Boom!
In his onyx shaded holding room Alex had disassociated himself with everything around him until they came, caught staring aimlessly on the rickety bed they'd provided for him since the day before yesterday.
He'd barely moved then; stunned to a point of speechlessness, couldn't attempt to move now even as the door opened allowing the three expectant-imposing fatigued brothers inside to witness him being so pathetic.
"Just like Kodiak said, dead weight" one of them, he couldn't figure since the lack of gear said, only to be lightly ribbed by the one he knew, sentinel Lyons as their centre.
"You don't look healthy is what he means" Lyon offered in her strangely mild tone, securing him in the knowledge that he wasn't the only one who could smell the stink from under his unwashed fatigues. He'd looked in the mirror too sometime the night before as well, all he'd seen was a wrecked face covered in curling stubble and remnant dirt and filth.
"We'll need to get you cleaned up" the sentinel insisted after he just starred pathetically at her in return, "You can't go before the best of the brotherhood looking like a too well shelled waster."
Funny that was how he felt, not shaken handed or prone to fits of seizure or psychosis in that sense of PTSD, dulled and lame just like he'd seen in Ramona, whenever she hadn't been frantic and weird.
He couldn't argue; he was in the bowels of brotherhood power the citadel, the massive superstructure that predated the war but in the rare fashion of being a military installation. He could go on about his days after embarrassing himself in front of the command, shuffling off back to Megaton and joining Jericho in drinking away his horrors-maybe.
Except that man had real pains even; self-inflicted as they were. Thirty odd years on the raid, what had Alex had went through? A dead father; dead friends, betrayed by the rest, it paled in comparison to any waster aged beyond the ability to speak had went through, but here he was-getting soaked and scrubbed like an invalid by three people who'd been fighting a brutal rearguard war for as long as they'd been able.
"Don't worry kid, all you need to do is get through this meeting" he was promised by Colvin, one of the men he'd met in the GNR plaza, who'd helped strip him from the dusty coloured surplus fatigue's he'd worn for what smelt like days down into nothing but his underwear, who looked worriedly over to the sentinel.
That was the point he stopped them, "I'll do it myself" he had to say while backing off from them to a small washroom that had once been a utility cupboard, the room he was in was having the relative luxury of being singular and having its own small jury rigged facilities, "Just give me a minute" he insisted, he wasn't going to be nursed like an invalid, he was still alive! And he needed to remember that.
"Alright kid. Just remember that we only need you presentable, this isn't some fancy how to do up in the fort" Colvin joked, Alex didn't even fake a smile and instead went to the faucet, glad that he was shielded away from the two well maintained brothers and their captain 'brother' sentinel.
He had to present a remnant of what his father had fought for; project purity, he had to look like someone who'd trekked the wastes to find his father, not the slobbering babe who'd holed up in his room for two days because he couldn't handle it.
He felt like the babe, right now-since the moment he'd broke through the tunnel labyrinth to the security of the brotherhood lines, he couldn't eat where he'd been ravenous in the past weeks, couldn't drink an ounce of purified water that was as precious as the black oil had been in the former days.
Just how the hell was he meant to help convince the brotherhood to fight a newer; better equipped and elite enemy, right when they were yielding to the super mutant assault.
"Why should they fight? What's so bad about the enclave, they asked for the code to the purifier-shot someone for it-but this is the wastelands. What's the difference between one military force shooting wastelanders and another?" He'd argued against Elder Lyons when he had taken him aside, two days ago that felt at least a month.
The permanent press of the man's eyes had went knitted, fierce like a holo-shot of the pre-war snow leopard's he'd loved to flick through in 101's natural history records.
"I don't like that accusation, but I'll forgive it because you've just lost your father" Lyon's had warned him in a tone as fierce as the paladin who'd cursed him and Gunney after they'd led a trio of super mutants against the monuments safety, before it softened slightly "The enclave will use your fathers work to undo everything we've been fighting for, everything my men have scarified for"
He'd seen the fanatic belief in the white stricken eyes then, the very same as his father's when they blazed for purity, "Help me save my work and your fathers dream boy, become the man."
He'd regressed into a pitiful mess since then, didn't realise he'd stopped washing his face and underarms until Colvin came around the curve of the room to prod him again
"Are you fit?" He wasn't, his head ached and he felt soiled still, "Yes." He lied, knew he wouldn't get any better, James had always said it was better to get on half at your best to get back to it, Alex always preferred to bury himself in covers and beg Amata to bring him ice cream.
It was an age since those days; he'd probably shot or shot at as many people as he'd ever known in 101, the big green ulgie's included with everything else in the hellhole wastes.
He was given fresh fatigue's; from the brotherhoods own stock, the dullest grey he could imagine crossed with speckles of faint blues, "You've got your armour here haven't you?" Lyons asked him from the doorway, "Yeah, over in the corner" he'd left his gear in a pile in the farthest corner, a set of post-war body armour, coated green plates of fabricated metal that protected his vitals over the regular fatigues, chest; back, thighs and shins, forearms and a sort of roughly fashioned coif for his neck.
"Put it on. If you go into the meeting looking like you've got the crap kicked out of you then you'll be more attractive to the paladins" She advised. He'd definitely have the look, running through the tunnels had left him tripping and falling through the sewage and whatever gutting he'd done to the ghoul's that he'd crossed paths with.
