As Rotten As The Wasteland

By: glitzyoptics

PART I: THE WASTELANDER

0754 Hours, April 10, 2280, Megaton

Lisette O'Brien rose early from the bunkhouse when the confessor came from his house and down to the featured object of the town: the dormant bomb. He would approach the bomb, bow his head, speak something to himself before commencing his preachings. It was this town's morning rooster. For Lisette, she hadn't slept that night and was up long before the confessor had stirred in his own bed.

It wasn't long before the entire town of Megaton was awake and falling into their daily routines. The man outside the clinic greeted his brahmin with a pat on both of its heads, the Brass Lantern's owners prepared for their morning usuals and the old man who ran the water plant came out to smoke a cigarette.

Lisette and her older brother, Orson, had only been in Megaton for three days, however, most of that time was spent outside of the gates because the protectron was determined not to allow them entry. They slept outside the gates for a night, listening to the protectron drone on about the city they weren't allowed inside of. When that morning came, a man emerged from the gates. He was dark-skinned, had a full beard and a wide brimmed hat. He introduced himself as the sheriff of Megaton. He allowed them entry only if they agreed to continue on their way in a week. They agreed to his terms and Lisette and Orson had found themselves a temporary home.

The door to the bunkhouse opened and out came Orson. Despite their differences in age, many had commented on how similar the pair appeared. Both had jet black hair and cool eyes. Lisette didn't agree but rather thought that Orson resembled their father more than herself. Orson put on his red baseball cap and joined Lisette. "Morning, Lis," he said, "how'd you sleep?"

Lisette shrugged. "Not well."

Orson made a displeased noise and patted her back. "Hey, it'll be okay. We've got ourselves a place to sleep, access to food and we're safe. This is the best bargain we've gotten in months."

"Yeah but only for a week."

"It's better than sleeping out there," he gestured towards the tall gates of Megaton, "Lighten up, Lis. We're here to regather ourselves before we're off again to…" he paused, "wherever the road takes us." With that said, Orson began down to the Brass Lantern for breakfast. Lisette would join him in a few minutes. For the time being, she was stuck where she stood.

For a town that was primarily for Wastelanders, the residents of Megaton weren't too fond of permanent residents. It wouldn't be a bad place to live despite the looming bomb in the center of the town but they couldn't. Lisette had always wanted a place she could call her home. She and her brother had been traveling from settlement to town to city for years and her brother didn't seem bothered by it. Lisette, on the other hand, was desperate for a place to call home. The constant stress of wandering around with some ghastly creature breathing down your neck, eating maybe once a day and hardly getting sleep was an exhausting lifestyle. Orson sometimes called her a visionary and it was true. She imagined a better life and she desperately wanted it. She knew there had to be a place somewhere in this godforsaken world that wasn't desolate and grey. From reading pre-war books, she had gathered her perfect life. She imagined a beautiful farmhouse, shingles and siding, green shrubs and flowers. She hoped to one day find herself a husband and maybe even have children. But she knew deep down inside that her vision was only a vision and wouldn't ever happen.

After some time, Lisette wandered down to the Brass Lantern and took a seat next to her brother who was already eating a bowl of noodles. The woman behind the bar asked Lisette if she wanted anything and replied that a bowl of noodles was fine. The pair ate in silence.

The woman behind the bar finished with a man who had bought a few nuka colas and then she turned to the pair with a smile on her face. "Well, hi again. This isn't the first time I've seen you two here. I don't think I introduced myself. My name's Jenny Stahl. What's brought you two to Megaton?"

"We're just passing through. The sheriff's let us stay here for a week." Orson replied.

Jenny's face lit up with surprise. "Oh, he is? That's very kind of him. He is probably one of the nicest people here! Aside from myself but," she laughed and winked at Orson.

Orson returned the laugh and added, offering his hand, "My name's Orson."

She shook his hand. "Are you two related?"

"Yes, she's my sister." Orson nudged Lisette with his elbow.

Lisette offered her hand as well and introduced herself, "I'm Lisette."

Jenny shook her hand. "Nice to meet you two. You're one of the most pleasant groups to wander through here. We usually get nasty people who are looking for a place to eat, sleep, and… well, you know the rest."

They finished up their breakfast and decided that they would go up to the trader and see if they had any items the pair might need before they set out again. Between the two of them, they had around fifty caps. It was enough to buy them food but they desperately needed new weapons as well as some ammo. And maybe even some new clothes too. Lisette couldn't remember the last time she had changed out of the brahmin-hide clothing she wore.

On the highest level of Megaton, Orson and Lisette entered the Craterside Supply and they were greeted by the bright red-headed owner of the store. "Hey! Don't mind the smell! I was just testing a few chemicals. They're harmless, really! Let me know if I can do anything for you two."

The pair began to browse the selections of the store. Lisette found herself drawn to a shelf with folded clothing. She could use something new. Orson wandered over to the weapons and began looking through them, testing the weight of them in his hands.

Orson had managed to get his hands on a sawed-off shotgun and Lisette was pretty good with a 10mm. They were in lousy condition but anything was better than nothing. Lisette didn't fire the weapon much. She did most of the lockpicking and watching while Orson did most of the shooting.

After Lisette had chosen clothes that were in pretty good condition, she went to find Orson. She found him speaking to a man, a rough-looking mercenary from the looks of his armor. She approached them in mid-conversation and stood beside her brother.

"...retrieving items from people or locations, things like that. We're an organization that's trying to find a place in this wasteland for people who aren't tied to any affiliation. Bring power to the common wastelander."

"Sounds nice and all, but we're not looking to join any type of faction or group or anything. Thanks man." Orson said.

"I'm not saying you have to join or anything. Just to help you get some caps, that's all. C'mon, I know it's hard out there and caps aren't easy to come by these days." The merc was persistent.

"I said thanks man, but we're not interested."

The merc looked at Orson with narrow eyes. He gave his goodbyes and a tip of his head to Lisette as he exited the store. The store owner called to him on the way out, saying he could come back if he was willing to spend the caps.

"What was that?" Lisette asked.

Orson shook his head, expelling an annoyed breath. "I don't know, some merc trying to recruit us for some caps. I don't really trust guys like them."

"Well, what was he offering?" Lisette asked, genuinely curious. If a man comes up to them and offers work and caps then the least they can do it consider it.

Orson gave Lisette an incredulous look, "You're joking, Lis."

"If he's offering caps, the least you can do is listen."

