg suddenly snatched her by the collar of her shirt. “Let’s see if the Institute thinks you’re worth not doing this the hard way. But don’t expect this to go your way. We want that data, and you – and everyone here – are expendable and –”

Anger coursing through her, Nora almost instinctively ran at Kellogg, trying to force him to let the girl go, only for his voice to break through again, time seeming to slow.

“Jacqueline Spencer. The girl had no filter. Maybe she’s what Mary would have been…and maybe that’s why I decided to wait before going back to kill all of them. But the old man said no, had two of his ‘Division Heads’ go to retrieve the data and ended up bringing the girl back too. August 2285. Ended up being the most boring month that year. Still don’t know why he gave a damn. But after over twenty years of being Director? Maybe he’d started to go soft.”

Things began to fade in and out again, and the last thing Nora saw was the girl pushing herself away from Kellogg, wrenching out of his grip. Her hands wrapping around her hair, clasping onto her head, Nora tried to steady herself on her feet and wait for things to slow down, wait for things to stabilise again. Amari’s voice slipped back in, but she couldn’t tell if it were nearer or farther away than before. We’re running out of brain here…hmm...ah! There’s a memory appearing to be mostly intact. Connecting now… Nora swallowed hard, letting her hands out of her hair only to wrap her arms as tightly around herself as she could. Being unable to see herself or fully feel or sense anything about herself was less and less uncomfortable, but never close to normal. Things began to ease again, and, to her surprise, she found herself standing in Kellogg’s home, the same one Cait had found a way to get them into, the one he had, according to most of Diamond City, only lived in for about a year. October 2286 to August 2287. Startled, the first thing she noticed was a young boy no older than ten sat on the floor, reading comic books. Near him, Kellogg was sat on a chair near his desk, oiling his gun. A radio was playing music quietly in the background, and, on the television, a movie was playing; had a DVD disc been inserted into it? How? Did the Institute have…

“Are we going to do anything fun today, Mister Kellogg?” The boy said, turning around to look at him with wide eyes. “I was hoping to get to have lunch at the Power Noodles stand.”

Kellogg chuckled. “Not today, Shaun.”

Shaun.

Her heart sunk. Even though she couldn’t feel herself normally nor see herself, Nora knew she was beginning to sob.

Kellogg hadn’t been lying. Shaun was still alive, but he wasn’t a baby anymore.

And it had been around a decade since he and Nate had been taken.

She screamed through sobs, or, at least, could have sworn she had.

Around ten years after then, Vault-Tec’s systems had failed.

Shaun.

Her son was alive, but she must have missed nearly all of the first ten years of his life.

She collapsed to the ground and began to curl into herself, only to startle when a man entered the home without warning, and Kellogg stood up to briefly threaten him.

“I have new orders for you,” The man said, handing Kellogg a thick folder. “One of our scientists left the Institute last year, and we now know he is hiding somewhere in the Glowing Sea. Here’s his file.”

“Wow,” Kellogg said with a low whistle. “Some heads are going to roll for this. Capture and return or just elimination?”

The man smiled. “Elimination. He was working on a highly classified programme, and another one of our scientists died in a lab accident we believe he caused to create enough commotion to leave without being immediately noticed.”

“Damn. This was one of the top Bioscience boys? sh*t,” Kellogg paused, setting the file down. “So…I guess you’re taking the kid back with you.”

“Affirmative,” The man said, and, shaking, Nora forced herself to stand up and try to look at the file Kellogg had dropped on his desk. “Your only mission,” The man went on. “Is to locate and eliminate the rogue Dr. Brian Virgil.”

“Are you taking me back to the Institute?” Shaun said, standing up with the comic books in his arms. “I’d love to get a snack first.”

“I can’t grant you that,” The man said. “Now stand next to me and hold still.”

“Bye, Mister Kellogg!” Shaun said, waving excitedly. “I hope I’ll see you again sometime.”

Kellogg sighed. “Bye.”

Two bolts of blue light rang out. Then, Shaun and the man disappeared. Nora stepped back, startled, then reaching for the desk to hold onto, trying to grab onto the file.

“If anything like this had ever happened before, I’d never heard of it,” Kellogg’s voice began musing again. “Maybe it was a sign the old man was losing his grip. Finding someone in the Glowing Sea wasn’t going to be any picnic, but I never expected an Institute egghead to spend well over a year giving me so much trouble. Made me miss being settled down with the kid in the middle of Diamond City. I’d thought it was a terrible idea, but I ended up kind of liking it. May have been one of the old man’s pet projects, but it ended up better than I’d expected. I knew it was just temporary, and it would be back to normal business before long. Still, me and the kid being like a happy little family? It was nice…strangely nice.”

Nora felt her hands clenching into fists or, at least, she could have sworn she was doing so. Anger overtook her again, and she tried to grasp onto and strangle Kellogg, only for his voice to break in once more.

“My first thought when she found me with the f*cked up lady and the scrap metal synth was a realisation: the whole setup in Diamond City had been part of some elaborate plan of the old man’s, and we were bait for our old friend from the Vault. The timing couldn’t have been an accident. It’s not how the old man works…I wonder if he outsmarted me in the end. Another loose end tied up.”

Letting out a frustrated, angry sigh she was unable to hear but felt in her chest, Nora tried to kick at the desk only to be unable to and, instead, tumbled over it and in front of the TV where the movie was still playing.

“This appears to be a recent memory, from what I'm reading on my computer terminal,” Amari’s voice calmly slipped through from the silence. “So, good news, I think. But teleportation...now it all makes sense. Nobody is able to find a primary entrance to the Institute, because there is none. I’m pulling you out, Miss Norwich. Just try to stay calm.”

Light began to emanate from the television. The room began to become enveloped in it. The light feeling almost blinding, Nora shut her eyes, beginning to shake badly. She began to feel her heart beating rapidly in her chest. Sensation, true, tangible sensation clawed at her, pins and needles stabbing at her. Something jabbed into her, followed shortly after by another. Her ears began painfully ringing, and a throbbing began at the back of her skull, painfully similar to the migraines she recalled, almost out of the blue, as having during her pregnancy with Shaun. Shaun. He was the only one left. He had to be. Kellogg hadn’t been lying when he said he killed Nate, he couldn’t have been, he hadn’t been lying about what he did to Shaun, where he sent him, and was made his surrogate father after he got bored, after he eventually succeeded in killing Nate? Why? What was the point? The ringing in her ears abated and she heard herself scream, followed by a broken sob. Her eyes snapped open, and the screen of the memory lounger had been pulled up from hanging over her. Two steady arms reached out and held onto her, helping her stand up. Things began to come back into focus, the bright, painful light thankfully gone. She felt herself being slowly walked over to a couch and sat down, and Amari’s face came into focus, kneeling down in front of her and handing her a glass of water.

“I unplugged Mister Valentine first, and removed the implant while you were waking up,” She said, waving Nick over. “He was disoriented at first, and had a brief, negative reaction as the implant was removed, but he seems stable now.”

“I feel fine, Amari,” Nick assured her, turning worriedly to Nora who was sipping at the glass of water, trembling. “Nora,” He said slowly. “How are you feeling?”

“I injected you with a stimpak and a painkiller while I was pulling you out,” Amari told her when she began rapidly blinking, tears starting to fall. “Are you…ready to talk about what happened in there?”

“Am I?” Nora said, her voice shaking in anger. “I saw Kellogg’s life, the man who ruined my family, the man I –”

“I know,” Amari calmly said, setting an almost motherly hand to her shoulder. “And he was a human being, just like the rest of us, and had reasons for being what he was, however cruel. How does…how does that make you feel?”

“Are you kidding?” Nora shook her head, her hands tightening painfully around the glass of water. “I know now, for sure, I did the right thing. And I would kill the son of a bitch again if I got the chance. After everything he did? To so many f*cking people? Maybe he even deserved a worse death than we gave him.”

Nick and Amari turned to each other, taken aback.

“Nora…” Nick hesitantly began. “Do you know what you’re saying?”

“I damn well do,” Nora snapped. “How many people had he killed? There’s no way what we saw was anywhere near what he truly did. And he killed my husband, stole my son, and did God knows what else! I –”

“We’re getting off track,” Amari calmly intervened. “The important thing is we discovered the Institute’s greatest secret, teleportation. The only question is what are we to do now?”

“Find the scientist Kellogg was supposed to track down,” Nora bitterly said. “If he’s out there, there’s no way in hell he doesn’t know how to get in and out of the Institute and, more than anyone else, we need that information. I need that information.”

Amari sighed. “I know,” She paused in deliberation. “I can’t believe I’m doing this but come back in a few days. I need to talk to a few people…people I think may be able to help you in this, or, at least, want to help.”

The Commonwealth
July the 22nd, 2288
14:17

A bit too chipperly, Rowdy all but skipped towards the main doors of the former Beantown Brewery, Travis Miles, Lisanna Branson, Scarlett Wiehle, and Cait Felgate only a few feet behind her. When they reached the entrance, she grinned and took out her P50, reloading and co*cking it with a sassy flip of her hair. Scarlett eyed her strangely but nevertheless took out her 10mm, its weight still feeling odd in her hands. It’s been what, at least a year since I’ve last had to shoot anything? This is weird. This is so weird. Just as uncomfortable with a gun in his hands, Travis’ shoulders were shrugged up to nearly his ears, anxiety all over his body. Much more relaxed and having gotten a little bit of target practise on some aggressive animals that had jumped them, Lissy reached into her purse and reloaded her .44 pistol, then adjusting her large, red rimmed glasses, her long, hot pink ponytail and bangs waving in the wind. Her equally near deathly pale counterpart, Cait, was perhaps in the best mood of all apart from Rowdy, absolutely excited to get to test out her new knife and shoot down more raiders. Worst assholes in the Commonwealth. Her deep, reddish brown hair looked even messier as it became more and more windswept, and her green eyes were glinting with mischievous excitement. She half flirtatiously winked at Scarlett, who looked almost like a pre-War model with her blonde hair fluttering delicately in the wind, only for Scarlett to stare at her, confused, before jumping back a bit when Rowdy fired a shot from her gun into the air to get their attention, smirking when they all looked at her.

“As an ex-raider myself, I’m glad to be the one leading the charge to get Dimy back,” She said before gesturing to Travis with her gun. “But he’s the one who’s got a real plan, so tell us what you know, Lonely Miles.”

Travis grimaced. “Flattering nickname,” He said dryly. “Alright,” He said, taking in and letting out a deep breath. “Odds are, if they’ve got Vadim, he’s inside. I don’t…I don’t really know much about this place other than Vadim telling me at one point this is where their gang hides out. There shouldn’t be too many of them, though. I…I’ve never actually fought anyone with a gun before, so…let’s just get in there before I totally lose my nerve.”

“f*ck yeah,” Cait said, taking out a bobby pin to fiddle with the lock on the doors into the brewery, only to find them unlocked. “Sweet of them to leave the doors open for us.”

Rowdy snickered. “Well, remember: raiders ain’t exactly the brightest, buster.”

The five of them pushing open and through the doors, to their surprise, no raiders were waiting for them right away. Instead, a few were on the floor, already dead.

Cait swallowed hard, taking out her shotgun and trying not to think too hard about the fact many of them had rather obviously died from a drug overdose. Quickly following after Rowdy and Travis, Cait began running, Scarlett and Lissy a little ways behind her as the group made their way up a flight of stairs. When they reached the top of the stairs, they walked into a small office, quickly stepping onto the first of several catwalks snaking around the facility above the factory floor. Hearing the noise, several raiders ran out from a large room on the other side of the catwalk from where the group stepped onto, making their way towards the group. One of them ran out them with a tire iron, which Rowdy, quick on her feet, wrenched out of the crazed woman's grasp, hitting her over the head with it, and then shooting her a few times, knocking her over the edge of the catwalk and down to the factory floor below. Slipping past and ahead of her, Cait co*cked, aimed, and fired her shotgun on several raiders who kept running out of the large room. His hands badly shaking, Travis carefully and worriedly aimed at one of the raiders, terrified of accidentally hitting one of his companions. A few shots later, none of his companions hit by him, and Travis felt a bit more confident, eventually shooting down a raider himself. He screamed and leapt back when Scarlett got shot in the leg and began violently swearing, her gun going off when she fell over but thankfully only hitting an already broken light on the ceiling above them.

Trying to help her, Travis holstered his gun and knelt down, trying to help her stop the bleeding. Sliding past them, Lissy shot at the raider whose gunshot had hit Scarlett, and just barely ducked out of the way of a shot at her shoulder, though she slammed into the wall, letting out an angry shout of pain. Near her, Rowdy reached down and grabbed her arm with her free hand, shooting down another raider and pulling Lissy back up from the floor of the catwalk. The numbers of the raiders continuing to thin, Cait suddenly pushed past a few of them, snatched out her knife, and stabbed one of them a few times in the neck before hitting another with the butt of her shotgun. She let out a guttural shout when a bullet discharged from one of the raiders' guns and into her lower right arm. Angrily dropping her shotgun, Cait lunged at the raider who had shot her and tackled him to the ground, knocking his gun out of his hands. The two of them began to wrestle on the ground, and Rowdy, Lissy, and Travis, who had become sure Scarlett would be okay now she was sat up on the catwalk and out of the way of further gunfire, fired on the remaining raiders. When they eventually fell to the ground dead, the three of them breathed a sigh of relief, only to be startled when another gunshot rang out, though it turned out to have been fired by Cait, killing the raider she had been wrestling with. Soon enough, things went quiet. Then, familiar laughter began ringing out.

Turning around, Travis let out a cry of relief upon seeing Vadim in the corner of the room, safe albeit tied up on the floor. Running over to him, he quickly began to undo his binds, falling to his knees, and, when he finally got him free, he tightly embraced him. Just as happy to see him, Vadim embraced him too and, after a minute, cupped his face in his hands and kissed him, the two of them taking a minute to calm down, reunited.

“Thank God you’re alright!” Travis gasped, barely noticing when Rowdy and Cait left the room. “What the f*ck was wrong with those guys?”

“Very much,” Vadim said, though he began laughing. “You know,” He said, a joking twinkle in his eyes. “I didn’t know if anyone would come. I thought, perhaps, this is the end.”

“Vadim!” Travis gasped. “That’s not funny!”

“Sorry, sorry,” Vadim said, chuckling and stretching himself out as he stood up, then helping Travis back onto his feet too. “But these idiots, they just have caps and chems laying around. They did not notice, before they tied me up, when I filled my pockets.”

Travis managed to weakly laugh himself. “What are we going to do with those? Sell the chems to Solomon?”

Vadim winked. “I like how you think,” He said, then cheering when he saw Cait and Rowdy helping Scarlett into the room. “It is good to see all of you, my friends. But Scarlett! What did they do to you?”

“Shot me in the leg, obviously,” She said, rolling her eyes with a faintly amused smile. “I’ll be fine, just need to…wrap it up and take some painkiller. Although the sooner we get back to Diamond City, the better. I’d like to have Dr. Sun take at least a quick look at it.”

“Alright, alright,” Vadim said, dusting his hands off. “We can go soon. You are a good woman. All four of you women, actually. And true friends. But, really – how did you rope Travis into this?”

“They didn’t rope me into it,” Travis said, affectionately swatting at his arm. “Rowdy and Cait didn’t even have to threaten me. I wanted to help. You really think I’d leave you with the assholes who threatened me in the bar? It…I don’t think I’d ever shot a gun to…to fight people before but…I’m just glad you’re safe.”

“I am glad to be safe too,” Vadim said with a grin. “I’m taking you out, when we get back to Diamond City. Nice dinner, you know?”

Travis beamed. “I’d like that a lot.”

“I know,” Vadim teased. “So let’s get out of here, and, maybe, you’ll show me even more surprises.”

Cait, Rowdy, and Lissy snickered.

“Define surprises,” Lissy remarked.

“Oh, I think I have a few guesses,” Rowdy said, smirking. “And it involves a certain word beginning with the letter ‘s’ and ending with the letter ‘x’ with a certain vowel in between.”

“Giving a basic etymology lesson, seriously?” Cait said, jokingly flipping her off. “We all know what you mean, Rowdy, and, trust me, I very much believe you.”

Travis blushed. “Can you guys not embarrass me?”

“Sure, sure,” Cait said, waving her hand with a wink. “But only just for now.”

The Institute
July the 24th, 2288
11:39

“Our most recent intelligence suggests the Brotherhood have not returned to University Point but, with their army here and making their presence quite obvious throughout the Commonwealth, I doubt they’ll remain away from the town for long.”

Doing her best to mask her worry and irritation, Dr. Madison Li evaded the ever suspicious gaze of Dr. Justin Ayo on the other side of the long table in the Directorate’s primary conference room as he continued to give the week’s report from the SRB. Rather exhausted from the already long meeting, nearly three hours, she reckoned, now, Dr. Allison Filmore reviewed a few of the files in front of her with a frown. Still dismayed to have to put the third generation synth programme on the back burner, Dr. Alan Binet almost monotonously answered Dr. Ayo’s increasingly aggravated questions regarding the recently implemented Courser upgrades, upgrades which, in Ayo’s mind, had come far too and unreasonably late. Nervously wringing his hands in and out of each other, Dr. Clayton Holdren listened closely to the reports from his colleagues, every so often sharing a tired look with Dr. Filmore. Calmest of them all, however, was the Director’s father. Glancing over the members of the Directorate, Nathaniel Jonathan Norwich found himself, as he often did, enjoying observing everything from their mannerisms to the way they spoke. When he looked at his son on the other end of table, directly across from him, however, he forced himself to restrain his worry for his son, especially with the results of the most recent blood draws.

Dean did confirm Shaun’s condition is stable, of course, but after two years of this, two years of having to fight the cancer? I’d have to be the worst parent in the world to not be constantly worried about him, no matter how well he says he feels.

“Do you have information on how the upgrades have impacted X6-88 as he continues his postage at University Point?” Alan said, expectantly staring at Justin. “Considering how important he has become to our operation there, of course.”

“The upgrades have increased X6-88’s reaction times significantly,” Justin said, his eyes narrowing at Alan. “But, I ought to remind you, X6-88 and, frankly, all of our synths are not people. Your personification of the unit – and all synths – is wearying.”

“Not this again,” Allie said under her breath. “How many times do they have to go at it?”

“Well, I’m glad to hear the upgrades have been effective,” Alan said, unfazed by Justin’s comment. “I think that makes the developmental delays ultimately worth it.”

“It does,” Shaun said before Justin could dispute him. “Speaking of our synth programmes, have the bug fixes in the first and second generation synths been able to make them easier to put in the field long term, for now, considering the issue of the Brotherhood’s…determination to get their hands on more of our third generation synths?”

“The bug fixes seem to be working as intended,” Alan reported. “We’ve received only a few reports of malfunctions in the field this past month, which I believe to be a good sign. Certainly an improvement.”

“Yes, that is,” Shaun paused in thought, then turning to Clayton. “Dr. Holdren. What’s the current status of work out of Bioscience, particularly with the changes to the cybernetics programme since Kellogg died?”

“We’ve had no shortage of volunteers for the cybernetics programme, actually, much to my surprise,” Clayton replied. “We’re in the process of adjusting what we learnt from Kellogg to begin the new trials. Despite being unable to recover his body to remove his cybernetics, the Division’s documentation over the nearly sixty five years of his being an Institute asset has been consistently thorough, so, even though only the last ten years have been under my direction, we’ve had no issues in recreating and starting the process of fine tuning new cybernetics for the upcoming, small scale trials.”

“Certainly a relief,” Nate noted. “How many have signed up for the trials and completed their informed consent forms?”

“Fifty scientists – across all Divisions – have done both, and I expect there’ll be many more. Currently, we’re entering the information into a matrix to randomly sort them into the control versus the experimental group,” Clayton said. “All in all, though it’s too early to make any projections, it seems there’s a good chance for this programme to be successful, at least, from the position we’re in at the outset.”

“Good,” Shaun said. “Any other updates out of your Division?”

“The Synth Zoological Initiative remains slowed in order to conserve power ahead of the completion of Phase Three,” Clayton said, looking rather saddened by the situation. “As for our medicinal and food growth programmes, both of those continue to be highly productive and successful.”

“Thank you, Dr. Holdren. Now,” Shaun turned to Madison. “What’s the status of Advanced Systems, Dr. Li?”

“As requested, we’ve shifted resources off of other projects, like the child synth, to focus on Phase Three,” Madison said, still doing her best to avoid Justin’s critical gaze. “Dr. Watson has been working through pre-War information and reactor research to either find a way to locate, claim, and implement pre-War technology to speed up Phase Three or to maximise the output of our current, primary reactor for as long as possible while we continue to work on solutions to the reactor’s limited power capabilities.”

“We may have a lead on reactor research, although it’s quite far up north,” Allie told her, and Madison shortly nodded. “Dr. Moseley is accompanying a team of third generation synths to ensure the research is properly retrieved. What we in Facilities have been given to understand is the research is inside a former US Military submarine currently inhabited by members of the Church Of The Children Of Atom. Dr. Moseley and his team are going to be in and out without letting the Children learn of their presence. The last thing we need is a surface conflict.”

“Yes, I’d tend to agree,” Madison said, briefly falling silent. “Overall,” She said, looking back to Shaun. “Things are running as well as ever in Advanced Systems, and our collaborative efforts with Facilities have been by and large successful.”

“Understood,” Shaun said. “Well. That is all we needed to discuss for today. Dr. Filmore, Dr. Ayo, thank you for giving your reports swiftly at the start of the meeting. I understand this has been longer than much of ours have been recently, but things are quite dire. All of you, thank you. You’re dismissed.”

With one last glare at Madison, Dr. Justin Ayo stood up quickly, and left the room first, irritably heading back to work where, more than likely, she suspected, Dr. Secord would be getting an earful. In a much better mood, Dr. Alan Binet and Dr. Clayton Holdren left together, going through information on their tablets and jovially discussing the work in their Divisions. Looking exhausted, Dr. Allison Filmore left soon after them, letting out a tired sigh when she logged into her tablet again to see a plethora of notifications. Standing up herself, Dr. Madison Li, however, did not leave and instead waited until everyone else had gone. Surprised she felt the need to stay after, Shaun stood up to close and lock the doors into the Directorate’s primary conference room again. Nate eyed her closely, observing every movement she made. Of all the members of the Directorate, Dr. Li is perhaps the most enigmatic. More than capable, dedicated, and brilliant, but also guarded. It really does make you wonder what the Brotherhood did to her. Not letting her demeanour betray any of the uncomfortable feelings rising in her chest, Madison waited, a minute, before speaking.

“Jacqueline Spencer has been doing quite well, and I suspect her doctoral thesis will be quite a fascinating read once it’s completed,” She began, choosing her words carefully. “She had a good visit home earlier this month, as well. I do, however, have an…interesting proposal for you, regarding something I learnt while there.”

Shaun nodded. “Of course, Dr. Li. What’s on your mind?”

“Back in the Capital Wasteland, I was quite close with a woman and her husband, who was himself a member of the Brotherhood. Unsurprisingly, he has since left. Surprisingly, I came across him and his wife while at University Point with Jacqueline,” Madison said, briefly expecting either him or Nate to say something. When they did not, she continued. “Back then, I had been training their son in particular in science. He was a young boy at the time, but had quite the proclivity for it, and specifically biochemistry. It turns out, he – now, if I recall his birthday correctly, nearly nineteen – spends most of his time in Diamond City’s Science! Centre working on a variety of projects ranging from fairly benign to complex.”

“Interesting,” Nate said with a slight hum. “May I assume you’re proposing he may be a good candidate to bring into the Institute?”

“Yes, I am,” Madison confidently replied. “For now, I figure we should monitor him before making any decisions, but I still thought it was worth mentioning.”

“It very much is, thank you, Dr. Li,” Shaun said, shaking her hand. “I’ll send orders for M7-62 to monitor the situation closely. What’s his name?”

Madison smiled. “Emmett Derek Branson.”

The Commonwealth
July the 27th, 2288
12:22

“Thanks again for all your help. We didn’t expect you would be able to stop by, but we appreciate it nonetheless. You Minutemen really are getting things back together, aren’t you?”

“Hoping to make things right as rain, Mister Tanner. Just happy to extend a hand.”

Sitting down at a table in the house the young family had been able to reconstruct, Preston Garvey gave the father, mother, and three young children a gentlemanly tip of his hat. With him, Derek Branson shook hands with them and then sat down as well. Outside, with a few friends of the family and Codsworth, Sturges was humming to himself and working on the construction of a defencive system. The day was hot and sunny, but not overbearingly so; truly, a typical weather day for high summer in the Commonwealth. Inside the home, a few ceiling fans were running, and one of the children was happily skipping about, his long and slightly shaggy hair flying out behind him as he chased his older sister up and down the halls. The youngest of them was sat in his father’s lap, nervously sucking on his thumb and staring between his parents, siblings, and the Minutemen with wide eyes. The mother affectionately ruffled the small boy’s hair, and the father kept his arms securely around their little boy, him and his wife conversing lightly with the General of the Minutemen and his right hand man.

“We’ve been farming here for the last seven years but moved in and began work on the home about twelve years ago,” The man said, sharing a smile with his wife. “We’d been keeping this together just fine all this time – helps to have a lot of friends in the area – but knowing the Minutemen are back and able to alleviate some of the burden of defending ourselves is a relief, especially with the kids.”

“Alex, here, is only two,” The woman added. “So, as I’m sure you can imagine, Luke and I have been under a lot of stress, especially since the arrival of this ‘Brotherhood Of Steel.’ And here we were, thinking the only people wanting to try and control the Commonwealth by force were the Institute.”

Preston nodded. “Have the Brotherhood been giving you any trouble?”

“No, thankfully not,” Luke said, though he soon after shook his head. “But we’ve seen ‘em around a lot more lately. Probably because that old military installation is just about across the street from us, which is why it’s a concern. We’ve heard a lot of talk, including from nearby families, of the Brotherhood demanding tribute or some crap like that. Swear they think they own whatever land they walk onto, not giving a f –”

“Luciano!” The woman sent him a pointed look. “Not in front of the kids!”

“Sorry, Polly, it’s just,” He let out a long, irritated sigh. “They don’t care about the fact we have no reason to trust they have the ‘best interests of the Commonwealth’ in mind when they waltz in here with their gargantuan zeppelin and expect us all to just trust ‘em because they say so. I mean, they clearly think the only people who are worth their time are the ones who think and look like them. It’s frustrating and makes me sick.”

“It’s not the right way to go about things, to put it lightly,” Derek said, adjusting his glasses. “While it might not put you at ease, more likely than not, the Brotherhood members you’ve seen patrolling nearby and going in and out of the old…training facility for the National Guard, wasn’t it? More likely than not, the Brotherhood members going in and out of there are Scribes looking for information on pre-War technology. Scribes don’t typically get involved with settlements, towns, or cities, so, while unsettling, they’re unlikely to bother you.”

“Good to know,” Polly said, glancing at her two older kids, still chasing each other through the halls of their home. “We’d been getting the sense we wouldn’t have much to worry about unless some of their more…overtly armed members came knocking. That’s what we heard from the Finches, anyways. Heard you helped bring their son home to them, too. Good on you. Can’t imagine doing so was easy.”

“At the end of the day, it’s part of our job,” Preston replied. “We’re glad to be back on our feet and able to serve the people of the Commonwealth again. Slowly, we’re hoping to be able to unite the Commonwealth one day.”

“A seriously admirable goal,” Luke said with a chuckle. “If I were a little younger and didn’t have a young family to defend, I’d join you myself. Regardless, what you’re doing is good, and seeing people join up and start to stand with and help defend other people’s homes is great. And especially, like I said, with the Brotherhood now trying to stake a claim here.”

“They’re, if we’re being completely honest, frightening,” Polly added. “It’s not only the sheer size of their army or what we’ve seen of their capabilities so far. It’s the way they approach the people of the Commonwealth with entitlement, and the lack of trust. If they want us to believe they have our best interests in mind, then they need to be willing to be honest with us about why they’re here rather than keeping it all insular and expecting us to all believe them at their word.”

“No clue what things were like back where they’re from, but people here need more than just some empty words to believe them,” Luke said, his voice darkening. “The Commonwealth’s had to contend with the Institute since the start, and after the Broken Mask down in Diamond City a couple of decades ago? We’d all have to be dumb as rocks to take anyone with their kind of resources at their word.”

“The people of the Capital Wasteland had been defended by the Brotherhood since the War, and specifically defended by the Brotherhood from the remains of the United States Federal Government, which had begun to call themselves ‘the Enclave,’” Derek explained. “They’d built up two centuries of rapport with the people of the Capital Wasteland, and successfully put an end to the Enclave about a decade ago. From what I can tell, they seem to have mistakenly assumed the people of the Commonwealth would feel the same way about them, not realising the trust of the people in the Capital Wasteland had been hard earnt.”

“Arrogance, in short, then,” Luke said, rubbing his two year old son’s back when the little boy rolled over and started to fall asleep in his lap. “It’s a shame. If they were willing to have an honest conversation with the people of the Commonwealth and build up trust, then maybe we would be much more willing and eager to help them, if they really are here for our benefit.”

“Far as I can tell, they’re just as secretive as the Institute,” Polly snorted. “Only difference is they hoard technology out in the open and the Institute have the ‘manners’ to do so while by and large keeping to themselves. Their synths may be a menace, but at least the Institute aren’t running around declaring they’re the ones who are going to save the Commonwealth, the ones who are going to keep us safe from God only knows what’s out there. Luke, his brother, and both of our parents had to fight off some gunners a year or two ago. It was one of the bloodiest fights I’ve ever seen, and we’re lucky none of them died. Gunners haven’t come back, but it’s only a matter of time. That’s always the way with people like them. No better than raiders, I’ll say.”

“In some ways, I’d say the gunners are worse than raiders,” Preston said, sombrely hanging his head for a minute. “We gave them a hell of a fight in Quincy, but we never really stood a chance. There were just too many of them, and too few of us. They were ruthless, indiscriminate with their violence but also methodical. Not crazed, not disorganised like raiders. Every time we come across them, even now, they’re just as they were then. It’s disturbing, and, hopefully, I’ll live to see the day where we can drive them out of the Commonwealth for good.”

“Think we can all agree on that,” Polly said, briefly frowning. “I’ll never understand how people can be so selfish. We all have moments of selfishness and weakness, of course, but the kind raiders and gunners possess? And now, from what we’ve seen and heard, the Brotherhood? Or the Institute? No, selfishness on a scale as pathological as theirs is endemic, and it’s not just an occasional moment. It’s an innate quality of them, and it’s nothing short of awful. There’s no point to it, there really isn’t.”

“There really isn’t,” Preston agreed with a sigh. “But, I suppose, some people are just wired that way, wrong as it may be.”

Diamond City
August the 1st, 2288
11:11

“f*ck…” Piper groaned, slamming the door to her office shut behind herself in frustration. “Missed the asshole again. I swear, at this point, McDonough is doing everything in his power to throw me off and, unfortunately, he’s succeeding.”

Checking to make sure the door was locked behind them but just as annoyed at the situation, Robert Joseph MacCready shook himself and his hat out from the downpour of rain outside and nodded, unsurprised when Piper began swearing under her breath again. Taking off and hanging up her jacket, Piper irritably kicked off her shoes, hanged her hat up next to her jacket, and stepped over to the sink, wringing some of the water out of her hair. It’s been a great day, such a great damn day. We miss McDonough’s mysterious courier by ten minutes and get soaked in the rain for pretty much nothing. At least Nat likes the rain, someone might as well enjoy this sh*t. When she was satisfied her hair was dry enough to not annoy her any more, Piper stormed over to the fridge and pulled out two Nuka Colas, one of which she tossed at MacCready, who swiftly caught it with one hand. Slamming the fridge door shut almost as hard as she had slammed the door into her office, Piper let out a short, aggravated yelp and, then, feeling a bit better, waved MacCready over to the small kitchen table, sitting down on one of the four chairs, him across from her. For a few minutes, the two of them simply sipped on their Nuka Colas and listened to the sound of the rain pouring down outside but, quickly, the two of them found themselves uneasy sitting in silence.

“You know the story behind the jacket over there next to yours?” MacCready said, smirking a bit when Piper shook her head. “She never told you?”

“I never asked,” Piper admitted with a shrug. “Lissy’s got multiple leather jackets, I just figured she thought the snake on it looked good.”

“She definitely thinks that,” MacCready replied. “I got an earful about how she ended up with the jacket shortly after she and I became friends. I’d been in Rivet City about a few weeks, was fifteen at the time, and my…the woman I’d go onto marry, Duncan’s mother, Lucy, was sixteen. Anyways, the second Hadley found out her daughter had two new friends, she insisted on us coming over for dinner. We get there, and the first thing we hear is Ada teasing Lissy about getting into fights.”

Piper laughed. “Still happens, you know,” She told him. “Guessing it was with some kid whose parents were in the Brotherhood.”

“That’s how she ended up with the jacket,” MacCready said, laughing himself. “Way I heard it was, when she was around fourteen, she got in a fist fight with a boy in the Brotherhood who was two years younger but constantly grating on her nerves. The two of them fought it out a lot, actually. Anyways, the fight got broken up and some guy who was a gang leader had witnessed the fight and gave Lissy his jacket, telling her he thought she should have been allowed to finish the fight. Only stipulation was, if anyone asked about it or she won a fight, she had to yell ‘Tunnel Snakes rule!’ Funniest thing ever, I swear.”

Piper rolled her eyes. “And you were surprised the Atom Cats gave her one of their jackets after helping them cause mayhem with fireworks and firecrackers shortly after she and her family arrived in Diamond City. But, hey,” She said, a mischievous look in her eyes. “I got to ask – what have you been up to? I know you’ve been getting to spend a lot more time with your son. How’s he doing?”

“Duncan’s doing pretty well,” MacCready said, letting out a sigh of relief. “He got a cold the other week, but got over it pretty quickly. I think his immune system is finally bouncing back, now he’s no longer sick. He’s been so happy, and I’ve never been prouder of him. The kid’s gone through a heck of a lot, and he’s still standing. He’s been playing with some of the other kids around Goodneighbour now, too, and he hasn’t stopped trying to read everything he can get his hands on. Like I’ve said before, a lot of kids would have just…given up, but he fought it out, and, honestly, I think his love of reading, even if he can’t always understand what he’s reading, has helped a lot.”

Piper smiled. “You’re such a softie,” She teased, reaching across the table and knocking his damp hat off his head. “Don’t look at me like that,” She said when he scowled at her and leaned over to pick his hat up off the ground. “You treat me like I’m just about your sister these days, so I’m going to treat you like you’re my brother, annoying traits and all.”

“Bold of you to assume I won’t find a way to annoy you back,” He half jokingly replied. “I’ve got some tricks up my sleeve, Piper.”

“Bet you do,” She replied with a grin. “Now, come on. Tell me how you’re doing and what’s been going on with you and your ‘friend.’”

MacCready tinged a bit pink. “I’m…I’m doing fine. As for Annette…things have been good. I took her out for her birthday. We danced, had drinks, dinner, a few cigarettes,” He stumbled, a bit embarrassed. “She loved the bracelet I got her, never takes it off. And Duncan had a really sweet present for her, too. Took me by surprise, honestly, but…”

“But…?” Piper pressed. “You don’t get to say that and then leave me with nothing!”

“He had a small, carved wooden toy soldier…his mother made it, for me, years ago,” MacCready said, rubbing at his neck. “Duncan said it’s what protected him and made sure he got through being sick and he said he wanted Annette to have it to protect her too. She keeps it in the window of her apartment in Goodneighbour. Honestly…it’s really sweet.”

“No kidding,” Piper said, taking a few sips of her Nuka Cola. “And adorable.”

“It…it is,” MacCready said, falling silent. “So,” He began, a bit nervously. “I know we didn’t catch the man today, but, out of curiosity, how’d you first realise McDonough’s a synth and working for the Institute? Since we’re trying to intercept the courier and get proof of it and all.”

“I saw, a few years ago, him with technology, something which looked a lot like what people before the War – from what I know, at least – called cell phones,” Piper set down her Nuka Cola and stood up, walking over to and pulling some things out of a drawer. “I managed to get some photographs of the device, and what seemed to be a serial number. Take a look.”

MacCready raised an eyebrow, picking up a few of the photographs on the top of the pile.

“This is crazy,” He said, going through a few of the others. “How’d you figure out it’s Institute technology?”

“It was just an educated guess, for a while,” Piper admitted. “But, after Nora, Nick, and Cait came back with Kellogg’s body, some of the things on him – including a knife Scara and Duff had retrieved from an Institute weapon a little while back – had the same type of serial number. The things inside Kellogg’s body, well, other than the things in his head Nick and Nora needed preserved, couldn’t have been from anywhere but the Institute. And after the autopsy? After Scara and Duff were both able to confirm he must have been born between the 2170s and the 2180s? It told us all we needed to know.”

“Explains how he looked so young despite, from what you and Cait told me, being well over fifty,” MacCready remarked, setting down the photographs. “What isn’t the Institute capable of, at this point?”

“I have no idea,” Piper said, sitting down across from him again. “Wish I knew what Nick and Nora had to talk about with Dr. Amari. All I know is they were trying to see if they could get anything of value out of the sh*t stuffed in Kellogg’s brain by the Institute, but I haven’t heard from them since, other than they’re finally coming back to Diamond City tonight and want me to come with them for something. I guess Amari told them something important, but they have to wait to tell me in person.”

MacCready looked up at her, surprised. “Really? No guesses?”

“Other than maybe something or someone who could help us find out where the Institute actually is?” Piper paused, lost in thought for a minute. “No, other than that, I have no idea but, either way, I’m dying to know what happened. If Nick doesn’t want to say anything just over the radio waves to his office, then it’s got to be either really big or really bad, and I just have to know what it is.”

Chapter 26: Something Below

Chapter Text

Old North Church
August the 2nd, 2288
15:19

When they stepped into the underground, mausoleum tunnels, the first thing they noticed was the water pooled all over the floor.

The second were the painted symbols of lanterns seen every so often the deeper they went into the tunnels.

Unsettled, Piper tightened her jacket around herself and began fidgeting with her hat on her head. The cold, damp, and poorly lit tunnels were bad enough on their own, but the nervous excitement of knowing they were hoping to find and contact the rumoured ‘Railroad’ was clawing at her. Much less bothered, Nick kept a flashlight on, checking every corner they turned to ensure they were still alone. Seeing Nora ahead of them, her hands clenched as she all but ran, however, caused worry to come over him again. Having to go through the memories of someone as wicked, evil, and vile as Kellogg would do a number on anyone, but, with how angry she’s been… Struggling not to judge her too harshly for how she had been acting since going through what remained of Kellogg’s mind, Nick focused himself on what they were doing. In some ways, things were almost funny or, at least, would have been if the circ*mstances had been a little better. Should have known you, of all people, would be working with the Railroad, Amari. Suppose it’s not a bad thing for you to be able to let them know we’re going to be coming to talk to them. Of all the people in the Commonwealth, they probably know the most about the Institute outside of the Institute itself. Hopefully they know something about this Dr. Virgil. Slowing their pace when they turned another corner and reached the end of a long corridor, Piper and Nick reconvened with Nora, pausing just in front of a large set of rings on the wall embossed with an emblem and a few simple words.

The Freedom Trail, Boston.

Her hands tense, Nora stepped over to the marker and began to turn the dial in the pattern Amari had told them would work. R. A. I. L. R. O. A. D. Railroad. Not a great cipher key if your organisation bears the same name. Then again, how many cases were there where it turned out chapters of the Mob were using obvious cipher keys? Too damn many to count, at least, the ones we were taught about in law school. Swearing under her breath when the dial briefly got stuck, Nora closed her eyes briefly to try and calm herself. Turn. Letter. Push. Once, twice, thrice. Once, twice, thrice. Again, once and twice a last time. Pushing the dial in with as much of her body strength as possible, Nora took a step back, and then another when the sound of stone, metal, and brick scraping against itself began reverberating in the mausoleum tunnels. Some dust fell from the ceiling and the walls pushed to the side, creating a space just large enough to walk through. Her hands on her holstered gun just in case, Nora slowly stepped through the entrance, followed by Piper, and, finally, Nick. The walls began creaking back shut behind them, and they briefly turned around, caught off guard. Then, the sound of lights flickering began and the dark room lit up quickly and brightly. Piper swore, covering her eyes with her hands, for a minute. Nick grimaced and took a small step back. Nora let go of her gun and put her hands up in front of her face, trying to give her eyes more time to adjust to the light. It was when they all regained their composure, however, they all took another step back, realising not one but two people were waiting for them and had weapons drawn and pointed at them.

“Now!” A woman said, stepping forward, her gun still pointed at them. “Don’t move any closer. You three have gone through a lot of effort to arrange this meeting, but, before we go any further, answer my questions. Who the hell are you?”

“Nora Jacqueline Norwich,” Nora irritably said, crossing her arms. “Dr. Amari sent me.”

“Nick Valentine,” Nick said with a polite tip of his hat. “Been a long time friend of Amari’s and, as you can see, am a synth myself.”

“Piper Wright,” Piper said with an awkward wave, her eyes widening in surprise when another woman stepped into the room. “Hadley?”

Her mother in law took a step back, scrambling to stub out a cigarette and hoping Piper didn’t notice.

“Piper?” She said, nervously fidgeting with her glasses and stepping towards the others. “Why am I not surprised you’re here?”

A woman holding a large, heavy gun turned to her with a scowl. “Did you,” She hissed. “Tell her anything?”

Hadley shook her head. “Do you really think, if I knew my own daughter in law would be here, I wouldn’t tell you?”

“She has a point,” The first woman said, and the woman with the heavy gun scowled at Hadley but seemed to, begrudgingly, drop the subject. “Seeing as one of you is a synth, one of you is here because of Amari, and one of you is…well," Her eyes narrowly watched them. "I’m Desdemona. The leader of the Railroad. As for you, I still have –”

“Des! Glory! Lay! Seriously? You’re having a party?” A man said, sauntering into the room and slickly pulling his sunglasses off his face with a dramatic flourish. “Where was my invitation?”

Desdemona frowned. “Deacon, where have you been?”

He shrugged. “Does it matter?”

“It does,” She said pointedly. “But we can deal with that later. I need intel.”

“I know,” He said with a co*cky grin, stepping towards Nora. “You know, the Railroad owes you a crate – hell, a truckload – of Nuka Cola for what you did to Kellogg. He was our public enemy number one, even before we'd learnt his f*cking name.”

Nora eyed him suspiciously. “How do you knowI was the one to kill him?”

“A couple of little birdies told me,” He replied. “Amari being one of them. Can’t give up my other sources, you know how it goes.”

“Wait a minute,” The woman with the heavy gun said, narrowly watching the man called Deacon. “Is this the woman you’ve been tracking? The one from the Vault? Wasn’t she an ex-lawyer or something?”

“I…” Nora looked between her, Deacon, and Desdemona. “How long have you been keeping tabs on me?”

“Long enough,” Desdemona said, lowering her gun. “Long enough to know, for certain, you’re not with the Institute. So, tell me – why did you want to meet with us?”

“For a start, you’re some of the only people in the Commonwealth who were likely to know much about the Institute,” Nora said, waiting for the woman with the heavy gun to, finally, lower her weapon all the way. “For another, I need information on someone who’ll be able to get me into the Institute in the first place.”

Desdemona raised an eyebrow. “You want into the Institute? Why?”

“Because that Kellogg son of a bitch gave my son to them, when he was a baby,” Nora said, her voice wavering. “And I am going to get him back. He…he’s probably around ten, now.”

“sh*t,” The woman with the heavy gun said, a hint of sympathy slipping into her voice. “I’m so sorry,” She told her. “The Institute takes people, sure, but a kid? That’s low, even for them.”

“Hence why Amari sent us to find you,” Nick said, shaking his head. “The only group of people in the Commonwealth with the moxy to go toe to toe with the Institute.”

“I need to know everything I can about them,” Nora hesitated, taking a step back when she saw how intently all of them but Hadley were staring at her. “We can tell you what we know. But I…the first thing I need to know is about an Institute scientist. An Institute scientist who left.”

“A scientist left the Institute?” Deacon said, turning to the woman with the heavy gun and Desdemona. “We need to know about this, and she killed Kellogg.”

Desdemona sighed. “Glory,” She said, turning to the woman with the heavy gun. “Tell the others we’re bringing some people inside headquarters.”

Glory narrowed her eyes, looking over Nora, Nick, and Piper but, after a moment, relented.

“Follow me, now,” Desdemona said, holstering her gun and crossing her arms. “You’re going to answer our questions, and then we’ll answer yours. So – this Institute scientist. Who are they and why did they leave?”

“We’re not sure, not about why he left,” Nick said, lingering, briefly, while Nora and Piper went ahead. “All we know for sure is his name and where he went.”

“Not much to go on,” Desdemona noted. “But tell us what you have.”

“He was…a biologist for them? Something along those lines,” Nora said, shivering a bit as a they began walking through a drafty, tight corridor. “His name is Dr. Brian Virgil, and he went somewhere into the Glowing Sea to hide from the Institute.”

“Damn good place to hide,” Deacon said, toying with his sunglasses. “I don’t even think I’d be willing to risk going there. Although, if anyone could find a way to survive there, it’d definitely be someone from the Institute.”

“True,” Desdemona warily agreed, pulling out a key as they approached a door. “But, even if you find him, how could he help you get into the Institute? I can’t imagine he took anything with him to get him back in if he left and, then, took such drastic action to make them think twice about looking for him.”

“If he knew how to get out, he probably knows how to get back in,” Piper said, pausing and almost falling down the stairs when Desdemona opened the door. “This is amazing,” She breathed, taking in the headquarters in awe nearly the moment they stepped inside. “You guys really know what you’re doing.”

“Our predecessors spent decades running delicate operations,” Desdemona told her, watching Nora closely and locking the door into the crypt. “We’ve had to learn to do the same and, for our purposes, a large, barely known former crypt works perfectly. Do not let anyone follow you here. Ever,” She pointedly added, waving for the three of them to sit down at a small table towards the back of the crypt. “Now, tell me. How does one get into the Institute?”

“This is especially important,” Glory warned, casting a dark look at Hadley when she sat down next to her daughter in law. “And, Piper, if you publish a damn word –”

“I’m trying to find out about the Institute and what they’re doing,” Piper irritably cut in. “How can you think I’d even slightly risk letting the Institute know anything about the only people in the Commonwealth who aren’t afraid of them?”

“She wouldn’t do anything to put our work on the line,” Hadley defiantly said, pushing up her glasses and setting a hand to her daughter in law’s shoulder. “And neither would my kids, and neither would Derek.”

“She’s right,” Nick agreed, glancing to Hadley in concern when he saw her slightly uneven, shallow breathing. “As for how one gets into the Institute, what we found out is going to sound ridiculous.”

“It will,” Nora said, clasping her hands together to stop herself from trembling. “I’m not entirely sure I…” She fell silent. “There are probably other ways in, but the primary way, or, at least, the one we know about is…” She hesitated, feeling embarrassed. “The Institute has some kind of teleporter, and it’s how they get people – synths – to and from wherever it is they are. It…I think it dematerialises you one place and rematerialises you in another.”

“What?” Desdemona spun on her heel to turn towards Glory, who suddenly looked sick. “Glory, is –”

“I think I know what you’re talking about,” She said, quiet but body shaking anger entering her voice. “It’s called a ‘Molecular Relay.’”

“How do you…” Nora frowned. “How do you know that?”

“Because I am a synth,” Glory snapped, making no attempt to quell the anger bubbling in her chest. “And they used me as a Courser, a synth to track down and bring back other synths so they could continue to do whatever the f*ck it is they do to them. I’ve been trying for months to figure out what the hell the ‘Molecular Relay’ is and Tom –” She cut herself off suddenly. “Are you making this up?” She hissed. “Because if not, where the f*ck did you learn about this?”

“Amari was able to get us inside Kellogg’s memories,” Nick calmly put in before Nora, bristling, could snap back or Hadley, furious, could defend the former lawyer. “If you don’t believe us, you can ask her. But it’s true.”

“We will check with Amari, to make sure what you’re saying is accurate,” Desdemona said, reaching for and taking Glory’s hand while the woman tried to calm herself. “But, as unbelievable as it sounds, I have a hard time believing you would go through the trouble to find us to help you just to throw us off track. Especially since you yourself, Nick, are a synth.”

“It certainly explained a lot as to why they’re so careful not to let us synths remember how to get in and out of the Institute,” He said. “Forgive my curiosity,” He looked to Glory. “What made you able to remember specific things about the Institute? Or even what you did for them? I don’t have any memories before ending up out here…well, memories I formed as a synth, anyways.”

“Amari has helped me…get around some of their tricks,” Glory coldly replied. “And what do you mean ‘memories formed as a synth?’”

“I’m a discarded prototype, as you can see,” Nick said, shaking his head. “They put the memories of a pre-War police detective in my head, and then, at some point, tossed me into the dumpster pile. I don’t remember anything about the Institute or what it was like inside. All I remember is waking up one day in a garbage heap, a body in tatters and a head full of memories belonging to a man who’d been dead for over a century. Suffice to say, it was a confusing couple of weeks.”

“I can only imagine,” Desdemona solemnly said. “Well. Thank you for your candour. I suppose we now owe you some answers of our own.”

“What do you know about the Institute?” Nora said, uncomfortably looking away when she noticed how closely Glory was watching her. “Or where they are? Are there any other Institute scientists who’ve also left?”

“As for their location, no, we don’t know where they are,” Desdemona said, guarded. “We know of a few Institute scientists, none of whom have defected. We’ll do what we can to find out more about this Dr. Brian Virgil, but, more than likely, you’ll have to go and find him in the Glowing Sea yourself. Broadly speaking, though, we know the Institute is a highly advanced society which frequently takes people into their fold but doesn’t let them leave. They have access to technology decades ahead of anything we have access to here – access to technology far more advanced, clearly, than anything before the War, either.”

“The only people who are probably on their level technologically are the Brotherhood Of Steel,” Deacon said grimly. “But I really wouldn’t trust them. They’ve made it pretty clear they want to control the Commonwealth just as much as the Institute. Maybe more.”

“If you’re able to find Virgil and get information from him on how to get into the Institute, we will help you,” Desdemona promised, sighing when Nora hesitantly nodded. “Getting your son back is important. But we need you to help us too, if we get you in. Do we have a deal?”

Nora swallowed hard. “We do,” She said, standing and shaking her hand. “If you find anything out about Virgil or his location in the…in the Glowing Sea, let me know.”

“Of course,” Hadley said, sympathetically setting her hands on the young woman’s shoulders. “If the others decide to not help you, I promise you I will, and I’m sorry I didn’t bring you to us right away…no one would have allowed it,” She whispered, her voice barely audible even close to Nora’s ears. “But, at the end of the day, reuniting you with your family is what matters most…family is more important than freeing synths, it just is.”

“Thank you,” Nora whispered in reply, hoping it was only she who heard her words, blinking back tears. “I’ll get Shaun back. I have to. I’m his mother.”

"You will," Hadley quietly promised. "I'll ensure it."

The Prydwen
August the 6th, 2288
12:10

“The good news is, with the new fusion plant we recovered in Annapolis, the Prydwen is running even smoother than we could have ever hoped. The bad news is, for as long as we’re going to have to provide background power to Liberty Prime once we get underway with its reconstruction, we’re going to have to bump up the reactor efficiency to levels over seventy five percent, which will require more reactor coolant than we currently have access to.”

“Reactor coolant isn’t the only resource we’re lagging on either. We can’t ignore the issue any longer. Commonwealth settlements will need to provide aid to the Brotherhood, whether in the realm of being military contractors or providing some requisitions of crops, water, and, potentially, some construction materials.”

“Understood. Thank you, Proctor Ingram, Proctor Teagan. We now know what today’s meeting will be centred around.”

Standing up and pacing in the Prydwen’s command deck, Elder Arthur Jonathan Maxson, momentarily, cast his gaze towards the Commonwealth down below. It was a much more lively place than any in his ranks had expected, almost as lively as the Capital Wasteland, even rivalling it in some parts. Diamond City is remarkably similar yet also dissimilar to Rivet City. As for Goodneighbour, a city with a great deal of non feral ghouls is certainly unsettling for some but I won’t be changing my orders. A mistake of Lyons’ was absolutely stating all ghouls are to be shot on sight. Non ferals are perfectly normal, worth pitying. Turning to face the doors into the command deck, Maxson waved his Lancer Captain in to join the Proctors at the table before taking his seat again himself. Absent was Cade, something which left him uneasy, well aware Cade had been treating far more than just their Brothers and Sisters as they came and went from combat duties, research and security patrols, or special projects. High blood pressure, migraines, shortness of breath. She’s been so strained, and whatever can be done must be. We need her health as much as they do. The twins. It’s almost unbelievable. All I hope is I’ll be able to step up to the task of being their father and the Brotherhood’s East Coast Supreme Commander. Uneasily, he tried to focus, his Lancer Captain giving his initial update on the status of personnel and work on the Prydwen. Things were well, and working as they were meant to be. Some setbacks, then, were of little issue and only needed a decisive solution.

“Liberty Prime’s parts are now completely accounted for and unloaded off the Prydwen, Kells,” Ingram said, her voice breaking past Maxson’s jumbled thoughts. “We’ve moved them into one of old storage buildings a couple hundred yards away from where we’re constructing the gantry. All the pieces of him are accounted for, but we’ve still got a lot of work ahead of us.”

“How bad a state is Prime in?” Teagan asked, then regretting it when he saw the look on her face. “The CPU still the issue, or is it something else?”

“Prime’s CPU and memory core are still the worst issues facing us when we've tried to power them, at least, for now,” Ingram shook her head. “Same as they’ve been for nearly a decade at this point. The important thing is we got Prime and all of his parts here without damaging them further, and, once we figure out what the hell to do about solving its current issues, we’ll be closer and closer to having something to tip the balance when we go toe to toe with the Institute.”

“Yes, it will be a powerful equaliser,” Quinlan said, taking down a few notes. “The key to everything is getting Liberty Prime operational. I will check again this evening to see if any new technical documents have been recovered by our teams which could aid in the reconstruction of Liberty Prime. Our recon teams have been bringing in all sorts of artefacts and documents, and I have a great deal to sort through. Aside from sorting and passing on anything relevant to Prime, it’ll take me years to study all of what we’ve retrieved thus far.”

“Better we have recovered more than risk the Institute getting their hands on them,” Kells said, disgruntled at the notion. “I suspect they have far more than we could ever know, however. If they’re capable of creating their ‘synths,’ then there’s very little I would put past their capacities.”

“Have we made any progress on determining the Institute’s location?” Maxson said, probing his forehead. “I keep hearing the same rumours of it being on the premises of the former CIT, something Zimmer, of course, claimed, but it seems impossible.”

“It is impossible,” Quinlan said, his lips flattening into a thin line. “So far as we know, of course, but it is most likely an intentional misdirection. From my understanding, however, our best chance at learning more about the Institute and their location is from the town of University Point, as the Institute has a rather disturbing and obvious presence there.”

“University Point may actually be the key to solving a few of our issues, in the short term,” Teagan remarked. “Consider – if we start with them providing us aid in the form of physical resources in exchange for the protection we’re bringing the entire Commonwealth, we’ll be able to prove them we are what they need, and they don’t have to bow down to the Institute.”

“The town at University Point is also the last confirmed location of Dr. Li on the surface, isn’t it?” Maxson smiled faintly when Quinlan nodded. “Have we gotten any reports of her returning to the location of late?”

“As we’ve pulled in significantly to ensure things are under control at the airport and our pre-established bases, such as the Cambridge Police Station, no, we have not had any updates on the town since the initial report from Scribe Haylen and Knight Rhys,” Quinlan said, taking down another few lines of notes. “I suspect the Institute would be unlikely to put her anywhere near the surface, but especially there since the arrival of the Prydwen. We will, more than likely, have to wait to catch them off guard.”

“Damn,” Teagan said. “Still, we should keep a close eye on the location. Keep in mind, the Institute are arrogant to the nth degree.”

“True, but, without proof, I don’t believe the claim of the Institute keeping their ‘promise’ to let the girl they kidnapped visit her father,” Ingram said, her nose wrinkling in disgust. “With what we know about them? They would absolutely dangle the possibility of it in front of the girl’s father as a way to keep him and the town in line. A threat, and not a subtle one either.”

“It’s reprobate,” Maxson said, a dangerous edge slipping into his voice. “The fact the Institute takes people would be horrible enough on its own, but the fact they were more than willing to take a young teenager over some trivial research she had uncovered is damning. Unfortunately, I can understand why they would use Dr. Li to bring her in. Of all the things the Institute have forced on her, the ones we know about, at least, I find this to be the most disturbing.”

“It is, especially because Dr. Li is not an intimidating presence, not physically, at least,” Ingram sighed. “I would not want to get into an intellectual stand off against her, but she’s petite and, as ‘charming’ as she can act sometimes, prim. No doubt the Institute recognised and exploited her for those reasons.”

“Another reason to bring her back into the Brotherhood,” Maxson replied, though irritation still cut through his voice. “What could have ever possessed her to think even seeking them out would be a good idea?”

“She has a temper,” Ingram snorted. “Not to say I don’t, but she can make me look like a restrained monk when she gets angry. I still can’t believe she shouted at Elder Lyons on several occasions.”

“Undeniably out of line,” Kells frowned. “Her interrogation will have to be done quite delicately once we are able to bring her back where she belongs.”

“It will,” Maxson paused in thought. “We ought to keep an eye out for the girl the Institute used her to kidnap. Rescuing her should be a priority, too. No child should go through something so heinous.”

“No, they shouldn’t,” Teagan grimly agreed. “My and Desiree’s children are far from being so young – both of them are well into their twenties, as you know, and serving in the Mojave – but I would have been appalled if someone had even attempted what the Institute has done to this girl to them.”

“It’s settled, then,” Quinlan said. “We will attempt to rescue this girl as a secondary objective to our efforts to find and bring Dr. Li back where she belongs. Loathe as I am to admit it, I suspect she is the only one who could fix the rest of Prime’s issues.”

“Hate to agree, but you’re right,” Ingram sighed. “Some of Prime’s engineering is above my pay grade, and I’ve spent years upon years putting him back together and restoring as much of him as possible. There are probably people in the Commonwealth who could do it, but it would be easiest to have the woman who was the lead of the team originally completing Prime be the one to revive him.”

“Indeed,” Kells said with a short nod. “Madison Li may be a sour taste, but she’s a brilliant scientist in her own right, something she more than proved in resolving Prime’s power issues the first time around.”

“Careful,” Ingram said, her voice lighter with a tinge of amusem*nt to it. “Let enough of the younger Scribes and Knights hear you say that, and they’ll be annoyed about a woman having the kind of power Li did during the war with the Enclave. Trust me, I know how some of the younger recruits feel about women who surpass them.”

Teagan chuckled. “I still can’t believe most of us, myself included, spent the first three years we knew you thinking you were a man.”

“The Paladin I joined under wasn’t letting women serve,” Ingram said, a mischievous glint in her eyes. “I proved him wrong. He didn’t make me a man as he said he would do to all of us under his charge. He made me a woman who’s willing to fight longer, harder, and faster if the occasion calls for it.”

“Something which has quite inspired me,” Maxson said with an approving nod. “And a spirit I hope Karissa and I will be able to instil in our children.”

Ingram faintly smirked. “I expect you will. As for me, I still take pride in what I did, and the work I’ve done over the last twenty five years to get where I am.”

“IG-444K, good, your punctuality is quite appreciated,” Elder Owyn Lyons had smiled when the young Knight properly acknowledged him and stood at attention across from him, where he sat, in their power armour. “Your fearless service and rescuing of several of your Brothers after your squadron’s Paladin fell in battle is not something I will forget. As I’ve spoken personally with the other members of your former squadron, I appreciate you not making me wait. Your name is Allen Ingram, is it not?”

“A minor correction, if I may, Elder Lyons,” The Knight had said, removing the helmet of their power armour. “The name the Paladin gave you was incorrect.”

Lyons had quirked an eyebrow. “Then what is your name, Knight Ingram?”

“Elisabeth,” She had said, tucking her helmet under one arm and letting her hair down from its tight bun. “It’s Elisabeth Mischelle Ingram.”

“Noted, Knight Ingram,” Lyons had smiled. “Thank you for your service thus far, Sister.”

Ingram had faintly smiled back. “It’s an honour, Elder Lyons.”

“Things have changed significantly since then, of course, and largely thanks to Elder Lyons,” Maxson recalled. “But I quite strongly believe in its continued evolution. If one of our Brothers or Sisters can prove themselves to be a loyal and dedicated member of the Brotherhood, then I believe they have earnt their keep, even if they are at the beginning of their service.”

“A good outlook,” Ingram said, standing up and granting him proper acknowledgement. “Now, if you’ll excuse me, I have to ensure my team isn’t being heckled, again, by those ‘Atom Cats.’ They’re one hell of a nuisance.”

“They really are,” Quinlan said dryly. “If they were being honest when saying they intend to be a ‘power armour gang,’ then they’re certainly succeeding in acting the part of a gang.”

“Needless intimidation tactics, disruption of legitimate and important activities,” Teagan rolled his eyes. “I’d find them amusing if it weren’t for the fact they’ve taken to playing a song about ‘making a man’ out of people on the tarmac in an attempt to annoy us into taking them seriously. If they think obnoxiously playing music from pre-War musicals and interfering with the scrap materials recovery of some of our Knights is doing anyone good, they’re mistaken.”

“What shocks me most is the immaturity,” Maxson said, standing up and walking over towards where, from the Prydwen’s command deck, a bit of the gang’s ‘outpost’ was visible. “Several of them are in their thirties, and none of them are younger than twenty four. One would hope they’d have at least some self awareness and maturity, but apparently not.”

“They might as well be feral children,” Kells coldly remarked. “They have the attitude of such. So much as I would like to forcibly remove them, giving into their childish behaviour by acknowledging it so brashly would, I suspect, only embolden them.”

“It would,” Maxson said, his eyes narrowing upon noticing the gang seemed to be preparing some sort of obstacle course. “What in the world are they building?”

“An arena for capture the flag,” Teagan informed him. “They seem to think it’s amusing but, really, it’s nothing more or less than a waste of perfectly good resources we could make much better use of.”

“They also pelted the gantry with paintballs the other night,” Ingram said, crossing her arms. “We’ve secured the area, now, so they can’t get into it but, for God’s sake, I can’t think of much more childish than just a fraction of the things they’ve done, including the paintballs.”

“Seems they’re another nuisance in the Commonwealth to deal with,” Quinlan said, scoffing. “They won’t be able to keep this up forever. Soon enough, they – and the Commonwealth at large – will come to understand the importance of our mission here and, then, their attempts to interfere will stop. Unfortunately, for now, we have to wait this out a little longer, never mind how aggravating it is.”

The Institute
August the 10th, 2288
14:00

“Now, I am well aware my observations of REM sleep in our third generation synths have been off putting, and I understand the confirmation of their ability to experience REM sleep and to, of course, dream is disconcerting for some. However, I truly see this as a remarkable sign of just how well we have created our synths, and proof of our success in replicating man.”

Dr. Alan Binet being almost giddy at the start of his presentation had been, in and of itself, a sign of where it would be going. Every time before, when he had been proven right about the functions or behaviours of synths, he would be just as giddy, if not a bit smug about being correct. This time was no different. For the other members of the Directorate, though his slightly smug comments on how he had successfully proven, in particular, Dr. Justin Ayo wrong about the third generation synths malfunctioning could be heavy handed, they were at least somewhat amusing. His excitement at discussing the subject overall, however, was exhausting. Every so often, glancing at each other, Dr. Allison and Dr. Nathan Filmore were both relieved Quentin did not have to come and was therefore not squirming and uncomfortable with the fact they were leaving him alone for most of the day, with his adoptive sister minding him and his baby sister or not. Dr. Clayton Holdren, on the other hand, was almost as excited and fascinated by the subject of synth sentience as Alan, taking notes on nearly everything the other man said. Disgruntled, Dr. Justin Ayo said nothing, biting back the urge to ask Alan a myriad of more personal questions about his research. Across from him, he knew, too, Dr. Alana Secord was giving him a sharp, pointed look every time he nearly said something. Trying to distract himself, he kept wondering why some of the people present were there.

Dr. Evan Watson, he supposed, was a reasonable presence, not the least of which being because of his being called, every so often, to assist in decision making by the Directorate. The same could be said of Dr. William Moseley, who seemed less than thrilled to be listening to Alan as he discussed the signs of sentience in humans and how they correlated to the signs of sentience in synths. As for Dr. Nathan Filmore, though he did not like to admit it, Justin knew, as the third most senior member of Advanced Systems and the husband of the head of the Facilities Division, his presence was understandable. Most interesting to him, however, was the presence of Dr. Chantelle Zimmer, one of the SRB’s top psychiatrists who, when not working with Coursers and weeding out those unfit to continue as a Courser or those who should become Coursers, spent most of her time reading or taking on surface missions to assist Coursers. Much like her father, admittedly. She does her work well, and without complaint. Most people complain and complain if they get sent to the surface for anything. She at least has the good sense to take pride in being given such sensitive projects, and she takes orders incredibly well. Most efficient person in the SRB, without question. Of course, as he had expected, both Shaun, as the Institute’s Director, and his father were present, but, much to his annoyance, both men seemed quite interested in and quite tolerant of Alan’s assertions, assertions which grew bolder and bolder the longer the presentation went on.

What annoyed him most, however, was the fact he found himself in agreement with Dr. Madison Li in her exasperation with Alan.

“While signs of sentience are, naturally, subjective, we narrowed down the list to three key factors for the sake of our study,” Alan proudly said, clicking to the next slide of his presentation and pulling up a three dimensional, holographic model of a synth brain. “The first is the ability to recognise and experience stimuli in an emotional manner or, in simpler words, perceive both sensation and emotion. The second is the ability contemplate and act productively using knowledge, experience, understanding, common sense, and insight, which is typically referred to sapience, though I believe the term is becoming outdated. Finally, the third criterion we used was whether or not this can develop in isolation, without a synth knowing they are not a human and without being given anything to do or consider.”

“I’ll admit, the similarities in the brain of a synth which has been active versus the brain of a human are stark,” Nate mused. “I would like to see much more research done into the subject before giving a definitive answer, but the possibility of our third generation synths becoming sentient and conscious does seem to be there. The evidence you’ve provided towards synths dreaming is incredibly damning to any argument opposing the possibility of third generation synths being able to experience some form of consciousness.”

“It is, though, Dr. Binet, truly,” Allie said, raising an eyebrow when the holographic display shut off and Alan moved to the next slide displaying the results of multiple brain scans in both control and experimental groups. “On page ninety seven of your study, you cite you asked Coursers questions about things topside. I understand why, of course, but, on a specific note, was it necessary to ask Coursers undergoing brain scans if they could recall dreaming of wasteland creatures? Or to ask regular synths the same question in an attempt to ‘probe the boundaries of imagination,’ as you put it?”

“Very much so, thank you Dr. Filmore!” Alan happily responded. “I’ll confess – when I first observed our synths experiencing signs of REM sleep, I did wonder to myself this: do synths dream of irradiated cows, colloquially known as brahmin? This, of course, was a question which came to me as it was similar to the title of one of my favourite novels by Philip K. Dick – Do Androids Dream Of Electric Sheep? Ironically, considering I am sure Dick had no idea of what we could ultimately achieve in the scientific community, the answer turned out to be yes. Some of our Coursers did have dreams within which wasteland creatures were recalled.”

“The thorough documentations of these…dreams are remarkable,” Clayton said, pausing to review some of the footage of the dreams in awe. “I never expected a synth could experience fragments of memory again in a dream, and in the same way we do, no less.”

“I was rather astounded to find out about it,” Alan confessed. “As for our regular synths, their dreams were much more…fantastical. I intend to look further into why, but I posit, at the moment, the reason the dreams Coursers are now documented as having been more grounded than those of our regular synths is because they have experience above ground and therefore do not have an overactive imagination about it.”

“Well, either way it’s disappointing to know this is an issue we cannot do much about,” Justin said, barely restraining his annoyance. “Although I think we can firmly say this ‘overactive imagination’ is likely why some synths have come to the incorrect conclusion they are not machines and instead people.”

“I beg to disagree, Dr. Ayo,” Alan confidently replied. “Our third generation synths are displaying signs of sentience and consciousness. If we consider ourselves people for those reasons, then I believe it should be no different for a synth. If a synth can consciously desire, for instance, affection and approval from its peers – human or synth – then it is recognising and having an emotional response to its surroundings, the same as any human.”

