fallout 4 aftermath By Rick O'Shay.

Squire Sherri Stone waited hesitantly on the flight deck of the Prydwen she had only just turned fifteen years old and this was her first assignment. Today they would welcome a very special guest. Behind Sherri, along both sides of the flight deck stood Knights in highly polished T-60 power armour, gigantic steel monoliths stood motionlessly to attention, it made her shiver, not the cold wind that whipped through the open flight deck, but that she had been chosen to meet and greet an ambassador from the High Council.

The whole of the Prydwen was in lock down, page boys and girls were busying themselves making sure every tiny piece of the Airship was as it should be, the other Squires who were she was sure, most envious of Sherri. They would have had to polish those knights armour, and would most like still be sweeping out dark corners or worse slopping out latrines.

The airship from top to bottom, stern to bow, was a light with rumour and gossip as word spread amongst the junior ranks especially those younger pages. This was a visitor from the Western Chapter of the Brotherhood, from the High Council, and he had arrived in the Commonwealth aboard his flagship the Valkyrie.

The Valkyrie was made of silk the pages would tell you, and all her metal work was gold or silver even her running lights instead of being coloured glass like the Prydwen, were made from Diamonds or other precious gem stones.

Here we are, thought Sherri, who incidentally hadn't stopped grinning from ear to ear since she was given this posting, standing on the open flight deck of the Prydwen dressed in her brand new out of the bag uniform, and she felt every bit the part. However, that didn't stop her from patting herself down several times or from removing pieces of invisible lint, much to the amusement of the Knight's on duty with her.

It had never bothered the Squire being either this high up in the air or that felling that some had of being so totally exposed, yes they all had mag-treads that magnetised their boots on contact with the decking but it was still hundreds of feet above the tallest buildings in view, with only waist height railings either side to stop a person falling over the edge and to a certain death.

No more time to idyll Sherri thought as she looked out towards the open ocean on catching sight of the Verti-Bird as it approached the Prydwen. The dull almost silent whooshing sound made by the twin turbo shaft engines allowed her to ghost past the underside of the flight deck effortlessly as she made her final approach.

Sherri's stomach churned as the spot light of attention shone on her for now, what if she tripped on the decking and fell into the Guest? Who was this esteemed guest that warranted so much spit and polish? Why was the Prydwen on lock down?

There was the smallest of clunks along with a back rush of exhaled warm air from her engines, the Verti-Bird had finally docked.

In her mind the young Squire could hear ceremonial music playing where there was none, in fact, the Prydwen was a warship and therefore be-refed of any type of pomp or ceremony. Even so it didn't mean that everyone aboard this elegant instrument of war wasn't shoulders back head high proud to be serving on her.

The small step down from the V-Bird unfurled and a foot appeared, glinting in the sun light, followed by a leg and then the rest of the body. He stood for a moment taking time to look around, Sherri wondered what he must have thought at as he ran his steely gaze over the scene ahead of him.

The figure that now stood only feet from her took Sherri's breathe away.

Enshrined by the sun and standing at least seven feet tall in his highly polished power armour, power armour that dripped with gold gilding all around its edges. Unlike anything Sherri had ever seen before this power armour was covered in parts by an incredibly detailed and ornate silk flowing robe, and off the shoulders drooped yet more silk to cover the upper arms. He wasn't wearing his helmet either, otherwise how could anyone see that clean shaven - chiselled jawline or sculptured high forehead framed by greased back predominately black hair that sported silver grey swept back-sides.

The page boys were right, this was no ordinary guest, her eyes wide as owls as he glided effortlessly towards her. The gentle breeze picking up his long flowing silk robe and epaulettes only adding to his mystique.

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'Welcome to the Prydwen Sir,' the young girl rasped.

The newcomer looked down at Squire, his eyes buried deep into her very soul like twin laser rifles as his head moved ever so slightly upward from the tip of her toes, all four foot eight and a half inches to the top of her tonsured basin blond cut hair, Sherri just wanted to melt right off that flight deck and disappear into the Boston main channel below. For his part the immaculately dressed guest never ceased to enjoy the elation he felt when he graced those who served him with his magnificent presence, especially if it were there first time, young or old it made no difference, it was just a pity that his platform this day was a rusty old airship that looked well past its repair date.