"I did listen and his offer doesn't ring well with me so I told him to get lost. Just because someone offers caps doesn't mean they're working for the right cause."

"Orson, you know we need caps…" Lisette reminded, "we're not exactly the most well off. Any caps from anyone sounds like a deal to me. And I feel like even if he was working for the wrong kind of people, he wouldn't have approached some straggly looking travelers."

Orson stared at her for a while, thinking about what she was saying. He grabbed a rifle off the shelf and pushed past Lisette. "We can talk about this later, maybe when we're not trying to do some shopping, okay?"

They paid for their items and left the shop to find the same merc outside of the store, smoking a cigarette. He eyed Orson and Lisette and they looked back at him. He shook his head and took a long draw from his cigarette. Orson approached the merc, slinging his new rifle across his back. "What kind of work are you offering again?"

The merc expelled a puff of smoke. "All kinds of work. Retrieving items from people, places, bounties, contracts. Anything you can think of. There isn't one type of work we do. We do pretty much everything you can imagine. What, are you suddenly interested now?"

"We're just trying to survive out here and caps speak volumes." Orson said.

A smile came across the merc's face and Lisette couldn't tell if it was a sneer or a smile. He shook out his cigarette and snuffed it out with his boot. "That's the kind of thinking that can take you places, Mister…?" he offered his hand for a shaking.

Orson stepped forward and took it. "O'Brien. Orson."

The merc looked at Lisette and offered his hand the same, "And you, ma'am?"

"Lisette." she shook his hand.

"If you two don't have any more business here in Megaton, we can start on our way." the merc said.

Orson looked at Lisette for approval and she said. "If you can give me a minute to change into these new clothes, we can meet you outside of Megaton when we're ready."

The merc gave charming smile. "Of course, Ms. O'Brien." With that said, he started for the large front gates of Megaton.

With the little the two had, they packed everything into their bags and met the merc outside of Megaton. The protectron wished them to come and visit Megaton again and the trio started into the wasteland, heading north.

"And where are we heading to exactly?" Orson asked.

"A place north of here, across the river. It's not far to walk."

1502 Hours, April 11, 2280, 3 km North of NW Seneca Station

Star Paladin Barbara Connelly made her way through the Wasteland, laser rifle in her hands as her Mister Gutsy named Gladys, chattered behind her, "Ms. Connelly, it's an awfully pleasant afternoon today, isn't it? The temperature seems to be settling at a lovely eighty-five degrees fahrenheit and..."

Barbara ignored her; she was too focused on what was scrolling across her display. She was picking up some odd reading.

On days like these, she spent many hours scouring the Wasteland for remnants of Pre-War technology with Gladys by her side. The search for Pre-War technology was a fading normality for the Brotherhood of Steel. Their efforts as of the late had turned towards serving the public by ridding the Mutants of the Capital Wasteland. Barbara didn't complain if her beliefs didn't match the Brotherhood's because her voice wouldn't have been heard at any rate.

Gladys' radar sensors reached out farther than Barbara's did and she was baffled that Gladys didn't read the signature she was. "Gladys, what am I reading?" Barbara asked.

Gladys stopped her chattering and went silent for a moment. "I am not reading any signatures in the area."

Barbara transferred the readings to Gladys through their tech link. "Check again."

Gladys bleeped. "Oh!" she exclaimed.

"You're going to need a diagnostic check when we get back to the Citadel." Barbara bit.

"Ms. Connelly, I assure you that I am functioning to my full potential and do not need a diagnostic check." Barbara would do it anyway. That was what Gladys said every time she needed one. But she would deal with that when they returned. Right now, she was more concerned with the odd reading. The only readings she could ever pick up were rogue bots and nothing more. But that wasn't the case. The reading was half a mile away and she couldn't tell if it was a bot or something living.

Barbara called up on Gladys to analyze the reading. Gladys bleeped as they continued in the heading. "It appears to have sentient value."

"Sentient what?"

"My scanners are suggesting that it is human."

"Affiliation?"

"None that I can readily detect."

Humans often melded themselves into factions for safety and security, whether it be Raiders, Slavers or the Brotherhood as Barbara's parents had done. But most had not been so fortunate to get themselves a reservation in a Vault. But from what Barbara had found of these Vaults, most were uninhabitable or were inhumane experiments or they had radroach infestations or were occupied by Super Mutants. Either way, Vaults weren't not as glamorous as they had been advertised. But Wastelanders, those who didn't associate with any faction, didn't last long on their own.

"Condition?" Barbara prodded.

Normally, if she had encountered a human, she kept her distance, or rather the human would keep their distance. Her bulky power armor and scowling helmet was enough to scare anyone with reason away. She didn't even bother anymore but today, she decided she would.

"Faint. In fact, vital signs are fading quickly. Perhaps if we hurry, we can offer our assistance." It was all the incentive she needed. Barbara was heartless but today, she heard it beating loud in her chest as she ran for the pinpoint on her heads-up display, Gladys trailing behind her.

In an outcropping of rocks, Barbara found a small, frail form in the shadows. Barbara slung her rifle around onto her back and crawled into the outcropping. It was a woman, a girl. Young, dirty and dying. She was dressed in dirty overalls that were spattered in blood and dust. Her skin was caked in mud and there were dark purple-red bruises around her neck. Barbara took her limp hand and felt for a pulse. She hardly felt read a thing. A faint, crackling noise quietly came from her lips.

"Ms. Connelly, I can call for medical convoy if you wish." Gladys offered.

Barbara took one of her stimpaks from her pack and injected it into the woman. The woman let out a crackling, raspy groan but she still didn't move. Barbara had seen enough to know that she had been strangled. She was lucky to be alive. "That won't be necessary, Gladys. We're done out here today. Let's go back."

Gladys bleeped. "I will call in our return."

Barbara scooped up the woman and with a netting she drew from her pack, she created a sash to cradle the woman inside of it at her shoulders. Gladys led the way as the pair went toward the one of the few places that they called home, the Citadel.

1734 Hours, April 11, 2280, Brotherhood of Steel Headquarters: the Citadel

Elder Adarius Dimitri had heard the news and was not pleased. Before him stood a revered and often feared Paladin: Star Paladin Barbara Connelly. She was at attention, helmet at her waist, eyes unwaveringly blank. He wondered what his options were. The Paladin was not known to bring much attention to herself and was among the top performers the Brotherhood has ever had but today, she had done something that had the whole Citadel talking. His options, he knew, were clear - he would have to put her to the test. He had reservations though. He felt as if he were about to discipline a young Initiate and not a Star Paladin.