“How far are you willing to take that question, then?” Justin said, frowning. “Have you, for instance, had E9-25 tested after your conjugal engagements?”

Alan dropped his clicker, his face flushing red.

“I…well, I…” He nervously looked around the room, his gaze briefly falling on the Filmores and, beside them, the Thompsons, both couples sending him a warning look. “Dr. Ayo, really,” Alan eventually spluttered. “Would you dare ask anyone else in the Institute if they bed their partner?”

“I don’t have to,” Justin irritably replied. “In your case, it is relevant, because your ‘partner’ is not human, and is a synth, and, if you are claiming synths are somehow conscious, I don’t doubt you’re on the verge of claiming they have the ability to pair bond.”

“Eve has pair bonded, not only with myself, of course, but with Liam. She might as well be his mother,” Alan said, then shaking his head. “I did not include E9-25 in this study because I have a very obvious conflict of interest, and because it would be egregiously unethical.”

“Correct, Dr. Binet,” Madison said, though she could not hide her discomfort. “Notwithstanding, I don’t think anyone should or wants to know what goes on between you and Eve. It’s your business, and it’s best if it’s kept away from everyone else.”

“Also, I should point out,” Clayton awkwardly added. “Biochemically speaking, with all the functions the human body carries out, it could be considered a machine too.”

“Synths are largely organic,” Nathan mildly noted. “The only things inorganic about them – for our third generation synths, at any rate – are their chips and their blood, technically speaking. Everything from bones, to tissue, to muscle, to the brain are grown from human tissue so, while not created by natural human reproduction, what makes a synth body a body is by and large the same as to what makes our bodies a body.”

“Precisely!” Alan said, albeit still flustered. “Though they’re not perfectly congruent to human bodies, they are created from the same things.”

“Then tell me, Dr. Binet,” Justin venomously began. “Why should we consider a machine we can erase the memories of and reset a person just because it can experience the same things as us?”

“Because we do those things to make it easier to pretend the synths are not able to be our equals,” Alan said, a hint of annoyance to his voice. “There doesn’t need to be a distinction between us and them. Even our earliest Coursers had been documented as experiencing REM sleep. Though I did not have as many chances to observe him as I’d like, Armitage showed immense signs of sentience when I was last able to take brain scans and observe him about four years ago. I look forward to reviewing him again.”

“Unfortunately, Dr. Binet, reviewing S3-47 will be impossible,” Shaun said, standing up. “I understand you are about halfway through your presentation, and I will not take long. I’m quite sure everyone needs a break to have lunch before the second half of your presentation,” He paused, waiting for everyone in the room to be attentive. “As you all well know, the Brotherhood Of Steel have been causing…issues for us since their arrival in the Commonwealth. Unfortunately, they, also, had already done significant damage to the Institute before their arrival, the facts of which I only recently received confirmation of.”

Madison narrowed her eyes. “In what manner?”

“The Brotherhood Of Steel found out about Dr. Zimmer and his presence in the Capital Wasteland after over a decade of them being unaware of his importance to the Institute, or, really, his tie to the Institute in the first place. The same could be said for S3-47,” Shaun said, looking at Dr. Chantelle Zimmer, who had raised an eyebrow. “Dr. Zimmer, as we already discussed the matter, might I have permission to say what we have already discussed, now, outright, here?”

She nodded. “As always, I leave it to your discretion.”

“Thank you,” Shaun said with a short nod. “I will be quite blunt,” He went on. “The Brotherhood Of Steel killed Dr. Zimmer and, no doubt, have destroyed and dissected S3-47 for their own gains.”

Justin stared at him in disbelief. “So, I am officially the head of the SRB,” He smirked at the other members of the Directorate. “Tragic Zimmer had to die, of course, but I truly –”

“Dr. Secord is the head of the SRB, Dr. Ayo, a decision I have been considering for quite a while,” Shaun informed him, hiding his amusem*nt at the look of anger and disbelief on Justin’s face. “In light of both your inability to curb synth escapes and your lack of transparency in your actions in the SRB, I have promoted Dr. Secord to head of the SRB and Dr. Zimmer as her second in command. You are third in SRB seniority.”

“You can’t be serious!” Justin furiously exclaimed. “How can you possibly justify this? After over a decade of keeping the SRB running in Dr. Zimmer’s stead –”

“Ignoring your borderline insubordinate tone, I will simply say this,” Shaun said, raising a hand to silence him. “This is a matter I have been critically considering for several months. I did not make such a decision lightly, and I expect it not to be taken as such. Have I made myself clear?”

Justin spluttered but, the others beginning to leave for the brief, single hour break, left the room, looking rather disgruntled.

“To quote one of your favourite television shows, Jannie,” Enrico whispered to his wife. “He should ‘stop acting like a disgruntled pelican.’”

Janet affectionately swatted at him. “Hush you. This is serious.”

“Consider me quite stunned,” Alan said, stepping over to Alana while she stood up. “But congratulations on your promotion, Dr. Secord,” He shook her hand and then sympathetically turned towards Chantelle, bowing his head. “My condolences on the loss of your father, Dr. Zimmer.”

“Thank you, Dr. Binet, but he and I have not spent much time together since he left for the Capital the first time,” Chantelle said, pausing. “In some ways, it, sadly, felt as though I’d already lost him long before he actually passed.”

“I get the feeling things will be going much more smoothly,” Nathan remarked when Madison walked past him and Allie. “This a relief, I assume?”

Madison turned back around, raising an eyebrow in amusem*nt.

“Well, I would be lying if I said I weren’t happy about this particular change, now wouldn’t I?”

Goodneighbour
August the 15th, 2288
18:34

“Unbelievable as it is, the Institute does, in fact, use teleportation as its primary mode of entrance and exit. Hesitant as I was, however, I am glad you were able to come to an agreement with Miss Norwich.”

When Desdemona, Glory, and Deacon entered her laboratory and closed the doors almost silently behind themselves, Dr. Madeline Amari pulled up the records of Glory’s prior procedures. After guiding Nora Norwich through Kellogg’s memories, this is simple in comparison. Still, the toll it takes on Glory is steeper than she’ll admit. At least Desdemona is here for the procedures, now, which should help keep her calmer and more reasonable. Out of the corners of her eyes, she observed Glory taking her seat in one of the memory loungers, Deacon taking his seat in the other. Desdemona pulled a chair over to where Glory was sat in the memory lounger, and reached over to take her hands, squeezing them with a reassuring smile. She eased the tension in her body a little, but it soon returned when Amari came over to attach a few nodules to her head. The doctor’s hands a bit cold, Glory flinched and held Desdemona’s hands a little tighter. Deacon, on the other hand, was completely relaxed, barely moving or responding at all when Amari took his vitals one last time after attaching the other set of nodules to his head. Concerned, she waited a minute to ensure he wasn’t having any medical issues before stepping back over to and sitting down in front of her computer terminal. Booting up the system, she waited to begin the simulation until both Glory and Deacon confirmed they did, in fact, still want to go through with the procedure. Then, a bit nervous, unsure as always of how Desdemona would react, she began the simulation.

“Keep talking to me…” She said, glancing over her shoulder at Glory. “What are you seeing?”

“A lot of white, silver, grey…same sh*t as usual. Guess the Institute aren’t a huge fan of interior design,” Deacon’s voice said. “But it’s not the same as…it’s not the room where they get me talking. It’s…”

Almost shaken by the amount of people around him, Deacon kept reminding himself none of it was actively happening. Memory. It was a memory. Still, no matter how many times they did it, something about the simulation was disorienting, almost, at times, painfully so. Taking a look around the room, he jumped in his skin when he saw the machines on one end of it and a series of pods up against the walls, pods within which synths were held. Limp. Glassy, lifeless eyes. Dead. For all intents and purposes, they were dead, or near it. Either they had been ‘reset’ by the Institute or were about to be. The machines at the end of the room were what caught his eyes. Chairs. They were chairs, or, at least, something similar to them but for whatever purpose the Institute had for them. He had little hope for what they would do. The most comfortable part about it looked to be a head rest. There were needles, and restraints. A sickening sensation started bubbling in his chest, and he swallowed hard when the doors to the room opened, followed by Glory entering. Her hair was dark, again, tied up in a bun which looked painfully tight on the top of her head, and in the same heavy uniform with the same austere look on her face. She was only a little bit ahead of an irritable man with an aggressive scowl on his face.

He was given pause, however, when another man, one dressed the same as Glory, entered the room, carrying the body of a woman over his shoulders.

A woman he recognised all too well when she was laid out on an autopsy table Glory rolled out from a closet in the room.

“X5-12, good work on retrieving X8-31. The gang in the town are dead, you said? The ones responsible for the destruction of X8-31?” The man frowned at the body. “Ruined the unit’s chest. I doubt any of the parts within the unit are worth recovering, or even able to be recovered.”

“Dr. Binet has requested you turn the unit over to him after the examination of the damage and the recovery of its Courser chip,” Glory said flatly. Emotionlessly. Deacon took a step back, horror and dread beginning to latch onto him. “He would like to have the unit studied, specifically for the state of its brain now it has been dead for a great deal of time.”

“He does?” The man said with a sick smile. “Bring the unit to Dr. Binet personally after this analysis. X5-12, you have a report on how X8-31 was able to stay off our radar for three years after escape?”

“I do, Dr. Ayo,” X5-12 said, going silent when a scientist entered the room and then shut and locked access again. “Dr. Zimmer. You are here to perform the autopsy?”

“Not an autopsy, unit,” She coldly said, pulling on a pair of sterile gloves. “An analysis of the destruction of the unit’s systems. We need the information on the way the unit was able to be destroyed so easily by a group of wastelanders calling themselves the ‘University Point Deathclaws.’ A ridiculous name, but beyond the point.”

“This recovery should not have taken a whole month, so your report better be substantial,” Dr. Ayo said, contemptuously staring at X5-12 while Dr. Zimmer began examining the already open chest. “For instance, did you learn how the unit ended up off our radar for so long?”

“X8-31, as a Courser, had a great deal of stealth training. The unit pretended to be human and adopted the name ‘Barbara.’ She, about a year after arriving in the ‘town’ of University Point, married a man called Deacon Chesterfield,” X5-12 said, and Deacon’s hands clenched into fists. “They lived as poor farmers, and he was a member of the ‘gang’ calling themselves the ‘University Point Deathclaws.’ The gang no longer exists.”

“Really?” Dr. Zimmer said, removing pieces of equipment which, surprisingly, were relatively intact. Deacon tried to look away but found himself unable to stop staring at her while she worked, wanting to throttle her. “And what happened?”

“Deacon Chesterfield murdered them. He buried X8-31 and then left the town. He has not been seen since July of this year,” X5-12 said with a smirk. “He is of no interest to the Institute. He may, even, be dead by now, as a loose cannon, after all.”

“Sounds like it,” Dr. Zimmer said, laughing as she continued to remove pieces from X8-31. “Still, his gang were clearly effective. This is a massive amount of damage. Did they know the unit was a synth?”

“They did,” X5-12 said. “I am not quite sure how.”

“A matter Robotics will have to provide us real answers for this time,” Dr. Ayo said, aggravated. “It’s not enough for a unit to be defective and escape for years on end, they had to make it defective to the point of being easily destroyed by some common plebians.”

“X8-31 was a good Courser,” Glory said. “It’s too bad she could not recognise it.”

“Well,” Dr. Ayo said pompously. “I would certainly –”

Screaming.

The sound of screaming broke through first, followed by light, out of focus, and then some shapes which were equally out of focus. Something sharp, hot, and painful felt to be ramming in and out of his skull. A figure began to come into focus, and strong arms grabbed onto him. One pair. Another pair. Then another pair. Disoriented, Deacon barely realised he was still screaming until he stopped, his throat feeling as though it were burning. He flailed a little in the chair he was sat onto, and then, their faces and figures still unfocused, felt himself beginning to cry. When things came into focus, he realised Glory was staring at him, looking badly shaken herself. Beside her, Desdemona had her arms wrapped around her to hold her close and steady. Amari let out a heavy sigh, muttering something to herself in a language none of them could understand. Her heels clicked on the floor, and, when she returned, she stood calmly, arms crossed. This is precisely why I wanted them to take a step back from these procedures. We don’t know what we’ll find in there, and we never do. Seeing Glory begin crying into Desdemona, clutching onto her shirt, Amari nervously watched them, seeing Deacon having broken down crying too. A few minutes passed in silence, the doctor unsure of what to say or do, but, uncomfortable with both the silence and what they had seen, eventually broke it.

“The mind is a very delicate thing,” Amari said, looking between them. “I told you once before you would, likely, see things better left forgotten. I am not going to do this again. The two of you have had enough bad reactions in the aftermath of these procedures for me to be comfortable continuing with them.”

“I’m so sorry, Deacon,” Glory whispered, looking at him through bleary eyes, still clutching onto Desdemona, who was cradling her in her arms. “I –”

“How many times have you told me the score’s even?” Deacon quietly replied. “It is. You didn’t have a choice. But those scientists, the ‘Dr. Zimmer’ and ‘Dr. Ayo,’ are going to pay. If we ever get into the Institute, I’m going to kill them both. They’re the ones responsible for what happened to Barb…and a lot of what was done to you.”

The Commonwealth
August the 21st, 2288
11:11

“Thanks for coming out here. So, I’ve led you on long enough. Come out back, and let’s see the tarberry farm. I’ll even let you have a free tasting.”

Jovially whistling and twirling a long shovel in his hands as if it were a flag or a rifle in a colour guard show, one of the ghouls leading the settlement waved the Minutemen to follow after him. The past few hours had been mostly talking with members of the group, several of whom had already been sent out to speak with and work with the ghouls building and repairing some of the settlement’s defences. The light breeze in the summer air was a nice change from the sweltering heat of the past week. Amazed by the settlement’s self sufficiency, Derek Branson couldn’t help but look around at everything they walked by. Just as amazed, Sturges took out a notebook and pen, making note of everything he could. Codsworth, happy as ever to see people working together to rebuild, began speaking excitedly with Sturges as the man took notes. The buildings, on the outside, were cleanly painted and glass was being made and replaced in even the smallest windows in each of the buildings making up the large farm. Electrical generators were running smoothly, and everything from lighting to air conditioning were active and well. A shop was bustling from out of one of the buildings, and, from overheard conversation, a few caravans came by at least once every other week. When they reached the back of the main building, one of the largest farming patches were visible but the first thing they all noticed was an old swimming pool, filled with tarberries. Unable to hide his smile, Preston briefly closed his eyes, taken back, fleetingly, to a simpler time, in childhood, back home, before everything went to hell.

“Filling the pool with tarberries…” Preston said, awestruck. “Ingenious.”

“Take it you like tarberries?” Their leader chuckled. “It’s all good. I like them too. Deirdre! Come on over here!”

“What’s it this time, Wiseman?” She said, catching the shovel he had been carrying with one hand. “Oh! So, he really did it. Good to see you guys. The Minutemen being back was good news to hear.”

“Glad to be here,” Preston said, shaking her hand and then Wiseman’s again. “How have things been around here of late? You been farming here for long?”

“About three years,” She replied, turning around and laughing when she saw a group of kids on the playground by the main farming patch. “A lot of us came here as families. Two of the boys over there are mine, eight and nine, and rowdier than a mole rat on cocaine.”

"Oh dear," Codsworth said. "I hope they don't cause too much trouble."

"They don't," She said with a smile. "Some children are just rambunctious."

Derek chuckled. “They can be a handful. Out of curiosity, were the kids the ones to give you guys the name ‘the Slog?’”

“Partially,” Wiseman replied, laughing himself. “Came about after a heavy rainstorm a little while back, too, after some traders had to – their words – ‘slog’ through all the mud to get a shipment of tarberries out here. They ended up saying it was worth it, though. I say it’s just great people share our vision.”

“It’s a damn good one,” Sturges said with a smile. “You folks are real determined. I don’t think I’ve seen a lot of people more hardworking than you guys seem to be.”

“We’ve had to be,” Wiseman said with a shrug. “People ain’t exactly fans of ghouls. Never have been. My sister and I were both born this way – parents were both ghouls – but never realised how people other than ghouls view us in the Commonwealth until we went to Diamond City for the first time when we were around ten. Weird to say twenty years ago we were ten.”

“Time’s a bitch,” Deirdre said, staking the shovel into the ground. “But also a good thing. Three years has made this place go from a brahmin sh*t pot to a bustling farm.”

“And who did most of the shovelling?” Another ghoul said, coming out from in the tarberry bog. “I was the one who cleared out and cleaned the f*ck out of this old pool. You want to try it? We ain’t going to refill it, but you can try and dig a second pool if you’re feeling motivated.”

“f*cking around with her again, Holly?” Wiseman said, elbowing her when she stepped out and joined them. “Go ahead. I always like to hear people take fun jabs at each other around here.”

“Alright, then,” She said with a light and deeply sarcastic edge to her voice. “You’re sh*t, we’re sh*t, everything is sh*t, and why try for a better world when there ain’t exactly much better out there?”

“Holly’s one of them ghouls who got kicked out of Diamond City,” Deirdre explained. “Must have been about seven or eight years back, real early into McDonough’s crusade against ghouls. She tried to protest with a few other ghouls, and security threw her out for punching McDonough in the face.”

Derek raised an eyebrow. “Think you did something a lot of people want to do back there.”

"He's not the kindest fellow," Codsworth agreed, quieting his systems as they kept whirring. "Frustration with him is understandable. I imagine people appreciated you...making it clear how you felt about him. How they also feel about him, of course."

“I made it absolutely clear how we feel about the son of bitch,” Holly agreed with a smirk when she turned back to Derek. “You look like a city type, smooth skin. Don’t worry about it. We’re just glad the Minutemen are willing to help us fix up our defences. We’ve been in a good place since we got here and began making our farm here. Only had a few attacks from raiders. Good thing about being a settlement of ghouls from all around the Commonwealth – and beyond it, honestly, we’ve had people come here from as far away as what remains of the nearest portions of Canada – is people are a bit more hesitant to f*ck with you.”

“The way people perceive us is a blessing and a curse,” Wiseman said, shaking his head. “I also used to live in Diamond City until the rat bastard mayor threw all us ghouls out, though I was kicked out after Holly’s protest and punch out. One of the last ones who held on. It was all bullsh*t. We’re ugly, some of us turn feral and kill people, we gives the kids nightmares, all the usual stuff we get from you smooth skins. Now, yeah, it’s true there was an incident in Diamond City about fifteen years ago where a ghoul turned feral and someone got hurt but how many humans have suddenly turned violent and killed someone?”

“Far too many,” Preston said with a heavy sigh. “I’m so sorry to hear it. But I hope you know you’re doing a good thing here.”

“Thanks,” Wiseman said with a smile. “We ghouls should have a place where we can feel welcome, and that was part of why I started up this farm with my wife and a few of our friends. So, it’s a good start, I’m proud of all the work we’ve done, and, most pertinently, I think we can do more.”

“Absolutely, which is part of why we’re here,” Sturges said, stretching out his shoulders. “Have you guys been having any trouble lately?”

“A little,” Wiseman said, looking annoyed for the first time. “You know the people operating the big ass sky thing? They had some of their ‘people’ come by a few days ago. Sounds like they want supplies. I heard other settlements are getting bothered, too, but who knows. Either way, they’re a little too familiar.”

“Worse than a little too familiar,” Deirdre said darkly. “A few of ‘em were disgusting about the kids being curious about their weapons and fancy power armour.”

“Told them they were abominations,” Holly said, scoffing. “The only abominations are them, thinking they’re the ones running things in the Commonwealth now because of all their fancy toys.”

“Damn them,” Derek swore, trying to restrain himself. “What do you need to defend yourselves against them?”

“We think we scared them off pretty good by shooting the sh*t out of one of their power armour suits, but they might come back,” Wiseman responded. “If you want to help, having some ground support would be nice. We keep up our defences ourselves, but we ain’t exactly fighters.”

“We’ll have some of our people stationed here as soon as possible,” Preston said, waving a few of the other Minutemen with them over from tasting some of the tarberries. “But I think a few of us would be happy to help until then.”

“Hey, as long as we get tarberries,” One of them said with a wink. “You guys seem great.”

“Happy to hear it,” Wiseman said, high fiving her. “Welcome aboard.”

“Thanks for trusting us,” Preston said, smiling when he, Holly, and Deirdre smiled at him. “Let us know whatever it is you need. The Minutemen are back, and I’m going to do whatever it takes to keep the oath I swore when I first joined up, no matter how different things are now than they were then.”

Chapter 27: Something Above

Chapter Text

Diamond City
August the 24th, 2288
17:22

Having spent the better part of fifteen years working as the personal secretary to one Nicholas Julius Valentine, Eleanor Perkins knew full well she would often be asked to find or procure strange things.

Information on the Glowing Sea, however, was not one she had ever anticipated; not after being asked to find an unusual type of alcohol (which Solomon and Vadim ultimately helped her find), not after being asked if she knew how to light a stove (which she did), and not even after being asked if she could fix up a coat with a metal toothpick for a sewing needle (which went better than expected). After spending two weeks trying to find a map of the Glowing Sea and finding nothing, she asked (read: begged) Myrna to find her a detailed map of the Commonwealth from before the War. Though not thrilled about it, when given a hundred caps, Myrna did find and bring her a set of maps of the pre-War Commonwealth before grouchily telling her to leave her be. Staring at them now, taped down to her desk and taped onto the walls, she collapsed into her desk chair, staring up at the ceiling for a few minutes. Nick on one side and Nora on the other, she awkwardly smiled at them when she sat back up. It was becoming almost a routine. Satisfied she was alright, Nick walked over to one of his many overflowing filing cabinets and began looking for what little information he had managed to nab over the years about the Commonwealth’s most inhospitable locale. Nora, frustrated by staring at the same maps for the better part of three days, instead sat down on the stairs going up into the apartments, tiredly resting her head in her hands.

It all, she worried, was beginning to feel nearly hopeless and, therefore, pointless.

“Wish the Railroad had been able to help you two more with this,” Ellie hesitantly said, standing up to take a closer look at the map on her desk. “You’d think they’d know if an Institute scientist left, wouldn’t they? If only because they’d want to talk to them, without letting them know they’re part of the Railroad, of course.”

“They knew a decent bit about the Institute,” Nora said, shaking out her hair. “But I…I agree. All of them apart from Hadley were…I have no idea if they want to help me or just help themselves. Hadley seemed terrified of saying some things in front of them, too, and terrified of something happening to her kids and Piper if they knew about the Railroad and her involvement. But honestly? I’m glad she didn’t tell me about them from the offset. I either wouldn’t have believed it or been even more suspicious of it.”

“Hadley is certainly the most concerned for you, which is good,” Nick noted. “I was taken aback by her demeanour, though. She's always been a bit paranoid but the way she seemed desperate not to let on how much she's going to help you even if it breaks their protocols? And it also seems she's got something else tormenting her these days. Derek is going to be worried sick when he finds out she’s started smoking. But that’s neither here nor there. For us, the issue of finding Virgil remains.”

“No kidding,” Nora swore under her breath. “How are we supposed to find one person in near hell when the only thing we know is they went there?”

“How is a question I’m still stuck on too. All of this, it’s far from ideal,” Nick said, continuing to thumb through file after file. “Not to mention the amount of planning necessary for something this dangerous. I don’t even have to worry about radiation and it makes me nervous. Guess the Institute making me a synth is good for a few more things than I thought.”

Ellie glanced at him, almost amused. “You keep laughing at death in the face, one of these days, death is going to laugh back.”

“Don’t worry about me,” Nick said, turning to her with a smile. “This is partially a waiting game, too,” He said, his face falling at the thought. “Not to say the Glowing Sea is ever…safe, long term, without a lot of luck and good shelter, but it gets a lot easier to navigate after mid-October.”

“So we have to keep hoping, until then, we learn something?” Nora said, biting back annoyance. “I can’t believe this, any of it,” She muttered. “Or, at least, I don’t want to.”

“Can’t blame you,” Nick shook his head. “I don’t like we’ll have to wait, either, but it might be for the best. Figuring out where we’re going is only half the battle. The other half is figuring out how we’re going to keep you safe.”

Nora sighed. “Another thing to worry about. f*ck.”

“From what I know about the history of it, the Glowing Sea was where the bomb aimed for Boston hit after it was gunned down by the US military,” Nick said, stepping away from the filing cabinet and over towards the map on his secretary’s desk. “The bomb, if I remember correctly, ended up hitting a little ways off Providence in Rhode Island, really only a couple miles off hitting Massachusetts.”

Nora raised an eyebrow. “What does that mean for the…lingering impact?”

“The main result of it is the majority of Massachusetts was left damaged but liveable” Nick said, waving her over and taking out a marker, beginning to circle part of the map. “From what I’ve learnt over the years, the Glowing Sea starts around Attleboro, goes as far west as Scituate, as far east as Rehoboth, as far south as Bristol, and as far north as North Attleboro.”

“So those are the…points in the circle where, roughly, the impact was the largest?” Nora fell silent when she took a closer look at the map. “The…I grew up only half an hour, give or take, from Providence,” She said quietly. “A little less than twenty miles away. My grandparents lived in downtown Providence, which was why we moved to Plainville from Mattapoisett in the first place. I was maybe two or three when we moved and lived there until I left to study in Boston.”

“Oh dear,” Ellie said, reaching over to sympathetically set a hand to her shoulder. “I’m so sorry,” She said a bit awkwardly. “I…don’t really know what to say. It must feel a lot more recent, having been –”

“I wasn’t even sure how long I’d been in there, how long any of us had been in there,” Nora said, her voice unsteady. “When I…when I was leaving Concord to…after I’d met the Minutemen and we decided to head to…to where I’d been living before the War in Sanctuary a couple miles north of Concord, Preston and I started talking. I…I broke down when he told me it was 2287 and was confused about how I hadn’t…how I hadn’t known…”

“Went to sleep in one century, woke up in another,” Nick said, capping and setting down the marker. “A raw deal, to put it lightly.”

“To put it very lightly,” Nora said bitterly. “It feels as though it’s only been just shy of a year, but it’s been what? Almost two hundred and eleven years? And Shaun…he’s…he’s turned ten without me, maybe eleven? All because of Kellogg, because he –”

“Nora –” Nick calmly began.

“The hell am I supposed to do?” She shakily snapped. “I’m his mother! I had one responsibility, one thing I had to do, and I couldn’t even manage it! I should have been able to protect him, even if his father had to…even if Nate…”

Letting out a frustrated sigh, Nora leaned forward a bit, her hands gripping the edge of the secretary’s desk. She closed her eyes, for a minute, trying to calm her breathing but couldn’t. When her eyes opened again, the first thing she saw was her wedding ring, glinting against the light from one of the lamps hanging from the ceiling. Her heartrate spiking, the air feeling harder and harder to breathe, she slowly let go of the desk, her hands trembling. The ring glinted against the light again and, her chest hurting and her head throbbing, she all but tore it off and threw it across the room. Unable to stop herself from crying anymore, Nora stumbled back a little, her back sliding down against the wall until she collapsed into herself on the floor, sobbing uncontrollably. Still trembling, she wrapped her arms around her legs, holding them tightly against her chest and burying her face into her knees. Or, if not, I’ll kill you the same way I killed your husband. Kellogg. His coarse voice, his hollow laugh, his smug demeanour, and his taunting smile lunged at her. He had won. Nate was gone, drugged, and then later killed; all so Kellogg could play games as her son’s surrogate father from time to time. And Shaun…he was gone, too, handed over to the Institute, out of reach.

“Why?” Nora whispered, wiping tears away from her eyes when she looked up, taken aback when she realised Nick had knelt down in front of her, staring at her, brow furrowed in worry. “My son is still gone, and I’m no closer to having him back. We’re grasping at straws, and if…if Virgil is dead, too, or if he’s…if he’s left the Commonwealth, isn’t where he’s supposed to…”

“We’ll figure things out from there,” Nick reassuringly said. “But I think Amari is right, about Virgil. He wouldn’t go there from the Institute if he didn’t know he could survive out there.”

“Even so, it doesn’t tell us where Virgil went in there,” She said, still struggling to stop crying. “There’s about a hundred different places he could be in there, and –”

“Nora, please,” Nick hesitantly cut in, reaching over to set a fatherly hand to each of her shoulders. “Take a step back, for the time being, while we wait for it to be a bit…easier out there. I’ll do my best to figure more out before we go looking for him but trying to go on like this…it’s not good for you.”

“Maybe it’s not,” She quietly agreed. “But what other choice do I have? I have to find him. Shaun isn't just some missing kid, he's my son.”

“Which is why we have to plan this and plan it carefully. It’s not going to do him any good if you get yourself hurt or die trying to find him,” Nick said gently. “Until we know what we’re going to do with this…is there anything I can do to make things easier for you?”

“Just promise me you’ll find Shaun,” Nora said, struggling to find any words. “This can’t be for nothing.”

“It won’t be,” Nick promised, helping her stand up when she slowly stopped shaking. “We’ll find your son. No matter how long it takes.”

The Prydwen
September the 1st, 2288
11:09

“Under normal circ*mstances, I’d be much more annoyed with you for keeping an operation secret from me. However, with the information your team retrieved in consideration, I’ll let it go. Since I’ll have to plan a future operation with the others later regardless, I'd rather hear what your team learnt from you personally, as you’re here now as it is.”

“Thank you, Elder. I assure you what we’ve learnt will be immensely useful.”

Albeit a little nervous, Paladin Jackson Danse sat down at the small table in the Elder’s quarters, where he had been summoned. Looking up from the book she had been reading, Karissa Maxson smiled when her husband, after closing and locking the door, returned to join them. Restrained as ever even with a close friend, Arthur Maxson briefly took his wife’s hand before sitting down, letting it go quickly though not without an affectionate squeeze under the table. Quite used to informal discussions, even about official business, Danse found himself confused by his own unease but, almost as soon as the feeling came, brushed it off as being because of the knowledge he had stepped out of line. If this operation hadn’t panned out, this would be much worse. He shoved the thought away. What was done was done, and it had gone as intended. Reaching into his bag, he first removed the set of holotapes his best Scribe and Knight had recorded during their operation. Then came the written report and file, and, finally, the photographs, a piece of evidence even he had been stunned to receive. When he handed all of the documentation to Maxson, he expected to see no change in the demeanour of one of his few friends. Much to his surprise, Maxson lifted up the photograph, studying it closely before setting it down on the table.

“How recently was this taken?” He said, taken by surprise. “Your initial report stated Scribe Haylen and Knight Rhys began their undercover operation in late July.”

“They returned a little less than two weeks ago,” Danse replied. “My understanding is those photographs are from shortly before they left. By getting visual evidence and confirmation, they made the correct decision to return to the Cambridge Police Station and surrender the evidence to me. Scribe Haylen developed the photographs in the evidence processing laboratory in the basem*nt of the Cambridge Police Station. To say I was shocked to receive these would be an understatement.”

“Understandably,” Maxson said, glancing between him and the photographs. “What I find most surprising in these is the posturing of Dr. Li and the girl. Both of them appear to be rather at ease.”

“I can’t explain it,” Danse said, frustration at the edge of his voice. “From what I can tell, both she and the girl – whose name, I can now confirm, is indeed Jacqueline Spencer – come to allow the girl to spend time with her father. What’s strange about it is the fact they willingly return to the Institute.”

“Did Haylen and Rhys, by chance, figure out how Dr. Li and the girl come and go from the Institute?” Karissa’s face fell when he shook his head. “Well, that’s rather unfortunate.”

“They left the same day they came, but neither Haylen nor Rhys were able to discover how,” Danse told her. “They attempted to follow after them when a strange man accompanied them out of town but lost their trail soon after. Haylen believes there’s a chance they may have been spotted as shadowing them, and as such were deliberately misled.”

“Unfortunate as it is they couldn’t learn how Dr. Li and the girl get to and from the Institute, it won’t be necessary for them to continue to shadow them,” Maxson said, looking over the photographs again. “It’s more than enough to know they come and go. Now, we need to figure out how to get Dr. Li to come with us.”

“She may resist, at first,” Karissa cautioned. “While I imagine her and the girl appearing at ease is an act to remain in the Institute’s good graces, Dr. Li may be shocked to learn the Brotherhood not only want her back but want to do so for her own good.”

“True and, somewhat related to the point, I also think we should bring the girl with her,” Danse said. “I doubt she wants to be forced to go back to the Institute and removing her from the situation will keep her safe from them, until we are able to return her home following the Institute’s defeat.”

“A good point. I wouldn’t know where to begin, when it comes to considering what she must be going through,” Maxson shook his head. “I don’t understand how the town has done nothing but accept this. They’re putting a young girl in mortal danger, and the fact they seem to not be bothered by it is appalling.”

“Haylen and Rhys noted, after their first interaction with him, her father seemed to be the only person uncomfortable with the arrangement,” Danse explained. “The rest of the town, from what they understood then, were relieved to have her gone. They believe it remains the case her father is resigned to the situation but upset by it, and the rest of the town are simply relieved to have her gone because it means the Institute no longer have any reason to harm the town.”

“But for how long?” Maxson said, irritated by the notion. “Their lack of thought is astounding. The Institute take whatever they want from the Commonwealth, whenever they want it, and they think trusting the Institute is a good idea all because they let a girl visit her father every so often?”

“It’s an atrocity,” Karissa said, miffed. “I have to put some blame on the girl’s father for this, too. He of all people should know better than to allow this.”

“Yes, he absolutely is partially to blame,” Maxson said, worriedly looking to her, for a minute. “Speaking of, are you feeling alright?”

Karissa smiled. “I am. Perhaps a bit judgemental as we’re soon to be parents ourselves, but perfectly alright.”

“Good,” He said, briefly smiling himself before turning back to Danse. “Were Haylen and Rhys at all able to determine how often they visit the town?”

“Unfortunately, no,” Danse sombrely replied. “If we knew that, it would make things a great deal simpler.”

“It would,” Maxson frowned. “Having them stay there indefinitely on the off chance of being able to intercept Dr. Li and the girl would be a waste of their time and take away from their usual work in the field. At the same time, we need to intercept them as soon as possible.”

“As well as before the Institute realises we’re watching them,” Danse added. “We’ll only have a few chances to make this work before the Institute catches on, and we’ll have to use them wisely.”

“Yes, we will,” Maxson said, opening the file of notes from the Scribe and the Knight. “I’ll have to discuss this in more detail with Kells, Cade, and the Proctors. This will end up being a delicate operation whenever we get the opportunity to enact it.”

“It also has far more moving pieces than I’d like,” Danse said, pausing to think. “The first issue is figuring out when they’ll be there, followed by determining a way to discreetly remove them from the location before the Institute can intervene. We’ll also have to plan for retaliation by the Institute, which will no doubt be an attempt to damage our operations in the Commonwealth as a whole. The airport would be an unlikely target because we would easily overrun them, but Cambridge may be at risk.”

“The distance from the Prydwen would make the Cambridge Police Station a better target,” Maxson agreed. “However, I suspect, even if they did attack, they would reveal more about themselves than they would want to out in the open. I have no doubt they will attempt to take Dr. Li and the girl back to the Institute by force, but they most likely wouldn’t respond immediately.”

“From a purely tactical standpoint, it would be near suicide,” Danse said mildly. “Which is why I doubt they would attempt to get them back unless we presented them with a far too easy way to do so, something we won’t do. Even they must have some limits, hence why I believe they’ll retaliate by going after our smaller outposts.”

“Whatever the case, this has left me with a great deal to consider,” Maxson said, glancing at him with a hint of a smile. “Let’s hope we can figure out a strong, viable approach as soon as possible.”

Diamond City
September the 5th, 2288
13:27

“Feeling any better? If not, I’m going to keep trying.”

When Cait all but dropped a small basket of fries, a plate of toast, and a couple of bottles varying from beer to moonshine to water onto the table, Nora found it almost impossible not to laugh a little. Cait grinned and sat down across from her, and Nora smiled, reaching over to and twisting the cap off the water bottle. She nearly spilt it on herself when shouts came from the other end of the bar, only to begin laughing with Cait when the two of them saw it was Vadim cheering on a small fight, getting shouted at by Yefim to put an end to the fight. For a few minutes, they simply watched the fight, one of the women breaking a barstool over her companion’s head. Cait affectionately swatted at Nora’s arm when she picked up the toast before winking at her when she let her go and Nora began to slowly eat the toast. She only set it down briefly when she realised it was the first time she had eaten much of anything in the past few days. When the thought left her, she started eating the toast again, taking a few sips of water. The dizzy, hazy feeling she had thought inescapable seemed to be lightening every so often, and it occurred to her she had almost stopped eating entirely shortly after returning to Diamond City following the meeting with the Railroad. She tried not to dwell on it and, when she finished her toast, started laughing a little, again, when she saw Cait was popping the caps off bottles of beer, moonshine, and whiskey with her new favourite knife.

“Good to know pulling you away from all those maps and sh*te is helping perk you up,” Cait said, playfully waving her knife around. “Besides, I don’t have much to do these days. I’ve been so bloody bored, so I’m glad to now have something to do.”

“Keeping an eye on me?” Nora half jokingly said. “Or is there another reason you’re dragging me around Diamond City?”

“Well, I happen to like being around you, you sweet lass,” Cait said, sheathing her knife. “And it ain’t keeping an eye on you. Piper said me being around you keeps me out of trouble so it might as well be a win win, if I do say so me self.”

“I appreciate it,” Nora said, pausing to take another few sips of the water. “But, really,” She went on. “I like having you around too, Cait.”

“Glad to hear it,” She winked. “So…” She said, a bit nervously. “Are things…going alright with figuring out where the Institute scientist disappeared to in the Glowing Sea?”

“Glowing Sea? Institute? You two can’t honestly be having a party without me!”

Turning to see Rowdy standing in front of them, hands on her hips and a dramatic pout on her face, Nora and Cait stared at her, for a minute, taken aback. All surprise left them, however, when Rowdy pushed herself into the booth next to Nora and leaned over to grab the bottle of beer and a handful of fries. Waiting for them to keep talking, Rowdy took a few swigs on the beer with a faint smirk before munching on the fries in her free hand. She slammed the beer bottle onto the table to get their attention when they began glancing between each other, and clicked her fingers, smiling all the while. When they still seemed a bit hesitant to begin talking again, Rowdy started humming to herself. To get Cait’s attention, she teasingly waved the last few fries in her hands in front of her face, which worked. The former cage fighter swiftly pulled two of the fries out of her hands and twirled them around before eating them with a smirk. Satisfied she had the former cage fighter’s attention, Rowdy turned her sights on Nora. To get the former lawyer’s attention, she swiped up one of the bottle caps on the table, flipped it up and caught it between her right forefinger and thumb mere centimetres from the former lawyer’s face, smiling when, as intended, she got Nora’s full attention.

“Came to bother people, was happy to find you two, and here I am,” Rowdy cheerfully said, setting the bottle cap back on the table. “Now, tell me about this Institute guy and the Glowing Sea.”

Nora eyed her strangely. “You really have the weirdest timing in the world, don’t you?”

“I like to wander in and out of places, and happened to be in town because Zekey wants more…shall we say big arms to show the Brotherhood who’s who at the old airport we've used as a scrapyard for our turf for years and years now,” Rowdy shrugged. “I also happen to be curious and don’t have no filter, girly, you know?”

Cait shrugged. “Not as if I’ve got much room to talk,” She said, awkwardly picking up and sipping on the moonshine. “Since, you know…”

Nora sighed. “It’s a mess,” She said, brushing a hand through her hair. “But the son of a bitch who took my son? He gave him to the Institute, and I need to find…an Institute scientist – at least, we’re pretty sure – who left and went into the Glowing Sea.”

Rowdy let out a long, low whistle. “So, what you’re saying is you need to get your hands on the man to wrangle out how to get into the Institute from him?”

“Essentially, yes,” Nora said, falling silent. “There’s the question of where to even begin looking for him in that hell but, honestly, I can’t even…how the f*ck am I supposed to go in there and come back out alive? There are the environmental hazards, of course, and the rads but…but it’s all too close to home.”

“Close to home?” Rowdy repeated, confused. “Do you mean literally? Physically?”

“I do,” Nora said. Her hands shaking a little, she twined them together, trying to calm them to little avail. “The…one of the towns on the very edge of the…the town I grew up in is near where the Glowing Sea begins, and only…only about twenty miles away from where the bomb fell in Providence.”

“Is it still there?” Rowdy said, reaching over to comfortingly pat the former lawyer’s knee. “Or do you not know?”

“It might be. I…I hope it is,” Nora said, her voice wavering. “It has to be. I need to…I need to go home one last time, even though I won’t…even though my parents, my family…even though they’re gone.”

“Most of us would,” Rowdy said, shocked by the gentleness of her voice. “And, hey,” She went on when Nora looked over at her through increasingly bleary eyes. “Whatever the case, it’ll be okay, and, awful as the circ*mstances are, you’ll find the man you’re after, and you’ll get your son back. You’ve got serious f*cking guts.”

“Enough to be in their gang, I’m betting,” Cait eagerly added with a teasing smile. “In a few years, you might be strutting around in power armour with them.”

Nora looked up at her suddenly. “Power armour…” She paused, stunned. “Cait, you…that might be a piece to the –”

“How’d I forget?” Rowdy exclaimed, a bit more excitedly than she had meant to. “Nora, if you can fix the sh*t out of a suit of power armour, the amount of protection it’d give you against the rads that close to where the bomb hit would be immense, almost mitigating it entirely, provided you can find a place to take shelter in at night or during storms!”

“And between that, a strong, heavy duty hazmat suit underneath it, and anti-radiation and general medical supplies, it’ll be a lot more doable,” Nora mused, eyes widening and looking between Rowdy and Cait. “I have to let Nick know. He’s the one taking me…we’re planning –”

“The question is, though, do you have access to any power armour?” Rowdy said, reaching for some more fries. “Because I can help you soup it up, but we need a suit first.”

“I…I do, actually,” Nora said, managing a smile when Rowdy pumped her fists in excitement. “When I…the Minutemen and I found a suit in Concord, one we brought back to Sanctuary Hills after it was safe to do so. I’ll have to ask them to bring the suit with them the next time I see them.”

“I’ll do some work on it for you, then,” Rowdy said, jovially elbowing her. “If the Minutemen want to do some of their own, then they can have at it, but I’ve been dying to get my hands on another suit of power armour to fix up.”

“Sounds like a riot,” Cait said, smirking when Rowdy munched down on the fries in her hands. “You keep taking me food, I’m going to take yours one day.”

Rowdy grinned. “Have at it.”

“You two are a mess,” Nora laughed a little behind her hands. “I appreciate it. Really…you two are great. I’m glad to have you around.”

“Trust me, Nora,” Cait said with a flirtatious smile. “I’d be crazy to not love having you around too, pretty baby.”

Nora flushed, her pale skin blooming pink. “I…” She flustered. “Sweet of you, really, it’s…”

Why does she make me feel so warm, and why do I want to go around the table to curl up next to her?

Goodneighbour
September the 11th, 2288
21:10

Catching his son before he tried to go dumpster diving, Robert Joseph MacCready couldn’t help but laugh when he lifted the five year old up and into his arms, his son grinning the whole time.

After years of worrying the day Duncan would be able to run around again would never come, seeing him happy, energetic, and even a little mischievous was more of a relief than he could ever put into words. Shaking out his messy, shoulder length hair, Duncan reached up to grab his father’s hat, tugging it off and setting it onto his own head. Keeping one hand on the hat and the other wrapping his free arm around his father, Duncan curled up against his father, yawning while they walked back to their apartment. Turning the corner and towards Daisy’s shop, above which they lived, MacCready hummed to himself, shifting to keep his son secure in his arms. Duncan happily babbled, playing with his father’s hat, still on his own head. Deciding he was wearing his father’s hat the way he wanted to, Duncan then reached up to ruffle and fluff up his dad’s hair, already messy and a bit matted from being under his hat all day. When they walked through the door into Daisy’s store, MacCready smiled when he saw Annette talking with Daisy. Duncan waved at her, and started giggling when his father turned a bit pink while asking Annette if she wanted to come up with them. She nodded and followed them up the stairs to the apartment, brushing her near knee length, stick straight, thin hair over her shoulder, neatly braided. The second he was back on his feet on the floor, his father unlocking and opening the door to the apartment, Duncan hugged his father, then Annette, startling her, before skipping into the apartment and down the hall to his room.

After seeing him happily turn the corner towards his room, MacCready turned to Annette, holding the door open for her with a smile. She smiled faintly back, and stepped into the apartment, lingering near the door while he stepped in, too, before closing and locking the door again.

“You doing alright?” He said, taking off his jacket. “You seemed out of it earlier.”

“I probably was,” Annette said, looking down at her feet in shame. “I’m sorry, Bobby. I didn’t mean to worry you.”

“Hey,” MacCready said, gently cupping her cheek. “Don’t apologise. You’re allowed to feel things.”

She sighed. “It’s often easier to pretend not to, and I haven’t…it’s been a long time since I haven’t tried to remain detached, even a bit…cold or haughty with nearly everyone.”

“I feel that more than I’d like to,” MacCready said, his hand falling to her shoulder. “Netta, is –”

“I hate this day,” She said quietly. “There are a handful of days every year I hate, but there’s no day of the year I detest more than damned September the 11th.”

MacCready hesitated. “Do you…” He slowly said, stepping over to and sitting down on the couch, her sitting down beside him no more than a few seconds after him. “Do you want to talk about it?”

“It’s not pretty,” She cautioned him, glancing between him and her hands for a minute. “It’s been ten years,” She finally said. “Since my father died, that is.”

MacCready stared at her, taken aback. “You two were pretty close, weren’t you?” He said. “From what you’ve told me, anyways.”

“We were. He was the one who taught me much of what I know about medicine, and he was the only parent I ever knew. My mother died shortly after I was born. She was severely…severely anorexic,” Annette softly spoke, blinking back tears. “Without her, my entire life, he was my rock. We fought sometimes – like all kids do with their parents – but were still close. I made the mistake of trusting the Brotherhood and signing their damned contract because I was desperate to reunite with him. They did find him, and we reunited while I was still bound to the Brotherhood and the Citadel.”

MacCready reached over, taking her hands in his. “I take it…” He paused, reassuringly squeezing her hands. “I take it didn’t last long?”

“He died less than a year after I finally was able to see him again. He was murdered,” Annette’s voice darkened, her hands trembling. “By one of the Enclave’s leaders. Colonel Augustus Autumn. He was trying to take control of the water purification project the Brotherhood put me, dad, and Dr. Li on. After killing one of the scientists on Dr. Li’s team, he approached dad, snatched him by the collar of his shirt, holding a gun to his head asking if he believed in God. Dad said yes. And Autumn shot him dead.”

“What?” MacCready said, horrified when she nodded. “And you…you had to see it?”

“Me, Dr. Li, and a few others,” Annette bitterly replied, biting back more tears, almost embarrassed by herself. “And, a few weeks later, I found out the Brotherhood hadn’t taken the security risks seriously, knew the Enclave might be able to breach the facility, and did nothing. They could have prevented all of it, and they didn’t.”

“Annette, I’m so…” MacCready shifted to hold her loosely in his arms when she broke down sobbing. “I shouldn’t have asked,” He eventually said, letting her sob into his chest. “What he did to your father is…it’s f*cking atrocious.”

“Never heard you use that word before,” She weakly got out. “I thought –”

“There’s not another word to describe it,” MacCready gently put in, trying to keep her steady. “And knowing the Brotherhood could have made sure it never would have happened? It’s the only word for it. Is there…anything I can do to try and make you feel better?”

“I don’t know,” Annette said, abashed. “How…” She stumbled over her words, trying to calm herself, her skin flushing pink rather than its usual milky paleness. “I think Duncan said, a few days ago, you’re going to teach him how to shoot soon. He seems excited.”

MacCready laughed, a little, smiling a bit when he saw he had made her smile. “What?” He half teasingly said. “He tell you something hard to believe?”

“No, I…” Annette said, brushing aside tears when she looked at him, nearly dropping her glasses when she pulled them out to put them on, hoping they would help clear her vision. “I like your laugh,” She said with a weak smile.

“Good to know, then,” MacCready said, affectionately kissing her cheek. “I think I’m looking forward to teaching him how to shoot even more than he’s looking forward to learning. I’m going to start him off small, though. Have to keep reminding myself he’s only five and…not me.”

Annette raised an eyebrow. “Alright, then. When did you start learning to shoot?”

“Picked up a sniper rifle when I was ten and I never looked back,” MacCready said with a wink. “I’ve learnt how to use other types of guns since, but I’ve always felt most comfortable with a sniper. Probably because I’m completely self taught and because I’ve always thought it’s smarter to hit my targets at long range rather than take chances. No one questioned my authority as mayor after I got good at shooting. Not sure who took over after I left but hopefully things are alright there, now. I left a year earlier than I had to, actually.”

“You did?” She said, surprised. “Things get too difficult?”

“No, it was actually for a good reason,” MacCready said, going quiet for a minute. “Duncan’s mother, Lucy, was a year older than me. Kind of the town’s medic. When she had to leave at sixteen, I left with her. Never left her side after we left, not until…well, not until she was killed.”

“You loved her desperately,” Annette softly surmised. “I felt the same towards Amata.”

“Hard to forget your first love,” MacCready quietly agreed, glancing at her and seeing her fidgeting with a ring she was rolling back and forth in the palms of her hands. “I’ll never forget the day she told me she was pregnant with Duncan. It was shortly before we got married. I was seventeen, she was eighteen, and…things were great. Happy. Even more so after he was born. Probably wouldn’t have been if I’d told her what I had started doing for a living, and…and I’m not sure I did the right thing never telling her. Heck, I’m not even sure how I’m going to explain it to Duncan.”

“I can only imagine,” She said, staring at the ring. “I was going to wear this after marrying Amata,” She said when she realised he was eyeing her curiously. “It’s all I have of my mother. And makes me wish I were better. As a person, as –”

“Neither of us are who we were then. Not you when you were with Amata, and not me when I was with Lucy,” MacCready said, curling her hand over the ring. “Whether it’s for better or worse, it’s true. And you know something? Learning to be alright like this, doing whatever I can for Duncan, has reminded me to not hold onto things I can’t control. Letting control go feels awful, at first…but, so far, it’s been more than worth it.”

The Institute
September the 16th, 2288
18:41

“Dr. Li? Dr. Filmore? I think I found something you’ll be interested in.”

A little nervously, Dr. Rosalind Orman, a tablet in one hand and a thin file in the other, poked her head into the office of Dr. Madison Li who, to her surprise, waved her in. Closing the door behind her, Rosalind awkwardly waved at Dr. Allison Filmore and Dr. Evan Watson. Bobbing back and forth on her toes for a minute, Rosalind tried to keep herself calm, handing the file to Madison, who raised an eyebrow but took it nonetheless. If I’m wrong and this won’t be able to help with getting Phase Three ahead of schedule, I’m going to be so embarrassed, and Dr. Watson will probably lecture me for wasting their time, for… Realising they were all staring at her, Rosalind took a small step back, and, remembering she had it, began to pull up additional information on her tablet. Looking back at the file, Madison sighed, and began paging through it. When she found it was, much to her surprise, largely pre-War records, she paused, glancing between the file and the still anxious Rosalind before handing the file to Allie. Just as surprised, she flipped past the first few pages before pausing on copies of a set of reactor design schematics.

“Where did you find these?” Allie said, looking up at the young woman in surprise. “Even I didn’t know Mass Fusion had been working on something so advanced.”

“I went digging through the records of pre-War nuclear projects, after hearing Phase Three had been bumped up to top priority a few weeks ago, just like Dr. Watson asked me to!” Rosalind said, trying to hide her excitement. “I almost couldn’t believe it, but I’ve checked over and over again. It looks like Mass Fusion really did come close to or just barely completed an experimental reactor project we could adapt parts of for Phase Three!”

“Given the objective of Phase Three is to activate the new and, hopefully, improved fusion reactor to take strain off of our current, primary fusion reactor…” Evan trailed off in thought, glimpsing at the schematics. “The first concern I have with this, however, is the use of beryllium. It’s far from the most dangerous or even the most toxic element, but the toxicity of the element is still a concern, as I don't trust a pre-War company to have handled and stored it safely and without contamination.”

“Retrieving a beryllium agitator would be incredibly risky, not because of the beryllium itself but because we have no idea of what its condition is in the reactor it was made for and, presumably, still in,” Madison said, taking the file from Allie and setting it down on her desk. “At the same time, if we are able to retrieve it, adjusting the current, experimental, secondary reactor to work with it could push Phase Three through to completion quicker.”

“How long would it take for Advanced Systems to adjust the current secondary reactor if we were able to retrieve this?” Allie said, taking out her tablet to start jotting down notes. “Provided it’s still there and not in the possession of the Brotherhood, of course.”

“Until we have it and are able to study it, I have no idea,” Madison paused, reaching for a pen on her desk and circling part of the reactor on the schematics. “This looks similar to what we’ve already built, which was similar enough to the current, primary reactor. If I were to guess, I’d say it would only take a few months at most to make adjustments but being able to do so hinges on retrieving this agitator in the first place.”

“A beryllium agitator could, for lack of a better phrase, ‘jump start’ our secondary nuclear reactor,” Evan mildly commented. “Given its structuring.”

“Not to mention, since one of beryllium’s properties is being a nuclear reflector, it’ll more evenly distribute neutrons! And it’s got the fantastic property where, when the alpha particles produced in a nuclear reaction hit the beryllium, they cause it to emit neutrons, neutrons which will help fuel the reaction when they hit the unstable atoms in the nuclear reactions!” Rosalind bubbly added in, unable to hide her excitement any longer. “It also has got a high melting point which makes it useful in nuclear work to begin with, can slow fast neutrons, and –”

“Rosalind, we know,” Madison said, raising a hand to silence her. “Please, calm down.”

“Sorry!” She exclaimed, nervously bobbing back and forth on her feet again. “It’s just, the more I’ve thought about it, and the possibilities, I really hoped – I mean, really thought – I might have found something useful!”

“In abject seriousness, you have,” Evan told her, watching her as she slowly calmed down. “I certainly wouldn’t have had the time to go through all of the information I allotted myself to get through at nearly the speed you have. Hence why I asked you to take a look through. The fact you were able to find anything of potential use is good.”

“If there’s anything else I can do, I’m happy to help,” Rosalind took a deep breath and hesitantly smiled, wringing her hands together, in and out, behind her back. “I know this is all incredibly important.”

“It is. Either Allie or I will let you know if you’re needed,” Madison said, sending her a pointed look. “For now, get back to your usual work. You’ve done more than enough for now.”

Still a bit antsy, Rosalind nodded and quickly left the office of Advanced Systems’ Division Head. Shortly after the doors shut behind her, seeing a new notification on his tablet, Evan soon left the room, too, muttering to himself about needing to lecture some of the younger members of the Division, some of them, likely, year tens and elevens. Stepping around from behind her desk, Madison took her ID out from in her pocket and swiped it to close off access to her office again. Between Rosalind and Jacqueline alone, there’s more than enough eagerness and anxiety to go around. I’ll have to go over their report from this week again. They said they were nearing completion on one of their projects, so, hopefully… Slipping her ID back into her pocket, Madison returned to her desk, where Allie was flipping through some of the additional information attached to the schematics. Humming lightly to herself, Allie picked up a few key pages and set them onto the scanner in the other corner of the room. When they uploaded to the Institute’s internal network, she loaded them onto her tablet and gave the physical copies back to Madison, who took down another few notes on the pages before, finally, looking up from the file again.

“This is going to be a nightmare to plan for, but, from at least a cursory glance, the benefits of retrieving the device would outweigh the costs, even if it can’t be implemented into the secondary reactor,” She said, letting out a tired sigh. “How we’re going to justify even proposing retrieving it, however, is a separate issue.”

“Once we have a better handle on the information, drafting up a plan to retrieve it and proposing doing so will be easier,” Allie replied, zooming in on one of the design schematics on her tablet. “Considering how badly recent…events have upset our timetable, and with getting the reactor online being our number one priority, it shouldn’t be too difficult to convince the rest of the Directorate to authorise a retrieval. They know as well as we do the secondary reactor needs to running, well, yesterday.”

“And we certainly don’t want the Brotherhood – assuming they know about it, which I hope they don’t – to get it before we do,” Madison frowned. “I’ll have to ask Dr. Secord to send watchers to the area of Mass Fusion. Did I read the top of the file correctly? About the experimental Mass Fusion reactor and its beryllium agitator being in the sublevels of the Mass Fusion Global Headquarters?”

“Yes,” Allie confirmed, looking up from the schematics. “As I said, we need to get a better handle on all of the information available about the agitator and Mass Fusion’s experimental reactor, but they are noted as being in the sublevels.”

“With some luck, then, we’ll figure out the details of a retrieval plan more quickly with the location narrowed down,” Madison said, glancing between her and the file. “Ideally, I’d like to have a decent understanding of what we’ll be working with, too, but, so long as we’ll be able to make a safe retrieval of the agitator from Mass Fusion’s experimental reactor, the details of the agitator’s implementation can wait.”

“Absolutely,” Allie agreed, writing down a few notes before saving the documents and putting her tablet into sleep mode. “I suppose it’s a good thing Nathan is taking most nights off to take care of Lily. I hate to put more on him, but there’s almost too much needing to be done in Facilities, especially now.”

“Though not quite the same, I’m in a similar position,” Madison said, setting the file aside. “You’d think the amount of progress we’ve made in the last few weeks would ease things, but it hasn’t.”

Allie tiredly nodded. “You’re right, it hasn’t,” She said wearily. “It really hasn’t.”

Chapter 28: Something Near

Chapter Text

Diamond City
September the 21st, 2288
10:01

For unit designation CW-928, unit model ‘Mister Handy,’ better known as Codsworth, seeing the woman of his family again, for the first time since she had first returned to Diamond City, made him happy. Her demeanour, however, concerned him.

Rarely had Codsworth known Nora Jacqueline Norwich to be anything but a compassionate if not calm presence. Even in the lows before and after the birth of her and, her husband, Nathaniel Jonathan Norwich’s son, she had never been so strained. So few were even times he had seen her cry or lose her temper, and, as such, seeing her looking sick, rung out, and utterly deflated was quite the shock. In some ways, he tried to find the right word, she seemed to be becoming despondent. Her eyes were tired, dark circles around them, and her body looked just as rung out, as though she were dragging herself through the motions of life rather than living. Lack of sleep. Miss Nora, please rest up. You look as you did after all those long days in court. Hearing the exhaustion in her voice was what truly concerned him, however, and he only felt a little better when he saw her perk up, even a little, when she began talking with Cait, soon joined by Preston. Satisfied when she seemed to, slowly, cheer up a little, Codsworth lingered, enjoying the conversation among the three, all sat comfortably at a table outside the Dugout Inn. The day was still warm, the chill of winter not yet set in, but, never having found a better remedy, he kept brewing and pouring the three of them tea.

The faint smile taking over Nora’s face when Cait tried to appear perfectly ladylike brought him hope for things returning to the way they had been before, as much as possible, once Shaun was returned to her.

“Rowdy and the Cats really know their stuff,” Preston said, setting down his tea. “It’s a shame she had to leave so soon, but it’ll be good to have her help in getting that suit of power armour in full commission. And with Derek and Sturges working on it with her? It’ll come together pretty quick, I think, once we can get the ball moving on the work.”

“Mister Sturges has already headed back to Sanctuary to bring the suit down, hasn’t he?” Codsworth waited until Preston, to his relief, nodded. “How long should it take before he returns with it?”

“Not too long, and it definitely won’t be longer than a week or two,” Preston replied. “He said he’s going to check in on a few settlements on the way back and is hoping doing so will also give him a good handle of what the suit is currently capable of.”

“As long as it gets here eventually, he can take as much time as he needs,” Nora paused, keeping her hands tightly around her warm cup of tea. “There’s a plan, now. Better than it was just a week ago, and much better than it was before we figured out what was in Kellogg’s head.”

“Sounds to me Amari worked some magic,” Preston said, smiling when Nora laughed. “I’m pretty far removed from being a scientist, so what she was able to do seems like magic to me.”

“Might as well be,” Cait half jokingly said. “The way Nicky tried to explain it made me head spin. All I took away from it was Kellogg was an even bigger piece of sh*te than we already knew.”

“Guess it makes sense he really didn’t want anybody tracking him down,” Preston looked to Nora. “I can believe it – can’t run from the truth – but the things he did…they’re chilling from what you’ve told me.”

“Chilling is putting it lightly,” Nora said. “I try not to think too much about what else he might have done for the Institute other than what he did to me and my family.”

“Probably for the best,” Preston sombrely agreed. “Even if the lowest thing he ever did was what he did to you and your family, there’s a whole lot of evil left for him to latch onto and enjoy.”

“The fact anyone could enjoy doing what he did is…” Nora shook her head, her hands tightening around the cup of tea in her hands while she finished what remained of it before continuing. “Among the many cases I saw either during law school or the...short time after where I was a practising lawyer, one that came to mind after...seeing some of what he's done was one I had been set to prosecute shortly before I went on maternity leave, though it ended up not going to trial and I was given leave a few weeks early. There was a…the media called her the ‘Sister Slicer.’ She was ultimately sentenced to life in a mental institution after being evaluated at Parsons State Insane Asylum, pleading out. What she did was brutal. She killed six of her sorority sisters for fun. I’m not going to get into the details because, genuinely, what she did to them was inhuman, but her? And her case? It’s one of the few things I can think of anywhere near Kellogg’s level of brutality and sick pleasure in hurting people.”

“Sounds like a raider in the works,” Cait said, unnerved. “Think the War really just gave people an excuse to show their true colours.”

“It did,” Nora set down her finished tea and stood up, slipping her jacket back on from where she had left it hanging precariously over the back of the chair. “So. Does anyone want to come with me and tell Nick about the progress on…how we’re going to get me in and out of hell alive?”

“I’ll take care of these for you, Miss Nora, and take them back to your room,” Codsworth said as reassuringly as he could. “If you need anything – even just to talk – I’m happy to lend the proverbial ear, as it were.”

Nora smiled. “Thanks, Codsworth. I’ll see you later.”

Waving at her and then, Cait, and, last, Preston, Codsworth began to clear and put away the light breakfast he was relieved to note had been almost entirely eaten by all three parties present. Whistling to himself, Preston picked up his laser musket from where it had been resting against his chair and threw his bag over one of his shoulders before slinging his musket over the other. Cait winked at him and stretched her arms out. A few seconds later and she was off, no more than a few paces behind Nora who jumped, a bit, when the sound of distant thunder rang out. Swinging an arm around her, Cait faintly smiled at Preston, looking back at him when she felt Nora relax a little bit to her embrace. Relieved to see any tension leave his friend, Preston gave the former cage fighter a short, approving nod. Expecting a bit of a walk across the city, Preston stopped short in surprise upon seeing the private eye already in the largest of Diamond City’s plazas, speaking with his secretary whom, herself, seemed to be rather frassled. The first of a few raindrops beginning to fall, he made his way across the plaza as quickly as possible, getting under one of the few, completely covered spots, where Nora and Cait had already joined the detective and his secretary.

“Long morning?” He said with a polite tip of his hat towards Ellie. “You need anything?”

“Me? No, I’m fine, there’s…” She turned to Nick. “I think this is more your purview than mine.”

“It is,” Nick said grimly. “Missing person, this time a runaway, most likely. Case is a mess though, and I can’t take it right now. Nora and I have the Institute to go after, and our lead is in the opposite direction of where the girl most likely ran off to. My old friend Kenji’s daughter stole a boat in the middle of the night and went out, he and his wife are pretty sure, to Far Harbour, for God knows what reason.”

“Far Harbour?” Preston repeated, taking a step back, his chest constricting. “Their daughter went…she went there? Why?”

“They don’t know,” Nick said, shaking his head. “Hence why they asked me to take a look at the case, find her. Trouble is, with everything –”

“Do you need someone to go in your stead?” Preston went silent, startled by himself. Maybe it’s time to go back. I’ve been running long enough, over a decade, almost… “A missing girl is important, and I…I know the area well.”

“You do?” Nora said, surprised. “Is it in the Commonwealth?”

“Not the Commonwealth proper. Hell, some people wouldn’t even consider it part of the Commonwealth,” Preston said, shoving his hands into his pockets. “I think it used to be called Bar Harbour before the War, but, my entire life, we just called it ‘the Island’ or ‘the Harbour’ or ‘Far Harbour.’ Not many people came up our ways, and those who did usually weren’t…weren’t people we wanted there.”

“Bar Harbour? Maine?” Nora paused. “That’s almost three hundred miles away. How’d you end up here? I can’t imagine it was easy.”

“I got on a boat, think I was kicked off somewhere around Salem, and made my way to Diamond City from there,” Preston said, trying to ease the tension growing in his shoulders. “I’d heard there were some Minutemen there, and I was right. Joined up and have been serving ever since. I was twenty one at the time…didn’t have anything to stay there for, so I left to find purpose, and I did.”

“Damn good of you,” Nick said, though his voice quickly turned solemn. “Thing is, I’m not entirely sure how anyone could convince a runaway teenager to go home. She’s nineteen, so barely still a teenager, but she’s still incredibly young and, from what I know, has never left home until now.”

“sh*te,” Cait said with a frown which suddenly shifted to disbelief. “Hadley Anne Branson!” She said, puffing up her chest and storming towards the woman who startled. “What is that?”

“Cait!” She anxiously exclaimed, pushing her hands out in front of her to gently tell the former cage fighter to step back. Catching her breath, she took a look back towards the stairs to the upper stands before, seeing Preston, walking over towards him, Nick, Ellie, and Nora. “Cait,” She said, walking beside her. “Can I go to get a few things at the market without getting jumped?”

“Wasn’t trying to jump you,” Cait said, lightly tapping her left hand. “More so want to know what you’re doing with that after all the lectures you’ve given me.”

“What do –” Hadley cut herself off when she realised she still had a lit cigarette in her left hand. “Cait, I really don’t want to discuss this.”

“Discuss what?” Preston raised an eyebrow when Cait lightly elbowed her the moment they were in close reach. “Since when do you smoke?”

“I’m tired of having to…” Hadley quieted again and took a draw on her cig. “Congratulations. I’m a hypocrite.”

“Why are you a hypocrite?”

Hadley yelped, stumbling back when she turned around and fumbling to put out her cigarette. Nora and Ellie eyed her worriedly. Cait seemed content to take in the chaos. Preston and Nick shared a confused look only for all confusion to leave them when they saw the girl who had spoken innocently standing in front of them.

“Don’t worry about it, Ada,” Hadley said, setting her (now free) hands to her daughter’s shoulders. “What are you doing? Aren’t you supposed to be studying?”

Ada shrugged. “I am but I got bored. What are you guys talking about?”

“A missing person,” Cait said, blowing her bangs out of her face. “Nineteen year old girl got – I’m betting – pissed at her parents and took off for Far Harbour.”

“Far Harbour?” Ada said, her face lighting up. “Are you going there?”

“I’ve got to stay here for this beautiful lassie,” Cait said, winking at Nora who smiled back. “And Nicky’s got a pretty full schedule.”

“If you’re willing to send me instead of yourself, Nick, I’ll go,” Preston told him, his chest constricting again as the words left him. “It’s the right thing to do.”

“I’m happy to go as well,” Ellie said with a nod towards Preston. “I’ve only met Kenji once, but he’s a good man. His daughter being gone, even if it’s of her own volition, is something he needs answers to.”

“What needs to happen is she needs to come home,” Nick grimly replied. “Either Kenji and Rei go to her, or she goes back to them. She’s not going to do well on her own for long.”

“And you said she’s nineteen?” Ada eagerly pressed. “I’m seventeen! Think I might be able to convince her to come home?”

“Ada,” Hadley gently chided. “Far Harbour is –”

“I want to help, mom! And I’d be with Preston!” Ada stubbornly said. “He wouldn’t let anything bad happen to me! You have to let me see beyond Diamond City at some point, mom! All I’ve ever known is grandma and grandpa’s home, and then Rivet City, and now Diamond City!”

“On my life and honour, I’d keep her safe,” Preston said when Hadley went quiet. “If you let her go.”

Hadley frowned, looking between her daughter, him, Ellie, and Nick.

“We will discuss this with your father,” She finally pointedly told her daughter. “For now? Only maybe.”

Ada grinned. “I’ll convince you,” She said. “Just you wait.”

