Been a while huh? I thought of this one on a whim and thought "What could go wrong?"
The Institute is a marvel of science, engineering, and biology. They have made leaps and bounds in the recent centuries and have not stopped since. There were only two thorns in their side as time went on; the Railroad and the Brotherhood of Steel. The Railroad was annoying more than any real threat, but they were enough of a problem to be there, so they sent Father's trusted successor, once he passed, to eliminate them. They only asked for a small nuclear explosive charge and headed out. Several of their synth crows were vaporized as the Old North Church exploded in a fiery inferno.
This only left a single threat to the Institute: The BoS.
"All parties are present, so let this meeting begin." Begins Father as the meeting drags onward. Nate could appreciate the advances made in the last week, but very little has changed with the exception of the Railroad blowing up. Speaking of… "I would like to congratulate our 'enforcer' who operates above and below ground for eradicating a threat that has been nagging at us for too long. The so-called 'saviors' of synths has been completely eradicated most effectively. The Railroad is dead."
The directors present began to applaud hesitantly. He gave a silent nod and a smirk under the helmet, for he knew why they were afraid. He had not cleaned the power armor suit after the massacre. He had looted the place empty, and everything that looked like Institute property, prototypes made by "Tinker" Tom, and every synth component he had found was handed over. The thieves had somehow gotten their grubby hands on a courser chip, which he handed to the head of Robotics, he had never bothered to learn any of the director's names. They drone on for a bit longer, and he spaces out.
"With the Railroad eliminated as a threat, this only leaves the Brotherhood of Steel as our enemy." Father stated. "They have several outposts other than the Boston Airport, but we have the advantage of our new reactor as power. I have received word that a virus has been under development for the past few months for Liberty Prime and will rewrite his coding to recognize their airship as a Communist air invasion attempt. So, father, we only need you to destroy the generators that power their EM field, throw down the relay beacons, and protect the virus carrier. Understand?"
Nate clears his throat, and speaks for the first time in the meeting. "Actually, I have a better idea than that. More ironic. More destructive. And one helluva lot funnier." The directors looked confused, how could he have a better idea than them? And more importantly, funnier?
"When traveling with X6-88, he mentioned that you tried to send a team of synths to repair the giant Mr. Handy statue at the General Atomics Galleria, only to discover it was hollow. We discovered Saugus Ironworks, a factory taken over by a raider gang known as the Forged, was still in decent operation. There is a General Atomics factory located in the Commonwealth that has schematics for various units, including Mr. Handys, Gutsys, and Mrs. Nannies. The Brotherhood hates rampant technology, and what better way to destroy them is with irony? Who understands what I'm talking about right now?" He asks.
Doctor Madison Li audibly gasps, grasping the concept immediately. "You don't mean…" she begins. "That you plan to make a giant Mr. Handy unit and have it destroy the Prydwen? The components needed, the level of intricacy…"
"Which is exactly why we're gonna make it bigger. More room for finer details to be perfect, and besides, you all have enough resources. If need be, we use Saugus to cast parts and to use assembly. And there's more than enough scrap to use out there. The factory has the schematics needed to make one of these suckers, and probably has the AI somewhere on site. We make one, maybe a few, and shove 'em out the door to take down an airship." Nate explains, overconfidence definitely present.
"The only problem I can see is how we're going to get that much fuel." Father speaks up. "All Mr. Handy units are propelled by a flame engine. How could we be able to get that much fuel on such short notice?" The idea was seeming less and less ideal the longer they sat on the information.
"You know, prewar we had this stuff called "vegetable oil."" Nate commented. "In the military I took a class on it. We could do it with only a few synths working the line. Maybe a week to make enough gallons of fuel."
Father was torn. He knew that they had been preparing the virus for several years and he was unwilling to let it all go to waste. But, there was a small part of him that screamed at his rationality to just do the Mr. Handy option. His logic failed to smother it, and it kept getting louder. Soon, every part of him except his logic was screaming a symphony of "DO IT!" and logic could not win alone. "Let's give it a shot."
2 weeks later…
Elder Maxson looked out at the Commonwealth with a critical eye. He knew that he could not see any synths preparing to storm the airport, but he had a feeling that something was up. There was no activity from the Institute in over two weeks. There had to be something, he thought to himself, something big. Even through the thick glass he heard the voice clear as day.
"ALRIGHT YOU MAGGOTS, STAND IN LINE!" Screamed the unmistakable voice of a Mr. Gutsy. But how could it be that loud? It was outside the Prydwen and it was LOUD. He ran outside to the main deck, and what he saw shocked him.
There, before him, was a 50 ft. tall Mr. Gutsy painted Institute White. It was surrounded by much smaller units, around 20 ft. high with similar coloring. Behind them was an army of synths, but not regular ones. These were wearing a uniform white suit of X-01 power armor with the symbol of the Institute above their left breast. They were in lines and were taking orders from the Mr. Gutsy.
"TAKE YOUR STANCES, AND PREPARE TO FIRE!" Yelled the Gutsy, raising its buzzsaw arm. Maxson only had a few seconds to say to himself, 'Son of a-!' before they fired. Laser shots cascaded around them, disintegrating a scribe instantaneously. "Retreat!" Yelled Maxson.
Before they could follow orders, synths began to appear on the deck. "YOUR COMMUNIST RELAY BLOCKER WAS NO MATCH FOR AMERICAN TECHNOLOGY!" The Gutsy's arm had collided with the EM Field generators. In a desperate bid for survival he shouted to activate Liberty Prime. When he activated, however, he was no longer on their side.
"UPDATED TACTICAL ASSESSMENT. RED CHINESE PRESENCE DETECTED. AERIAL INCURSION BY COMMUNIST FORCES CANNOT SUCCEED. INITIATING DIRECTIVE 7395: DESTROY ALL COMMUNISTS." He shouted with power and democracy. "ATTENTION ALL COMMUNISTS. IF YOU SURRENDER TO THE MIGHT OF AMERICA, YOU WILL NOT BE HARMED. LAY DOWN YOUR WEAPONS AND YOU SHALL RECEIVE A CLEAN DEATH, ONE UNDESERVING OF YOUR PARTY." With no other option, Maxson surrendered.
"HA! YOU THINK WE WOULD ALLOW COMMUNISTS A CLEAN DEATH?! TROOPS, FIRE AT THE DESIGNATED POINT!" The giant Gutsy shouted. All synths began to fire at a certain point. There was now a small hole in the Prydwen's massive armor. "RUNNING PROTOCOL ending:blow 12 GAMMA ALPHA. I'LL SEE YOU IN HELL, COMMIE!" With that, he fired a burst of flame right into a hydrogen bladder.
From over a mile away on top of the Mass Fusion building, the Institute Directors and the true father watched as their troops were relayed away as the zeppelin burst into flame. The boon they had received was massive; no Brotherhood, Liberty Prime, and a shiny new battalion of Gutsy's. Nate laughed at how easy it was to take them down. For claiming to have used technology for the betterment of man, they sure did fall to their own hubris easily. "And that's what they get for killing our property."