Gunney had put in for the armour for him, left him sucking in a tight breath as he remembered sitting under the gratings of the memorial, hearing the black scaled bastards gloat over one of the targets-'The bulky yellow one' losing his arms to the socket from a plasma discharge.
He'd still be living and protecting merchants on the northern ring if Alex hadn't begged and cajoled him into heading for the DC ruins, dying armless in the Potomac, unable to swim or save himself.
His stomach lurched as he finished, his jaw morphing into a vice, who could he be madder with, the enclave or himself?
Colvin reminded him to sling his pistol into his underarm holster, the browning M2 pistol being the only weapon surviving his escape from the Jefferson memorial, "You look like a wastelander now kid. Too bad about the hair-far too bouncy" the bright faced man joked leaving him to shake his head, wanting to humour the man with smile but couldn't quite manage it, "Time to face the music, by god and brotherhood I hope its sweet" Colvin announced, while Alex preferred short and merciful.
Greying and faded; the innards of the brotherhoods powerbase was as dreary and depressing as any other place Alex had experienced in the wastelands, with the exception of being strict and monitored as opposed the organised chaos of Rivet city's leaky gangways. There was none of the heavy stomping of power armour in the hallways, but rather trim men and women hurrying for the most to and fro through the corridors and into a myriad of rooms, some he could see that were set up as classrooms while others held a more workroom element to them.
They were an institution for war and not much else he knew, and could see it in every member whether they were red robed and scientific, or a younger member, who all wore some fashion of laser pistol or conventional weapon, seemingly ready at all times to resist violence.
His father had told him that the brotherhood chiefly hunt down any piece of available technology that has military usage, in order to contest with the mutant scourge as they called it.
"Must not be much fun to be had around here" Alex deadpanned while they finished their reversal into the upper reaches of the vast complex, Colvin and the other man-who he reasoned to be Vargas smirked, "We have our fun out in the wastes gutting greenies" the sentinel replied easily but with a smile tugging at the corners of her mouth, up until she noticed his hands balling into fists.
Had he been breathing stubbornly again he wondered? She noticed immediately and asked her fellows to move on ahead, "Are you ready?" she asked, prompting him to wonder was she like her father or with him even in whatever schism they had fell under.
He suddenly felt bad at having been so aimless the past two days, he was walking in blind to this conference or whatever it was, a gathering of the higher echelon from the brotherhood. Lyon's had briefed him either, but what could he expect from a military man on politics save for half meant condemnations on men and women who'd fought and bled for him these last years.
"I don't know" he answered back pitifully, refusing to look her in the eye, you lot haven't even told me what's going on! He thought "What am I even doing here?" but said instead.
Lyon's narrowed her eyes if only slightly, before pushing out a patient breath, "I can't tell you much more than what you have been before" she insisted between her narrowing brow, "You're the only reliable survivor of the enclave attack, you're the person we have who knows best about what your fathers work was. You're the person who'll need to convince some of these bucketheads that it's in our best interests to fight the black masks"
"Oh right. And I'm meant to do that how?" he was being smart and she'd had enough practise with recruits to know it, she surprised him in the tight corridor on the bend to a second floor stairwell by shoving him not kindly into the thick wall behind.
Trained; wiry and well honed, sentinel Lyons by her look made him consider not even a second thought of attempting to pull himself free from her grip, facing her eye to eye only he saw the steely determination behind her eyes, realised he'd only be able to meet it with petulance.
"Listen to me" she ordered him tightly, her fists still full of his collars and shirt "My father told me the stories about this enclave bastards; I've known them since I was a child-but some of these men are so tired that their willing to throw everything he's worked for away just to gut the muties". she released him abruptly, "If you're not willing to help him fight the men who killed your father, then go back to your room and mope"
"I wasn't moping!" he snarled back with only enough control not to do what he wouldn't have considered a moment ago, enraged at her idea, "You try and lose your father-see how well you hold up"
The sentinel put her hands up, chocked her head and asked slowly "You're this angry for me even suggesting that you'd rather sit around and sob; rather than get the bastards who killed your father. And you're going to tell me that you don't want to?"
He suddenly felt sheepish, angry still but somewhat foolish, was he acting rationally? "I don't know what I'm meant to do. Why would anyone of the brotherhood care what I have to say?"
If she was unsure Lyon's didn't show it, "We're stuck in the same camps we've been five years ago, my father thinks your father could have turned the neutrals had he been here-doesn't think you could manage to do any less." It was as good a vote of confidence he'd ever received, not many had been forthcoming from any authority figure he'd even been in the midst off, "Can you really turn down the brotherhood of steels elder, I've seen you shoot kid" she baited him suddenly, an effort to diffuse the tension.
He realised that these people had taken him in all of a sudden, the room he really had moped in; the stolen scotch he'd sipped on, necked and then hurled against a wall had been their gift of the elder-something he'd initially taken as a cheap gesture of familiarity with his father.
That headache was back and he felt like an ass, the sentinel expectant before him should have maybe done more than just rebuke him, though he was thankful his shamelessness had overtaken the morbid thoughts that hid in every recess.
