Preston Garvey strolled out his new home in Sanctuary to meet the returning general on the bridge. Preston was hopeful for the future. The general, just passing the Red Rocket truck stop, was still a little way off and Preston chose to fill the gap between them with the memory of their first meeting.
Preston was cornered in the Museum of Freedom, trying to protect the few remaining survivors from the massacre at Quincy. Their numbers had already dwindled as they wandered without home; through Jamaica Plain, pursued by gunners, and Lexington, overrun by feral ghouls. They had started with twenty and now there were five. Preston was running out of hope and ammunition. Through the locked door of the room they had barricaded themselves in, Preston could hear raiders tromping up the stairs and approaching the door. Preston opened the doors to the second-story balcony, thinking he might lower the others to safety before jumping down after them, but outside he found more raiders who had not yet entered the museum. Seeing the doors open, the raiders raised their guns towards Preston and the balcony. Preston panicked as he ducked behind the wall and cranked his laser musket and peeked out and leveled his gun at a raider and pulled the trigger and saw that he had aimed too low and he ducked behind the wall again and began to crank his musket once more. The raiders' bullets chased Preston and powdered portions of brick as they ricocheted off the museum's exterior walls. Preston heard guttural sounds coming from outside as he remained hidden behind the wall. He tried to imagine what he might see peeking out but failed. Bullets stopped striking the museum but the gunfire outside did not. Someone let out a "gah." Preston heard a dog barking and a "hunh." Soon he felt the urge to peek outside and gave in immediately.
Down in the street below he saw a man wearing a vault suit dispatching the raiders with a German Shepherd at his side. The man turned his pistol on the last raider. Preston merely observed in shock at his deliverance. A bullet left the vault dweller's gun and arrived at the raider's doorstep. He let out an "ugh" as he fell dead in the street. Preston, realizing he was still in dire need of assistance and had not been saved by the man's mere arrival, shouted to the stranger from the balcony. "Hey, up here! On the balcony! I've got a group of settlers inside! The raiders are almost through the door! Grab that laser musket and help us!" The man in the street looked up at Preston with confusion and briefly froze. Preston shouted again in desperation. "Please!" This stirred the vault dweller. He began searching the ground for the aforementioned "laser musket" and quickly located it. Preston pulled the balcony doors shut again and positioned himself behind the only entrance to the room in the case the raiders should break through the door before the vault dweller dealt with them. Preston could hear the man and his dog within the museum now, eliminating the raiders one by one. The barks and gunshots grew closer. Preston pictured their kind-hearted savior growing closer along with them. The gunshots ceased.
Preston moved towards the door to open it, but he stopped short of the door when he heard a dog whimper and a final gunshot. A raider's harsh voice came through the door. "I'm comin' in there, and I'm gonna skin every last one of ya." Preston raised his weapon again, moving to the side of the door. Mysteriously, gunfire resumed in the hallway. Bullets splintered the wooden door. Had Preston not stepped to the side, they would have killed him. A raider's face, presumably the one making the threats, burst through the door without warning, causing Preston to fire instinctively. The raider's head was reduced to red glowing ash upon the floorboards. The door swung open, apparently no longer locked. Preston nervously cranked his musket, unsure of who would step through the open doorway. The general stepped through, though he was not the general at the time.
Preston closed the door to his memory. The general was standing before him now. "How's the new settlement doing, general?"
"The ghouls are cleared out." The general paused before adding, almost unnecessarily, "the settlers have decided to join our cause." The general's voice was deep and dark and husky. It was not his natural voice but a guise. Preston had decided not to question the general's character. This "character" referred to was not the general's moral character, but rather the mythic character the general portrayed outwardly. Preston heard stories when he was younger.
"Glad to hear it." Preston paused before carrying on. "I've got another thing to talk to you about. We've finally started thinking about more than just survival- we've gotten large enough that we're having trouble communicating with all our settlements. It's a good problem to have, and, fortunately, I have a solution. I think it's time for us to retake the Castle- it's well-fortified, centrally-located, and, most importantly, it has a powerful enough radio transmitter to broadcast to the whole Commonwealth. It used to be the Minuteman HQ, way before my time."
"Who has control of it now?"
"Not who, so much as what. This was long before I joined up- but the way I heard it- some kind of monster came out of the sea and destroyed the fort. A lot of leaders died in the battle." Preston paused, thinking of Colonel Hollis' more recent death. "I guess nobody felt it was worth the risk attempting to retake it."
"We don't have the resources or the numbers to handle a sea monster, Preston. Especially not one that could run the Minutemen out of their HQ. We need time to gather more.." Mama Murphy stood, slightly stooped, next to Preston. She had sauntered over during the discussion intending to deliver the details of her latest vision.
"You've got to go to Diamond City, kid. The great, green jewel of the Commonwealth- the biggest settlement around- awaits. There you'll find more than the help we need. I've seen it." The general recalled his first encounter with Mama Murphy and "the sight-" now trying to decide how much faith he would put in it. He had met Mama Murphy in the Museum of Freedom. Mama Murphy spoke to him about her visions without hesitation. "You're the one I knew would come for us. I saw it." Her voice was sometimes quiet and at other times dragged out. Patches of dirt sat with her on the futon.
