Dr. Ayo wasn't particularly well liked among his colleagues, but he was respected. It was no surprise that he was given the job of acting head of the Synth Retention Bureau when Zimmerman went missing, and it was only a little surprising when he was given control over the Institute's newest project, VI-29. It was decided that while the current coursers were effective, they were having trouble with recent missions that required infiltration. Their brute strength and sharp cunning were great in battle, but their dull eyes and duller personalities were not so good at tricking the regular folk of the Commonwealth into thinking they were one of them. Normally they'd use a regular model synth for these tasks, but often it was required to have the increased strength and battle prowess of a courser that the base models didn't have. Of course, Ayo was all too eager to remedy this. He had been nearly caught up on his work at the time and was looking for something new, and this project tickled his brain in just the right way.

And so, authorization was given to the doctor to begin formulating a courser that would circumvent the issues that the others could not.

"Women are much more sympathetic, especially attractive ones!" He told his assistants with exuberance as they calibrated the synth extruder to his specifications. They nodded in agreement, not really hearing him. The small man paced a bit as the final details were secured in the machine's memory and it hummed to life, the overhead lights dimming for a second as the generators compensated for the extra strain. Ayo had gone over the details a hundred times, but he still worried that things might not be perfect.

Enormous spinning rings flew around a pond of organic and inorganic material, building up layers one by one over a metal skeleton that housed all the inner workings that would make Ayo's synth tick. He watched greedily, bony fingers twitching with excitement as the body began to take shape. First it looked like a half melted candle stick, but soon enough there began to be the telltale curves of a female form being molded into the still pliable material. Arms, thick legs, a head, and at the very end the synth was given a face. She looked just how he had hoped, and the two young assistants standing at the control terminal couldn't help but notice how he stared at it with laser focus and a bead of sweat on his upper lip. They both grew a tad uncomfortable, because he tended to look this way before an angry outburst, but were relieved when he gave them the rest of the day off for a job well done. On their way out, however, they felt even more uneasy. Ayo was a stickler for work and not once had they ever heard of him sending anyone away early.

"Designation VI-29, ready." A female voice said, sounding a little robotic. Ayo made a note to tinker with her vocal modulator later.

Being away from the Institute was a welcome respite for VI-29, sweltering heat aside. She'd grown accustomed to the wasteland's weather quickly, finding it a bit less oppressive somehow than the icy air conditioning of home, but it didn't stop her skin from itching as sweat grew under her clothes and chafed her. Cambridge wasn't far, she reminded herself. The idea of a break in the shade was growing too enticing to ignore, and it was important to keep her mind straight. Rests were not part of the mission. She was to find Arcjet and oversee the Institute's operation there to completion, nothing more.

The city skyline was looming now, sitting silently in its death as it had been for two hundred years. She swallowed, her throat dry. She didn't need to drink, but it sure would be welcome right now. VI-29 fingered her laser rifle with boredom as she instinctively took a left turn into the cracked road toward her destination. Except, the sound of laser weapons much like her own in the opposite direction drew her attention. Not just anyone could acquire such weapons, and there had been a research team deployed not far from here that no one had heard from recently. Her directive took second place to helping her fellow Institute brethren, if only for the moment. If they were in distress, Ayo would be most pleased that his creation had been the one to rescue the little eggheads from their fate as mutant chow.

VI-29 changed course to head toward the sounds of battle, weapon raised. Her arms seemed to move on their own, and maybe they did. She was programmed to act quickly in times of violence, not taught like a human would be. Sometimes it was unnerving how her body just reacted to things without her consent, but alas that was just how it was for her. She was a believer that one could fight all they want and never overcome their nature.

As she walked, she was careful to tune out all extraneous thoughts and focus on the high pitched choo choo noise made by the laser weapons in the distance. They were fairly steady and regular, and as she drew nearer to their source her keenly tuned ears were able to hear the telltale noise of ghouls. She wrinkled her nose in disgust; filthy creatures they were. Readjusting her rifle in her arms as one might rebalance a swaddled infant, VI-29 ducked into an alley between two crumbling buildings. Hopefully taking a side street would give her the drop on the situation rather than having to run through a barrage of biters before getting to the research team. Idiots, she snarled to herself. How could they have gotten themselves into such a predicament?

The sounds of fighting grew to a fever pitch as she snaked through alleys piled high with rubble and rot, and a few minutes later she was sure she was just one turn away from the scene of the action. Pressing her back against the cool brick of a prewar police station, according to the navigation chip implanted in her brain anyway, she gave her weapon a last check to make sure it was hot before swinging around the bend and charging in.