"I'm ready, I'll go and speak" he told her definitively, it'd take his mind off things and who knows, maybe he could get these bucketheads to fight the other blacker bucketheads, maybe even get a chance to kill one himself.
"Straight to the conference room then" she announced and led on, leaving him to follow her in her slight but empowering wake.
The room that held the debate was one of the larger rooms of the main floor that he could remember from some schematics he'd looked over in his pre-flight daze, side by side people to the number of thirty could have filled inside not a problem, the room itself boring and square at any estimation.
The sound inside bore his mind to other estimations however, as there was a clamour inside akin to the worst of the 101 committee disputes before the overseer had done away with them early on in his living there, he shared a look with the sentinel as they approached Vargas and Colvin.
"That's my father's voice alright" Lyon's pointed out Alex rightly thought didn't need to be, he'd heard enough of the man's calm through steely tones to know his voice, never had heard it so loud and commanding, shouting down unruly paladins which was clear even through the narrow doorway.
"It's Rufio again, Telron's with him in force" Vargas intoned gravely, obviously it wasn't an isolated incident of her father having to resort to this sort of barrelling.
"What's going on?" he asked concerned, interrupted by another voice likely use to command snapping at a milder set of outspoken voices. "My father allows his men to speak their minds-unfortunately. This is the result" Sentinel informed him not proudly, "That was okay; we got rid of the dissenter-traitors years ago, but the enclave…well now the men don't see a reason to fight alone against the mutants anymore, at least alone." The words sank in quickly.
"An alliance? No you can't be serious" Alex asked seriously, shocked "They know they shot an innocent city citizen in cold blood? How can they even think about an alliance-I thought you people fought for-"
"We know what we fight for kid" Colvin interrupted him abruptly, though not quite sharply "It's not always easy to stay on the line we've followed, as our numbers dwindle and our brothers die people forget about saving people who do nothing but accuse them and take pot shots when the chance appears" Vargas give him a look that said he agreed, "We're balancing on a pin here Alex, the tip is between abandoning DC and continuing towards other areas less infested, or fighting it out to our end or the mutants"
"But the enclave's appearance has put both those aims in doubt" the sentinel finished for her immediate underling, "There well equipped and at least similar to us in the way of tactics and being-well, human. It goes without saying that some people in the brotherhood have assumed that a pre-war government faction would want to rebuild the old world"
Alex nodded his head in understanding and crossed his garbed arms, "So why wouldn't they help you fight the mutants" he gathered a thread from the dissenters thought process. "Why won't your father simply take the chance on them" he mock asked.
The noise abated somewhat, Alex turned from the trio and noticed Elder Lyon's was now standing and out of the room peering towards them, a show of respect for a senior figure standing he reasoned. The elder approached him serene but oddly animated under his thick cobalt coiled robes, his eyes were gauging him and Alex stiffened unconsciously.
"My boy; it is a fine sight to see you on your feet" The Elder greeted him with genuine warmth, Alex realised that for people of his age or similar he'd usually only earned ire. His attitude wasn't great towards those less limber Mr Brotch had warned him, "You're feeling better then?" he queried at Alex's small smile.
He really was for that moment, the charge in the air or some positivity startling him from his foul mood in part. "I'm feeling…alright sir. I don't think I'll be my most charming though" Lyon's smiled tightly, his myriad of wrinkles betrayed his extreme age "My boy; anyone who doesn't skulk about in power armour all day is always a diplomat in these halls. Speak from your heart; tell them of the enclave and their barbarism, of your father's great works and sacrifice-make them understand what we fight for"
No pressure he thought, smiling lightly before masking his face in a guise of neutrality, his skin prickling underneath his 'soldier suit' as he moved into the press. There was no artificially thick shoulders encased in dust scarred suits; everyone together wore the common red scribe robes, exclusively brotherhood 'rear echelon' grey and speckle blue fatigues, some wore training or mechanic overalls.
All of them were pressed together around a long and winding pronged table which sat Elder Lyon at its connecting bridge, Rothchild upon his left while a hawk faced paladin of a veterans ages sat upon his right. Alex was directed around the table and into everyone's focus by Colvin who without tact continually prodded him with fingers he'd dubbed 'the claw'-half heard in his ear as he fought the urge to jump forward.
When Alex reached the 'ending' of the prongs Elder Lyon's started again, the vault dweller in him noted the fine sheen on the table even considering it was pre-war, "Brothers; sisters, all of you my friends in arms these many long years of trial. Before us we have a grave matter, something which has split us through the ranks it seems" the man paid due diligence to every set of gazing eyes to install some function of remembrance within them, "Every man who has spoken today has done so through half remembered tales; supposition and even daring hope. The man before you has seen them in their armoured press; fought against them, saw them murder callously, he will be our witness today-present yourself as you please" The head of the brotherhood took a swift seat, only a flash of uncomfortable pain crossing his face for a moment, Alex must have been the only one who caught it.
Everyone else in the room was staring intently at him.
"Yes well, as introduced, I'm Alexander Dawkins. And I'm from vault 101" He near bit out his tongue as he said the words; saw the bewilderment on some faces and Colvin's sheepish grin trying to hide behind a rubbing hand. He continued on as he had to, rolling over years in vault 101 in a sentence; a breath here for his escape and entry to Megaton, two more for his time across the wastelands in the caravans searching for his father.