Reaching out a fatherly hand he gently cupped the small oval face of the squire, his smile so warm and friendly. Enchanting in fact, if the look on the squire's face was anything to go by.

She closed her eyes briefly feeling both the warmth and the strength from his large rough hand, his thumb caressed her left cheek and yet his four fingers moved swiftly under her chin holding her head vice like for the briefest of time.

'Now son – he enquired- how long have you been a squire?' He asked, his tongue flickering over his dry cracked lips.

'I'm not …Sir!' Sherri was confined to a whimper as she replied, knowing that for some reason she had so disappointed him.

'You're not?' He asked quizzically, now it was the magnificent newcomers turn to be wrong footed.

'I mean I am a squire Sir and this is my first day on duty, but I'm not err, sorry, Sir.' The words just seemed to tumble out of her mouth in whatever order they saw fit.

Taken aback for a moment, flustered even, the High Council himself fumbled for words.

'Oh! Yes of course, such an angelic look. It was merely a slip of the tongue my dear child, enough of this now, I'm sure I am expected somewhere on this ship.' The mood was gone the veneer smashed for both parties and for two very different reasons.

Elder Maxson was waiting in his briefing room when the soft rapping noise came on his door. Enter! He barked knowing full well who was about to be introduced to him, but this was all part of the game, a show that would hopefully not go unnoticed before such an esteemed guest.

'Squire Stone, is it?' Maxson enquired as though he'd plucked the name from thin air.

'Yes Sir!' The reply was short and sharp but delivered perfectly.

'What business do we have today?' Maxson tried to make it seem like he was the busiest man in the world although he was standing alone in the middle of his room.

'A Visitor, Sir! Should I show him in, Sir?' Sherri wondered if she should bow or curtesy. Sherri was a diligent student and spent many an hour pouring over old history holo tapes in the Prydwen's vast archives.

'Of course and be quick about it! I'm sure the Elder hasn't flown all this way to stand in the corridor all day!' Maxson tried to exert an air of superiority that just didn't come naturally to him.

'Yes Sir! I mean No sir, sorry sir.' Sherri was stung by the Elder's veracity and tone, she cursed her stupid tongue, if only it had been trained so rigorously as the rest of her had!

High Council member Howard Hartley floated into the briefing room as elegantly as if he were walking down the isle of some high vaulted palace or Cathedral.

'Maxson my dear friend,' he held out both arms to greet the Commander of the Prydwen. Hugging was not usually permitted anywhere in the Brotherhood but Hartley knew that and loved the reaction it got every time he did especially with these younger Elders, he liked to think of himself as their benevolent father.

'Your squire there, forgive me for noticing but it was a girl, yes?' Hartley's face tightened as he asked the question, was this a pre-planned insult? Clearly he was not amused.

Now it was Maxson's turn for a smile, just the briefest though as he realised that Hartley would have preferred a male Squire, information was most certainly power, however, was this a personal preference or some old school protocol?

'Yes, High Councillor.' Maxson continued somewhat more emboldened by this small victory. 'Squire Sherri Stone, she was given to us as a foundling seven years ago, and has risen through the junior ranks to finish as a page leader in every field in her class.'

'Quite so I'm sure Maxson, but honestly has she mastered the seven points?' Quite why Hartley failed to accept this girl was now beginning to irk Arthur Maxson, perhaps it was a personal preference after all.

Squires were required to master the seven points of agilities; piloting a Verti-Bird, swimming, and diving, shooting seven different weapons, climbing and most important, participating in tournaments befitting a Knight, for example; Fencing, marksman, wrestling, and finally Power Armour frame maneuvers.

'As I said, Stone finished top of her class, the very brightest of her academic year. Naturally though, the Verti-Bird training was completed in a simulator.' Elder Maxson spoke so affectionately that Hartley wondered if this girl was his own, or was Maxson mocking him, no matter how discreet one might care to be, there was always the possibility that other would find out.