"Paladin Connelly, as I may for my own sake, I will repeat what you have told me about your recent endeavor. You were searching for the stolen T-51b armor set, as you have been for almost a whole week now, you found a dying woman instead and decided that you would bring her back here. And for what? That is the part I'm struggling to comprehend. You had orders to follow."

Paladin Connelly stood firm and passive.

Elder Dimitri wasn't sure what he was looking at, what kind of person he was looking at. He had been around long enough to see her rise to glory. When he had become an Elder, she was steadily making her way through the ranks. Her prowess was unmatchable and her ethics were solid and unbreakable. She was the perfect soldier. And coming from a prominent Brotherhood family, her genes were pure and she was bred to be a Sister of Steel. In her older age, however, she became secluded and driven in her pursuit on recovering Pre-War technology. Granted, she had brought back uncountable amounts of tech but it didn't matter today. The Elder was surprised that he was having this talk with her. It was such an elementary statue in their code that it was like having to scold an older man for stealing cookies. Outsiders were not welcome inside the Citadel.

But he wasn't finished. If she was going to break such an rudimentary rule, then he could scold all he wanted. "And what exactly ran through your mind when you found this woman and decided to bring her back here? What were your plans or did you act out of spontaneity? Because I think you understand our protocol about bringing outsiders in."

"I do." she said.

He knew he was getting nowhere with her. She was apathetic and Elder Dimitri was concerned about what she had planned because she had a plan. And a Paladin's "plan" was his business too. So he decided he would be blunt. "What do you have planned with this woman? I know you, Paladin, nothing is random with you."

"I feel like there's something rewarding about saving someone's life." she said finally.

Paladin Connelly's response was not expected. Elder Dimitri wasn't sure what he was expecting but that was a hard response to argue with. He wasn't inhumane but it was still not acceptable.

She continued,"And I feel that our exclusive ways need to change if we want to be truly Brothers of Steel and serve the Capital Wasteland. Elder, if we are going to eradicate the Super Mutants and disregard less fortunate people, then we are no better than the Mutants that we strive to remove."

He was brought back by that. "That's a bold statement." he said and it was indeed bold. Her statement had many faces to it the way Elder Dimitri saw it. He valued the opinions of the Paladins but her statement burned him. It conjured ugly thoughts up that he hadn't given the time of day in what felt like ages.

It wasn't a secret that the Brotherhood was on a descent. After the death of Elder Lyons and subsequently Sentinel Lyons, there came a vacuum in the Brotherhood's leadership. Elder Dimitri had worked in the Lyon's Pride for a brief period of time but instead found his calling in scribe work and joined the Order of the Quill, which was responsible for chronicling and maintaining Pre-War books. He stood by and watched the Lyon's Pride flourish only to fall to the horrors of the Wasteland, the creatures and disease alike. It was hard to witness, especially when the Brotherhood found themselves leaderless. Elder Dimitri had offered himself and found that his election was unanimous. He wasn't entirely convinced if it was out of confidence or desperation from the members but nonetheless, he took his election seriously. That was almost six years ago and he was accredited for keeping the Brotherhood afloat for those six years. It was not an easy task since there were many conflicting feelings. Most Brotherhood members were still under the guise of civil duty and eradicating the Super Mutant population from the Capital Wasteland was the Brotherhood's main objective while others were still stern in the belief of preserving pre-war technology was the only priority. There was a compromise. Civil duty had become a backburner objective to dealing with the Super Mutants and recovering pre-war tech had become a higher priority.

The Brotherhood had been very open under Elder Lyons however in the command change, exclusiveness became popular again. It was no secret but that's how it was. It was mostly a defense mechanism. The Brotherhood was hurting and was making no progress. Elder Dimitri knew it was a looming concern. He was turning a blind eye to that reality only because he knew keeping the Brotherhood in order came first over progression. If there was no order, progression wouldn't even be possible. There hadn't been an outsider joining the Brotherhood ranks since Elder Lyons. The outsider had proven a great tool in storming of Project Purity but was only a useful tool. Many expected him to remain active within the Brotherhood ranks but unfortunately, that hadn't happened. The outsider had resigned after a few months of silence.

Even though there hadn't been an outsider joining in years, it wasn't impossible. Elder Lyons had taught him that openness got people places and he showed the entire Brotherhood that it could lead to good things despite unpopular opinion. Perhaps Paladin Connelly was onto something. But he was still conflicted. "I value any opinion; especially yours." he said, enticing her to continue.

"I believe it's unfair of us to impose such a task as eradicating the Super Mutants and be negligent of the less fortunate. When I was searching for the T-51b armor, I came across this woman and I felt compelled to save her from death. I realized that the only thing keeping me back from giving her aid was my strict pursuit for the armor. Surely, you can understand my deviation. It was a humane thing to do and I did so. If we're going to protect the Capital Wasteland, we need to be less exclusive and allow for the aid of the less fortunate. It is wrong of us with such advanced technology to keep it all to ourselves. I am not proposing that we begin to ruin the purity of the Brotherhood, but times are not as they were, Elder, and we need to change accordingly."

It was a lot to take in, even for an Elder. It had been years since he had heard anything of the sorts. To him, it was a breath of fresh air. He had waited a long time to hear someone express their concerns about the world outside of the Citadel, aside from the Super Mutant situation.

Elder Dimitri figured that her proposal was not out of the question and his brain began to stretch to all kinds of tangents.

His mind raced.

Paladin Connelly sensed his racing thoughts and said, "Also, Elder, I want to request to oversee the training of this woman as well as a sponsorship."

The Elder nearly choked. "Training?" he snapped.

She gave a single nod. "Yes, Elder."

"She needs to be evaluated before she can be trained. Is she even treated and conscious?"

"No, sir. I have planned to get into contact with a training commander for an evaluation after our conversation."

Elder Dimitri's gut was rolling. This situation was written with error… his brain screamed sin and wrong. It was a lot for him to take in. He was under the impression their current priorities were sitting well with the world but that was not the case as Paladin Connelly pointed out. And then came the anger. "You were assuming our conversation went in your favor then?" he bit.

"You're not an unreasonable man, Elder. I apologize for any disrespect, however, my request still remains."