It was all so pointless to these hard faces and lucid gazes that he skimmed over the proving point of his life to date, a kind of proving point in itself for what his experience to date had really meant. The thought foundered in the back of his mind until he felt his voice getting smaller, skimming Gunney's penetration of the Jefferson memorial onto Braun's vault, a belated mention of reaching his father and their return to Rivet City.
He hadn't even mentioned Indri, he wouldn't have too until he related the enclave cutting her down in the memorial.
The fact that they had ran through mercenaries meant nothing, everything up to the point where he brought up the super mutants seemed to glaze the eyes and make thoughts wander.
The hawk eyed paladin peeked at that, precisely when Alex skimmed the assault on the memorial, holding up a hand to stall him, "That was something I wondered about. Just how exactly did you and your father get past the mutants in the memorial and surrounding area? Our scouts reported numbers in excess of forty at the last report". Alex was glad to see someone finally took something of what he said onboard, perhaps it was a way for him to give them a rise.
"We didn't do it alone sir, actually my father didn't do any of the fighting, the man made his across the entirety of the old country, he could hide from himself if he had too" Alex told them without knowing if it was pride or not. "Knowing that I'm here with one third of the Rivet city council, you'd guess I was known by the rest. I managed to convince-or rather warn the security officers that a heavily armoured super mutant patrol might be joining those in the memorial force."
"Naturally the city council was alarmed that they might become isolated from their trading if the super mutant prescience continued" the paladin inclined his head, the man was attentive as his look suggested, "I convinced them that they should emplace men upon the far deck of their ships, using high calibre rifles and an old pre-war HMG. Chief Harkin had the idea of concealing men in the natural ridgeline of buildings across from the laneway onto the ship that they had scouted out."
"You drew them into an ambush then?" he asked, and Alex noted he had been taking notes on some almost pristine paper, "We did, myself; Gunney of who I've spoke, another wastelander named Indri and a mercenary team that went by the name sigma" Alex answered, the tension again building in his stomach.
Sigma, fucking pricks!
"We began by destroying a group in a large apartment building intersecting the roadway from the memorial to the city, smoked them out with flares and cut through them with automatic shotguns and high calibre rifles at close range" It was a pleasant memory for what it was, he hated mutants and ingrained into his head through the banging of the M14 rifle he'd used from a distance no farther than thirty yards.
"We got perhaps eight of them without return, retreated back towards the city as the mutants in the memorial picked up on it" Hawk inclined his head in appreciation.
"What was the state of their equipment?" he was asked by the sentinel now in the throng on the left, "Assault rifles and crude melee weapons for the most to them at the beginning. We encountered heavier firepower at their counterattack" her fair eyebrow peaked up "eight mutants with no reply? How'd you manage that at close quarters?"
Alex had to drive home a point before he disclosed something he'd buried for the part, "The mercenary leader Lawson had thought about our positioning, two lines at a vantage just beyond the building with firing calls."
"So the mutants got big and green and angry, followed you back up in force?" the hawk asked, "Gave them enough rope to hang themselves sir. They had miniguns and a shoulder launcher, didn't matter" Alex replied in a tone he thought wouldn't hurt for the militant types in the gathering.
It had cost three lives from the security force and a man from sigma, "I have to say that we went on and cleared out the memorial of another eight mutant's sir, switched out our rifles for jackhammers courtesy of the city. We'd broken their armoured back against the city once we drew them in, just about had to peel them off the walls in the memorial" No one minded the gruesome thought, he pressed on with clearing the memorial out.
It was as any in the wasteland a story of triumph really, going from vault 101 all across the wasteland, to DC and finally in the heart of the brotherhood, he didn't want to include what had happened in the memorial, but it would be a sin to forget his father or his sacrifice.
He started with the ingenious use of a heavy lifting pulleybot still in operation to drag the mutants into one concealable pit, the general state of repairs, leading to his trip through the stunted pipes of the memorial itself.
Then he told them about the vertibird's and the black armoured troopers, 'some post-war fabrication' Rothchild had interrupted unhappily, bursting out across the overrun tarmac to no resistance from the sigma outlook Wurtz.
What could he have done he'd reasoned at the time? Of course what would he have done, enclave as he had been, what had any of them did even as one of the black masked bastards had taken Gunney's arm from his shoulder, they'd drank and fought and survived with the man!
Alex had found his tongue tied almost to knots as he described the attack, the paladins wanting details of tactics and weaponry, where he could only say 'that black armour that sometimes crackled as Gunney's bullets hit' or 'plasma weapons that sling blots thick as a super mutant-had taken Gunney's arm through his plating without resistance'.
His father's death wasn't glossed over but it came out rushed all the same, his reason; his entire life, forced from the man as colonel Autumn's bullet scattered Janice's cognitive matter across the purifier's floor.
Rothchild saw further perhaps, 'How could enclave men blend in, why would they want them too?'
Alex knew Lawson well enough, it wasn't all an act from the calm; almost passive mercenary captain who was in actuality an enclave captain, had he killed Indri as well? Her count was low in rads naturally…
Elder Lyons could have primed him for it Alex suspected, because just then Elder Lyon's pinned in from where he had sat mutely as he drifted "A pertinent question scribe Rothchild. Tell me Alexander, why does the enclave strike first for your fathers work?"