Atom Cats Garage
September the 30th, 2288
14:27

“You’re going to be f*cking pissed! Get the claws out, Cats, I repeat, get the claws out!”

So angry she could spit, Rowdy, unsurprisingly, did so, perfectly shooting it into the bucket nearest one of their power armour stations, kicking the nearest radio to her in the process. Roxy, more restrained but equally disgusted, crushed what remained of her joint with her heels, and began swearing to herself under her breath in Russian. Even Zeke took off his sunglasses. Hitting the radio in the bar a few times with a tuning fork to see if it made the signal clearer (it didn’t), Johnny D ripped the communicator from the wall and sent back an affirmative, repeating it a few times when the response remained garbled and warped. Next to take the communicator was Zeke, ordering the others over the radio to pull in before shouting for Rowdy and Roxy to come into the bar, Roxy coming in first through the back door, having only briefly stepped out to have a joint, well aware of Johnny’s discomfort with the smell. A few minutes later came Rowdy, preceded by her assault on the radio in the main garage and then soon after preceded by her combat boots slamming into the ground, more and more aggressive with each step. When she entered the bar, she did so with a look of dark, cold fury, and all but punched the door instead of pushing it to step in. Crossing her arms, she waited for more and, after a few minutes of static, the signal cleared again and Johnny, looking a bit too proud, began twirling his tuning fork in between his fingers.

“We’ll be pulling back by tomorrow at the latest, boss!” Bluejay’s voice crackled through the radio. “We can’t let the Brotherhood take our sweet digs, but the airport schtick is up. This is way more important.”

“What the f*ck happened?” Rowdy snatched the communicator from Zeke before he could even start to respond. “The Brotherhood didn’t take out one of our own, did they?”

“No Cats have been harmed by ‘em,” Bluejay said, his voice cutting out in the middle of a series of swears. “But they’re going too damn far, now,” His voice said, coming through a bit clearer. “The ‘Proctor’ asshole with the funny accent and condescending tone? The one who told us the f*cking coordinates of the airport? Man is having some of the other Brotherhood rags go and head towards the Warwick family’s farm!”

“What?” Johnny exclaimed, anger shaking his voice when Rowdy held the communicator up for him. “I don’t get it. The hell do they want with the Warwick family?”

“They ain’t going to drag themselves through a bunch of sh*t for no reason,” Rowdy irritably added. “What are they after? They doing too many chems and are starting to think June is a synth because she’s nicer than pretty much anyone else on the damn planet?”

“Nope,” Bluejay’s mirthless laugh was almost a shout through the static. “They’re even more f*cking delusional than thinking any of the sweet little hearts there are synths. They’re going to be heading down to ‘ask’ for sh*t of ‘em.”

“They want to ask for sh*t?” Roxy said, snorting. “Then pick up a shovel and help the family. Start shovelling the sh*t, I’m sure they’d appreciate it. Pretty sure a few extra free hands on the farm wouldn't be a bad thing, especially with June and Roger barely cutting it even. I slipped Janey a couple hundred extra caps the other day she’s going to put into her family’s ledger. June ain’t going to question it when Janey gives her an explanation, which the girl is good at, and Roger won’t give a sh*t. Man’s had a real change of heart the last few years but his indifference to the ledger never f*cking changes.”

“Wish it were them being uncharacteristically selfless,” Bluejay said. “But no can do without lying to you. It ain’t a funny thing either. The Brotherhood nosebleeds are going to try and rob ‘em blind.”

“Wait, wait, wait!” Zeke snatched the communicator from Rowdy before she could even realise what was happening. “They going all in on acting like the power armour gang they are? Bluejay, you better not be pulling my leg or –"

“Not a chance, boss. If you mean they’re being a gang like the gunners, though, then they absolutely are acting like a power armour gang. And a sh*t one, too,” Bluejay’s voice crackled. “Seen a few of those gunner c*nts with power armour, but it’s barely better than the sh*t ones raiders play with. But it doesn’t matter what their digs are like. The Brotherhood ain’t hiding the fact they’re tyrants now, and you know why they’re tyrants and not just another bullsh*t gang? Because they’re more organised than raiders and gunners, and more motivated, too. They have a purpose, and it ain’t about a bottom line. Them nosebleeds want to control us in every way and control everyone.”

“They weren’t hiding any of that, but point taken,” Johnny said, rolling his eyes and taking a Nuka Cola out of the fridge. “I mean, we all saw the way they entered the Commonwealth. Thinking they’re saviours. Well, you know what? Maybe we’d rather have the Institute than them. At least the Institute doesn’t send their synths up to tell us all how they’re going to save all of us. They know they’re at odds with most of the people up here, and we know it too.”

“The Institute may be assholes but at least they’re honest about it,” Zeke agreed, swearing under his breath. “I can’t stand the Brotherhood’s attitude. Their leader described the Commonwealth as a bunch of fight clubs with a bit of civilisation blinking out from Diamond City. All they see and think of us as are a bunch of poor as piss pushovers. They can’t be more wrong.”

“They really can’t,” Roxy said, scoffing. “How come they can’t tell they’re not wanted? It’s because they assume and take and take. Guessing wanting to take and take is what they’re planning on doing to the Warwick family?”

“Pretty much,” Bluejay said, the sounds of gunshot ringing out behind his voice through the radio static. “I think our connexion is being f*cked with by them and their flying boat. But who knows what they’re capable of? They come in roaring with their boat but seem to be trying and failing to put a big ass robot back together on the runway of the old airport.”

Zeke laughed. “That what their stupid ladders are for? To make their little toy? Sounds to me they’re wasting their time. A robot needing as much space as they’re making for it will be stupid slow. What’s the point? To try and scare the Institute?”

“No f*cking clue,” Bluejay said, his voice still popping and creaking in and out. “I tried to sneak in, take a look at what they’re using some of the old hangars for, but all I found were a bunch of boxes labelling pieces of something called ‘Liberty Prime,’ whatever the f*ck a ‘Liberty Prime’ is. Sounds like a dumb talking head robot to me.”

“Peepers ain’t going to like it if a more powerful robot comes to town,” Rowdy said, taking out and lighting a cig with her new favourite lighter. “By the way, Blue, you need to teach me how to make them gun shaped lighters.”

“Once this sh*t gets handled, sure,” His voice came through. “But we need to get back to the brass tracks. The Brotherhood are saying they’re going to collect ‘donations’ and ‘requisitions’ from the Warwick family and their farm, basically robbing ‘em blind of their resources. Water, food, medicine…pretty sure they ain’t going to be particularly picky about what they f*cking plunder out of them. It’s disgusting.”

“No sh*t,” Zeke said, cranking up the volume on the radio communicator as high as it would go. “Come back in as soon as you can but don’t let the Brotherhood get their hands on anything of ours. Take as much as you can from them, too, and try to sabotage them. End of the day, though, the airport scrap – much as I hate to say it – is way less important than the lives and peace of mind of the Warwick family.”

“Are they already heading out or are they planning?” Johnny put in nearly the second Zeke stopped speaking. “Either way, we need to move quick so we can stand off against them and push them away from the Warwick family and their farm. f*ck them and their ‘Brotherhood’ and their supposed good intentions, they’re just as incapable of avoiding wanton greed as any other group in the world, including from before the War.”

Zeke snorted. “Pretty sure they have nukes like people did then too. Ain’t got proof – yet – but I’d put real money on them having them. We even told them so.”

“Yep,” Bluejay crackled through, drawing the word out. “And, so far, they're just planning. Probably going to take a jab at other settlements first, but I swear I heard 'em mention Warwick. Them at Warwick are going to need our help, so we should start preparing now. I mean, the Brotherhood flying in on that ugly hunk ‘o junk blimp or boat or whatever the hell they want to call it told us enough about their damned capabilities – which is they have way too many – but they were only f*cking with us at first, far as we know. I’d have been content to keep f*cking with them for fun but going after the Warwick family is just low and, if we don’t do something, they’re going to keep it up and keep going after other farms and smaller towns, even, I bet.”

“They have the resources,” Johnny said, taking Rowdy’s lighter and lighting his own cig. “Makes it stupider of them to not pay people fairly for what they want.”

“No kidding,” Roxy said, leaning back against the bar counter with a frown. “Blue!” She half yelled towards the communicator. “Try and catch them in a lie and record it. If we can have something to use against them later, throwing a lie back in their face would be a good one, and hard to dispute.”

“She’s got a point,” Zeke said, grimacing when Bluejay’s voice became too garbled to understand. “Can you try and repeat that, man?”

“Will do, boss,” Bluejay’s voice briefly broke through. “Be back soon.”

The radio static crackling back out, Zeke began swearing quietly, his hands messing up his otherwise neat and perfectly gelled hair. Just as worried, Roxy ran out of the room to start rummaging through the toolboxes and supplies already at hand, and Johnny scowled out the windows facing the airport in the distance, irritably puffing on a cig. More angry than anxious, however, was Rowdy, who quickly finished off and aggressively stomped on her cig to stub it out before smacking the radio with the back of her hands. When she relented it was with a frustrated sigh, and she shut the volume off to stop the increasingly aggravating static. The near silence was not much better. Afternoon sunlight pouring into the bar, Johnny all but snatched the blinds to lower them, looking annoyed by them before smiling a little at one of the formerly stray cats living in their garage. The grey tabby cat let out a content meow and began rubbing its head against his legs. Zeke waved at the cat, and even Rowdy, realising the cat was there, softened a little, only for her face to fall and the irritation return when the cat walked to the other side of the room and started lapping up some of its water.

“If we could make these little guys our army, the Brotherhood wouldn’t stand a chance,” Rowdy dryly remarked. “Because they’d either be distracted by them being adorable, or they’d get their eyes clawed out. Either one would be better than the Brotherhood feeling like they can do whatever they want.”

“They aren’t going to think that much longer. We’re going to make them see they can’t do whatever they want,” Zeke replied, his voice suddenly becoming unusually serious. “I’d be pissed if those nosebleeds went after any family, but them going after the Warwick family is f*cking personal. They’ve been helping us even since before their youngest kid was born!”

“They’re some of the realest people in the world,” Rowdy said, leaning back against the wall and crossing her arms. “But also too nice and, even if they weren’t, they probably still wouldn’t be able to fend these c*nts off on their own.”

“Which is why we’re going to help,” Zeke shook his head. “When we found this place over – what was it, at least fifteen years ago? The Warwick family have been here for us ever since. They helped us get on our feet, gave us food and a whole lot of other sh*t and didn’t even ask for nothing back. I know we don’t go around letting people know the Atom Cats have a heart or something, but the Brotherhood are about to find out they’ve f*cked with the wrong people.”

“And they’re going to hate it,” Johnny said with a sinister smile. “Hope the Brotherhood send some of their big wigs. I’d love to f*ck them up.”

Rowdy snickered. “Leave some for me.”

“There’s going to be more than enough for everyone,” Zeke said, his voice firm in resolution. “Because what they’re doing? It’s totally not rad.”

The Prydwen
October the 4th, 2288
9:14

For the entirety of Brotherhood upper leadership to be aligned on a subject was a rare occurrence and had been even rarer during the nearly fifty years of leadership by Elder Owyn Claude Lyons, the man whom Elder Arthur Jonathan Maxson considered to be his only true predecessor. Yet, while knowing they were completely and utterly aligned on any matter was rare, this was a crucial matter of life, death, and dignity. Thus, they all had agreed, it had to be dealt with swiftly.

What the Institute had done to Dr. Madison Li was appalling enough on its own, and what they had forced upon her and an innocent teenager made them, so far as Maxson was concerned, irredeemable. Action was now unavoidable.

Waiting for the arrival of the Paladin whose most trusted Scribe and Knight had obtained the evidence of Dr. Li and the girl the Institute forced her to steal, Lancer Captain Alexander Kells reviewed the reports the Paladin had submitted on the matter. The further down he read, the more surprised he found himself with the Institute for taking such a security risk. To his right sat Knight Captain Aaron Ronald Cade, whom himself was doing much of the same as the Lancer Captain, almost overwhelmed by the reports. It was Proctor Keith Skyler Teagan beside him, however, who was almost entirely unsurprised. From the start, I said the Institute are arrogant to the nth degree, and as such would be unafraid to be so out in the open. When he looked over towards the Elder at the other end of the table, the Proctor found himself relieved to, by posturing alone, know Maxson had, on some level, expected the same of the Institute. Cautious as ever, however, was Proctor Marshall Quinlan who, sat closest to the right of the Elder, was methodically examining each of the photographs and the information corresponding to them. Proctor Elisabeth Mischelle Ingram beside him, in her wheelchair rather than her power armour, impatiently awaited the arrival of the Paladin, and, when he entered the Prydwen’s command deck, pressed her lips into a thin line, taking a look at the time. Five minutes late.

“Apologies for the delay, Elder,” Paladin Danse said, standing at attention. “My vertibird had trouble starting this morning due to lack of maintenance at the police station. Rest assured, I will get the issue resolved promptly.”

“Understood, Paladin. At ease. Take your seat,” Maxson said, eyeing him closely as the Paladin sat down in the chair directly across from him at the other end of the table. “As you well know, we have called you to this meeting in order to discuss and gain further insight into the report you compiled from those of Scribe Haylen and Knight Rhys regarding the activities and movements of Dr. Madison Li.”

“Yes, sir,” Danse said cordially. “These were reports I had not anticipated receiving from Scribe Haylen and Knight Rhys, but they have provided us a solid starting point for commencing our efforts to bring Dr. Li back to the Brotherhood, where she belongs.”

“Precisely,” Quinlan said, setting down the photographs. “Dr. Li has no doubt been brainwashed by the Institute and needs to be removed from them not only for the sake of reviving Liberty Prime but for her own good. The same can be said of the girl she accompanies.”

“Hence why the retrieval of them will be difficult,” Cade noted. “Though not the only reason, of course. The Institute are themselves a legitimate threat, and we will have to prepare for retaliation. I am sure you are already aware of that, however, Paladin.”

“I am,” Danse responded with a short nod. “I warned Elder Maxson of a potential attack on the police station or, less likely, the airport and the Prydwen following our retrieval of Dr. Li and the girl the second I was given the information.”

“As is required,” Kells said. “Good. It is, after all, prescribed in the Codex to raise all immediate threats and information to the Elder.”

“Indeed,” Danse said, pausing in thought. “We will likely have to refamiliarise Dr. Li with the Codex, as well as the rules, expectations, and responsibilities of being one of the members of our Order.”

“Nearly a decade is quite a long time,” Quinlan frowned. “Another reason I suspect Dr. Li will be resistant to returning to us. When she departed, she was quite angry. I would be unsurprised to learn she still harbours some of those feelings, however misguided and incorrect they may be.”

“Regardless of the difficulties the process may raise, Dr. Li and her intimate knowledge of Liberty Prime cannot be left in the hands of the Institute,” Ingram said, irritated at the notion. “If they learn about our work to reconstruct Prime, I wouldn’t put it past them to use Dr. Li to find a way to halt our progress or, in the worst case scenario, destroy Prime entirely and beyond repair.”

“The complete destruction of Prime must be avoided at all costs,” Teagan said, shaking his head. “Prime isn’t going to be our secret weapon forever, but it will still be our most potent weapon, and one of the few we possess capable of taking on the Institute.”

“Another reason why my predecessors never should have permitted her to leave,” Maxson said, irritation lurking at the edge of his voice. “I think she assumed we would just walk away from it all, and her. She was sorely mistaken.”

“A shame, considering her intelligence on paper,” Teagan said. “But it doesn’t matter. What does matter is determining how we’re going to retrieve her and the girl, not just the fact we are going to do so.”

“There’s the million dollar question,” Cade remarked, his amusem*nt quickly leaving his countenance. “I, for one, don’t quite know where to begin with answering that particular question, not with all of the moving pieces we’ll have to contend with.”

“Half the battle is learning when she and the girl will be present at the town of University Point again. After we know that, it’ll become a little easier,” Ingram told him. “As for how we’ll retrieve them, the best way to avoid resistance from them would be to take them quietly and forcefully so as not to let on to the townspeople or, more worrisome, the Institute what we’re doing.”

“Having a few of our Brothers and Sisters take them, knock them unconscious using an inhalant, and then quickly get them onto a vertibird up to the Prydwen would be ideal, then,” Teagan mused. “I never would have thought of doing so on my own, Mischelle, but I imagine pulling it off would be more than feasible.”

“With the right people carrying it out?” Ingram faintly smirked. “Absolutely.”

“My only concern is she will refuse to cooperate,” Danse said, waiting to be stopped before continuing when he was not. “Not only is she likely confused about where her loyalties should lie, but she may be hostile to the manner of retrieval of her and the girl. She’s been under the Institute’s influence for almost a decade, which will make her something of an unknown quantity until we’ve managed to make her see things our way.”

“Yes, we’ll have to be careful,” Quinlan agreed, paging through the file on her. “Dr. Li also has, as you’re all well aware, a paper thin temper, at times.”

“If the Institute are able to continue controlling her, they may take advantage of her temper and use whatever misguided, hard feelings she may have towards our Order against us,” Teagan said, disgusted by the notion. “I could see Dr. Li, under their direct influence, being convinced to orchestrate an attack against us, even here at the airport. Getting her here and reminded of where her true loyalties should lie will be one matter, but ensuring she cannot return to the Institute will be another.”

“I don’t imagine Dr. Li will be particularly eager to return to the Institute after we rescue her and the girl, but I see your point, Proctor,” Maxson said, his voice a bit sharpish. “The worst possible outcome for us would be to retrieve her and then have her escape and officially become a traitor.”

“Hence why we’ll have to work quickly and leave her little to no room for resistance,” Danse shook his head. “She is the only person in the Commonwealth I can think of who could throw an irreversible wrench into our plans with Liberty Prime. She may not be the only one who could solve Prime’s power consumption and distribution issues – I’m sure, between Proctor Ingram, Proctor Quinlan, and a handful of Commonwealth scientists it could be done – but she is the only one familiar with all of Prime’s capacities who would be incentivised to hand information on them over to the enemy.”

“With that understood, then, we ought to decide who will do the retrieval of the good doctor and her protégé,” Kells said. “The sooner we are able to have that decided upon, the sooner we’ll be able to prepare them to carry out such a sensitive operation.”

“As Scribe Haylen and Knight Rhys have been keeping tabs on her for a while now, and were the ones who were able to confirm her making return trips to the town of University Point, I believe they are best equipped to do the retrieval,” Danse put in. “Once Dr. Li and the girl are rendered unconscious, I’ll be able to take them, Haylen, and Rhys back to the Prydwen by vertibird. It would more than likely take the Institute several hours to realise they were even missing, and thus we’ll have a decent amount of time to work with if we do this right.”

“If we give them the angle of being mere campers, too, transients, they’d be less likely to arouse the suspicions of anyone in the area, much less the townspeople,” Teagan noted. “We’d also, likely, gain better insight into the town’s activities and be able to prepare for how best to requisition what we need from them.”

“Taking the time to learn as much about the town as possible will also provide us with the opportunity to gain better insight into the depth and breadth of the Institute’s presence there,” Quinlan said mildly. “I, for one, think it’d be quite beneficial for us to know what kind of precautions – if any – the Institute takes there other than the use of their rather disturbing ‘synths.’”

“Haylen and Rhys found a surprising lack of synth activity in the town during this most recent operation,” Danse informed him. “This was quite shocking to them and to myself when I read the report, considering the Institute had quite the obvious presence there just a few months earlier, albeit with their ‘older’ models of synths. Finding no synths there recently was, to put it lightly, an extreme shock.”

“Sounds as though the Institute are recognising our might,” Kells said, almost amused. “As they should. If they’re becoming wary of making their presence known so boldly, I imagine it is because they have come to learn the Brotherhood possesses abilities either equal to or exceeding their own.”

“I concur, but only to a point,” Teagan said. “I doubt they have learnt we are equal to or greater than they are, but I don’t doubt their increasing hesitation is a result of knowing we are not going to leave the Commonwealth for dead and allow them to continue their reckless experimentation.”

“Time will be the deciding factor on that,” Maxson said, looking narrowly at Danse. “When do you propose sending Scribe Haylen and Knight Rhys back into the field for this, considering we do not yet know the frequency of these…visits to the town?”

“Towards the end of the month, so as to give them the chance to prepare,” Danse confidently replied. “It is my hope they will be able to, then, catch Dr. Li and the girl sometime during November or, in the worst case scenario, in December at the latest.”

“A reasonable time frame,” Quinlan said, taking a few notes. “I would advise you to inform them of such as soon as possible.”

Danse nodded shortly. “Affirmative, Proctor.”

“Ensure they return to the Prydwen for their routine medical examinations before they depart for this mission as well,” Cade told him. “They will need to be in good health in order to pull off such an operation, especially considering the quick turnaround they’ll have for this.”

“I’ll let them know as soon as I return to the police station,” Danse said. “They should report for those within no more than two weeks.”

“Fantastic,” Cade said. “Things should be able to progress on schedule for this endeavour, then.”

“Scribe Haylen and Knight Rhys are some of the best soldiers under my charge,” Danse said proudly. “I can assure you they will not disappoint the Brotherhood.”

“Being under your leadership, I am sure they will do exactly as ordered to,” Maxson said with a faint smile. “Between their loyalty and a bit of luck, then, we should be able to be successful in retrieving Dr. Li and the girl. This will prove to be a critical operation, and, I am sure, they will understand it to be such.”

The Institute
October the 11th, 2288
21:10

“This beryllium agitator could push Phase Three into completion even sooner than we had originally anticipated. As a result, after much consultation between Dr. Li and Dr. Watson, I believe an operation to retrieve it from the Mass Fusion experimental reactor to be not only prudent but necessary.”

Standing up and handing one copy of the retrieval plan to the Institute’s Director, Shaun Norwich, and another to his father, Nathaniel Norwich, Dr. Allison Filmore waited a minute to see how they reacted. To her relief, they both seemed, from a cursory glance, to approve of the objective and, tentatively, the plans necessary to see it through. Dr. Evan Watson, knowing his close colleague and friend quite well, skilfully masked his happiness, suspecting they would be given permission to plan and carry out the operation. More suspicious, Dr. Madison Li observed the two men closely with a hawkish look to her and began to find their relative silence discomforting. If Clayton is telling the truth – and, far as I can tell, he has no reason not to – then Shaun is still being evasive about the FEV lab despite all of us apart from Alana pressing him for an answer on the subject. Suspicions aside, if they did approve the operation, then it would, at the very least, prevent the Brotherhood from getting their hands on the agitator even if it ended up being positively useless to Phase Three. The longer they almost inaudibly discussed the proposal between themselves, she found it all the more difficult to hide her irritation. It was late enough, and, a plethora of work left to review, she was acutely aware it would be a long night, longer still should they be dragged along.

In some ways, she found it reminiscent of the way Lyons had kept things from her, and there were precious few things capable of irritating Dr. Madison Brianne Li more than being lied to.

“To think, all this time, Mass Fusion had been lying about how they generated power for the northeastern United States,” Nate said, quirking an eyebrow. “We truly were a society trapped in a snow globe, for lack of a better phrase. I always suspected we in the military were given only a fraction of the knowledge one could argue we ought to have, but I hadn’t expected a pre-War energy conglomerate to do the same, and not even to hide their trade secrets either.”

“They certainly didn’t do a great deal of what they purported to,” Evan mildly commented. “Their idea of safe handling and disposal of nuclear waste has created some of the most irradiated sites in what remains of the northeastern United States, apart from the so-called ‘Glowing Sea.’”

“Ah, yes, the ‘Glowing Sea,’” Nate said, his lips flattening into a thin line. “It’s a shame what happened to the world we – or, at least, I – knew. My wife’s family had lived about half an hour from where the bomb meant for Boston ended up hitting. My understanding is it ended up being a much lower yield nuclear device than the advanced, massive ICBMs the United States used in retaliation against China, but any nuclear detonation is, naturally, massively destructive. I only wish it had hit even farther south than Providence. I still am horrified by what the last moments of my wife’s family might have been.”

“I can only imagine,” Allie sympathetically said. “I’ve been fortunate enough to never have had to live topside, but Nathan spent the first seventeen years of his life there, before he was lucky enough to be rescued by the Institute. From what he’s told me, living up there is dreadful. We’ve always been careful to not discuss it in front of Quentin, and we’ll, now, be doing the same for Lily. Things topside seem to only get worse.”

“With the Brotherhood there, I’d certainly say things are getting worse on the surface,” Madison said, her arms crossed. “I certainly have no desire to bear first hand witness to the Brotherhood’s attempts to take control of the Commonwealth.”

“A point you made quite clear in this proposal,” Nate said, looking up at her. “I’m quite impressed by the way you, Dr. Filmore, and Dr. Watson have managed to pull together a proposal to retrieve such a delicate piece of pre-War technology, especially in the time frame you have. Speaking of, please give Dr. Orman our thanks for bringing this to your immediate attention. Making us aware of this as soon as possible, and with a cogent explanation as to why it would benefit us to claim it, has proven itself to be rather prudent.”

“Yes, it has,” Shaun said, looking through the proposal on a tablet. “I must say, I’m quite pleased by this development. I’ll keep this under wraps for now, as much of Phase Three has been, but the rest of the Directorate will be informed once the retrieval has been completed.”

Madison raised an eyebrow. “You’re approving the plan to retrieve the agitator?”

“I am,” Shaun replied. “It is a piece of technology we cannot risk falling into the hands of our enemies, the Brotherhood in particular. Even if it weren’t to end up in their possession, I find it hard to believe anyone on the surface would know how to do the retrieval without damaging the agitator.”

“Especially since the person managing the retrieval would have to know how to divert and manually turn off a complex nuclear reactor, one which had, at its time, been almost entirely experimental,” Nate added. “The fact this appears to have been, partially, a military project means it should be almost entirely unknown, in particular, to those on the surface.”

“A relief, I’ll say,” Evan noted. “The information we pulled suggests a test was done on the thirtieth of July, 2077 and testing continued through the twenty ninth of August, 2077, at which point the project was deemed a success. Of course, its actual success will have to be determined by us, but there is still some promise to it yet.”

“Well said, Dr. Watson,” Shaun turned to Allie. “Dr. Filmore, as you are the most experienced with handling such technology and have a great deal of knowledge on how to direct the operations of a variety of nuclear reactors, I am asking you lead the operation.”

“Alright,” She said with a short nod. “Am I correct to assume there will be, at the very least, first and second generation synth units to protect me?”

“Yes, and I will also be asking Dr. Orman and Dr. Thompson to accompany you,” Shaun said. “I am sure both of them will be happy to assist you, as I understand Dr. Orman has been curious about the surface for quite a long time and Dr. Thompson has worked closely with you and her husband on multiple occasions on our current, primary reactor.”

“I’m a bit surprised to hear you be so quick to authorise such an operation,” Madison said, her eyes narrow. “I’m glad to hear it, of course, as recovering the agitator before the Brotherhood can learn about or attempt to take it is important, but I thought you might take longer to deliberate the matter.”

“It is as you said, Dr. Li, dawdling on whether or not the agitator should be retrieved or not will only give the Brotherhood more opportunity to find and take it before we do,” Shaun said, annoyed at the thought. “I dislike resorting to the use of Commonwealth technology, but the advantages it could provide us, in this case, cannot be overlooked, certainly not with the Brotherhood’s presence here.”

“Hmm,” Madison eyed him closely before sighing. “How soon will this be done?”

“Ideally, I would like Dr. Filmore, Dr. Orman, and Dr. Thompson to leave for Mass Fusion as soon as possible, however, I understand they will need time to prepare,” Shaun paused in consideration. “As you have spent the most time above ground, Dr. Filmore, I assume you’re more than capable of preparing both Dr. Orman and Dr. Thompson for what you may see up there?”

“I am,” Allie confidently replied. “I’ll brief them on the operation tomorrow and begin planning for it by the end of the week. Though this is important, we unfortunately do still have a great deal of other work to be done.”

“Yes, I know,” Shaun said. “Still, do plan on retrieving the agitator by the beginning of December at the very latest. The Commonwealth, as I understand it, gets quite cold from September onwards, and we are already well into the midst of those seasonal changes.”

“Of course,” Allie replied. “Would it be correct to assume we’ll be relayed back to the Institute as soon as we have the agitator?”

“We will dispatch a Courser to meet you and your team in the lobby of the Mass Fusion Global Headquarters. It’ll arrive there shortly after you do,” Shaun assured her. “Once you and your team return to the lobby from retrieving the agitator and rendezvous with the Courser, the three of you will be relayed back to the Institute alongside the agitator.”

“Good,” Allie said, a bit of relief edging into her voice. “Any place above ground has its risks, and minimising those risks for us is going to be crucial. Do you have anything else you need from us at the moment?”

“No, I believe I have everything I need for now. Please let me know when you, Dr. Orman, and Dr. Thompson have finalised your plans to retrieve the agitator,” Shaun said, closely observing her sweep up her things and leave the room, Evan shortly after her. “Dr. Li,” He said when she began to collect her materials. “If you would please wait, I have a few things I need to let you know of.”

Madison raised an eyebrow, even more so when Nate went to ensure the doors shut and locked behind Allie and Evan.

“What’s this about?”

“Nothing you need to worry about,” Shaun calmly told her. “Merely an update on…your trips accompanying Miss Spencer to visit her father.”

“And?” Madison said, struggling to mask her impatience. “What of them?”

“With the Brotherhood Of Steel having had contact with the people of University Point, Miss Spencer’s next visit home is being pushed to happen towards the end of November or early into December, the first week of December, that is,” Shaun said. “Though I know she wanted to visit for Halloween, the situation is more volatile than I feel comfortable putting either of you into.”

“Has something happened?” Madison suspiciously pressed. “Did our intelligence indicate more activity by the Brotherhood?”

“No, but taking any unnecessary risks is something I’d like to avoid,” Shaun said, shaking his head. “So much as I wish there were another way, minimising the exposure either you or Miss Spencer have on the surface is the best way to ensure the Brotherhood remains in the dark to the fact you’re one of our scientists.”

“The Brotherhood know full well, when I left, I was heading towards the Commonwealth,” Madison scoffed. “If they don’t know I’ve been taken in by the Institute, they’re kidding themselves. I know they trailed me when I helped my – I suppose step daughter would be the best descriptor of our relationship – return to the Vault she spent most of her life in after suffering two years of abuse and complete loss of freedom by the Brotherhood. I’d believe it if they trailed me, even partially, to the Commonwealth.”

“Another reason to be cautious, then,” Nate said morosely. “I hope your step daughter is safe now.”

“I do as well,” Madison said, biting back tears. If something has happened to Annie, and I find out about it, there will be consequences for the one responsible for hurting her. She’s suffered enough. “Either way,” She eventually said. “I don’t see how keeping Jacqueline from visiting her father will keep me off their radar.”

“It’s simply a precaution,” Shaun quickly said. “For both your sake and Miss Spencer’s. I understand it will not be something she’ll be happy about, but the security and peace of mind for you both is the priority in this situation.”

“Gerald has also expressed severe anxiety about the Brotherhood returning to University Point,” Nate pointedly added. “He would like to see Miss Spencer, too, but understands the need for caution. I’m sure she, also, will understand.”

Madison frowned. “There’s something else you’re not telling me.”

“Dr. Li, please,” Shaun said tiredly. “Even if there is, you needn’t worry about it.”

“You saying so is exactly why I am,” Madison said. Damn it. How am I going to explain this to Jacq? “And you can’t hide it forever. I will find out. I always do.”

Diamond City
October the 19th, 2288
1:41

One year.

In less than a week, it would a full year since she had been released from cryostasis in Vault 111.

One year, after over two hundred and ten passing in the blink of an eye.

Those first few minutes after Vault-Tec’s systems malfunctioned and released her had never left her in dreams, but they grew all the more prominent in the months, weeks, and, now, days until she would be a year removed from her release. It was freedom. But it left too damn many questions, even more with every piece of the puzzle Kellogg created revealed. All she knew for certain was she was alive, Shaun and Nate had been taken, Nate had been killed in the ten some odd years between their being taken and her release, and everyone they had cared about, known, and loved were gone. Sitting on the edge of her bed in the Dugout Inn, now, she tried to calm her nerves, tried not to dwell on those first few minutes after Vault-Tec’s systems released her, only to find them inescapable. Hands shaking, she clasped them together, and, to her surprise, this time it worked. Slowly, too, she began to try to steady her breathing and, eventually, managed to do so as well. When she realised she was, physically, calm again, she closed her eyes, briefly, only for the memories to assault her again. First were the feelings she thought would never leave her when she had fallen out of the cryostasis pod and onto the floor of the Vault, and the sensation of being bitten by a radroach being what forced her to realise what had happened, forced to realise it was reality and not, as she had hoped, an awful nightmare.

Then, there were the faces and voices of everyone she had ever known.

When she learnt what had happened to him, Nora had been all but certain it would be his face and his voice which would haunt her most. It wasn’t. Shaun’s weren’t either. Yet, even knowing most of the first ten years of his life – from his first steps to his first words – had been taken from her, Shaun did not haunt her most, though the guilt of being unable to protect him gnawed away at her more and more each day. The face and boisterous voice of her best friend, Kate Leavitt, were not what haunted her most either, so much as it was painful knowing she never even met Shaun. Instead, the voice and face of her sister, who had died years and years before the War, were what stung the most, what left her feeling the most haunted. The gunshot, the one to kill her, had rang out through the house, and the sound was all too similar to the warning shot Kellogg had fired when he had taken Shaun and Nate. Maybe she’s why I have to go home, one last time. I visited her, where she’s been left to rest beside her best friend, and it still didn’t feel like enough. Maybe I have to go home for both of us. She tried not to dwell on the thought. Her sister’s death had been hard enough at the time and felt even worse knowing she was the only one of their siblings still alive.

Her older sister was dead. Their younger brothers were dead. Their parents were dead, and their grandparents and every other member of their family were, almost certainly, dead.

Memories of everyone now gone weren’t the only thing assaulting her, however. There were the sensations, too. Sights, smells, sounds, touches, tastes. The scent of chlorinated water and the ribbing and rippling and shimmying of the water over her skin nearly every morning in the largest indoor pool in her hometown of Plainville. The taste and scent of the salt and sand in the air and the grit of it in the water every time she got a chance to travel down to either Sandbridge in Virginia or Santa Monica in California to surf, whether for practise or competition. The crashing and roaring of the waves as they grew closer and closer before she pulled herself up onto and began competing atop her surfboard. The sight of the ground growing closer and closer as an aeroplane descended – a sight she had always feared would end in death, a plane crash. The way it felt the first time she had been able to hold her son in her arms, swaddled up and sleeping soundly. The sound of Shaun’s first laughs. The feeling of the warm water of the shower, her first shower after giving birth, one of the few times she had found herself preferring warm water to cold water.

Yet it was looking up at the mirror, across from where she was sat on the edge of the bed, which left Nora feeling what she wished she couldn’t, a reminder of what dreams left her feeling the most guilty about. With exhaustion clutching at her, she could have sworn, for just a second or two, her reflexion shifted back to how it had looked on every other morning, it seemed, before the War. She blinked, and she saw herself in the present again. Rosy skin, dark brown hair messily falling a few inches past her shoulders, tired, dull eyes, and the scar from the bottom of her ear to her cheek on the left side of her face. New scars having since healed all over her body, it almost meant nothing. Part of her hoped, even, she would be able to believe she had gotten it after the War. Tired. She shivered a little and pulled one of the blankets strewn about the bed behind her over and around herself. Trying to focus, unconsciousness beginning to slowly take her away from the night, Nora stared at her reflexion a little longer before, against her will, falling back onto the bed, and into sleep. Sleep. It had gotten easier to sleep than it had been before finding Kellogg, before knowing where Shaun had been taken. There were more nights where, when she’d wake in the morning, she slept almost as well as she had before the War. But those marred by and controlled by fear, nightmares, and vices remained.

They never got easier.

When she woke up again, she was screaming, her throat hurting worse than it ever had before, and a migraine scraping and punching its way through her skull. The first thing she realised after her screams dissipated was the fact she was not crying, but the second was the dream coming back into her mind, less foggy and much, much more conscious. It was her own voice which, in the dream, had reminded her of one of her other best friends before the War. Keira. Standing up so quickly she got dizzy and hazy dark spots briefly formed in her vision, Nora tried to calm herself, hoping doing something – anything – would let her avoid what the dream had reminded her of. It started to work. Pacing through the room, hands shakily raking through her hair and her sleep pants lightly dusting up against the floor, Nora eventually realised, with each step she took, her breathing was steadying, and her body was calming. When she finally felt calm and looked up at the mirror, she sighed, relieved it was over. The dream was over. The nightmare was over. Seeing the small clock plugged into the nightstand near the bed, Nora paused and, deciding it was too close to morning to warrant going back to sleep, began changing into her day clothes; jeans, a soft shirt, a long, heavy leather jacket, and resilient steel toed boots, one of the few practical forms of footwear left in the Commonwealth.

Looking back up at the mirror one last time before leaving the room, she meant to take a last look at herself to ensure she was ready for the day but her words from the dream were what came back to her.

Feeling sick at the memory, and not knowing what else to do, Nora swept up her gun, several rounds of ammunition, and a few caps, all of which she either dropped into her pockets or her gun holster. Going as quickly as she could out the door, not bothering to pull her hair up and out of her face, Nora tried to keep her movements calm and steady but, the second she was out the doors of the Dugout Inn, began to run. The first streaks of light on the horizon had yet to show themselves, but the streets of Diamond City were always lit, the massive city and its thousands upon thousands of residents always having something going on. None of the members of security paying her any mind, she kept running, beginning along an unfamiliar route but deciding it did not matter where she went so long as she were able to keep running. So she did. It took her by surprise when she realised it didn’t hurt like it used to when she ran, and so she kept going. She kept running.

The last words she had spoken to Keira still found a way to force themselves back into her mind.

“– I hope you’re happy with having ruined my life and career, Nora!”

“Maybe you should have thought of your life and career before you –”

“– I wanted this even more than you! I have people who need me to support them!”

“And I have my f*cking pride and dignity, which means a hell of a lot more to me than how much I wanted the damn job.”

“My…my dirty laundry never should have been aired out!”

“If you didn’t want it aired out, then you should’ve kept it to yourself or never done it in the first place.”

“So, you ruin my chances of ever being hired as a lawyer again because I told you about what I –”

“You tried to force me out of the running for a major position in a prominent law firm. At least I didn’t try to hide what I was doing.”

“A job means more to you than me? After all I’ve done for you, for everyone in –”

“Think you’re so much better than me, Keira?”

So much so much better than so much better so much better than me. The words almost felt screamed into her ears, her own voice yelling back at her. She couldn’t even remember what it was Keira had done, only remembering it didn’t matter what Keira had done so long as it would be able to push her past the last few barriers into the job she had and been preparing to return to the day of the War’s culmination. The other reason why she had done it was more impulsive, and she knew it was inescapable. If Keira had gotten the position instead of her, despite being younger and less qualified, then it would have been unacceptable to her. She kept running. Her words from then seemed to, slowly, grow further and further away until they began to feel hazy, too, hazy in the same way she had felt about the dream, at first. Rain beginning to fall, she let out a sigh of relief and began to slow her cadence to a lighter jog rather than a heavy, almost panicked run. Her nerves subsiding, she paused and closed her eyes, leaning back against one of the many buildings making up Diamond City. Her body began to feel less heavy, and her breathing began to steady out again. It was over. The dreams, the nightmares, and the life before the War’s end…they were all over. When she opened her eyes again, she startled, only to relax almost the second she saw Cait, who was looking at her from up on top of the low ends of the roof of one of the buildings. Smiling and waving, Cait hopped down and, then, leaned back against the wall beside the former lawyer.

“For someone who’s going to be trekking into hell, you seem pretty damn well,” Cait said half teasingly. “What are you doing out here?”

Nora laughed. “It’s barely morning, Cait. What are you doing out here?”

“Contemplating how crazy it is Preston and Nicky’s secretary are going up to his old town with Derek and Ada,” Cait said with a shrug. “Pretty sure the only reason Hadley’s letting her go is because Ada will be with Derek or Preston the whole time. Why the girl wants to go up to that damn town is beyond me, though.”

“Curiosity, I suppose,” Nora said, pausing in thought. “But I agree. Hadley’s only alright with that because her husband will be accompanying their daughter. Can’t say I blame her. I…I certainly didn’t trust many people with Shaun.”

Cait stared at the former lawyer, her face falling. “I…I can help you find him, you know,” She eventually said, surprising herself. “I know I keep saying it, but I’m serious. I will go with you and Nick to find this Institute son of a bitch and –”

“Are you out of your mind?” Nora snapped. “It’s been hard enough figuring out how the hell I’m going to get through this alive, let alone –”

Falling silent, startled by herself, Nora tried to calm herself when she saw Cait, just as caught off guard, was struggling to hide her own upset and hurt.

“I…I’m so sorry, Cait,” Nora finally got out, her voice wavering. “But it’s just not safe. The power armour was hard enough to get here, and making sure…it’s been a nightmare to try and figure out how best to modify it. And then there’s…if this town of sorts Nick says he knows is out there isn’t…if it’s gone, and the…the ‘Children Of Atom’ he says live there…if they aren’t there, then we won’t even have a damn person in there to ask about Virgil, to ask if –”

“Shush,” Cait sighed, and hesitantly embraced her. “You know something?” She said. “You have every reason to be angry at everything, at the world, but don’t let it make you push people away. I know the loneliness that causes…and, sh*te, it’s not worth it. It’s not worth it.”

Chapter 29: Something Far

Chapter Text

Far Harbour
October the 23rd, 2288
15:17

The fog had not changed.

His chest constricting and his shoulders squared and tense, Preston Garvey took in a few long, deep breaths and cut the motor to the boat, close enough to the dock to be able to safely tie off the boat. The water crashing against the sides of the vessel, it swayed side to side until, with the help of Derek Branson and Eleanor Perkins, the thickly braided ropes secured the boat from the cleats to the dock by the dock lines. After a few minutes of careful knotting and tying up, Preston let out a sigh of relief, the swaying of the boat largely ceasing once it was tied flush against the dock. The feeling of relief washed over him again when the nauseated feeling dissipated with the significant reduction in the boat’s back and forth, side to side, motions. Taking his bags up from where he had left them on the seat beside him hours before when they had departed from Salem, he pushed away the trepidation clinging to him, reminding himself of why they were there. The Nakano family need their daughter to come home. If we can help in any way, then we have to. Seeing Ada Branson shivering in the chill of the fog, Preston handed her the coat she had absentmindedly left on one of the seats in the boat’s co*ckpit. She gave him a grateful smile, pulled it on, and quickly scurried off the boat, swinging her backpack over her shoulders, to catch up to her father, already on the dock. With one last check around it, Preston finally stepped off the boat, his laser musket in his hands, and onto the dock of his hometown for the first time in over a decade.

It was almost the same as it had been when he had left, and the fog blanketing everything beyond the visible horizon was the same, too.

“No wonder Mister and Missus Nakano were terrified when they found out this is where their daughter had run off to,” Ellie said, taking out her notebook and writing down a few things for Nick to review later. “I’d be scared if my kid were out here alone, too.”

“The fog only gets worse past the town,” Preston warned her. “And the radiation it brings in is the least worrisome thing coming from the fog.”

Ada squeaked, tightly wrapping her coat around herself. “Then what’s…” She said, nervously chewing at her lips. “What’s the worst thing in the fog?”

“Honestly? I don’t think there’s one ‘worst’ thing in the fog,” Preston said, turning towards the stairs up to the dock proper. “Well? No point waiting around.”

With a brief look at Derek, Preston stepped aside to let him head up the stairs first, keeping one hand firmly on his daughter’s shoulders. He went up soon after them. Lingering on the dock, and checking one last time, paranoid, the ropes had been secured, Ellie looked around, taking down a few more notes. Soon enough, she closed the cover and tucked the notebook into the pocket of her skirt alongside its pen. Walking quickly to catch up to Preston, Derek, and Ada, the detective’s secretary moved almost silently on the tips of her toes in her well worn boots. She took a minute to simply stare after reaching the stairs and crossing the first few steps. The weather beaten wood, metal, bricks, and concrete were almost cosy, and the well lit buildings all over the dock seemed rather inviting. Breathing in the salted and misty air for the first time in what felt to be nearly forever, Preston closed his eyes and smiled faintly, only to lose any sense of serenity and happiness when he opened his eyes and remembered where they were. Ada, however, was non plussed by their surroundings, and she didn’t try to hide her excitement when she and her father stepped onto and into the dock proper no more than a few seconds before Preston. Much more cautious, Derek sent his daughter a pointed look when she turned to him, grinning, and let out a tired sigh when several people started towards them, one of whom was carrying a rather large and very much loaded gun.

“Well, well, well,” The man said, setting his gun down and resting it against his legs, glaring at Preston. “Look who came crawling back to his country roots.”

“Nice to see you, Allen,” Preston cordially replied with a tip of his hat. “Had to come back sooner or later. Some folks might even call it fate.”

Allen snorted. “Finally realised those Minutemen mainlanders were all a bunch of dumb fantasists?”

“Nope,” Preston said, a bit of pride swelling in his chest. “I’m leading the Minutemen, now.”

“So, a big hearted boy from the Harbour has earnt his keep?” A woman said with a cheeky smile. “Allen can run his mouth all he wants, but I’m glad to see you’re alright and doing good for yourself, Preston.”

“Could say the same to you, Olympia,” He said, laughing a little when she loosely embraced him. “Seems you’ve got things handled out here.”

“More or less,” She said with a motherly shake of his hands as she let him go. “What brings you back out here?”

“Good question, Captain,” Allen gruffly added, glowering at Derek and Ada. “Especially with ‘em well off looking mainlanders when we all know –”

“Allen, this isn’t your dock, it belongs to the whole town,” She cut in, raising a hand to silence him. “And, as such, strangers are welcome.”

“Sure,” He grumbled. “Sure they are.”

“So,” Olympia said, turning back to Preston. “I don’t imagine you’re here for some time off.”

“You’d be right,” Preston said grimly. “Wish it were better news, but we’re here looking for someone who went missing.”

“A young woman,” Ellie hesitantly added, just barely poking her head over Preston’s shoulders, her hands anxiously clasped behind her back. “From the Commonwealth, that is. Her name is Kasumi.”

Ada frowned. “Also, why do you need to know? We didn’t come all this way to be interrogated by the likes of –”

“Addison!” Derek chided, raising an eyebrow when she turned towards him, sulking. “You know better.”

“And, if my tone is short, it’s because of dealing with knuckleheads like Allen Lee,” Olympia sent the man in question a pointed look. “This is no interrogation. More like a welcome party. People don’t come to Far Harbour unless they have a damn good reason, and it might be I can help. In this case,” She looked back at Preston. “We did see a young woman, around nineteen or twenty, pass through here a little while back going by the name Kasumi. Can’t quite remember where she went after dropping in here, though.”

“She badgered Longfellow into taking her to Acadia. Nothing more, nothing less, Avery,” A second female voice said, coming over to them and dropping a few tools into her toolbelt. “As I live and breathe. Allen!” She adjusted her glasses and then held out a hand in front of the man’s face. “I win. Hand over the caps. I told you Preston wouldn’t stay away from here forever.”

“I’ll drop ‘em by your door in the morning, Mariner,” Allen irritably said, picking up his gun. “Maybe use ‘em to fix up the damn defences of this town.”

“Maybe use your guns to get rid of the fog creatures,” She replied, childishly sticking her tongue out at him. “Would do a lot more than all your bitching about the rad eaters!”

“Good to see you haven’t changed, Caitlin,” Preston said, laughing when she rolled her eyes. “What happened to your hair?”

“Still long, still got bangs, have most of it tied up under this beanie because it’s f*cking cold,” She said with a shrug. “Haven’t seen you since I was a kid, but I knew you’d be back.”

“Good instincts, though I didn’t expect…” He shook his head. “Has the fog really pressed all of you into this part of the Island alone?”

“Mostly,” She said, cracking her knuckles. “Now my parents, brother and I have given up sole ownership of the dock to keep everyone alive. Impressed? I went from being a rambunctious kid to a tired twenty two year old whose job it is to keep this place from completely falling apart.”

“Either way, thank you for reminding me Kasumi went with Longfellow,” Olympia sighed, looking over Ada, Derek, Preston, and Ellie. “Didn’t even introduce myself to your friends, Preston, I think I’m really losing my grip,” She smiled. “Captain Olympia Avery, the de facto leader of this town. If you’re looking for Longfellow, he’s probably in the bar – The Last Plank – but just know he’s…an acquired taste.”

Preston chuckled. “He is,” His face fell when thunder began to ring out. “Guess now’s a good a time as any to start trying to find Kasumi…her family’s worried sick and with what we know about the fog? I can’t blame them.”

Avery sadly nodded. “Neither can I.”

The Commonwealth
October the 28th, 2288
11:06

“Go ahead and try it. You’ll do a real good job endearing yourselves to the people of the Commonwealth.”

Being dead serious was a rare thing for any of the Atom Cats but, for once, their leader was. He stepped towards the group of Brotherhood Scribes and Knights with his gun drawn, co*cked, and loaded. A firm scowl on his face and the helmet of his power armour on the ground nearby, Zeke waited for one of the Knights to remove the helmets of their power armour too. When they didn’t, he wrinkled his nose in disgust. Can’t even face us without hiding behind your digs? Nosebleeds. Got to tell Duke about this when we get back. Hope he’s not having too much trouble holding down the home front on his own. Rowdy stepped past him and hopped up onto a small table, pushing the baskets of harvested crops aside, and sitting cross legged on top of it, the only one of the Cats not in their power armour. Two Scribes took a few steps back, and another stepped back as well when Rowdy drew her revolver, though she played with it between her hands while Zeke stood uncompromisingly. In her power armour herself, Roxy walked over to stand next to Rowdy, holding her own gun drawn on the Scribes and Knights, the same as Zeke. On his left side stood Johnny D, fully suited up in his power armour, who handed Zeke his sunglasses when he began to squint in the bright, late morning light. To his right stood Bluejay, in front of the gate into the Warwick family’s farm. When one of the Knights moved towards them and drew his gun, Zeke, Bluejay, Roxy, Johnny, and Rowdy all kept their guns drawn too, aimed squarely at the approaching Knight.

“All y’all took the time to fly your stupid little helicopters over here, and for what?” Bluejay said, reloading his M4 Carbine before aiming it at the Knight’s chest. “To try and rob a group of farmers?”

“Had to sludge through sh*t and piss from where you landed, too,” Rowdy taunted, waving her revolver dramatically. “So, what are you going to do? Run them over? You’ll have to go through us.”

“We’d rather not get there,” Zeke said, pushing out an arm to hold Bluejay back. “But we’re not going to let you go robbing a family blind.”

“Robbing blind?” A Scribe exclaimed. “We’re collecting requisitions.”

“Yeah, sure, requisitions,” Johnny rolled his eyes. “Then why did we get asked to help defend them?”

“Because they don’t understand what’s happening here,” A Knight irritably replied. “By order of the Brotherhood Of Steel, under leadership of Elder Maxson and the direct orders of Proctor Teagan, we are here to collect requisitions and ensure cooperation by the local civilians.”

Rowdy snorted. “Ensure cooperation, sure.”

“What on earth are you –” The first Knight said, disgust entering her voice when Rowdy set down her revolver and lit up a cigarette. “Of course you people all engage in nasty habits.”

“Nasty habits?” Rowdy laughed, taking a long draw on her cig before waving the smoke at the Scribes and Knights. “Sorry, but if you want to make me feel bad for being a smoker, you’re going to have to try much harder than calling it a nasty habit with your nasal ass, fake sweet voice.”

“Could do to take off your helmets and face us like men,” Roxy added, taking off her helmet with a flourish. “We’ll be civil if you will be too.”

“Our mission is to ensure the full cooperation of civilian farmers, by any means necessary,” Another Knight angrily said. “How much clearer do you want us to make it?”

“We know what you mean,” Johnny said, rolling his eyes. “But we’re not having it. You all obviously have money to pay people for what you’re saying you need.”

“Flagrantly would be a better word,” Roxy said, frowning at the Knights slowly moving towards Bluejay and the gates into the farm. “You come in here on a massive air ship, with massive air and manpower, and are building something ginormous on the tarmac of an airport blown to sh*t two hundred years ago. You expect us to think you don’t have a ton of caps?”

“So, hand over the caps to the family and buy from them legitimately, or get out,” Bluejay added, snorting when a Knight stepped back upon Zeke pointing his M16 at them. “puss*es.”

“Do you even know how good you have it with us here?” A Scribe snapped. “If it weren’t for us coming, the Institute would only continue to manipulate and –”

“I’d rather deal with the Institute than you,” Rowdy said flippantly, drawing on her cig. “At least we know what them and their robots want. They just want to hide in their little world wherever the f*ck they are and do stupid science sh*t.”

“The Institute are creating abominations of nature!” The Scribe said, pinching his nose shut when Rowdy waved some of her smoke towards him again. “Does no one in your Commonwealth have manners?”

“Do you?” Bluejay taunted. “Pretty sure, just because you’ve got the fun little laser toys, we’ve got better guns than you. Doubt your lasers are much of a match for our bullets.”

“True,” Rowdy said with a smirk, though she pushed her revolver to the side on the table she was sat upon to pull out her silver studded baseball bat from her backpack beneath it and not another gun. “Plus, we’ve got some, shall we say, more traditional beauties.”

The first Scribe looked at her in disbelief. “You seriously think your weapons are superior to ours when you play with a baseball bat? What do you even do with –”

Stubbing out her cigarette and no longer able to take the equivocating, Rowdy stood up, flipped her baseball bat in her hands, and whacked the Scribe upside the head with her bat. One swing, followed by another, and another. When the Scribe fell over, unconscious, two of the Knights turned towards her, their guns aimed at her. They stopped short of firing on her when Johnny and Zeke stepped in front of her, fully suited in their power armour, and with their own guns drawn. The other five Scribes scrambled to get behind the three Knights, picking up and carrying their unconscious colleague with them. Feeling her point had been made, Rowdy set her studded baseball bat on the table beside her revolver and began digging through her backpack again when Roxy came and stood beside Zeke and Johnny. Staring down the three Knights in their power armour, Roxy, Zeke, and Johnny kept their weapons drawn but whispered amongst themselves. One of the Knights began to step forward when he heard Roxy, under her breath, make fun of their Brotherhood issued power armour but was pulled back by his Brother and Sister when Roxy pointed her ACR at them in warning. When Rowdy stepped back out from behind them, it was with an AR-18 in hand, almost comically large compared to her small stature.

“Now, you see,” She said, half playfully waving her gun. “We would have a lot more respect for you if you’d be honest about what you’re doing here in the Commonwealth. This could be all over if you’d just get away from this farm or pay them fairly for whatever the f*ck it is you want from them.”

“If you don’t cooperate, we’ll be left with no choice but to use force,” The first Knight said, her voice dripping with vitriol. “We’d like to avoid collateral damage, but the food stores don’t replenish themselves.”

“Use force? I’d like to see you try.”

The five conscious Scribes and the three Knights whipped towards the gate upon hearing the voice of a woman followed by the creak of its opening. Stepping back in front of it once she passed through, Bluejay smirked a little at the Knights, who looked more and more annoyed by the second. Roxy let out a long whistle, surprised to see June Warwick walking out from the farm and her home. Her old handgun holstered on her side and arms crossed, the no-nonsense, tired, and motherly composure she usually held was gone in favour of a cold, uncompromising glare the Warwick matriarch realised she had not used in many years. One of the Scribes snorted, unafraid, and the others looked merely bored. They only began to look concerned when she approached the Knights and stopped only a metre or so away from them. Rowdy and Zeke grinned at each other and Bluejay, still in front of the gate and ready to fire if need be, waited at the ready. None of the Knights made any moves closer to June, however, and, for a minute, they were in simple, stunned silence.

“We may have called in the Cats to lend us a hand, but we ain’t afraid to fight back ourselves,” June said, her eyes narrowing when one of the Knights scoffed. “So, if you want to do this the hard way, then we can do it the hard way but, whichever way you choose, you are going to get your asses off our farm, or we’re going to throw you into the wastewater with all the sh*t from our livestock.”

“You hicks have no idea how good you have it with us here,” The first Knight took off her helmet to glower at June, who pulled out her gun and aimed it at her. “You’re not going to shoot me, you know –”

June fired off several shots, all of them landing no more than a few centimetres away from the Knight’s feet. The Scribes, their unconscious Brother in tow, began running back to the vertibird. The other two Knights raised their weapons and pointed them at June, and the first Knight stepped back, furious.

“You ain’t getting warning shots the next time,” June told her, matching the fury in the woman’s eyes with her voice. “This is private property, so either you can get off, or you’re going to have a real sh*t time because, trust me, no one in the Commonwealth is going to give in to you arrogant motherf*ckers and your goddamned saviour complex.”

The Institute
November the 1st, 2288
12:15

To no surprise, when Dr. Madison Li stepped back into her office after a brief lunch with Dr. Allison Filmore, Dr. Janet Thompson, and Dr. Rosalind Orman, there were a plethora of emails waiting for her the second she logged into her computer terminal. Tired just looking at them, she sighed, and sat down at her desk, briefly closing her eyes, resting her head in her hands.

Things were busy. They were so busy, as it were, to the point where the word was near meaningless. A little annoyed, when she opened her eyes again, she realised an additional few emails had come in. Her hand all but snapping over the computer mouse, the other resting over the keys, she began quickly scrolling through to the bottom, looking for the last read communication. The second she found it, she clicked on the first unopened one above it and began to read. One after the other. Every so often, she would pause, take a closer look, and mark the email as important; easy to find and return to later. The first one to catch her eye also made her raise an eyebrow from its subject line alone. Old Papers From The FEV Programme? Taking a cursory look over it, Madison frowned and opened the first of multiple long PDFs, unsurprised to find them full of failed experiments but surprised by the quantity. Clicking back to the main tab and the email, her eyes narrowed the further down she read. Though the youngest member of the Directorate, Dr. Clayton Holdren was, she knew, far from naïve and, more importantly, a dreadful liar. To see him growing more confused and flustered by information he, she suspected, should have had access to as head of the Bioscience Division was troubling.

The more of the email she read, the more accurate that assessment seemed to be.

My understanding of the FEV virus was it had been an attempt to create an injection which could boost a human immune system beyond natural capacities overall and, specifically, make one less susceptible to radiation poisoning and general disease. The earliest records we have on the strain developed by the Institute date back to 2068, at which time it had been artificially developed and was being tested on its compatibility with organic structures in a body through early, preliminary tests on animals. By 2096, we have the first records of a successful run in animal testing, with human testing beginning the year after, starting with volunteers from within the Institute itself. After years of minimal progress and not wanting to rely on those within the Institute itself, unethically, my predecessors took people from the Commonwealth, some of whom volunteered without question and some of whom were extensively misled about what they were consenting to in order to receive vast amounts of additional resources from the Institute to supplement their usually quite impoverished homesteads or towns. Regardless of ethics, the human trials continued. These ended disastrously and the human DNA samples failed to coalesce with the FEV in the earliest attempts to create synthetic organics from the 2100s to 2120s. They began taking people from the surface in the 2130s.

Of note, there’s a massive gap in any FEV research from 2145 until 2170, which seems to suggest the programme was temporarily abandoned. If I recall correctly, this was around the time the Institute began attempting to implant memories of pre-War people – police detectives, university professors, etc – into our second generation synths, which failed to yield any promising results. It appears that was the impetus for FEV research recommencing by 2172, where the next paper in the sequence is dated. Our records on the programme appear impeccable, so I find it hard to believe anything has been removed without documentation. However, in the return to that line of research, the FEV programme continued to be stagnant and be given minimal resources from 2170 onwards, only picking up briefly around 2226 until 2229. Research just about stopped once the first, successful third generation synths were made in 2228, apart from briefly restarting when Dr. Zimmer brought back a strain of FEV from the Capital Wasteland in 2277 which had belonged to the ‘Enclave.’

Dr. Virgil’s research is included in the papers, and it all ended up with failed or inconclusive results, something his notes indicate he was incredibly frustrated by. He appeared to have been working on a cure for the FEV virus strain we had developed, as the one Zimmer brought back was discarded less than a year after it came into our possession. Frankly, though, all of this baffles me. It seems to be nothing more than a waste of resources, certainly after 2228. We can talk more about this later, Madison. I want to know what the hell is going on here, now, just as much as you do. It's baffling.

Dr. Clayton Caleb Holdren, Bioscience Division Head
“Insanity is doing the same thing over and over and expecting different results.” – Albert Einstein

“Under better circ*mstances, I’d find your email signature almost patronising,” Madison muttered to herself. “But, unfortunately, it’s accurate to how it feels trying to get anything out of Father regarding the FEV programme and laboratory.”

Hearing the buzzer on her desk go off, indicating an access request to her office, she briefly opened the security alert to check whose ID had been scanned. Seeing it was Rosalind’s, albeit a bit annoyed, Madison tapped the buzzer twice to allow access. Rosalind nearly fell over when the doors opened, one too many books in her arms, and barely managed to set them down without tripping over herself, only to fall over anyway when she tried to regain her composure. She nervously rubbed at her head when she heard the doors shut and lock behind her, only to look up, briefly confused, when she realised Dr. Li was standing over her, offering her a hand to help her up. A bit flustered when she got back on her feet, Rosalind hesitated before following Madison over towards the back of her office, the older woman apparently pulling some physical copies of department files. Though she knew what she was looking for and where it was, Madison still paused before pulling out the files, glancing back at the still nervous Janice. Rosalind. She almost instantly corrected herself but couldn’t help but check to make sure the woman in her office was Rosalind Orman and not Janice Kaplinsky. She’s been dead for a decade. If she hadn’t been killed, I almost certainly would have brought her with me, if only because of how much she wanted to travel. Uncomfortable with the memories, Madison sighed, pulled the files out, and handed them to Rosalind, who still looked rather anxious.

“The designs and test results from the weapons development project you’re working on with Jacqueline are coming along nicely,” Madison said, eyeing her closely. “The older ones you’ve been experimenting on seem to be more efficient, too. I know Dr. Watson sometimes gives you a hard time about wanting to work in the range, but you’re rather good at it, and, more to the point, passionate about it.”

Rosalind awkwardly nodded. “I…thanks, Dr. Li. It’s good to hear that, every now and again.”

“Well, you’ve certainly done a lot of intense work in the last few months alone,” Madison paused when Rosalind looked down at her feet. “Are you alright?”

“I am, but also…just nervous,” Rosalind admitted, tucking the files under her right arm and rubbing at her neck. “I’ve never been above ground before, and, while it does fascinate me, there…there really could be anything up there.”

“The good thing for you, then, is the fact you’ll be in one location,” Madison reminded her. “And I seriously doubt Dr. Filmore or Dr. Thompson would bring you along if they thought you’d be in immense danger or be a drag on the operation.”

“No, I…” Rosalind shook her head. “It’s hard to wrap my head around. Everything I’ve read about things above ground is nerve wracking. I probably shouldn’t have asked Dr. Secord to show me some of the SRB’s most recent surveillance tapes. The ones from the airport…you don’t think the Brotherhood are going to be waiting at Mass Fusion for us, do you?”

“Seeing as they have no recorded presence anywhere near the area, I’m going to say no, they won’t be,” Madison said, irritated at the thought. “The Brotherhood may be relentless hoarders of technology, but they don’t seem to be aware there's anything of importance left at the Mass Fusion Global Headquarters, let alone in its sublevels.”

“They really are a nuisance,” Rosalind said, still looking nervous. “I guess it’s hard not to worry about them. They have a lot of man…and fire…and…they have a lot of power.”

“But not enough common sense,” Madison pointedly told her. “If it makes you feel any better, I know there’s no chance Father would have approved this operation be carried out by Institute personnel and not our synths if he weren’t convinced it would be effective and relatively safe.”

Rosalind hesitantly nodded. “I know. It’s just hard not to worry.”

“I can’t fault you there,” Madison said, falling silent a moment. “But you’ll be alright. Listen to Dr. Filmore and Dr. Thompson, and, I’m sure, you’ll do alright.”

The Commonwealth
November the 7th, 2288
9:14

Home had never felt more unsafe.

The Cats, Sturges, and Derek had known what they were doing, and, so, it was not the power armour which left her uneasy, strange as it felt to walk in it. The sound of the heavy armour was something Nora knew she could feel from her toes to her nose, and the occasional smacking of the two larger bags she was carrying on her back against it startled her every so often. Even after three slow days of walking from Diamond City to Plainville, the sounds of her own movements in the power armour had yet to become normal. I ran a similar path to this during Freshman year of high school…and to think I thought making it from home to Fenway Park in ten hours was fast when I was one of the slowest in the class. The memory, for a moment, made her laugh. The spring ‘Freshman Run’ had made little sense to any of them at the time and, yet, it had also been fun, if only because it meant they got to miss a day of classes and got free tickets to a baseball game after. It feels like it only happened a decade ago, almost eleven years, come April, anyways. But it hasn’t been, it’s been… Not trusting herself to be able to keep going if she went too far down the rabbit hole, Nora took a minute to stop, catch her breath, and look over at Nick who, carrying several bags himself, was still calmly walking beside her.

They both knew why it had taken them so long to get to the town, and it had nothing to do with agility, endurance, or willpower.

Going through Plainville to get to Providence was more than a strategic choice. It was an emotional one, and an impulsively emotional one to boot.

In Plainville, Massachusetts, 2056, Marilyn and David Adelaide had moved their little family into a bigger home closer to the maternal grandparents of their children.

Gemma Adelaide, then five.

Nora Adelaide, then three.

Jason and Ryan Adelaide, then infants.

Standing in front of the home she had grown up in, now, Nora Jacqueline Norwich found herself wanting to vomit when she remembered the date. November the 7th.

Her birthday.

“This where you grew up?” Nick quietly asked, bowing his head when she nodded. “I’m sorry, Nora.”

“I’m the only one of my siblings to live past twenty four, and now I…I’m twenty six?” Her voice wavered. “Gemma,” She softly said, crossing the first step up to the front door. “Jason,” She said, crossing the second. “Ryan,” She paused after crossing the third, staring into the dilapidated and unkempt house, the door half rotted away with termites crawling and gnawing on it to take care of the rest. “My parents weren’t religious, and neither am I but…” She fell silent. “If there is an afterlife, I just hope they’re together. And were…were able to reconcile.”

“Reconcile?” Nick said, a bit surprised. “With a God or…”

“With each other,” Nora said, blinking back tears underneath the heavy layers of the power armour, the hazmat suit, and her regular clothes. “My…our parents with Gemma, after…after her suicide. Jason with all of them, and Ryan with…with himself.”

“I hope they got the chance too,” Nick said, lingering on the walkway up to the house when she stepped through the door. “Should I stay here?”

Nora shook her head. “I don’t think being alone could make this any…easier.”

When she disappeared around a corner and deeper into the house, feeling sure he would not be encroaching on her mourning, Nicholas Julius Valentine found himself hesitating when he reached the steps. Not wanting to trespass or, at the very least, feel as though he were trespassing, Nick bowed his head and, as Nora had, spoke the names of her sister and brothers when he crossed each step, the only difference being the three words he said after saying each name and before crossing the next step and saying the next name. Yehi zichra baruch. May her memory be a blessing, he said after crossing Gemma’s step. May his memory be a blessing, he said after crossing Jason’s step. May his memory be a blessing, he said after crossing Ryan’s step. He crossed the threshold into the home and bowed his head once more, closing his eyes for a few seconds. Never thought I’d use the words I’ve heard from Hadley, Derek, and their kids in this tragic a case. Then again, it’s better to have some words than none at all. Careful where he walked, not wanting to disturb the foundation or what structural integrity the house still had left, Nick slowly looked around, unsurprised to see much of the home had been raided, he reckoned, well over a century ago but could not help but feel disheartened by it. Most of what remained were things of no value to those whom had not lived in the home but, after seeing and unlocking a small safe, the one he was startled by was an old, fraying, and worn out calendar with the year on top of it reading 2077.