'What about the eighth requirement Maxson?' Hartley took delicious delight in exacting a response for this little tease of his. Hartley's face was a little flushed as he presented this question, for a second time he had allowed his mask to slip. Maxson however thought he had detected a flash of annoyance, as he wasn't sure, he did as every good officer did, and he played dumb.

'Eighth? High Councillor, I wasn't aware that regulations asked for an eighth discipline.'

Arthur Maxson was easing his way into this game of verbal fencing, pleased when he scored a point, even better that he out jabbed his bombastic guest.

'Oh my dear fellow! You have been away from the High Council for far to long, the eighth discipline as you call it, oh and I do like that you called it a discipline, is of course the skills these dear little ones procure in the bed chamber.' Hartley could barely contain his delight as he delivered that punch, yes it was well below the belt, but this jumped up country bumpkin deserved it. The look of horror on Maxson's face was a pretty picture indeed. Hartley was never one to back down from a winning hand, continued. 'Please don't be bashful we are both travelled and learned men are we not?'

'High Councillor I fear that you are testing me for I have never in all my service years' heard of this eighth whatever you call it, no sir, and certainly not on my ship.' Maxson was incandescent with rage and thus barely able to spit the words out of his mouth.

'No? Never mind, I'm teasing you Arthur truly – he lied – I am sorry, I was warned beforehand by the High Council that you were a sensitive type. My apologies, sixty hours aboard the Valkyrie will do that to a man. My only companions you see this time were the Outcast's, and they are such brutish fellows you know, they cannot hold their liquor and they most certainly cannot sing, but it doesn't stop them from trying to do both.'

Arthur Maxson's face contorted with sheer confusion, a sight which seemed to please Hartley immensely.

'Can I ask you something High Councillor?'

'Only if you call me Howard, Arthur, we are both of equal rank you know, so please ask away.' Though Hartley knew he was far superior it always made a beaten man feel better about himself when hearing such things said by the victor.

'Thank you Howard, may I ask how those Outcast's got re-instated? As I understood it they had committed an act of high treason and were exiled out of the Brotherhood.'

'Politics my dear fellow! As it is with these things, it always boils down to a single word, necessity. The Brotherhood are so very short on man power especially after the debacle with the New California Republic. To be perfectly honest, Arthur we have more power armour suits than we have knights to fill them.' Hartley checked himself from saying too much, he may have thought he had won this opening salvo of words, but he still did not have the measure of this man, Maxson, yet.

'Is there anything more that you can tell me about the Outcast's, Howard?' Arthur had recovered his poise but held back from going back on the offensive, his opponent in this contest was extremely well versed, and Arthur preferred an opponent rather than an adversary.

'Arthur I can only tell you that they asked to serve under your command, and that the High Council deliberated on the matter for an age before allowing them to return.' That made the frown on Maxson's face turn upside down, those noble savages had actually requested that?

Hartley allowed for a brief pause so that the little man opposite could savour this small crumb. 'Don't sell yourself short Arthur, you are highly respected in all circles and that my dear boy is why I am here in person, to hand you their reigns so to speak.'

'Howard surely the High Council did not dispatch one of its best advisers simply to convey a message as trivial as that?' Arthur was being coy as well as cautious.

Still licking your wounds the High Councillor though smugly to himself as he fumbled around with a large oversized button on a pocket that hung from his equipment belt. 'Here we are this is for you.' Hartley pulled something from the pocket.

It was a large A 4 sized brown folder that had three red wax seals upon it that were stamped over three lengths of red ribbon.

It was in that moment that Arthur realised for the first time that the Councillor was wearing silk gloves, which drew an ironic smile as he accepted the folder as though it were something to be treasured.

It read on the front of the folder in bold burgundy letters; EYES ONLY, and in smaller letters of the same colour, OPERATION POSSUM.

Now here was an interesting if underwhelming title for a covert operation, it made Arthur wonder which pompous ass had thought this up.

'I take it you have already been briefed on this operation, Howard?' Oh for the fleeting thought that Hartley had not it was almost too much to saviour.