The implication behind the question was there indeed, why did the advanced, superior post-war force want some long infested memorial before a critical blow against either force capable of resisting them?
"I would say water sir, simply water."
"You'll need to do a spot better than that" the Hawk advised seriously, "We all appreciate a man who can lay waste to mutants in good fashion, but we need to know why we should turn our guns on the enclave."
"As I said, Water, no radiation or sickness, no muck to let diseases stew and breed, a very simple idea that has far reaching consequences" Alex told them, feeling resolute at the summoning of his father's dream. "It's the very bedrock of life yet there isn't a single source of it for six hundred miles at least. Men kill each other day by day just to get their hands on another man's lightly irradiated water, who here hasn't heard of an entire town being wiped out by slavers or raiders; mercenaries or even desperate men for a water purifier?"
"What exactly is so important about this purified itself?" Hawk asked, "Is it the scale itself? Or are we talking something more?"
"Something far, far more I assure you, something worth the enclave showing their hand" Alex could feel so actual enthusiasm in the room, beyond perhaps what he'd seen in the eyes of the warriors on the mention of the fight with the mutants, "The scale on my father's original projections, water that you could lift out and barrel up? Enough for the brotherhood itself for five years for each and every member counted within six months of purifying and with suitable manpower" More peaking heads.
"Beyond that, you're talking about the eventual effective removing of irradiation from the tidal basin within the year, a gradual expansion following through the Potomac as the winds and rain does its job."
"Clean and healthy water, that much" one scribe asked from the far corner near Rothchild, "some very interesting implications. Suitable for drinking; cooking, cleaning and washing, body hygiene cries out for it alone" the man joked, but a soldier tight faced and rigid countered immediately.
"I'm paladin Ruffio" He started in a dry tone, "as most of you well know; even if some of you don't want to know" some light humour invaded the room, and then escaped just as quickly "I'm here because I've fought long and hard to rid the ruins of the green menace. Fought as hard and as long as anyone- that goes for the pride or whoever" Alex saw Lyon's; both of them narrow their eyes but the man continued apace, "I've heard of wastelander deaths; regrettable-I've even heard of what your father did, a brave thing if he felt he needed to save the work he was doing…your water" Alex tensed as he caught the indication behind the man's placating, insulting tone.
"I've not heard why we should fight. Not you; you've got your reasons, maybe so do Rivet and the relatives of Gunney-or Indri or Janice, but what does that constitute to the brotherhood except more deaths in a hostile warzone?" The man sat to the left of the table, Vargas almost fought forward to yank him from his seat "Those people died for what the brotherhood believes in Rufio! Show some damn respect" the man was livid, Elder Lyon shouted him down to restrain his emotions, but Rufio neither flinched nor turned.
He went further, "The mutants grow in strength, how many have we all combined to gut? At least twice our number when we were at full strength, which was many; many years ago. Now we're talking about fighting a group technologically superior, advanced beyond our comprehension! And for what- a few dead wastelanders?" the room erupted again, more violent this time to include the pride amassed o the left struggling to accuse Rufio, of being malicious or uncaring or what they said in a snarl – 'outcast'
"Why didn't you go with the rest of the traitors!" Vargas shouted within the confines of the prides entangling arms, but Rufio turned this time "What, I lose my brothers day after day! And for what, those bastards out there scraping rocks together for fire? Any one of them with a gun is either a raider or a slaver-the rest are useless, waiting for the last dogtag to fall trophy!"
"Paladin Vargas! Paladin Rufio! Restrain yourselves" the hawk ordered above the din, commanding it twice over before the men relented and the clamour died down to small jibes and insults.
Rufio wasn't done by any estimation, pushing himself free "they haven't attacked us; haven't barraged us with scowls and bullets like some of these raider bastards and slavers have, haven't shuffled away from us in distaste like the ordinary rock banging wasters. There closer to us in my eyes than the wretches we have to fight daily just to save daily. I say we look at this enclave the way we should do. As allies who could tip us over the edge against the mutants, aren't they here to rebuild America?"
Alex now see the depth of the schism, scribes and paladins had decried each other from every part of the room at the threat of a scuffle, Alex hadn't improved the argument for fighting the enclave, he needed something to at least upset Rufio's ideal.
Why should they fight for his father's doomed project at the edge of the Potomac, against a force who seemed more like them than the people who they were fighting to protect?
"The brotherhood's core benefit" he mouthed out far too loudly, gaining a glance from some faces that had turned away from the powder keg in the corner.
"You said something Alexander" the elder asked and Alex nodded resolutely, Rufio and Vargas turned giving him a moment. He knew what he had to say, or rather do. Use some of that fancy vault education as the sentinel said, an argument formulated in his mind.
"Yes, I wanted to say that water isn't just water" he replied quietly, confidently "I don't think that's being understood, and while clear pure water makes for a good shower, that isn't quite what I was thinking when I meant it to sound important. You really want to know why the enclave has shown their hand Rufio."
"Of course" the man answered honestly, probably the only thing Alex could say well of the man at this point, but he thought he might have something to at least 'unhorse him' as Mr. Brock use to say.