"You understand, Paladin, that you're proposing actions that are unspeakable? Unheard of? A Paladin has not sponsored an outsider." he said narrowly.

"Times have changed, Elder."

There was a pause between the two. He then sighed and said, "I need to discuss this with my council. Your proposal is important; I believe you have a valid opinion. However, I am ordering you to withhold an evaluation until I have spoken with the others. She needs to be gone by this time tomorrow, no exceptions unless you are given new orders. Understood?"

"Yes, sir."

With that, he dismissed her and went to gather his council for a very urgent meeting.

2012 Hours, April 11, 2280, Secure Transmission Channel, Citadel

FROM: DM-001E

TO: CN-006SP

SUBJECT: New Orders

Paladin,

I have spoken with my council and with much reserve, I am authorizing an evaluation of your Wastelander. I am requesting to get the evaluation done by Knight Erik Linderman. He's a good soldier and I'm confident in his abilities to judge whether she is trainable. If he deems her untrainable, however, she will be removed.

If he deems her trainable, then we will discuss further actions in person at the earliest convenience. We will also discuss your sponsorship after an evaluation has been completed. Contact Knight Erik Linderman tomorrow morning by 1000 at the latest.

I want to assure you that I am confident in your proposal and I have thought long about what you said to me. You are seeing things in a new light. My council is not so keen to your proposal but with due time, they will come to see it may do us all some good.

I don't know who this Wastelander is that you found, but I hope you know that you may be putting her through more than she bargained for.

With regard,

Elder A. Dimitri

0836 Hours, April 12, 2280, Citadel, Courtyard

The bailey was full of sound, full of noise and voices. At this particular time of day, Initiates were participating in training, whether it be mindless strength sequences, running laps around the bailey, hand-to-hand combat, or target practice. The place was alive and teeming with activity.

Knight Erik Linderman stood, observing the line of Initiates that stood before them. All were erect and at attention waiting for another order. They were breathless and soaked in sweat; he had worked them hard but it was part of the job. It was his duty to ensure that all Initiates were of the caliber to become true Brothers and Sisters of Steel. It wasn't an easy task and Linderman had spent several enduring months to reach the potential to receive his Knight rank. He was the top of his Initiate group and after some field work decided that training was where he was better suited. He was among the few who had the liberty of choosing who was good enough and who was not; weeding out the able from the weak.

It wasn't personal. It was how things worked in the Citadel.

Linderman ordered his division to a sequence of strength exercises and mindlessly counted through the exercises, pacing around the group and watching carefully. His group was only a few days into their training and there were still nearly five more weeks of it. It was all the beginning. He had already spotted the few who shone and the few who didn't. By the third week, a test would be given showing off the skills they learned and promotions would be given to those who performed well.

Just as Linderman was about to issue another command to his Initiates, he noticed a figure across the bailey that caught his eye. His eyes narrowed. It was a figure he had come to recognize: Star Paladin Barbara Connelly. She was an elusive member of the Brotherhood to say the least. She kept to herself and didn't associate with many. She spent more time in the Wasteland than in the Citadel and when Linderman did see here, she spent most of it poking her nose into places it shouldn't be. Her lack of respect for her fellow Brothers and Sisters was something that got underneath his skin and her rank was the only thing keeping him from saying something to her.

However, seeing her in the bailey made Linderman edgy.

He snapped out of his gaze and issued another exercise to the Initiates. All the while, he continued to watch the Paladin from the corner of his eye for safe measure. Much to his distaste, she wasn't just observing the bailey; she had a focus. And her focus was him. Her gaze never wavered and he made sure to keep himself in check and on task.

The Paladin was out of her power armor and the age of the woman could be seen in her face, which was stern with lines that showed years of unhappiness. But the age wasn't anywhere to be found on her body. She was a tall woman; she saw eye to eye with Linderman who was well over six feet tall. Her shoulders and legs were well defined and robust. She was easily in her late fifties but had the endurance and agility of himself who was thirty years her junior. He had seen her practice sparring before, watched her shoot targets, and run miles at a time with ease. She was amazing to watch and well skilled, a force to be reckoned with. As much as she got underneath Linderman's skin, he always kept his distance. The fewer encounters with her, the better it made Linderman feel.

But that wasn't going to be the case today.

Suddenly, the Paladin was in full stride towards him. "Knight Linderman." she called as she approached him.

So much for keeping my distance. Linderman called for his assistant to cover for him and he approached the Paladin. He acknowledged her with a salute and said, "Steel be with you. What can I do for you, Paladin Connelly?"

"I'm relieving you of your training session today." she said.

"What for, Paladin?"

Her cold eyes scanned over him as she fished for the words. "I need your… opinion on something."

She turned and started for the B Ring and Linderman followed, wondering what sorts of trouble she was getting him into. She didn't need anyone's help and Linderman was sure his opinion wouldn't have any impact on what was about to happen.

The Paladin led Linderman to the medical bay. Once there, they were greeted by the jovial and eternally happy Mister Handy, Pavlov. Linderman had taken a few Initiates and himself to the medical bay and more times than not, Pavlov would be doing the tending. The robot zipped over to one of the beds where a young woman lay, tucked into the white sheets. She looked horribly beaten. Even though she was washed and clean, there were large, red-purple bruises around her neck. Her left eye was swollen and she had a bandage around her forehead.

A lump formed in his throat as he realized who that woman was: a wastelander. It was obvious from her sun worn skin. This wasn't one of their own.

"How is she doing, Pavlov?" Paladin Connelly asked.

"Why, she is doing much better than yesterday!" He exclaimed, "I managed to insert a stent down her pharynx- her throat to allow it to heal and realign itself. I removed it this morning and her respiratory rate has normalized! However, she is still deeply unconscious. It is a miracle she is alive; her throat had nearly been crushed. I don't understand how someone can live with themselves knowing they caused that much harm to someone!"

Linderman was confused. What did he have anything to do this with the woman? What opinion could he offer Paladin Connelly? The woman was obviously malnourished, frail and injured. But what puzzled him more was that there was a wastelander under the Brotherhood's care. How did she get here in the first place? Did the Paladin bring her? No… she couldn't have. It was against their protocols.

"Ms. Connelly, could I ask a very important favor of you?" Pavlov asked, addressing Paladin Connelly. "I need to go across the hall and speak to Sawbones about something. If you could, could you watch this patient while I'm gone? If anything happens, give me a shout. I would really appreciate it!"

"Of course."