"What do you mean? How is that possible?"
"It's the chems, kid. They give 'Old Mama Murphy' 'the sight.' Been that way for as long as I can remember." She paused. A look of sadness fell across her face. "I didn't see the vault dweller or dogmeat though." The general was disturbed by the lack of clarity the vision held and promised himself he would never take any of these chems. He didn't wish to prod her into deeper sorrow, but he needed more answers. He wanted to know if she and her visions could be trusted.
"What is this 'sight?' you're talking about."
"I can see a bit of what was- and what will be- and even what is, right now." She gasped for breath. "And right now, I can see- there's somethin' comin'! Drawn by the noise a-and the chaos." She gestured with her hands as though measuring the size of the creature. "And it… is… angry." She sighed deeply after speaking. The chem use was taking its toll and the days on the run along with the raider attack hadn't helped.
"What is it you're seeing?" Looking back the general was uncertain- why had he asked this question? Perhaps it had just slipped out, or perhaps he was curious to see if "it" would come.
"I'm sorry, kid, but I just don't know. The sight ain't always clear- but believe me when I tell you- it ain't a raider." She paused, sorry she couldn't offer more. She was also worn out. Later the general would come to find out what she had seen. Even after this vision came true, the lack of detail in Mama Murphy's description left him dubious. The general chose not to trust in "the sight," but instead decided that it would be best to visit the Commonwealth's largest settlement because it must have the largest concentration of resources.
"Preston, establish recon on the Castle. I'm headed to Diamond City to get what we need."
"You won't regret trusting 'the sight,' kid. I never have." She seemed unaware that her visions did not affect the general's choice.
"I'll assemble a force near the location and wait for you there, general." Preston departed immediately. The general led Mama Murphy back to her chair. He unloaded the scrap he had gathered from his latest exploit and dumped it at the scavenger station before he set off towards Diamond City.
As Preston left Sanctuary he began to recall the remaining details of his rescue, but finding his own role and precise knowledge minimal, he decided, instead, to imagine himself in the role of the general. He traveled down to the basement of the museum and, with little effort, picked the locked door. Before him was a large generator from which he took the fusion core he required, putting it in his jacket. He ascending the stairs to the roof, finding the suit of T-45 power armor Sturges had told him would be there. Preston placed the fusion core in the suit's back and opened the suit, climbing inside. It closed comfortably around him. He looked up through the helmet to see the Vertibird that was also on the roof. Climbing through it he came to the minigun Sturges had also told him would be there. He checked to see that it was loaded. Then he grabbed ahold and prepared to struggle to rip it from its mount, but the added strength of the power armor made the task simple and the preparation unnecessary.
Preston heard shouts in the street and looked down oven the roof's edge. More raiders were converging on the museum, here to avenge their friends. Preston's minigun began to spin, and then to fire. The raiders died silently as each was half-vaporized by the incoming bullet, and as his or her blood was carried across the ground. When the raiders on the opposite rooftops and those coming up the side streets were eliminated, Preston leapt from the roof, landing with a loud clamor as he struck the sidewalk below, and refocused his fire on the raiders fleeing on the main road. The raiders no longer posed a threat to Preston, but they were raiders, and Preston was merciless.
They died much the same as the others, some falling upon two steel doors chained down on the road. Something mightily struck the doors from below and they bounced about a few times before a fearsome deathclaw burst up from the street, flinging what was left of the raiders' bodies into the air and off to the sides. Preston leapt back in shock, raising the minigun instinctively. The deathclaw gave a mighty roar and charged him. Preston's minigun began firing, the bullets striking the deathclaw about its knees. Preston began to raise the minigun as the beast rushed closer, the bullets skipping up the creature's body, flattening against its chest and head.
Preston prayed that the deathclaw would fall, but it did not. Instead the monster backhanded the armored Preston, knocking him onto his back and sliding him across the ground for a few feet. Preston had let go of the minigun when he was knocked over and now it lay ten feet behind him on the street, but the beast lay upon Preston. The deathclaw picked up the terrified Preston from the street and threw him towards the museum- and the minigun. Preston landed on his feet and stumbled backwards, running into the minigun and almost falling over. Preston latched onto the minigun again and fired into the beast as it thundered its voice into the air once more. The deathclaw came at Preston again. This time Preston ran. He retreated into one of the nearby buildings, where the creature found a great deal of trouble in reaching him. The monster violently tried to claw its way through the brickwork to prey on Preston once more, but his constant hail of bullets wore through the creature's thick hide at last. The deathclaw collapsed before the door. Preston dropped the minigun and, using the added strength of the power armor, forced the massive corpse out way, emerging victorious.
Preston went over each scene again and again in his head, modifying each to create the best and most exciting possible narrative. Soon he reached his destination and the limits of his imagination and returned to reality. It was time for him to gather the first of the new Minutemen, who would help to retake the Castle.