The bunker doors opened with an audible hiss, air rushing into steel hallways not opened to the outside in centuries. The forest around had nearly completely overtaken the bunker's few surface facilities. Thick vegetation clung to the concrete structures, choking them until they would one day die and return to the earth that had made them lifetimes ago.

But now the bunker was again alive with activity; hulking, armored warriors stalked through the bunker's primary gate and their footsteps clanged loudly on the Spartan steel floors.

"Sweep the bunker," one said. "Make sure we're alone."

He turned and to another such armored soldier, "Bring the wounded in as soon as we've secured the medbay."

Senior Paladin Jasper Riley sighed inside his helmet. He was exhausted from a long day of forced march and he knew many of his remaining men had to be feeling the same way, even if not a one of them would show it. He was proud of them then. Much had been asked of the Brotherhood of late and these that stood with him now had answered and with all they had and more.

But now they were nearing the end of their wick. The demands of war were weighing on them quite heavily now and they had lost so much it seemed as though they had nothing more to give up in the name of the Sacred Mission.

"What's the name of this place?" he asked of Senior Scribe Williams. The scribe shook his head.

"I don't know," he said simply.

"We're lucky to have found it."

"We owe your Knight Keegan for that, I think," Williams said. Jasper shook his head and frowned within in his armor.

"Knight Keegan is a valued member of the order," said Jasper and Williams allowed himself a small smile at that. "At any rate we owe a broken radio as much as we owe her skills at reconnaissance."

It was true, from a certain point of view. This bunker had apparently been located by the Brotherhood of Steel once before, when there men enough to send out on parties this far north. Pressing needs elsewhere had meant that no men could be spared to man this outpost and so it was mothballed and sealed for future use.

That day had come.

A single pulsing tone over the radio on an unused channel had led them to the area, hopeful that there would be more survivors of Fort Collins. Knight Keegan's scouting team had found instead a silent network of concrete boxes and rusted fencing hidden in a dark thatch of trees – a northerly forest overgrown in the absence of man.

"Let's find an operations room," said Jasper and he and the scribe took their first real steps into the bowels of the bunker. It was an old US Army shelter once upon a time, before the Great War had eliminated both the United States and its Army. At a guess, Jasper thought it had perhaps been part of a coastal defense system built for the Great War. Why it had been found abandoned, seemingly lost in an ocean of green, was something he could only guess at.

For now it would serve as a place to rest and regroup until a counterattack on the New California Republic could be mounted.

Senior Paladin Riley made a fist of his armored gauntlet at the thought. Fort Collins was a smoldering ruin by now, the fires ignited from within now consuming the buildings and the advanced technologies that they had been unable to take with them. In that Jasper felt there was a small victory. Though they had won this fight, the NCR would not be able to turn acquired armor and weapons against the Brotherhood or make use of the military base.

Though they had still dealt the Brotherhood a stinging defeat. A whole chapter of men and women now scattered to the four winds, many dead defending the retreat.

Elder Norman missing and hundreds of others.

The bunker complex was as any Jasper had seen before. Though the particulars sometimes differed, the placement of vital structures and facilities was usually the same. Now a small platoon of Paladins and Knights was sweeping the complex, checking for any signs of occupation. Already Jasper knew they would find none.

The group that had first found the bunker had swept it and sealed it, painting the sigil of the Brotherhood on the outer door as a sign to ward off squatters. The gear encircling a sword sigil of the Brotherhood had been unbroken, paint dry between the doors.

The operations center would be found in the heart of the complex, positioned to be best defended from bombings and attack. There they would find a myriad of equipment to be used in the bunker's operations – everything from long-range radios to early warning devices.

Deeper still in the bunker would they find medical facilities and armories. Perhaps still fully stocked and ready to be put to use.

The operations center was sealed behind heavy doors, protected from blast and reinforced all around to prevent cave-in.

Knight Gomez was very good at cracking locks, however, and after a few minutes' work he was opening the door to banks of deactivated screens and computers. The centerpiece of the room, as always, was the massive field mapping array, a table-sized computer structure capable of mapping and displaying the local area for use in planning strategy.

The lights had still not been activated and so Jasper could only view the room with his helmet's image intensifying night vision.

"How does it look?" Williams asked, unable to view the full room with his dim headlamp.

"Beautiful," said Jasper in a muted tone. "Everything I've ever wanted."

Even as he spoke he felt weight on his chest besides the armor.

He hadn't yet admitted it to himself but now, looking into what would be the headquarters for his chapter of the Brotherhood of Steel, he might very well be the commanding officer.