Pavlov bid them goodbye and whizzed out, leaving the Paladin, the Knight and the wastelander alone.

"How did she get here?" He asked harshly.

"I brought her here."

He was shocked at how shameless she admitted it. "You did?"

"Knight, she would have died if I hadn't brought her back here... You're not suggesting that I should have left her there to die, are you?" she said in such a way that it made Knight Linderman feel embarrassed that he had questioned her. But it was no secret that she had broken a lot of rules bringing her here.

He tried to word his reply as delicate as possible, "Ma'am, this is against Citadel rules... Wastelanders are not allowed-"

She cut him off abruptly. "That's besides the point. I have the Elder's do you think of her?" She asked, as if she was asking him to critique a piece of art. But all he could see a beaten, unconscious Wastelander. Nothing else.

"I don't think I understand what you're asking me, Paladin." he said blunt, "because the only reason that you would be asking me is if you believe she has a chance of becoming an Initiate…"

"Precisely." her eyes were piercing.

Linderman's gut tightened. He didn't think that Wastelanders were very trainable. He had met a lot of them in his time and most of them were standoffish and unpredictable. He once got into an altercation with one who accused him of killing his family and taking everything from him. They were rough people and were better off left alone. They also got themselves into trouble. It wasn't a surprise there were so few settlements that lasted. And this was a good example of the trouble they can get themselves in.

He took a moment before he started towards the bed where the woman lay. She remained immobile, despite the presence of a fully armored Knight looming over her. She looked horrible. For a moment, he wondered what happened to her and came to the conclusion that it looked like she had been strangled and beaten. It gave him a chills to think that someone done this to a woman.

It would be hard for him to come to any conclusion about her trainability when she was unconscious. Despite that, he knew that no matter what he told her, it wouldn't have made much of a difference. She had already made up her mind.

"I don't know," he said finally, "It's hard for me to make a judgment while she's not conscious. We'll have to wait until she heals more and comes to before I can assess her trainability. You said the Elder was okay with this, correct?"

"I wouldn't have gotten this far if I didn't have their approval. I don't feel much Knight, but when I came across this woman I felt compelled to save her. Ithink there's something rewarding in saving someone's life." Paladin Connelly said.

Her remark caught him off guard. He failed to see the wrong in her words. However much it was looked down upon. It was a humane thing to do, a moral thing to do and he couldn't argue with that. Linderman imagined the Elder had only so much as shook his finger at the Star Paladin and allowed it to slide. But if Linderman had done the same, his punishment would be severe.

Either way, whoever this woman was, she had a lot of proving to do if she wanted to earn a place here.

Just as Linderman turned to return to where Paladin Connelly stood, the woman stirred. She made a low, gurgling sound before lapsing into a violent coughing fit.

Linderman lurched, shouting, "Pavlov!"

In an instant, Pavlov whizzed in and exclaimed, "How excellent! I'm surprised she's coming to!" he came to the edge of the bed, "don't be alarmed, Mr. Linderman, she needs a good cough to expel all the phlegm that's collected in her airways."

Linderman couldn't help but feel some concern. The cough was alarming in itself. It sounded painful and made his skin tingle beneath his armor. Finally, her coughing fit ceased and she let out a pained groan. She looked up weakly to the group around her. Her eyes were bloodshot and her face pale.

Linderman imagined it was not the most pleasant group to awaken to. He was large, intimidating and faceless in his armor, Pavlov was hovering a little too close and Paladin Connelly had a stern face about her.

"Hello there, madam, I am so happy to see you are finally awake." Pavlov said gently as one of his mechanical arms wiped up the bloody mucus that spattered her front, "Ms. Connelly, Mr. Linderman, if you two could stand back for a moment and allow me to tend to her."

The pair stood in the back of the medical bay and watched Pavlov expertly tend to the woman. She was weak and her breaths came out raspy and raw. Pavlov tried to carry on a conversation with the woman but she never responded. Linderman figured the robot was talking to himself to fill the void and make the woman feel more at ease. But the pair looked onto them interestedly.

She began to croak something quietly before she caught the attention of Pavlov. "I'm sorry, madam, did you say something?"

The woman croaked again. Her head had rolled back onto the pillow and her eyes shut.

"Oh!" One of Pavlov's eyes turned to Linderman and Paladin Connelly. "Ms. Connelly, do you know who she speaks of?"

"Who?" she asked, approaching him. Linderman followed.

"Orson? Do you know someone by the name of Orson?"

Her thin, grey eyebrows furrowed. "Never in my life."

The woman's eyes cracked open slowly and she looked directly at Paladin Connelly and asked, "Where… is he?"

"I don't know who you're talking about." Paladin Connelly replied.

The woman groaned."Where is he?" she persisted, "where is he?"

"I didn't find anyone else with you."

The woman looked defeated and faint. She closed her eyes and didn't say anything.

"You're under the protection of the Brotherhood of Steel." Paladin Connelly told her softly, in a way that Linderman had never heard her speak before. Linderman could hardly believe she was so passionate for this woman. Connelly didn't have a heart. She was a rough, rigid woman who notoriously never gave more than two cares about anything and suddenly, now she has a heart?

The woman didn't say anything and didn't acknowledge that she was being spoken to.

"What's your name?" she persisted.

Still, no response.

She huffed. "If you want to be that way, fine. I'll be back tomorrow Pavlov and she better be talking by then."

"Why, of course she will be talking by tomorrow! Don't be ridiculous, Ms. Connelly. I'm sure she will be doing much better by tomorrow!" Pavlov affirmed cheerily.

She was out of the medical bay before he finished talking, which left Linderman standing there and he didn't so much as give the wastelander another glance. He followed suit soon after the Paladin. He laughed to himself quietly at the situation the Paladin had herself in. She saves some a wastelander from death and when this wastelander wakes up, she's noncompliant and standoffish even with little energy.

He didn't give it another thought. He had work to do with his Initiates.

After his training session was complete, he made his way to the armory to send his armor through its usual tune up and then found his way to his office to check his terminal. In his message inbox, a message sat unread that sent his mind racing. It read:

FROM: DM-001E

TO: LN-085K

SUBJECT: Evaluation Request

Knight,

Star Paladin Barbara Connelly will be speaking with you today about a request for an evaluation of a Wastelander that she has recovered. I request that you evaluate her as soon as possible but no later than 0800 at the end of this week.

I understand your credentials which is why I am authorizing this evaluation from you.

