Reilly sat at her terminal, reading over the report compiled from the information her remaining team and the Wanderer had given her for the tenth time in a week. They still hadn't gone back out into the field after that long. It would be hard to, given they were down to three members. She skimmed over the part of the report that mentioned Theo's death, having seen it with her own eyes. He had only joined a month before the mission on a probationary trial, though he was proving to be a very helpful part of the team. She was actually planning to take him off probationary status if he did well on that mission, but...
Her eyes came to rest on part of the report that entailed the group's escape from the Statesman Hotel, written up by Donovan.
...and wouldn't you know it, once we got down there more of the mutie bastards were waiting for us. We opened fire on each other about the same time, and that psycho wanderer you sent to help whipped out a missile launcher of all things. I dunno where the lunatic was keeping it, but once they fired off a couple missiles and I thought the place was going to come down around our ear, I lost track of what was going on. I couldn't see or hear shit over the falling dust, mutant yells and Eugene's roaring gunfire. When everything settled, I saw the wanderer staring at something on the ground. I may not have been able to see their expression under the helmet, but you don't suddenly empty a whole clip into a dead mutant for the hell of it. I went over to see...
Reilly's attention drifted away from the monitor, she didn't want to read it again. Losing Theo was bad enough since he was new, but losing her second in command as well was more than she could stand. The Wanderer gave her a pep-talk once they got back and as much as it might have helped at first, the effect was wearing off. They had also said they'd send someone to help, to make up for failing to protect all her Rangers during the escape, in spite of all Reilly's objections to it.
"I screwed up, and Butcher died because of it. The least I can do is make sure you have someone to help you out around the base. I know someone, they're not exactly a medic, but they're trustworthy if a little frustrating at times." The Wanderer had insisted from beneath their Brotherhood of Steel helmet. Because of that, Reilly still wasn't positive if the Wanderer was a man or a woman. "Once I get out of D.C. I'll send them your way. Don't worry about a thing."
Of course, it was a week later and still nobody had arrived. She was more than a little skeptical anyone would. The Wanderer had been nice enough, but reliable people were few and far between in the wastes, and whoever the Wanderer thought could help had no obligations to the Rangers. Thinking they'd come all the way out here in the first place was just crazy.
She let out a sigh and reached over to flick on the radio, a familiar song filling the room. "...a story 'bout a guy named Butcher Pete-" She quickly flipped it off, in two very different ways. It seemed like ever time she'd bothered to turn on the radio the past week it was that song. Three Dog really needed to find something different to play. She sighed again. "Butcher..."
The clank of hurried boots on steel caught her attention, and she faced the doorway as Brick appeared in it. "Hey, Reilly. Donovan says we got some people snoopin' around outside. Want me to go blast 'em?"
"People?" Reilly wondered aloud, getting up. "Could they be...?"
---
"My God, how do you stand it? I mean... you must have the patience of a saint." The man in the rather charming mercenary outfit said, leaning against the wall. He glanced at the person in Brotherhood armor standing by the terminal, not moving an inch and not saying a word, as usual. Hell, he didn't even know the person's name.
"Come on, Steel. Say something already." The charmer said, a hint of annoyance in his voice. "At least give me a sign you haven't died under that helmet."
"Shut up." Steel grumbled, barely audible to anyone more than a foot away. "My name is not Steel, and you're one order away having your face blown off."
The charmer glared at Steel. "You're an ass, you know that?"
Apart from a small grunt that might have been the trace of a chuckle, he got no reply.
"Any luck?" The charmer called out.
"No, not a damn thing up here!" Someone replied. "I'm gonna keep looking, there has to be a way in!"
"It's called a door, you moron, and it's right here. Even if they did have a back door it'd be locked too." The charmer muttered.
A clunk and some clinking came from the door just before it opened. A woman in Ranger armor stepped outside, assault rifle in hand but resting at her side. She looked from the charmer to Steel, taking a close look at the latter. "Wanderer?" She asked.
Steel shook his head, but said nothing.
"Ah, the famous Wanderer I hear so much about comes up again. And here I thought everything I was being told on this little venture was a steaming pile of brahmin shit. Looks like I owe someone a beer." He said with a quick look at Steel. "You're Reilly then, I take it?"
She gave him a nod. "Of course. And you are?"
"Janus, mercenary and jack of all trades. I heard you might be hiring so I tagged along." He said with a shrug. "Cheerful guy or girl, I'm not sure which, over there is best referred to as Steel." Steel shot him a glare that was obvious even with a hidden face, and Janus just smirked back at him.
Steel turned back to Reilly, shaking his head. "I'm Charon." He said simply.
"So the Wanderer sent you to help?" Reilly inquired.
"You should be so lucky." Janus murmured.
Reilly gave him a questioning look, but wasn't given the chance to say anything before someone's voice came from above them.
"Damn it, I don't see anyway in! That jerk did tell them we were coming, right?!"
Janus let out a small groan. "The door is open, you dumbass." He yelled, putting ample emphasis on the last word.
"What?! Why the hell didn't you say somethin' earlier then?!"
"For the quiet." Janus mumbled, before calling back. "Just get your ass down here!"
Angry muttering and shuffling feet came from above them, and someone leapt down from the second floor, stumbling as he landed. He swore, wiping some of the dirt off his leather armor. "This crap is way too heavy." He complained, looking at Janus before turning around to face Reilly.
She stared at him, looking him up and down. Awkward balance, young face, a simple pistol at his waist... it was obvious he was a rookie to anyone. The fact that he made it this far complimented Janus and Charon's abilities more than anything, since they had kept him alive this long. "You're the one... the Wanderer sent?" She asked, unable to keep the skepticism from her voice.
If he noticed the implication in her tone, he was good at faking he didn't. Though something told Reilly he just completely missed it. "That's me." He said with a smile. "Butch DeLoria, reporting for duty!"