"Morning, General."

Preston Garvey, my second in command, appeared as if summoned from thin air, laser musket held casually in both hands, and showing no signs of tiredness even at this early hour.

"Feeling all right? Because you look like crap, Sir."

He must have seen the look on my face, and he was quick to add a swift "No offence, Sir."

"None taken, Preston. I can't look half as bad as I feel."

Garvey was a good man, and a friend, as well as my second in command. Once or twice in the past, in my darker moments, I'd regretted ever getting involved with that little group besieged in Concord, though admittedly that was usually because Marcy Long had been on one of her little monologues. But Garvey made that crazy decision to face off against raiders and then the Deathclaw seem worthwhile, though I retained my suspicion of any plan Sturges came up with ever since.

"Anything new?" I asked. "I heard the guns firing just now."

Preston just shook his head. "Just some Brotherhood stragglers moving around in the ruins. We dropped a few shells and they crawled back under their rocks. I sent a patrol to check for casualties." Preston's face changed into a concerned frown. "They seem to be getting braver again, Sir."

Ah, the Brotherhood of Steel. Once, I'd thought they had the right idea, and there had been individuals I'd respected hugely. Danse, Haylen, Ingram. I regretted their deaths, almost as much as I did the deaths of those squires. Poor kids.

At least Danse and Haylen had died painlessly. I'd killed them myself, during the raid on the Cambridge Police Station. That had been hellish, but it was something I couldn't just delegate. It was personal, and I owed it to them.

After the Prydwen had gone down, and the Brotherhood's avenging air assault had failed, the remainder of the Brotherhood had been forced into guerrilla warfare. With most of their fleet of vertibirds burned with the Prydwen, or smashed apart by the Castle's missile turrets, their days of air superiority were long gone. Power armour was no guarantee of safety against artillery, and the Minutemen had numbers. Still, sooner or later, I knew they'd try something insanely brave, and I wasn't about to discount them as a beaten enemy just yet.

I ran a hand over my face, grimacing at the three weeks worth of beard.

"We'll keep an eye on them Preston, don't worry. Anything else that needs doing around here today?" I was hoping that there wasn't, so I could make the journey to Diamond City for a decent shave. But my second in command smiled. It was faint, and brief, but I saw it, and I couldn't stop from groaning.

"Well General, since you asked, I've got word about one of our settlements that needs some help..."