Please don't hesitate to contact me if you have any concerns.

With regard,

Elder A. Dimitri

It would have been nice to receive this before Connelly had come up to me. Linderman thought. It would explain why she sounded secretive about the situation. She was under the impression that he knew about this evaluation request.

Evaluating Initiates was something Linderman was good at and he felt particularly honored that an Elder would be calling upon him for the evaluation. But there were several Paladins that were much more qualified than him. He decided he would bask in it for now.

He replied to the message with a confirmation of receival and made way for the laboratory to acquire the necessary paperwork. He had a lot of work to do.

0731 Hours, April 13, 2280, Citadel, B-Ring, Medical Bay

The following day, Paladin Barbara Connelly went to the medical bay first thing in the morning. An evaluation of her had been requested and Linderman affirmed that he would give the wastelander a few days to recuperate before evaluating her. Barbara, on the other hand, couldn't wait a few days to hear this woman's story. She wanted to know who she was, what she was doing where she found her and who she worked for.

Barbara entered the medical bay to find the woman laying on her back, asleep and hopefully not unconscious. Pavlov was hovering over a table as he worked with some syringes. He turned to greet Barbara. "Well, good morning, Ms. Connelly! Good to see you up and well! How are you today?"

"Is she conscious?" Barbara asked, ignoring his inquiry.

"Oh… yes, she's asleep. It's still rather early and she didn't sleep well last night. I stayed up with her all night. Lots of coughing, but she is alive, which is considerably better than my original prognosis!" Pavlov said.

"Has she said anything to you?"

"Not much. The most conversation we had is what she would like to drink but that's about it! She's not very talkative... But I should warn you that I wouldn't try to press anything too stressful upon her. She's healing well but the safer and calmer she feels, the quicker she will be up on her feet!"

"I'll try not to…"

The woman groaned from her bed. Pavlov whizzed over, all three of his mechanical arms ready to tend to her. Barbara joined Pavlov at her bed. He propped up the pillow for her as she sat up and coughed.

She looked… better. She still looked rough but better than the day before. The bruises at her neck were healing and her eye wasn't so swollen.

"Good to see you're alive this morning." Barbara said.

The woman regarded her only with a glance before closing her eyes again. She groaned and coughed.

"Good morning, madam!" Pavlov greeted, wiping the spittle from her chin, "I am so glad that you got some sleep. You are looking much better today! But I wanted to introduce someone you might be interested in talking to. I'll be going to the mess hall to retrieve you some breakfast but in the meantime this," he gestured with his arms towards Barbara, "is Star Paladin Barbara Connelly. Ms. Connelly would like to speak to you about some things. And I will be right back!" And with that Pavlov exited the medical bay leaving the pair to themselves.

She didn't have any idea of who this woman was. But her first impression proved the woman to but stubborn and passive. That was going to change. Barbara realized that the Elder's council was not very confident in her proposal, despite Elder Dimitri's assurance. She knew them better than that. She needed to make sure that this woman was worth something.

The woman didn't move; she only remained still with her eyes closed.

She decided she would try to be kind. "I'm sure you've been getting well acquainted with Pavlov. As he said, I'm Star Paladin Connelly. I'm the one that found you and brought you here." she said with no response from the woman. She didn't regard her with anything. Barbara wasn't necessarily expecting a warm reception from her but she didn't expect the lack of reception entirely.

"I can't tell if you're ignoring me because you hate me or if you're ignoring me because you're an asshole. But I'm sure it's probably both. Pavlov's been too nice to you. I need you to start talking."

Finally, the woman opened her eyes. "What do you want from me?" she asked with a hoarse voice.

"I want your cooperation."

"For what?"

"To tell me something, anything. Your name, who you are, and why you were where I found you."

"Why do you care so much?"

"I could throw you back into the Wasteland if you're going to act so defiant." Barbara sneered. "And it won't be where I found you either."

The woman didn't miss a beat. "My name's Lisette O'Brien and I don't know how or why I ended up where you found me, wherever that was..."

Barbara heaved a sigh of relief. "Was that so difficult?"

Lisette O'Brien shrugged.

"I feel it's only mutual respect if we get to know each other." Lisette raised an eyebrow at that. Barbara continued, "I want to offer you something, but I need to know who you work for."

"No one."

"Then I would advise you to take up my offer, if not, I have orders to put you back where I found you."

Lisette's eyes narrowed. "What are you offering?"

"I'm offering you training, a place to live, a place to sleep, eat and clothe you and to offer you a chance to become something. Wastelanders like you don't last long on their own."

"I wasn't on my own." She said softly.

"Oh?"

"I had my brother with me... Orson. Did you find anyone else with me?" she had feverently.

Barbara then realized that was the person she was croaking about when she first came around. "Not a trace."

She sighed, sadness taking her face. "I don't know what happened to him..."

"He's probably dead." Barbara said bluntly.

Lisette threw her a look, disgusted by her honesty. "He's not dead." She spat.

"He's lucky if he's dead. I found you in an area infested with slavers, which is why I'm interested in knowing why you were there in the first place. I wasn't sure if you were a runaway slave and I would have to worry about a slaver lord coming after my head for taking something that belonged to him."

She shook her head with a hollow expression. "I'm not a slave."

"In that case, it's a miracle they didn't come across you because right now you'd be in less pleasant circumstances and most likely dead." Barbara left it at that, letting it sink into her. And she knew it was. The sudden paleness that had captured Lisette's complexion was evidence enough.

Lisette's lips were pressed into a hard line. She didn't speak for a while. Barbara took a seat on the cot across from hers and waited as patiently as she could. She didn't have much time for a pity party so she began to pry. "Do you remember anything?"

Lisette shook her head, not saying a word. Barbara figured that it didn't have much significance in the grand scheme of things and needed consent that she was willing to take up her offer.

"That's a shame." Barbara said, "But my offer still stands."

"I need to find my brother." Lisette persisted.

"He's probably dead or if he's really unlucky, a slave. In that case, he's as good as dead."

"No, no, he isn't... I know he isn't."

Barbara knew she needed to change her tactic. If she was going to get her to consent to her offer, he needed to play closer to home for her. Barbara thought for a moment and Lisette saw that on her face.

"What?" Lisette said.

"Take up my offer and I'll help you find your brother."

Lisette's face lit up for a moment and only for a moment. "Yeah, like I'm going to believe that… You're the last person I'd want to accept any help from." she said bitterly.

