PROLOGUE
A tall figure stared out the glass windows on the observation deck. It was dark outside and there were no signs of clouds. The airship's flight had been mostly peaceful so far and it looked like it would continue to be peaceful. The tall figure wore a long heavily padded brown leather trench coat. He had black hair slicked back and a dark beard that covered about half his face. His face was spotted with scars from previous battles. One was above his left eye and there was another, smaller scar on his left cheek. A deep gash adorned his right cheek. He got them from a fight with a deathclaw years ago. He was only about twenty years old but the stress and burden of leadership had taken its toll, making him look a bit older than he really was. His name was Arthur Maxson, he was the Elder of the East Coast Chapter of the Brotherhood of Steel and the last living descendant of the Brotherhood's founder
The Western Chapters were in ruins and their war with the New California Republic only made things worse for them. Nobody had heard anything from the Mojave, the Midwestern, and the Montana Chapters and many of their bunkers were abandoned. Recently the Western Elders had asked for help. The NCR was fighting a war over Hoover Dam with a faction called Caesar's Legion. Maxson knew that for him to abandon his power in Boston and the Capitol Wasteland to fight a losing war for some stubborn fools who failed to adapt to the changing world around them wouldn't work. He planned to reinstate a Chapter in the Mojave and take the dam for the Brotherhood. His success would cement his election as High Elder in the future, convince the Western Chapters to make the same reforms he made that helped his Chapter thrive, and would keep dangerous technology out of the hands of the Legion's cruel savages and the NCR's corrupt politicians.
A few months ago this trip would not have been possible. To transport the Prydwen and its air fleet to the other side of America would take years. However the technology they found in the Commonwealth helped them a lot. He left his Sentinel, the Sole Survivor of Vault 111, in charge while he was gone. While more of a moderate, similar to Lyons, nobody would attempt to challenge the Sentinel's authority and for all he knew it might improve the Brotherhood's already horrible relationships with the rest of the settlements in the Commonwealth. He had heard rumors of a mysterious hero only called the Courier. He hoped to meet him. They said he was of the same ilk as the wasteland's other heroes. Like the Vault Dweller, the Chosen One and the Sole Survivor. He already knew the Lone Wanderer and the Sole Survivor personally.
"Sir we'll be reaching the Mojave in 9 hours." One of the crew's member's words took him out of his thoughts. He took a swig of whiskey before putting the bottle down on the nearby stand and headed towards his room to get some rest. He already had gone over the battle plans and what they would do when they got there with Knight Captain Kells and the other high ranking officers on his ship. It didn't matter If this "Courier" joined one of the rival factions. It didn't matter whatever the Legion or the Republic had planned. No one knew he was coming. He was going to make the Brotherhood a powerhouse in the west again and there was nothing they could do about it. And once he was finished he would return east and continue to expand and solidify the Brotherhood's work there.
"Ad Victoriam."