Gingerly taking it out from inside the safe he had found under the kitchen sink which he had opened on impulse, Nick hesitated before setting it down on the counter. With his mechanical hand, he carefully flipped back to the start of the year, reading each note remaining on the page. January the 9th, 2077 – Jason comes home from deployment. January the 17th, 2077 – Nora’s baby shower. January the 29th, 2077 – Ryan’s 1st year sober. He swallowed hard, reading the line again. Sober from what? Looking around, about to ask, Nick stopped himself when he realised he was alone in the kitchen. Turning the page, he quickly moved from February to March after seeing what was written on February the 5th, 2077. 35 years married, and 35 more to come! He looked quickly through March before turning to April. April to June. June to July. July. He almost dropped the calendar when he saw what was written July the 9th, 2077 – first grandbaby born! 7lbs, 8oz, Shaun Nathaniel Norwich! Seeing the date and how the words had been circled in bright blue ink, still peeking through despite the two centuries since it had been laid down, Nick stared at it, temporarily transfixed. Suddenly feeling sick, the thought of what might have compelled the then-infant’s grandparents to put their calendar in their safe crossing his mind, Nick began flipping through the calendar again. When he finished, he carefully rolled it up and safely tucked it into an empty, thick plastic container from one of his bags.

He stayed silent after putting the calendar back into the bag, safely inside the plastic, realising he had barely noticed himself taking the bag off in the first place to remove the container and store the calendar. After he zipped the bag shut and slung it back over his shoulders, the detective turned around and stepped out of the kitchen, finally heading towards the stairs to the upper levels of the house. The upperlevels, he knew, from the sound of her power armour, Nora had ascended to.

Careful with his steps, even more so on the stairs, Nick paused at the top of the stairs, his face falling when he saw, at the farthest end of the hall, where part of the roof had caved in. Hearing the sounds of movement stop, he took a few seconds to determine where the sounds had been coming from before walking towards the first bedroom off the stairs and to the right. When he opened the door, he saw Nora had stepped out of her power armour to sit down on the bed, curled up into herself in her hazmat suit and quietly sobbing, clutching something to her chest. When she calmed down after a few minutes, still crying but less violently, the lawyer stood up and what she was clutching to her chest was revealed to be a locket which, over her hazmat suit, she wrapped around her neck. Hands shaking badly, she eventually made herself step back into her power armour. It was then it occurred to the aged detective how small she was compared to him, even in her power armour which gave her a good four more inches in height. Why the Institute made us early model synths anywhere from six to seven feet tall baffles me. I’m still a good head taller than her, even in the damn suit. Unsure of what to say, if anything, Nick took a look around the room, only to find himself startled when he realised, pulled out from in the floorboards, was a small, hidden safe, which, he was nearly certain, had been where the locket had been and, still within, laid a frayed and faintly water stained passport.

“She only looks like me,” Nora quietly said, her voice breaking when Nick knelt down to pick up and examine the passport. “But that’s not me. I might as well have a new name and social security number. She was so much…so much more happy. And, in most ways, had a perfect life. We…I…I had a perfect life, and, now, the home I grew up in is falling apart, on the outskirts of a badly irradiated hell, and I’m the only one of my siblings – our entire family – still alive.”

Nick slowly nodded, pocketing her passport. “You might want this back, one day,” He said kindly. “I’ll store it securely in one of our bags before we leave. If there’s…anything else you want to bring back from here, I’m happy to make sure we do.”

“I’ll…I’ll let you know if there’s anything else,” Nora said shakily. “But I…more than, even more than what I need to bring with…I hope you’re right about these ‘Children Of Atom’ having made a city in Providence, one we can take safe shelter in away from the rads if need be. And…and I hope to God they know something – anything – about Virgil.”

“The Children may be an odd bunch but they’re nothing if not resilient,” Nick calmly told her. “I can’t say anything’s completely certain, hell no one can, but I’ll be damn shocked if they aren’t still there. I’ve been out here a handful of times, and they’ve always been hospitable and charitable. They have some wacked out beliefs, but they mean well.”

“If they can keep me from getting sick and dying out here and can help me find Virgil, I don’t care what they believe,” Nora shook her head. “I…I have a responsibility as a mother, to Shaun. I have to find him, no matter what it takes. He’s already lost one parent and been treated like a f*cking living doll for Kellogg…I…I have to get him back.”

“And we’re going to do everything we can to make sure you do,” Nick said, setting one hand to each of her shoulders. “I’m not a parent, never have been and never will be as a synth, but I know the responsibility of being a parent weighs heavy on anyone’s shoulders at one point or another. The thing is, in my experience, most of the parents who think they’re failing their kids or have failed them aren’t. You’re one of those parents.”

“Hopefully Shaun will feel the same, then,” Nora said, her voice breaking as she began crying harder again. “I want – need – him to know the way I love him. The way I’ve always loved him. I need him to know I don’t care what it costs, because he’s my son and I am doing everything – have killed, even – to get him back, and to protect him from whatever ends up…whatever we end up with after I get him back.”

“He’ll know,” Nick said, pausing a minute while she tried to calm herself. “You have good intentions, Nora, and I know you love your boy more than life itself but, please, don’t turn to anger to fuel finding him. It’s a hell of a motivator, but it’ll destroy you and your life if you let it.”

“If I’m angry, it’s because it’s justified,” Nora said, fury lingering on the periphery of her voice. “And, I’m sorry, Nick, but I’m not you, and I don’t have the choice to be compassionate or not about every damn piece of this. I just don’t.”

Diamond City
November the 10th, 2288
22:18

“The Glowing Sea?” Vadim’s face and voice lost all amusem*nt when Piper nodded. “She has guts, but even I’d be scared to go anywhere near there.”

Even as a well seasoned bartender and, for that matter, bar patron, Vadim was caught by surprise when Cait all but flopped forward on the bar, wrapping her arms around her head and mumbling to herself. Piper on her left and MacCready on her right, the writer and the former gunner shared a long look, both unsettled and surprised by Cait’s mood. Hoping to lighten the mood a little, Vadim tossed Piper a beer and MacCready a whiskey, clapping when they both caught their respective drinks with one hand and high fived each other with their free hand. Cait glanced up briefly to look between them before falling back on the bar again. With a worried shake of his head, Vadim began pouring Cait shots of some of her favourite drinks, and, when he was done, set them down in front of her. He awkwardly pushed her back up and, with a flourish, pulled out a spare blanket from under the counter which he quickly came around from to wrap over her shoulders. The former cage fighter gave him a small smile while he walked back around the bar and began serving a few other customers, though he quickly called over his brother, who did not come, and Scarlett, who did. Promptly and happily taking over for him, and relieved to be able to stop cleaning, the bubbly waitress began working and Vadim, now free, went back over to where Piper, Cait, and MacCready were sat, sitting down across from them behind the bar.

“I don’t think I’ve ever heard of any bloke going into the Glowing Sea and coming back in one piece, or even alive,” Cait said, her stomach sinking. “I know she’s got every damn protection known to man and is with Nicky, but I still…I don’t like it. I don’t want her to get killed out there.”

“Nick won’t let her die,” Piper reassured her. “And aren’t they convening with a settlement out there, where they can take shelter from the radiation and whatever the f*ck else is out there as long as they need? I think they’ll be alright, even if they have to be out there a while, because they’ll have shelter.”

“The people Nicky was talking about are the Children Of Atom!” Cait shuddered. “The same people who tried to execute you, Piper!”

Piper sighed. “It sounds like Nick knows this group of them, and it’s going to be working in their favour they aren’t known as nosy reporters who go into the sewers for a story.”

“The sewers? Really?” MacCready said, looking disgusted at the thought alone. “Yeah, I can’t say I’d be particularly eager to go there for any reason. Having grown up in cave…I don’t think any of you would have survived having to use the Lamplight restrooms, in part because there was a non zero chance of finding a human skeleton in there.”

“You know, the more you talk about where you grew up, the more I’m amazed you’re still alive to begin with,” Piper gagged. “Call me a priss, but even when Nat and I lived – briefly, with our dad, before he was killed, when I was little and she was a baby – in a small town a little ways out from Quincy, it was no picnic, but we never had to worry about coming across a random human skeleton when having to void our bladder or bowels.”

Cait rolled her eyes. “We love you Piper, but you really wouldn’t have survived where he’s from or in the Combat Zone,” She turned to MacCready. “Think the worst thing I ever saw there was when I went back to this lady’s room to confront her for trying to grab my tit*. It was filled with a couple of dead bodies, sh*te, piss, and puke. Turned out she was a cannibal. Told Tommy and, thankfully, he kicked her out.”

MacCready eyed her strangely. “Cait, the fact it took something that extreme to really truly unsettle you terrifies me.”

“Listen, pretty boy,” Cait said with a half teasing smile, knocking his hat off his head and onto the bar counter. “You may think you’re all tough, having grown up in a cave ‘til you ran off with your girlfriend at fifteen, but you ain’t got nothing on me.”

“If ‘not having anything on you’ means I didn’t come across…” MacCready grimaced, setting down his whiskey. “You want to talk about scary places? Some Brotherhood idiots went through the town in 2278, including through Murder Pass. Guess why it had the name Murder Pass.”

Piper snorted. “Because you were raised by homicidal teenagers?”

“Not true!” MacCready said, snapping his fingers with a smirk. “It was called Murder Pass because of the mutants and raiders with heavy weapons living in it. A few of the kids would go down there to kill and steal weapons from them every so often. But, long story short, when I was mayor, two siblings, both at the top of the Brotherhood, calling themselves ‘Paladin’ and ‘Sentinel’ showed up at our door with a small army. Told us they needed to conduct an ‘investigation’ of the Vaults in the region, and forced their way in. Only good thing they did was kill all the super mutants. Left with stuff they probably looted from the Vault and never came back.”

“Well, now I know why you don’t trust the Brotherhood,” Piper sighed when he nodded. “Can’t say I’m a big fan of them being here. Lissy really doesn’t like it and, really, I can’t blame her.”

“They do what they want, take whatever they want, and don’t care whose toes they step on or who they hurt or who gets hurt in the process,” MacCready said, bitterness edging into his voice. “Seeing a patrol of them, shortly after we found what…what was able to get Duncan to recover, gave Annette a panic attack. She hasn’t been too eager to discuss what it was like, being under their thumb with pretty much no chances to leave their little ‘Citadel,’ but what she has said…it’s horrific.”

“sh*te,” Cait said, her voice unusually serious. “Those blokes pack some serious firepower. With where they’re going, I hope…I hope Nora and Nicky don’t have to cross paths with them.”

“Nora and Nicky are going southwest, no?” Vadim shrugged when Cait nodded. “I see little Brotherhood out of the area of the old airport. I don’t think they’ll run into them. Most of the problem people down there are raiders and gunners.”

Cait turned to MacCready, paling and look sick to her stomach. “You don’t think the gunners –”

“Seeing as I’ve done everything I can to stay out of the way of those guys to stop them from trying to put a bullet in my back for the last year and a half, how am I supposed to know?” MacCready exclaimed, struggling to mask the anxiety bubbling in his chest. “I have to worry about whether or not they’ll show up in Goodneighbour and…shi…shoot,” He fell silent. “Come to think of it, they’ve been oddly quiet around Goodneighbour recently. Haven’t seen the two ass – sorry, idiots – who’ve been after me in nearly four, almost five months. I –”

“They’ve probably decided you’re not worth wasting time and money on trying to f*ck up,” Piper calmly said, sending him a pointed, sisterly look. “And, if they do come back, I’m sure you can handle them. I doubt Hanco*ck will object to you killing them if they come back and threaten you or hassle anyone else.”

“I’m not worried about them coming after me per se, I’m worried for Duncan’s sake,” MacCready said, his voice a bit uneven. “He’s only just…he’s only now getting better, and I don’t…if he loses me or, God forbid, those – no, I’ll say it, those assholes – try to hurt him, or if they manage to, I don’t…I don’t even know what I’d do.”

“Duncan hasn’t done anything for them or against them,” Piper gently reminded him. “sh*t, they may not even know he exists. And, again, Mack. You. Are. A. f*cking. Sharpshooter. If they think you’re a pushover or an easy target, then they’re out of their minds, and not in the way they already are.”

“Listen to her, she’s a smart girl,” Vadim said, pushing another beer towards Piper. “Free one for being a smarty pants.”

Piper grinned. “Hey, you know I try.”

“I get why you’re worried,” Cait said, surprising herself. “Not the same, but, sh*te, the thought of something happening to Nora out there in hell makes me sick, and not the ‘too much drank, too many chems’ kind of sick. The kind of real, anxiety –”

“– Inducing sick where you don’t know how’d you react or what you’d do to the people who hurt the person you care about,” MacCready said, and Cait nodded, looking a little nervous. “Don’t tell me, Cait. You’ve got some feelings towards Nora, feelings going well beyond friendship.”

“I…” Cait looked between him and the shots in front of her, taking seven of them in quick succession before, after swallowing hard, catching her breath. “f*ck you, Mackie,” She swore under her breath. “Yes,” Her voice was almost inaudible. “I don’t know when it started or why but…f*ck it. I like her a hell of a lot more than she’s ready to hear or I’m ready to say to her because what am I supposed to say when she’s a brilliant lawyer and I’m an addict with no impulse control?”

“You’re more than any of the sh*t, Cait,” Piper said, setting a hand to her close friend’s shoulder. “And it’s alright.”

“I want to…” Cait shook her head, biting down on her hand. “f*ck. f*ck, f*ck, f*ckity f*ck. If she doesn’t come back alive, I’m going to take great pleasure in killing the people responsible, mark my words.”

Chapter 30: Something Unconscionable

Chapter Text

The Commonwealth
November the 15th, 2288
19:08

“It’s good you arrived when you did. I trust our underground homes have been treating you well? I’m sorry you cannot bathe in Atom’s glow as can we.”

Wrapping one of her two thermal blankets tighter around herself, still unused to the cold, dank, darkness of the caves and the half of the city carved and built out within them, Nora Jacqueline Norwich uncomfortably nodded. The twinkling lights of the mix of lightbulbs, string lights, and more traditional lamps were an eerie reminder of how deep underground they were and, though in most ways it was nothing like the Vault, it felt painfully familiar. Yet, uncomfortable as their surroundings were, they were also the only place safe from the radiation clinging to just about everything else above ground. Above ground. Above them, well above them and well away from safety and shelter, lay what had become the worst reminder of how far gone life before the War’s fiery culmination was. Trying not to dwell on the violent storm out there which, to her relief, was almost able to be forgotten about so deep underground where its cacophonies were unable to be seen or heard, Nora wrapped her hands tighter around the edges of the blanket draped over her shoulders. It was there. Tactile. Real. She pushed herself up a little to sit up against the back of the surprisingly soft and comfortable bed. The former lawyer let out a light sigh of relief when she saw Nick was still sat at one of the chairs in the room, having closed the gargantuan book he had been reading ever since they had arrived into the safety of the city which, to her brief disbelief, had been nearly a week prior.

A week.

A week and a day ago, she realised as her heart dropped, she had turned twenty six.

And, f*ck, did it hurt her through her skin and bones and to her soul to realise she was not only the sole survivour, just about, of Vault 111 but the sole survivour of the War of her siblings and parents.

Having no desire to even risk needing to explain her tears to the generous if mad woman who had entered their lodgings, Nora remained silent, twining her fingers in and out of each other. It was becoming a habit. She closed her eyes a moment when she felt tears nipping at their corners, and only opened them again when she was certain she would not begin to cry. Unnerved by the silence but not trusting her voice to not betray the storm underneath her masks, Nora tried to satisfy herself with observing the woman and Nick. Polite and amicable as ever, when she sat down beside him, Nick handed her the book he had been reading, allowing her to page through the passages he had marked either with a sticky note or a corner of the pages tucked down. Intrigued, the woman almost reverently turned through each and every one of the pages the aged detective had marked. Seeing the cover again, albeit for only a few seconds, the woman’s interest in Nick’s reading became clear as day. Embossed on the cover in bronze, calligraphic script were the words The Holy Words And Prophecy Of Atom. She almost smiled, the ‘Atomite faith’ as it was called both intriguing and maddening, but, instead, felt her face fall again when the thought she had been fighting most with came back to the forefront of her mind in a vengeful fashion.

If anything has happened to Shaun worse than what has already been done, then the fault is my own for not being able to protect him or rescue him fast enough.

“Some of our Brothers and Sisters have previously thought of you, Nicholas, as being by your very nature an affront to Atom. I am pleased they have since overcome their prejudice and accepted your unique body and mind as an unlikely gift from Atom,” She closed the book and handed it back to him. “I am honoured to shelter you and your most resilient companion. Few people have witnessed Atom’s holy act of division and survived to tell of it.”

“It…was intense,” Nora nervously said when the woman looked at her. “Even from so far away it…it was unmistakable. I’ll never be able to forget it.”

“Bearing witness to Atom’s glory in its most naked and pure form is, truly, an unforgettable experience,” The woman said with a bow of her head. “I hope I shall one day be able to experience the same.”

“Whether you’ll get the opportunity or not, I appreciate your granting us safe harbour, Isolde,” Nick said with a rueful shake of his head. “Sudden and aggressive storms are an unfortunate reality of this part in the Commonwealth, for those of us like my friend here who aren’t immune to radiation.”

“I understand. Many of our faithful Brothers and Sisters are not granted such a gift from Atom,” Isolde said in her calm, almost bouncy voice. “Thus, they make the sacrifice to engage with radiation mitigators in order to spread his word and glory. It is a noble sacrifice. Those whom give their life to Atom are as honourable as a person can be. Though it saddens me, my daughter is one of them.”

“You…you’ve lost a child too?” Nora said, her voice shaky. “I’m so sorry…it’s the worst pain imaginable.”

“It is and my faithful Dawn was cruelly manipulated and sacrificed for her faith by a false prophet of Atom,” Isolde said, wiping aside tears at the memory. “She has since become a glowing shell of a human being, a victim of a man who corrupted Atom’s gifts in an act of cruelty and heresy against her true and pure faith. We pray every day for an end to her suffering, so she may return to Atom and be reborn in his sight, made whole again, her sacrifice never for even a fraction of a second forgotten.”

“She was a good kid,” Nick set the book down on the table beside him, then turning to face her, leaning back slightly in the chair, one arm resting on the side of the chair and the other resting over his knees, hands clasped together. “I recall, the last time I was here, you telling me Paul was particularly heartbroken by her fate. He truly loved her, didn’t he?”

“He did, and, as such, yes, Brother Ogden took what befell Dawn quite hard. To this day, he is still quite aggrieved,” Isolde paused, saying a prayer under her breath. When she finished, she shifted her gaze to Nora. “I understand you have made this journey with the intention of finding someone. I have not pressed you for it as I know your way here must have been arduous beyond simple comprehension. If you are ready to speak of it, now you have had time to settle into safe shelter with us, I will be pleased to offer you aid in whatever manner I can.”

Nora hesitantly nodded. “I…I appreciate it. Th…thank you.”

“It is no trouble at all. Atom calls upon us to be hospitable and charitable to all, even those unable to bask in his glow,” Isolde smiled. “You, also, are a friend of Nicholas, after all, and he is one of our few contacts in the world beyond our hallowed Crater.”

“I…of course,” Nora fell silent, her mind a bit foggy. What am I even supposed to say? All of this is so damn… “We’re trying to rescue my baby boy. My son,” She got out, trying not to cry. “A man – Conrad Kellogg – gave him to the Institute. We – I – need to get into the Institute. I need to get my son back.”

Isolde frowned. “I have heard of this Institute,” She said sadly. “They hide themselves completely, trying to avoid the might, power, and providence of Atom. It is a futile effort for them, and all of whom refuse to acknowledge his divinity and respect it the way you and Nicholas have. But how might I be able to aid you in your search for the heretics who stole your child?”

“There…there’s a man, a man who had been part of but left the Institute,” Nora nervously forced herself to meet the woman’s intense gaze. “His name is Dr. Brian Virgil and we…we know he went into the Glowing Sea to hide from them.”

“Ah, yes, Virgil,” Isolde said, her eyes momentarily glazing over. “He does reside here, though not in our Crater. I have much respect for him, as he came to seek Atom’s shelter and, by belief in his strength, has been granted such. In truth, though, I must caution you, some believe his presence is an affront to Atom.”

“Do you…” Nora chewed at the inside of her cheek, choosing her words carefully. “Do you know where he is? Or if he’s still here?”

“Yes, I do,” Isolde said with a peaceful smile. “He resides in a cave, southwest of our Crater. He has come to trade with us on a few occasions, but we have little contact with him apart from the sharing of the material resources Atom has provided us. I would approach cautiously were I you. I feel he does not want visitors.”

“Can’t say I blame him,” Nick said. “Paranoia would come with the territory if you were bold enough to abandon the Institute.”

“He is a dauntless man and, though he knows it not, Virgil has been blessed for his faith by Atom’s good shelter,” Isolde said, gazing between him and Nora. “On good faith, however, I cannot allow the two of you to go to him until you can make the journey safely, and it is never safe to test Atom when he hurls his divine winds and thunders and lightning bolts. When Atom lifts his storm, I will send a few of my most faithful to him so as to prepare him for your arrival. When they return, I will have them escort you to your meeting with him in safe passage.”

“Appreciate this, Isolde,” Nick said, taking a short glance at Nora before turning back to the ever calm Isolde. “I know we’ll likely be here a while, too, so, once again, thank you for aiding us.”

“You have come to seek answers in Atom’s glow,” She replied. “It is a noble mission, too, being one to ensure the safe reunification of a mother and her child.”

“It’s impossible to give up on your child,” Nora said, biting back tears. “They’re…they’re the most important part of your world.”

“Yes, they are,” Isolde said with a kind and matronly tone of voice. “And merciful Atom shall reunite you to your son.”

Mass Fusion Global Headquarters
November the 19th, 2288
12:01

“For its time, this was almost certainly one of if not the most advanced of all the fusion reactors in the world back then. I have to admit, I’m impressed.”

All but enraptured at the sight of what once had been a prized scientific breakthrough, all Dr. Rosalind Orman could do in response to the observations of Dr. Allison Filmore was nod. The anxious and excited buzz from their descent was still coursing through her veins parallel to the relief of knowing the Brotherhood were nowhere nearby, and the feeling was, much to her surprise, something the young physicist found herself rather enjoying. Their first and second generation synth escorts guarding the doors into the expansive reactor control room while the others fought off the handfuls of gunner mercenaries looting the main of the building, too, left more room, so far as Rosalind was concerned, for excited anticipation. Even more cautious than Dr. Filmore or the young Dr. Orman, Dr. Janet Thompson began taking air quality and pressure readings. When she was certain they did not need to use their supplemental oxygen, Janet walked over to join Allie and Rosalind at the computer terminal arrays. Finding the master computer, Janet turned it on, surprised to find it still in good working condition after over two centuries since its installation. Plugging in an Institute data reader, she began the process of downloading a copy of everything stored in the computer. She ejected and stored the data reader back into one of the two bags they had brought with them for the retrieval the second the data had finished downloading. Then, she stepped aside to allow Allie to sit down in front of the computer and begin to navigate through its systems.

Fingers quick and methodical on the keyboard, Allie quickly found and pulled up the reactor controls and status readers. Seeing it to be still conducting stable reactions, albeit slow and to provide minimal power to the facility, she scrolled down to the active readings. She frowned when she saw the current read on radiation inside the reactor room. Uncomfortable with the given readings, and hoping they were inaccurate, Allie switched tabs to the command controls, and manually began the process of a new reading. When the results came back almost identical, her hands lingered over the keyboard before, a bit hesitantly, she found the programme to manually shut down the reactor for ‘maintenance’ and started running it. Slowly but surely, the reactor’s processes came to a halt. Letting the reactor room stabilise upon the reactor’s temporary shutdown, she waited a few minutes before returning to the reader programmes. Beginning another manual reading of the reactor room’s irradiation, Allie quietly swore when the radiation level readings came back better but not much better than before the reactor’s shutdown. Going through the system again to ensure she didn’t miss anything, she sighed when it became clear there was no way of mitigating the radiation levels any further. Looking up from the computer to see Janet still downloading potential, additional information from the other computer terminals, she waved Rosalind over, the young physicist still abuzz by their surroundings.

“It looks pretty dangerous in there, more dangerous than I anticipated,” Allie told her. “Guess they weren’t so good at mitigating radiation back in those days. Levels are almost off the charts.”

Rosalind considered that. “Should we have a synth go in and do the retrieval then?”

“Too risky. Even if we had a Courser, say, with us, they could easily damage the agitator,” She paused. “I know, of course, our hazard suits – after quite literally centuries of development – are in theory capable of withstanding even the most toxic levels of radiation, but I’m not entirely comfortable sending anyone in there.”

“Someone’s got to do it,” Rosalind reminded her. “Lucky for you, I’m not afraid to. Call me crazy, but I have full faith in our anti-radiation measures. I’ve also taken a ton of rad-x and, worst comes to worse, I have to spend extra time under Dr. Volkert’s care which, since Brenden’s almost always there, wouldn’t be terrible.”

“Joking in the face of mortal danger. Always a good sign,” Allie said under her breath before sighing. “I’ll monitor from here. Retrieve the agitator quickly and store it in the transport container. It looks like there’s a decontamination chamber in the airlock between the control room and the reactor. The second you step through there with the agitator safely stored and sealed completely air and watertight, I’ll run the decontamination sequence.”

Rosalind nodded. “Alright,” She said, taking off the bag she had been carrying and removing the transport container. “Open the door. I’m going in.”

Closely watching her approach the door into the airlock, Allie waited until Janet came back over to the master computer terminal. The two of them now able to put their full attention on a swift and safe retrieval, Allie opened the airlock. She shut the door to the control room the second Rosalind was through the doors. Briefly panicking, she calmed down the second she remembered the false agitator was in the transport container. Sure they would be able to cover their tracks again and, seeing the determined look on Rosalind’s face, she opened the door into the reactor room. Quick on her feet, Rosalind made her way up the stairs and to the top of the reactor. Approaching the small computer terminal beside it, she set down the transport container and jammed the Institute cipher breaker into its reader port. Sure enough, the computer terminal unlocked and, after fussing with it for no more than a minute, she got the reactor open. In a few careful yet swift motions, Rosalind opened the transport container, and removed the false agitator, tucking it under her arm. She then delicately removed the beryllium agitator from the reactor and gingerly set it down and secured it in the transport container. With much less care, she shoved the false agitator into the reactor and used the computer terminal to shut it. The beginnings of a headache starting to come over her, she picked up the transport container and sealed it shut with the agitator inside while she all but sprinted back to the airlock.

Almost leaping into the decontamination chamber the moment the door back into the airlock opened, Rosalind checked one last time to ensure the agitator was completely sealed in the transport container. She let out a sigh of relief when the decontamination process began, and, keeping the transport container held tightly against her chest, slowly spun around in the chamber to ensure she, within her thick hazard suit, got fully decontaminated. When the decontamination sequence ended, she walked through the rest of the airlock and to the door back into the reactor control room. She waved at Janet with one hand to let her know she was alright. Relieved, Janet waved back, and then turned to Allie to tell her to open the airlock door to let Rosalind back into the reactor control room. She gave her a short nod and entered the command to open the doors. Taking in and letting out a deep breath, Rosalind resisted the urge to squeal in excitement; the danger was, at least for the moment, gone and the agitator was, officially, safely in their possession. She quickly approached Allie and Janet at the master computer terminal and put the transport container back in its bag once she reached them. Still uncomfortable with the young physicist having been within the reactor room, Allie observed her for a few minutes. Satisfied Rosalind could make it back to the Institute with them under her own power, Allie stood up, logged out of the master computer, and began up towards the stairs out of the reactor control room, Rosalind and Janet no more than a few paces behind her.

“The Courser will be waiting for us at the elevator back up to the ground level, and once there we’ll be back to the Institute in a flash,” Allie told them when they left the room, the first and second generation synth escorts following them. “Pun sort of intended,” She looked to Rosalind. “Are you alright?”

Rosalind shrugged. “Wasn’t what I planned on doing today, but I don’t feel terrible. Why?”

“Because I normally wouldn’t advise sticking your hands into strange fusion reactors,” Allie pointedly replied, her tone lightening a little the closer they got to the top of the stairs and to the corridor leading back to the elevator. “But I suppose this is the exception.”

Janet chuckled. “It really is.”

“You’re right,” Rosalind agreed with a slightly mischievous glint in her eyes when she looked back at Allie. “And who’s joking in the face of mortal danger now?”

The Prydwen
November the 23rd, 2288
21:11

A light but painful burning sensation. The sharp clinking and clacking of metal floors.

Screaming.

When her eyes opened, everything was hazy, and, startling her, she realised she was the one who had screamed. Her vision fading in and out, Dr. Madison Li tried to calm down. A few seconds later, everything was quiet apart from the hollow sounds of steel floors. Slowly sitting up, realising, to her shock, she had been left on a bed, she could have sworn, for a moment, the clocks had rewound, and she was once again in the Citadel. Her mind was almost certain of it when her vision focused and, out of the corners of her eyes, she saw a young woman holding her knees to her chest and badly shaking on the other side of the room. The feeling didn’t last. The second the shaking young woman saw she was also conscious, she all but ran across the room to sit down next to her, terror taking over her being. Madison tried to keep herself calm but, seeing the girl sitting across from her and still shaking was Jacqueline Spencer, couldn’t and stood up suddenly, starting to pace. Catching a glimpse of her reflexion in the mirror, she paused, crossing her arms in an attempt to make her hands stop trembling. The first thing she noticed was the dirt and dust all over her shoes, tights, skirt, and blouse. The second thing she noticed was the faint chemical burn on her right cheek. Suppose that explains the… Hearing harsh sounds on the steel floors and noise seeping in from beyond a door she, when she turned around, realised had been behind her and, aggravatingly, was locked from the outside when she tried to unlock it, fear began to set in again.

“f*ck!” Madison swore under her breath when her left hand briefly got caught trying to pry the door open. “No. This cannot –”

“I don’t think I’ve ever heard you say…” Jacqueline stopped, albeit quite weakly, laughing when her mentor turned around. “Dr. Li?” She whispered when she saw the anxiety in the older woman’s movements and the fear on her face. “What’s going on? Where…where are we?”

“I’m…” Madison sighed, sitting back down beside the seventeen year old when she saw how frightened she was. “Well, honestly, I’m not sure I want to know.”

Jacqueline bit her lip. “Are we…are we going to die?”

“What?” Madison said, about to say more only to be startled when the seventeen year old latched onto her, starting to cry. “Jacqueline, I –”

“Good. You’re both conscious again.”

Biting back the urge to start swearing again when she turned towards the door, the head of Institute Advanced Systems suddenly felt rather sick when she realised she either hadn’t heard the door open or, worse, was so disoriented she couldn’t have noticed it until it had already swung open. Seeing the two men in the doorway only made the feeling worse. Though the taller of the two men had since gone bald, she recognised his face instantly. Very nearly the same, much to her disdain, could be said of shorter of the two men who, while far from bald, had the same arrogant frown etched onto his face while his eyes critically looked over her and her most unlikely protégé. Unsure of what else to do, Madison awkwardly wrapped an arm loosely around Jacqueline, who shifted slightly but still clung onto her for dear life. The taller man stepped into the room first, followed by the shorter man who, a tablet in hand, closed the doors behind them and locked them from the outside. Trying to keep her breathing as calm and steady as possible, if not for her own sake but for Jacqueline’s, Madison waited for either of the two men to say something. When they didn’t, irritation rising in her chest, she did:

“Alright, I’ll play your game. What the hell is going on, Marshall?”

“You’re the scientist,” Quinlan said coldly. “Why do you think you’re here?”

“Well, let’s see,” Madison dryly replied, seething when she looked between him and Aaron Cade. “A Brotherhood Of Steel airship arrives in the Commonwealth, I wake up in a cramped room with my protégé and a chemical burn on my cheek, and, now, you walk through the door.”

“You resisted retrieval too much, Dr. Li. Our team must have used far more anaesthetic than was necessary to ensure you could be safely transported to the Prydwen with your, as you call her, protégé, who did not resist much as she fell unconscious quite quickly,” Cade informed her, uncomfortable with the conversation. “I apologise for the mishap. Rest assured, we’ll treat you as soon as this discussion is over. The burn is only a minor, first degree chemical burn. It’ll heal.”

“Whether or not it’s a minor injury isn’t the point,” She snapped. “It’s the –”

“Dr. Li, calm down,” Quinlan ordered, making no attempt to hide his frustration. “It may not have been the smoothest way to do so, but we have saved not only your life but the life of your young protégé,” He sympathetically looked to her. “Jacqueline, is it not?”

The seventeen year old swallowed hard. “How do you know my name?”

“We’ve been watching you and Dr. Li for some time,” Quinlan said, raising an eyebrow when she gaped at him in disbelief. “Did you think no one would attempt to rescue you or Dr. Li from the Institute?”

Jacqueline scowled. “Did you think we might be there for a good f*cking reason?” She shouted, then, fear taking over her again, looking away, still clinging to her mentor.

Quinlan pursed his lips. “Dr. Li, please,” He said flatly. “Control her.”

“If she says something I disagree with, then I’ll correct her,” Madison said, her eyes narrowing when she looked between him and Cade. “I should have known it was just a matter of time before your people would track me down,” She sighed. “I’ve been looking over my shoulder for almost a decade, waiting for you to send someone to kill me.”

“Kill you?” Quinlan repeated. “Why would we want you dead?”

“You and I both know why,” She said sharply, gently prying Jacqueline off her to stand up and walk over to be toe to toe with him. “If I recall, you, Marshall, were one of the people who objected to Lyons letting me go because you thought I knew too much.”

“I did object,” He said, closing what he had been looking at on his tablet and tucking it under his arm. “You never truly appreciated what we did for you. Neither did the civilian medical student who you –”

“You made Annette sign a contract giving away her freedom of movement in exchange for the Brotherhood tracking down her father for, if I’m remembering what Lyons said correctly, the sake of endearing me to the Brotherhood,” Madison cut across him, raising a finger to silence him. “You also,” She said with a resentful look to Cade. “Did just about nothing after Keith raped her on three separate occasions, which were a major factor in Annette’s suicide attempt after all of you let James be killed.”

Cade took a small step back, uncomfortably rubbing at his neck. “Teagan’s…advances on Dr. Davis were wrong, but he has since changed a great deal and, while I understand how badly it impacted her, she did not resist much which –"

“She was a nineteen year old girl who had spent her entire life in a Vault, safely tucked away from this awful world!” Madison snapped. “She was in one of the most vulnerable states a person could be in, and all of you – but especially him – took advantage of her being, then, quiet, well mannered, and naïve! That, however, is not the point,” She lowered her voice when she noticed Jacqueline was badly shaking again. “Why the hell did you want me back, and why did you feel the best course of action to do so was to abduct me and my protégé?”

“The Brotherhood valued your presence, and we’d like you to pick up where you left off on some of your work with us,” Quinlan said, masking his irritation. “Notwithstanding, you need to stop working for the enemy, and come work with us.”

“Ah, there’s the old Brotherhood spirit,” Madison said wryly. “I’d almost forgotten how much I missed the intimidation and the threats.”

“Dr. Li,” Cade intervened. “We won’t be separating you or your protégé, but you need to calm down.”

“I’ll calm down when I know neither my life nor hers are in danger,” Madison hissed. “I’ve been down too many bad roads with the Brotherhood before, and I am not going to make the same mistake again.”

Acadia
November the 26th, 2288
8:02

When the place called Acadia turned out to be built in and around a pre-War astronomical observatory, they had anticipated it would be bustling with scientists, something which Preston had found promising, remembering the parents of the missing girl had more than once mentioned her love for science.

What they had not expected was a small town populated entirely by synths.

The warnings of his parents now all too clear in his mind, having been told from birth to never go to Acadia, Preston tried not to dwell on the possible reasons why they had been so vehement on the matter, why nearly every kid from the Island had been told something similar. Jarring as the revelation of the town’s inhabitants being – supposedly – all synths had been, it did seem, from what little they had been told by its leaders, the runaway Kasumi likely was there. The lack of transparency from the town’s inhabitants, however, had made everything far too difficult and, so, since the first time they had set foot in Acadia, they travelled back and forth from it and Far Harbour, hoping to get anything of use out of the people there. More surprised than he wanted to admit, the people of Far Harbour had been the most forthcoming, something Preston suspected had to do with being one of them himself. One of them. It was a truth he was not comfortable with, and being back on the Island was something he almost wished he could forget or, at least, not be reminded of at seemingly every turn. Knowing things were getting worse for the town he grew up in by the day, the fog relentlessly keeping almost the entire town of seven hundred pressed onto the dock and its immediate edges made the feeling worse. Calling their situation painfully cramped would be putting it lightly, worsening his thoughts. The name for the feeling they inspired was just as bad.

Guilt.

It was then, he supposed, a blessing and a curse for them to have been asked to remain within the walls of Acadia for the past two weeks.

Only a month had he been home, yet, in such a short amount of time, the guilt of having left with no desire to look back remained.

Looking around the table of the surprisingly roomy apartment they had been temporarily given by Acadia’s leaders, Preston set down his breakfast toast and began sipping his water, observing his companions closely. Seeing they were still the same was one of the few things keeping him sane for as much as he was uneasy with it. Humming softly to herself, every so often saying something to herself in her native Russian, Ellie primly drank her coffee and ate her eggs and fruit cup. Seventeen year old Ada, sat in between her father and the detective’s secretary, slowly ate her pancakes and sipped on her orange juice, trying not to squirm, fascinated by everything about the town. Calm and level headed as ever, Derek, having just finished his potatoes, coffee, and water, adjusted his glasses and was reading from some of the documents they had found strewn about the town. Preston closed his eyes for a minute, relieved to be with them and not alone. Yet the comfort in being both safe from the unpredictability of the Island beyond the walls of Acadia and being with others he knew could be trusted waned the more his mind began to wander back towards Far Harbour, only a few hours’ walk from Acadia, and into fears he had not needed to think of since his departure. The fog. The ever tenser relationship between the people of the Island and Far Harbour and the Children Of Atom.

The only consolation, he supposed, was the fact everyone he remembered in town were almost the same as they had been when he left. Allen and his omnipresent aggravation included. It was the warning they had been given by Caitlin Maria Eris – the Mariner, as she preferred to be called, now, he reminded himself – before they left for Acadia again just two weeks prior, however, which left him deeply ill at ease.

“I’ve never been to Acadia, but they seem to be fine with everyone. Rumour has it their leader gave the Children an old nuclear submarine decades ago to live on, which has drawn tons of them to the Island in order to,” She had dramatically waved her fingers in air quotes, the light cast by the bright lamps lining the town making her pale skin almost shimmer. “’Complete divine pilgrimage through Atom’s sacred fog.’ Weird, I know, and also why Allen thinks them rad eaters are the reason the fog’s been so bad the last few years. They’re not. The fog’s been bad because something out there in it wants out, and you and I both know – when something in the fog wants out – it’s not a good thing.”

Shaking himself out, the General of the Minutemen took another few, heavy sips of his water before setting it back down to finish his breakfast toast. The fog. The first scent of it filling his lungs again upon their arrival had been more than enough to tell him it had not changed. Hearing about it and walking through the fog again to get in between the town and Acadia had only confirmed the inclination to be correct. The only difference between then and now was how far the fog had pushed the once bustling and sprawling town. What worried him most was the fact, apparently more and more each year, people were leaving the Island all together for the Commonwealth, some of them making it and some of them disappearing at sea. Sickened by the thought of what some of their fates could have been, Preston shoved it aside to focus on finishing his breakfast, even more so when he noticed Ada had finished hers and Ellie, too, was almost done. Grounding himself in the moment seeming to help, he focused in on it, superseding his wandering thoughts with making note of every sensation and everything surrounding him. He only startled when, taking the last few bites of his toast, a knock reverberated off the door into the apartment before being opened. When he turned around, he quickly finished his toast and took a few sips of his water, seeing it to be Acadia’s two leaders entering the apartment.

“I do hope we are not being intrusive,” The first of them said in his low, calm voice. “Faraday and I have finally come to a decision on whether or not to allow you to speak with and see Miss Kasumi Nakano, and, as such, have come to inform you of it.”

“Yes, Dima, you are correct,” Faraday agreed, dusting off his lab coat. “Miss Kasumi is in quite the fragile state, as you can imagine,” He said, walking towards where Preston, Ada, Derek, and Ellie were sat at the small kitchen table. “Forgive us for being trepidatious on the matter.”

“You care about her mental health, it’s admirable,” Derek said mildly. “But I hope you understand why we are here and why we have a lot of questions for you.”

“Of course,” Dima said with a short nod. “What do you wish to know?”

“What are you?” Ada burst out, unable to contain herself. “As a synth, that is!”

Dima laughed. “I am an early synth designed by the Institute,” He replied, shaking his head when he saw Derek send his daughter a sharp look. “Please, it is alright. Her questions do not offend me. Actually, I quite appreciate her curiosity.”

“I also appreciate her curiosity, but,” Derek sighed, looking back at his youngest. “You know me, Ada. I’m sorry if I’ve been short with you since arriving in –”

“It’s okay,” Ada said, hugging him. “You care a lot about manners.”

Derek smiled when she let him go, affectionately ruffling her hair. “Old habits die hard, and, I suspect, my years in the Brotherhood are part of it.”

“The Brotherhood?” Dima said, surprised. “Judging by the reputation your leaders have, I must ask –”

“I departed from the Brotherhood several years ago, you needn’t worry,” Derek said calmly. “Now. You were saying?”

“Of course,” Dima said, looking between him, Ada, Preston, and Ellie again. “I was an early Institute experiment, one of their first to be capable of independent thinking and judgement.”

Ellie frowned. “Are you sure you’re the only one like you?”

Dima stepped back, eyes widening. “Why do you ask?”

“For now, you don’t need to worry about it,” Ellie said. Because if you’re lying and you know of Nick and how similar the two of you look, then what else could you be hiding? “I’m just curious.”

“I can hardly blame you for it. Oh! I almost forgot why we came to speak with you. Kasumi,” Dima paused, thinking hard. “She is usually working in the basem*nt of the main building, whenever you wish to see her but, please, be gentle with her. She’s facing the possibility of her entire life being a lie, and, here, she has a chance to live freely without pretending to be something else.”

“She has a family who miss her and know she’s their daughter,” Preston politely disagreed with a solemn shake of his head. “She’s a teenager, and probably having an identity crisis. She needs support, and her family.”

“She will decide who her family is on her own,” Dima firmly replied. “But I respect your compassion. At least, your heart is in the right place.”

Diamond City
December the 1st, 2288
14:41

“Wish we’d been able to try and retrieve the bug I had Nora place in McDonough’s office a few months ago,” Piper irritably remarked, dropping a massive crate of files onto the floor of her office and sitting down in front of it with a scowl. “At the very least, we’d probably have at least something to humiliate him with.”

MacCready laughed when he sat down across from her on the floor, even more so when Piper briefly scowled at him. Reaching over the crate, Piper wacked him upside the head with one of the files she pulled out. Holding onto his hat so she couldn’t knock it off his head, he dodged out of the way just before she could smack him with a pebble she threw at his head. Piper rolled her eyes but grinned when he looked back up, laughing herself after he realised she wasn’t going to try and keep messing with him. Stretching out her arms, she hopped up to her feet and quickly ran up to her loft to grab her notebook and pen. With a smirk, she then jumped over to and slid down the banister back into the main floor of her office. MacCready half sarcastically clapped when she slid off and took a dramatic bow, and started laughing again when she sashayed back over to where she had left the crate of files. Sitting back down in front of the crate and across from him, Piper flipped quickly through her notebook to the first free page and clicked on her pen, testing the ink flow. When she found it to be working, she quickly scrawled down the date and then what, at a glance, was on the first file she pulled out only to scowl at it after she got past the first few filler pages in the file.

“The most interesting thing I’ve got on McDonough, now, came from Hanco*ck,” Piper said, taking out another file and handing it to MacCready. “He’s not the most reliable source, but, this time, I think he’s given me something I can actually publish.”

“Looks like it,” MacCready said, raising an eyebrow when he reached some of the notes towards the back of the file. “I’m not surprised McDonough was willing to risk innocent people getting hurt by not letting them in during that insane amount of snowfall in 2286, but it’s still low.”

“What disturbs me the most about it is he left them to potentially die at the hands of a crazy man claiming to be the ‘Last Son Of Atom,’” Piper rolled her eyes. “The man was out of his damn mind, sure, but people still got hurt because of him. Least McDonough could have done was have security deal with him but no, of course he didn't. It’s a miracle the Minutemen were able to drive him out of the area.”

“Also a miracle the man hasn’t been seen since,” MacCready said with a shudder. “Everything I’ve heard about him is terrifying.”

“He also has a lousy fashion sense,” Piper half jokingly added. “Not unlike the Brotherhood, although I’m pretty sure they wouldn’t get along. I’d pay to watch them fight it out, though. Could be interesting. Come to think of it, they have some similarities. Bad fashion sense, self serving nature, weird obsessions. You know, him with wanting to find and use nuclear bombs and them with hoarding technology.”

“Maybe the Brotherhood could use you as their stylist,” MacCready teased. “Between you and the Cats, their power armour could look a lot more interesting.”

“Pretty sure the Cats’ idea of making the Brotherhood’s armour more interesting would involve spray paint, water guns, and paintball, but who knows," Piper shrugged, setting her notebook and pen aside. “I’ve always thought the Cats have the best power armour designs in the Commonwealth. Helps they don’t mind a little mess or a few hairs out of place.”

“Seeing as they seem to enjoy bar fights, I’d be shocked if they cared about things being perfect,” MacCready remarked. “I mean, they also spend half their time with Vadim, and he’s not exactly known for caring about things getting messy or not.”

Piper smirked. “So, does that mean the Dugout is more or less crazy than the Third Rail?”

“Depends on the night,” MacCready replied. “I’d say it was definitely more crazy in the Third Rail when No Nose pulled a gun on and threatened to kill me to try and make me work on her ‘big dig.’”

“Didn’t you say you ended up doing it anyways because Hanco*ck paid you to spy on her?” Piper snickered when he nodded. “How’d that turn out?”

“Pretty well,” MacCready said, handing the file back to her. “Ended up being the catalyst for my current agreement with Hanco*ck. I do odd jobs for him, and he pays me a lot for it. Although some of those odd jobs have been Fahrenheit asking me to babysit him after he does one too many chems or one too many shots because she apparently has a very active social life.”

“Putting those skills of herding drunk people around to use?” Piper teased. “You know, the one you apparently started learning when you were nine.”

MacCready scowled. “I started drinking when I was seven. Are you really surprised me and the hundreds of other kids I lived with in a cave all did things we probably shouldn’t have?”

“No, but I’m still going to tease you for it,” She replied with a falsely innocent smile. “I’ll have you know, I waited until I was thirteen to start drinking.”

“What an accomplishment,” MacCready said dryly. “But here’s the real question: when did you start smoking?”

Piper groaned. “f*ck you, just because I had my first cigarette when I was twelve doesn’t –”

“I waited until I was fourteen,” He said with the same falsely innocent smile she had given him. “Mainly because Lucy made me, but still. I’ll have you know, I won’t let Duncan even think about smoking until he’s at least an adult.”

“Really?” Piper said with a mischievous glint in her eyes. “Make sure you don’t leave any laying around then. I’m pretty sure Annette already knows not to do that, but she also…doesn’t exactly leave any to be laying around.”

MacCready sighed. “She’s been smoking a lot more than before the past few weeks and drinking too. I still feel bad about snapping at her the other night over it. She made herself sick and didn’t seem to care. I…really, I’m worried about her. Have been for the last two, three months really but…”

“I can see why,” Piper said, softening her tone. “Something happen?”

“I think it’s a mix of things, to be honest,” MacCready said, rubbing at his neck. “September was officially ten years since her dad was murdered, and the Brotherhood coming to the Commonwealth has really frightened her. Then there’s the…she seems terrified of hurting me, walked out of the apartment after we had been fighting saying she needed to be alone for a little because everything she touches turns to ash. We went out again last night, and things are fine now but I’m still worried about her.”

“Anyone would be,” Piper said, pushing the crate and files to the side. “You care about her. A lot. I’m sure she knows you do.”

“I just don’t want anything to happen to her,” MacCready hesitated. “She’s lovely. Sure, she can be a bit haughty – not as though I have much room to talk – and is probably more paranoid than I am, but I do care about her a whole heck of a lot. And I think it’s sweet how much Duncan likes her, too. She’s so gentle with him, I really didn’t expect it, but she’ll even braid his hair for him some nights. For as pointy as she can be, I really didn’t think she’d be as soft with kids as she is, but I’m glad she is.”

“Your son approving of her is a good sign for you,” Piper said with a wink. “Considering he means pretty much everything to you.”

“He does, which is why…” MacCready fell silent, anger briefly crossing his face. “Which is why I’m scared of what the gunners might do when they come looking for me again. I don’t care what Hanco*ck says, those guys are so tightly wound you’d think they’re a cult or something, and Winlock and Barnes made it pretty clear they’re out to get me. Realising they haven’t been around Goodneighbour the last few months is really getting to me and…and I’m terrified they’ll do something Duncan.”

“Any parent would be,” Piper said, though her voice darkened. “If they know he exists, you don’t…you don’t think they’d go after him to get to you, do you?”

“I have no idea, which is why it terrifies me,” MacCready said, shaking a little. “Because…because if I lose Duncan I…I don’t think I’ll even know what to do anymore.”

Chapter 31: Something Glowing

Chapter Text

The Institute
December the 3rd, 2288
5:53

Sudden, early morning meetings were a rarity for the Institute Directorate yet, for once, they all knew precisely why one had been called.

Ten days of concern. Ten days of suspicion.

Ten days since the disappearance of the head of Institute Advanced Systems and her protégé during what should have been a routine visit home for the young protégé.

Already a somewhat anxious man, seeing the faintest signs of worry in the face of the Director left Dr. Clayton Holdren feeling sick as he sat down, his hands clammy and shaky in his lap while he watched his colleagues come into the Directorate’s meeting room. He was far from the only one. Dr. Allison Filmore, partly due to exhaustion from tending to her baby daughter’s cold most of the night and partly due to the anxiety of her foster daughter going missing, looked not only distressed but slightly dishevelled. For someone who put a great deal of energy into keeping herself all but perfectly put together, seeing her so visibly worried about anything was unusual. Even the usually content if not upbeat Dr. Alan Binet seemed to be quite troubled by being called to such an early meeting, a million questions racing through his mind. Only Dr. Alana Secord seemed to be the same as ever; calm, methodical, and making no indication of her thoughts in her gait or countenance. It was Dr. Evan Watson, however, who seemed the most ready for the meeting to commence, disquieted by the look on the face of the Director, well aware of how difficult it was to truly unnerve his friend and close colleague and thus startled by the worry in his face. When the doors were finally shut and locked, he took a glance at his friend’s father, and the feeling only worsened when he saw Nathaniel, too, seemed as troubled as Shaun.

“Given the state of things, I am sure you all know why you’re here,” Shaun said, pausing when he briefly looked at the open file in front of him. “As you’re all well aware, ten days ago, Dr. Li and Miss Spencer disappeared during one of Miss Spencer’s visits home. Our intelligence has finally determined what happened. Unfortunately, it is profoundly unlucky – for them and for us – as well as deeply disturbing. Dr. Secord, if you would.”

“Due to a credible identification of a missing third generation synth unit, designation B2-19, on the road about fifteen miles south of University Point, Courser X6-88 briefly left the town to retrieve the unit,” Alana said, a bit of annoyance slipping into her voice. “B2-19 was returned and reset and has returned to cleaning duties. However, in this time, Dr. Li and Miss Spencer arrived a few minutes early on the outskirts of University Point for Miss Spencer’s visit home. While never a problem before, even when X6-88, since the unit’s postage, has been away from University Point when they arrive, Dr. Li and Miss Spencer were ambushed by the Brotherhood Of Steel.”

Clayton paled. “Are they…were they killed?”

“No,” Alana said shortly. “They were abducted.”

Silence.

“How was this allowed to happen?” Evan said sceptically. “Are we certain Dr. Li didn’t plan this, given her history with the Brotherhood?”

“We are,” Alana frigidly replied. “After careful examination of the circ*mstances and after managing to get watchers close enough to the Brotherhood’s airship, called the Prydwen, to record, we learnt, from a discussion on one of the open air decks between two of the Brotherhood’s presumed leaders, they planned to abduct Dr. Li and Miss Spencer. Unfortunately, even knowing this, we can’t get anything closer to them than the watchers without risking their lives. If we went in there with Coursers, there’s a massive chance the Brotherhood would kill both of them and the Courser.”

Evan raised an eyebrow. “What about the Relay? Is there any chance we could use the Relay to safely return them to the Institute since we know their approximate location?”

“The Relay works by knowing the precise location down to the exact coordinate it will either take someone to or retrieve them from,” Allie told him. “We could easily miss them if we tried to Relay them back to the Institute, especially considering we still don’t know where – either on board their airship or somewhere in their compound at the airport – they’re keeping Madison and Jacq.”

“Dr. Filmore is correct,” Shaun said, looking resigned to the thought. “We also can’t risk revealing anything about our capacities the Brotherhood don’t already know about. The Relay is, arguably, our biggest secret, and keeping knowledge of it from the Brotherhood is of paramount importance. As for Dr. Li,” He sent Evan and Alana a pointed look. “She would never betray the Institute. The Brotherhood have done enough damage to her and her life before this, and she would never do or give anything to them willingly.”

Evan nodded. “Of course. I only raised the question to ensure we covered all possibilities.”

“Understandable,” Nate mildly commented. “Still, Dr. Li is a woman of strong will and character, and to suggest otherwise…well, I certainly wouldn’t do so to her face.”

“The…that out of the way, there may be a way to get Dr. Li and Miss Spencer back without risking their lives or revealing our capacities, though it does rely on…some of the other groups above ground,” Clayton said, uncomfortable with the idea. “Our intelligence has noted a group of people – a gang, really – calling themselves ‘the Atom Cats.’ They’re openly adversarial with the Brotherhood and defended the Warwick farm from the Brotherhood.”

Alana considered that. “If we were to leak it to them, through R2-32, say ‘a woman and her daughter’ were kidnapped by the Brotherhood due to their scientific prowess, we could potentially use them to cause enough of a commotion to allow Dr. Li and Miss Spencer to escape with one or two of them safely escorting them to a safe location, though ideally back to University Point.”

“If we have a Courser waiting at the location they decide to take them to, University Point or not, they’ll be able to safely use the Relay to return to the Institute without the Brotherhood finding out where they went or how they got there,” Allie paused. “I’m not overly fond of having to rely on people above ground with such a sensitive operation. Are you sure we can’t get closer to them – safely, of course – with anything other than the watchers?”

“Yes. Anything else would be too risky for us and for them,” Alana shook her head. “If it were as easy as sending a Courser in, we wouldn’t be having this discussion.”

Alan’s face fell. “Could we potentially sneak a Courser in, disguised as a high ranking member of the Brotherhood, to escort them out of sight and use the Relay to get them back?”

“I thought of doing that,” Alana admitted. “Unfortunately, that wouldn’t work either. The Brotherhood keep tabs on every single person who enters or exits their base at the former Boston Logan International Airport. They aren’t simple about it either. They use retinal and DNA scans on everyone coming in and out of their facilities, and, even if we could sneak a Courser in, we likely couldn’t sneak one out due to the noise and electromagnetic interference the Relay causes. Also, DNA scans are one of the few things even we couldn’t fool with or without a Courser. DNA is one of the few things that does not lie, and, as I’m sure Dr. Holdren can attest, cannot lie.”

“She’s correct,” Clayton said, glancing down at his hands. “That’s why, before the War, DNA was the gold standard in forensics and, as an example, key to murder convictions.”

“It’s settled then,” Allie said, tiredly running a hand through her hair. “We have R2-32 approach these ‘Atom Cats’ and manipulate them into getting Madison and Jacq to safe harbour, at which point they can be relayed back to the Institute. Still…what a mess.”

“Quite so,” Alan said sadly. “This is incredibly disturbing on the part of the Brotherhood. I had thought we had a decent handle on them, especially after learning what fate, by them, befell Dr. Zimmer and S3-47. Apparently not.”

“They certainly won’t take us by surprise again, after Dr. Li and Miss Spencer are safely back in the Institute,” Nate said, a threat on the edge of his voice. “As Dr. Filmore said, I’d prefer not to have to rely on non-Institute agents on the surface, but it seems most prudent to use these ‘Atom Cats.’ If nothing else, it’ll give us better insight into them in the process of freeing Dr. Li and Miss Spencer. They could be useful beyond this, though that remains to be seen.”

“If they’re willing to threaten and fight the Brotherhood off the Warwick farm with no incentive, they’d probably be willing to do something to help them if asked,” Clayton said, nervously wringing his hands in and of each other again. “I try not to think much about what happens up there, it’s too upsetting, really, but, given the amount of training I’m sure Brotherhood field operatives go through, the fact a handful of individuals were able to fight them off says a lot about what they’re able to do. It might take…longer than any of us would like, but I think it’s a pretty safe bet they can get Dr. Li and Jacqueline out safe.”

“I won’t be putting any projection above a sixty percent chance of success at this endeavour without seeing it,” Evan warned him. “This might look optimistic, but the Brotherhood are likely to not provide many opportunities where even an attempt at escape could be made by them, with outside help or without it.”

“Then we’ll reassess how to bring them safely back to the Institute when and if we reach that point,” Shaun said calmly. “Ideally, these ‘Atom Cats’ will cause sufficient enough of a commotion to give Dr. Li and Miss Spencer the opportunity and time to escape. For now,” He turned to Alana. “Shift the priorities of our watchers to the former airport. Report any visual confirmation of either Dr. Li or Miss Spencer immediately and dispatch a Courser to give R2-32 its new orders.”

Alana shortly nodded. “Understood.”

“Dr. Binet, until Phase Three is completed, keep synth production as close to zero as possible to conserve power. I’m sure Dr. Secord will inform you if she needs Coursers examined ahead of any surface…issues, per usual,” Shaun looked to Clayton. “While I understand Bioscience is in the midst of the first round of human cybernetics trials, I am also going to ask you to review the files of Dr. Li and Miss Spencer alongside Dr. Volkert, as they are likely not going to be in the best of health when they return from this ordeal.”

“Of course,” Clayton said quickly. “I’ll get started on that right away.”

“Dr. Watson, as you’ll remain the acting head of Advanced Systems until Dr. Li returns, you will be overseeing the analysis and testing of the beryllium agitator Dr. Filmore, Dr. Thompson, and Dr. Orman retrieved,” Shaun said, his voice lightening considerably. “I’m rather impressed,” He said, turning to Allie. “By both how efficiently and cleanly the retrieval and bringing of the agitator to the Institute went. Though I’ll await further information from your Division and Advanced Systems, this seems to have put Phase Three on track immensely well.”

“I certainly hope it’ll remain that way,” Allie said with a faint smile. “But for now,” She said, her voice darkening. “We have to address this. Phase Three may be critical but this…Madison and Jacq need to be able to not only come home but come home safely. Until then, we’ll have to treat this as the priority.”

“Yes,” Nate said, probing his forehead in exhaustion. “Yes, we must.”

Diamond City
December the 9th, 2288
1:01

“So, I tell you, I was crossing a river wearing nothing but a smile when out comes the most dangerous creature, so dangerous it was the most fearsome of sea creatures!” Vadim declared, hopping up onto the counter in front of the bar and posing triumphantly. “The mirelurk!”

“A normal mirelurk? Not even with those razor sharp things on the back? Come on, Vadim, those are two out of ten points of danger tops. Now, if you want to talk about a really deadly mirelurk, why don’t I tell you about the mirelurk hunter up near Salem that tore my buddy’s pack brahmin to shreds.”

Jovial as ever, Vadim jumped down from the counter and began clapping, waving at the man who had spoken to say more. Cait cheered and reached over to smack her palms against his before nearly falling back over the barstool she had been sat on. Nonchalantly sipping her beer next to the former cage fighter, Lissy started laughing, beer in one hand and fidgeting with her glasses with the other. Piper looped an arm around her wife and rested her head on her right shoulder, booing at Yefim for trying to settle people down while trying not to laugh with Lissy. Still trying to win a bet against Vadim, Lana Marie, unlike her sister and her sister’s wife, was sat calmly on the floor, legs crossed, and a tray of drinks balanced perfectly on her head while she dealt cards for several patrons trying (and failing) to win at Texas Hold ‘Em Poker. Not entirely sure she knew the rules herself, Lana Marie simply kept watch, dealing cards, and keeping the tray from falling off her head, checking the time every so often to see how much longer she had to do so to win the bet. Unsurprisingly the calmest of them all was Travis, who was sat on the Cait’s right, only nervously glancing over at Piper and Lissy every so often to make sure they weren’t encouraging something they shouldn’t have been. Much more animated than him was Scarlett, once again behind the bar with Vadim and relieved to have another few nights off from cleaning and serving duties.

“Alright, I give you the mirelurk hunters. Those are scary and no joke,” Vadim pulled out a kitchen rag and began waving it. “I surrender, I surrender. But I have more stories of my own. You want to hear about Scarlett’s heroin –”

“Heroism,” She amended, her olive skin blushing nearly as red as her name. “I wasn’t particularly heroic in rescuing you, Vadim. I barely did anything.”

“You kept shooting at the raiders after you got shot in the leg,” Lissy reminded her with a shrug. “You also walked pretty much the entire way back to Diamond City. Sure Vadim and Travis were helping keep you from falling over at a couple spots, but you were basically fine. A few bullets to the legs or arms aren’t usually a big deal.”

“She’s talking from experience,” Lana Marie almost wistfully remarked. “Emmett learnt to shoot on BB guns and shot her ‘by accident’ in the knees several times.”

“Those weren’t real bullets, they don’t count,” Lissy said with a dismissive wave of her free hand. “Piper knows,” She said, affectionately kissing her wife. “You’ve been shot at a couple of times even in town.”

“A few years ago, and no one dares try it anymore,” Piper smirked. “If they know what’s good for them.”

“When did you get shot?” Travis nervously asked. “I don’t recall you getting hit when we were rescuing Vadim.”

“A few stray bullets scraped my jacket and shoes, but, you’re right, no actual hits,” Lissy rolled her eyes. “Most of them were when I was a teenager. We were learning how to shoot in school – which was run by the Brotherhood – and things could get messy. Pretty sure most of them were accidents, but there were a few times when we were actually trying to see how many shots it would take to get through someone’s boots.”

“Sure but I preferred the times we weren't using real weapons. Paintball as an ‘aim game’ was superior to actual target practise,” Lana Marie said, checking the time. “I have to get two more minutes, Vadim, then you owe me three hundred caps.”

He awkwardly chuckled. “I am getting nervous. But back to Scarlett!” He said, setting his hands on her shoulders. “This woman was – almost – completely fine after getting shot in the leg after wrapping the little hole up with her scarf and taking some painkiller!”

“Dr. Sun had to remove the bullet,” Scarlett said, ducking her head in embarrassment. “He wasn’t very happy about the way we handled it on the way back, either.”

“He does not know fun,” Vadim said, letting her go to dust his hands off and set down the kitchen rag. “I know fun, though. Why else do customers come to this nice bar?”

“To avoid Henry Cooke making an ass of himself at the Taphouse?” Piper half jokingly offered. “He nearly threw me out because I got in an argument with Nelson Latimer. Who cares Nelson’s dad is stupid rich? He got all those caps from a tag team robbery in back in ’67.”

“Wait what?” Travis exclaimed, gaping at her. “How the hell do you know?”

“A Missus Darcy Pembroke,” Piper said, taking a folded up photograph out of one of her coat pockets. “I gave her about fifty caps and a couple of bottles of wine – she was sloppy drunk at this point – and she gave me this. Took it from Paul because she was pissed at him and he’s too busy fighting with his former best friend Cookie-Cooke to notice it’s gone.”

Vadim took the photograph from her, his eyes widening when he began to examine it.

“I’ve seen that warehouse, in Quincy,” He let out a long, low whistle. “You’ve struck gold, Piper!” He said, clapping after he handed the photograph back to her. “You got two very powerful people in one very nasty scheme.”

“Marowski’s fall as a crime boss happened because of them,” Piper said, a bit too cheerful when she took a few shots of Bobrov’s Best Moonshine from Vadim. “Pretty sure he spends most of his time sulking in Goodneighbour about his chems not selling for as much as they used to.”

Scarlett shuddered. “Please tell me you’re not going to publish that.”

“I’m not going to publish this?” Piper said, whipping around in her chair and very nearly making her wife fall over, dizzy from being moved with her, in the process. “Are you kidding? Scarlett, this is major news! No one will ever have to take sh*t from Malcolm Latimer or Henry Cooke again once they know the two of them were two of the three people responsible for the insane Quincy warehouse robbery that sunk the Steven Marowski! It’s not like Marowski can do sh*t to anyone these days, definitely not in Diamond City, but these guys are assholes, Scarlett, and deserve to get knocked down a peg. I'm just bidding my time until the perfect moment to strike them with it comes about. Then, they'll be knocked down peg by peg.”

“Or by two, or three,” Lissy said a bit too cheerfully. “Not like Paul can be knocked down much further.”

Travis frowned. “You know, the more you talk, the less people like you.”

Lissy shrugged. “I can’t wait to see the look on Cooke’s face,” She snickered. “Guess he’ll learn to not stick his –”

“It’s been four minutes, she’s well over the last two she needed, so she wins!” Scarlett suddenly burst out, looking at the time, gasping, and, leaning over the bar, down at Lana Marie. “You can take the tray off. And, please, give it to me. I’d like to take those shots.”

Vadim chuckled. “I am impressed,” He said, rummaging around for a few bags of caps. “I know too few people who can balance much, even less on the head.”

“I learnt how to do it because I’d get bored at school,” Lana Marie admitted, smiling when he came out from around the bar with the caps. “Started with balancing a pencil on my head, turned to balancing multiple books on my head while walking. Turns out, you can get pretty good at the strangest things if you do them enough.”

“Well, it has impressed me lapochka,” He said, setting the bags atop her head. “Now,” He said, turning back to the rest of the bar. “Who wants to hear another story?”

“As long as Piper won’t get any ideas from it,” Scarlett said, sending her a dark look. “You only want to knock Latimer and Cooke over because they sided with McDonough kicking you out of his office for telling Geneva to shut up after being passive aggressive to her for months.”

“I did, because it’s true,” Piper muttered. “Geneva’s a shallow bitch who plays fake nice to get ahead.”

“Well, let me tell everyone the true story of how I won this celebrious establishment from its previous owner!” Vadim declared, returning to pouring drinks behind the counter. “Now, of course, this is the place I put heart into, but my heart goes to our favourite radio host!” He leaned across the counter to kiss Travis’ cheek. “If I die, the bar is his.”

“Please don’t die,” Travis gasped. “Don’t joke about it either!”

“Alright, no more, death is a sad subject anyways,” Vadim let him go to hand him a glass of sparkling water. “I know alcohol is not your favourite,” He teasingly whispered. “Have the bubble vodka of virgins.”

Travis blushed. “Thanks for keeping my cover,” He whispered back.

Vadim winked. “So!” He said, clapping to get the attention of the rest of the bar’s patrons. “The previous owner, I did not kill him. You all have heard me joke before, say ‘I killed a man for this bar!’ but know it is a joke. The real story is much more funny. But he is dead.”

“Oh, dear,” Scarlett sighed, beginning to mix drinks. “Here we go…”

“The two of us, you see, got so drunk one night,” Vadim said, laughing a bit at the memory. “He challenges me to fight a Yao Guai with my bare hands and kill it with no more than a knife. So, we go out, stalk the mutated, freaky grizzlies for hours, camouflaged only in mud and leaves! Slowly, I wait until the mutated freak lies down to sleep, and then I come up on him from his behind, and grab onto his two gigantic globes of shame to –”

“You tore a…” Scarlett gagged. “You killed a…by stabbing and cutting open its ass?”

Vadim grinned. “The bar’s previous owner was not so smart,” He said, tapping his head. “He said he would grab the mutated freak from the front and stab its mouth shut. I was quicker. Somehow his head came off. I think he was dead before then, might have died of a heart attack but, if you ask me, it was embarrassment at attacking from the stupid direction.”

“Think I’d have a heart attack…” Travis hummed to himself, suddenly stopping. “The amount of times I have played that song in the last week,” He paused, suddenly feeling embarrassed. “So…maybe I got it stuck in my own head.”

“It is a good song,” Vadim said, leaning over to elbow Piper. “You can publish the story of how I got the Dugout, too. A fun story, if you will.”

“You know what, Vadim?” She said, her eyes twinkling with mischief. “I think I will.”

“You better,” Vadim said, playfully snapping his fingers in front of her face. “And, I have been asked to say, Scarlett insisted I tell everyone, you needn’t worry about being at risk for knowing me. I have cut ties with anyone who might try to kill me over debts.”

