Chapter 1

There are Poisons That Blind You...

On an unmarked street in what was once the city of Washington, a predator stalked its prey. Three Super Mutants were hulking around an encampment. One of them was chewing on the bones of the last unlucky traveler to cross their path. In less than two minutes, none of them would still be alive. Hiding beyond their vision, a man was tracking them through the sights of his Gauss Rifle. The first shot killed one of them and confused the other two. He had time to reload. The second shot was exactly as deadly as another body struck the pavement with a sickening CRACK!

The third mutant now could see where the shots were coming from. Even for the stupidest creatures, a suit of winterized power armor was hard to miss. The assailant had to reload, which gave the mutant a chance to reach for his Chinese assault rifle. He began spraying bullets in the direction of the attacker, who retreated out of sight. When the bullets ran out, the mutant charged forward holding the rifle like a club, rather than reload. It was the last mistake he made; his attacker had a clear line of sight. With one shot to the upper torso, the mutant collapsed to the ground, his chest pulverized. He was still breathing, though he wouldn't be for long.

"Puny human!" He shouted through bloody teeth, "You think this insignificant wound will stop me?"

"No," replied the voice, "but this will." He shot him in the head. He paused to admire his handiwork, then buckled over in pain, unable to grit his teeth any longer. The mutant had no finesse, but even firing blind can land a bullseye if you're lucky. He could see blood dripping out from his lower chest plate. He stood upwards and started to walk in the direction of GNR. He'd suture himself up there.

"Noise came from over here!" A new voice sounded. He froze. Five new Super Mutants, likely from a nearby camp, were rushing towards him. He'd been so focused on his targets he hadn't thought to check his surroundings before he opened fire. "Metal man! He killed Super Mutants! Super Mutants will kill the metal man!"

"Shit," he cursed. They all raised their weapons to fire, he raised his rifle to fire back. They were carrying some heavy firepower, the chances of survival were slim. Lucky for him, he wouldn't need to risk those odds today. Several laser beams from an AER9 laser rifle stopped the Super Mutants in their tracks. One of them set off a grenade that one of the Super Mutants was holding. The blast killed three of them, the other beams picked off the other two.

The man stared in shock for a moment, before a voice called out from behind him.

"You know, one of these days I'm not going to be here to save your ass," it said. He recognized it, sighed, then turned to face them.

"Nice to see you too, Sarah," he said as she walked towards him.

"You're bleeding," she said, noticing the blood. He looked down, swallowing hard as his focus caused the pain to intensify. "So the mighty Lone Wanderer is human after all, huh?"

"Yeah... Yeah, you mind keeping watch while I deal with that?" He asked. She shrugged and proceeded to take up watch. He moved to treat his injuries. The 'mighty' Lone Wanderer's real name was Thomas. As he removed his helmet, he revealed the face of a young man of the wasteland. His hair was short, black, trimmed nice and neat with a beard to match; his eyes were hazel, his stare was kind. His skin was the color of coffee with a few drops of cream mixed in and was smooth to the touch. All in all, he didn't cut the figure of a veteran soldier; he seemed more like an experienced surgeon. Indeed, that's likely what he would have become if circumstances hadn't forced him to take a new path in life.

He slipped out of his power armor next, then out of the old t-shirt he was wearing beneath that. Bullets had managed to pierce him in the abdomen, though none appeared to have hit anything vital. Knowing this wasn't going to be fun, he injected himself with Med-X to numb the oncoming pain. Using a pair of forceps he kept on him, he plucked the bullets out one at a time, gritting his teeth the whole way through. He then used a spool of steel wool and a pair of tweezers to suture the wounds in a crude but effective manner. His t-shirt was halfway on when he realized that Sarah was no longer watching the street, but watching him. He paused, holding the two ends of his shirt right above his stomach.

"What?" She asked.

"Didn't know you had such a keen interest in anatomy, Sarah," he replied, narrowing his eyes at her as he smirked.

"I'm making sure you're in fit condition," she explained, "that's all." He kept smirking. She frowned. "If you keep doing that, I'm going to kick you so hard, you'll be singing soprano." He stopped smirking, and she smiled. He finished redressing, then slipped back into his power armor.

"I'm guessing you didn't come all the way out here because you were worried. What's going on?" he asked.

"My father wants to see you as soon as possible. I came to collect you," she revealed.

"You volunteered?"

"No. Drew the short straw. Any other questions? No? Good. Come on." He did, and they started off for the Citadel.

The Elder's age was showing when Thomas met with him. His steps were slow and infirm, but he refused any aid from Star Paladin Cross. When he found his seat in the Great Hall, he dismissed her, and she took up position outside the door to bar entrance. This was a meeting for these two men and these two men alone.

"Take a seat, my child. I do not mind," he said, gesturing to any of the open chairs in the room.

"I prefer to stand Elder," Thomas replied.

"Ah yes of course," he took a deep breath. "I apologize. At my age, a chair is a welcome relief."

"You don't look a day over seventy-five to me, Elder," Thomas smirked.