"Judging by your circumstances, you don't have a choice. I was kind enough to bring you here and give you the medical care that you needed but you're not welcome as a Wastelander. If I were you, I would give my offer the time of day."

Lisette crossed her arms over her chest, seemingly not convinced until she heaved a breath and said, "Fine…"

Barbara smirked. "Glad to see you're not only greedy and stubborn but an opportunist." She stood up and began to make for the door. "Later this week when you're more adept, a Knight will be coming in to evaluate you. Then and only then will you be able to fully accept my offer. Your consent was all I needed."

"A Knight? And I don't get any time to think about it?"

"No, at this point, you don't deserve it." With that said, Barbara exited the medical bay.

0713 Hours, April 15, 2280, Citadel, B-Ring, Medical Bay

The next two days Lisette O'Brien had a sickening feeling in her gut. Somewhere out there was her brother, alive or dead. He was out there and she couldn't do a damn thing about it. Her throat was still sore and her brain scrambled to understand what was happening. For years, it had been her and her brother and now it was just her in this strange place with these strange people. Lisette hadn't had many Brotherhood of Steel run-ins but most were not pleasant. They would scoff under their breath about how dirty she was or that she needed to mind her own business and move along. For a group that claimed to be the protectors of the Capital, they treated the ones they "protect" like shit.

But right now, she was in a difficult spot. She desperately clawed at her memory to try and remember what had happened after her and her brother had left Megaton with that… guy. But she couldn't recall a single thing. She remembered their departure and the rest was a haze and the next thing she remembered was waking up to that bitter old woman and that armored man and the very talkative robot.

But that bitter old woman had said that she could help find her brother... if she joined them. Lisette wasn't entirely excited about joining anything. Orson had drilled it into her head that it was better to be on your own. But she knew she wouldn't last long in the Wasteland by herself without her brother.

She didn't have a choice. She had to comply. But she had no idea what was going to be expected of her. Lisette decided she would ask the next one of them that walked in there what exactly she had complied to.

The Mister Handy, which went by the name of Pavlov, came whizzing in with a tray full of food in his mechanical arms. He greeted her cheerily as he normally did, as if the excitement of greeting her was never-ending. "Ms. O'Brien, you will never guess what I saw on the way to getting you some breakfast!"

Lisette only stared at him, uninterested.

He continued anyway, setting the tray on the table next to her cot, "Well, I was coming down the hallway and I saw… a radroach and then you'll never guess, the head scribe screamed so loud! Oh, it was quite amusing! I have never heard a human emit such a high pitched scream! How silly!" He paused, looking at her longingly for a reaction.

She continued to stare.

"Well, how are you feeling? You haven't spoken much today…"

"Like shit."

His eyes drifted slightly before saying, "Could you be more specific, Ms. O'Brien? What part of you is feeling like human feces, if you excuse my derogatory wording?"

"All of me. I don't want to be here."

"Oh, Ms. O'Brien, I'm very sorry you feel that way. Would you like to talk about it more?"

Lisette couldn't tell if he was being sarcastic or not. She figured he was being wholehearted since he hadn't picked up on any of her sarcasm thus far. "No." she said, point blank.

He expressed an artificial sigh. "Well, perhaps you will feel better after you have eaten your breakfast? It's the usual today!"

Lisette looked at the tray of food he had set down in the table near her. She had to admit, she was pretty hungry. Since her throat had been so raw, eating was a challenge. Most of her meals consisted of drinks or a very thick fruit sauce from an unpleasant brown bag. But now her throat wasn't so sore and she knew that Pavlov knew that judging from the type of food he had brought her this time.

The tray consisted of some sort of hash with bits of pale pink meat, a slice of bread with a slick spread, and chunks of fruit in a thick syrup. There was a hot beverage and a cup of water accompanied with it as well as eating utensils and a napkin. It looked appetizing to her standards. Food was food but she hadn't exactly warmed up to the idea of food being readily available on a schedule.

"Are you hungry, Ms. O'Brien? Why don't you sit up and come to the edge of the bed to eat?" Pavlov said.

Lisette's stomach rumbled eagerly. She was very hungry. She sat up and untucked herself from the sheets to sit on the edge of the bed. Pavlov looked at her earnestly, watching take small bites of her food. She eventually threw him a glance, which he caught and then said, "Please, eat slow."

"I am." she shook her head, annoyed.

As she was halfway through her meal, another robot whizzed in. This one the less pleasant one. "I'm still surprised you're alive." The Mister Gutsy was an asshole but Lisette respected that. He was the other robot that maintained the medical bay and his name was Sawbones. Lisette hadn't come across many Misters but the Gutsies that she did come across were exactly like Sawbones: assholes, drill sergeant-like assholes.

"Oh Sawbones, you are too cruel!" Pavlov cried like a wife to their husband.

"Good to see you too, Sawbones. I'm still surprised they haven't thrown you out of here for being such an asshole."

"They don't keep me around because I'm funny or beautiful, I can assure you, ma'am!"

"Why do they even need two robots in one place?" Lisette asked, genuinely curious.

"What a ridiculous thing to ask! Someone has to make sure that the entire Brotherhood doesn't cave in due to medical injuries! I am extremely proud to say that not a single Brother of Steel has died due to severe injuries in over a month! Your kind dies daily from petty illness!" With that, he huffed and went to busy himself in a filing cabinet.

"That's fair." Lisette nodded, satisfied with his answer.

"What Sawbones is trying to say is that he primarily specializes in emergency care while I specialize in general care. But I also happen to be quite knowledgeable in respiratory care, if you would like to know. But that is beside the point…" Pavlov's sentence trailed off into a jovial laugh, "I'm not confident that Sawbones would have been able to repair a crushed pharynx as I did. In fact, it was the first time I had ever attempted that type of procedure."

Lisette finished up her breakfast and quickly retreated back under the sheets of her cot. Pavlov approached her to take her empty tray from her when a figure appeared in the medical bay's doorway. She caught sight of the individual from the corner of her eye.

The man nearly filled the doorway with his height. He had an incredibly stoic face and quite handsome. His jawline was strong and his brow bone was the dominant feature on his face. He had a fair complexion with the exception of few faint scars on his cheeks. His dark hair was cropped short and he had matching dark eyes that revealed little to no emotion, much like his face. He was dressed in what Lisette had come to know as a casual uniform with a clipboard and pen in his hand. Lisette didn't recognize him but he looked important.