“I’m still not comfortable with you making light of them kidnapping you,” Travis said, taking a moment to sip on his ‘virgin bubbled vodka.’ “Please don’t make me worry about you like that again.”

“Really don’t,” Scarlett said. “Seeing your boyfriend have a panic attack about you trying to help him feel good about himself was not amusing.”

“All is over and well now,” Vadim assured her, leaning across the counter toward Travis. “You are the first to know everything in my life now. Other than me, of course.”

Travis smiled. “Appreciate it. Mine is pretty boring, though, so you’ve always got a lead on mine.”

“You’re far from boring,” Vadim said with a faint smirk. “But let’s keep some things between us, yes?”

“Always,” Travis replied, setting down his drink. “Just don’t tell me if you kill a man for his bar again.”

“You won’t have to be told,” Vadim laughingly teased. “It’ll have been your idea.”

Travis shrugged, laughing a bit himself. “Maybe it will. It’ll have to depend on the day.”

Piper snickered. “The day and what’s on the radio, if it’s any indication of your mood, that is.”

“Careful, Piper,” Travis said with a half hearted scowl. “If you ever want an on air interview, then I’d be a little nicer.”

“Don’t worry, song boy,” Piper replied with a tip of her hat. “We’ll cross the bridge out there when we get to it.”

The Prydwen
December the 15th, 2288
20:02

“I’m sorry to have had to separate you and your protégé, but it had to be done. As you’ve refused to speak to anyone else, I should think you’d be willing to answer to me, Dr. Li.”

Hearing the door into the small room she had been given aboard the Prydwen creak open, Dr. Madison Li narrowed her eyes, glancing up from where she had been standing in front of a small mirror on the door into the equally small bathroom, brushing out her hair. She made no attempt to acknowledge his presence, and instead kept brushing out her still damp hair while doing her best to ignore his reflexion and the fact he was standing no more than a metre behind her. Never thought I’d see the day I missed Lyons being the leader of the Brotherhood. Irritated, she tried to keep her mind busy but found the thoughts and memories flooding back even worse than staying focused on the immediate present. Left alone with two of the only things to do being to sleep or to review her old notes from the Citadel on the computer terminal atop the desk crammed into one corner of the room, more than a little best left forgotten had been dredged back up. The Enclave’s attack on Project Purity. James’ murder. Janice’s murder. Garza’s death. Annette’s suicide attempt. Realising she had been right about the attack having been preventable had the Brotherhood taken the threat seriously, something which had become all too clear after reviewing the footage. Lyons’ half hearted apologies. Being the one to direct Sarah’s team from the Citadel to reclaim the purifier, and having to guide her through the activation process after the Enclave had flooded the room with radiation by mistake in their attempts to activate the purifier. Sarah’s last transmission. Having to, Annette sitting next to her as the only other person in the room with intimate knowledge on Project Purity, initiate contingency procedures.

“System,” Static had cut through the voice of Sentinel Sarah Jeannette Lyons as it came through the transmission. “System is nom…”

Nothing. No static but no noise.

“Lock the doors.”

“Dr. Li, what –”

“Lock the doors, Quinlan, lock the doors.”

“Is she…did she…”

“Is she dead? I…I don’t know, Annie. I don’t know.”

A lie. The three simple words ‘I don’t know,’ had been a lie and, much as she had little stomach for lying, it had been better than scaring the already fragile twenty one year old who, a year before to the day, had just lost her father in nearly the same location. At the site of Project Purity. At the Jefferson Memorial. Her hands tightening around her hair, Madison closed her eyes, for a few seconds, trying to keep herself calm. Jacqueline was not Annette; she was not as naïve to the world as Annette had been nor had she been long suffering at the hands of the Brotherhood. Yet it felt so similar. Trying not to dwell on the almost maternal drive to protect Jacqueline being the same as it had been to protect Annette, Madison let out a tired sigh when she realised the man in the doorway would not be leaving. Boy, she corrected herself. The reminder only angered her more. He was no more than a few years older than Jacqueline but, in every way, it seemed, nothing like her; where Jacq was a rational and well spoken young woman, he was a forceful and unreasonable young man. He had to be, to have come to the conclusion abduction was a reasonable thing to do, if not to her but then to Jacqueline. Feeling sick at the thought of what Gerald might be going through or doing in, she was sure, panic, she tried not to dwell on it either, reminding herself Jacq would be alright; she was clever, and, just as much, knew when to listen and, she was sure, what she had warned her of shortly before they were separated would be something she more than listened to.

No matter how nice they seem or much they try to make you feel comfortable, don’t forget they’re Brotherhood. I’ve never trusted them. Be careful what you tell them.

Jacq could handle herself. She must have had to in order to keep her life together and her father from completely falling apart under the weight of his own anxieties.

As uneasy as it made her, however, she was well aware she would feel better if she were the one ensuring the safety of her most unlikely protégé.

“There’s no getting rid of you, is there?” Madison finally turned around and, frowning, sat down at the desk chair when he stepped in and closed the door behind himself. “Don’t waste my time. What do you want, Arthur?”

He bristled. “Elder Maxson.”

“Oh, spare me. Last time I saw you was nearly ten years ago, you were following Sarah Lyons around like a little puppy while I went through a very special kind of hell,” She irritably replied. “Either say what you came here to say or leave me alone. Better yet, leave me alone and let my protégé remain with me again rather than force her to be even more isolated than she already is on this damned airship.”

“So much as I respect the care you have for the girl,since the arrival of you and…Jacqueline, yes? Seeing as you’ve both been completely uncooperative, and knowing she won’t cooperate until you do, it seems I have no other choice than to speak to you myself,” He said coldly. “I understand all of this must have been quite the shock to you, but I suspect you’re well past any initial…negative responses to your circ*mstances. Proctor Quinlan noted you seem completely ungrateful to the fact you and Jacqueline are now safe from the Institute. I’ll say, I’m disappointed.”

Madison scoffed. “Who’s to say I’ve ever had contact with this ‘Institute?'”

“The now deceased head of the so called ‘Synth Retention Bureau,’ Dr. Charles Zimmer,” Maxson said, faintly amused when she stared at him in disbelief. “We came across him in the Capital Wasteland, as well as one of his ‘synths,’ and, specifically, the most insidious type of synth. The ones capable of ‘passing’ as human beings. Now we’re clear about who was cavorting with who, I have to ask: why?”

“Are you serious?” Madison said, narrowing her eyes at him. “Please tell me you’re kidding. You cannot possibly be that blind.”

“You won’t answer? Even such a simple question?” Maxson said, waiting for any change in her demeanour. “Then let me make it clear why you’re here: you were one of the people responsible for solving the power consumption and distribution problems experienced in the construction of Liberty Prime which, as you know, was destroyed in defeating the Enclave. You and Jacqueline, whom herself, from what we’ve been able to tell, is quite intelligent, are going to work on reviving Liberty Prime.”

“To do what?” Madison rolled her eyes. “Doesn’t matter. No thanks.”

“Liberty Prime is going to balance things out in the Commonwealth,” Maxson curtly informed her. “As you were one of its original –”

“You think Liberty Prime is going to ‘balance things out’ in the Commonwealth? In favour of who, you?” Madison snapped, standing up, her voice shaking. “If you think,” She said, slowly standing to be toe to toe with the much taller man. “For even a second, this is how you’ll show the people of the Commonwealth you care about them, then I worry for the sake of your children, being raised to think this is acceptable. Taking me would have been one thing, and don’t try and pin any of this nonsense on me, but Jacqueline is only seventeen and has nothing to do with any of this other than the fact she was with me at the time you decided to abduct me. You’ve made it very clear what you are and what you believe. This being it, I find that troubling.”

“Do not bring Karissa or our children into this,” Maxson ordered, struggling to keep himself calm. She and the twins are alright. Just a month and a half or so longer, and we’ll be able to safely hold them in our arms. “My wife and our children have nothing to do with this.”

“The same should have applied to Jacqueline,” Madison venomously replied. “I don’t care how it makes you feel, the notion alone that Liberty Prime could be used to keep the Commonwealth under the thumb of the Brotherhood is frightening.”

“Liberty Prime is the lynchpin of our operation in the Commonwealth and is what will cement our position here,” Maxson said, though a bit rattled by her words and the harsh, unrelenting scowl on her face. “You will complete the reconstructive efforts on Liberty Prime with Jacqueline, after which we will consider allowing the both of you to work on whatever projects suit you.”

“Do I really have to keep saying it?” Madison said, her voice still sharpish. “No. I won’t work on Liberty Prime again, and certainly not under these conditions. I can’t do it. I won’t.”

“Whether you want to or not is immaterial, Dr. Li. You can complain about the circ*mstances, but this is not a choice,” Maxson told her. “You will work on Liberty Prime, you will bring it to completion, and you and your protégé will prove your loyalty to the Brotherhood. Think of someone other than yourself and two or three other people for once, Dr. Li.”

Madison snorted. “Make me.”

“I will,” He said firmly. “If you and Jacqueline do not work on Liberty Prime and bring it through to completion, I will have you shot.”

“Back to intimidation and threats I see,” Madison glared at him, though her voice wavered when she crossed her arms. “You really are a heartless son of a bitch.”

The Commonwealth
December the 24th, 2288
19:47

“You’re lucky the Children Of Atom brought you here with some time for me to prepare, otherwise I might have just torn you to shreds. So, tell me, what do you want from me?”

When their two escorts shuffled out of the way, muttering to each other about going to worship outside in Atom’s glow whilst awaiting the lawyer and the detective to finish their meeting, Nicholas Julius Valentine and Nora Jacqueline Norwich had expected the man they had come looking for to be an older, bitter, hardened scientist.

They had not anticipated him being a super mutant.

Nora faltered where she stood, anxiety seizing her at the sight of him. Far less bothered, Nick walked over to him, calm as ever, and offered to shake his hand. Surprised at the gesture, from a mechanical synth no less, the man called Virgil shook the detective’s hand. He took a look around when he released the detective, surprised to see Nora still lingering halfway behind a corner. She only began to move slowly towards them when Nick gave her a short, reassuring nod, and even slower still when the sounds of her power armour reverberating against the cave walls startled her. When she reached Nick, she nervously looked the man up and down. Man. He was a man, or, at least, man enough to still retain his intellectual capacities. His body was, however, still startling; his limbs engorged by layers of muscle and fat, his head almost too small for his body, his skin a sickly grey green. Glasses. An ill fitting shirt and pants which seemed to do well enough at keeping him warm or, at least, warm enough not to freeze. The way he stared at her made her nervous; critical and forever analysing; friend or foe? Trying to quell the questions and fears swirling in her chest, she swallowed hard and tried to breathe, nervously glancing at Nick. To her surprise, the scientist turned mutant let out a sigh and waved for them to sit down on a beaten up couch before, pulling out his desk chair, sitting down himself and leaning back slightly against the chair and onto his desk.

“You didn’t come all the way out here, asking to see ‘Dr. Brian Virgil,’ for nothing,” He said, shifting his gaze curiously to Nick. “What’s your designation, unit?”

“Nick Valentine,” Nick wryly replied. “Though if you mean what the Institute called me, I think it was N1-33, but I can’t be sure. They threw me in the dumpster a long time ago. Probably well before you were born, I’m guessing.”

“I’m fifty seven, but, yes, you’re most likely correct. Synths of your model – even close to your model – weren’t being actively developed by the time I was born. The current programme had already begun, if in its infancy,” Virgil shook his head. “But I take it you know enough about that. You’re probably the only kind of synth like you. Must have been a failed experiment in Robotics, never my area of expertise, since your brain is probably the only thing Bioscience had a hand in.”

“Robotics?” Nora hesitantly pressed. “Bioscience? I understand those are broad categorisations for a number of applied –”

“They are, and those specifically are Divisions within the Institute,” Virgil said, taking a few seconds to think. “Along with Synth Retention, Advanced Systems, and Facilities. Each are specialised groups working on various projects. But I don’t think the internal politics of the Institute are why you’re here.”

“They’re not,” Nora said shortly. “We heard you’re from the Institute. And we need to get in.”

“You want to get into the Institute?” Virgil dubiously repeated. “Why? How did you even learn I was from there? The Children didn’t come up with it on their own.”

“A man – Conrad Kellogg – was sent to look for you, in the Glowing Sea,” Nora paused when his gaze darkened. “He…I killed him.”

“You?” Virgil said, surprised. “You’re saying you killed Conrad Roy Kellogg?”

“She did,” Nick grimly confirmed. “Saw it with my own two eyes. We’d show you his severed head, but I’m afraid we didn’t bring it with us.”

Virgil let out a short laugh. “Would have appreciated the memento,” He said dryly. “But it’s still hard to believe. The man is a killer, and he’s very good at what he does. Do you have any idea what the man had done over his hundred some odd years of life? Or even a fraction of what the Institute paid him to do, all off the books, of course? Kellogg was ruthless. There’s a reason the Institute used him to do their dirty work for so many years, and that reason was why they put a lot of time, resources, and research into keeping him alive.”

“I know enough,” Nora said, anger seeping into his voice. “He’s the son of a bitch who took my son and handed him over to them for God knows what reason!”

“Damn,” Virgil said, a bit hesitantly. “I’m sorry. I had no idea. It wouldn’t be the first time. The Institute has taken people from the Commonwealth in the past. I suppose…I can see why you would be angry and want to get in.”

“I don’t ‘want’ to get into the Institute,” Nora snapped. “I need to get into the Institute.”

“Need to or not isn’t the point,” Virgil flatly told her. “Never mind how difficult getting into the Institute is, and certainly uninvited, even if you were to succeed, it’d almost certainly end in your death soon thereafter. I understand feeling the need to reunite with your child, but your reunion likely wouldn’t last very long.”

“Maybe,” Nora bit off. “But I’m not going to pretend as though I don’t know where he is and I’m not going to act as though there’s nothing I can do to find him.”

“If you’re so determined, then a dose of reality might illuminate to you why all of this is a bad idea,” Virgil said, struggling to mask his irritation. “First off, do you even know how synths and, rarely, people get in and out of the Institute?”

“They use the ‘Molecular Relay,’” Nora said, though the words felt a bit strange. One of the few things the former ‘Courser’ was forthcoming about after having kept a massive gun pointed at me, Piper, and Nick for far longer than necessary to make a point. She might be the bitchiest person I’ve ever had the displeasure of meeting. “It’s a…teleporter, of sorts. Though I don’t imagine that’s the scientific term.”

“I’m surprised to hear you even know what the Institute calls it,” Virgil said, eyeing her critically. “But yes. There is no strictly scientific term for it, presumably the Institute are the only people who have one or, at least, put the effort into developing one. As for what it does, I don’t understand all the science behind it, but it works by dematerialising you in one place and rematerialising you in another, down to the precise coordinate you’re standing in at the time of use. It’s a pretty closely guarded secret, as I’m sure you’ve deduced.”

“Even as a synth, I’ve got to say, it’s an amazing feat of technology,” Nick remarked. “Never seen or heard of anything like it. The Institute might throw their unwanted garbage into the Commonwealth to fend for itself, but they’re certainly quite the capable group of people.”

“Capable is an understatement. Like it or not, the Institute and its Divisions are comprised of some of the best minds the world’s ever known, which accounts for a majority of cases of them taking people,” Virgil said, standing up to get some water from a small, rickety purifier. “I haven’t had a chance to look at the stats on the matter in well over two years, but, since the Institute’s founding soon after the War, about seventy two percent of the people they take from above ground – which are in the hundreds each year – are intellectuals and, mostly, scientists. Twenty five percent, since the first synths who are, on the surface, good as human, are infiltrators or replacements of people. Take a guess on the other three percent.”

Nora recoiled. “I think we know,” She said coldly. “How else did mutants like you get created? I’m guessing some of them were your lab rats?”

Virgil set down the cup of water with a harsh thud. “I’m not justifying the results of the FEV programme, but it was not carried out as unethically as you’re implying. The FEV virus was developed in 2068 as an attempt to create an injection which would be able to boost a human immune system beyond normal capacities to be able to promote better wholistic health and reduce susceptibility to radiation poisoning and general disease. Human testing began in the 2110s and 2120s, following successful animal testing from 2096 to 2115.”

Nora frowned. “And doing human testing in the first place wasn’t unethical?”

“It was, but not in the way you’re implying,” Virgil said, frustration shaking his voice. “I was made the lead researcher on the FEV programme in 2261, when I was thirty, the FEV being the same virus responsible for my current state. Yes, again, the FEV programme was unethical. I sabotaged all research on my way out for a reason. As for the programme itself, the Institute got test subjects for the FEV experiments, at first, from within our own members. As more experiments failed and a reversal cure was unable to be synthesised, they turned to the surface in the 2130s.”

Nick raised an eyebrow. “When you say ‘turned to the surface…’”

“The Institute would approach very poor people, and offer them – typically – several thousand caps, as well as material goods they could use, most often in farming or whatever it was they did to sustain themselves,” Virgil shook his head. “Then, either one person in a family or two or three people in a town would offer themselves as test subjects for an Institute project meant to prolong the human life span, boost the immune system to promote better health and reduce the impact of radiation and general disease, and make the regeneration of lost tissue quicker.”

“That’s a good goal,” Nora grudgingly conceded. “Doesn’t make up for the fact you took advantage of desperate people while living comfortably wherever you were.”

“It would have been worthwhile if it had been able to be achieved without mutating a person beyond recognition,” Virgil said, coming back around, glass of water in his hands, to sit down at his desk chair. “I certainly wish it had. It would have helped a great deal of people but there’s a reason the programme tapered on and off for decades. From the entirety of the programme, about a hundred and fifty people were infected with the FEV, and the experiments done on those infected lasted years to try and synthesise a version which would not mutate people. The reason mutants still exist in decent numbers is due to them reproducing, something we hadn’t considered as a possibility when we released them because all other previously known versions of the FEV had also been…sterilising.”

Nora snorted. “It all sounds closer to all of you playing Viktor Frankenstein than real science, but I’ll give you the part where you half informed people rather than just taking them without some amount of consent.”

“The programme should have been stopped after the FEV was able to coalesce with human DNA in the late 2220s,” Virgil said gruffly. “Once that was achieved, the Institute were able to create the synths you see today, the ones most people would never be able to tell weren’t human like them. When I took over the programme, we were supposed to ‘perfect’ it to improve our Coursers, but it barely yielded any results. Especially after the 2220s, the FEV programme was both redundant and unethical. I’m not denying that it took advantage of impoverished people in the Commonwealth who wanted to provide for their families or towns, but they did consent to it, however poorly they understood the implications of what the experiments would do. That’s why I had refocused the research on synthesising a cure.”

“And it seems you got what you deserved,” Nora coldly remarked. “Being forced to become the very thing you subjected other people to.”

“Whether you want to argue about it or not, agree or disagree with me, the fact is you’ll need me to get anywhere near the Institute,” Virgil said, matching her tone. “So I suggest you stop being argumentative and focus on what you’ll need to know to get into the Institute, which has nothing to do with my former research. Understand?”

Nora nodded after a moment of hesitation, biting back the urge to say something more.

“Now, the Relay was made possible by well over a century of work by Institute scientists and engineers, many of whom originally came from the surface. The reason for developing it was partially related,” Virgil waited for her to say something, continuing when she didn’t. “Having something like the Relay would make it much easier to remain hidden if we didn’t have to have a surface entrance, even one you wouldn’t be able to find without being told of it. Are you following?”

“I am,” Nora said, a bit suspicious. “Do any of those still exist?”

“To my knowledge, no,” Virgil said, taking a long sip of his water before setting it down and leaning back against his desk chair again. “Which, in practicality, means the Relay is the only way in and out of the Institute. You clear? The only one, which means you’re going to have to use it.”

Nick nodded. “How so?”

“The same way synths get in and out of the Institute,” Virgil said. “Now, have you ever seen or heard of an Institute Courser?”

“Courser?” Nora sighed. “Yes, and she wasn’t pleasant to be around.”

Virgil’s eyes narrowed. “I can’t tell if you’re bullsh*tting me or not, but I suppose it doesn’t matter. Either way, they’re another Institute secret because, while they’re synths, they’re designed for one purpose, don’t come out every damn day, and, when they do, few see them because their objective is simple – if an operation goes wrong, a synth goes missing, etc, a Courser is dispatched to hunt down and address the issue by any means necessary. And you are going to have to kill one.”

“Just kill one?” Nora pressed. “All I need to do is kill one?”

“Part of what you need to do is kill one,” Virgil corrected. “Every Courser has special hardware, hardware giving them a direct connexion to the Relay in the Institute. The hardware in question is embedded in a chip in their heads, and you need that chip, which necessitates your killing one. The chip is another part of what will get you inside.”

“Alright,” Nora said. “How do I find one?”

“By following the signal of one arriving on the surface. You’re going to have to start approximately around the ruins of the CIT, directly above the Institute,” Virgil said, turning in his chair to start digging around in his desk. “You’ll be able to find and follow a signal of an active Courser because the Relay causes heavy, lingering interference all across the EM spectrum. Getting the chip, however, won’t get you in on its own.”

Nora bit back the urge to swear. “Then what will?”

“A device capable of hijacking the signal the Institute uses to teleport Coursers and send you instead,” Virgil said, turning back around with a large notepad and a pencil and a pen in hand. “Considering I don’t want to see you become frequent visitors in and out of here, you’re going to stay here a few days while I get together some schematics for such a device for you. Regarding the device, one of the most…interesting things, you could say, is the Relay’s carrier signal is on the base, classical music station on most radios because all of the data is on harmonic frequencies. To use it, you’re also going to have to get the Courser chip decoded. I don’t have an answer for how to do that for you, so you’re on your own after I give you a few sets of schematics. The only time I want to see you again is to help me.”

“Help you?” Nora said sceptically. “Do what?”

“I was working on a serum to reverse this mutation before I was forced to leave, one I had just about completed,” Virgil said sharply. “If you get in there, you’re going to go into my old office and bring it to me. Do we understand each other?”

Silence. Nora wrapped her hands over her knees to keep herself from letting them ball into fists.

“Fine,” She said through gritted teeth. “But I get those schematics first. If you want your damn serum, you need me.”

“I’m all too aware,” Virgil irritably replied. “For your own safety, I’m letting the two of you remain here until I finish the schematics, so you can leave as soon as those are ready. It’ll also give you a chance to think very carefully about what you’re going to do if and when you find a Courser. Killing Kellogg is impressive, I’ll give you that much, but a Courser is still much more precise than him because they lack the human lust for blood he had. Something you seem to have too.”

“This isn’t about bloodlust. I didn’t kill him for pleasure,” Nora said, anger shaking her voice. “I did it because I need my son back, safe with me, and, if what I’ve done isn’t showing you the way I loved him and his father, then you’re good as blind because there is nothing I won’t do to get him back. Not now.”

Goodneighbour
December the 31st, 2288
23:17

“You know what I’m not looking forward to about the new year being tomorrow?” Duncan said, his eyes widening and laughing while his dad continued to towel dry his hair. “The fact I have to remind people what month it is!”

“And you know what I’m not looking forward to about the new year?” MacCready replied, relenting when he was sure the five year old’s hair was dry. “The fact you’re going to be six in June!”

Duncan grinned. “Which you said means I get to learn how to shoot things with a real gun!”

“Not quite,” MacCready reminded him, though he smiled. “Do you need me to brush out your hair, or can you do it yourself?”

“If you brush and braid it while you tell me a story, I’ll go to sleepy sleep right after,” Duncan said innocently. “I already brushed my teeth, too, daddy!”

“And also managed to get most of the water and soap out of your hair on your own,” MacCready noted, a bit amused when Duncan loosely pulled his hair out to the sides with his fists and stuck out his tongue. “Keep doing that, and you’re going to end up looking like me.”

“Because you’re a mungo?” Duncan giggled. “Guess you’re old!”

“Don’t remind me I’ll be twenty four in a little over…scratch that, just forget it,” MacCready said, affectionately ruffling his son’s hair while he picked up the brush from his bedside table. “And don’t tell me I’d look younger if I shaved. You and I both know that’s not true, and the…slightly acidic soap incident that also took off my eyebrows from two years ago doesn’t need to be repeated.”

“Mine was fine,” Duncan shrugged, leaning back stare at his father. “You looked silly. Like after being in too much sun.”

“Thank God it was summer, and I could get away with telling people it was a sunburn,” MacCready muttered, slowly separating his son’s thick, messy hair. Even his hair is healthier now he’s no longer sick. “What kind of story do you want me to tell you?”

“Anything,” Duncan said before taking a few seconds to think. “What about when you worked with those big gun guys?”

“How about anything else?” MacCready said, reaching for the hairbrush though his hands shook a little. “Those guys…they’re not good people, Duncan. I don’t like to think about them, and I don’t want you to have to think about them either.”

“Do they scare you?” Duncan asked, leaning back again to stare at his father, eyes wide. “I didn’t think you were scared of anything, daddy.”

“Everyone’s afraid of something,” MacCready sighed when Duncan sat back up and he began to brush out the five year old’s hair. “Me? I don’t like the dark, I don’t like crustaceans, and…yes, Duncan. They scare me. But if it came down to it – and I hope it never will – I would be able to deal with them, to keep you safe. In whatever way was necessary.”

“Got it,” Duncan said, humming a bit to himself. “You really are good people stuff. Like you said you wanted to be. When you told me you’d ‘clean things up and be a better person.’”

“You remember me saying…” MacCready fell silent, surprised when Duncan nodded. “You were barely three at the time.”

“I don’t know, daddy, I remember a lot of things,” Duncan said, turning around to face him. “Like the other day when Hanco*ck said his favourite song is ‘guess the chem-thing near to me’ or something.”

MacCready raised an eyebrow. “I think Hanco*ck and I need to have another talk.”

Duncan smiled. “He says kooky things,” He said, turning back to let his father continue brushing out his hair. “Daisy taught me that word. Koo. Key. Kooky. It’s like silly but it sounds smarter.”

“Considering at least half my vocabulary at your age involved at least a handful of swears, I have to say, I’m glad someone is teaching you words I probably wouldn’t have thought were real when I was five,” MacCready laughed a bit, parting his son’s hair to begin braiding it. “I could read decently by the time I was four, but if you asked me to talk like anything other than an angry brat when I was five? Couldn’t have done it. Glad to know you care about learning things other than how to fight other kids.”

“Why fight when you can do fun things like climbing stuff or talking about funny comics?” Duncan tried to resist the urge to shake his head when his father set down the brush to braid up his hair. “Besides, the only funny thing in fighting is when you get to make the big noises like they do in comics. Or the one kid who bonked another kid on the head with a book. Hanco*ck thought it was funny. Daisy didn’t.”

“Which would be because Daisy hasn’t thrown thousands of caps at who will win whatever fight this week for probably at least a decade like Hanco*ck has,” MacCready said, trying focus instead of laugh. “I think I’ve got a good story for you. It’s about the time we tried to perform ‘Pyramus and Thisbe’ in Little Lamplight…and it didn’t really go over too well. Princess – well, that was what she tried to make all of us call her, anyways, even though her real name is Angela – insisted on being Thisbe. Trouble was, none of the boys wanted to have to kiss her.”

“She was the one who only got to be mayor for five minutes, right?” Duncan said a bit cheekily. “You punched her in the nose and then you became mayor for six whole years!”

“Would have been seven, but I liked your mother too much to let her go out into the world all by her pretty little self,” MacCready said, taking a spare piece of fabric out from rolled up in his jacket. “That’s what I get for having fallen in love with a girl a year old than me,” He carefully rolled the braid into a loose bun to wrap the fabric roll around and tie it up and off. “Princess wasn’t a fan of it.”

Duncan giggled. “What was she a fan of?”

“People giving her attention,” MacCready said, smiling when Duncan, his hair now brushed, braided, and tied up, turned back around to him. “It didn’t matter to me though, only wanted to get into trouble with your mother. I really don’t think I can even say how bad I had it for Lucy. First thing we did after leaving was decide to check out the Commonwealth. Spent a few days in Diamond City, drank too much, and then went to Rivet City. But you’ve heard all that before.”

“I know,” Duncan said simply. “It’s just fun to hear about. Do you think you like her? Like you did mommy?"

MacCready raised an eyebrow. “Who, Princess? Heck no.”

“You’re silly, daddy,” Duncan said, shaking his head. “I mean your special friend.”

“Well, I…” MacCready sighed, standing up, sweeping up the brush and setting it back down on the bedside table, and grabbing a blanket from one of the chairs in his son’s room while the little boy leaned back into his pillows. “Think we’ve had enough…stories for tonight? You ready to sleep?”

Duncan yawned. “If it snows, wake me up to see it.”

MacCready chuckled. “You know I will.”

His father lightly tossing the blanket over him, Duncan grabbed onto it and tugged it up so part of it was under his head on his pillow. Taking a few minutes to make sure his son wasn’t pretending to be falling asleep, MacCready leaned on the doorframe into his son’s room. He breathed another light sigh when it was clear Duncan was safely and happily asleep. His fingers hesitated over the light switch and, though he felt a little sick flicking it, he turned it off, trying to remind himself Duncan preferred to sleep in the dark. Then there’s another thing I’m afraid of. Not just the dark but enclosed, tight spaces whether they’re lit or not. Same with the water, probably because swimming has never been my… Hearing the light tapping of heels in the kitchen, MacCready paused again, briefly, before remembering he had left Annette to have a cig (or two or three) on the balcony while he helped Duncan finish getting ready to go to sleep. She looked up, a bit startled when he walked into the kitchen but eased upon seeing him and seeing he was alright, if a bit tired. She came around and dropped her bag on the couch, a half smoked pack of cigarettes falling from her hands and on top of the bag. Extending his hand with a small curtsey, MacCready smiled when she took it, her fingers tightly twining in between his.

“I’ll tell you a secret,” MacCready said, twirling her into his arms, the skirt of dress flying out. “Every doctor I’ve ever talked to was worthless,” He smiled, kissing her cheek. “Until you.”

Annette laughed, resting her hands lightly on his chest. “About Duncan or in general?”

“Doesn’t matter,” MacCready said, affectionately letting her hair free to cascade down her back and past her knees from its tight bun. “Sorry, but it looked like it was crushing your head,” He said, raising an eyebrow when she smiled. “Was it?”

“I’d forgotten when I put it up,” Annette replied, briefly taking off her glasses to tease them out of her hair. “Probably too long ago. Has to be done, partly anyways, but I could have done a better job of it.”

“For someone who’s probably been doing that her entire life, saying you could do better is a surprise to me,” MacCready teased, handing her the ribbon back. “How long is this? Nearly as tall as you?”

“Actually, yes,” She said, putting her glasses back on before finding the end of the ribbon. “I have a couple cut to be exactly my height. My mother had…always done something similar. The ‘measure of courage’ as dad always told me. After I realised she didn’t cut her hair shorter than her knees, I decided not to either. Ever since, the thought of doing so…it’s always seemed like bad luck to me.”

“If you’d told me – what, just shy of a year ago? – the sad woman in a sweater and lab coat was secretly a mildly superstitious sweetheart who’d help me cure my son, I probably would’ve assumed I had way too much to drink,” MacCready shook his head before looping his arms around the petite woman again. “I’m glad I took a chance asking you out. Think we can keep this thing going?”

“If you’re willing to try, then I am,” Annette said, falling silent. “I’m sorry, Bobby. About storming out a few –”

“I get it, but I’m not angry with you anymore. Haven’t been since then. We worked it out, Netta, heck still went out two days later,” MacCready sighed but then gently cupped her cheeks with his hands. “I shouldn’t have yelled at you. If you’re still upset about it, you can –”

“I shouldn’t have started it,” Annette said quietly. “I’m still trying to balance my…I’m sorry. I don’t know what else to say, I really don’t.”

“Then at least know you don’t have anything to feel sorry for, certainly not tonight,” MacCready hesitated when he felt a few tears silently begin to fall. “Remember what I said about every other doctor I’ve talked to being worthless? I didn’t need them, and neither did Duncan. I needed you.”

“I…” Annette shakily threw her arms around him and softly kissed him. “Please don’t leave me,” She whispered, swaying. “Please.”

“Don’t worry,” MacCready said, brushing her hair away from her eyes. “I won’t unless you give me a reason to and, so far? You absolutely haven’t and I don’t think you will. I…I really hope you won’t.”

Chapter 32: Something Conspired

Chapter Text

Diamond City
January the 2nd, 2289
23:11

Diamond City.

Once Fenway Park, once a place she had meant to take her son to see a friendly few games of baseball.

For once, it did not matter the stadium had since become a bustling city. It was there. Real. Tangible.

And a hell of a lot nicer than any shelter they had needed to take in the depths of what had once, itself, been a thriving metropolis.

It was over. She had what she needed to know.

Nora let out a long sigh of relief when she stepped through the gates of Diamond City. Just a few more minutes, and she would be able to step out of the power armour and, she hoped, never have to step into a suit of it again. Yet it was also good enough, for now, to have been able to put on softer, comfortable clothes on underneath it instead of the hazard suit. Everything felt better. Lighter. Airier. Far less unpredictable. There were answers, now, about where to go and how. What was necessary to get there. Annoyance slipping into her mind when she remembered she would have to speak to the former Courser – ‘Glory’ – again, Nora shoved aside the snappish thought of wanting to take a Courser chip from her. Step after step. Closer and closer to the known. Reaching the top of the first set of stairs into the city, Nora paused to take a look around, relieved to find it was still the same as it had been when she had left. Nick took a moment to stop and stare, too, just as happy to be in the city he called home again. The bubbling and smiling face of his secretary coming to mind, he could not help but smile himself. When he started down the stairs with Nora, he waved at and tipped his hat politely at the city guards and people – few of them as they were at the late hour and in the cold winter night – who greeted him. He laughed a little when Natalie Wright began shouting when she saw him, all but chasing after him and Nora towards the Dugout Inn after sliding down the roof after climbing through the window on the second floor of her sister’s office upon seeing them.

The farther down the streets they went, and the closer they got to the Dugout Inn, the more excited their surprise, sudden companion became. Nick eyed her strangely when he realised she wasn’t wearing shoes but barely had time to think on it before she had ran past him. Nora nearly walked into a streetlamp post when the teenager darted in between her and Nick. She laughed a little when Nat leapt over the steps towards the entrance into the Dugout Inn, even more so when the teenager all but ripped the first door inside off its hinges to hold it open for her and Nick. Nearly the second the former lawyer and the detective were through the door, Nat ran past them again to get the second, shouting into the bar when she opened it. Vadim came running over himself, cheering and clapping, grabbing Nora’s left arm the second she was in reach and had taken off the helmet of her power armour, unable to see well through it in the low light of the bar. Holding her arm up and shouting in, first, his native Ukrainian, Vadim waved his brother towards the bar with his free hand. Yefim grimaced but took the hint and began nervously manning the bar. Nick slipped past Nora, Vadim, and Nat to go and help the uneasy (and somewhat unwilling) bartender, smiling when he saw Nat dart over towards her sister, who had turned around to see the commotion and was laughing a bit at the sight of Vadim parading Nora around the bar.

“This woman!” Vadim declared. “Went into the Glowing Sea! And look at her! Not a scratch on her, and she definitely is not now a ghoul!”

“We had to be careful to do everything to avoid radiation exposure,” Nora reminded him. “The suit may not be flattering, but neither is radiation sickness.”

“You got the fire suit!” Vadim excitedly said. “From Rowdy and her Cats, no? They are a hoot – is what I’ve heard them say – and it suits you! No person without fire goes into the Glowing Sea, much less for weeks and weeks!”

“We didn’t have a choice but to wait out several bad storms, Vadim,” Nora shook her head. “It’s a good thing Nick knew some…eccentric people who live out there and were willing to…let us stay with them. Deep underground. Away from the radiation.”

“The Children Of Atom,” Nick said when they got closer. “And, Vadim, if you don’t let her go, even in the damn suit, you’re going to break her arm, holding it up like that.”

“Sorry, sorry,” He said, letting Nora go and dusting off his hands. “I forget I have a strong grip.”

Nora laughed. “It’s alright, Vadim. Just glad to be back…and to never have to go back there again.”

“Glad to see the suit held up,” A calm voice said from behind her, smiling when she turned around. “Did you find what you were looking for?”

“We did,” Nora said, smiling when she shook his hand. “Thanks again, Derek. For helping with getting the suit fixed up. Though I hope no one minds if I want to never have to wear one again.”

“If you don’t want it, lassie, I’ll take it. Just promise me you’ll douse it in your perfume first.”

Nora jumped a little when a pair of hands began playfully messing with her hair, only to relax and begin laughing again when she saw it was Cait. When the former cage fighter took a few steps back, and making sure no one was too close around her, Nora closed her eyes for a moment before finally stepping out of the suit of power armour she had been all but confined to for over a month. Her body feeling immensely lighter, and happy to be in nothing but her own, comfortable, and, more importantly, soft clothes again, Nora shook herself out before, tightly hugging Cait, who had been standing close beside her. Letting out a light squeak of excitement, Cait latched onto her even more tightly. When she let her go, the former cage fighter winked and then, sure it was alright, hopped into the power armour herself, picking up the helmet from where Nora had haphazardly dropped on the floor, too happy to be able to get out of the suit to have noticed she dropped anything. With a flourish, Cait spun around to show off, grinning and sashaying over to where Piper was sat with Lissy, Hadley, and Ada, leaning back against the bar next to them with a smirk.

“Think the Cats are onto something with these,” Cait said, winking at Nora when she came to sit down on Piper’s right, Lissy already on her left. “No wonder they have problems with the neighbours trying to steal their suits. I feel more powerful just standing around in this.”

“Can I test its strength by shooting at you?” Ada said, her eyes wide only to pout when her mother pointedly elbowed her. "I won’t shoot her with anything actually dangerous! Just some…reinforced BBs. And maybe some paintballs.”

“The Cats play paintball in their suits all the time,” Piper remarked, laughing when her sister in law hopped down from the barstool to run over to Nat. “They’re going to come up with terrible plans,” She whispered to her wife. “I think our little sisters could level the whole town if they were given enough of a chance to.”

“Just don’t let them get their hands on fireworks,” Lissy said, snickering. “Pretty sure they would cause enough mayhem to last most people a lifetime.”

Hadley raised an eyebrow, primly adjusting her glasses.

“Like when you, May, Lucy, and Mack set Arthur Maxson’s hair on fire when you and Mack were sixteen, Lucy was seventeen May was a newly minted eighteen year old, and Arthur was fourteen?”

Lissy grinned. “It was a mistake with firecrackers,” She said innocently. “We weren’t trying to set his hair on fire. It just sort of happened.”

Nora chuckled. “How does one accidentally set someone’s hair on fire?”

“Precisely the same question I had for them,” Hadley said, standing up to embrace the former lawyer. “It’s good to see you back safe.”

“I’m just glad it’s over,” Nora tiredly replied. “We have…” She lowered her voice. “Some things your colleagues might be interested in.”

Hadley nodded. “Do you want me to take a look at them first? To help you…decide what we should tell them? About what you learnt, that is.”

“I’d definitely feel a lot better about it doing that,” Nora said with a sigh. “It’s all so damn complicated. I don’t even know where to begin.”

“And there’s no shame in that,” Hadley reassured her. “For now, you have a chance to relax. If you want anything, let me know. You’ve certainly earnt a free dinner and drinks.”

“I feel like I haven’t eaten real food in ages,” Nora admitted, smiling when Vadim came over to them when she sat down at the bar with the older woman. “Do you have anything…well. Noodles in peanut oil? And maybe some water and…a bottle of wine?”

Vadim winked. “Coming right up, lapochka. Want some fries with that too?”

“Am I a tired and very hungry American?” Nora half jokingly replied, smiling when he nodded. “Thanks.”

“First thing he did when we got back was ask me if I was hungry too,” Another voice said, and Nora raised an eyebrow when she saw it was Preston. “Got back from Far Harbour about…two or three days ago. Been trying to relax a little ever since. It was…stressful, to say the least.”

“Going up that far north with things they way they are…I believe you,” Nora said, laughing when Cait started playing with her hair again. “You find the missing girl?”

“Found her, even got to talk to her, but…” Preston shook his head. “We came back because we’re going to need to consult with Nick. Kasumi’s in probably the strangest place I’ve ever been and, while it’s safe, her parents desperately need her to come home. Seeing them worry…it was hard to stomach, especially when we had to tell them we weren’t able to get her to go back.”

“She doesn’t want to go home? Why wouldn’t she?” Lissy said, going unusually quiet. “I always did, every time we had to leave somewhere to..."

"Lisanna –” Hadley worriedly began when her daughter suddenly stood up.

“I just miss them,” Lissy said, her glasses fogging up when she started blinking back tears. “All of them, the friends I had when I was little, and…”

“It’s alright,” Piper said, tightly wrapping an arm around her. “Shh…it’s alright, Lis. I know.”

Nora stared in shock when the writer, the pink haired twenty three year old, and Hadley all quickly left.

“She’s crashing into another low,” Preston quietly told her. “Hate to say it, but I’m not surprised. She’s been way up there for so long, it’s almost crazy it didn’t happen sooner.”

Nora sighed. “I knew someone like her,” She said softly, reaching for the locket under her shirt. “But she didn’t make it.”

“Dead friends…” Cait said quietly, stepping out of the power armour to sit down beside Nora and loosely wrap an arm around her. “Hard not to miss them every damn day.”

“Remembering the people who didn’t make it is…” Preston shook his head. “It’s hell. But…enough sad talk. I’m glad to see you back. I’ve been thinking about a big undertaking I thought you might be interested in, if you’ve got time.”

“What is it?” Nora said, surprised. “Something else happen while you were up north?”

“A lot happened while we were up north,” Preston said, laughing a bit. “But no, it’s not about that, other than we just aren’t sure what to do to get the girl to go home. What I’m talking about is there’s an old, pre-War military fort by the coast we always called the Castle. Since things have been looking up for us in the Minutemen so much lately, Derek, Sturges and I have been considering trying to take it back.”

“Really?” Nora smiled. “You know what?” She said, sharing a long look with Cait. “Sounds brilliant.”

The Prydwen
January the 8th, 2289
14:13

Being forced to wear a Brotherhood Of Steel uniform would have been uncomfortable enough on its own for Jacqueline Rose Spencer, but, with the one they gave her first being two sizes too small, it was also anxiety inducing, even after a woman in a power armour frame came by her room to give her one in the correct size.

Knowing she was there with no choice in the matter only made the discomfort and anxiety worse.

The woman in the power armour frame – whose name, she had since learnt, was Mischelle Ingram – walked a few paces ahead of her, Dr. Madison Li by the side of her unlikely protégé, something becoming all the more common. Behind them to ensure they did not try anything off colour was a man who spent a great deal of time, it seemed, managing the weapons, ammunition, and caps flow aboard the airship the seventeen year old had come to know was called the Prydwen. Another day, another round of being presented with the same dilemmas. It was the other thing making her feel sick. When they were walked into what had once been an aeroplane hangar in the former airport, Jacqueline swallowed hard, looking at Madison who, having gotten the ‘privilege to’ after yet another argument with the Brotherhood’s leaders, was smoothing down her blouse and skirt. A few inches of snow outside, the internal heating of the hangar was a welcome reprieve and, as such, a blessing and a curse for the head of Institute Advanced Systems and her protégé. Closely watching Ingram punch in the codes to enter the sealed parts of the hangar, Jacqueline tried to memorise the number sequences and patterns, hoping, somehow, there would be an opportunity to escape, an opportunity facilitated by knowing the codes in and out.

She tried not to ruminate on what Dr. Li had warned her about, and certainly not what her mentor had warned her about after a contentious meeting with the East Coast Brotherhood’s Supreme Commander himself, Arthur Jonathan Maxson.

“Now things have gotten better organised, you should be able to get a better look at it,” Ingram said, watching the doors to the hangar’s sealed sections raise open. “We were a bit haphazard in getting everything in here and out of sight as quickly as possible because of how classified this project is. We may be building a giant gantry on part of the old tarmac, but it could be for anything, parts of the Prydwen, fill in whatever you can think of, and it could probably fit. Which is what we want them to think. Hope you’re both adjusting easier now you’ve gotten into a decent working state.”

Teagan frowned when Madison did not say anything and did not do anything other than set a calm hand to one of Jacqueline’s shoulders and scowl at him and Ingram.

“What? Do you not want us here to help catch you up to speed on the progress we’ve made over the last two weeks?”

“What I want, in this case, is largely irrelevant,” Madison coldly replied. “Arthur gave his orders, and you just have to carry them out.”

Ingram shook her head. “You’ve never had much respect for how leadership works in the Brotherhood, have you Dr. Li?”

“We use your title,” Teagan irritably added. “You could at least show us the same courtesy.”

“Attitude or not,” Ingram said when Madison did not respond. “Maxson and Kells have great expectations for the both of you with this project. You did incredible work before, Dr. Li. We’re sure you’ll be able to do so again."

“So, what the hell is this?” Jacqueline said, crossing her arms. “A big missile launcher for the Prydwen?”

Teagan laughed. “No, child. The Prydwen might be quite the large beast, but she’s not built for fighting. This project, however, has nothing to do with the Prydwen.”

“Proctor Teagan is correct,” Ingram said, giving the teenager a smile. “This is the most advanced robot the Brotherhood has ever had at its disposal, and your mentor was integral in getting it into fighting shape once before. The Brotherhood used it in the Capital Wasteland as a weapon against the Enclave, who were the tyrannical remains of the pre-War United States government.”

“Liberty Prime was necessary,” Madison shortly agreed. “The Enclave were despicable, and the Brotherhood doing away with them was precisely how, after years and years of fighting for them, you won the trust of the people of the former Capital. You have not earnt the trust of the Commonwealth.”

Teagan’s eyes narrowed. “The people of the Commonwealth don’t know how good they have it with us here. We are the ones risking our lives for the greater good. They’d be lining up to help every damn day if they realised what we do for them but, instead, we get them being a nuisance or actively trying to interfere with our operations for no reason other than spite.”

“Just keep telling yourself that,” Madison replied, scowling at him. “I’ll bet it helps you sleep at night.”

“Madison,” Teagan said, patience growing thin. “Should I teach you some manners?”

“That’s not necessary,” Ingram said, stepping between them. “I’ve dealt with worse, Keith. Either way, she isn’t going to be much good to us if she’s laying in a hospital bed.”

“Don’t worry, I know,” He said, laughing a little. “I only came down at Kells behest. He doesn’t trust her. Certainly not after what she said to Elder Maxson about his wife.”

“It was uncalled for,” Ingram shook her head. “Check to make sure the Initiates aren’t completely f*cking up work on the gantry. Quinlan just about lost it when he realised one of them hadn’t been paying attention to their surroundings long enough for a Squire to get his hands on and start playing with the silicone putty.”

“Your orders,” He said with a nod, warily looking at Madison and Jacqueline one last time. “Good luck with them.”

Ingram rolled her eyes, albeit with half a smile, quickly and almost dismissively waving him off. When she turned back to Madison and Jacqueline, she paused, surprised to see how nervous Jacqueline looked. Giving them a second in the relative silence, she then began up the stairs to the second level of the warehouse, looking back only to make sure they were tight on her heels. They were, however grudgingly. Jacqueline kept close to and almost hid behind her mentor. Madison made no attempt to stop her heels from clicking harshly against the steel stairs and walkways. It was all too familiar. I can’t believe you of all people, Mischelle, were confused as to why I am so reluctant to work on Prime. She startled when, seemingly out of the blue, Jacqueline grabbed her hand and held onto it almost the same way a child holds onto their mother’s hand when they’re frightened. When they stopped in front of Prime’s head, seeing her reflexion in it for the first time in almost a decade made her understand why her protégé was so anxious. Madison frowned at her reflexion in the half cleaned silver, letting out a tired sigh when she glanced at Jacqueline. Responsibility lands squarely on my shoulders, again. I can’t fail at it this time. Feeling a little sick at the thought, it was almost a relief when Ingram began down the stairs to the floor of the warehouse again and, so, they went quickly behind her. Ingram smiled when they were on the ground floor again, only to take a small step back when all Madison gave her in return was a dark, wary look.

“As much as I hate to say it, Prime’s power systems are out of my league,” Ingram said, continuing when neither of them said anything. “The first problem is his CPU. It’s fragile, and every time we try to feed power to it, it blows itself out. I do all the maintenance on the Prydwen, so you’d think it’d be a snap, but Liberty Prime has a highly complex power system, a great deal of which was damaged when he exploded. I’ve spent the better part of the last few years piecing him back together, and, if you think that’s easy, try rebuilding a Protectron while you’re blindfolded.”

“Don’t worry, I’ll fix your damn robot,” Madison bitterly replied. “Now get the hell away from me.”

“I’ll be back in an hour or so to check in on how things are going,” Ingram said, heading out. “Good luck.”

Silence. The second she had disappeared out of the hangar, there was silence.

“Listen to me very carefully, Jacq,” Madison said, her voice low. “Follow what I do. We’re going to subtly…interfere with this experiment.”

Jacqueline eyed her strangely. “How so?”

Madison smirked. “You know how you and Quentin ‘play’ with Dr. Holdren’s synth bees? Well, what would you do if you wanted to sink the Synth Zoological Initiative?”

“What?” Jacqueline said, her eyes the widening in understanding. “So,” She said, keeping her voice as quiet. “We set them up to fail. But also…how do you know about –”

“Clayton may be a brilliant scientist in his own right, but he’s also the same man who has watched too many films and wanted to name the…synth version of Roger Warwick ‘R2-D2,’” Madison said, smiling a little when the seventeen year old giggled. “Father said no but let him get close enough with R2-32 instead. As for knowing about your and Quentin’s hobby? It doesn’t matter, just know your secret is safe with me. Now. Focus on getting through this alive.”

Jacqueline nodded. “We don’t really have a choice,” She said, her voice shaking. “And…and they’ll deserve what they’re going to get when this fails.”

“Yes, they will,” Madison said, her voice unusually soft. “To think I thought they couldn’t get any worse.”

Railroad Headquarters
January the 13th, 2289
16:08

“Well, if anyone could manage to survive out in the Glowing Sea for years, it would be an Institute scientist. I have to say, I’m impressed. Not only by him, but with you for managing to find and convince him to help you.”

Sat around the centre table in the former crypt, Nora uncomfortably looked around her. To her left sat Nick, who was as calm and thoughtful as ever. To her right sat Hadley, who kept reaching into her purse only to stop, occasionally stare at a half smoked pack of cigarettes, and then try to resist the urge to have one, struggling but managing to hide her anxiety. Next to the mother of four sat the strange man in sunglasses who called himself Deacon. Every time their eyes met Nora felt a bit of nervousness begin to twist in her chest. Something about him is…off. And is Deacon even his real name? Beside Deacon sat the former Courser, who glared every time her and Nora’s gazes crossed each other. The feeling mutual, Nora scowled at her, her lips pressed into a thin line. The former Courser kept one hand on the knee of the woman sat next to her, the ‘leader’ of the Railroad. Desdemona. Her second in command next to her and looking about as cheerful as he ever did, Dr. Stanley Carrington sent Desdemona an irritable, dark look while she continued to look over the files of information Nora and Nick had brought for them and laid down on the table, atop the large map of the Commonwealth. In a much lighter mood beside him was the man in the large, eccentric headgear, who seemed to be flirting back and forth with the man who called himself Deacon from across the table. Tom, she was pretty sure his name was, and, finally, in between Tom and Nick, was a young man positively possessed with anxiety who called himself, almost amusingly so far as Nora was concerned, Drummer Boy.

“Remarkable as all of this is, who’s to say the Institute won’t see this coming?” The irritable doctor said, staring at Desdemona. “He may have fled to the Glowing Sea to escape the Institute, but they seem to be almost a step ahead of everything. They found the Switchboard after decades of our working there. How have they not found their own scientist?”

“Why waste resources on a guy who’s probably going to kill himself in the Glowing Sea?” Deacon said with a shrug. “They probably initially sent a Courser after him or something but gave up when they realised he was probably going there to take the long walk into the light and not the kind you’ll start giving off if you get exposed to too many rads and somehow don’t die.”

“Thank you for your helpful insights as always, Deacon,” He said, frowning. “But this is a serious matter. Attempting to enter the Institute is a near suicidal act, and will absolutely be if they catch onto these plans.”

“Which is why we won’t let them,” Desdemona said, raising a hand to silence him. “We don’t even have the understanding of how to interpret all of this yet. Some of it is almost unbelievable.”

“What more do you want?” Nora said, crossing her arms. Thank God Hadley thought to have photocopies of all the information Virgil gave us made before coming here. Better they have the photocopies and not the originals. I might need them later. "An actual, honest to God, former Institute scientist drew and wrote up those plans. Ambitious as they are, they’re what will get me into the Institute, but I can’t do something so…immense on my own.”

“Which is why you’ve got us,” Deacon said, kicking his feet up onto the table. “Only question I’ve got is about the code you need access to. Where the hell are you getting it?”

“Well, see, Coursers have a chip in their heads,” Nora said, darkly glancing to Glory. “Which lets them connect to the Relay in and out of the Institute. The signal interceptor needs the code to be able to send me in the place of a Courser.”

Glory snorted. “So, you’ve got to kill a Courser. How are you going to do that?”

“Virgil gave us a few starting points on how to do so,” Nick said quickly, sending Nora a pointed look before she could say anything in response. “Apparently the Institute is below what used to be the Commonwealth Institute Of Technology. When they send Coursers out, it’s usually from that general area. The kicker is the Coursers cause a disturbance to the EM frequency spectrum.”

“If we can catch a Courser’s signal on a radio,” Nora said, surprised when she caught a glimpse of Hadley’s Pip-Boy within the woman’s purse. “Then we can follow it to wherever the hell the thing is, track it down, kill it, take the chip out of its head, and decode it so it’ll be compatible with the device that’ll send me instead of the Courser to the Institute.”

Tom pulled up all the accessories on his headgear excitedly.

“It’s been ages since we’ve gotten a Courser chip in here!” He exclaimed. “I can’t wait to get started on it, once you’ve got your hands on it and the dead Courser, anyways.”

“Doesn’t sound like something you should do alone,” Glory said, smirking a little at Nora. “A Courser working for the Institute won’t hesitate to try and kill you the second it decides you’re a threat.”

“Then how about we start now?” Nora acidly replied. “Think I couldn’t pop off your head?”

“Nora, what the…” Nick said, turning to her, shocked. “I know things have been stressful and dragging you thin but Jesus, I –”

“So much as we want to get a first hand account of what the Institute is and isn’t, we can’t just take you and what you got from this…Virgil and run with it,” Desdemona said, her eyes a bit narrow. “If you want our help, you’re going to have to help us first.”

Hadley frowned. “She went into the Glowing Sea, met with an Institute scientist who left because he couldn’t take it there anymore, and came back with all the information one needs to find a way to get into the Institute. What more do you want?”

“An apology, for one,” Glory said darkly.

“We lost a lot in the Switchboard disaster, Hadley, you know it as well as anyone,” Desdemona said, shaking her head. “Including an important project of Carrington’s. If the Institute have gotten their hands on it, then so be it, but it’s better we try to recover it than leave it for them or – worse – the Brotherhood to potentially discover.”

“sh*t, almost forgot about the prototype, Des,” Deacon said, swearing under his breath. “Yeah, we really need it back. It’s been…almost two years now since we lost Switchboard, right? Two years this summer, anyways.”

“The point is, my prototype has the capacity to do us a great deal of good,” Carrington said a bit pompously. “We have tried to retrieve it a few times but have had to call the operations off due to signs of Institute activity. And Glory’s objections to participating.”

“Just look at him, Carrington,” Glory snapped, waving a hand towards Nick. “Look me and him in the eyes and tell me the first and second generation synths aren’t worth saving, too.”

“Until they got to synths like you, pretty much all the Institute’s synths were dumb as rocks,” Nick said calmly, sighing when she glowered at him. “I’m the only synth like me I’ve ever met. The rest of ‘em, the ones closer to looking like me, aren’t sentient, which is what I mean when I say they’re dumb as rocks. It may be grizzly, especially knowing they were also created by the Institute and were the precursors to synths like us, but it sounds like what you’re refusing to shoot down are glorified Protectrons.”

“Now, you’ve heard it from someone else,” Carrington said, giving Nick a grateful look. “And someone who is also a synth. You’re holding up a necessary operation – have been holding up a necessary operation – for long enough, Glory. If you won’t do it –”

“Make her do it, then,” Glory said, giving Nora a furious glance. “Her, Nick, and Deacon can handle getting your prototype back, don’t you think? Because I, for one, won’t be sacrificing my morals over your prototype. It’s important, but it’s not more important than them.”

“Your anger at nearly everything and everyone other than Desdemona, these days, is getting tiresome, Glory,” Carrington coldly told her. “I think Amari made the right decision, refusing to perform any further 'memory recovery’ procedures on you. Some things – including your previous life as a Courser – are best left forgotten.”

“Yes,” Hadley quietly put in. “Yes, they are.”

Silence.

“Well,” Deacon said, taking his sunglasses off and setting them atop his head. “Guess it’s settled. I’ll be retrieving your prototype with Nick and Nora, and you, Tom, Des, and Glory can try to make heads and tails out of the crazy egghead’s plans.”

“What is this prototype for?” Nora said, sceptically looking between him, Desdemona, and Carrington. “If I’m going to be risking my neck to get it, I want to know what I’m risking my neck for.”

“So, I’ll be straight with you,” Deacon shook his head. “Although you’re not going to like it, I have no idea what the prototype does. I’m pretty sure not even Carrington knows what it does.”

“I do,” Carrington said pointedly. “But you’ve walked away every time I have tried to explain it.”

“Because you try to explain it in boring talk,” Deacon said, dismissively waving his hands. “But, look,” He said, turning back to Nora. “We take promises seriously around here. Help us with this, and we’ll make sure you get into the Institute, even if it takes a while to figure all this…well, all this sh*t out.”

Nora sighed. “As long as I eventually get into the Institute, fine,” She said, warily looking at Desdemona. “But I need you to look me in the eyes and tell me I’m not going to regret this, relying on you to get me in.”

Desdemona frowned but eventually nodded.

“You won’t regret this. How ever long it takes, we’ll get you in there and, with any luck, to your son.”

The Commonwealth
January the 21st, 2289
11:31

“You guys have done a lot for us over the years, and I know it was a lot to ask for you to kick the Brotherhood off our property, but this is…it’s despicable. I don’t even care if the Brotherhood thinks there’s a reason for it. Kidnapping a woman and her daughter for no reason is wrong.”

“No kidding. Those rags don’t know where to stop, do they?”

Rarely a fearful man and once a rather belligerent man, seeing genuine fear and worry all over Roger Warwick’s face and in his posture were more than enough for even Rowdy and Bluejay to feel on edge and unnerved. Duke walked across the farm and towards the other side of the property all the while scowling at the Brotherhood’s airship in the distance. Unusually focused, Zeke continued to furiously take notes while Roger talked, each bit of information a hair more disturbing than the last. Johnny D, the only one of them sceptical, had begun to change his tune the longer Roger talked, slowly becoming convinced – even if he were wrong on some of the details – whatever happened was wrong and could not go unanswered for. Beside Zeke, a hand on each of her guns, Roxy read what he was writing from over his shoulders, almost as quickly as he could write it. Every so often, Roger would go quiet and look around to ensure work on the farm was still going on behind him. The Brotherhood had not returned, but their airship looming in the distance was a fearsome enough warning in and of itself. Out of the corners of his eyes, Zeke briefly smiled when he saw June playing with nine year old Wally while Janey, ever the responsible eldest child, was actively working with the foreman – Bill, he was pretty sure was the man’s name – and one of the farmhands, who he was pretty sure to be called Cedric. When Roger began speaking again, however, the smile left him, and he turned to scowl at the Brotherhood’s airship through his rather large sunglasses.

“You know us, we’re always happy to have guests here,” Roger said, setting his shovel aside. “But the Brotherhood threatening us was a line too far. We don’t even have all that much to give them. Not if we want to be able to survive off this land, anyways.”

“We’re just glad to have gotten here in time to scare them off,” Roxy shook her head. “June did the best job of it, though. The Brotherhood Knight she nearly shot looked like he had seen a ghost with how fast he ran back to their little helicopter things.”

“June’s a real tough cookie, and I love her for it,” Roger happily replied. “No one’s going to bother us anymore. But, yeah,” He said, his voice falling serious. “I don’t know her or her girl particularly well, but Dia and Jackie are two of the smartest people I’ve ever come across, even fixed some of the issues we were having with the pump systems a little ways back. The Brotherhood taking them all because they think they should be using their brains for them is messed up. I wouldn’t usually ask you to put yourselves on the line, but they need it. I can’t even imagine what the Brotherhood are making them do for them.”

“Probably treating them poorly,” Zeke said, snapping the notepad and pen shut. “Don’t think people who resort to kidnapping to get what they want are the ‘we’ll treat you all well and good’ types.”

“But they’re definitely assholes,” Roxy shook her head, looking to Roger. “Anything we should know about Dia and Jackie? Don’t want to scare them more, you know.”

“Also want to make sure we get the right people out of there,” Zeke added. “Letting the Brotherhood chase us with one of their own wouldn’t help nobody.”

“Really wouldn’t,” Roger solemnly agreed. “Dia’s full name is Madison Li, but pretty much everyone calls her Dia. Call her that if you need to convince her you know me. She’s a tiny woman, almost sixty, dark hair, medium dark skin, you get the picture. Jackie, her daughter, is actually a little bit shorter than her mother, but has the same dark hair and slightly lighter skin. She’s also a lot more soft and round than her mother. Two of them will probably be together or close to each other, but…who knows what the Brotherhood have done to try and make them do their bidding?”

“Guess we’re going to find out,” Zeke said, slipping his notepad and pen into his jacket pockets. “But I don’t think we can do just Cats. You going to be upset if we seek help from a few other people, too?”

“What other people?” Roger said, curious. “I thought you guys were pretty self isolated and self sufficient and all.”

“Being far out as we are, in some ways, yes,” Roxy shrugged. “But Duke and Bluejay go out the most of any of us, other than Rowdy, and one of the Minutemen – his name’s Sturges and he’s handy as hell in every kind of shop – is good friends with them, though I don’t think they’ve seen much of each other the last few months.”

“Time really blurs sometimes, doesn’t it?” Roger said before nodding. “I’d forgotten the Minutemen were getting back on their feet. Good to know they ain’t all dead. We might end up needing them if the Brotherhood decide to keep dicking around.”

“Someone’s got to be willing to tell the Brotherhood they ain’t wanted,” Zeke agreed, taking off his sunglasses with a flourish. “I’d probably be alright with the Institute being the ones to do so. People around here might even start to like them if they give the Brotherhood a serious wakeup call.”

Roger uncomfortably laughed. “Best not to tempt fate, right?”

“Where’s the fun in that?” Roxy said, waving Rowdy over from where she had been throwing rocks into the water with Bluejay. “Why not take a few chances? Have you ever gambled? Think of it like that, but betting on who’s going to win – the Institute or the Brotherhood?”

“You mean in a hand to hand?” Rowdy said, skipping over. “Or with guns?” She said, taking her .44 pistol out of the holster and twirling it in her hands. “Because I’d say the Brotherhood might have more muscle than Institute scientists in hand to hand, but the Institute have got the brains and all the sh*t to make some guns we’d ogle over for days.”

“You…are very well armed people,” Roger said, giving her a half smile. “Taught the Brotherhood a good lesson. Though you did have me worried with how you were swinging around your…what is it? The big one, kind scary…”

“ArmaLite-18,” Rowdy replied with a wink. “I found a box full of ‘em a few years back and love to play with them in target practise. If it weren’t for the box, I wouldn’t have known what they’re really called, but I like to mess with people who don’t know sh*t about guns and tell them the ‘AR’ stands for ‘assault rifle,’ and I bet a lot of those Brotherhood nosebleeds don’t know about its actual name. They didn’t get to play with the boxes.”

“The Cats’ cats play with all the empty boxes in the fort,” Zeke said with a laugh. “Every time we empty out a new box or crate, they go crazy. It’s f*cking adorable.”

“But, anyways, what are we going to be getting up to?” Rowdy said, wrapping her free arm over Roxy’s shoulders and waving the other, gun in hand, at Roger. “Since you said the Brotherhood are up to no good again. A kidnapping, wasn’t it?”

“Of a woman and her daughter, yes,” Roger said, awkwardly rubbing at his arms. It was really smart of Dr. Karlin to let me know what I needed to do by sending the Courser disguised as a trader! And hopefully he and Dr. Holdren will be happy with the recent soil samples! “The Brotherhood took them to do…well, whatever it is, I don’t think it’s good or they would have probably agreed to it and not needed to be forcibly taken.”

“The mom’s name is Madison Li, but the Warwick family calls her Dia, so there’s our ‘code word’ of sorts to let her know we’re on her side,” Zeke told her, slickly sliding his sunglasses back on his face. “Her daughter’s name is Jackie but, since the Brotherhood nosebleeds are the ones who took ‘em, we’re going to see if some of Duke and Bluejay’s friends can help.”

“The handyman and mechanic guy or the guy who just cooks chems and tells everyone it’s not a bunch of drugs?” Rowdy said, grinning when he mimed fixing the nearest fence to them. “I like that guy. Sturges, right? Cool man, really chill.”

“But also has the backup we’ll need to rescue these two,” Zeke turned back to Roger to shake his hand. “Don’t worry too hard about your friends. The Cats won’t let you down.”

Goodneighbour
January the 30th, 2289
21:48

“Hanco*ck?” MacCready worriedly repeated, shaken when Daisy nodded. “He was…please tell me you’re pulling my leg. He didn’t even mention…”

“You know our mayor,” Daisy said, putting away her cleaning supplies. “He was probably high on daytripper – it’s his new favourite these days – and too giddy about hearing how you managed to get your hands on his brother’s personal files for him. But, no, Bobby, I ain’t pulling your leg. About half an hour ago, he showed up here with Duncan half asleep in his arms and mumbling about how Annette told him to hide somewhere safe.”

His landlord tight on his heels, running up the stairs to his apartment with him, Robert Joseph MacCready nearly broke the key off in the door trying to open it. The second he succeeded, he didn’t bother to take the key out and instead dropped his gun to the floor and haphazardly threw his hat onto the couch. He let out a heavy, gasping sigh of relief when he entered his son’s room to find the little boy curled up under his blankets and sleeping peacefully. Paranoia still seizing him, he quietly walked over to and knelt down beside him to check his breathing. Hearing his little boy’s calm and steady breaths, he lightly pressed a hand to his son’s forehead to ensure he wasn’t working up a fever before shakily checking his pulse. Not wanting to wake him, the former gunner slowly stood up. Hearing footsteps pause in the doorway, he turned around, expecting to see Annette, annoyance grabbing him with questions whispering at him about how she had let Duncan out of her sight long enough for him to end up in the Old State House. He felt sick when he saw it was only Daisy, who had carefully removed his key from the front door and handed it to him when he began to leave the room before quietly telling him she would stay with Duncan while he looked for Annette. Closing the door behind the woman who had become an unexpected, motherly figure in his life, Robert Joseph MacCready hesitated before quietly calling out for Annette, feeling more annoyed when he heard nothing in reply. Assuming she must have left, he tiredly ran his hands through his hair and headed back to his bedroom, exhausted.

He screamed when he turned on the lights.

Any and all annoyance abruptly left his body. Her long hair tangled and matted around her face, one arm reaching for something, laid Dr. Annette Christine Davis on the hardwood floors. It was seeing the blood pooling around her, the gash in the sleeves of her dress going all the way the back of her right arm, and the unnatural bent of her legs which slammed panic down into him. Running over to her and almost falling over when he grabbed her to try and wake her up, MacCready screamed again when he could not and, shaking badly, turned her over to check her pulse, only to feel sick when he saw a dark stain and a few more gashes in her dress from her top of her left ribs down to her hip. It was when he found her pulse, however, when he also realised he was crying. His entire body shaking, after a few minutes of struggle and terrified he would hurt her more than she already was, he managed to lift her up into his arms. Holding her tightly against his chest, briefly unsteady on his feet, he didn’t notice Daisy had stepped out of Duncan’s room upon hearing his screams. He ran. Into the corridor, down the stairs. Out the door of Daisy’s store. His breathing hard, ragged, and increasingly unsteady, he kept running. Turned a corner. Then another. Feeling sick, he struggled to keep Annette securely in his arms when he reached the doors to the infamous ‘Memory Den,’ pulling her closer still to him once he got them open and burst inside, taking off down the halls to the lobby.