"I'll tell you again then, water." Alex insisted with finality, but he would take the man apart at his own arguments now "It isn't just something to let you have a dip in the basin; or to take a long gulp of after a hard day cracking mutant hide. It's the waters of life; called it for a reason, not only will it let the wasteland finally breath again, but it'll let you and your brothers feed again, Rivet and Megaton feed again, every wastelander from here to the Pitt and beyond will fall over themselves when they hear about the aqua pura-who couldn't when all they had through their life is the hope of growing an extra limb or maybe having their guts rotted out."
Rufio went to speak, to cry him down but Alex held up a hand to silence him, on he went "Rebuilding the circle of life not good enough? How about this: Imagine every leather skinned; one bullet bull's-eye shooter from here to as far as the wasteland stretches, imagine them all fighting it out tooth and nail for some measly scrapes of bread and whatever water they can find that won't burn them from the inside out. Now imagine those people who've broke their backs just so survive, hearing from down south that there's been a curing of the tidal basin, that every single one of them can have as much water as they can carry and drink, you getting the idea?"
"A hell of a bribe" Rufio admitted to Alex's smile, he nodded gamely "What's the population of the wasteland? A few thousand including its outer reaches, perhaps ten thousand in total in the outer extremities? Think on this: If half of that number is within immediate word of mouth of the DC ruins, then you have an audience of thousands. Say perhaps that thirty five hundred of them all in are slavers; mercenaries with bloody hands, raiders and scumbags, imagine the remaining fifteen hundred are good men-what do you have?"
"Three times the number of our house" Rothchild offered and Alexander nodded again with the smile that didn't leave "Let's say for argument one third of those are the old or the invalid, everyone knows the old don't last too long out here. Let's say the remaining thousand are good; not so bad or useless outright, let's say they all have a taste that every man in the wasteland has-what have you got?"
It was Rufio who begrudged him the answer "A large recruiting base" Alex clicked his fingers, he was in the swing of things, just like listening to one of his father's old rat pack records "That's maybe the worst case scenario, you'd have people lining up to fight as long as you allowed them to live. For those that don't fight well you have unheard of numbers for scavenger teams; miners, food preppers and mechanics, a windfall of manpower that would revitalise your strength in a few months"
"The power of water" Colvin spoke up, the sentinel looked pleased, but Rufio was obstinate. "Maybe you're right, maybe we get even a tenth of that number in fighting strength. In four months time if we were able to train and equip them all then we'd be one fifth off better than we were a year ago, a good point" he conceded a lot, but turned on his own reasoning in what Alex felt were body blows "That's if we fight the enclave. You do realise what you're proposing, just what we'd be facing? Early reports have their number at the purifier alone for a hundred strong at least; every black mask equipped with flamers and plasma weapons we haven't managed to dig up here in all the years we've tried. Their emplacing artillery strong enough to shatter our power suits by the scribes estimations, they have post-war production capabilities-they have vertibird's!" Rufio shook his head that glanced a fraying light of gray upon his thinly cut scalp.
"If I'm honest kid, I like your idea, fought for it since I first set eyes on the DC ruins, my head didn't turn that much when all the closest brothers I had stabbed the elder in the back" Rufio sounded brutally sincere, soul wrenching rather than outspoken in a twist "If we turn and fight the enclave now everything we've fought for will have been for nothing, we'll all be slaughtered fighting the good fight" the man stood finally, almost tiredly and looked at his most immediate superior, a thoughtful Elder Lyons, "Do what you will sir, I wouldn't have abandoned you this late in the game-didn't do it early. You want one more throw of the dice for this kid and his father's legacy? I'll be standing behind you with a muzzle over your shoulder or standing between you and those green bastards as I always have."
To the surprise of the men who were supporting him, Alex had noticed most of them in the scrappy argument earlier; Rufio made for the door and left without another word, Lyon's watched him go and his daughter across from him looked on with sheer worry on her face.
Going for the sympathetic maybe? Alex reasoned on Rufio, realising that if he sounded right then it was a callous thought.
But how torn up did the Elder look sitting in turmoil, unsure and feeble almost surrounded in the midst of the brotherhood power.
"Perhaps we should retire this…debate for later in the day sir" Rothchild suggested, sensing the mood in the room becoming stale, and Alex for his part didn't know how to proceed himself.
"Agreed Rothchild, all of you return to your regular duties" Immediately the room returned to that sense of discipline Alex had noted before, every man and woman raising themselves and giving a salute before emptying the room. Elder Lyons stayed with Rothchild and the hawk, the sentinel gave a hushed command to Vargas before moving for him where he'd stayed rooted.
She looked pleased enough despite Rufio's action, the good job she'd given him stated as much but she did seem somewhat reluctant with him suddenly, waited until the room was clear before she was honest, "I didn't think Rufio would have been as smart as that, play on my father's emotions that is. It didn't help that he done a great outline of just what exactly the enclave has to bear as well"
"What do we do now then?" he asked dismally, beginning to get the feeling that the real remonstrations had begun in the elders mind.
"We wait, and maybe get you some food" Alec had felt his hunger return, but waiting to find out what they'd have to do? He hated delays more than anything, spent enough time wandering through the wastes here and there because of them, "Either argument will be lent weight as the reports come back from our scouts across the ruins, on the muties and the enclave both. Come on, I'll show you where the mess is"
He was as hungrier than he thought, ravenous even given the quality of what the brotherhood had in its mess hall; mushed up carrots and turnip just as they'd done in the vaults in a poor imitation, fresh fruit and a soluble meat substitute that didn't go down quite as badly as he expected a brahmin milkshake.