'Of course my good man, it is actually all my idea.' With that he cocked his head slightly and smiled again, one of his smug self-congratulating smiles.

'Son of a mole rat,' was all that Arthur could think to say, but only as thoughts in his mind.

'Arthur while you have been out east doing a sterling job of things we, the High Council have implemented a few changes, to the organisation, its structure, command and control and especially the recruitment set-up. The documents you now have are a culmination of all that we, the High Council, have put into place so far. Oh and did you not hear? We have a new leader, not of the High Council but he has a casting vote over them.'

Elder Arthur Maxson could hardly believe what he was hearing, more so because he had not received one single scrap of gossip or Intel on any of this.

'We have a new leader? Who is he, where is he from? Was there a memo? Why wasn't this made known to me sooner?' Arthur's cheeks burned red such was his embarrassment.

'Now, Arthur don't act all wounded. Your operation here is held in the highest regard by everyone. You yourself are being groomed – though you wouldn't have known- for high office. Alas your twenty seven years are against you attaining such privileges yet, give it another three years, say, or as soon as Operation Possum is complete, and well who knows you could be giving me a run for my money!'

'What about Nathan Dewitt? I have made him a Paladin, second in command here in the Commonwealth. This operation may not be to his liking.'

'Yes. You elevated him rather quickly, didn't you! He said incredulously. 'I can tell you that act raised a few eyebrows, so what's his story?'

'Where do I begin honestly? He's a god damned force of nature that's what he is, single handily re-united the thirty two settlements that make up the Commonwealth.'

Grudgingly Howard cocked his head in admiration. 'Dare I even ask what he does in his spare time?'

'Well let's just say he completed every single Brotherhood mission he was sent on, including tracking down a recon squad who had been missing for three years. Howard he brought back the tags and tapes from Knight Varham and Astlin, killing every ghoul that they couldn't, before tracking down Scribe Faris whose body was in a Super-mutant settlement.'

'Did he kill them all as well?' Hartley was enjoying that Arthur's re-telling of this story filled the little man with such pride, Hartley though hated men of action, they could not be controlled in quite the same way as he would have liked.

'Oh yes, and returned a full set of T-60 power armour that those Mutants had captured.'

'Impressive Arthur. I'm sure I can't wait to meet this man.' Jumped up little prig Hartley thought to himself.

'Oh that wasn't the end of it Howard! No, then he turns up here with a very sorry looking Paladin Brandis in tow! Mad as a box of frogs he was, after three years alone in the wilderness.'

'So you made him up to a Paladin as a reward?'

You are as pathetic as he is! Hartley once more conversed in his mind with himself.

'You are god damned right I did, this guy is a walking talking certifiable legend.'

'OK, Arthur, you must understand that he is NOT Brotherhood however valiant his exploits have been. That said, we are here to carry out our orders, regarding the future of the Commonwealth. That being the case we do not under any circumstances want or need to antagonise this man. If Nathan Dewitt requests our help, we help, heck if he asks us to jump, we ask him, how high? Is that understood?'

'Absolutely!'

'So has he got any close friends in the Brotherhood?' Hartley needed to get to know his enemy.

'Knight Captain Danse, yes, and Warrant Officer Haylen.'

'I want them put under surveillance twenty four seven, along with anyone else he is close too, now tell me we have some allies? Is there anyone we can trust?'

'Allies? Nathan is an ally!' Arthur blurted out.

'Yes, of course he is, it was a poor choice of words, but you understand, the High Council will want to know as much about this man as they can and that will include those he calls friends, and those he doesn't.'

'Knight Lieutenant Rhys, he is Captain Danse's right hand man, in Recon Squad Gladius, but there is history between him and Nathan.'

'Do you know why, Arthur?'

'I too was intrigued by this notion, even more so when I found out that it was Nathan who rescued the team from a Ghoul assault.'

'Rescued?'

'Yes, they had lost one man already and then Rhys was surrounded and badly wounded. Nathan appeared, waded straight into the fray, saved Rhys and even patched him up afterwards like he was a full blown field medic!'

'Rhys resented that I take it?'