Commotion usually a byproduct of rambunctious members of the establishment’s clientele, Irma Goodwin stood up from where she had been sat in her chaise lounge, flirting with customers while they waited to be called upstairs. She lost all light heartedness in her demeanour when she saw, an unconscious woman in his arms, the panicked face of Robert Joseph MacCready. Lifting up her skirt, the forty five year old proprietor rushed over to them and quickly began to guide him through the lobby and down the stairs towards her business partner’s laboratory, shouting for her the entire way down. Never a fan of loud noise or distractions, Dr. Rebecca Madeline Amari snapped at Irma when she pulled open the doors to her laboratory, only to go completely silent when she saw who she was with. Calmly, her voice low, she rolled one of the memory lounges to the side and went into the large storage closet before pulling out a refurbished hospital bed, ordering Irma to bring out all of her medical supplies and equipment. Doing so after shutting the doors to the laboratory again, Irma gave MacCready an unusually soft and sympathetic look when he shakily laid Annette down. Quickly and professionally as ever, the second they were in reach, Amari turned on her machines and began to take readings of Annette’s vitals, her face falling upon seeing them beginning to waver. Wasting no time, she cut open the unconscious woman’s already torn dress to assess the damage, her stomach sinking. Pricking the woman’s finger, she put it on a small card Irma handed her, ordering her to examine it when she gave it back to her.

It was only when he sat down on one of the chairs in the laboratory he realised his clothes and hands were stained with blood.

“Do you know what happened to her?” Amari said, looking over at him before beginning to examine, clean, and prepare to stitch Annette’s wounds shut. “This is –”

“Blood type is B Positive, Amari!” Irma called over to her, running over and into to a small, temperature controlled closet and removing several bags of blood. “For once, having significant amounts of your blood in storage is useful, being a B Positive bitch yourself.”

“This is no time for joking, Irma,” Amari sharply told her when she came back over and started to prepare the blood for transfusion. “You can see how much blood she’s already lost just by looking at her, do not –”

“Don’t let her die!” MacCready realised he had shouted when he broke down sobbing. “She can’t, she –”

“There’s a reason we’re working as quickly as we can, Mister MacCready, but panic isn’t going to do you any good,” She said, closely monitoring Irma before allowing her to come around the other side of her and start a transfusion while she worked as quickly as she could precisely on closing the deepest of Annette’s wounds. “Whomever it was did this wanted her to suffer,” She quietly observed. “Far too deep for her to have done it so…neatly herself.”

“Must have happened within about an hour or an hour and a half or so ago, I’m guessing,” Irma added, keeping her voice low. “Half an hour to an hour or more later, and she’d probably be dead or just about there, and this already doesn’t look good.”

“Workable, but terrible,” Amari replied in hushed tones while she continued to work. “Last time I saw damage this bad was on you after you drunkenly fell through a window and broke the glass.”

“Couldn’t have been an accident. This looks too precise,” Irma said, shaking her head when she slowly inserted the IV into Annette’s left arm. “And I agree whomever it was did this wanted her to suffer. Looks like a knife or something similar was used. Poor thing must have been conscious during at least part of it.”

“Most likely. I’ll have to do some scans once we’ve got her vitals stable again,” Amari said with a worried sigh. “Her still having a pulse and breath – albeit shallow – is a good sign. She’d also be much more colourless and…dying if her brain activity had flatlined. Losing consciousness for a short time, even a few days, is often a self preservation response, lets the body focus on keeping the vital organs fully alive."

“Whatever’s happening, I don’t care as long as she’s going to be able to survive and recover from this,” MacCready said, his voice much quieter and weaker. “Can I…Daisy is with my son but I…can I stay with Annette? Please? Until she…until she’s conscious again?”

Amari hesitated, still focusing on closing Annette’s wounds.

“I wouldn’t usually allow it, but…this is a dire case,” She said, briefly looking over at him. “So, yes. If not for your sake, then for hers. If I were alone when I woke up after something so…well, I would panic, and, in truth? Anyone would.”

Chapter 33: Something Frightening

Chapter Text

Diamond City
February the 3rd, 2289
14:10

“Not surprised the situation with the Nakanos is complicated, Kenji has always been a paranoid parent even when we used to work together, but their daughter being convinced she’s a synth? Haven’t heard that one before.”

Sat across from each other in one of Diamond City’s most luxurious establishments, detective Nicholas Julius Valentine and General Preston Jon Garvey only glanced around every so often when the doors to the building would open and let some of the falling snow fly in. The dirty looks from some of the other patrons also, every few minutes, caught their attention. Yet, wanting both a serious conversation and, in Preston’s case, a meal without shouting and fist fights, the Colonial Taphouse was, they had decided, the best place to go. Per usual, Darcy Pembroke was already deep into a bottle of wine, chatting with the barkeep, Henry Cooke. Feeling superior and at a table in the booth on the other side of the room from the detective and the General, Ann Codman and her husband, Clarence Codman, looked over towards them every so often, with Ann in particular making her displeasure known about in snide comments to Henry whenever he came by with more drinks and tapas for her and her husband. Every time she said something, Nick stifled back a laugh. Though he was certain nearly everything one could say about a synth – good or bad – had already been said to him (or said when no one thought he would hear of it), there was something about her particular disdain he found amusing, almost wanting to remind her of how she had been fascinated by him when she had been a child.

“Hope you don’t mind being up here,” Preston said, drawing the aged detective from his thoughts. “Especially with…how some people have been talking about you.”

“Don’t mind it at all. Hell, if I knew I’d be a hot topic of conversation, I’d have been coming here more often,” Nick said with a wry smile. “And I have to agree with your judgement on eating here rather than at the Dugout. You’d think things would be normal there during daylight hours, but far from it.”

Preston chuckled. “Leave it to Vadim to cause a ruckus at any time. Or facilitate one.”

“With Cait hanging around, hard not to have something of ruckus,” Nick agreed, rolling his eyes. “The girl is a talented fighter, and has some real passion and care in her, but she seems to love very little more than a good fight.”

“She’s gotten warmer, this past year,” Preston noted. “I think being around Nora has been good for her. For both of them, actually. I can’t imagine the grief she’s going through every damn day, but Cait seems to have a way with cheering her up.”

“She really does,” Nick said. “Think Cait keeping her spirits up – even a little – helped keep her from giving up while we were out searching for Kellogg. Wouldn’t have blamed her if she had, given how long it took and how stressful it was, but I’m pretty sure it was Cait who got her through it most.”

“I’m honestly just amazed she’s kept going,” Preston said before shaking his head. “Finding out the Institute are the ones who have your kid? I don’t know if I could have found it in me to go so far as to go into the Glowing Sea to try and find a way into the Institute just to find my kid. Think it would have broken me, to be honest.”

“A mother’s love endures through all,” Nick said, his face falling. “But I can’t say I’m not worried about her state of mind. I’ve been worried about it for awhile – since offing Kellogg – but I keep coming back to it. I don’t want to judge her. She’s been through the kind of hell no human being deserves to go through. At the same time, though, there’s something about the way she’s been since killing him that doesn’t feel quite right.”

Preston raised an eyebrow. “How so? She’s seemed about the same to me. More…downtrodden, but still the same person.”

“It’s the anger, the short temper and…” Nick paused, gathering his thoughts. “What has really stuck with me and what I can’t shake is the look on her face and the…sharp, cold way she spoke when we took a closer look at Kellogg’s body after killing him. She saw the cybernetics in his chest – and there were a lot of them – and said ‘you were barely even human,’ before telling me she’d kill him again and he deserved it. Kellogg was a monster of a human being; I’m not denying that. But it scared me when she said it, even more so when she told me and Amari she thinks he deserved a worse fate than what he got.”

“I mean, it’s a jarring thing to hear,” Preston conceded. “You’ve seen a hell of a lot, Nick, and I trust your judgement. If you’re worried about anyone, I’m sure you have a good reason for it. But I think she’s just in a dark place and is struggling to work through it.”

“I hope you’re right,” Nick said grimly. “Maybe I’ve been out here too long and become pessimistic.”

“Hard not to be,” Preston sighed. “I’m proud of what we in the Minutemen have been able to do, but it doesn’t feel like it’s enough. That’s part of why we’re going to scout out the Castle, soon. If we can get a radio communications system set up from the one still there, we’ll be able to communicate better with not only each other but the people who need us. At least, I hope it’ll allow us to do that.”

“You’re all doing fine work for the people out here,” Nick said with a small smile. “Does the old heart good to see. Not much altruism left in the Commonwealth.”

“Not getting any from the Institute at any rate,” Preston said, frowning. “Or the Brotherhood, for that matter. The way they handle interacting with people in the Commonwealth has left a really bad taste in my mouth. I’m glad people have been willing to push back, with or without our assistance, but it makes me uneasy, having them here, especially since they have yet to learn the Commonwealth belongs to all of us, not just the Institute, and not just them.”

“Not to mention their leader, Maxson? Man’s a lunatic,” Nick irritably said. “Speaking of him and the Brotherhood, have they been bothering that town down south you guys now protect again? The one used to be part of the University Of Massachusetts?”

“University Point? No, although, I’m getting concerned by the lack of contact from our men there,” He hesitated. “After talking it through with Sturges and Derek, I think we’re going to head down there by the end of the month if we don’t hear anything. We haven’t heard anything out of them since…mid November, I’m pretty sure. We assumed that meant things were going fine, but I’m starting to worry.”

“Could be the Brotherhood scared them all into silence,” Nick remarked. “I’d believe it.”

“I would too, which is why I’m hoping things are alright but they’re being extra cautious, not wanting to risk somehow slighting the Brotherhood," Preston said. “What with the townspeople having already been paid a less than pleasant visit from them, after all.”

“The people there have been given the shortest stick in the Commonwealth, far as I can tell,” Nick said darkly. “They have the Institute to contend with and now the Brotherhood? Can’t think of many worse corners to be in than that one.”

“Everything to do with the Institute’s presence there is…odd to me,” Preston admitted. “They were so willing to compromise with them and do so in the open and yet they won’t come out from wherever it is they are in the Commonwealth? It doesn’t make sense.”

“Institute wanted the girl and the data she had. Easier than taking out a whole town,” Nick replied. “I’m more so surprised they kept their promise to them about the girl being allowed to visit her father, but that’s neither here nor there. Sure they have their reasons. Real question is: do we want to know ‘em?”

Preston considered that. “Honestly, I’m not sure if knowing would make it better or worse."

“Hard to tell with the Institute,” Nick sombrely said. “I want to believe they have good intentions, not because they made me but because I’d rather not have people in the Commonwealth to have to worry about the Institute all the damn time. They have immense resources, and, according to Virgil, the former Institute scientist Nora and I met, they do take a lot of people in from the surface because they can see their intellect and worth. Think the number he gave us was seventy two percent of the hundreds of people they take each year.”

Preston stared at him a moment. “Hundreds?” He repeated. “I’d have thought less than ten. Guess the Institute’s bigger than I thought.”

“A lot bigger, from what he gave us to understand,” Nick said with a sigh. “They’re underneath the ruins of the former Commonwealth Institute Of Technology, but they’ve, I’m sure, extended far beyond being underneath the campus which, if I recall correctly, was a hundred and sixty eight acres going at least a mile down along the Cambridge side of the Charles River Basin. People are resilient as hell, but they’re more spread out, now, than they were back then and, resilient or not, the bombs threw everything to sh*t and killed far too many people and for no good, damned reason. If we’re spread out up here, the Institute must be spread out down there, too. From what I understand, before the War, the population of Massachusetts was around seven million, and that’s dropped to probably around five million, since, if I had to guess.”

“How many of those you reckon are in the Institute, then?” Preston said, curiosity piqued. “Assuming you’re including them.”

“I am, and I’d probably put at least a good couple hundred thousand being in the Institute,” Nick said, taking out a pen and notebook. “I don’t remember my time in the Institute. From my understanding, no synth does. Only synth I’ve ever met who does has gone under multiple experimental procedures with Amari to recover her memories, and it has been hell for her. But my point is this: the Institute may have started underneath the ruins of the CIT, but they wouldn’t have been able to keep going without expanding their facilities underground. My guess? They’ve dug deeper and deeper, and farther and farther out from east to west and created the closest thing we have left in this world to a bustling metropolis.”

“Guess it makes sense the Brotherhood have been building the hell out of the old airport, then,” Preston said, falling silent in consideration. “Seems more and more of their troops fly in daily. How ever many people they brought with them when they first arrived in June has at least doubled since then with their…reinforcements. Last time Derek and I talked about it, he recalled – at least in 2279, after they defeated the ‘Enclave’ – the Brotherhood in the Capital Wasteland had about four hundred thousand members, spread all the way up and down from North Carolina to Pennsylvania. This has to be only a fraction of their troops.”

“And they had been sending people up here for years before their leadership arrived,” Nick said, writing a few notes down. “I can’t tell you what fraction of their troops are here, and, hell, my own guesses on how many people there are in the Commonwealth – with the Institute or not – are something of a shot in the dark. But I can tell you, with them building a military base out of an airport that would have seen hundreds of thousands of people pass through it a week? They’re not going to stop bringing their troops here any time soon, and how ever many people they’ve already got here is only going to get bigger.”

“That’s what I’m afraid of,” Preston said tiredly. “The Brotherhood could easily replace the Institute as the biggest threat to the Commonwealth, and, in some ways, maybe they already have.”

“They have,” Nick told him. “The Institute ain’t playing no bullsh*t games with us about how much they care. The Brotherhood are, and that’s what makes them dangerous.”

The Commonwealth
February the 10th, 2289
14:13

A doughnut shop.

It was a doughnut shop.

Even a couple hundred metres back, it was clear there were Institute synths present. The grating mechanical voices were distant but clear enough in the crisp winter air. The pale blue lights emanating from their ‘eyes’ and the guns they carried reflected harshly off the lightly falling snow, a few small drifts already building up. Nora narrowly glanced between Deacon and his ‘tourist’ and closely watched them move slowly towards another spot closer to the old doughnut shop. Cait, getting antsy, kept fidgeting with her winter coat, pulling the hood on and off to keep herself from playing with her gun. When they began to follow Deacon and his ‘tourist,’ Nick took one last look around before going after them, uneasy when he saw the way Nora scowled at Deacon making lighthearted comments every so often. A few minutes more of slow, methodical walking, and they crouched down behind a tree and a growing snow drift. A bit nearer than before, the sight of the synths were, at least, clearer. It was as the enigmatic agent had said they would be; first and second generation synths, the ones with fully mechanical bodies, a few replicated human organs, and an unnerving, metallic voice. Looking rather annoyed and brushing his (falsely) long blonde hair over his shoulder, Deacon sighed, and waved Nora, Cait, Nick, and his tourist over to him.

“Your recon was good, Ricky,” He said, careful to keep his voice low. “Exactly what headquarters was expecting. Sorry you had to scout it out for so long.”

“Part of the job,” He grunted. “Done my part. Can I head out?”

“You’re not even going to help us get in there?” Nora said irritably. “You’re useless. If the Institute ran you all out of this place, why the hell wouldn’t you assume they’d still be active around an area they know you’ve been and had, presumably, been for a long time?”

“Gathering information is my job,” Ricky told her, standing up and readjusting his bag on his shoulders. “Now, if you’ll excuse me, I’m going home. I’m sure you can more than handle yourselves with Deacon assisting you. He may be a bit of a disaster of a human being, but he’s good at what he does.”

Cait rolled her eyes. “Spent more than a few years of me life in the Combat Zone. Trust me when I say I can more than handle a few synths.”

“Won’t be just a few,” Deacon warned her. “There’s no more than – probably – fifteen to twenty of them out front, but this is the Institute we’re dealing with. There’s going to be a hell of a lot more once we actually get into Switchboard. Too damn many of our agents got massacred here, so there’s also a good chance of coming across some skeletons. They’ve been dead on the floor since the summer of 2287. Doubt there’s much of them left, unfortunately, but they died heroes.”

“Doesn’t give me much hope,” Nick said cautiously. “If the Institute’s still scraping through the place nearly two years later, then they’re probably looking for something specific.”

“We don’t think they know about Carrington’s prototype, but it could be that they’re looking for,” Deacon said, shaking his head. “And we really don’t want them to find out we’re no dumbasses when it comes to technology. They may be lightyears –”

“Unit of distance, not time,” Nora muttered.

“– Ahead of us, but we’re not a bunch of idiots knocking their heads around to see what sticks,” He went on. “Tom’s brilliant. If he weren’t with us, I bet the Institute would’ve found and recruited him by now. Also probably would have been able to get him clean.”

“Sure, because that’s the solution to everything,” Cait said dryly. “Toss away the chems and suddenly life is amazing! Beautiful! Fantastic!”

“Only thing ‘amazing, beautiful, and fantastic,’ is my hair,” Deacon said, swishing his long blonde tresses in the falling snow. “I sometimes go in and change something about my face every few months, too. Eyebrows, lash extensions, nose jobs, the works. There’s this merc in Goodneighbour whose girlfriend doesn’t like it. Or me. Though she’s not exactly a pleasant taste herself. Did look hot in a Vault suit, though. Don’t know why she doesn’t wear tighter clothes more often. She’s got a good rack.”

“Charming,” Nora said, her nose wrinkling in disgust. “You talk about all women like that or just a few?”

“Just an observation, Jesus, you’re touchy,” Deacon said, putting his hands up in mock surrender. “But I guess it’s not relevant to what we’re here for. At all. So…back to business. I know it sounds – and looks – ridiculous to say our base of operations was out of that doughnut shop, but it was a lot better than it sounds until it was all blown to hell.”

Nick frowned. “How bad was it?”

“A complete and utter disaster,” Deacon sombrely replied. “The place was strong and defensible, and, hell, we thought it was secure but, in a matter of a few minutes one day in the damned dead of summer, a bunch of first and second gen Institute synths breached the doors and turned the place into a shooting gallery. The survivours – me, Tom, Des, Carrington, Glory, and Hadley included – didn’t have time to grab anything. It was a nightmare. Last time Hadley ever did any outright surface work, other than talking with people and making sure people leave or enter for their mind wipes. Really got to her.”

“She’s a hell of a lot more sensitive and anxious than you might assume,” Nick agreed with a sigh. “So, take it the front doors ain’t looking like a good option?”

“No can do. Unless you want to get massacred. That’s why we’ll have to go through the escape outlet, which, unfortunately is through a sewer tunnel,” Deacon said, turning to Nora. “I’d consider it a close personal favour,” He jokingly began. “If you don’t give up all the information on us to the Institute after we help you get in.”

“Because I’m going to be leaping to cooperate with the assholes who took my son and husband from me,” Nora dryly snapped. “Do I look like an idiot to you? I don’t care how nicely they may have kept things for my baby, they let him become Kellogg’s living doll!”

Deacon grimaced. “Sorry, should have realised you’re not the joking type.”

Not dignifying him with a response, Nora recomposed herself by taking a look about their surroundings and reloading her gun. Cait did the same and winked at her when they stood up and, Nick shortly behind them, began following Deacon towards the aforementioned sewer tunnel. Not too fond of the idea of sludging through a sewer tunnel, Nick tried to keep himself focused on the mission rather than the impending awful, foul odour waiting for them. Can’t eat or drink but I can hear, speak, smell, breathe, can take in and receive tactile sensation. Institute could have at least gone all the way making me. Checking to ensure his gun was ready to fire, the aged detective paused a minute and, when he looked back up, he saw Deacon waving frantically at him. Snowfall getting heavier, the detective holstered his gun and began running to reach where the enigmatic agent was under a tree, Nora and Cait about a metre away from him. When he reached them, the enigmatic agent began rapidly listing things off, from more (somewhat incoherent) information on what had caused the abandonment of the location as headquarters in the first place to warnings about the potential rewiring of security measures they had created within the complex. He stopped talking when he was satisfied they knew enough and began walking again with them close on his heels.

Dusting off a few of the ever growing layers of snow on what he was nearly certain to be the access point to the sewer tunnel, Deacon clicked his gloved fingers against each other with a smirk when he was proven correct. A small snow drift partially obstructed the access point from the ground. The moss nearly always hanging down over it from the top had turned into an icy curtain. Wasting little time, Deacon began hacking at the ice wrapped moss with the butt of his gun, nearly being nicked on the cheek by Cait and her twin switchblades when she pushed in front of him to cut them down. Making short work of it, she sheathed her twin switchblades on her hips and began kicking down the snow at the base of the access point. More restrained, Deacon began swiping away at it by hand until it was cast aside enough to be passable. One by one, they went into the access point, soon reaching the door at the end of the small bit of tunnel visible from within the mounds of earth and rubble. Deacon removed a key from within one of his coat pockets when Nora, Cait, and Nick were standing beside him in front of the door. He jammed it into the lock on the doorknob, letting out a light sigh of relief when he found it to still fit and, sure enough, it clicked and the door unlocked, creaking open when he pushed it.

“We’re going to take this slow and dip our feet into the water,” Deacon said, keeping his voice low. “The water might be full of bullets, so be ready for a fire fight.”

“Promising,” Nora said under her breath. “Just what I was planning on doing today.”

“What are we looking for?” Nick whispered to Deacon, warily glancing at Nora. “Do you have anything on it, now?”

“I do, but, for now, I can’t tell you any more about it other than I know where it is, it’s important, and it was developed by our good old Dr. Carrington himself,” Deacon said, sighing when Nora’s gaze narrowed. “Sorry, but strategic ignorance has saved our organisation more times than I can count. Just know it’s real important to our work, and Des wouldn’t have us go and risk our hides on a whim.”

“Where is it, then?” Cait said, pinching her nose shut in disgust. “This place smells worse than the Combat Zone.”

“Part of why it was so useful as a hiding place for our headquarters deeper in this sh*t,” He said with a shrug. “In all seriousness, though, the Institute could have just about anything waiting for us down here. Guarantee you there’ll be lots of first and second generation synths, seeing as they let some roam around outside the main entrance and out in the open.”

Nora scoffed. “And, if it weren’t for your former ‘Courser’ refusing to help, this could be a lot easier or not even need us in the first place. Provided she’s as formidable an enemy as Coursers supposedly are.”

“Glory’s reservations are legitimate, even if you don’t agree with her,” Deacon said uncomfortably. “She sees things in shades of grey you won’t. The synths didn’t start off as nigh perfect copies of human beings, and the Institute spent decades if not centuries working up to that level of hubris. Since the first and second generation synths were stepping stones along the way, the Railroad’s not fully united on how we feel about them.”

“It’s a touchy subject, understandably,” Nick mildly noted. “Can’t say I blame any of you for having strong feelings on the matter.”

“Some of it’s pretty easy,” Deacon said with a half hearted shrug. “Everyone, for instance, wants to liberate the third generations. It’s just people like Glory who think we should help the earlier models, too. I go back and forth on it. Seems the first generations especially are basically the same as a Protectron but, maybe, they’re really good at faking being incapable of sentience like the third generations. So, you know, the line is muddy. Any time it gets brought up, there’s fireworks and all the old arguments flare up. Glory is the most hardline on her stance, but some others won’t run missions like this either. But none of that’s why we’re here.”

Nick shortly nodded. “Let’s get down to business, then.”

“Not a problem,” Deacon said, a little unsettled when Nora glared at him for winking at her. “A couple hundred metres down from here,” He started. “The tunnel opens up and the facility’s back entrance becomes accessible, meaning the first step is to get there and override the security lockdown. With any luck, I’ll remember the password to unlock the door in. Having to beat it in with a sledgehammer or something doesn’t sound fun.”

“You got a sledgehammer?” Cait said, her eyes glinting mischievously when he nodded and slid off his snow dusted hiking backpack to start rummaging through it. “Mind if I test it out?”

“If you don’t tell Glory I let you bash heads in,” Deacon replied, pulling it out and tossing it to her. “Be careful with that. It’s heavier than it looks.”

“I’ve used heavier things,” Cait said, grinning when she caught the sledgehammer. “Seems you’re more fun than I thought you were.”

Nervously nodding, Deacon zipped the bag back up and slid it back up over his shoulders. More than ready to get as far away from the rank smell permeating from the tunnel, Nora went after him, quick as she could, with Cait and Nick not far behind her. Cait swore to herself when she realised she had, in the few minutes they had paused, gotten used to the odour. Disgusted, the former cage fighter took off down the tunnel, sledgehammer in hand, and ran as long as she could before needing to stop and catch her breath. Seeing the exit of the tunnel, she all but leapt through it, only looking back to make sure Nora, Nick, and Deacon were still coming as well. The three of them crossed the threshold into the small room no more than a minute after her. Relieved to find the computer terminal still intact on the wall, Deacon briefly panicked when he struggled to turn it on. The second the login screen loaded, he let out a small cheer, then quickly entering the first password he remembered. When it didn’t work, he chewed at the inside of his cheeks in thought before recalling the second. Getting antsy, Cait stepped over towards the door into the deeper parts of the facility, lightly tapping the sledgehammer against the bottom of the door. She nearly fell through it when the door suddenly swung open, Deacon finally having gotten the correct password and entering the commands to open the door.

“I’ll be looking for rail signs, symbols we use to send messages to each other,” Deacon walked through the door backwards, waiting a little ways down into the narrow corridor for Cait, Nora, and Nick walk through the door themselves. “And, if you like the sound of that, we got signs and countersigns – like you saw me use with Ricky – and dead drops and even a secret handshake.”

“Secret handshake?” Nora dubiously repeated. “Are you trying to make yourselves seem like a gang?”

“In some ways,” Deacon said with a shrug before turning around and kneeling down about halfway down the corridor. “Someone left one here. This one means danger. Yeah, we know, you poor dead bastard, we know.”

“How many people did you lose when the Institute attacked?” Nick said when the enigmatic agent stood back up and began walking again. “Guessing it wasn’t pretty, from what you’ve said.”

“We had been harbouring about…fifteen or so synths down here, and, seeing as this was our headquarters, we had a couple hundred people living and working down here. Those of us in the current headquarters? We’re some of the few who survived,” Deacon said, pausing when they reached the end of the corridor and stepped onto a catwalk above a small room. “Damn…” He said, heading towards the stairs down into the room. “Never gets easier, seeing the bodies of your friends. Even after they’ve turned to skeletons.”

“Institute must’ve looted whatever they might have had with ‘em, too,” Cait said, looking disappointed. “Too bad we can’t take some of the useful sh*te they might have had on ‘em.”

Deacon shook his head. “Doesn’t matter what they could have or couldn’t have had with them. They were real people who didn’t deserve to die just so their bodies could be picked clean for goods.”

When he began darting down the stairs, Cait groaned upon seeing a pool of water at the bottom, and a web of pipes forming a smaller and smaller second corridor. Muttering to herself about needing to take a long bath in perfume, Cait irritably swung the sledgehammer back up to carry it rather than drag it along the metal, rock, and brick. Just as annoyed at having to slog through the cloudy, piss and sh*t littered water below, Nora covered her nose and mouth with one hand and tried not to start swearing when she began wading through the ankle deep water a metre behind Deacon, Cait and Nick barely a foot behind her. To all of their mild relief, the water level grew lower and lower until they reached a completely dry, slightly larger third corridor which opened up to another catwalk and set of stairs down into a small room. Passing a few more skeletons, Deacon took in a deep breath to keep himself calm. Then, he began down the stairs, pausing and throwing his arms out behind him to tell Nora, Nick, and Cait to stop upon hearing the sound of footsteps nearby, and the sloshing of more water at the bottom of the room. Drawing his gun, he slowly began to make his way down, and, sure enough, there were several first and second generation synths patrolling a few metres away from them when they reached the bottom.

Not a second to waste, Deacon started across the room, firing on the synths only moments before they noticed him, Nora, Cait, and Nick. The awful grating sounds of their automated voices and the metallic whirring of their systems as they began to fire on the four, Nora slipped past Deacon and shot at a few of the synths from behind, moving as far across the room and away from the deepest parts of the pooling water as she could. Ever cautious, Nick aimed for the torso and fired on the synths with the most distance between them and him as possible. Deacon nonchalantly shot round after round from where he had slid to be in nearly the middle of the room where the water was the deepest. Having no desire to step in any more of the water than she had to, Cait ducked out of the way of the shots both from the synths and her companions, making her way across the room along the wall on the left side. Briefly panicking when one of the synths got within arms reach of her, the former cage fighter swung the sledgehammer in her hands up to try and hit its head. When she finally managed to hit it, the swing bashed the synth’s head into the wall and, for good measure, she smacked it against it a few more times until the circuitry and wires in its head and neck were fully visible.

Soon enough, the only sounds left were those of their own breathing and the sloshing of the water under their feet.

“Damn, that was impressive,” Deacon said when Cait, looking bored of it, tossed the sledgehammer into the water with the shorted out and broken synths. “Here she is!” He said, clapping. “The one, the only – Cait!” He smirked. “Is that how they used to do it in the Combat Zone? Never got the chance to see more than a few minutes of any of your fights…while there on undercover business, of course.”

“I’d be glad to show you how we did things in the Combat Zone, Deacon,” Cait said, taking out, aiming, and tossing her twin knives into the wall barely two inches away from his right ear. “Name the time and the place.”

He jumped to the side when he realised how close her knives had been to his ears.

“On second thought,” He said when she came over and ripped them out of the dirt wall. “I’ll just stick to watching you fight.”

Cait rolled her eyes. “puss*.”

Giving her a nervous smile, the enigmatic agent quickly reloaded his gun and made his way to the other end of the room and towards the opening to a much larger corridor, which Nora was already waiting in front of, arms crossed. Eager to get out of the room and away from its smell, Cait darted past him and towards Nora, letting out a sigh of relief when she found the smell was less intense, the water abating a few feet away from the opening into the larger corridor. Deacon waved at them to follow him the second he was within arms length of them, and, albeit a bit begrudgingly, they did. Nick lingered in the opening when he reached them, taking one last look back from where they had come to check to see if they were being tracked. He went after them when it was clear they were alone. The bright white spotlights that had lined the walls since exiting the tunnels turned back into low red safety lights, and the foul odour of the sewer water dissipated into the rusty smell of wet dirt and clay. Down one corridor, then into another. A few sets of stairs, going down deeper into the earth. Another corridor, turning into another. More sets of stairs down and, then, they reached the entrance to another large sewer pipe, though slightly drier than the one giving entrance to the underground maze.

Hearing nothing but the echoes of their own footsteps and breaths as they began walking through the tunnel, an uneasy feeling began to settle over them. Almost itching for a fight, her hands shaky, Cait paused and let Nick walk past her, pausing a moment to take a few doses of buffout out from in her coat pocket. Closing her eyes, she dry swallowed the pills, gagging a little in the process and telling herself it was due to the return of the foul odour of the sewage water under her boots. Seeing Nora, Nick, and Deacon were almost disappeared farther down the tunnel, the former cage fighter took off after them, skidding to a halt when she reached them and saw, just ahead, the pipe was partly broken through, creating a space just big enough to squeeze through and into a small corridor with a door into another room in the wall no more than a metre away from where they had entered the corridor. Pushing past the other three with him, Deacon ran towards a computer terminal on the wall near the door. Letting out a sigh of relief when its login screen loaded faster than the first had, he quickly began entering passwords, just as relieved when he entered the correct one on only the second try. A few quick keystrokes, and the door into the room opened, revealing a large room on the other side of which were a set of half ajar double doors.

Hearing the telltale voices of the first and second generation synths again seeping through the doors, Deacon swore under his breath but steadied himself to open fire the moment they pushed through the doors. Sure enough, at least a dozen synths were patrolling within, and turned towards the clanging of the metal doors being pushed open and smacking into the doorframes. Nora swore when some of the shots from their laser weapons by the synths singed her coat. Shooting down two of the synths that had hit her, she wasn’t fast enough to get out of the way of another shot from another synth that burned through one of her gloves and partially burned the front of her right hand. Letting out an angered cry of pain, the lawyer dodged out of the line of fire of a few of the synths approaching her, hitting one of them in the back of the knees with several shots from her revolver and another in the torso. Almost hit by another synth with the butt of its gun, Nora nearly stumbled back into a wall trying to get out of the way, relieved when, in the chaos, Cait grabbed the synth into a chokehold with her entire left arm. Not wasting the chance, the lawyer shot the synth in the chest a few times before Cait fired a final shot into its head. Both of them breathing heavily, Nora half heartedly smiled at Cait when the former cage fighter smiled at her; the moment of levity not lasting long enough.

Ever swift on her feet, adrenaline (and drugs) coursing through her veins, Cait reloaded her shotgun and ran at a synth trying to shoot Nick, tackling it to the ground before shooting its head clean off. The aged detective skidded back, looking startled, shooting at another synth reloading its laser pistol and downing it with a few well aimed shots to the head and shoulders. Trying to get out of the way of the gunfire, her right hand hurting like hell, Nora began running up one of the two sets of stairs to a second level in the massive room. A bit annoyed when she saw Deacon already up there and, annoyingly, nonchalantly sitting on the railings and shooting at the synths down below, the lawyer knelt down and tried to steady her increasingly shaky hands. Her sights set on one of the remaining synths, she began to quickly fire at it and, to her relief, managed to get it down before having to reload her revolver. Deacon winked at her in approval, to which she rolled her eyes and did her best to keep focused and ignore the increasingly painful sensation of the burn on her right hand. One shot. Another. Another. Taking no chances, Nick shot at one of the synths Cait seemed ready to take to the ground before she could, only for her to leap in front of him no more than a few seconds later, pushing him back from being hit by a few quick shots from one of the remaining synths. He swore when the edge of his trench coat got singed by another one of the synths but made short work of it the second his gun was reloaded.

Little by little, the sound and the fury of the synths grew weaker and weaker. Deacon slid down the railing he had been sat upon to shoot one of the synths in the side of its torso from closer and closer. Nora shot down and ducked out of the way of a few shots at her from where she was still knelt at the top of one of the stairs, the pain in her hand getting worse by the minute. Careful not to accidentally hit the increasingly erratic Cait, Nick focused on two of the quicker synths, swearing under his breath when he missed one of them by mere centimetres. About to shoot one of the synths clean through the torso, Deacon misfired and hit the wall when, startling him, Cait grabbed another synth in a chokehold with her left arm, shooting the other synth in the shoulder with her shotgun, struggling to fire it with one of her hands in an awkward position with her arm tightly wrapped around its neck. When Nora shot down the synth whose shoulder had been torn open by Cait, the former cage fighter whipped around to kick the synth she had restrained in the chest but fell over in the process, getting dizzy. In a stroke of luck, she still managed to shoot it in the neck, and began stumbling back up to her feet. Shot after shot rang out and, then, the sounds of their gunfire were all that remained, the synths shorted out and broken on the ground.

“Well,” Deacon said, dusting himself off and turning to Nick. “So far so good. All I got to ask is you don’t sell us out to the Institute on the way out.”

Nick chuckled. “Friend, you got nothing to worry about. Me and the Institute haven’t been on speaking terms for a long time.”

“Won’t want you back after this,” Cait said with a smirk, holstering her shotgun, though she lost all humour in her voice when Nora came down from the stairs, clutching her burned hand. “f*cker. Just a –”

“This has been a great time, hasn’t it?” Nora said, swearing when the former cage fighter suddenly grabbed her hand and began squeezing a bit of gel onto it. “Damn it, that stings.”

“Going to wrap it up, lassie, don’t worry,” Cait said, dropping the bottle of gel to grab a roll of gauze from in her bag, haphazardly hanging off her left shoulder. “Stupid lasers hurt more than they should. Got a real nasty burn from one of those about halfway up and across me right leg a few years back. The motherf*cker responsible for it got a nasty surprise when I found out where he and his gang were holed up in an alley in Goodneighbour. Hanco*ck approved.”

“I’m sure he did,” Nick said, laughing a little before letting out a low whistle when he took a better look at their surroundings. “Well, guess the pre-War government spared no expense making another place to run their dirty little secrets out of.”

“From what we’ve learnt over the years, this was just one of the ‘Defence Intelligence Agency’s’ secret complexes in good old Massachusetts,” Deacon said with a dramatic shake out of his falsely long blonde hair. “This one was a research lab, and, like the others, never officially existed. They called it the Switchboard. The DIA eggheads spent their precious brain cells here trying to outwit the Red Menace. The prototype is locked up in the heart of the facility.”

Nora raised an eyebrow. “A research lab? For what?”

“Something called the ‘Predictive Analytic Machine,’” Deacon replied, a little excited. “I don’t know how it works, but it’s one of the coolest pieces of tech I’ve ever seen. Basically, the government began the project a decade before the War – far as we’ve ever been able to gather – and wanted to have a machine capable of accurately predicting the future and, specifically, foreseeing and stopping a nuclear war before it could happen. Didn’t exactly go as planned.”

“Clearly,” Nora said, flinching a little when Cait tightly tied off the gauze she had been wrapping around her burnt hand. “If it weren’t for the absolute mess this place has been left in, I’d want to take a better look at it and whatever research they left behind. It’s no forensics or crime lab, but it has potentially fascinating research nonetheless, I'm betting, and, also, is the second most important government run laboratory I’ve ever been able to access.”

Deacon stared at her in surprise. “What was the most important, then?”

“The FBI Laboratory in Quantico, Virginia,” Nora said with a faintly glib smile. “I was asked to accompany the district attorney I was working with on a case to the lab so she could receive some of the processed evidence and discretely bring them back to Massachusetts.”

“Wonder if the place is still standing,” Nick mused. “If it is, I could probably be talked into visiting it under the right circ*mstances.”

“Well, either way, welcome to the Switchboard,” Deacon said, starting up one of the two staircases to the second level again. “It was a pretty sweet place to call home, if I do say so myself.”

“If you’re interested in and can understand pre-War government research,” Nora muttered, heading up the stairs only a few paces behind him, Cait by her side and slinging her bag back over both her shoulders again. “Which seems to be a serious if.”

“Surprised the Institute didn’t find this place before you,” Cait remarked. “A research lab of any type sounds like something they’d have a f*cking party in.”

“Had a kind of party in here,” Deacon said grimly, picking the lock into the room at the top of the second level. “It was only fun for them, though. We had try to not get killed by their Coursers. They sent some first and second gens down here at first, too, but they didn’t need to. The Coursers could have done the job all on their own. I joke about it, but they really are top of the line tech in the Institute’s ‘let’s f*ck up your day’ deck. If they have anything more powerful than Coursers, then the rest of us are f*cked.”

“Hate to agree,” Nick said with a frown, stepping through the door just after him, Nora, and Cait. “I’ve heard rumours about them over the years, and each one is nastier than the last. Lots of people didn’t even think they were real at one point, but, as a synth myself, when someone says the Institute is capable of something, I tend to err on the side of caution and believe them.”

“Can’t think of much they aren’t capable of,” Nora said, irritably stepping through another pair of large metal doors Deacon kicked loose after they got caught on their hinges. “Seeing as they have their ‘Molecular Relay.’”

“That,” Nick conceded. “Is something even I would have had to think twice about if it weren’t for seeing it with my own eyes in Kellogg’s memories.”

“Explained a hell of a lot to us,” Deacon said, lowering his voice when they turned left from a small corridor and into a messy office. “Part of why Des is so fascinated by the schematics for an interceptor of its signal you got from the ex-Institute egghead.”

“Funny,” Nora said dryly when they pushed open and stepped through another set of metal doors at the back of the office and into another short corridor. “If she’s so interested in them and wouldn’t have them without me, then why is she having me go on a wild goose chase through a government facility with you to get some fabled prototype?”

“Caution,” Deacon said shortly, waving them to follow after him as he turned left at the end of the corridor before turning left again down a much smaller corridor a few feet farther down, walking backwards the whole way down. “The work we do is sensitive and –”

The sound of a laser weapon firing ringing out, the enigmatic agent turned quickly on his heel, only to swear when one of the shots fired brushed his neck and unevenly singed his wig off from just above his shoulders. More upset than he would ever admit to at his favourite wig being ruined, Deacon impulsively charged into the room the corridor opened up into and began opening fire on the first synth he saw, two others quickly coming into his field of view. Still annoyed by her burnt hand and a little amused to see how annoyed Deacon seemed at his wig being ruined, Nora quickly entered the room as well and began firing on the synth backing into the left corner near what appeared to be a large bank vault. Sweeping up some of the hair cut off from Deacon’s wig on a whim, Cait slipped past him, Nora, and Nick to throw the jagged pieces of hair at the synths to distract them. The second they were out of her hands, she pulled her shotgun back out from its holster and aimed it at the head of the synth closest to her. When she managed to shoot it off, she cheered, laughing when Nora, Nick, and Deacon took down the other two synths no more than a few seconds later. Flipping her shotgun into the air and catching it with one hand, Cait looped an arm around Nora’s waist and grinned when the lawyer smiled at her.

“I think the wig looks better f*cked up,” The former cage fighter whispered to her. “Less pretentious for sure, ain’t it?”

Nora laughed. “Hard to look more pretentious,” She said, taking a small step back when the door to the vault began to creak open. “This where your prototype is hidden?” She called over to Deacon.

“It is,” Deacon cheerfully replied, stepping away from the computer terminal to the right of the vault door. “Fingers crossed the Institute weren’t smart enough to send one of their people to come and check if there’s anything worth taking in here.”

“One would hope,” Nora said, startling when she noticed a skeleton bent over on the floor next to a large, overturned metal shelf. “That one of your people or…”

“It is and…” Deacon sighed, his voice and countenance suddenly serious, kneeling down to carefully remove a gun caught in between the skeleton’s fingers. “Guess I should have known you didn’t make it, Tommy. f*ck,” He bowed his head and made the sign of the cross when he noticed a few bullet holes in the skull, feeling sick when he saw the bullet casings too. “Wish we could have saved you from having to…make the choice to end it in here or die from…natural causes.”

“Don’t tell me his gun is your fabled prototype,” Nora irritably said. “If we came all this way to –”

“Nope, this…” He went silent while he carefully put the gun into his bag. “This was just his special ordinance made by Tinker. He’s brilliant. A little nuts, sometimes, but brilliant. This gun was cutting edge, old world tech that he restored. It’s powerful and, more importantly, quiet. Don’t think there’s another weapon like it. The prototype…” He said, stepping around the overturned shelf and towards another set of shelves still up against the wall. “Is this right here.”

Nora frowned when he removed a small device from one of the boxes.

“That’s it?” She said, critically observing as he carefully set it back in the box to open his large hiking backpack. “Are you kidding me?”

“Nope,” Deacon said, taking a metal container out of his backpack, quickly removing the lid and setting the device into the foam lined interior. “This is the honest to God prototype developed for us by good Dr. Stanley Carrington himself,” He smiled at Nora while he sealed the box again, unperturbed when she merely crossed her arms in return. “Quid pro quo and all. Hard part is over.”

“Then let’s get out of here,” She frigidly replied. “I’m tired of this f*cking charade.”

“Just a few minutes,” Deacon reassured her when he slipped the box with the prototype inside back into his backpack and zipped it shut. “I…I know I don’t look like it but,” He fell silent, sliding his backpack back on and stepping back over to the skeleton, once again kneeling down and bowing his head. “Having been raised Catholic, and with Tommy having been such a good friend and person I…I need to take a few minutes to pray for him.”

“Of course,” Nick politely replied. “We’ll be right outside.”

“Thank you,” Deacon said, briefly glancing back at them and taking a rosary out from one of his coat pockets. “For being willing to help us, too. I know it’s not what you were betting on but, I promise, we’ll fulfil our end of the bargain and, really…thanks for understanding why we…needed you to do this.”

“I don’t understand,” Nora said tiredly. “But I accept this is what I need to do to get your help and, if it gets me to my son, then so be it.”

The Prydwen
February the 13th, 2289
16:08

“Scribe Neriah and her team are giving the twins their first baths and will do their heel prick for blood type and DNA right there after. You’ll be able to see them soon, Elder.”

“And Karissa? Where is she? Is she alright?”

“In surgery. She struggled during their birth and tore badly. You’ll be able to see her afterwards, once she’s stable and wakes up.”

“Why wasn’t I told about this immediately? Why did seemingly everyone wait to tell me my wife went into labour?”

“You’ve been in Strategic Command meetings all day, since 5:00, Elder. It would have been imprudent to cause a disruption to those meetings.”

“I don’t care how ‘disruptive’ you think it would have been. You’re talking about my wife and our children! And – let me be clear – she is going to survive this. I don’t give a damn what it costs.”

Sick. Angry. Nervous. A mix of emotions Elder Arthur Jonathan Maxson never wanted to feel at the same time. It unnerved him. After years and years dedicated to becoming impossible to faze, a quick thinker and tactician, and an adeptly trained combatant, he had learnt to put emotions away, in little boxes for each one, not to be mixed to avoid them clouding judgement. It was infuriating to be unable to do so. His mind wandered but then became calm by realisation. The sick feeling came from the same place as the nervous feeling, he was certain; natural concern for his wife and newborn children. The anger was from his direct orders being disobeyed. There were many rules and protocols among those in the Brotherhood, some of which even went unspoken, but highest among them was to never disobey direct orders from the Elder. He had been clear. If his wife were to go into labour, he was to be told and permitted to be there. Frustration building, he began to irritably pace in the quarters he shared with his wife and, now, their two children. About to snap at whomever it was opening the door, he caught himself when he saw who it was and with whom they were with.

“Thought it was about time they see their father,” Knight Captain Cade said, smiling when he saw nearly all the tension leave Maxson’s face upon seeing his sleeping daughter and son. “Think they’re pretty tired. Big day for them.”

He laughed a little. “It certainly is,” He went quiet and carefully took his son and then his daughter into his arms. “He looks so much like her. They both do.”

“Speaking of Lady Maxson,” Cade said, closing the door. “Surgery is going well, which was all Neriah would tell me before handing me them and going to assist as best she can.”

“Thank you for bringing them to me,” Arthur said and, to Cade’s surprise, it suddenly became all too clear just how young he truly was. “I feel strange saying it, but I’ve been worried about them for…well, since ‘Rissa and I found out she was carrying them.”

“Then I’m especially glad you’re able to be with them now,” Cade said, pausing a moment in thought. “If I may, Elder, I…understand how you’re feeling. The worry for your wife. Having been there…if you need to talk in confidence, I’m more than happy to listen.”

Arthur sighed. “I might be paranoid,” He finally said. “’Rissa has had health issues all her life, stemming from her childhood due to the abuse she was subjected to during it. The things she has been through…in so many ways, we’re alike but for different reasons. I certainly never had what anyone could consider a normal childhood, and, proud as I am of my life and what I’ve achieved, the…the thoughts I’ve been contending with ever since finding out our children were being born and I wasn’t at her side are awful. Truly, I feel I’ve failed her as her husband.”

“I think everyone’s learnt – by now especially – to be completely forthright with you even on matters unrelated to our mission,” Cade shook his head. “It’s easy to forget you and Lady Maxson are only twenty two when, more often than not, you both act closer to thirty two. You’re quite lucky to have found each other, and I don’t say any this to be patronising. You’re one of the most dedicated and driven human beings I’ve ever met, even in the Brotherhood. Honestly, I think a lot of people have misinterpreted your dauntlessness and stoicism and forget you’re humantoo.”

“Were I unwilling to go into battle myself or remove my emotions from key decisions, I would be unfit to lead,” Arthur said, briefly panicking when his son began to stir in his sleep. “Karissa and I met at the summer fair in Rivet City when we were just eighteen but, these past four years including nearly two years since our marriage, I was enraptured by her since the first time I saw her. She didn’t know who I was, and, honestly, I was a bit hesitant to tell her because of the…nature of my position. But it didn’t deter her, and, instead, she became an indispensable companion to me and my closest personal confidant.”

“I remember you mentioning that, shortly after you announced your engagement,” Cade said with a smile. “You said you saw her shoot two radstags through the eyes with only a few fires of a bow and arrow. Knowing your fondness for antiquated and historical methods of combat and hunting, I was unsurprised that caught your attention.”

“It did, but there was even more about her that surprised me,” Arthur said, quietly laughing so as not to wake his newborns in his arms. “Over the course of her life thus far, ‘Rissa has taught herself and become fluent in three languages and has an incredible memory. I won’t lie and say she and I have never fought; I can’t even remember how many times we’ve, over the last few years, accused each other of not being supportive enough of one another, or her frustrations in not being allowed access to classified materials, or my insistence upon us having a strict and almost emotionless public…no. I’m sorry, Cade. I shouldn’t be lamenting the difficulties ‘Rissa and I’ve faced in our relationship. Certainly not while she…”

“It’s alright,” He said calmly. “None of this is abnormal or makes you any less of a good and decent human being.”

“I suppose not, however, given I have no idea how her recovery is going to be…” Arthur said though he went quiet again. “Losing my mother was the worst thing to ever happen to me, but I was lucky enough to have known her, and gotten to see her a few times even after she sent me out to the Citadel to Elder Lyons’ care. Her death being so shortly before Sarah’s, Elder Lyons’ and, then, Will’s just a few years ago…I have lost all my mentors.”

Cade nodded, taking off his hat and holding it against his chest, bowing his head in remembrance.

“Star Paladin Lyons' death was…truly gut wrenching,” He eventually said. “I understand, of course, how painful the loss of his mother and then his sister and father were on him. He had gone through far more tragedy than any one person deserves in his short life. Only forty. I wish there were more I could have done for him.”

“I had just become Elder, shortly before his suicide,” Arthur said, struggling to keep himself from crying. “Having to give the news to Paladin Bael was the worst conversation I have ever had to hold with anyone under my charge. Telling the rest of the troops was difficult too, but telling Will’s own husband after he returned from a deployment? It was painful. The amount of respect I have for him, still carrying on and still commanding the Citadel, is immense. I don’t know how he does it.”

“Nor I,” Cade said. “As you well know, my wife died shortly after the birth of our second child, Kelly, and it broke me. I had to take a leave of absence for nearly two years because of the shock, and Elder Lyons was more than gracious about it, something I still hold him in high regard for. Much as I needed time to grieve their mother and raise our girls…I think Missy and Kelly needed me more.”

“Missy just turned twenty five, didn’t she?” Arthur said with a faint, brief smile. “Proctor Quinlan is making the most of her…having broken one of her legs falling from the gantry. Apparently Emmett quite likes the attention of a second human petting him while going through documents.”

“Leave it to the cats, they know everything,” Cade said, chuckling. “Kelly teases her for it but, much as the two of them will pick at each other, I’m happy they’re so close. Kelly’s been doing great work with getting the Squires used to memorising passages of the Codex. Think they like her because she’s only nineteen and doesn’t yell like Mischelle. Honestly, she reminds me a bit of Sarah.”

“Your pride in her is well placed, then,” Arthur said, sitting down on the edge of the bed he and his wife shared, their twins still sound asleep in his arms. “I hope I’ll be able to impart the same wisdom Sarah did to me onto Esmerelda and Jasper.”

“I suspect you will,” Cade reassuringly replied. “They have two good, proper role models in their lives already. Though I know work is likely the last thing on your mind right now – as it well should be – I thought you ought to know Dr. Li and Jacq are sorting through Prime’s pieces. Seems we missed a lot.”

“I’d like a report on that relatively soon, but I’m glad they finally understand why we have done what we have for them,” Arthur said, frowning. “Now their cooperation on the project is guaranteed, I made sure to let Kells, Ingram, and Teagan know they are not allowed to be physically harmed nor threatened now. I was correct on needing to put Dr. Li in her place, much as I wish I hadn’t needed to. I only hope she’s wrong, about me and ‘Rissa.”

“In saying she worries for the ‘sake of your children being raised to think this is acceptable?’” Cade said, disgusted. “She’s quite wrong. I can tell from speaking to and seeing how much you care for them in the way you hold them alone that she’s wrong. You’ve been asked to make some of the most difficult decisions in the world, and you’re doing them to save the people of this Commonwealth from themselves and the Institute. No, Dr. Li may be a brilliant scientist but she – forgive my language – can’t choose her friends for sh*t and, besides, seeing as she is not, has never been, and never will be a parent? No. She has no idea what she’s talking about with this, and she never will.”

Goodneighbour
February the 19th, 2289
22:19

“How are you feeling?” MacCready said, walking around the couch to loosely wrap another blanket around Annette. “I know Amari said you’re fine now, but…”

“I feel…mostly better,” Annette said quietly, looking down at her hands when he sat down across from her. “But…it hasn’t been pretty. It has been a long time since I’ve felt so…frightened.”

Three days. It had been three days since Dr. Rebecca Madeline Amari, after running test after test and carefully monitoring her vitals, having only regained consciousness a little over two weeks before, decided Dr. Annette Christine Davis was well enough to leave the Memory Den and go back to recover at home. February the 5th. It had been February the 5th when she had finally regained consciousness for the first time. And he…Bobby was there beside me. Seeing me, after Amari realised…the first thing he did was try to hold me. I…I can’t believe it. Her red reading glasses beginning to fog up, she felt sick when she realised she was starting to cry, trying to calm herself when, more worried than he wanted to say, Robert Joseph MacCready did not hesitate to move closer to her, reassuringly resting his hands over hers. She slowly managed to calm herself again after closing her eyes, for a few seconds. Relieved when she seemed to ease, albeit just a little, MacCready kept his hands on hers, slipping one under hers to hold both of hers tightly in his. Thank God Duncan understands why I wanted her to come here and stay with us, even if only for a little while. Leaving her alone after all this…it’s not right. He only briefly startled when he heard a bit of noise coming from down the hall, relaxing when he saw it was only Duncan, still half asleep, getting up to use the bathroom. When he saw his little boy go back to his room and, based on the way he was still rubbing his eyes, fall back asleep shortly thereafter, MacCready let out a sigh of relief and, feeling her start shaking, reached over to reassuringly rest one of his hands gently over Annette’s right cheek.

“I’m so glad you’re alright,” He finally said, squeezing her hands. “I can’t…I wish I had been there. For both you and Duncan. What happened was –"

“How much do you already know?” Annette said, trembling even when he delicately wrapped his arms around her. “About what happened?”

“A lot, I think. A few hours after you…after Amari and Irma got you stabilised, I talked to Duncan,” MacCready said, his chest heavy with each word he spoke. “He told me he didn’t want you to die because you saved his life, and, when I asked him what happened, he…he said the door to the apartment was opened by two…bad men. He said he asked you to just keep him hidden. When you told him to go hide in his closet, he went into it and then into part of the wall he’d been pulling up and snuck through the walls into Daisy’s apartment before sneaking into the Old State House to get Hanco*ck.”

Annette paled. “Oh dear God. How much did he…did he hear?”

“He heard them…” MacCready went silent, anger bubbling to the forefront of his mind. “He said heard them start yelling at you to tell them where he was, and you trying to get them out, asking them who the hell they were. I…I thought it couldn’t get worse until he told me their names. Vincent Winlock and Stephen Barnes.”

“Yes, I…” Annette said, her voice unsteady. “I ran to your bedroom, hoping to find a gun in there but I couldn’t. All I could find was a knife but…it didn’t end up being much of a fight. They took it with them before…before Winlock took out one of his own and…”

“Netta, it’s alright, shhhhh…” MacCready said, shifting to hold her as tightly as he could when she broke down, weeping into him, her hands clutching onto his shirt for dear life. “You’re safe now. I promise. Whatever you need, I’m right here, and I’m not going anywhere.”

“They wanted to poison him,” Annette sobbed, feeling sick at the thought. “But they couldn’t…they kept...they wanted to…they said they needed to make you pay, and I…I thought I could…they were…”

“Annette, doll, you’re both alright,” MacCready gently said, helping her all the way up onto the couch, her entire body trembling, to let her lay her head on his chest. “This isn’t your fault.”

“I should have been able to protect him…” She barely got out. “He’s your entire world, and –”

“Dr. Davis, please, listen to me,” MacCready sighed when she looked up at him and softened his voice. “You did keep him safe, and it’s the second time you’ve saved his life. The only thing I’m upset about is the fact those two ass…the fact Winlock and Barnes almost killed you and it was because of me. Annette, please, if nothing else, at least know I’m damn relieved you’re safe and so is Duncan. He’s my little boy…and you’re my wonderful girlfriend.”

Annette weakly nodded. “I just wish I could have been less…weak, Bobby. I don’t know what’s wrong with me. I don’t.”

“Netta, look, I…” MacCready hesitated, holding her steady while she cried. “I don’t usually go around saying stuff like this, but you’ve been pretty clear with me, so I’m going to be clear with you. I know it’s been a little less than a year since we met, before we started seeing each other, but…damn it, Annette, I love you, and I wish I could have kept you safe from them. Both you and Duncan.”

“I’m surprised to hear you say that,” Annette quietly spoke, tugging off and folding up her glasses. “But I’m happy you…Bobby, I…I love you too.”

“And I have two people to protect, now,” He said, affectionately brushing his fingers through her long hair. “My son, and you.”

“Is he going to be alright?” She fell silent. “With me being the…with me being here even though his mother is…even though she –”

“He likes having you around, don’t worry,” MacCready softly assured her. “And, while he knows as well as anyone does how I miss Lucy to death, he knows I have to go on. I have. I sure as hell didn’t expect to meet you but, more than I can say, I’m glad I did. Not just for him, but for me as well. You’re lovely, Annette. Maybe not to everyone or even to most people, but you are to me and with Duncan, which is all I care about.”

“Well alright, then,” Annette said with a faint smile, setting her glasses aside on the other end of the couch. “If what happened wasn’t my fault,” She quietly began, blinking back more tears threatening at the corners of her eyes. “Then it wasn’t yours either.”

“And they won’t bother you or us again,” MacCready said, pausing a moment. I can’t scare her, it’s all too recent but, somehow, they’re going to pay for this. Trying to get enough caps together to buy them out isn’t going to happen. Not now they’ve tried to kill her, and not now they’ve tried to kill Duncan. “They may have a small army of gunners with them at all times, but they won’t try this again. I’ll make sure of it, doll. I promise.”

“Just don’t put yourself in danger,” Annette whispered, desperately holding onto him again. “They’re less of a threat to you, at least, you could handle them but I don’t…I don’t want you to be in danger.”

“I know, and I’ll find a way to deal with this. Safely,” MacCready calmly replied, relieved when she relaxed a little, resting her head on his chest. “For both your sakes. I’ve been beginning to realise how much I missed having someone I could depend on, and I...just want you to know I’m going to do everything I can to see that it stays this way.”

“Good,” Annette said, her breathing more steady. Maybe…maybe Amata was wrong after all. “I don’t want anything more. I’m…well, I’m relieved to still be alive and…and relieved to hear I’m not the only one who has fallen here. When…when did you realise…”

“I can’t remember,” MacCready said, kissing her gently when she glanced up at him again. “It doesn’t matter to me. I’m happy enough to know I wasn’t imagining things, thinking you cared about me a lot more than I was ready to hope for. When did you?”

“When I came to and the first thing I felt, when Amari stepped away, was you wrapping your arms tightly around me,” Annette said with a light smile. “You…you cared about me enough to fight for me to stay alive. I could never think of anything more romantic than that.”

“And there you go again, being an absolute sweetheart,” MacCready said, lightly kissing her cheek. “I…I know you’re still not feeling well. If it’s better for you, then, I promise, it’s not a burden at all for you to keep staying here. Honestly, I…I like knowing you’re safe.”

“So long as you have a few extra blankets for me to sleep here, then…of course,” Annette paused when he shook his head. “It was a little cold last night,” She said nervously. “I –"

“No, Netta, it’s…” MacCready sighed, standing up and offering her his hands to help her to her feet. “I’ll sleep on the couch before I let you sleep there again. Please…come sleep next to me.”

Annette hesitated. “You’re sure you don’t mind, Bobby?”

“I don’t mind you being here with me at all,” MacCready gently assured her. “I’m just glad you’re safe.”

“Alright,” She said, leaning into him a little when he tightly wrapped an arm around her. “You’re a good man, you know. Duncan certainly thinks so.”

MacCready smiled. “I’m proud to have such a resilient kid as my son,” He said before softly kissing her. “And happy to have you safe, here in my arms.”

University Point
February the 27th, 2289
11:02

“What? Why didn’t you send word that –”

“The Brotherhood could be watching our every move, intercepted it, come back to kill me or…or worse!”

Always a bit of a paranoid man, seeing the General of the Minutemen and several of the General’s closest colleagues march into town had nearly given Gerald Spencer a panic attack, expecting a confrontation between them and the Brotherhood or, worse, them and the Institute. Realising they had come worried for not only their people but the entire town eased those fears for no more than a few minutes. Not wanting to attempt to explain anything himself, Mayor Bartholomew Strickland had escorted the General and his right hand man up to the man’s apartment, merely shaking his head when he was greeted by Gerald nearly throwing the door back shut in his face. Even now having, through very quick and shallow breaths, told them the shortest explanation of why no one from the town was communicating either in or out, Gerald still could not find any sense of calm. Instead, still frightened by the possibility of the Brotherhood listening or watching his every move, he ran through his apartment yanking down the window shades and upending anything he could think of upon which a recording device could be hidden. When he finally came back to the main room of the apartment, he went over to the stove and lit a few candles, refusing still to turn on the lights.

“The…the Institute waited until almost the end of December before telling us what happened or, I guess, what really happened,” Gerald said, his hands wrapping around the edge of the counter so hard his knuckles turned white. “I thought they just decided to not let me have my visit with Jacq for some reason or another and I’d see her or at the very least Dr. Li soon enough and no one else was particularly worried. Martha and Perry were damn slapped silly happy not to see them.”

“They waited over a month before telling you what happened to your daughter?” Derek said, horrified. “Did they at least tell you why they waited so long?”

“Said they were ‘making sure we know the facts,’ as if I cared about the specifics,” Gerald’s voice shook almost as badly as the rest of his body. “When they finally decided to tell me what the hell was going on, they sent one of their other ‘Division Heads’ who’s a scary cold bitch but better than the asshole she replaced, from what Jacq’s said anyways. You know what she says? All she says is ‘the Brotherhood abducted Dr. Li and Jacqueline the day she was supposed to escort Jacqueline for her visit home.’”

“Sadly, I’m not surprised the Brotherhood would be willing to do such a thing,” Preston said with a frown. “They really aren’t above anything when they decide what they want. Do you know why they took them, by chance?”

“Who cares?” Gerald exclaimed, throwing his hands up in the air, nearly snuffing out the candles in the process. “They took them, probably are keeping them chained to the goddamn wall in their airport compound, and the Institute are telling me f*ck all about what they’re doing to get my daughter home safe! They could at least tell me what they’re doing but instead they’ve claimed it’s all ‘classified’ as if I give a flying f*ck about –”

“Mister Spencer, for your own safety, please, calm down,” Derek said, waiting a few seconds before gently pulling him away from the candles when Gerald’s sleeves nearly caught fire. “As a parent myself, I would be in a state, too, if any of my children were missing, but this isn’t productive and panic won’t bring her home any sooner.”

“Easy for you to say!” He said, still shaking when he sat down on the couch on the other side of the room from the kitchen and, more to the point, its counters upon which the candle flames were still providing the apartment with what little light it had. “You didn’t sign a deal with the devil, letting them take your daughter only for them to be unable to keep her safe like they insisted they would!”

“Far be it from me to say I know much of anything about the Institute, but…” Preston shook his head. “I doubt they’re doing nothing, if only because the Brotherhood didn’t just take your daughter but one of their Division Heads. Dr. Li is one of their Division Heads, isn’t she?”

“Leads the ‘Advanced Systems’ Division, doing all sorts of science sh*t I could never dream of understanding,” Gerald said, quickly wringing his hands in and out of each other. “Doesn’t mean sh*t to me right now. Whatever they’re doing or not, they haven’t said a word of it to me or anyone else in town. Only good thing is the Brotherhood haven’t come back yet. Think I…may have yelled at the town council enough to convince them to take the strategy of staying as low profile as possible. Less people know about what happened and the less people here, the better. I…I really don’t want the Brotherhood to think the Institute are building an army here or something like that, not when it could entice them into trying to wipe us all out.”

Preston grimaced. “I hate to say it, but I wouldn’t –”

A set of knocks at the door, Gerald screamed before the General could finish his thought. He then suddenly clasped his hands over his mouth and tried to calm his breathing, though every breath in and out he took seemed to be heavier than the last. He almost fell over the coffee table when the lock clicked and the doorknob began to turn, scrambling to grab his gun from where it was hidden in a small bureau across the room. Not wanting to take any chances, Derek reached for his shotgun, and Preston aimed his laser musket at the door while it creaked open. They lowered their weapons the second they saw the man standing in the doorway to be the mayor and, behind him, a few people in power armour covered in brightly coloured flames. More than a little exasperated when he saw Gerald’s demeanour, Mayor Bartholomew Strickland waved at him to set down his gun which, after a minute, he did. Then, apologising to the woman and two men in power armour behind him, the mayor of University Point ushered them in before slamming the door shut behind him and walking out of the apartment building. Seeing Preston, the first of the two men shortly nodded at him and slid his sunglasses off his face and into his thickly gelled hair while the second of the two men and the woman took a look around, startled by how dark it was in the apartment.

“Didn’t expect you’d be here, but I’ll never turn down backup,” The first of the two men sighed. “We were heading up to Diamond City to see if we could find you guys and get some backup anyways. Heard about what happened from the Warwicks…real nasty business.”

“Sums it up pretty well, Zeke,” Preston grimly replied. “You said you were looking to get backup from us? Take it you have a plan to rescue –”

“Got a few plans, actually,” He said, awkwardly looking over at Gerald. “The name’s Zeke. I’m the coolest Cat in the Atom Cats, and Rowdy and Bluejay here are going to help you get your daughter and her mother back, too.”

Gerald nervously laughed. “Roger smoking too many joints again? Jacq’s mother died over a decade ago and, with all due respect to the woman, I think I’d rather kill myself than have to marry Dr. Li.”

“She’s not that bad,” Derek said, a bit amused. “Although I don’t get the sense she’s particularly interested in anyone, so you shouldn’t have to worry.”

“Doesn’t matter if she’s the girl’s mother or not,” Rowdy said, rolling her eyes. “No one deserves to be snatched though I’m surprised, since Roger said they’re real brainy, they got snatched by the Brotherhood and not the Institute.”

“Who cares who ‘snatched’ them?” Gerald snapped, uneasy at her words. “All I care about is – if no one else – Jacq gets back here and gets back here alive. Dr. Li’s been her mentor for several years now, and I have no ill will towards her, but Jacq is the priority. Do you understand me?”

“And we’ll get to work on getting them safely back here as soon as possible,” Preston assured him, sharing a brief but knowing look with Derek. “Let Sturges know, when we’re done here, to call off surveying and planning to retake the Castle for now. This is more important. Two people’s lives are in the balance, and I don’t trust the ‘good intentions’ of the Brotherhood to last, if they were ever there to begin with.”

“You don’t got good intentions if you act like this,” Bluejay said irritably. “This is sick, and not in a positive way,” He turned to Gerald. “We know a decent bit about the Brotherhood’s airport base. Spent a few months irritating them by playing loud music and rounds of paintball on it. Give us some time to figure out where they’re hiding your daughter and the good doctor, and then we’ll get right to hatching how we’ll get them back.”

“Then go start doing that,” Gerald said, pointing them all towards the door. “Don’t waste a damn second. My daughter could be being tortured for all I know, and I’m tired of not having a single shred of hope of getting her back safe so don’t even think about wasting time because, if you do and something happens to her, I will haunt you when I die.”

Chapter 34: Something Switching

Chapter Text

The Commonwealth
March the 7th, 2289
16:13

Run.

It was the only word she heard spoken to her when chaos erupted.

Run.

Feeling as though her lungs might burst out of her chest and her body collapse into the ground, seventeen year old Jacqueline Rose Spencer ran, fast as she could, after her mentor, who had grabbed her by the arm and told her to run with her towards a man in mechanic’s overalls, a hefty toolbelt around his waist, and welding goggles draped around his neck. He might as well have, so far as the seventeen year old was concerned, come out of nowhere less than a minute after heavy gunfire began ringing out on the tarmac drew the Brotherhood soldiers escorting them throughout the facility away. The closer they got to him, where he was waiting halfway behind the door leading into one of the four former passenger terminals with a gun at the ready, the harder she ran, looking frantically around to make sure they were not being followed and to make sure she had not lost sight of her mentor. She grabbed onto her wrist the second they reached the man at the door. He spoke quickly with her mentor in hushed tones before waving at the both of them to go with him. Jacqueline tightened her hand around her mentor’s, only letting go when, with a pointed but worried look, Dr. Madison Li gently pried her hand off from around her wrist. Wrapping her arms tightly around herself, Jacqueline kept running. Each breath felt worse than the last. She kept running. The sounds of shouting, gunfire, and almost painfully loud music cloyed at her senses, fear rising in her every time the noise seemed to be getting ever closer to them.