All of it was produced in hydroponic labs held in the rear of the high ringed facility, tended to by the brotherhood scribes relegated behind weaponry and defence in importance, something similar in Rivet City save for the idea of expansion or practical devolvement to others in the wastelands isolated places of civilisation.
"The brotherhood enforces order with laser rifles and big scary suits kid" Vargas had reminded him when he brought up why they hadn't attempted to investigate the technology further, "We don't see farming as the lynchpin to annihilating the muties once and for all. Not on our capabilities anyway, that's why you and your fathers work is so important" the man reminded him, or was he placating him? He doubted it having seen his vent his spleen earlier.
The people around him were good as well, patient and humorous for the most, the sort who'd help a person forget just how screwed up things had become in so short a time. Colvin was a silver hearted angel from his own words; never letting his temper turn nasty except when he grilled Dusk, another member of the pride who'd called him a 'pig' and left to stew.
Kodiak and Vargas were the serious ones of the bunch, didn't mince words and comforting in their own way of being both honest and on his side of things. Glade was the oldest and funniest of the lot, he didn't seem to have lost a single flick of his mind in all the years he'd fought in DC, the sentinel-Sarah was as disarming or serious as anyone together as the situation required.
It left him fairly relaxed when Rothchild appeared in the door of the mess hall as hasty as the man ever appeared, almost breathless and very pensive. He approached the table and gave the squad a salute, "Brothers" he greeted them all tightly, "Sentinel, can I have a word-in fact, why don't all of you come along. Gallows is back; he hasn't brought good news" Sharing worried glances the squad got up to follow the head scientist, "Come on boy!" Colvin whistled back when he noticed Alex held still at the table, sheepishly he followed.
Rothchild led them to a small room just off the mess hall, stocked with sheets of surplus bedding frames; cabinets, old hospital lights, anything miscellaneous that the brotherhood might ever need. Inside surprisingly also in such a dark and dank room; was the Elder and another man, windswept looking under a muck stained duster, dark skin highlighted by a sheen of sweat that he hadn't gotten around to wiping off.
Alex remembered him from Galaxy news; quiet and always on the fringe of the squad, didn't say a word during the battle in anger or adrenaline, or after except, to volunteer for two consecutive watch periods.
"Your report Sentinel" he offered quickly, leaving the daughter of the Elder to scan the document with a wary expression.
"Gallows never brings good news" Glade muttered in their small assembly, and worriedly Colvin and Kodiak nodded almost nervously both.
It was as bad as they expected, the Sentinel's hand went unconsciously to rub her brow, the Elder nodded apologetically and Alex felt his hands tighten again, what had gallows found?
"Two parties-massing groups of super mutants approaching the dc ruins, strength exceeding a century by at least a dozen-behemoths present". she read the news with a bitter twang to her voice, and suddenly Alex felt the whole room fall apart.
"One hundred plus supers?" Vargas mouthed as if struck, "That's impossible; you must have got run over yourself Gallows, maybe counted the smaller ulgies twice when they split-
"No splitting this time, no mistaking it either captain" Gallows coolly replied, apparently having made his peace with the information he brought. "I watched them for a day and a night at Germantown, waited while they massed their forces together. I stayed with them until I noticed some captives being taken North West by a smaller party; routed off to follow and rescue" Just who follows off parties of super mutants to kill them? "I managed to catch them around an undiscovered settlement named Big Town; the people were from that place."
"That close to Germantown? There either stupid or have some serious firepower" Glade suggested.
"Probably the first one I'll guess" Kodiak interrupted, "Did they manage to tell you anything useful? Where the bastards are coming from maybe?" Gallows gave his head a slight shake, "The group's refugees from somewhere farther west, tired and scared. They spend most of their days hiding and hoping the mutants don't come by"
Alex was surprised by the information, well informed by most wastelanders that anything beyond Arefu was a ghost town, like Minefield all the way to the perverse sanctuary off Paradise Falls. Anyone living that far out had to be just what Glade had surmised and it didn't help them one bit.
"After that I caught the mutants again just by the Chryslus building, moving for the passing point at Dupont West, obviously there going to attempt to head straight for the mall through Georgetown."
Elder Lyon's having been quiet for the most at this point betrayed his anxiety by clenching his eyes shut and just stopping himself from smacking the crap strewn table behind him.
"Paladin Carron is holding the mouth of northern Georgetown in a defensive fighting position, with a squad of five men" the Elder bemoaned loudly, "They would only have enough ammunition to hold the mutants for an hour or two; if there not simply overrun outright. And if they get through! Gods above, our force at the monument will be decimated."
Sentinel Lyon spoke as any of them could have hoped too, "Father; we aren't just going to let those freaks walk over us are we? It'll take time for them to reach Georgetown fully and start an assault; we can mobilize the pride-support of four other squads" she insisted vehemently, but Rothchild and her father were aligned in their negativity.
