Thank you for your interest in this story! Please take a moment to read this introduction, as this is the only place this information will be. Additionally, please read the important Author's Note at the end of this intro. Enjoy!

Disclaimer: Fallout 4 is copyright its creators and copyright holders. This is a work of fanfiction.

Original elements of the story, including unique portions of the plot, are copyright Margaret Smoke.

This work is complete. Chapters will be posted Tuesdays.

This work is cross-posted to Wattpad, Ao3, and Tumblr.

This work is the first part of the Publick Media series and takes place in the Revival universe. Readers do not need familiarity with Revival to read this fic.

- Spoilers/Timeline -

The Sole Survivor is involved with all major factions, but no faction has been favored or made into an enemy; spoilers for expansions and add-ons in terms of new Companions, NPC factions known, and build-mode items available; spoilers for basics of Survival Mode; MAJOR Companion story spoilers for max affinity levels.

- Content Warning (Entire Story) -

Language: Use of slang considered inappropriate for children. Use of threats. Use of Fallout-esque slurs.

Violence: Use of threats, verbal and physical. Presence of weaponry and threats to use weapons. Themes and depictions of atypical forms of violence (hate speech, systemic oppression, etc.)

Gore: No depictions of gore. Brief but mild imagery of a meatbag (super mutant container).

Other: Discussions and depictions of alcohol, drugs, and tobacco products. A character's illness manifests as pain, but no gore.

Sexual Content: No graphic depictions of sex. Characters discuss sexual attractions and encounters.

- Author's Note -

You will encounter an intentional typo early in this chapter.

Piper and Jun Write a Newspaper

by Margaret Smoke

12.1.2290 FRI - Miss Dearborn

County Crossing Defeats Raiders

Minutemen repelled raiders from County Crossing last Friday, after the raiders, thought to be based nearby, attacked at approximately 1:59 AM. The raiding party numbered seven raiders total, two armed with highly modified missle launchers reported stolen from Diamond City earlier this week. Witnesses claim the raiders appeared to have no motive other than destruction.

Thanks in part to local defenses and guards trained by Minutemen leaders, County Crossing kept the raiders from infiltrating the farm and destroying much more than a water pump. Once Minutemen reinforcements arrived, the raiders were felled within minutes.

"I don't know what we'd do without the patrols," said Anne Wilson, a local merchant in County Crossing. "These souls brave the Commonwealth and give up settling in one place just to keep us all safe."

When asked if the Minutemen General made an appearance, Wilson replied, "Not this time, but we never expect her to show up personally for every problem our settlements face. She does her best to visit whenever possible, and often drops off supplies or blueprints and materials for better structures or defenses. The patrols do fine work, and if she trusts them, I trust them."

Settlers in County Crossing thanked the patrols and the protected supply lines for the rapid repair of the broken water pump. "We've already flushed the pipe and are getting fresh water again," said Byron Jones, captain of the guard in County Crossing. "We've made certain to return the stolen weapons to Diamond City too."

The weapons were returned safely, according to a spokesperson for Diamond City Security, so there is no need for caravans to be on heightened alert. "Make certain that any criminals who catch word of this know that the weapons have been returned to their rightful owner, and that security here in Diamond City has been re-evaluated and strengthened to avoid future thefts."

"Hmm."

Piper Wright leaned back in the sofa and tapped her pen on her chin. She hemmed harder, then squinted at the piece, giving it another re-read. Murmuring the article's title, she sat forward, invading the personal space of the author whose work she scrutinized. The lobby at Publick Occurrences' Sanctuary satellite office was cozy. That was the way Piper spun it, anyway.

"Jun?" Piper leaned to her side, showing Jun the work. He held one side of the page and scanned it with his somber eyes, then pointed to something. Piper gave a brief nod, used her free hand as a writing surface, and circled that something. It made the author across from her squirm a little, but that was part of the act.

Joanna Dearborn looked a lot like a pencil, thin and angular, with a pointy nose. Her light white cheeks were rouged with an eraser-pink blush, giving her a youthful look. She even dressed in a yellow so bright, Piper wondered if she'd ever stepped foot outside a settlement before. She obviously had, because Piper would've noticed someone so prim and bright walking around Sanctuary Hills.

"Pardon me," said Dearborn, "but is everything all right with my article?"

Piper put on a show and hemmed again. She lowered the article into her and Jun's laps and said, "Miss Dearborn, where's your byline?"

"My byline?"

"The thing that attributes your work to you?"

"Oh, did I forget that?" If she were blushing, it was hard to tell. "I am so sorry. I will correct that right away."

"You might want to correct your spelling of 'missile' too," Piper added. "And by the way, don't you mean Anne Wallace? Or does CoCross have another Anne doing business?"

"I didn't have Wallace?" Miss Dearborn leaned across the very small gap, never breaking etiquette, and looked at the circle Piper pointed to. "Oh my, forgive me. You are correct. That should read as Anne Wallace. I don't know where Wilson came fr—"

"And there's also a clear skew, here," Piper said. " 'Thanks in part to local defenses and guards trained by Minutemen leaders.' Look, we're all thankful to the Minutemen, believe me, I get it, but the paper doesn't go out to just Minutemen settlements. We're based in Diamond City, and we have readers in Goodneighbor and Vault 81. The other day? Jun got a letter from Far Harbor. Ever heard of it?"

"Well, no, I haven't…"

Piper held up a hand. "Hang on." Miss Dearborn was clearly flustered, and her pencil-shaving-colored hair had started to come out of its perfect updo, which she appeared further embarrassed by. Piper pulled out a box of gum drops from her pocket and offered them with a musical shake. "Want one?"