From that moment on, her thinking brain mostly shut off and handed the reins to her combat initiatives. While not aware of her actions like she would be if she were petting a dog or taking a drink of water, her awareness was a bit hazy as if watching a movie from the back of an audience. VI-29 knew what she was doing, but her body mostly did it all without asking. The swimming sounds of unfamiliar voices in her peripheral were secondary to eliminating the immediate threat, which was currently lunging at her face and screaming so wildly flecks of foul spittle sprayed her face. An absent, strange thought occurred to her. Don't really mind a bit of a hose down in this heat.

"Civilian in range, check your fire!"

That was definitely not something an Institute scientist would say, or even their escort. For a single second the veil of fight, fight, kill! was lifted and the synth realized she was not in the company she'd expected. Stupid! Stupid! Stupid! Her cover was surely blown. As soon as the thought occurred, it was shoved into a filing cabinet for later inspection as another flailing ghoul met its end at the mean side of her laser rifle and disintegrated into a pile of stinking ash and goo at her feet.

She could no longer hear the fire of other weapons or the snarling of attackers, but when a heavy metal hand clasped her shoulder she spun with the quickness of a jungle cat and jammed the hot barrel of her gun under the stranger's chin, only to be met with the mechanical noise of laser weapons spinning up for another barrage.

"I wouldn't." An aggressive second voice barked from the top of the stairs that led to the building entrance.

Her fighting instincts slunk away into the inky blackness of her brain and she realized what she was doing, With a sharp shrug to dislodge the hand and several cautious steps back, VI-29 took in the group that she had helped. They certainly were not who she had expected them to be, but her data banks held no mention of any faction that wore the types of uniforms the two standing on the steps wore, and the power armor that their leader wore wasn't tied to any specific group. Raiders and lucky wastelanders alike wore it often enough. If the Institute was aware of these people, they had not deemed it urgent enough to add it to her memory. The idea was maddening, but she kept her pale round face still as stone.

"Apologies for startling you, civilian," the man in armor started, thick brows furrowing into a glare that made her feel like she'd done something wrong, "And not that we don't appreciate the assistance, but what's your business here?"

The synth nearly snorted. Did he not expect anyone to show up with all that racket they were making? She retained her composure however, and instead made to relax her arms and appear less of a threat. As she did so, so did the pair standing behind them.

"I heard the gunfire from a ways away and felt inclined to help." She said cooly, not blinking. She forgot to do that sometimes when in conversation.

"Then that sets you above the rest of the people out here. I apologize if I seem suspicious, but our mission so far here in the Commonwealth has been a difficult one."

Instantly, her ears perked up. So willingly offering information? She wouldn't interrupt. The man then went on to tell her about how his group, the Brotherhood of Steel, had recently arrived from the Capital Wasteland in order to...prevent a second extinction event by gathering up all the tech they could? It sounded like a stupid plot to her, but she didn't stop him. Perhaps her superiors would be interested in this information. The conversation was going well enough until the ferret-faced woman on the steps chimed in to inform her leader that they needed a way to boost their distress signal to alert their fellows to their location. He nodded gravely, and things went a bit hazy as he continued on to say that the exact piece of tech they needed was nearby- in Arcjet Systems.

VI-29's stomach felt like it had dropped out of her belly and onto the floor. She would have to kill this poor man, and perhaps his companions as well if they made themselves troublesome. She never liked dragging others into her business, especially when it was going to end badly for them.

"Judging from the way you handled yourself just now, you may be of great use. Haylen will need to stay behind and tend to Rhys' injuries and it'd be a fool's mission to go alone. This is irregular, but I would ask you if you could lend your aid once more."

In the few seconds it took for him to finish speaking, the courser's brain had thought of fifty different scenarios and all of them unfortunately ended with his death. At least, she thought, she would not need to kill his companions.

"I will accompany you." She said, feeling a bit sad for him. He had no idea.

"Excellent. You can resupply inside and-"

"I do not need supplies." She said simply.

"Oh. I suppose we can leave immediately then. The sooner this is done the sooner we can get evac, anyway."

Grimly and with some regret, VI-29 spun on her boot heel and strode easily in the direction of Arcjet. She needed no guidance, even if it had been dark outside instead of early afternoon, and it seemed like it surprised the man as he lingered behind for a few seconds before following