She kept running.

Had there not been urgent necessity driving them to get as far away from where they were as possible, Jacqueline realised, the longer they ran through the remains of the pre-War passenger terminal, there was so much history left behind to explore, even if marred and damaged by over two centuries of destruction and decay. It was only when, nearly to another set of doors leading out of the terminal and onto an overgrown road, she looked up and saw a large American flag, still mostly intact, hanging down from the terminal entrance, just in front of a sign reading Terminal A, she paused.Hearing her footsteps falter behind them, Dr. Madison Li and Sturges Presley turned back to help her, seeing the teenager shaking badly and struggling still to catch her breath. Terrified and expecting to see Brotherhood soldiers waiting for them the second they stepped through the doors, Jacqueline let out a gasp of relief to find none, realising they had made it well past where the Brotherhood’s largest and primary operations were being run behind the old passenger terminals, roads, and parking garages. She kept running, only slowing her pace when she could no longer sustain it and, startled, when they turned onto another road with a sign on it with an arrow and the words To Route 1A at which another man was waiting, one, too, whom her mentor seemed to recognise.

“Best route out of here goes through the old community park on Bremen Street, and, to make sure they don’t follow us, down to Trenton Street and then north past the East Boston Police Department onto Chelsea Street. We can snake our way down to University Point, passing through Bunker Hill, from there,” He said, politely tipping his hat at Jacqueline. “Preston Garvey, Commonwealth Minutemen. We can talk more once you and Dr. Li are safely out of here. Just stick with her, me, and Sturges, and we’ll be out soon enough.”

Shakily nodding, Jacqueline began running again, focusing on her mentor and the two men. Pace after pace and pace and pace again. The industrial, cold façade of the former airport slowly became all the more distant around them. She barely stopped herself from screaming when she saw a vertibird fly overhead, only to start crying in slight relief when it did not seem to notice them. A hand suddenly grabbed hers and she almost screamed again only to feel silly about it when she realised the hand taking hers and tugging her along was her mentor’s. Crossing onto an old interstate highway, the four of them began weaving in and out of wrecked and rusted out cars, trucks, and tractor trailers. When she took a panicked look back upon hearing footsteps running towards them, Jacqueline briefly paused, confused to see a woman in a black leather jacket with a large weapon in her hands and a rather large gun and ammunition case strapped to her back. She began to run with them, hurriedly saying something to the man called Preston, and stayed behind them a couple of metres, weapons at the ready, seemingly attempting to ensure they were not being chased. The clamour of the gunfire, shouts, and music which, it occurred to her, were from a mismatch of musical stage shows, grew farther and farther away. Passing onto a strip of green earth, trees, and shrubbery lined with streetlamps and paths, an interstate highway overpass visible in the distance, things began to feel a little better. The noise was abating. Their paces were slowing. Breathing was becoming a little easier with the lightening of their paces.

They kept running.

After minutes which felt like hours, they reached and began to snake their way through the old urban streets of what had once been a bustling metropolis. Down one street, up another. The occasional sounds of shouting and gunfire rang out but far more in the distance or, at least, more than evidently not coming from anyone associated with their abductors still at the airport. The airport. Looking back and expecting to be able to see it in the distance, Jacqueline felt relief begin to wash over her in waves when she realised it was becoming harder and harder to see. When it could no longer be seen through the buildings lining the streets, each one seemingly taller than the last, their paces slowed again and, turning another corner, they found a third man waiting for them. It was then, when Jacqueline felt her mentor’s footsteps falter, she let go of her, confused by the look on her face when they approached the man, who was tall, pale, and had slightly curly greying dark hair and glasses. Anxiety gnawing at her again when she heard the sounds and the fury of a few angry shouts and gunfire well in the distance, the seventeen year old wrapped her arms tightly around herself again and stayed close to her mentor as she approached him. She let out a startled yelp when a hand lightly fell onto her shoulder, but relaxed, albeit only a little, when she saw it was the free hand of the leather clad woman, large gun still on her back and the large weapon in her other hand, holding it against her hip. Now able to take a closer look at it whilst they briskly walked, Jacqueline realised it was a flame thrower.

“Where did you get that?” She nervously asked, keeping her voice low. “Is it…”

“Is it a flame thrower?” The woman winked. “f*ck yeah it is. Got to test it on some of those Brotherhood nosebleeds. She works pretty well, if I do say so myself as her creator.”

“You made it?” Jacqueline said, her eyes widening in surprise. “It looks amazing.”

“She’s made me tons of useful experimental weapons over the years,” The man in mechanic’s overalls told her, waving her, Dr. Li, and the woman with the flame thrower with him and the other two men onto another street, heading north. “She and her gang might be an odd crew, but they’re good people.”

“You mean the cat’s meow,” The woman half heartedly corrected with a laugh. “We’re the Atom Cats, after all. Why else would I have felt the need to make my flame thrower stand out by painting it hot pink? Other than thinking it looks nice, of course.”

“Small talk aside, I appreciate you…helping us,” Madison said, her lips flattening into a thin line when she looked between her and the three men. “How did you know where we were or, more to the point, that we needed a way out?”

“Roger Warwick,” The woman replied, letting Jacqueline go. “Said you and your daughter here had been kidnapped. Though her father insists you’re not her mother, told us, even, he’d rather kill himself than marry you.”

“She’s not my mom,” Jacqueline uncomfortably confirmed. “More like –”

“I’ve been training her in mechanical and nuclear engineering,” Madison said quickly, setting her hands to Jacqueline’s shoulders to reassure her. “She has a proclivity for it.”

“Well, we’re just glad we were able to get you out of there. From what we heard,” The man called Preston shook his head. “I didn’t trust in the good intentions of the Brotherhood before, but I absolutely don’t now. Are the two of you alright? Do you need a bit of a break?”

Madison sighed. “So much as I’d like one, the longer we keep her here, the more danger she’s in. The sooner we’re back at University Point, the better.”

“Can’t argue with that,” Preston morosely said, pausing upon seeing a vaguely familiar and intense, rigid man leaning against the doors into the former East Boston Police Station. “Who is –”

“X6-88?” Jacqueline called out, all but clutching onto her mentor in relief when the man responded to that name and approached them. “We’re safe,” She mumbled. “We’re really safe.”

“Dr. Li, I have been asked to return you and Miss Spencer safely…home,” He said, pausing and seemingly choosing his words carefully. “I’ll admit it,” He said, turning to the three men and the woman with the flame thrower. “Even upon hearing our watchers had made note of your attempt to rescue Dr. Li and Miss Spencer, I didn’t think it would actually work. You will be rewarded for your service. Now, you are free to go. I will take over from here.”

Preston hesitated, glancing between Madison and Jacqueline.

“You’re sure you’ll be alright with just him?”

“Yes. Thank you, Mister Garvey, Mister…Sturges, isn’t it? Thank you for getting us out of that hell, but, Derek…” She said, turning to the tall bespectacled man. “Why are you here and putting your neck on the line for me, after what happened with –”

“Because you’re a good person, Madison,” He calmly replied before they awkwardly embraced. “And, just as much, no one deserves what they did to you and Jacqueline. Taking people for their own…I had really thought they were above such a thing.”

“The Brotherhood are learning their lesson,” X6-88 said with a sly, sinister smile. “You are more capable than you seem. Now, please leave. I would prefer not to have any distractions.”

“Thank you for saving us!” Jacqueline suddenly hugged Sturges, then Preston, and finally Derek before all but latching onto her mentor again. “I…I really thought we might die there.”

“Just glad you’re safe now,” Preston kindly replied. “Have a safe trip home.”

“We will,” Madison said with one last, faint smile at Derek. “And a swift one.”

“Good,” Derek said, shaking X6-88’s hand after the man realised why he had it extended towards him. “All of you, take care.”

X6-88 smirked. “I can assure you,” He said with a light, approving tone to his voice. “Doing so will not be an issue now you have successfully carried out your mission.”

The Prydwen
March the 15th, 2289
8:02

“This is completely unacceptable! If in the course of our investigation we learn any members of the Brotherhood aided and abetted Madison Li in this…escape, I will show them what happens to traitors.”

A week and a day. A week and a day, and no one in the upper leadership of the East Coast Brotherhood Of Steel had an answer for how the good doctor and her protégé slipped out of their grasp, away from the former Boston Logan International Airport and their monitoring. In some ways, it perhaps did not matter how. What had facilitated their escape was bad enough, and the damage severe and unacceptable. A full vertibird lost, torched and so heavily shot at one of the wings broke off, killing two of the Knights attempting to stave off the gang who had, for the third and most aggressive time, interfered with military operations. His hands clenching furiously around the railing wrapped halfway around the Prydwen’s command deck, all but one with the glass windows it was hinged on, Elder Arthur Jonathan Maxson appraised the damage still left to be dealt with. Part of the gantry for the reconstruction of Liberty Prime had been shot down, taking about a third of the entire structure down with it. Stains from paintballs were littered everywhere. Several suits of power armour had been either severely damaged or completely destroyed. Then, there were the casualties. Ten Brotherhood soldiers dead, three of them Knights, four of them Scribes, and three were Initiates or Aspirants, and all dead from a surprise attack by a belligerent group of power armour aficionados who lived in, of all places, a former truck stop.

“Good, Knight Captain, you’ve arrived,” Kells said, inclining his head towards Maxson whilst the Elder went to take his seat at the head of the table. “We can now begin today’s meeting.”

“Yes, we can, and what we have to discuss is truly disturbing,” Maxson said, looking between his Lancer Captain, Proctors, and most senior medical officer. “The damage assessment uncovered more substantial destruction than we had initially thought in the aftermath of the attack. Is that accurate, Proctor Ingram?”

“It is,” She said with a short nod. “We were, however, able to recover the DNA of three of the gang– calling themselves the ‘Atom Cats’ – leaders,” She paused, watching him pull up the profiles on a tablet. “The first man goes by ‘Zeke’ but his real name, from what was uncovered in Proctor Quinlan’s inquiry of locals in the area, is Zachery Maxwell Carter.”

“The other man, who has the moniker ‘Bluejay’ is Brandon Kyle Harris,” Quinlan put in, a cold frown on his face. “As for the woman, though she is referred to as ‘Rowdy,’ her real name is Demetria Ashley Weatherly. Given her behaviour, her moniker might as well be her real name.”

“She was one of the people responsible for torching the vertibird under maintenance on the helicopter pad atop one of the former airport’s warehouses, wasn’t she?” Teagan said, his gaze darkening when Ingram nodded. “Of all of them, I think she might have done the most damage for being the one leading the destruction of the vertibird. Destruction, too, which killed two of our Knights.”

“She was also gone within no more than half an hour from the start of their assault on our base,” Quinlan noted. “Though we did manage to eject them from the premises after about three hours, they were shockingly aggressive and, not only that, by all appearances highly motivated.”

“Their aggression and motivation are what I find most concerning,” Maxson said, irritation edging into his voice. “Considering their apparent prowess with weaponry and power armour, I suspect they may be connected, in some manner, to the Institute. As for what we know about them beyond speculation, were we able to get DNA samples from any of the others?”

“Just their three apparent leaders, unfortunately,” Quinlan said, wrinkling his nose in disgust. “We got DNA samples from the woman ‘Rowdy’ because, in the about half hour she was on the premises, she seemed to be convinced she was an old western cowboy. Perhaps that’s why she chose a flame thrower as her weapon of choice. Why she painted it pink is beyond me. Regardless, she spit into nearly every bucket, which is how we obtained her DNA. The man ‘Zeke’ cut himself quite badly while assisting the woman ‘Rowdy’ in torching and destroying the vertibird. As for the man ‘Bluejay,’ we obtained that because he spit in my face like a petulant child.”

“Gross and inappropriate as it was, we did get exceptionally lucky to get any of their DNA on file,” Cade said, shaking his head. “It will make it easier to identify them if they attempt to breach the base again.”

“Yes, as will getting a proper surveillance system operational,” Quinlan said, annoyed at the reminder. “I made quite the mistake in not ordering for one to be created and rigged immediately after our arrival in the Commonwealth last June, a mistake I will not be making again. Unfortunately, I think I speak for all of us when I say I was far too used to the security and surveillance systems of the Citadel, which had been kept running, maintained, and improved over the last two hundred years. I thought our DNA and retinal scans would be more than sufficient. Apparently not.”

“To go from a base as well established as the Citadel or, even, the former Washington Dulles International Airport to here has been a massive undertaking,” Maxson calmly reminded him. “Our mission in the Commonwealth and, admittedly, our attempts to identify and bring back our lost Brothers and Sisters took priority, as did the practical difficulties in establishing our base of operations here.”

“The locals – these ‘Atom Cats’ included – have been less cooperative or understanding than we hoped, too,” Teagan said, frowning. “Their initial interference in our operations, while significant and aggravating, were at least only a nuisance and not a real threat. Using half of the former airport to create an arena for paintball and capture the flag? A nuisance. Provoking local farmers into shooting at our soldiers? That was disturbingly brazen. Their attack on our base, whether or not they knew about and intended to facilitate Dr. Li’s treason? It was somehow worse.”

“Seeing as they destroyed a vertibird, a third of the gantry, and killed several of our soldiers, I’d agree it was worse than them having a fifty something year old woman take out a gun and shoot at the feet of one of our Knights,” Ingram irritably sighed. “Still, I would be a lot more surprised to find out the Institute had a hand in this than I would be to find out this gang did it out of boredom or because they thought it would be fun. The Institute have the capacity, I’m sure, to have brought Dr. Li and her protégé back on their own. If they can create the synths, I don’t think they have a lot of – if any – real limits to their capacities.”

“You think the Institute wanted them to suffer?” Quinlan said, pausing in consideration. “If they were attempting to test their loyalty, then it certainly played out in their favour, seeing as I sincerely doubt Dr. Li and her protégé are not back in the hands of the Institute. I don’t see how being under our protection was suffering, however. Their quality of life was as good as ours, and they were working on the single greatest achievement of Dr. Li’s life. I will say, as Elder Maxson made quite clear the day of the attack, her treason still baffles me. What could she possibly have to gain from it?”

“Her own self importance,” Kells said flatly. “She could not comprehend how grossly disrespectful her behaviour was until she was threatened, and with an empty threat at that.”

“Absolutely. Even after, the things she said, when they were personal, were completely uncalled for. It was hard to listen to,” Cade said, glancing at Maxson who looked considerably tense. “But I don’t think there was anything we could have done to stop her. If we had let Quinlan bring her up on charges for everything she said either to Elder Lyons, then, or Elder Maxson, now, she wouldn’t get anything done.”

“No, she wouldn’t have,” Maxson curtly agreed. “At the very least, we should still have a great deal to work with from what she and her protégé had been working on with Liberty Prime.”

“That remains to be seen,” Ingram warned him. “There’s a decent chance the ‘Atom Cats’ damaged more than just the gantry, and, ‘charming’ as she can be, not having Dr. Li here to work on Liberty Prime herself will set us back significantly. We’re going to have to find someone – most likely a team of people – in the Commonwealth who can give us what Dr. Li would have. We’ll also have to make as many strategic modifications as we can. Her returning to the Institute with knowledge of what Prime is supposed to be capable of now and not only what Prime was capable of when we last used it in September 2279 will likely come back to bite us in the ass.”

“Pleasant thought, Mischelle,” Quinlan pursed his lips. “But, nevertheless, apt. I suppose it’s now another thing to add to the growing list of matters I need to address. Research patrols are going to have to continue to be diverted to do reconnaissance, including on these ‘Atom Cats’ to conclude whether or not their technological prowess is due to them working with the Institute, several patrols will have to be cancelled in order to develop, install, and manage a robust surveillance system beyond our DNA and retinal scans, the new logistical and physical issues with Liberty Prime, and, then, there’s the absolute mechanical menace we had to put down just last night.”

“This ‘Mechanist’ seems at least to know their way around robots,” Teagan said, looking vaguely amused. “But I concur with your initial assessment of them after our soldiers made short work of their robots, considering they were all but junk robots. This ‘Mechanist’ is a separate issue from some of the strangely belligerent locals, and the Institute. As you said, Marshall – the Institute are too arrogant and proud of their own technological prowess to create junky, janky robots. I still, however, think the matter should be investigated.”

“It should, and by a small, expert team already familiar with the Commonwealth,” Quinlan said, adjusting his glasses. “To that end, I believe Paladin Danse and, under his charge, Knight Rhys and Scribe Haylen could do so not only well but with utter thoroughness and, in the best case, swiftness. It would take them away from the police station again, but I don’t believe they need to be there for things to run as normal. Not anymore, at any rate.”

“Paladin Danse, Rhys, and Haylen do work incredibly well together,” Maxson said, taking a minute in consideration. “Send them the initial orders to investigate. If something worth reporting comes of it, instruct Paladin Danse to come to the Prydwen to discuss the matter with us directly. We’ll decide the length of or means of continuing the operation at that time. This is a much worse position than any of us anticipated being in, and, now the dust is finally settling on the fiasco, we should be able to properly recalibrate, with or without LI-119K.”

Railroad Headquarters
March the 21st, 2289
17:11

“The last confirmed sighting of a Courser we received was from about six months ago. The location was at one of the offices of the former Bureau Of Alcohol, Drugs, Tobacco, Firearms, And Lasers. We had to change our routes to avoid it for about two months, just to be safe, and haven’t had any reports of Courser activity since. But, if the method the former Institute scientist told you about works, you shouldn’t have to rely on previous sightings.”

The crypt a little damp and cold, Nora Jacqueline Norwich zipped up her jacket and tucked her arms under each other, following the Railroad's second in command down into his organisation’s headquarters. Cait beside her, the former lawyer managed a small smile when she wrapped an arm around her. Himself a little uneasy, detective Nicholas Julius Valentine carefully descended into the main room of the old crypt, holding his hat and crouching a few times to avoid bumping his head on the low, sloped ceiling hanging over the steep stairs. He let out a quiet sigh of relief when the room opened up and he could stand and walk normally with ease. Why the Institute made me six feet and five inches is beyond me. Better than the first generation synths that are around seven feet tall, though, I suppose. He tipped his hat at Deacon when the enigmatic agent waved at him. His otherwise calm mood began to wane, however, when the aged detective saw the contemptuous way Nora and Cait looked at Glory, and Glory at them. He stepped out of the way when Glory stormed past him, muttering to herself with a gun in hand, and heading back towards the small practise range. Seeing the tired face of the Railroad’s leader as she walked out from inside the mainframe room no less than a minute after the former Courser, and that neither Nora nor Cait seemed particularly agitated, he tried to write the woman’s mood off, tipping his hat towards Desdemona when she was no more than a metre away from him.

“Hope the prototype we recovered for you has been useful,” The aged detective said, waiting a minute before, following suit with her and the others, sitting down at the large centre table. “Going up against the Institute, I’m sure you need as many legs up as you can get. They certainly have quite the unfair advantage.”

“True,” Nora said, irritation slipping into her voice when her eyes met Desdemona’s. “But it’s been well over a month since we put it back in your hands, and you still won’t tell us what the hell it’s for or what it does. We risked our lives for you to get the damn prototype, and you aren’t making much progress on helping me get into the Institute. I think we’ve got more than just a little bit of a right to know what it is and what it does.”

“You very much do not,” Carrington informed her, matching her tone whilst taking his seat at the table. “All you need to know is I required it back to continue a few parts of my research, and it ending up in the Institute’s hands would have been a significant problem for us because it would reveal some of our capabilities.”

“As you saw, too, the Institute found us once and compromised our security. Risking them learning about some of the technology we have access to or develop could further endanger us,” Desdemona pointedly added before the former lawyer could protest. “As for the progress we’ve made on getting you into the Institute, much of that depends on being able to not only completely decipher the plans – which are hard enough to read as it is – but on your acquiring a Courser chip, a matter we’ve been deliberating on for several weeks, now.”

“For their own safety, sending Nora, Cait, and Nick after one alone could be a death sentence, and completely unfair of us,” Hadley told her, pushing her glasses up with one hand and, shakily, tapping excess ash off of her cig before sitting down with all of them except Glory. “And, really, it shouldn’t have taken this long to decide to help her find a Courser to kill, Des, especially not with her son’s life hanging in the balance because of the Institute.”

“Taking the time we did was necessary, and I have no intention of arguing about it. We did what we had to, and we will continue to do so,” Desdemona shook her head, turning to Nora. “You’re not one of us. As such, we can’t prioritise you over the lives, wellbeing and rights of hundreds – maybe even thousands – of synths. We agreed to help you, and we will, but your impatience is not useful to us in the slightest.”

“It’s also making Glory wanting to and, f*cking hell, even trying to drag things out to make a point. Some kind of revenge, almost,” Deacon said, taking off his sunglasses. “Look, Nora, I get it. You’re tired, frustrated, and angry but those feelings are because of the Institute, not us.”

“Pretty sure some of ‘em are because of you,” Cait darkly remarked. “I’ve certainly had some fantasises of fighting some of you off. Especially after hearing you all pointed your weapons at Nora, Nicky, and Piper just to intimidate them.”

Deacon shrugged. “Des and Glory had make sure they weren’t a threat somehow. Although Des kind of already knew Piper wasn’t, what with Piper being Lay’s daughter in law and all.”

“Good to know ‘making sure someone’s not a threat' means threatening them to you,” Nora said, a sarcastic edge to her voice. “If you treat all of your new recruits or, f*ck, even people like us this way, you’re not going to be particularly persuasive.”

“I can be,” Deacon said, a mischievous glint in his eyes. “I like to have fun with the new recruits, sometimes. Luckily for you three, you’re not being initiated into our organisation. You want in on a secret, though? I’m going to try and convince the next raw recruits I’m actually President Eden. Think I can pull it off?”

Nora frowned. “President Eden?” She repeated. “Who is –”

“Calls, or, at least, called would be a better word seeing as he’s dead, himself the President Of The United States,” Deacon said, not noticing that Hadley had paled upon hearing the name and her shaky hands looked shakier. “The Enclave!” He declared, attempting to mimic the man’s voice. “Rebuilding America’s future, today! God bless the Enclave! God bless America!”

“Enough, Deacon,” Hadley suddenly snapped, nearly dropping her cigarette on herself when she stood up. “That is absolutely not funny. Do you even know who –”

“Are…” Nora hesitated before stepping over to the shaking mother of four, setting her hands gently to the petite woman’s shoulders when she realised she was trying to calm her breathing, her chest rising and falling rapidly. “Are you alright?”

“I…” Hadley fell unusually silent, her glasses clouding as she blinked back tears. “If you must know," She said quietly, her body shaking "I...I've lived most of my life in fear of Eden, his government, and the Enclave; my father even had to…had to retire from service in the Brotherhood after being badly injured in a battle between the Brotherhood and the Enclave.”

“sh*te…” Cait said, grimacing. “That don’t sound too good.”

“Honestly, we were lucky the Brotherhood kept them from ever crossing into Virginia, where I grew up and…and where my children were born after I met Derek, shortly after he joined the Brotherhood after leaving where he was from in Chicago,” She sighed. “We only left to move to Rivet City when May was a teenager so we could be closer to the Citadel. So they could see their father more when he came back from deployments. Hell it’s…has it really been just shy of a decade since the Enclave finally fell?”

“If I’m remembering correctly, yes,” Nick said, taking his hat off and bowing his head. “I was asked to find someone down in the former Capital the year after, in 2280. To say people were relieved to have them gone would be an understatement. The person I was looking for had unfortunately died shortly after they arrived, accidentally drowned in the Potomac. But I will say, much as I dislike the Brotherhood being here in the Commonwealth, I won’t deny they’ve done some serious good. Fending off the Enclave for over two centuries couldn’t have been easy, let alone eventually managing to defeat them.”

“Doesn’t matter what they did then,” Glory stubbornly said, turning around to face them. “They’re barely any better than the Institute are.”

“Hard not to agree,” Deacon said, leaning back in his seat a little, arms behind his head. “At least with the way they’re acting here.”

Hadley warily glanced at him. “How the hell do you even know who Eden was, let alone enough to mimic his voice?”

“Went down to the Capital Wasteland for fun in June of 2267 when I was eighteen,” Deacon shrugged. “I thought the ‘Enclave’ were kind of funny, couldn’t take anything seriously. Didn’t actually know they were a real threat until a few years back. I mean, America has been dead for centuries, why would anyone call themselves the US President? How could anyone take that seriously?”

“Because of their resources, because of the violence they inflicted on just about everything and everyone that had a pulse, because they killed far too many good people for their defeat after two hundred and two years to feel truly satisfying?” Hadley said, anger snatching her voice. “The Enclave destroyed lives for no other reason than because they could! I don’t care how ridiculous the way they acted could be, nothing to do with them is funny or should be joked about, Deacon! As for you, Glory, while I won’t deny the Brotherhood have lost their way, to say they’re barely any better than the Institute is a gross mischaracterisation, and –”

“We’re getting off track, Hadley, please, calm down,” Desdemona said, worriedly eyeing Hadley until, after a few minutes, she calmed down and, with Nora’s help, shakily sat back down. “As I said, we’re working the best we can with the plans you brought us from the former Institute scientist,” She eventually said with a pointed look at Nora and Cait. “But we need you to cooperate with us, too. Even if you were able to get your hands on a Courser chip on your own, you would still need us and, specifically, Tom to decode it.”

“I’m all too well aware,” Nora bit off. “And I’m happy to work with you if it’ll get me to my son, but I’d like some transparency from you. If I have to trust you, then you should trust me.”

Glory snorted. “You’re making it way too easy to not trust you.”

“Funny,” Cait quipped, scowling at her. “Could throw that right back in your face.”

“You proved yourself to us in recovering my prototype, and the matter does not need to be discussed any further than that,” Carrington said with a slightly glib edge in his voice. “Now we’ve got a better handle on what we’re working with for you, we can help you begin planning to track down a Courser. With Deacon and Glory’s help, I’m sure it won’t be a problem to deal with once you find one.”

“I’m sure it won’t be,” Nora agreed, her eyes narrowing when she saw Glory smirk out of the corners of her eyes. “Just keep her the hell out of my way.”

The Institute
March the 26th, 2289
12:17

Normal.

Things were finally back to normal.

To little surprise, when she stepped into the Directorate’s primary meeting room, Dr. Madison Brianne Li found she was one of the few there already; only the Director, the Director’s father, and Dr. Clayton Caleb Holdren were already sat around the table. When she took her seat, she set down her tablet and the physical notes tucked into a folder she had been carrying. Then, she looked at the time. About ten minutes, and, then, the meeting would begin. Very much relieved to see her mannerisms were the same as always – from the way she sat to the way she began glimpsing over her Division’s notes – Dr. Clayton Holdren let out a sigh of relief, much more comfortable with part of his routine, previously disrupted for a few months, returning to normal. Not to mention the good news of her and Miss Spencer not having been too badly injured in their escape, though the psychological trauma will probably persist for… He turned suddenly in his seat towards the door when he heard it open again, and gave Dr. Allison Stacey Filmore a polite nod when she stepped in, soon after followed by Dr. Alana Jennine Secord. No more than two or three minutes later, Dr. Alan Timothy Binet entered, looking to be in a rather good mood. Swiping his ID badge, he closed and locked the doors to the room before joining his colleagues at the table with a faint smile on his face.

“I hope recovery is treating you well, Dr. Li,” Alan said when she looked up and primly rested her hands over her notes as she glanced amongst her colleagues. “I can only imagine the toll being held against one’s will for just over three months takes on a person.”

“Yes, well, I’m perfectly fine now, as is Miss Spencer,” Madison shortly replied. “If we could put all of that to rest, I would appreciate it.”

“Understood, Dr. Li,” Nate said, his voice lightly sympathetic. “I believe we are all simply glad to have the both of you back safely. What the Brotherhood did was truly unconscionable.”

“It was but the good news is the plan to bring us back was successful,” Madison turned to the Director, who was himself listening attentively. “I hope this meeting is not meant to be another discussion of the ordeal Jacqueline and I were subjected to.”

“No, it is not, please do not worry, Dr. Li,” Shaun said quickly. “It will be a few weeks, at the very least, before I may need to speak with you and Miss Spencer again on the subject. Other than this week’s reports, however, I would like to begin with discussing how we should approach the ‘Commonwealth Minutemen,' as they call themselves, going forward, in light of their integral role in your and Miss Spencer’s escape.”

Madison raised an eyebrow. “What do you mean?”

“Whether or not we should…support them,” Shaun said, pausing a moment in consideration. “If the stories unit X6-88, Gerald Spencer, and the observations from our watchers are all correct, then the Minutemen were the ones who facilitated and guided your escape.”

“They were,” Madison said. “Still, what are you suggesting?”

“I have to concur,” Allie put in. “We don’t deal much with the people topside apart from at University Point and, even then, it’s only a handful of people with whom we deal directly.”

“Not to mention they might be a bit…wary to the idea of receiving any kind of support from the Institute,” Clayton said, shaking his head. “A lot of people have the wrong impression of us on the surface. With all the accidents in the first and second generation synth programmes, I don’t blame them for being wary of us. Then again, as you said, sir, I can’t help but feel we owe the Minutemen something.”

“Seeing as Jacqueline and I might still be being held by the Brotherhood if not for them, yes, we do,” Madison conceded. “Do we know of any work they’re doing or planning on doing where discrete and secret intervention by us could support them?”

“I’ll need to confirm the reports again before taking action, but our surveillance has indicated they appear to be planning to retake their former base of operations at a site they call ‘the Castle,’” Alana said, opening a few files on her tablet. “Considering the Minutemen are also providing an…additional layer of security and protection for our operations at University Point – whether they realise it or not – letting them get the upper hand against the Brotherhood could be rather beneficial for us.”

“True, though whether or not we come up with a way to support the Minutemen, there's a lot we need to figure out, at the moment,” Alan said, looking tired at the thought. “The Brotherhood are certainly not going away any time soon, and, while attacking their base was fine for us, I am concerned the alleged ‘Mechanist’ whose robots attacked them may attack our operations as well.”

“A reasonable fear,” Madison said, frowning. “We’ll have to keep a close watch on that particular situation, though, for now, I don’t think we have to worry about them. A bunch of robots made of a bunch of scrap parts jammed together with no rhyme or reason? I doubt we’ll have any trouble dealing with them, if we ever have to engage.”

“The construction of the robots may not look like much, but the reports do suggest they’re rather durable,” Alan said, taking a few notes. “I wouldn’t discount the creator of these robots – whomever they may be – as unintelligent or unskilled and for that reason I still think caution would be prudent. While we’ve already significantly scaled back the number of third generation synths in the field, for the sake of security, I think we should restrict the third generation synths we put in the field to being almost exclusively Coursers, deployed as necessary.”

“So much as I would like to avoid having to reduce our work in the Commonwealth proper, I would tend to agree, Dr. Binet,” Shaun said, looking faintly annoyed. “That said, our two most important operations in the Commonwealth are complete, those being, of course, the rescue of Dr. Li and Miss Spencer and the retrieval of the Mass Fusion beryllium agitator.”

“Having the agitator in our possession is certainly a relief,” Madison turned to Allie. “What’s the status on its integration? I noticed the last four months since its retrieval have been focused on its analysis and experimentation.”

“The agitator and the additional materials we’ve uncovered regarding its development and planned uses are in much better condition than we were expecting,” Allie replied. “As you and I already discussed, we’re working on adjusting our secondary reactor to be compatible with the agitator, which is proving more time consuming than we had originally anticipated. The Mass Fusion experimental reactor turned out to be significantly different from the second of the two CIT fusion reactors we inherited.”

“It was an off the books military project, wasn’t it?” Madison paused in consideration when she nodded. “I suppose it’s unsurprising we’d have to make adjustments but, honestly, I’m just glad one of them has always worked. Being able to get the secondary reactor online now is, frankly, something of a luxury we’ve fallen on good enough fortune to be able to do.”

“Absolutely,” Clayton said. “It’ll be nice to be able to rely solely on our own power rather than having to discretely supplement our power needs from the surface. I’m certainly hoping to be able to bring the Synth Zoological Initiative back up to speed once we get the second reactor running.”

“Our own pet projects aside, getting both reactors online will allow us to finally have enough energy to begin the robot wars again,” Alan chuckled. “If there’s anything that gets the kids interested in science around here, it’s the chance to fight their classmates with robots. I’m quite looking forward to it.”

“The last time we were able to have the ‘robot wars’ was 2284, wasn’t it?” Nate lightly smiled. “I have to agree and, frankly, they’re rather entertaining to watch.”

“Well, in that case, once we complete Phase Three, I suggest we allow, along with some of the other scientists her age, Jacqueline to be one of the team leaders,” Madison said, happier than she was keen to admit when she noticed Allie seemed to agree and, albeit only a little, relax out of the corners of her eyes. “I’m sure she’d enjoy it and, all things considered, while she’s been more than happy to return to her usual work, she deserves something of a break.”

“Yes, she does,” Shaun said, pausing a few seconds in thought. “As for the completion of Phase Three, I have no doubt in my mind it’ll run smoothly from here on out, by virtue of having the agitator in our possession and you back safely, Dr. Li. Having led the project the past three years, I suspect I speak for everyone when I say your return should put the project back onto a better timetable.”

“I certainly hope it will,” Madison said, her lips flattening into a thin line. “Even if only because completing Phase Three and shifting to full self sufficiency will – finally – make it damn near impossible for the Brotherhood to find us.”

Goodneighbour
March the 31st, 2289
10:01

“Anne? What’s wrong with your arm?”

Feeling hands tugging at her arm, fear latching onto her, when her eyes snapped open, the first thing Dr. Annette Christine Davis heard was herself screaming. The hands suddenly let go and, a little disoriented, she frantically began looking around only to startle and pull the heavy, dark silky blankets tighter around her when she saw who was standing no more than a foot away from her. Deeply confused by his father’s special friend, five year old Duncan Robert MacCready stared at her, his eyes wide and his long hair messily falling over and around his face. A bit shakily, and feeling rather cold and embarrassed, Annette pulled the blankets even tighter still around herself while she half sat up, still trying to calm herself down. Duncan kept staring at her, getting a little antsy when she still did not say anything. Her heart sinking when she saw the young boy’s father was not beside her or, even, in the room, Annette briefly closed her eyes, pushing aside her disappointment. Awkwardly rolling back and forth on his feet from his heels to his toes, Duncan briefly considered going to get his father from down the hall in the kitchen but decided not to when he looked back at Annette who seemed a little more calm.

“Did the bad men hurt your arm?” The five year old said, looking down at his feet when he saw her flinch. “It just looks…strange. With all the whiteish pinkish lines and all.”

“They did, but I’ve also…been in a lot of accidents over the years,” Annette hesitated. “Sometimes they leave scars or little marks. But I’m safe now.”

Duncan nodded. “Do you still get into accidents like that?”

“Haven’t in several years,” Annette assured him. “Now, go find your dad. I’ll…come see you two in a few minutes. I just need to close my eyes a little longer. Can you close the door behind you so I can do that?”

“Yep!” He said cheerfully, skipping out of the room. “Get a good sleep!”

The second the door slammed shut behind him, Annette breathed a sigh of relief. For a minute or two, she rested her arms over her eyes, before reaching over to where she had left her red reading glasses on the nightstand. When she put them on, and everything came into focus, she stared at her arms, feeling sick when she grazed her fingers over some of the marks. Scars. Healed burns. The new ones, rawer than the others, left her nauseated and, not wanting to dwell on it, took one last look around the room to ensure she was alone before all but running over to the dresser to take out and slip into a new bra and underwear, the ones from the night before already in the laundry basket half tossed up against the wall by the bathroom. She felt better when she was finally back in a soft, long sleeved v-neck and soft flared pants. Nervously wrapping her arms around herself, she hesitated a few seconds before stepping out of the bedroom, weakly smiling at Duncan when she found him waiting for her just outside the door. The five year old suddenly grabbed her hand and began tugging her down the hall, yelling for his father who laughed when he turned to see Annette scooping him up, and carrying him over to sit at the kitchen island. Duncan waved at her after she set him down. The five year old then grinned at his father when he saw him, after a few seconds of hesitation, gently loop one arm around his special friend’s waist and reach over to slide her nearly knee length, braided hair over her left shoulder.

“You sleep alright?” MacCready smiled when she nodded. “Glad to hear it.”

Annette lightly kissed him. “I’m just happy it’s finally real.”

MacCready gave her a reassuring squeeze. “And what’s that?”

“I’ve finally found someone so soft and romantic,” She said, resting her hands lightly on his chest. “Now, it’s not a dream I wake up from where we walk and talk together and, then, I’m taken up in someone’s arms.”

“You tell pretty stories,” Duncan hummed to himself. “Do you think you can tell me stories sometimes like daddy does?”

“Depends,” She replied. “What kind of stories do you want to hear?”

Duncan shrugged. “I don’t know. I’ll let you know when I do.”

“I’m sure you will,” MacCready chuckled, briefly letting Annette go to take his son’s pancakes off the stove and onto a plate. “You going to be alright if we step outside for a few?”

“Sure,” Duncan said, grinning when his dad pushed the plate of pancakes and a glass of orange juice over to him. “Make sure you shut off the stove!”

“Don’t worry, I will,” MacCready assured him, pausing to watch Annette step out onto the balcony after sweeping something out of her purse. “You really keep me on top of things,” He rolled his eyes when Duncan made a jokingly innocent face, checking one last time to ensure the stove was off. “And are adorable about it.”

“I’m helpful,” Duncan cheerfully said.

“And a good kid,” MacCready said, affectionately ruffling his son’s long, messy hair. “I’m proud of you, buddy. You know that, right?”

Letting out a sigh of relief when Duncan nodded, the former gunner hesitated for a minute before, seeing his son was contentedly eating his pancakes and drinking his juice with a comic book beside him, heading towards the doors out onto the balcony. The late March air warmer than usual, he did not bother to grab his jacket on the way out, more than comfortable in his t-shirt and jeans. Seeing Annette smile when he stepped through the doors and out onto the balcony with her, MacCready carefully shut the doors, then wrapping an arm around her again. Already lively and a bit chaotic in the streets below, Annette turned slightly to face him, leaning back a little against the railings with one hand resting on his chest and a lit cig in the other. She let it fall to the ground below when MacCready pulled her in a little closer, and briefly closed her eyes when she rested her head on his chest. His fingers bounced delicately up and down her long, braided hair before pausing when she looked up, her glasses a bit askew and her eyes a bit misty.

“You sure you’re alright?” MacCready sighed when she hesitated. “I –”

“No, it’s not your fault, I…I’m sorry,” Annette said quietly. “For breaking down after last night. It…it’s been awhile and...and even longer since it was with someone I truly love.”

“And I’ll say it again, you have nothing to feel sorry for,” MacCready said, cupping her left cheek with one hand and brushing aside a few rogue tears with his thumb. “Besides,” He lightly teased. “I haven’t had that much fun in a long time.”

Annette laughed. “I could say the same.”

“Good to know,” MacCready said, softly kissing her. “I meant what I said, you know. When I was trying to help you fall asleep. I remembered what you said on our first date, when you said you never break a promise and, really, I couldn’t be happier to have found it’s true. I don’t say sh*t I don’t mean, either, doll. I didn’t take it lightly when I told you I love you, and I’m happy to know you feel the same. I just want to make sure you’re alright.”

“I know you do,” Annette said, her voice wavering. “I suppose I wasn’t expecting it. I...”

“If laying your head on my chest while I play with your hair is what you need for me to soothe you, I’m more than happy to oblige,” MacCready calmly told her. “And, if it helps…you felt lovely, and I’m lucky to have you for so many reasons, it seems, now.”

Annette blushed. “You also felt lovely but are you trying to embarrass me, Bobby?”

“That’s the furthest thing from my mind, doll,” He said, lightly kissing her again. “After everything you’ve done for me? After what you’ve come to mean to…no, I’m not trying to embarrass you, Netta. Just glad to see you happy.”

“I’m lucky to have you, then,” She replied. “I really am.”

“So am I,” MacCready said, briefly letting her go to twirl her before bringing her back into his arms. “Just two years ago, I really thought the feeling of having someone who’s always there with a shoulder to lean on was gone forever but, then, I met you. I couldn’t be happier that you’ve been here, lending me your shoulder despite what we’d both been through until now.”

Annette smiled. “Well, I won’t be going anywhere, so don’t worry.”

“I’ll do my best,” MacCready said, pulling her in a little to hold her flush against him, smiling himself when she delicately rested her hands on his chest. “I knew I was taking a chance when I dumped all my feelings on the table but, now I know how you really feel about me…it was definitely worth the risk.”

Chapter 35: Something Traced

Chapter Text

Diamond City
April the 2nd, 2289
23:18

“She’s insufferable, and so damn smug about it and the fact she’s a former Courser. You know what those are? The Institute’s hunters. Only good news is she’s supposedly going to stay the hell out of my way as much as possible, but I still don’t feel entirely comfortable with her or them, if they can get me into the Institute or not. I’m pretty sure the only one of them who actually cares about me is, well...”

“She will stay out of your way if she knows what’s good for her. You are a fire fight. You need my remedy? The trick is simple. Insufferable people are dampened in their annoying things by a good drink. Let me get you one on the house, lapochka.”

His usual, lighthearted self, Vadim Bobrov popped the cap on one of the best beers he could find before handing it to the irritable former lawyer, humming to himself. After a few sips, and setting the drink down to her left, Nora gave the cheery bartender a half smile, which he happily returned. She laughed a little when she saw Cait reach over and grab his hand, dragging him forward and, having caught him by surprise, managing to pin his arm down for a few seconds. She winked when she let go, telling him with a smirk to time her and pour twenty eight shots of the man’s best moonshine. Perking up from where she had been swirling her drink in its glass, half asleep, Rowdy excitedly began tugging at the former lawyer’s right arm, briefly startling her though she, amused, rolled her eyes and swept up her beer to swap seats with the Atom Cats’ leading lady. Clapping and cheering when Vadim brought out the shots, Rowdy elbowed Cait, now on the former cage fighter's right, and began frantically whispering to her, all but begging her to win. The ruckus getting their attention, Zeke and Bluejay left the two women they had been flirting with to come over to and cheer Cait on. The former cage fighter cracked her knuckles with a smirk before snapping her fingers only a few inches away from Vadim’s face.

“If I win,” She said, her eyes glinting with mischief. “You have to give me these free, don’t you?”

“I do,” Vadim said, dusting his hands off. “Why so bold tonight, lapochka?”

“Doing as many shots as I’ve got years alive,” Cait winked. “Turned twenty eight a week and a half ago, and me thinks I got a pretty good chance.”

“Time starts in seventeen seconds,” Vadim turned towards the clock. “Be prepared.”

“She will be!” Rowdy cheered. “Shots, shots, shots!”

The second the seconds hand passed over, the first minute having begun, the former cage fighter snatched up the first two shots, taking one after the other. Seeing Zeke was watching the clock, Vadim turned back to take the empty shot glasses as they were downed. Five already before him, he chuckled. Six. Seven. Eight. Nine. Ten. Eleven. Twelve. Thirteen. Fourteen. Halfway there, Zeke shouting out she had a little more than a minute left, Cait snatched up one, downed it, and then the next, her hands moving in a frantic rhythm. Her pace almost as quick as his, Vadim counted the empty shot glasses as he took them down from the counter the moment she set them back down. Rowdy kept cheering, Bluejay and several other patrons joining in. Zeke shouted out she had thirty more seconds. Twenty one. Twenty two. Twenty three. Twenty four. Twenty five. Twenty six. Out of the corners of her eyes, the former cage fighter realised Nora had abandoned her beer and had come around to be on her left side. Smiling at her, adrenaline seizing her when she saw the seconds hand close to passing over, Cait snatched up the last two shots and downed them in quick succession before taking a twenty ninth from Zeke for good luck, breaking the last glass in her attempt to slam it down with the others. The glass shattered shortly before the seconds hand passed over and, taken aback, Vadim began frantically clapping, cheering for her with Rowdy, Zeke, Bluejay, and the crowd.

Swivelling in her chair, Cait leapt up and, startling her, threw her arms around Nora and kissed her.

For a few seconds, she felt nothing.

Then, a soft, light pressure met her lips.

“Think I’ve got a reputation to protect,” Cait said when she let the slightly stunned former lawyer go. “I hope you don’t mind.”

Nora nervously laughed. “I…I don’t. Didn’t think you would actually try to…take that many shots.”

“In just under two minutes, too!” Zeke shouted, lifting the former cage fighter up on his right shoulder, Bluejay lifting her up on his left. “If you people don’t all chip in and buy this crazy bitch dinner, you’re a f*cking c*nt! She just set a new record! Think you can beat it?”

“Let me tell you a secret,” Rowdy said, slipping past them to whisper to Nora while the crowd cheered. “I have been kissed by her before, too, and, trust me, hold onto that moment. Cait’s good at it, when she feels bothered to.”

“She…she’s certainly talented at quite a lot,” Nora said, awkwardly wrapping her arms around herself, leaning back against the bar. Is that what the strange feeling was…am I sweet on… “She’s –”

“Yefim!” Rowdy hollered, nearly knocking the former lawyer to the floor when she pulled herself up onto the bar. “Guess who’s the new record holder for most shots of your moon –”

“I can tell,” He irritably cut in, loudly clapping to get everyone to quiet down. “If you’re going to yell,” He grumbled when the room when almost silent. “Then please do so outside. Some of us like to rest at nighttime.”

“You are no fun!” Vadim nonchalantly waved a hand at his brother as he walked over to him. “What is the point having a nice bar if you do not make noise for the best of patrons?”

“He means me!” Cait said, her arms swaying above her head before falling to rest atop it. “I, Catherine Savannah Felgate, am the prestigious shot taking record holder of the Dugout Inn!”

Rowdy cheered. “You tell ‘em!”

“Put her down before you drop her,” Nora sent Zeke and Bluejay a pointed look, the two men beginning to wobble. “Last thing anyone wants is for Cait to get concussed.”

“Taking care of me?” The former cage fighter grinned as she was set back down onto her feet. “Good to know. Think Piper is getting tired of being the only one.”

“Really?” Nora said, laughing a little. “Why?”

“Passed out on the couch in her office one too many times,” Cait cheerfully replied, her steps a bit wavy. “Haven’t done it since…about two years ago. Got woken up by one of her cats jumping on me head. Nearly clawed part of me scalp off.”

“Had that happen, once,” Zeke said, looking disgruntled at the memory. “Must have been ten or so years ago. Also wasn’t a cat.”

“Sure it was,” Rowdy teased. “The Cat in question just so happened to be Andy.”

“Good times,” Zeke said, briefly pounding his fist to his chest. “Man is well missed.”

Nora raised an eyebrow. “What happened to him?”

“Have to agree,” Cait said, laughing and draping an arm over Nora’s shoulders. “I only vaguely remember this bloke, and I’ve been dropping in on you lot for years now.”

“When did you meet them?” Nora said, a distant but familiar fluttering feeling in her body when Cait rested her head on her shoulder. “And, honestly, how?”

“Must have been four or five years ago,” Cait said with a shrug. “It was shortly before I ended up in the Combat Zone. Was wandering, getting by mostly by fighting or stealing, and got f*cked up after breaking me left foot. Rowdy and Bluejay found me trying to fix it and dragged me back to their garage by the nape of me neck.”

“Because you looked like a sick kitten, buster,” Rowdy said, sauntering over to ruffle the former cage fighter’s shoulder length, messy hair. “Finally found someone shorter than me too.”

Cait scowled. “I wear me steel toed boots everywhere for a reason. Not that anyone who’d try and mock me for being an inch and some change shy of a round five f*cking feet tall is still around to tell the tale.”

“Me and Nora look tall to you, then?” Rowdy teased, twirling her fingers in front of Cait’s face. “As members of the ‘barely past five feet tall’ club?”

Cait rolled her eyes. “And here I was thinking we were about to mourn good old Aiming Andy.”

“Found you about six months before he took the long walk,” Rowdy said, nonchalantly leaning back against the bar counter. “Or the dirt nap. Call it what you want.”

“If we were a cult, we could say he ascended,” Bluejay snickered, hopping up to sit next to her. “But, no, it was a stupid accident,” He shrugged and turned to Nora. “Andy would’ve had the name Handy Andy if it weren’t for the fact he actually won when all us guys took our dicks out to see who had the biggest and longest –”

“Thanks for the nightmarish memory, Bluejay,” Rowdy twitted him over the head, smirking when she saw Nora was laughing. “He’s just being a little bitch for the fun of it,” She said, stretching out her arms. “Andy would be proud. If he hadn’t set himself on fire trying to rig fireworks.”

“He what?” Nora eyed her strangely. “I can’t tell if you’re pulling my leg or if…”

“It’s true,” Rowdy said, suddenly snatching the nearest of the former lawyer’s hands to her. “And, hey, I heard what you were telling Vadim. About the bitchy ex-Institute agent? She and her friends might lie to you but, I promise, we don’t. We ain’t exactly pretty but being covered in power armour grease and drinking beer and some Nuka Colas…it’s better than anything someone that high minded could even imagine.”

Nora smiled. “There’s one woman amongst them who’s willing to fight for me. Knowing that…it helps at least a little, for what it’s worth.”

“Then the rest of them still have a lot to learn,” Rowdy replied, winking in approval at Cait when Nora pulled her a little closer to her. “Because sh*t gets easier when you give up on your f*cking pride and focus on what really matters and, far as I’m concerned, that’s always the people you care about most.”

“Listen to her,” Bluejay said, jokingly twitting Rowdy at the back of the head. “She learnt that lesson the hard way.”

“If it took me waking up nearly dead on the side of the road and being rescued by you idiots to learn to give a sh*t about people other than me, I’d say it was worth it,” Rowdy said, letting Nora’s hands go to playfully smack Bluejay with the back of her hand. “Life can be a bitch. Seeing it ain’t breaking you and got people at your back, though? I think you’ve got a damn good fighting chance.”

The Institute
April the 9th, 2289
14:00

Clean.

Brimming with people.

And absolutely massive.

Always a bit wary of direct interaction with the Institute but, in particular, with their ‘Coursers,’ being informed he was to be escorted to and through the Institute by one had made the ever anxious Gerald Spencer very nearly sick. Those feelings were overcome by awe and disbelief almost the moment he and his escort had stepped out from the disorienting teleporter. Knowing how his daughter got to and from the Institute had been one thing, but experiencing it was another; it was utterly nauseating, and his head hurt badly when he rematerialised beside the ‘Courser.’ His hands shaking, he jammed them into the pockets of his light jacket, careful to follow the ‘Courser’ all but perfectly, fearful of doing something he was not supposed to. He tried not to become distracted as they walked through the gargantuan, underground city. Down to a...subway, of sorts, he suspected. After a few stops, onto a lift. A long walk of, at least, ten minutes. Finally, up a flight of stairs. Then another. A few more minutes later and they reached a door through which he was led. He all but froze in the doorway when it was opened and the ‘Courser’ departed, taken aback at seeing the woman whom, begrudgingly, he acknowledged was his daughter’s foster mother. Seeing his daughter beside her mentor, his shoulders dropped their tension and, once it was clear he was being given permission, he sat down beside her foster mother on her left, and her mentor on her right.

Taking in the rest of the room, his anxieties and fears ebbed away into curiosity. Preoccupation in his thoughts began to take over when he looked between the man at the head of the table and the man directly across from him at the other end of the table. Similar. They looked so similar; were they father and son? The longer he looked between them, the more striking the similarities were, though the younger of the two men, around his late fifties or early sixties, so far as Gerald reckoned, had a full beard as well as thick hair. I wish I had worn my baseball cap now. My bald spots are… Trying not dwell on it, Gerald fought to keep himself observant. The older of the two men, nearing eighty, he imagined, was perfectly clean shaven but possessed the same thick hair. Both men had very nearly the same bone structure, and the same expressive edge to their eyes. He shifted to looking at the man across from him to avoid seeming strange by staring too long. Surprised by how much younger he and his daughter’s foster mother looked compared to the others present, Gerald bit down on the urge to pry. Beside the young man was sat the sour faced, irritable woman of whom had come to inform him of his daughter’s and Dr. Li’s disappearance. Much content than the rest of them was the middle aged man beside her in a hazmat suit, and, across from him, sat Dr. Li, then his daughter, his daughter’s foster mother, and, finally, him.

“Everything about this place is…incredible,” He hesitantly said, continuing when no one objected though he did begin to stutter. “How long have you been here? And, if I may ask, how many people live and work here?”

“We’ve been here since the conclusion of the War topside,” Allie informed him. “As for how many people live and work here, as a result of our extensive – I suppose one could call it a city – building out, deeper and deeper and farther east and farther west ever since, currently we have seven hundred and fifty six thousand members of the Institute, give or take.”

Gerald gaped at her. “Nearly a million people? That’s amazing.”

“It is, but it is not why we are here, Mister Spencer,” The man at the head of the table said. “Since I was the one who ordered the recruitment of your daughter to the Institute in the first place, and in light of your cooperation and patience with us the last several years, we thought it most prudent you be present to hear the final account of what happened to your daughter and Dr. Li.”

Gerald bowed his head. “Understood.”

“Additionally, because you’re already quite familiar with Dr. Li and Dr. Filmore, I’ll make the introductions swift,” The older of the two men said calmly. “I am Nathaniel Norwich and my son, Shaun, at the head of the table, is the Institute’s Director. To my left you have Dr. Holdren representing the Bioscience Division, and, next to him, Dr. Alana Secord representing the Synth Retention Bureau. Beside Dr. Secord is Dr. Binet representing the Robotics Division Division. And, of course, as you well know, Dr. Li represents the Advanced Systems Division and Dr. Filmore represents the Facilities Division.”

“Thank you,” Gerald said with a small smile. “Alright, then,” He said, looking sick again at the thought. “Please let them explain what occurred before you tell me what I’m supposed to do or meant to do.”

“Of course. You should know, also, that we will be…covertly aiding the Minutemen who played a significant role in the rescue of your daughter and Dr. Li, starting with clearing out their former base of operations known as ‘the Castle.’”

Gerald nervously nodded. “Of course.”

“I’d also like to thank you for informing us through X6-88 of that plan, as it made it possible for us to have unit X6-88 intercept them once they were seen to be well away from the Brotherhood’s installation by our other…intelligence sources,” Shaun said politely. “Dr. Li,” He said, shifting slightly in his chair to be better oriented towards her. “Please commence your testimony. I will be recording this as I have with the previous interviews of you and Jacqueline on the matter.”

“As this is for the sake of being fully transparent with Gerald, I’ll be as short as possible. I have no desire to ruminate on the matter any longer,” Madison narrowly glanced at Gerald. “Using a…strong inhaled anaesthetic, a Brotherhood Knight, assisted by a field Scribe, accosted me and Jacqueline near the insertion point about a mile outside of University Point at which we usually Relay to for her visits home. After they were successful in forcing us to lose consciousness, they, as I understand it, had us carried to a vertibird and flown up to the Brotherhood’s massive airship, called the Prydwen.”

Gerald swallowed hard. “Did…they didn’t do permanent damage to either of you, did they?”

“Thankfully not,” Madison said irritably. “Jacqueline was completely uninjured and, while I received a first degree chemical burn on one of my cheeks, I’ve healed perfectly fine. Unfortunately for both of us, that was comparatively mild to what they demanded and forced upon us after about a month of our being under their thumb.”

“It was,” Jacq trembled, looking down at her hands after Allie reached over to set a reassuring hand to her shoulders. “The Brotherhood, they’re trying to make a weapon to control everyone. The Commonwealth, all of us, everyone, and wanted me and Dr. Li to complete it so they could use it against us here because we’re ‘the enemy’ in their eyes.”

“The weapon in question is a pre-War military project that had, at the time of its inception, never seen the light of day due to power problems that couldn’t be resolved. About ten years ago, with my assistance, they were able to get its reactor running and used the gargantuan robot – called ‘Liberty Prime’ to finally put an end to the so-called Enclave,” Madison sighed. “They did the right thing, then. The Enclave had terrorised and done everything to make the lives of everyone they came into contact with a living hell, claiming they could because they were made up of the remains of the US Federal Government.”

“Liberty Prime,” Allie said when Gerald’s gaze became glassy and lost. “Was a massive, bipedal robot whose primary weapon was the nuclear bomb. It had been meant to be used to defeat China and Russia during the War and, specifically, to regain control of Anchorage, Alaska.”

“Having done the right thing then, a decade ago, was well needed and good. I’ll never deny it, and there are a handful of former Brotherhood members whom I knew at the time I still hold great respect for. In every way, the project was a success and I had assumed they would abandon it after it was destroyed in the final battle that eliminated the Enclave entirely,” Madison frowned. “That turned out to not be the case. Since then, they’ve had a massive overturn in leadership and their current leader, a man by the name of Arthur Maxson, is under thirty. He, apparently, made the decision to revive the project and to use me and Jacqueline to put it back together.”

“What?” Gerald suddenly exclaimed, staring at her in disbelief. “So, it’s your fault the thing’s here now?”

“It is not,” Shaun calmly intervened. “Dr. Li is correct that the Brotherhood’s actions, then, were justified and with good intention. She is also correct in stating they’ve changed drastically since then, and it was a reasonable assumption to make that the Brotherhood would not waste time and resources on the project after its success.”

“I…” Gerald nervously looked away from Madison, disquieted by the anger that had, albeit briefly, crossed her face. “I understand. I think, really, I just need someone to blame for this. For what my daughter went through.”

“Which would be Arthur Maxson and the rest of the Brotherhood,” Madison pointedly said. “At least you care about your daughter and want a safe and strong moral footing for her. The same certainly can’t be said for Maxson and his wife.”

“Dr. Li,” Cade had said, a warning note to his voice. “I respect your care for the girl, but your judgements on Elder Maxson are unreasonable. You don’t even have experience as a parent yourself, as you never have been and never will be a parent.”

“Not biologically,” Madison had told him, crossing her arms. “Look at Jacq. Or Annette though, if you need a reminder. Especially her.”

“Dr. Davis,” He had corrected. “Was not and is not your daughter.”

“Please tell me you’re kidding. She and I may not have gotten on perfectly, and certainly not when I first met her, but you’re wrong,” Madison had snapped back, her heartrate spiking a moment. “She’s as good as.”

“I can assure you, Gerald, your daughter is safe here,” Shaun said, his voice startling the head of Advanced Systems away from her bitter thoughts. “Should you need a little time here to feel assured of that,” He gave Alana a sharp look. “I doubt anyone here would object.”

“Th…thank you,” Gerald stuttered, about ready to cry when his daughter turned to look at him. “If she wants me here…then I…I owe it to her as her father to ensure her happiness. Her safety. That has always been my priority.”

Diamond City
April the 13th, 2289
16:43

Of all the things everyone from his secretary to the General of the Minutemen had told him about the state of things on a certain fog covered Island, Nicholas Julius Valentine had not anticipated being presented with a photograph of a synth whose appearance had more than a few disturbing similarities to his own.

The moment he saw the signature of his former business partner on the back of the photograph, addressed to him and his secretary, he knew it was authentic. There was no more room to doubt the man’s existence. I really hoped you were pulling my leg, Ellie. You and everyone else, too. It was impossible to mistake my mug for anyone else but now…it’s just hard. Folding the photograph back up, the aged detective slipped it into his desk and jammed it shut. He slid back in his chair and swivelled in it to face his companions. Ellie had pushed herself up to sit atop her desk, her legs crossed daintily over her ankles. The General of the Minutemen and his right hand man were standing leaned back against the wall, speaking in low tones with Sturges Presley as he worked on fixing up the electrical issues in the office; somehow, in the span of only a few weeks, the lighting, plumbing, heating, and cooling had all begun shorting out. Where it had frustrated the aged detective and his secretary, Sturges was, himself, perfectly content to be working through each issue one at a time. Quite unlike him was the youngest of them present, the newly minted eighteen year old’s movements antsy when she finally cracked and went over to the detective’s desk, attempting to sweep up one of the files on it to read. The detective was faster.

“That case won’t be interesting to you,” Nick said with a smirk. “But nice try, Ada.”

“Did you recognise the guy running Acadia?” She burst out, unable to contain her curiosity any longer. “I told my dad and Preston I think the two of you could have left the Institute together, but –”

“If the Institute trashed us both at the same time, I think I’d remember it,” Nick said, any hint of levity leaving him. “Guess I shouldn’t be surprised they made two similar prototypes, or that they trashed us. They certainly don’t care about what happens to what they’ve made after they decide we’re no longer useful to them. Makes sense why one would build up a refuge for synths, come to think of it.”

“I’m not sure of his intentions, though,” Ellie said, startling when a socket crackled and briefly sparked. “I can’t say I envy you, Sturges. How do you do this without constantly freaking out?”

“Get used to it, after the first few times,” He replied, unscrewing the wall cover. “Think some of the wires need to be patched up or replaced. When was the last time you had someone with tools and some old fashioned handy training in here?”

“Fifteen or ten years ago,” Nick chuckled, looking to Ellie. “You were what? Twenty five at the time?”

“Revealing a woman’s age, are you?” She rolled her eyes with a small smile. “It was twelve years ago, and, yes, I was twenty five at the time. I’d just started working for you and thought I would get fired because I thought my spilling coffee caused the electrical issues.”

“Definitely wasn’t the coffee,” Nick winked. “I knew it wasn’t your fault, Perky. I stopped doing upkeep around the office after I was no longer Diamond City’s unofficial mechanic.”

“Well, at least the first issue was quick and easy to resolve,” Sturges said, beginning to examine the wires. “Surprised you didn’t know smoke detectors need to be replaced every ten or so years.”

“I assumed the batteries were defective and that’s why it was on the fritz,” Nick said. “It’s not something I think about every day. But, back to the case,” He turned to Ellie. “You said you’re not sure of his intentions? What makes you say that? Your judgement’s usually pretty damn good, all things considered.”

“From what Kasumi told Ada – only person she was really comfortable talking to for longer than a few minutes – it sounded as though she was lured to Acadia,” Ellie sat down at her desk and wrapped the shawl she had draped over the back of its chair around herself. “That’s the theory Kenji believes, at any rate, and I’m worried he’s right.”

“Telling her she’s a synth replacement certainly tracks with that,” Nick grimly remarked. “Hearing that didn’t sit well with me either.”

“It’s what makes me worried for her,” Preston said with a shake of the head. “He – Dima is what everyone calls him – was reluctant to tell us anything at all about Acadia. I thought it was understandable at first, knowing what the Institute might do if they find them, but I can’t help but wonder why he took so long to observe us before telling us anything more than vague assurances. It almost felt as if he were conducting an experiment and we were his subjects.”

“I’d like to be able to disagree, but all of that’s true,” Derek tiredly pushed up his glasses. “We were observing him too, of course, but the feeling of something being…questionable while we were there was hard to shake.”

“Kasumi says she thinks she’s a synth because a lot of her early childhood is hazy and she has strange nightmares where she gets jolted over and over in the back of the head by mysterious people in a bright, clinical room,” Ada said, sitting down on the floor, leaning against the wall with her arms crossed. “But a lot of people have fuzzy early memories and get bad nightmares. I don’t think she’s a synth. I think she got bored and lonely out in the middle of butt ass nowhere and took the first excuse she could find to go exploring.”

“Wouldn’t be the first time a bored teenager went wandering to dangerous parts of the Commonwealth on their own,” Nick sighed. “I’ve seen plenty of cases like it, and it’s always a fifty fifty toss up as to whether or not the case is resolved with a happy ending. Knowing she’s alive and in a safe location is good, but it’s not the best place for her to be. If they’ve convinced her she’s a synth, then they could probably convince her of just about anything.”

“Think it might be something of a cult?” Preston looked at the aged detective in surprise. “I thought she had convinced herself she’s a synth. If you’re right they coaxed her into it…that’s not a good sign.”

“No, it’s not,” Nick agreed with a frown. “I’ll be going out to speak with Kenji and Rei myself in a few weeks. Meant to go sooner, but he’s become convinced someone is watching them and me going could put him and Rei on some sort of list. My original plan would have had me leave in mid-March, but Kenji insisted it would be bad luck. The ‘Ides Of March’ and all. He’s always been a superstitious man, and, if he were anyone else, I’d say to hell with it and go out there anyways.”

Ada eyed him curiously. “How come?”

“Because, if we want any hope at learning from him and Rei why Kasumi may have left, I need to have his complete trust,” Nick replied. “I’d do it either way out of respect for him and our previous work together, but he probably won’t be willing to get into the nitty gritty about what might have preceded Kasumi’s sudden urge to leave with anyone he doesn’t have a long rap sheet of trust with. We know Kasumi is safe where she is, whether it’s the healthiest environment to be in or not, and if it takes time to get the bigger picture then it’ll take time.”

“Long way of telling me to be patient,” Ada muttered, sulking a little. “But alright.”

“Was planning on helping you all out in the meantime, while I wait on Kenji,” Nick brushed her comment off and turned to Preston, Sturges, and Derek. “You still planning on retaking the old Minutemen base of operations at the Castle?”

“Yep,” Sturges said, temporarily looking up from his work. “We’ve mostly finalised our plans. A pretty decent sized crew of us are going to meet up with the group currently surveying the site and clean out whatever…animal infestations probably built up in there and, then, get the old radio signal running again. It’ll do us a hell of a lot of good if we can pull it off.”

“Thinking of joining us?” Preston smiled when Nick nodded. “Appreciate it, Nick. Getting the radio back up and running to allow us to have a better communications network is the practical side, but reclaiming the site should tell everyone we’re here to stay.”

“Will send a message to the Brotherhood, that’s for sure,” Nick said with a slight smirk which quickly faded. “One they need to hear, too, by all accounts.”

“What they’ve become is truly disheartening,” Derek said, biting back fury. “The level they have sunk to is horrific. Lyons was by no means a perfect man or leader, but he would never have condoned even a fraction of what they have done.”

“Didn’t think you could make me feel sorry for the Institute, but they managed it,” Nick darkly noted. “Much as I don’t like the thought of getting into bed with the Institute for any reason, the enemy of my enemy is my friend.”

“I definitely got more questions than answers about the Institute,” Sturges said. “Always had a lot, same as anyone else, but this really threw a wrench into things.”

“It’s made things feel all the more complicated,” Preston said before sighing. “I’m sticking with the stance I’ve had from the beginning. If the Brotherhood hurt people in the Commonwealth – but especially in the settlements we’re duty bound to protect – then we will do what is necessary to protect the people and nothing more. The same applies to the Institute.”

Nick smiled. “And that nuance is exactly why you’re the right man to be leading the Minutemen. You’re a good man, Preston, and doing the Commonwealth proud.”

The Commonwealth
April the 19th, 2289
13:31

“It’s an old consumer electronics gallery. I know this is where our Brothers saw the…hastily made robots, but I just can’t fathom why they would be here.”

“If you’re looking for material to work with in making something like that, it would not be a bad place to start scavenging.”

“Which would make sense if any of the reports indicated it’s the robots doing the scavenging.”

Looking between each other and their surroundings, keeping their voices low, Knight Laurent George Rhys and Scribe Janet Isla Haylen stood outside the doors in wait, their commanding officer doing a final sweep inside the building. For the Knight, antsy to get on the move, the wait was growing tiresome and agonising. For the Scribe, it was concerning. She kept close track of each minute passing by on her watch. Seven minutes. The building is fairly large, but, if Danse isn’t back by fifteen past… Gunfire began ringing out, and the Scribe and the Knight drew their weapons, only to share a confused look when the sound suddenly stopped entirely. His gun already at the ready, now, Rhys took a minute to examine and reload it. Less sure of their surroundings and situation, Haylen adjusted her bags on her shoulders. The sound of scraping metal took her by surprise but soon eased her concerns when she turned and saw her superior exit the former electronics gallery, a few neatly packed bags in one hand. Dutiful as ever, though less than thrilled to have to do any work he felt below him and for Scribes, the Knight took the bags from the Paladin and strung them over his shoulders, retaining his weapons at the ready. Few words exchanged, the Paladin, the Knight, and the Scribe returned to the road.