"If this is known within the brotherhood then not one man will wish to fight the enclave" Elder Lyon's insisted with weary resignation, if it was possible then Alex was sure he'd aged ten years in mere moments. "Rothchild informs me that many of those who favour seeking an alliance-even non-aggression have wavered, and we may yet find that many will stand with my decision to fight the enclave"
"This news will endanger all of that however" Rothchild continued just as gravely, "Whatever happens in the mall, in Georgetown, then it must happen without the brotherhood at large knowing." The implications were clear, what Elder Lyons was asking of a squad no more than eight strong knowing that they would face an army more than ten times there number.
It was sheer madness, and even still the Sentinel stepped up, "We can coordinate with our brothers in the mall, alert them through at our resupply position on the opposite bank and order them to send assistance to Carron in Georgetown. It'll delay the muties long enough to allow them to set up a line of retreat the mall"
She was more confident than Vargas, who took a line to breach protocol and ask very seriously "I'm sorry Elder; Sentinel, but are we really talking about just giving up the mall, just like that? Many of our brothers have died holding it. It's the heart of DC-
"We're well aware paladin Vargas" the elder interrupted sympathetically but strictly, but didn't leave it so blunt "The truth is that which we all know, if we stand and hold our ground and fight as we are now, then we shall all of us fall man by man until the end. If however we unify together; and re-concentrate our strength, then we may have a chance to taking the enclave at the purifier"
It was that time that the pride showed their concern through Vargas again, "No offence to you Elder; or you Alex, but to what end? Will the water alone save us from annihilation?" Elder Lyon's formed his mouth into a grim line.
"If we do not fight for it; then the enclave will have sole control in the rebirth of this land which we have fought so long and hard for. I tell you all now, it will be not be an end worth seeing."
Doubts allayed, if not hidden under their discipline, the pride began to discuss the strategy of dealing with the mutants in so few number, 'We'll not even have enough ammo to deal with them all' 'Not unless we bring along a fatboy-or maybe we could dig a 50 out of the armoury', Alex was sure the talk was suicide even for them, but the quiet man of the group spoke up.
"I delivered the ordinance to Carron's position including a fatboy, after our battle for GNR" Gallows dreary voice said lending some hope, "Owing to the multitude of smaller numbers and divergence Carron refused to stack it up however. There's no way to get a reliable radio channel through all the interference of the overhanging cityscape wreckage, but if a man could get there to warn them…"
Sentinel Lyon's refused to entertain the notion, "Impossible, what we've got here is enough to just about hold our own for a time we get spotted early or can't link up. Even if my father can convince Tristan to lend us some quality support under the guise of a supply squad, we'll be hard up to press any advantage of surprise"
In the skirmish for GNR Alex had seen the effect of a fatboy detonation even on a super mutant behemoth, bursting through a hasty erected shield wall consisting of an overturned supply lorry, the thirty foot monster had shrugged off minigun salvo's and high calibre rifle fire like it was bred to do so.
Alex was stood by dry firing a worn down R91 rifle when Vargas had pulled him towards a filthy fountain polluted by mutants flesh and blood, leaving him without enough time to ask what was going on before the paladin laid a leaden fat boy over his shoulder and telling him to aim up.
He never quite had been able to dismiss the smell of the resulting explosion, or rather decimation; as parts of the 'smaller' mutants reigned down around the two part missing husk of the behemoth itself, couldn't help and laugh as joyfully as the rest of the pride hollered and swore to whatever deity they could recall from before the bombs dropped.
"I'll go" he told them, confident despite the looks of confusion and disbelief he received in return, "You'll go where" Rothchild from among them asked, but Alex could see in more than a pair of eyes that they knew exactly where he meant.
"Georgetown and Carron, I'll deliver the news and tell them to prepare" he answered, knowing it had to be him. Everyone else here wasn't as expendable in the grand scheme of things, every knight and paladin had years of experience and dozens of mutants to their credit, he was as newborn as the day he entered vault 101 in comparison.
The Sentinel and Elder were united in preventing it however, "With all due respect, you don't know what you're volunteering for my boy. Georgetown is a warzone even more chaotic than the mall, and we only maintain a minimal prescience there. If we were to allow you to attempt to get through and contact Carron…I would not feel as if I've done your fathers memory any justice"
"My father's right, even brotherhood doesn't travel through Georgetown unless we have squad strength at least" the Sentinel followed, "It would be near suicide for one man, much less an inexperienced one."
"It's good then that I've been half way across the wasteland then" Alex replied verging on defiant, he wouldn't sit around here and wait for whatever the enclave was planning to come up, he couldn't imagine another day in that room, sweating and reliving. "I'm not willing to let you all fight a war with the bastards who killed my father and stand aside while you do it. I'll start by getting word to Carron and helping the pride survives, so that we can get the purifier back." Alex held up a hand as the Sentinel went to protest again, Alphonse could have never kept him in line, James didn't do much better either.
A funny way the world worked, that heartless bastard had probably killed half of vault 101 by now, his father was likely just ash in the Jefferson memorial.
"I'm not in your rank and file, I'm not a knight or even a initiate" Alex removed his pip-boy through the key-coded clasp on the underside of the scarred hide, "Input coordinates and a route for me Rothchild, I expect you know the workings" Giving the Elder a respectful nod, Alexander rounded on the irate Sentinel, "I think it's best you show me to the armoury, I wouldn't want to make it too easy for the greenies."