Miss Dearborn reluctantly nodded, and politely cupped her hands. Piper poured in more than she would give Hancock or Deacon during one of their water-cooler smoke breaks. Miss Dearborn gave a small nod and daintily popped a red drop into her mouth. Piper was a little more crude and casual about handling her food, but better than MacCready on a good day. At least she closed her mouth and tried not to chew too loudly.

"Listen, Miss Dearborn. Your article was actually really good, but things are going to get rough out there. We need to be very tough here at the editing stage, to make sure we can put out the best paper we can put out. Your writing is strong, but you come off as really fragile, and not because of how proper you're being. To get the best story, you might have to go a little harder and dig a little deeper than you're comfortable with."

Miss Dearborn covered her mouth as she chewed, and nodded.

"I'm not saying to cut out your personality completely. In fact, people might be willing to share with someone like you a little more than they would someone like me. I've got a…friend who occasionally calls me a bloodbug. But I need to know that what you're giving me is your very best, and that you can take a little editorial criticism."

Upon swallowing, Miss Dearborn took a moment to quietly suck on her teeth, then said, "Yes, of course, Miss Wright. I am so just so utterly embarrassed at having made such obvious mistakes during this interview."

"Oh, you're in," said Piper, much to Miss Dearborn's surprise. "Didn't you catch what I wrote at the top of your article?" Piper turned the paper so that it faced Miss Dearborn once more. She tapped her pen over the part where she'd written "Hire? Yes/No." "Yes" had been circled once in pencil, and again in the ink of a pen.

"I…I don't know what to say. Thank you, Miss Wright, Mr. Long!"

"Honestly, I haven't seen something this plain and to the point in a long time. It reminds me of the old Bugles," said Piper. "Jun?"

Jun nodded, his normally messy black hair combed nicely for the interview. Piper had left her slightly curving tendrils alone: no need to put on a face other than her reporter face for a new employee.

Jun reclaimed the article, and re-read it quickly. "I know what happened. I know all the parties involved. I know how the people are feeling afterward. I know if justice has been delivered and how. You also left out the little details, which can take up vital printing space. It really is a wonderful sample. I hope we consider it for our next edition."

Miss Dearborn perked up. Jun's tone and positive attention to her work must have warmed her. This was probably why Jun got mostly good letters from readers, and Piper got threats of poison. As if that hadn't already happened to her.

"Pay is a little tough," said Piper. "We're trying not to do what the Bugle did with new writers, which was pay per word, because we have the final say in how many words you get into the paper. Buuuuuut, we're also not into letting people work for exposure either, because that's a huge crock of bullshit—and maybe a good story, hmm—so we can do a flat rate for now, by the day, okay? You have a place here yet?"

Miss Dearborn shook her head.

"We'll get you set up somewhere temporary. Just show up at 9 AM and be ready to work."

"How will I get the news from here?" said Miss Dearborn, her most important question of the interview.

"You won't. Well, not stuff from CoCross anyway. I need you to cover here and Abernathy, and you'll need training on our presses too. Make sure to check in with me, your editor, before pursuing anything outside of that circuit, okay? Not because I want to stifle the news, but because I don't want the Commonwealth taking a good writer away. It's a miracle you made it here with that pocket knife. So I'd rather we have a plan of action when it comes to something hotter than the usual story. But first, we need to get you acclimated to working here." Piper stood. "The two of you should work on fitting that article into tomorrow's edition."

Jun stood in unity with Miss Dearborn, and nodded to the print room that shared the first floor of the building. One of Sturges' wonders lay within, along with a nice, fine layer of black dust. Miss Dearborn flattened her clothing and quickly fixed her hair by pulling it out of her updo.

"Um, you may want to pull that back so you don't lose a chunk of it in the press," advised Piper. "It's a bit of a monster." An amazing, print-tastic monster.

"Oh, yes," said Miss Dearborn. She put it up in a sloppy, but practical ponytail. "Is this okay?"

"Yes, much better. I'd change too, if you want to keep the ink off those nice clothes."

"Yes, of course." Miss Dearborn glanced about the sofas and spotted her suitcase. "Where can I…?"

"Right this way, Miss Dearborn," said Jun, ushering her toward the small bathroom. "I'll meet you in the print room, which is that door there. We'll use the terminal in there to make those corrections for now."

"Yes, thank you."

Miss Dearborn entered the Vault-Tec furnished bathroom and shut the door. Piper and Jun shared a look and a fond smile. She'd always wanted to run a proper paper; hiring Miss Dearborn brought her closer to that dream. And to think, Piper had almost ignored Marcy's passive-aggressive pleas to read Jun's works nearly a year ago. Piper had written them off as a coping mechanism, never considering Jun a person of journalistic talent. Now, Jun was her top reporter/assistant/copyeditor/printer, and Marcy occasionally helped with deliveries to the Provisioner relay lines. They were happier at Publick Occurrences, and Piper…well, she was happy too.

"This'll be good for us," said Piper. "More content could bring in more readers, more caps…"

"We could fund distribution to Kingsport," said Jun.

"Or go beyond Egret."

"Get to Far Harbor on purpose instead of by chance."

"Pay Sturges to build a photo lab."

They shared another smile.

Piper rubbed her fingers together, failing to remove pen ink from her peach skin. It smudged instead, leaving traces of blue on her thumb. "Well, I'm going to get a little more work done, then grab us all some lunch," she said.

"Doing any fishing today?"

Piper smirked. "You know it."