Pavlov turned to regard him happily. "Mr. Linderman, it is so good to see you! How are you doing this morning? Have you had your morning coffee as you like so much?"

"Good to see you too, Pavlov. And yes, I have." He replied politely.

"Good! What can I do for you this morning, Mr. Linderman?"

"I'm here for her," He gestured with his clipboard at Lisette, "Evaluation."

"Oh, yes! I almost forgot! Well, I have to drop off this tray at the mess hall so I'll make sure to stay out of your way!" Pavlov said. Then he turned to Sawbones who was still rummaging through a filing cabinet, grumbling to himself. "Sawbones? Mr. Linderman's here to perform his evaluation. Why don't we allow him to do his buisness, hmm?"

Sawbones slammed the filing cabinet shut after plucking a folder from it. "Fine."

Both of the Misters escorted themselves out, shutting the door behind them with a quiet hiss. A silence fell on the medical bay and Lisette felt herself tense yet placid. The man approached her as he scribbled on the clipboard. She looked him up and down, trying to read him but she found it difficult. He appeared battle-hardened and fair complexed. There wasn't many people in the Wasteland with such fair complexion. The sun was brutal and tanned every bit of exposed skin. But these Brotherhood of Steel folks, they were pale. Their skin was pristine and free of all impurities like burns, sunspots and creases. Yet, this man had seen a few battles in his time as the speckles on his cheeks indicated. He was still young, not much older than herself but he intimidated her. She had recognized his voice from the day she came to. He was there and was adorned in power armor. It had been the first time she had ever encountered someone in power armor up close and it was scary. It carried its own threatening presence. Thankfully, he was dressed down considerably. However, she was still intimidated.

In her nervousness, she said, "Are you this Knight that that old bitch told me would be coming in?"

"That is a Star Paladin you're speaking about, Wastelander. If you think you can speak that way about a Star Paladin then you have a lot to learn and I suggest you learn your place sooner rather than later," he bit, "I understand that you don't have any idea of how order works but a fundamental aspect to learn is your place in the hierarchy. I'll let you know that you don't have the authority or respect to talk about a Star Paladin like that."

Lisette bit back her tongue, realizing that he was being completely serious. His expression remained resolute in its sternness.

He cleared his throat. "I apologize for being so blunt but I'm trying to do you a favor. What's that old saying? If you don't have anything nice to say, don't say anything at all. I would suggest making that saying law. My name is Knight Erik Linderman. Star Paladin Connelly believes you're worth an evaluation and I'm going to be doing that today." he continued to scrawl on his clipboard.

Evaluation? Evaluation of what?

"What are you going to be evaluating?"

"To determine whether you're apt to being trained."

"Like a goddamn dog?"

Linderman sighed. "You've got a mouth, don't you?"

"It happens when you're a Wastelander as your kind likes to say."

"I wish I could sympathize with you more but unfortunately, I can't. How about we get started? The sooner we get this done, the sooner I'll be out of your hair. What's your name?" he said.

"Lisette O'Brien."

"Age?"

"Why does it matter?"

"Ma'am, I'm going to try to make this as painless as possible. You do understand that I'm the one whose deciding whether you're going to be thrown back out there or not. And I can assure you the Super Mutants wouldn't mind having fun with you; there are hundreds outside these walls. Your mouth won't get you anywhere. Now, how old are you?"

Lisette had to admit she was being more stubborn than she usually was. She was fully aware that she was indebted to these people and she did want to cooperate but she wasn't going to make it easy on them. Part of her wasn't so sure that they would throw her out but the other part of her didn't want to find out if they were serious. This Knight Erik Linderman had a patience about him, a calm and cool patience about him. Perhaps, she could use that to her advantage.

"I'm twenty-two." she said.

After a long series of questions and small exercises, the Knight finished up writing on his clipboard and looked through the papers one last time before nodding at him. "I believe that's all I need from you. I appreciate your cooperation."

"What could you all possibly want from me?" Lisette asked, genuinely curious. It was a question that was running around her head since the moment she came to. She quickly figured out that these people were xenophobic. "I have nothing to offer you or anyone here."

The Knight gave her a blank look. He was very hard to read and Lisette couldn't figure anything from his face. She wondered if emotionless and unforgiving was something that happened to these kind of people. Lisette couldn't argue that if anything, she was just that. Then he said, "I would take that up with Star Paladin Connelly. I have to submit this evaluation. Again, thank you for your cooperation." He started to go.

"Wait!" Lisette called, "what's the verdict?"

"That's confidential."

Fear rushed through her. All she could think about was her brother and that evaluation weighed heavily on her having even the slightest chance of finding him. "I… I just want to find my brother," she blurted out, "and… if you all are going to give me an opportunity to do that, then I'll take it. He means the world to me and he's the only one I have. I'm not gonna last out there by myself."

Lisette expected an expression change to happen on the Knight's face. But that didn't happen. He was still as calm and cool as ever.

"It's confidential, Wastelander." With that, he exited the medical bay.

Her throat tightened, choking her up. Suddenly, she was afraid. Very, very afraid. She realized this was coming to a head. If they were going to give her an opportunity to find her brother at some point like that Paladin had said, then she would do everything in her power to make sure that happened.

Lisette found herself struggling against tears. She missed him dearly. She didn't know how to make a decision like this on her own but she knew if he was in her circumstances, he would be doing the same.

She would find him. Someday.

1435 Hours, April 15, 2280, Secure Transmission Channel, Citadel

FROM: LN-085K

TO: DM-001E

SUBJECT: Evaluation Completed & Report

Good afternoon Elder,

I have completed my evaluation of the Wastelander. Attached to this message is the evaluation in full detail.

I have determined the Wastelander to be trainable. With your approval, I am granting her allowance into my own personal training division for the first tier of training. After the first tier has been completed, she will receive the second evaluation as do the other Initiates before power armor and advanced training.

I see potential in her character.

Let me know if you have any concerns or discrepancies with the report or compatibility issues.

Signed,

Knight E. Linderman


FROM: E_AD

TO: K_EL

SUBJECT: Re: Evaluation Completed & Report

Knight,

I appreciate taking time out of your schedule to perform this evaluation. I trust your judgement and I approve of admitting her to your personal division. Star Paladin Connelly also requested that she sponsor her training. I am only authorizing her through the second tier of her training.

Contact me if you have any concerns.

Make her feel welcome, Knight.

With regard,

Elder A. Dimitri