Turning southeast and picking up a steady pace, the Paladin halted, ordering the Scribe and the Knight to do the same upon hearing the sounds of gunfire and metal. It was then, when they heard the garbled shouts of the same message they had listened to one time too many, they picked up their pace. A few rusted through cars and toppled street lamps, a few trees, and a minute and a half of running through thick smoke later, they skidded to a halt and began to open fire at the scene. Furious as he had been when they attacked their primary military installation, the Knight left no room for hesitation and pushed into the centre of the din. Firing and kicking a few of the smaller jankily constructed robots down, disappointment soon found him as it grew clearer and clearer that it was not much of a fight. More cautious than her Brother, the Scribe swept her way behind what, at a glance, appeared to be the smouldering remains of a campsite. She knelt down, focusing her scopes and catching her targets in her sights before firing. One exploded, then another, then another. The Paladin took a similar approach to his Scribe, only stepping out of his defencive position on the back side of a tall and proud oak tree when all of the robots were broken apart on the ground and destroyed beyond repair.

The noise and the repeating message finally stopped and, satisfied at the robots’ destruction if a little disappointed at how little effort they had needed to put into the fight, the Knight, the Scribe, and the Paladin began to sweep the scene.

“Looks like a few caravaners,” Haylen noted, her stomach sinking when she took a better look at her surroundings. “I suppose they no longer need their supplies.”

“Collect them,” Rhys ordered. “We will make much better use of them than any of the lowly scavengers in this place.”

“Lowly scavengers? These were my friends.”

The Scribe took a step back as she turned around, drawing her weapon only to frown upon seeing it was no human whom had spoken but, instead, a robot.

“What are you?” She kept her gun pointed at the grimy, blue robot. “State your business, unit.”

The robot stopped moving. “Unit?”

“f*cker,” Rhys said under his breath, approaching Haylen and the robot. “Are you deluded and programmed to believe you are human?”

“I am not human. I am Ada,” The robot replied, stepping back itself when the Paladin began to walk towards the Scribe and the Knight. “Power armour?” It said upon registering the appearance of the Paladin and the Knight. “Although my friends were adept with technology, power armour was never something they were capable of utilising.”

“If these were your ‘friends,’ then they clearly were not very adept with technology if they were taken out so easily by some poorly constructed robots,” Danse narrowly observed the robot. “Tell us what you are, or you will be immediately destroyed.”

“I am Ada. My programmed voice is female, which may make it easier for you to refer to me,” The robot replied. “I am a modified assaultron, created by my friend Jackson. He is unfortunately among the dead before you. I have failed him, Liza, Zoe, and Shades. It is quite regrettable.”

“Proctor Quinlan may be interested in this…robot,” Rhys whispered to Danse. “Should we investigate it?”

“Yes,” Danse said, returning his gaze to the robot. “What is your business in the Commonwealth?”

“My friends and I were caravaners, mostly selling raw materials and repairing broken or otherwise damaged robots,” Ada said promptly. “I recognise the symbol in the centre of your power armour’s chest plate. You are a members of the Brotherhood Of Steel. My files indicate you collect technology. I hope that does not make me a target.”

Haylen raised an eyebrow. “You know of us? How? And why do you harbour that opinion?”

“My friends and I travelled from what used to be the state of Florida to come to the Commonwealth. We came across many Brotherhood troops in the process,” Ada said. “Our past encounters with your organisation were never good. I found it strange to find you here. Why travel all this way just to start a war?”

“To save humanity from itself,” Rhys irritably replied. “Something they do not appreciate.”

“If you are here to aid the people, I must request to join you. I can no longer protect my friends but, if you are fighting the robots created by the Mechanist, a human no doubt, I should like to aid you in that endeavour,” Ada continued upon hearing no protests. “You do not have to worry if I do so. I have no problems assisting with the destruction of my own kind. Perhaps if more robots possessed my mercy algorithm, we wouldn’t be forced to destroy them, but we are not in such a lucky position.”

“What do you know about this ‘Mechanist?’” Danse suspiciously probed. “I am ordering you to tell us all you know about this Mechanist and what exactly you are. If you could be useful to us, we will consider letting you accompany us. This Mechanist is a shared enemy, if only because they are a nuisance.”

“I am afraid I do not know much,” Ada said. “All I can provide you with is mild intelligence on the matter as we did not learn much of this Mechanist; we last saw a group of the Mechanist’s robots in the immediate area around the pre-War General Atomics factory. You may find information there which will lead you to the Mechanist. I will follow and assist with your permission.”

Haylen considered that. “Can you provide of us anything else of use?”

“Yes,” Ada informed her. “I can provide you with some information. My friends were quite capable and extensively modified me over the past several years. To do so they used a robotics workbench which allowed them to create and modify me or any robot given enough resources. But, if at all possible, I must accompany you if you are to put an end to the Mechanist. I seek the opportunity to prevent the Mechanist’s robots from destroying and taking further innocent lives.”

“If you are to accompany us, you will obey my every order or be destroyed,” Danse flatly replied. “Do you understand, unit?”

“Affirmative. Thank you. I wish I had the proper vocal registry to express my gratitude for this decision,” Ada responded. “This is everyone’s fight, and it is good you are taking it seriously. As long as these robots roam free, people will die and the Mechanist will only grow more powerful. A mind as dangerous as this Mechanist should not control such power.”

“That is certain,” Rhys said coldly. “If Paladin Danse permits you to travel with us, then you shall but heed his warning. We do not have time for mercy.”

“Registered and noted,” Ada told him. “I will respect your demands. Stopping this Mechanist is more important than my feelings of discomfort in surrendering part of my autonomy.”

“A robot is malfunctioning if it refuses to obey orders,” Danse said, eyeing Ada critically. “But I will permit this…experiment for now.”

“Thank you. It is clear, now, the only certainty is that these robots of the Mechanist’s bring only death despite what comes from the eyebot broadcasts falsely claiming to be championing peace and justice.”

Haylen uncomfortably looked between Danse and Rhys, letting out a tired sigh when she realised they were all feeling the same way.

“Which General Atomics factory were the units you and your…friends seen at?” Haylen said, pushing down the mite of curiosity among the discomfort. “There are several in the Commonwealth and its immediately adjacent regions.”

“Of course,” Ada said promptly. “The factory is near a former fish packaging facility called ‘Four Leaf.’”

“Fascinating,” Danse said flatly. “Very well. We will…make for the location shortly. Do not disobey us.”

Diamond City
April the 21st, 2289
21:12

When his father had told him he was going to meet his godmother for the first time, he had expected her to be soft spoken, prim, and proper like his father’s special friend.

He had not expected her to be a pale, bony, bespectacled woman with brightly coloured hair, laying on the floor atop a few blankets and staring at a ceiling fan.

Perfectly unfazed, five year old Duncan MacCready ran over to say hello, briefly startling her. When she saw who had come in, however, she hesitantly pushed herself up and sat back against the wall, wrapping one of the blankets she had been laying on around and over her shoulders. She swept up her cat into her arms when the small creature walked by, and seemed to perk up a little as her cat began purring and curling into her when she began to pet it. Duncan sat down, his legs crisscrossed, and stared at her and the little tortoiseshell cat. Her large, thick rimmed and sparkly red glasses began sliding down her face a little, but stopped when their beaded chain caught in her hair, much messier and longer than it had looked when she was laid out on the floor. The little boy’s father nervously sat down on the edge of one of the couches in the first floor over the Branson family’s large, three story house, having forgotten his childhood friend’s low times. Netta said it’s called ‘manic depressive’ which I think is what I’ve heard Lissy and her parents say before. More worried for her wife than anything else, Piper came over and sat down beside her, giving her a brief, soft kiss before wrapping an arm tightly around her. Cait, never one comfortable with much silence in a room, bobbed back and forth on her feet. The former cage fighter let out an excited squeal when she saw a pair of little black kittens come out from under the couch, knocking MacCready over when she all but ran over to pick one of them up.

“You’re so precious, ain’t you, little fella?” Cait grinned, her hands unusually delicate as she held and pet the kitten. “Even me arse can’t resist how cute you are!”

“Please don’t swear in front of my son,” MacCready said, rubbing at his head while he pulled himself back up onto his feet. “He may turn six in a little over a month, but he’s not old enough to hear things like that.”

Duncan giggled. “Hanco*ck swears lots and lots. He said his favourite word is –”

“Duncan, buddy, please don’t remind me of how I sounded at your age,” MacCready said, sighing when the other kitten began trying to climb up his leg and latched onto the lowest hem of his duster. “Jealous of Cait holding your friend?”

“They’re a bonded pair,” Lissy said, still petting her cat, her voice unusually quiet. “Lana found them in...during a storm a few weeks ago. Dr. Sun tested them and gave them the proper…cat vaccinations I think that’s what they’re called, like the Brotherhood did for Sunflower when we found her as a kitten in…2281, I think it was.”

“Sunflower is a good girl,” Piper said, reaching over with her free hand to tickle the purring cat in her wife’s arms. “And, Mack, if you’re wondering, the kittens have names. Better names than you or Cait would come up with.”

MacCready rolled his eyes. “Then what’s this one’s name?” He said, awkwardly and delicately unhooking the kitten’s claws from his duster and picking it up. “Looks like a Grognak to me.”

“Her name is Spooky,” Lissy corrected him though she faintly smiled. “Her brother’s name is Cookie.”

“You’re a good boy, Cookie,” Cait said, swearing when the kitten bit her, quickly setting him down on the sofa. “But also a little sh*te, aren’t you? No biting. No one bites Cait. Unless she asks them to, of course.”

MacCready, Piper, and Lissy stared at her, caught between horror, disgust, and amusem*nt. Duncan simply hummed to himself, happily watching his godmother pet the cat called Sunflower.

“On that pleasant note,” MacCready said, carefully setting Spooky in Duncan’s hands, his little boy’s eyes wide. “Have fun with your godmother and her cats. If you get hungry, I’m sure she can tell you where that is too.”

“You going to be alright if we head on down to the Dugout?” Piper sighed when her wife nodded and tightly embraced her before standing up heading towards the door. “It’ll be alright, Lis,” She said, giving her one last gentle kiss. “I’ll be back soon.”

With one last half heartedly stern whisper to his son about behaving himself, Robert Joseph MacCready turned to head for the door after Piper, only to be nearly knocked over by Cait again. He bit back the urge to swear, reminding himself she was probably at least a little high if not also a little drunk and not wanting to contradict himself in front of her. All but kicking the door back open, Cait waved at Lissy, Duncan, and the cats before impatiently tapping her feet against the base of the door. She relented when MacCready and Piper stepped through the door themselves, and slammed it shut with her foot nearly the second she could. For her part, and more than motivated to get down to the Dugout before the ominously forming clouds could start dumping rain on them, Piper Courtney Wright all but slid down the bannisters going to and from the various levels in the upper stands. She only began to walk again when she reached the top of the steps going down into the largest of Diamond City’s many markets. Her good mood not assuaged, Catherine Savannah Felgate nearly chased MacCready down to the market, still chasing him when they caught up to Piper and turned the corner towards the Dugout Inn.

Taking a few steps back when the former gunner and the former cage fighter tore past her, Piper laughed, crossing her arms with an amused smile on her face, leisurely walking behind them. Satisfied she had outrun the former gunner, Cait opened the first of the two doors to the Dugout Inn with a flourish no less than a few seconds after crossing the threshold down into the establishment’s out of doors seating. MacCready feigned annoyance with her and adjusted his hat atop his head before heading into the Dugout, unsurprised to find the second door already wide open for the night. He tipped his hat at Vadim when he approached the bar and set his gun down on the seat to his left for Piper, well aware Cait could handle herself and throw anyone who dared take her spot off. He took a look back after ordering his whiskey, smirking when Piper sauntered in, Cait only a few paces ahead of her. The writer gave him a grateful look when she sat down to his left the second he took his gun back and rested it at his feet. Cait hopped up into the seat to his right and jokingly shot finger guns at Vadim. The jovial bartender returned the same gesture before handing Piper a stout beer and beginning to mix a vampire’s kiss for the former cage fighter.

“The night is young,” Vadim hummed. “It’s going to be a fun time, no?”

“Wish it would be, Vadim, but we’ve got to…figure out how to deal with something serious,” MacCready sighed. “Figured we might as well be drinking.”

“Makes everything better,” Cait said, elbowing him in the arm. “We’re going to figure this whole bloody thing out. Those c*nts ain’t getting off easy.”

“Listen to her,” Piper added, pausing to take a few sips of her beer. “Besides, they’re both safe tonight.”

“I know, but…” MacCready fell silent. “Knowing Duncan and Annette are safe now doesn’t make it any better. He’s playing with cats, Annette is having dinner with Nora in the Taphouse, better them than us. I…can’t believe, until I found her, I was angry with her, assumed she’d been irresponsible with Duncan when she really had…she kept him hidden from them, and they nearly killed her for it. Because of me.”

“Mack, those assholes trying to kill your son and your girlfriend is not because of you,” Piper said, setting a sisterly hand to his shoulder. “They’re psychopaths, cut and dry, and get pleasure out of death, torture, pain…”

“Those sh*te heads are just a smidge less f*cked up than Kellogg,” Cait said, twirling her drink with her fingers when Vadim handed it to her. “And only because they haven’t lived as long. They ain’t going to get to be as old as that son of a bitch, either.”

“Sounds like some people who need their heads…knocked together is the expression, is it not?” Vadim smiled when Piper nodded. “Well, then they need their heads knocked together. What do you know about them? I can help, if you like.”

“You’d help me?” MacCready said, briefly surprised. “I…thanks, Vadim.”

“Of course!” He said, taking out a dishtowel with a flourish. “Now, what is happening?”

“Goes back a few years,” MacCready said, reaching into his coat pockets and pulling out his lighter and a pack of cigarettes. “I arrived in the Commonwealth with Duncan…around December of 2285, right after he first got sick. I’d been one of the gunners for a while before then but had taken off after…after his mother died. I went to Goodneighbour after hearing it was relatively safe and affordable. Daisy had just put the apartment next to hers up for rent, and…well, she took pity on me.”

“She’s a sweet lady,” Cait remarked. “Helped me drag you to Amari when I found you after –”

“Please don’t remind me,” MacCready paused to light a cigarette. “So,” He turned back to Vadim. “She took care of Duncan while I was out on jobs, having taken up with the gunners again. They were looking for sharpshooters, and the ones here had heard about me from some of their other bands farther south. It was fine for about a year, and the caps were fantastic, but I remembered way too quickly that I never fit in and couldn’t stomach leaving Duncan alone for too long. I was terrified for him.”

“As any parent would be,” Piper said. “He’s your kid, of course you worry about him.”

“Well, when I made a clean break and started flying solo, I cut a deal with Hanco*ck and was able to set up in the back of the Third Rail,” MacCready said, taking a draw on his cig. “Knew people could find me there if they needed my services, and the folks in Goodneighbour don’t tend to ask many questions but, about a year and a half ago, give or take, two of them – Winlock and Barnes – started to threaten me. I was trying to get as many caps as I could to try and buy them out, especially after Duncan got better, but..."

"Didn’t think they’d do this?” Vadim grimly surmised. “They’re wrong. Gross and wrong.”

“Putting it lightly,” MacCready said, anger shaking his voice. “I wasn’t even sure if I could buy them out, but I don’t care about that anymore. They nearly killed the woman I…and they tried to kill my son. This is war, I don’t care what it costs. I wouldn’t ask you guys to help me if I didn’t trust you, but I think…I think them and their small army of gunners need to be paid a little visit and put an end to them, before they realise what’s going on, and before they can…”

“We’re all in, Mack,” Piper said, smiling a little when Cait and Vadim both nodded. “They’re going to pay, and they sure as hell aren’t going to be expecting it.”

Chapter 36: Something Independent

Chapter Text

The Commonwealth
April the 22nd, 2289
8:07

Somehow, the factory floor was in much worse a state of disrepair than any of them had anticipated.

No stranger to sites looking difficult to comb through, the Scribe simply let out a tired sigh, still sleepy from several long nights of scouting and staking out the facility. Though loathe to admit it, the Knight was beginning to feel the same way; the aching of his limbs a testament to it. A little irritated by their surroundings, the Paladin tried not to dwell on the mess and mayhem and instead on their successful put down of a small force of robots running rampant in the lobby. It was a start, and, he reckoned, at least partially explained the state of the factory floor. These robots seem to eat each other alive. That may prove beneficial to us. Fearing complacency, the Paladin paused at the top of the first set of stairs up to the catwalk overlooking the factory floor. Seeing the Scribe was already dutifully taking notes and logging a few items of interest, he smiled a little to himself under the helm of his power armour. It faded when he noticed their odd ‘companion’ – if the machine could be called such – was attempting to investigate some of the rubble. His discomfort eased only when, upon being called to follow after the Knight, the machine obeyed immediately.

Taking another look over the factory floor below him, the Paladin frowned, a pair of heavy doors broken down and pinned down by the remains of a conveyer belt. Seeing no other way to cross deeper into the facility than through the rubble, the Paladin ordered his Knight to begin moving enough of the rubble to make it passable. It was only after a minute of hesitation did the Paladin order the machine to assist the Knight so as to speed up the progress of the rubble removal. I don’t like that machine’s insistence on being spoken to as if having a human name. If it refused to acknowledge it is a machine, then it would be an abomination plain and simple but the…slight signs of ‘sentience’ or ‘autonomy' are considerably concerning and muddy the lines. After another few minutes passed with only the screeching and scraping sounds of metal brushing and sliding against metal, the Paladin descended from the vantage point and approached his Scribe, still taking notes. When he felt assured she was doing her job as prescribed and with the same meticulous precision as always, the Paladin made for the Knight and the machine. Relieved to be no longer alone in the task with the machine, the Knight offered the Paladin a polite nod when his superior officer began to help him lift several larger pieces of rubble up and out of the way.

“The state of this place is similar to the one our Brothers and I found ArcJet Systems in shortly after our arrival in the Commonwealth,” The Knight darkly noted. “I was sceptical of our ability to retrieve what we had been sent out there to, and I hope my…trepidations about doing so here will be proven wrong as they were previously.”

“If we are not able to find this ‘radar beacon’ the automaton informed us of, then I suspect Proctor Quinlan will still be satisfied if we are able to find and bring him any useful artefacts or technical documentations,” The Paladin replied with a wary look at the machine moving rubble with him and the Knight. “I believe Scribe Haylen has already retrieved a decent bit of information he’ll be pleased to receive.”

“She has,” The Knight confirmed. “She provided me a brief overview after she finished the report on what we – and, of course, you, Paladin Danse – retrieved from the former consumer electronics gallery. It appears the corporation that owned the building may have been involved with the US Federal Government at the time of the War and just before it.”

“Fascinating,” Danse said mildly. “I’ll be curious to know if anything substantial comes out of what we retrieved. Far too often, things that look promising don’t end up panning out, so I hope luck holds up for us. We need every advantage we can get.”

“Yes, we do,” Rhys agreed with a disdainful glance at their ‘companion.’ “Should we be able to pass through here in both directions, unit? Or do we need to flatten out the incline more?”

“Moving as much of the rubble away as possible would be prudent,” Their companion replied. “It will improve the ease at which we can go to and from each side of the factory floor significantly. The probability of needing to return to the building’s entrance on this side upon our exit from the facility is high. Removal of the rubble will also prevent injury if a sudden, swift exit becomes necessary.”

“Then let’s make short work of it,” Rhys gruffly ordered. “We don’t have time to waste here.”

“Correct, Knight,” Danse said, lifting up a large part of the conveyer belt with Rhys’ support. “Our primary mission in the Commonwealth still stands.”

“Paladin?” The Scribe called out as she slowly moved towards him, the Knight, and their ‘companion,’ still logging a few items. “I believe much of the scrap here would be useful in the repairment or construction of weapons and, potentially, power armour. Should I make a note of it for a recovery and research patrol to comb through later?”

“Yes, Scribe Haylen,” Danse said with a short nod when their gazes crossed. “I suspect there are at least a handful of useful artefacts to be harvested here. Mark this place for sweep and retrieve.”

“Understood,” Haylen dutifully replied. “Thank you, sir.”

Returning to her noting and logging, the Scribe only paused when she noticed, in her periphery, a small but passable space was nearly emerged from the rubble. She raised an eyebrow upon seeing their strange, robotic ‘companion’ seemed to have been making short work of it with the assistance of the Paladin and the Knight. I didn’t think this machine would be all that useful beyond offering us potential leads to the so called Mechanist. Keeping it around may be worthwhile after all. Setting down her bags for a moment to ensure they remained organised as she logged and collected a few more items on the factory floor, the Scribe smiled when she saw the pleased look on the faces of the Paladin and the Knight upon, finally, having moved enough of the rubble out of the way to safely pass through and into the other half of the factory floor. The second she was finished with her work, she slung her bags back over her shoulders and started towards the other half of the factory floor to join the Paladin and the Knight. A hint of unease prodded at her when she passed by their robotic ‘companion,’ but she quickly pushed it aside. It being now clear both sides of the factory floor were in an equal state of disrepair, the Scribe began up a set of stairs to the second level of the factory, only a few feet behind the Paladin and the Knight, and drew her gun upon hearing the movement of, what she was sure to be, a rather large robot coming from above.

Just as suspicious of the noise as the Scribe, the Paladin and the Knight moved quickly towards it upon crossing the threshold into the second level of the factory. For a moment, they paused when they saw nothing but damaged and destroyed robots around them, the same as down below. It was only when they rounded a corner and grew closer to a partially open door into an apparent storage room they were able to identify the source of the noise. When they did, they were dumbstruck. Trapped by the door and struggling to get itself unstuck was a very large robot on tracked wheels, one of its perpetually bent mechanical arms pinning it against the doorframe, the other half falling off. The closer they got to it, the more unsettled they felt until, finally, facing it directly, they were able to see its full construction. The Knight, against his will, gagged at the sight. Similarly, though a little more restrained, the Paladin let out a disgusted gasp, aggressively waving the Scribe over to where he and the Knight were already stood. Upon reaching them, she grimaced at the sight of that had caught their attention. By its sturdy construction alone, it was evidently pre-War but the grotesque sight of a human brain with a large metal eye between its lobes and suspended in the domed top of the robot was the most disquieting. Seeing a flashing beacon just behind the domed ‘head,’ the Paladin acted quickly and shot through the dome. It quickly secreted the suspension fluid, and the Paladin and the Knight pushed the robot through the door, entering the room. The Knight then shot through the robot a few times for good measure, and, then, stepped aside to let the Scribe inspect the still blinking beacon.

“Think this is what we’re looking for,” She observed, only pausing to look up upon hearing the clanging and clunky sounds of a robot coming near. She let out a sigh of relief when she saw it was only their ‘companion.’ “Radar beacon?”

“Yes,” Their robotic companion said when the Paladin and the Knight granted it passage over to where the Scribe was working. “As I told you I posited on the way here, this must be what the Mechanist’s robots are commanded by. I lament my failure to foresee this beyond an educated guess but at least we now have a potential lead towards the Mechanist, by luck or not.”

The Paladin raised an eyebrow. “How so?”

“I suspect a beacon such as this is how the Mechanist was keeping track of this robot here,” Their companion explained. “As the next logical step, I suggest you install this beacon on me so we can use it to our advantage.”

“We will consider doing so. Scribe Haylen, please secure that beacon for transport,” The Paladin said before turning back to their robotic companion. “Have you ever seen a robot such as this before, unit?”

“No, but I believe this machine matches with a type of robot my old caravan uncovered records of while we were scavenging military facilities,” Their companion said. “According to my data banks, it’s called the ‘robobrain.’ It was considered one of the most technologically superior robots ever constructed, however no models ever reached full production status.”

“Fascinating,” The Paladin said mildly. “Well. It appears we have quite a bit of disassembling and logging to do. The sooner we do that, the sooner we can be out of here.”

“Yes, sir,” The Knight said with a polite nod. “We shall do so with haste.”

Railroad Headquarters
April the 27th, 2289
18:33

“Nearly every time we’ve spotted a Courser, death and destruction have followed. This is going to be the first time we’ve ever gone after one. Very rarely, you’ll meet a Courser like Glory, who turned her back on the Institute and, even of former Coursers, she’s truly unique.”

Whether Desdemona noticed or not while she kept speaking, the more she spoke of the Institute’s best trackers and, in particular, Glory, the more difficult Nora Jacqueline Norwich found it to bite her tongue. Best she could, she tried to tell herself it was unreasonable to get annoyed, and unproductive. The faces Cait made, sat beside her, she told herself, did more than enough for the both of them. Keep pretending you’re in the courtroom, and you’re listening to a pushy defence attorney. Sooner or later, they won’t be able to keep dancing around the questions and will get back to business. Though the time away from them feels nicer by the minute… Her eyes narrowed when she saw Deacon saunter into the main room of the crypt, a bit of sway to his steps as he walked down the stairs. An anxious young man in ratty clothes shut and locked the door behind them. Yawning and loosely draping one arm over Nora’s shoulders, Cait half leaned onto the former lawyer who, for a few seconds, faintly smiled and did not push her away. It was seeing the slightly smug glint in Glory’s eyes, however, that finally snapped the former lawyer’s ever thinning patience.

“You know,” Nora said, her eyes narrowing. “You could do with being a little less self congratulatory about having left the Institute and be a little more active in getting me what I need to get into the Institute. Unless you’d like to come with, of course.”

“Not a chance in hell,” Glory hissed. “I left those bastards for a reason, and I will never go back or risk causing another synth to have to be –”

“You don’t have to worry about that, Glory,” Desdemona calmly said, briefly resting a hand on the woman’s shoulders. “Many synths owe you their lives, a few other former Coursers included.”

Nora frowned. “If so very few Coursers leave, how many of them have you ever come across trying to do so?”

Desdemona considered that. “We had one last January. She’s since been safely escorted out of the Commonwealth and gone southwest towards the Mojave. A few years before that, we had a pair of them that chose to forgo the mind wipe – they left the Institute because they had fallen in love with each other – and were safely escorted by our agents south towards a place called ‘Myrtle’s Beach.’”

“Most of the synths we help – whether they go through the Memory Den or not – head south,” Deacon added, winking at Carrington when he elbowed past him to get something out of a refrigerator. “A lot of them stay in the former Capital for a while, but the ones who forgo the mind wipes tend to go farther south than there or farther west. We’ve been sending a lot more of them out west recently.”

“Because of the Brotherhood?” Nora surmised. “Aren’t there other Brotherhood troops out west?”

“Yes, but, because they’re not looking for nor would they have the means to recognise a synth, they’re less of a threat to them and us,” Desdemona said, pausing a few seconds in thought. “The division of the Brotherhood in the Commonwealth – and on the majority of the East Coast – are unfortunately a serious threat to the lives of any escaped synths they come across. I would be more worried about an escaped synth being intercepted by them than by the Institute.”

“Their fate is nearly the same,” Glory said, anger rising in her again. “At least the Brotherhood have the decency to put an end to their misery rather than take away everything that makes someone who they are and put them back to either hunting other synths or doing the work the Institute doesn’t want to.”

“Perhaps but…” Desdemona shook her head. “The approach we have to take towards the Institute and the Brotherhood are the same. The Institute and the Brotherhood Of Steel are our enemies, and there’s no possibility of peace.”

“Lovely,” Cait said wryly. “Going to keep telling us about them Coursers?”

“Charmingly to the point,” Deacon said, coming towards them, a Nuka Cola now in hand. “But, sh*t, come to think of it, my last encounter with a Courser working for the Institute was…probably three or four years ago and it was nasty. Although one of the best ways to tell whether or not a Courser might still be with the Institute is how they talk. The ones trying to leave tend to stutter and have a hard time processing things around them. The ones still with them, though? Damn.”

“He’s not wrong,” Desdemona said, sending him a pointed look when he nearly exploded his drink open after twirling it in his hands. “A Courser working for the Institute will, though their voices are, like any person’s, unique, speak in almost the same cadence and tone as a first or second generation synth.”

Nora raised an eyebrow. “Why?”

“It’s a…we all talked that way,” Glory said, her voice quieting. “In the Institute, we always…no synth – not the ones like us, the…human like ones – naturally talks the way Coursers do. It’s something we learn during training. To view synths who escape as being ashamed of being a synth and delusional about what it makes them. Talking robotically makes it painfully clear what we are…and it was something of a source of pride because we were the best. The smartest, fastest...and we had also proven it.”

“It also intimidates the people of the Commonwealth,” Desdemona said, running her hands through her hair. “Most people never have and never will come into contact with one, but those who do and survive typically live the rest of their lives terrified of the Institute, even more so than most people already do.”

“Looked the monster under the bed right in the eyes,” Cait scoffed. “They’re still just synths. Might give people the creeps but a few shots from me shotgun and that fear will be long gone.”

Glory scowled at her. “You’re underestimating them. If you take that attitude towards this, you’re going to get yourself killed.”

“Seeing as just about everything in me life has tried to put me in the ground and failed, I’d like to see one try,” Cait said, letting Nora go and standing up. “I’ve looked death in the face plenty of times, and not always for me self.”

“Going after a Courser is a lot bigger than any fights you’ve gotten in before, or won at the Combat Zone,” Deacon cautioned her. “You know those dumb, laser shooting robots from before the War that gunners like? The ‘assaultrons?’ Coursers make them look weak.”

“Might as well use them as practise dummies, then,” Cait replied, cracking her knuckles. “Kellogg was a pretty good start too, don’t you think?”

“Certainly got what he deserved,” Deacon half heartedly agreed, sitting down at the centre table with Nora, Desdemona, and Glory. “Can’t believe it took us so damn long to learn his name. He’d been public enemy number one for us for years until we learnt his name by accident. All we knew for a long time was an elusive Institute agent who wasn’t a Courser was really good at ruining things for us. Wouldn’t be shocked if it turned out he was the one who came up with the ambush at Switchboard.”

“Given how long the Institute kept him alive and what I know they used him for, I’d believe it,” Nora said, crossing her arms with a dark edge to her voice. “He was barely even human.”

“That’s not what made him a monster,” Glory defiantly replied. “What he –”

“Seeing as you’re supposed to stay the hell out of my way when all of you stop playing games with me,” Nora briefly raised a hand to silence her, narrowly glancing at Desdemona. “And that you aren’t human, I think I’m a better judge of the human condition than you.”

“I know what I’m talking about,” Glory said coldly. “He was a monster because he got pleasure out of hurting other people – human and synth. What he was or what kept him alive isn’t what made him that way. He already was a monster, and that comes from within.”

“And I know what I saw,” Nora said, trying to keep her voice steady and twining her hands in and out of each other. “But I’m tired of arguing with you,” She turned to Desdemona. “You said your…tinkerer made progress on identifying the ‘Courser signal’ on the EM spectrum?”

“Yes,” Desdemona said, whispering something to Glory that, to the former lawyer’s surprise, got her to leave the room, heading towards the very back of the crypt before disappearing around a corner. “Tom! Could you come here, please?”

“Right on it, Des!” The eccentric inventor said, pulling up the myriad of contraptions on his headgear. “Just finished a new programme for analysing Courser chips last night, fixed from what mistakes we made last time.”

Nora frowned. “How likely is it the analysis will fail and we’ll have to go after another Courser after we nab the first one?”

“Only around thirty two percent, now,” Tom reassuringly replied. “But that number should be lower once you find and kill it, the specifics of which I’ve got just about figured out.”

“Alright,” Nora said warily. “Why has it taken you so long to do so? I thought making a radio interceptor wouldn’t take very long.”

“It wasn’t the making of the radio interceptor that took me a while, just adapted it from a few pre-War radios we’ve collected over the years. It was making the additional devices to scan the rest of the EM spectrum in tandem with the radio, because radio wavelengths are at the bottom of the spectrum,” Tom said, sitting down beside Desdemona in place of Glory. “I also needed to identify the constant variable that is the carrier signal on all my instruments instead of the general, brief interference from what we’re guessing to be the Institute popping their little hunters out of the ground like mole rats.”

Cait snickered. “If Coursers were as abundant as mole rats, think we’d have killed several by now.”

“Or killed us,” Tom said, looking unsettled at the notion. “So, I wasn’t sure if it was going to pan out but that Institute scientist you found was right about their ‘Relay’ causing interference all the way across the EM – electromagnetic – spectrum. Pinpointing the spot on the spectrum that lingers the longest and occurs consistently enough to most likely be a Courser was difficult, because I had to do additional research and work to account for the entire spectrum rather than just the radio level.”

“But you’ve managed to do so now?” Nora pressed. “Please tell me you have.”

“I think so. The hardest part in all of it was differentiating between the high spectrum interference and low spectrum interference. I’d been betting the main signal would be somewhere in the middle, anywhere between infrared and visible blue light,” Tom explained. “I hadn’t taken readings for anything higher on the spectrum than ultraviolet light in ages, and I wanted to make sure the Institute weren’t messing with us in the trenches. Turned out, after a lot of checking, the lingering signal – the one that indicates a Courser – is on the ELF end, better known as the ‘extremely low frequency’ end.”

Nora raised an eyebrow. “What does that mean in practical terms? For hunting down a Courser, that is.”

“It means you’re going to need to identify and track one using a specialised device capable of maintaining a scan of that part of the spectrum,” Tom said, sighing when Cait groaned. “I think I’m almost done with that. It’ll be in your hands and ready to go with you, Deacon and – uh – Glory, now we've convinced her it's necessary, to hunt one down the second it’s reliably operational. Working with frequencies so low has been difficult. It might not sound like a lot, but the space between frequencies at three to thirty hertz is massive.”

“Massive?” Cait said, eyeing him strangely. “How big are we talking?”

“Those frequencies correspond with wavelengths of a hundred thousand to ten thousand kilometres,” Tom told her, trying to mask his excitement in discussing the topic. “It took over a hundred years, leading up to the War, for the pre-War scientists to be able to scale down the size of a machine able to catch the transmissions. But, damn, they were motivated to make communicating with their submarines easier, and these were one of the few options capable of penetrating seawater.”

“Fascinating as that is, how are we supposed to follow a signal so low?” Nora sceptically asked. “Getting frequencies so low up to audio frequency ranges would be no easy task.”

“By raising the pitch of the signal after identification,” Tom said. “I know it all sounds like a lot, but it’ll make sense once I can give you a hand using it the first time. Don’t worry, you’ll be out there hunting a Courser soon and this thing is going to be how you track it.”

“I f*cking hope so,” Nora muttered to Cait under her breath. “Because I’m not in the mood to play games with this any longer.”

The Commonwealth
May the 1st, 2289
11:42

After just shy of fifty years since falling into disrepair and out of the hands of the Minutemen, finding the Castle and, most surprisingly, the old radio transmitter station in the centre of the courtyard in even passable condition was quite the shock, albeit a good one.

The same could also be said when, after a few seconds of shock, they realised the place was almost completely clear of infestations of wildlife despite being so close to the water.

Pleased but still a bit wary, the General of the Minutemen entered the Castle’s courtyard first, his gun drawn in case it became necessary to open fire. Short on his heels were his right hand man, detective Nicholas Julius Valentine, Eleanor Marie Perkins, Sturges Presley, and a small troop of Minutemen who quickly began to work on analysing the scene. The carcasses of a few mirelurks were scattered about, and a few clutches of their eggs were smashed to bits, yet none of the pesky crustaceans in sight were alive. The first across the courtyard and to the water, Sturges Presley stopped short, stunned to see only a few dead mirelurks washed up on the shore, and what looked to be a rather large one nearly sunk, barely sticking up and out of the water. Letting out a sigh with his hands resting on the hefty tool belt on his hips, the meticulously skilled mechanic lingered and watched for a minute, something about the scene feeling wrong. Still, when it became clear it was safe to do so, he turned back towards the courtyard, walking over to join Preston, Derek, and Nick at the centre by the surprisingly intact old radio transmission station. Looking over it at a glance, his eyebrows raised in disbelief at its condition, a sentiment, based on the looks on their faces, shared by his companions.

“You know, for a site we’ve only been able to look at from afar for nearly fifty years, it’s in pretty damn good shape,” Sturges said, rolling his shoulders back. “Think it’s crazy it was a little less than two years ago we were trying to get back on our feet in Sanctuary, marking the Castle as an aspirational place to one day reclaim.”

“The shape it’s in is remarkable,” Nick said with a slight frown. “From the outside, anyways. I’m sure your men sweeping and clearing the bastions, tunnels, and walls will find a heck of a lot needing fixed, but the fact there’s not much resistance here? It’s a goddamn miracle.”

“Or a warning sign,” Derek cautiously said. “I told our men to make sure, as they inspect and sweep the grounds, to check for anything that could potentially be a bug or tracker. Things being this clean here has me worried. Our scouts indicated it being in a decent state to be relatively recent, and this is even better than what we thought it would be. I’m concerned the Brotherhood might be up to something here. Unfortunately, I can’t put anything past them at this point.”

“Never thought I’d feel sorry for the Institute, but I agree,” Nick said darkly. “Ellie’s got her eyes peeled, probably going to find something during the search. She’s got hawk eyes…but if anyone could fool them, it would be the Brotherhood or the Institute, though I think we all know who’d be interested in this place, and sure as hell ain’t the Institute.”

“Wouldn’t have anything to gain from it,” Sturges agreed, kneeling down to continue his inspection of the transmission system. “The tech here is far from anything the Institute would be interested in. They’d probably call it primitive, and I don’t think they’re interested in historical site preservation.”

“Agreed though, all things considered, if most of our issues are structural and defencive and not a result of the site being overrun, that’s good news for us,” Preston said with a small smile. “I never thought I’d see the day I’d be standing here, let alone as the General of the Minutemen, but I couldn’t be happier about it.”

“We’ll have to fix up the ballistic defences and artillery, as well as clean the place up, too, but it really is in pretty damn good shape,” Sturges said. “We’ll need to keep our eyes wide open with the local wildlife, though. Them mirelurks don’t go away too easy, and, even if this decent sized colony has been exterminated for now, they tend to come back if they ain’t kept away.”

“Some of the grossest creatures in the Commonwealth,” Nick said with a slight grimace. “I know a lot of people who won’t go too near the water because of them, and I can’t say I blame them for it. Pretty sure even Natalie Wright of all people is cautious of them.”

“Way Piper tells it, that’s because Pete Pembroke once chased her down the streets of the city with a dead mirelurk hatchling,” Derek chuckled, dusting off his glasses on the sleeve of his coat. “Ada is the only one of my kids that doesn’t go out of her way to avoid them. I think she still aspires to be like Harkness. Hads and I suspect he probably let her play with his gun a few times without our permission when she was six or seven, albeit under strict supervision.”

“Ada is headstrong, no doubt about it,” Preston said, walking around to the other side of the radio transmitter. “Heard her complaining Lissy and Piper’s friend – MacCready – is apparently no fun anymore. I’m almost scared to know what that means.”

“By accident, while playing with firecrackers, Lissy, May, RJ, and Lucy – RJ’s then girlfriend and his son’s mother – set Arthur Maxson’s hair on fire. They were fifteen, Lucy was sixteen, and May, who really should have known better, was seventeen,” Derek told him, unable to mask his amusem*nt. “Arthur was thirteen, and Hads made them bake him an apology cake. They wrote ‘sorry we set you on fire’ on it. So, really, anything less is probably a let down to Ada.”

“They set the current leader of the Brotherhood’s hair on fire?” Nick laughed. “Certainly makes me feel better about the fact the man’s a lunatic.”

Derek sighed. “Arthur has had people whispering in his ears, telling him who he’s supposed to be since he was a child. I can’t fully blame him for the man he’s become. I was dismayed to learn, despite him having married and, by all accounts, become a father himself, he personally ordered Madison and Jacqueline’s kidnapping. I couldn’t be more disappointed, I really couldn’t.”

“Could have sworn I heard you apologising on their behalf to MacCready’s girl,” Sturges said, standing up. “Things look to be in working order, though it beats me as to how,” He told Preston before turning back to the former Knight Captain. “What was that all about?”

“Seeing as it’s rather personal, I’ll keep it brief, but, firstly, with respect to RJ…” Derek shook his head. “He’s a good kid, and losing Lucy, by all accounts, was devastating to him, especially because of their having a son together. Between her death, being a parent, and finding someone like Annette who, far as I can see, loves him and is stepping up to be there for his son, he’s less impulsive than he used to be, and I truly think she’s part of that.”

“You and Hadley definitely seem to see him like he’s your own son,” Preston smiled. “It’s admirable.”

“He might as well be. As for Annette, God if I don’t feel terrible for her and for what the Brotherhood put her through,” He paused, anger whispering at the edge of his voice. “As I was deployed for the vast majority of the last two years of the war with the Enclave and she was, as I understand it now, confined to the Citadel as one of Cade’s civilian medical students, I’m not surprised I never met her, nor am I surprised my wife and children never met her. They were rarely at the Citadel, and, when they were, it would have been even rarer they would be in the medical wing. That said…”

Nick frowned. “Guessing this is one of those Brotherhood stories that ain’t good.”

“And you’d be right,” Derek replied, struggling to maintain his composure. “As I’ve said before, one of their leaders – Proctor Keith Teagan – and I have never liked each other; he always thought I’m too stiff and, in his words, painfully polite and I’ve always thought he’s self important and a poor, inattentive husband to his wife and, equally, a poor, inattentive father to his children. Learning Annette is the girl Cade asked me to defend while keeping her identity anonymous, at the time – privacy of course – because Keith raped her thrice…it infuriated me then and it infuriates me even more now I’ve met the girl he harmed.”

“Holy hell,” Sturges turned towards him, setting down a few of the tools he had pulled out to work on the transmitter. “That’s vile.”

“It truly is,” Derek solemnly agreed. “I apologised to her for it on behalf of the Brotherhood…but it will never be enough. What he did to her is something indelibly painful, and, learning her father was the brilliant scientist Madison worked with on the water purification project…she’s been through more tragedy than any one person deserves. I wasn’t there, but when Madison told Hadley, with whom she had been friends for a long time, what happened to him, she broke down. I’d never known Madison as anything but strong and impervious but that – his murder – absolutely broke her.”

Preston took off his hat, bowing his head and holding it against his chest.

“From what you’ve told us, over the years, the war against the Enclave was brutal. I can only imagine.”

“He was murdered in cold blood, seemingly for nothing but show by one of the Enclave’s highest military leaders. Knowing that – as well as the sacrifice of Sentinel Lyons – is one of many reasons why their defeat has never been truly satisfying,” Derek paused, taking a step back when Sturges flipped the switch of the transmitter and static began coming through. “That’s a good sign, isn’t it? Are you able to tune the signal?”

“Working on it,” Sturges happily replied, beginning to whistle to himself. “Don’t know if anyone has taken up the band Radio Freedom used to be broadcast on, so it might take a good long while before we can get that up and running. Still, I think we should be able to –”

Dropping his tools, he took a step back, covering his ears when the static shifted to a loud, emergency broadcast tone. Just as startled, Preston dropped his hat and all but leapt back, Derek drew his shotgun, and Nick blinked rapidly, taken aback by the tone – pre-War, he was sure – in part due to how different it was from the nuclear siren.

“This is an emergency broadcast signal from Vault 88,” The voice harshly jumped out of the far too loud speakers. “Authentication codeword IMPISH. Vault 88 emergency classification: unspecified integrity breach warning. Any available Vault-Tec personnel are required to respond under Emergency Protocol VT-76 to Vault 88, location, Quincy, specification, quarries. This signal will repeat. Vault-Tec Pip-Boy signals identified.”

“f*cker!” Sturges exclaimed, having regained himself enough to go and turn down the volume and change the channel. “sh*t, if that ain’t…”

“Vault-Tec put a Vault under Quincy Quarries?” Preston looked between him, Nick, and Derek, his brow furrowed in confusion. “What the hell?”

“Will wonders never cease,” Nick said dryly. “Vault-Tec put a Vault in the subway and a quarry? They were running out of ideas, weren’t they?”

“I’m actually getting a notification on my Pip-Boy’s map. Damn,” Sturges let out a low whistle. “This looks pretty legitimate. You getting one on yours too, Derek?”

"I am," Derek said, glancing to him. "And I have to agree."

Preston considered that. “You think anyone’s still down there?”

“Maybe,” Sturges shrugged, letting out an excited war whoop when he latched the transmitter onto broadcasting from Diamond City radio. “If you all can keep things dandy here, I kind of want to go check it out.”

“You going to be alright on your own?” Preston said, sweeping up his hat from where he had dropped it and setting it back on his head. “Alright, then,” He shook Sturges’ hand when the well experienced handyman nodded. “Good luck. Be careful and avoid Quincy proper. Last thing I want is to lose a man like you, Sturges.”

“Don’t worry,” He confidently replied. “I’ve got this. Keep working with the transmitter, and I’ll hopefully be able to send you an update from the place itself. If nothing else, it can’t hurt to potentially find a good cache of supplies, especially with us rebuilding the Castle.”

The Institute
May the 4th, 2289
12:29

“No need to beat them, they’ve done nothing wrong. All you need to do is maintain a firm and steady grip while working with it.”

Seeing Alice Thompson lighten up with the soldering iron, Jacqueline Rose Spencer found herself laughing a little, happier than she had been ready to say when, to her surprise, the Director himself had offered to let her coach her foster brother’s team in their work for the end of term ‘robot wars.’ It was almost mind boggling, when she thought about it, that, after this term ended for the brief summer holiday, he would be off to fourth grade, and would turn ten in October. He was only six when we met. It’s so strange how time flies! And Lily is almost one! I think she’s more hyper and runs around even more than he does. Taking a small step back to observe the small group she was coaching, Jacqueline smiled. The Thompson twins, Alice and Julia, were giggling a little as they worked with Quentin, who was in better spirits than he had been in a long time. Natasha Karlin seemed to be in a good mood, too, in contrast to her usually shy and uneasy demeanour, lending her to seeming almost embarrassed by her older sister, a rising star in the SRB’s psychiatry training, and scared of underperforming with her father being the second in command of the Bioscience Division. Her being in at least decent spirits was a good sign, too, and, reminding herself not to let slip she knew, of the boy beside her, his brother had finally worked up the courage to ask Rosalind out on a date, while Todd Volkert’s almost infectious excitement was nearly impossible to top.

It was also, she realised, the first time in several years since she had done anything similar to what she had when she had been their age, albeit on the surface and, more often than not, with questionable scientific muster behind their 'experiments.'

"The laser eye is what’s going to make us win,” Alice told the others with a mischievous grin. “They aren’t going to see it coming until our robot starts melting through their robot’s brains.”

Natasha shuddered. “I read about robots like these with organic brains in them once. Apparently some scientists before the War tried it and it didn’t go very well.”

“Yuck,” Julia said, scrunching up her face. “Have we decided what we’re going to call the robot yet? I want to call it the Mobile Omnidirectional Neutralisation and Termination Eradicator, like they called their fighting robot on that show daddy likes to watch about those pre-War scientists getting into mayhem at the old California Institute Of Technology.”

“That’s a mouthful,” Quentin said, rolling his eyes. “Also why name it after something from a TV show? We can come up with something better.”

“How about Your Doom?” Natasha half jokingly said, taking a look over the blueprint design the five of them had, after much bickering, decided upon. “Won’t give away what it’s capable of and can make them think twice about talking smack about us.”

“Talking sh*t, you mean,” Alice said, sticking her tongue out at her. “Jacq’s cool.”

“Just please don’t say anything like that to Dr. Binet,” Jacqueline said, though she smiled. “Or your parents. I don’t want them to think I’m a bad influence on you.”

“You make Quentin behave,” Todd snickered. “Didn’t think that was possible.”

“Watch it,” Quentin told him, waving a wrench in front of the other boy’s face. “I might throw something at you.”

“At least you weren’t the one getting too aggressive with the soldering iron,” Todd said, causing Alice to let out a yelp in surprise when he elbowed her. “You know, I think it’s looking good, though.”

“Yeah, because we’ve been working on this for almost a month,” Julia reminded him. “Dr. Watson only recently approved our design. Said the first ones were too ‘childish.’”

“Dr. Watson thinks just about everything is too childish. Glad to see other people agree.”

Turning on her heel, Jacqueline rolled her eyes when Liam Binet and Brenden Volkert stepped into the classroom laboratory.

“Shouldn’t you two be working on something?”

“Wanted to see how my little brother is doing,” Brenden said, strong arming Todd into a hug and ruffling his hair. “You staying on task, little man?”

“Should be asking you that,” Todd teased when he let him go, setting his hands to his hips. “Or are you slipping away from doing your work to go be a clueless flirt with Rosalind? I hope you aren’t going to try and sing to her. Hearing your voice crack while trying to practise the other night might have scarred me for life.”

Jacqueline laughed. “Are you making that up?”

“He’s not,” Brenden said, half seriously swatting at his little brother’s arm. “I…apparently do not have the voice of an angel.”

“You don’t,” Liam rolled his eyes. “I have perfect pitch, and even I wouldn’t try whatever it was you thought you were doing.”

“I’ve been reading a lot about opera, lately,” Brenden almost sheepishly replied. “I thought it might fascinate her, especially if I could carry a tune of it. She’s,” He began, trying again. “Like a rose that’s forever in bloom!”

“Are you trying to kill us?” Julia exclaimed, covering her ears until he stopped. “You sound like the first and second generation synths when they’re malfunctioning.”

“Remember when one of the first generation synths kept running into a wall the other week?” Natasha snickered. “It kept repeating ‘stop resisting’ and I couldn’t help but start laughing. Dr. Zimmer didn’t approve when she caught me.”

“Caught us,” Todd muttered. “You, me, and Mandy Ayo all got told off for it. Feel the worst for Mandy, though. Her dad probably let her have it. He’s been all pissy since getting demoted.”

“Which means everyone else has been in a much better mood,” Liam joked. “Although, in all seriousness, I know my dad is glad Father put Justin in his place. He’s the Institute’s biggest bully.”

“Still can’t believe the Brotherhood killed Dr. Zimmer,” Brenden said, though he thought better of it when Jacqueline startled. “Sorry. Know what happened to you and Dr. Li is still…pretty recent.”

Jacqueline sighed. “Are you here to help or just to chat?”

“To pester me,” Todd said, sending his brother a dark look. “We’re working here, Brenden. Can you and Liam go find someone else to annoy?”

“If you answer us one question,” Liam said, turning and smiling at Quentin. “Seems the five of you have a…precision, CNC, laser optic weapon planned for this thing.”

“We do,” Quentin replied with a grin. “Don’t mess with science. We have lasers.”

“Now, scat so they can work,” Jacqueline said, opening the door for them from her tablet. “Don’t pass any information on to the enemy! There’s lots of other teams they’ll have to beat if they want to win!”

“Teams of other nine and eight year olds,” Brenden said with a smirk. “But message received. Good luck wrangling them.”

Jacqueline rolled her eyes while seeing them out, shutting the door again before setting down her tablet to get back to supervising. Bossy as ever, Alice was all but barking orders at her sister and Todd, both of whom, surprisingly, listened, albeit sharing dark, mutinous looks every so often. Wonder if Janey and Lip ever made those faces about me. Much less subservient, Natasha fixed up her ponytail and went over to inspect their robot so far, then starting to test if its wheels were properly attached and aligned. Satisfied they were, she walked back over to where she had been working with Quentin in constructing their robot’s laser eye. Laughing a little when she realised the design they had settled on was similar to that of the pre-War ‘assaultron,’ Jacqueline stepped over to see how they were doing. A little to her surprise, Quentin barely noticed her at first, almost completely focused on what he was doing and, still, working surprisingly well with Natasha. When he glanced up and saw her watching, he got a mischievous look in his eyes before setting down the halfway constructed laser to pull out a small, harmless one from the pocket of his jeans, pointing it at her feet and almost absentmindedly twirling it.

“Lily likes crawling and running after these,” Quentin said with a shrug. “After we finish making this robot, I’m thinking I’ll see if we can make a scaled down version of those Corvega cars they had before the War. Just with a normal battery and not a small fusion reactor as its power source.”

“If you start driving your baby sister around the Institute, I want to see it,” Alice told him, coming over to them with her hands on her hips. “And you know cats like to chase after lasers too.”

Quentin smirked and waved it at her for a minute before clicking it off and dropping it back into his pocket.

“Finally convince your parents to let you have a cat?” He teased. “Or at least a synth cat?”

“Dr. Holdren lets me and Julia play with synth cats sometimes, now,” She said, crossing her arms. “He says it’s good for observing their socialisation in comparison to real cats.”

“The Synth Zoological Initiative is crazy, sometimes. Cool, but crazy. I mean, look at the synth gorillas. Those are crazy,” Natasha remarked. “Dad says Dr. Holdren is a little too proud of its success. Although he doesn’t like him very much.”

Jacqueline raised an eyebrow. “Really? Dr. Holdren’s always nice, and super funny, too.”

“Dad thinks he’s too proud of his own position,” Natasha said, looking annoyed. “Vicki and I are tired of hearing about it. I don’t think he’s going to convince anyone to let him replace Dr. Holdren either, no matter how badly he wants it.”

“To be fair, Dr. Holdren can be really lenient...or just absentminded,” Todd half heartedly said. “I mean, Quentin was able to sneak in and inject the gorillas with stimulants.”

“Yeah, I did,” Quentin winked. “And, sometimes, I hide my dad’s work notes just to mess with him. It drives him crazy!”

Jacqueline affectionately ruffled his hair. “Don’t let him find that out.”

“I won’t,” Quentin innocently replied, though, when Natasha and Todd went back to work he lowered his voice and looked more serious. “This is fun, Jacq,” He said quietly. “I think this…hands and hands thing is the kind of science I like. I think you were right. I’m not stupid.”

“You’re far from stupid,” Jacqueline smiled when he briefly hugged her. “And I’m glad you’re finally starting to see it.”

The Commonwealth
May the 9th, 2289
15:11

“This where they’re hiding out?’

“Just up on the old interstate overpass. See that lift? We’re going to have to take it up.”

Rarely possible to faze, it took only a few seconds of looking up at the overpass and how much higher up it was from where the lift was on the ground for Vadim Bobrov to feel sick to his stomach. Heights. One of the few things capable of making him deeply uneasy, the typically cheerful bar owner tried not to dwell on it, keeping pace with his companions. A tinge of excited anticipation briefly sent away his nerves when he remembered why they were there. Revenge. It was something, he was starting to believe, Robert MacCready, Piper Wright, and Cait Felgate were quite skilled at. He paused, hesitating a moment when they reached the lift but soon stepped on, no more than a step behind Piper. The four of them aboard, Cait jabbed the button to send it up with her elbow, taking a few seconds to watch the ground slowly become farther and farther away. Trying not to dwell on his nerves, Vadim drew and ensured his M16 was loaded. When they reached the top and the lift ceased its ascent, he moved off as quickly as he could and on to the roadway; the farther from the edge, the better. Her spirits undampened, Cait almost flippantly readied the AR-18 she ‘borrowed’ from Rowdy, and only slowed down when she saw Piper and MacCready waving at her to fall back, not quite ready to declare their presence.

The noise of shouts and laughter up ahead, they moved slowly forward and, when an encampment came into sight on the horizon, they slipped behind one of the many large, steel support beams. Less than thrilled to see the sheer number of gunners awaiting them, Vadim squared his shoulders and steadied his hands around his gun, taking a step back when Piper began hissing in his, Cait, and MacCready’s ears to be careful, sure she had spotted an assaultron in idle up ahead. Unwilling to take chances, MacCready drew his sniper rifle, pausing when he caught the mechanical menace in his sights. The central processing hardware of an assaultron is most heavily concentrated in the neck. Shoot the head off, and the robot should go down with it. Not unlike shooting a person in the neck, come to think of it. Only difference is the ‘artery’ of the assaultron is encased in metal. Hoping it was the only one his former employers had with them, MacCready locked the upper neck, where the robot was weaker, in on his sights. Piper breathed a temporary sigh of relief when she saw what he was doing, telling herself as much as him that the rest of the resistance they would encounter would be human. Ready and providing him cover, Vadim stepped in line with MacCready, aiming for the assaultron too.

Sure he wouldn’t miss, he fired.

One, two, three.

One, two, three.

In quick succession, Vadim fired on the assaultron too and, to their relief, the robot began breaking apart the second their bullets hit it. Another. Then another. When the robot was wrecked, completely done for, the two men briefly glanced to each other, then at Piper and Cait.

Their cover completely blown, they ran towards the shouting, disoriented gunners.

More than happy to give her friend’s AR-18 a good shake, Cait only lingered behind MacCready, Vadim, and Piper to give herself a (less than healthy) dose of psycho before opening fire on the first gunners she saw. Much more wary than her friend, Piper snuck behind an old, rusted through truck. She caught a few gunners unaware, keeping herself hidden and able to shoot as long as possible. Albeit slightly less cautious, Vadim wasted no time in shooting down as many of the encampment’s defences as possible; aim focused on turrets and visibly weak structures, and his mind lightly eased by the confirmation that, in fact, there had been only one assaultron unit in the gunners’ arsenal at the site. MacCready weaved in and out of Cait and Vadim the closer the three of them got to the heart of the encampment, his gaze hardening in anger and resolve when he saw one of the two men they had come to kill. Looking almost bored and watching the fight, Vincent Winlock kicked his legs up on the coffee table beside him, toying with his gun in his hands and barking orders at his men. It was only when MacCready came into arms reach of him the notorious gunner stood up, ensuring his gun was loaded and laughing when the twenty four year old darted towards him, drawing his smaller handgun.

In a matter of a few seconds, Winlock distracted by his own amusem*nt, MacCready managed to kick the gun out of his hands and pistol whipped him before forcefully attempting to restrain him with one arm, pointing the gun square at the man’s temples, his other arm shaking with the weapon in hand.

“Entertaining, watching you and your dumb friends waltz up to us,” Winlock said, the amused and lighthearted tone departing him when he felt MacCready’s handgun press into his skin. “Bold of you to show your face around here.”

“I don’t give a damn whether or not it’s ‘bold,’” MacCready snapped, his fingers wrapping around the trigger before firing and kicking the man now bleeding from the head to the ground, his blood splattered on his old leather jacket and jeans. “No one tries to lay a hand to my son and gets away with it. Nothing more and nothing less.”

It was when the former gunner turned around and went back into the fray he saw Piper, Vadim, and Cait were themselves making fairly swift work of several of the gunners. His mind focused on taking out the other monster who had intended on killing his son, MacCready pushed through the gunners he could and swapped his handgun for his sniper rifle and went to find Stephen Barnes from within the smoke and haze all around them. Nearly tripping over a few beds and a few mattresses scattered under one of the shelters of the encampment, he tried to calm himself, steadying his hands around his rifle, pushing his way through the smoke. He let out a pained cry when a shot hit him in the left hip, causing the twenty four year old former mayor to stumble back, getting hit just below his right elbow and then in his right ankle. Struggling to regain his bearings, MacCready stumbled a little only, to his surprise, to be pulled back from falling over a set of chairs by Piper, seemingly appearing out of thin air amongst the smoke, shouts, and pain beginning to bloom through his body. He gave her a grateful, weak smile before the two of them had to open fire again, a group of four gunners having spotted and running towards them with fury and sick amusem*nt and laughter.

One down, then another.

Another.

Another.

The sounds of laughter, shouting, and gunfire beginning to get quieter, MacCready and Piper took a few seconds to catch their breath. After they had, they went back into the fray, though slower than before, the pain and bleeding starting to make him dizzy. He dropped the feeling as quickly as it came when the other man they had come after came into his sights. Kneeling down, struggling to stand up, MacCready aimed and began to fire at Stephen Barnes, only to pause when the man ran out of his range. He let out an aggravated sigh, and reloaded his rifle, feeling only a little relieved when he saw Vadim take out another two gunners with Piper before destroying the nearest of the few defence systems still operational in the encampment. His mind began to run amuck, worried, when he realised he had not seen Cait, and he started to feel sick; unsure if it were out of worry for his friend or from his injuries. Not sure what else to do, MacCready snatched whatever he could from the chairs and boxes nearest to him that could help stop the bleeding faster, his hands shaking when he set down his rifle and, for a few seconds, felt as though he were back in his childhood, before he had become the mayor Little Lamplight, after the cave in, and after…

“Bang!”

Cait.

Almost as startling as the noise of the rapid firing of the AR-18 the former cage fighter had ‘borrowed’ from her friend was the voice of Cait Felgate shouting along with it before coming into view, firing another few shots at and through the other man they had come after.

“Bang! Bang!” Cait yelled, finally shooting the man down. “Good as new!”

Finally, everything went still.

“Don’t think they’re going to need these anymore,” Piper remarked, dragging a crate of Nuka Cola over to where MacCready was sat, still binding up his wounds. “And a lot of the other sh*t here.”

“Free for the taking,” Cait said with a smirk, though she sighed and rolled her eyes when she saw MacCready. “Getting f*cked up trying to protect your son again?”

“This isn’t as bad as what happened when you had to drag me back to Goodneighbour, so I wouldn’t say that,” MacCready dryly replied. “But the job’s done. This should send the message to any other gunners to stay off my back.”

“They will,” Vadim said, clapping as he joined them. “They hear you loud and clear.”

“You know it,” MacCready said, laughing a little but giving him and Cait a grateful look when the two of them came over to help him finish dressing his wounds to be able to safely leave. “After I get these properly treated, there’s going to be nothing to worry about.”

Piper raised an eyebrow. “You sure?”

“With the way these lunatics act, you’d think they might retaliate but, believe me, they won’t. I worked with these guys only about a year, but other gunners, down in what used to be Maryland and Pennsylvania?” MacCready shook his head. “They’re all the same. It’s always about the bottom line, and they’ve just lost two of their best men and an entire waystation, which is going to cost them big. And, besides…they’ll have no way of knowing I was involved.”

“Then let’s get all the good sh*te and get out of here,” Cait said with a smirk. “They’ve learnt their lesson the hard way, and that’s just fine by me because these f*ckers? They’ve just gotten what they deserve.”

Chapter 37: Something Signalled

Chapter Text

The Commonwealth
May the 10th, 2289
5:37

The pain from his wounds still dull and throbbing, knowing, at least, he was going to be perfectly fine and the bullet fragments had been safely removed by his landlord and his wounds stitched up, motherly disapproval in her voice whilst she had worked, was more than enough to satisfy Robert Joseph MacCready.

To little surprise, Cait had gotten a little too excited telling everyone about how much she loved Rowdy’s AR-18. Nearly the second they passed through the gates into Goodneighbour, the former cage fighter had all but ran to Kill Or Be Killed, throwing open the door and babbling to Kleo about getting her hands on an AR-18 of her own. To much surprise, Kleo decided to give it to her for free after hearing what Cait had done with Rowdy’s. Where Cait and, soon after, Vadim had left shortly after they, Piper, and MacCready had made it back to Goodneighbour, presumably to brag to the patrons of the Dugout Inn and show off their ‘spoils of war,’ Piper had stayed with him and dragged him into his landlord’s store. After all but begging her not to wake up Annette and not feeling up to dragging himself to Amari after several hours of walking back to the eccentric town, Daisy had agreed to fix his wounds herself. Feeling more sore than in pain, about an hour since she had finished removing the bullet fragments one by one, disinfecting his wounds, and stitching them up, MacCready nervously looked between her and Piper as the two women talked. When they both paused and turned to him, he sighed.

“Look, they needed to be dealt with,” MacCready said, taking off his hat and rubbing at his head. “They tried to kill my son, nearly killed my…I couldn’t let it stand. They would have come after me again.”

“Well, if they ain’t going to bother you again, then that’s good news,” Daisy said, glancing out the window at the first hints at sunlight slipping through. “But you should have been more careful. You don’t usually get yourself hurt real bad when you go out, Bobby, and you’ve done some pretty dangerous jobs both when you worked for them and now you work for yourself and Hanco*ck.”

“Don’t remind me,” MacCready muttered. “It feels sh*tty enough.”

Piper snickered. “Careful, you’re going to start swearing in front of your son soon.”

“Shut up, Piper,” MacCready half heartedly replied. “I got shot several times, I think I’ve earnt the opportunity to swear.”

“You’ve got that nailed down,” Daisy hummed. “Speaking of Duncan, he should probably still be sleeping, unless the boy went to sleep real early last night.”

“Good,” MacCready said, pushing himself off the couch towards the back of her store and slowly standing up. “I’m going to check on him. Don’t cause trouble.”

“Can’t promise,” Piper cheerfully teased.

“I’ll come by to see how you’re feeling a little later,” Daisy told him. “If you’re still feeling like sh*t, I will make you go see Amari.”

MacCready sighed. “Let’s hope it doesn’t come to that.”

Hobbling his way across the room and to the stairs up to the apartments, MacCready set his hat back on his head and tiredly rubbed at his eyes, exhaustion starting to gnaw at him. One step, then another, and another. Maybe there really is something to the thing about adrenaline making things easier to push through. He fumbled with his jacket pockets, struggling for a minute to find his key. For a few seconds, he closed his eyes and leaned against the doorway into his apartment. Finally, he shoved the key into the door and clicked the lock open, trying to be as quiet as possible when he opened the door, not wanting to wake his son. He let out a sigh of relief when he didn’t see anything off about the apartment, and tried to close the door as quietly and carefully as he had opened it. Dropping his key back into his jacket pocket, he leaned back against the wall for a few minutes, closing his eyes again. Finally, he slowly unzipped and took off his combat boots one by one, nearly falling over halfway through the process. It was when he got a light whiff of coffee from the kitchen that he startled, before smiling and making his way across the apartment to the kitchen.

“It’s six in the morning, doll, ain’t that a little early even for you?”

Annette let out a short, startled scream when she turned around, only to fall completely silent when she saw MacCready had, at the very least, a few very recent stitches, the most obvious of which were on his hands.

“We had to get up by six most of my life,” She finally said. “But, Bobby, what in the –”

“Don’t worry, I’m fine,” He said, sighing when she frowned. “Daisy fixed me up,” He explained, startling himself when she suddenly and tightly embraced him, looking shaky. “Doll, I’m fine, I –”

“If Daisy had to give you stitches, I find that hard to believe,” Her voice faltered. “What happened, Bobby?”

“Just had to handle a bit of business,” MacCready said, reassuringly rubbing her back. “It’s alright, Netta. I got a little messed up, but it was well worth it.”

“More than a little messed up, I’m guessing,” She said, blinking back tears when he gently kissed her and fixed her falling glasses. “Thank God you’re alright.”

“Everything is alright,” MacCready amended. “Winlock and Barnes are gone. Well, them, their small army of gunners, and their entire waystation.”

Annette stared at him for a few seconds, speechless.

“Piper, Vadim, and Cait helped deal with them too,” He went on with a faint smile. “And, heck, I think Cait’s discovered a new favourite weapon.”

Annette managed a small laugh. “And what might that be?”

“An AR-18,” MacCready replied, relieved when she laughed again and unable to not laugh himself. “She can’t keep ‘borrowing’ Rowdy’s. She keeps doing that much longer, and it’s basically stealing.”

“As if Rowdy wouldn’t steal it back,” She rolled her eyes with a smile. “The two of them are effective, but they’re also a bit, from what I’ve heard and the little I’ve seen, eccentric.”

“Eccentric is one way to put it,” MacCready said, sighing when she let go of him to turn off the stove. “But, I promise, you don’t have to worry about me. I’ve had worse. Not the first time I’ve gotten a bit messed up in a firefight.”

“At least try to take it easy,” She told him. “Gives you an excuse to spend more time with Duncan.”

“And you,” MacCready affectionately teased. “But…yeah. Guess it’s a good thing Hanco*ck is probably going to think this is the best thing he’s ever heard.”

Annette glanced at him, raising an eyebrow.

“What’s that at the moment?”

“Any of the stories behind the people who’ve gotten their pictures on the wall at the Third Rail,” He said with a shrug, wobbling over to and sitting down at the kitchen counter. “The most recent one was one of the caravan bosses out of the Hill, Cricket. I’m honestly not sure how she’s still alive given all the drugs she does, but she apparently won an intense game of poker against some mob idiots despite not knowing the rules.”

She smirked, pouring two cups of coffee. “Were the people she was playing against also high or is she just possessed by unnaturally good luck?”

“Both, most likely,” MacCready said, dropping his hat on the counter beside him before accepting one of the cups of coffee from her. “You doing alright? You look shaken.”

“Yes, I’m shaken,” Annette snapped, suddenly staring down at her hands when she saw the look of hurt that crossed his face. “I’m sorry, Bobby, I…I don’t…the thought of you getting badly hurt by…”

“It’s alright, doll,” MacCready hesitated. “I probably should have told you, but I didn’t want you to worry. I was going to be fine, and I am.”

“And I’m relieved you are,” Annette said, her voice wavering. “But please don’t do it again.”

“I won’t,” MacCready promised, reaching over and squeezing her hands when she sat down across from him and set down her coffee. “It’s not as if I have any enemies who’ll want to dare come after me once they find out about this anyways.”

Vault 88
May the 12th, 2289
13:02