"Heh. The flattery is not necessary, my child. I am well aware of my age and the limitations it puts on me. Not even the strongest of us can resist the pull of time..." He seemed to drift in thought for a moment before returning to the matter at hand. "I digress. I did not recall you to the Citadel for pleasant conversation. There is something I need from you."

"Anything Elder," Thomas replied. Elder Lyons responded by pushing a file across the table which Thomas picked up. The words TOP SECRET were burned in bright red lettering across the front cover. Beneath them was the badge of the Joint Chiefs of Staff, with a little-dotted line underneath and a few words.

"The Arsenal of Democracy?" He asked, bewildered.

"Yes. We found that file in our archives recently. We believe it to be the codename for a military installation of some kind. Most of the contents were irrecoverable, but we did manage to get some useful information from it. We believe it is underneath the Washington Navy Yard, intact." He emphasized the last word.

"What's in it?" Thomas asked, flipping through the file.

"If I knew that, we would not be having this conversation. I want you to investigate it."

"You mean the Pride?"

"If I wanted the Pride to do it, I would be telling Sarah this, not you. No, I need them in case there is an emergency. We have far too much on our plate at the moment. I'm content to leave Talon Company to the Regulators, but that still leaves us with the Super Mutants. Not to mention the Outcasts. We don't have the manpower to spare at the moment."

"You think I do?"

Elder Lyons frowned and crinkled his wrinkly brow. "I may be old but I am not foolish. You have allies, willing and able to assist you, and your own stock of supplies to support the expedition. Before you say anything else, Star Paladin Cross has already volunteered to go with you." There was an affirmative knock on the entrance door.

"And if someone on the Pride gets hurt while I'm gone?"

"They survived before they had a medic. I am certain they will survive without one for a time." Thomas thought about that for a moment, wondering if that was an insult. He decided that given who it was he was talking to, it probably wasn't, and moved on.

"All right. I guess it's not a problem. I'll need a few days to get my team together and to map out a route, but I don't think it'll be a problem."

"Good," Elder Lyons nodded. "In that case, there is one other matter I'd like to discuss with you. Actually, it would be more accurate to say I need to ask you something."

"Anything."

"I require an honest answer, my child," Elder Lyons added, in a way which Thomas found rather puzzling.

"I've never lied to you before, Elder. I don't see why I would start now.."

"All right, what is your opinion of Arthur Maxson?" He asked. Thomas didn't reply immediately. Not because it was a hard question or one he had to think about, just because it was one of those out of left field kind of questions.

"Uh... Fine I guess?" he finally said. Lyons made a gesture with his hands to elaborate. "He's a good kid. Well-meaning, if a little naive. His devotion to the Brotherhood of Steel borders on fanatical, but given his family name, I guess that's not surprising. From what Sarah tells me, his marksmanship's pretty good for his age, though not spectacular. I could shoot better with my BB gun when I was his age. There's nothing really exceptional about him, though he certainly is determined to change that. Why do you ask?"

"I want to make him your apprentice," Lyons declared. Thomas blinked.

"What?"

"And I want you to take him with you to find this installation."

"Elder, I really don't think that's a good idea. He's a child..."

"So were you when you joined us."

"I'm serious! He's twelve! If he were older, say sixteen or seventeen, I might be okay with this, but he's twelve. He's not even a teenager yet." A silence hung over the room for a moment, then Elder Lyons sighed.

"My child, please understand. I am not forcing this onto you. I am asking you to take him on as your apprentice."

"Okay. I refuse."

"Let me finish," Elder Lyons said firmly. "Arthur is one of the last descendants of the first family of the Brotherhood of Steel. His mother and father, Jessica and Jonathan, were good people. I daresay they were some of the finest the Brotherhood of Steel had to offer this world. When his father died, Jessica sent him here, to serve under me. A few months after that, she too passed away. I promised her I would shape him into a fine young man, one worthy of his family name..." He sighed again, "that is no longer a promise I can keep. I am old, feeble, some might even say incapable. Needless to say, I'm not able to care for him anymore. Sarah does her best, but she is needed in the field more often than not. When she assumes the post of Elder, I cannot see his situation improving. Within these walls, he learns very little. The few times we let him go outside he only catches glimpses of the wasteland. He doesn't comprehend the magnitude of what is out there or what the people face. He knows nothing of their struggles. Truthfully, he knows nothing at all. You can teach him though. You can show him the wasteland as few others could. You could make him understand what it is we are fighting for!" He concluded with that statement, before adding softly. "At the very least, you could provide guidance to a child in desperate need of it."

Thomas had stood there and listened to the entire speech without moving a muscle, and now that it was over, he still didn't move a muscle. He didn't know how to respond to any of that. He was essentially being asked to be a big brother for a kid he barely knew. He didn't like this plan one bit, so why was he having such a hard time mustering up the strength just to say no? Perhaps it's because they did have one thing in common. He couldn't be sure, but it seemed that maybe Elder Lyons had picked up on it, and that's why he was being given this assignment in the first place.

They were both, in different but similar ways, strangers in a strange land without family to guide them. Perhaps in that regard, they were brothers.

With that in mind, he swallowed his pride.

"Where is he?"