Chapter 2: Long Days of Steel


Danse stomped back aboard the Prydwen after another routine patrol, giving the vertibird pilot a thanking gesture of the hand. His power armour whirred and clanked as he moved aside to allow the scribes he had escorted past his bulk. They had performed well during the research expedition, despite their lack of protective armour, and he made a mental note to commend them in his report.

Pulling off his helmet, he breathed in the cold air of the flight deck as it whipped through the catwalks. From up here, one had the perfect view of the Commonwealth below in all its ruined glory. Even bared down to its crumbling skeleton, Boston was still a site to behold and a marvel of pre-war human engineering. If only it counted for something back then other than the satisfaction of a greedy, materialistic society.

Danse was catching himself in these moments of rumination more and more often lately, and it was disconcerting. His mind was liable to wander even on duty, and he didn't have to remind himself of how tactically dangerous and irresponsible that was. Since when did he ever have problems staying focused in the field?

He thought it was ever since Ilya.

The moment she charged into the fight outside the police station, only a 10mm in hand but a crackshot in skill, he was intrigued. But back then, mission focus was his only intent, and he had been quick to seize the opportunity she represented and enlisted her support. The following retrieval from the ArcJet Systems complex had been proof enough of her potential; she was Brotherhood material. From then on, taking her under his wing had not only been a tactical advantage, but a... personal one. Something he was still trying to wrap his head around. He had never encountered such a dauntless yet endearing woman.

And now she was out of his reach, chasing her son's trail to the most dangerous ends of the Commonwealth, and he let her stand on that damn machine and be at the whim of unknown technology without even a word of protest, because it would have been unprofessional. Because it was against decorum. Because he must set an example. Because he was an idiot.

Two days had passed since Ilya disappeared in a spasm of blue, and all he could do to prevent himself wandering the Wastes in search of her was to assign himself to every possible research patrol and maintain his suit like there was no tomorrow.

Frowning, Danse rotated and began to march down the railing for the Prydwen's Command Deck, only to be stopped by a young initiate.

"Paladin Danse, sir," she began in rigid practice, and Danse recognised that enthusiastic display of servitude and pride he had seen in so many young initiates before her. The drive in the young ones was always outstanding to witness. "Elder Maxson wishes to speak with you in his quarters, immediately," the initiate informed.

Thanking and dismissing her, the paladin made his way up to the main deck, silently wondering what could be so urgent. Rapping his armoured knuckles on the bulkhead as lightly as he could manage, he was given curt permission to enter, and was soon face-to-face with Elder Arthur Maxson, the twenty-year-old man who had been destined and conditioned to lead the Brotherhood of Steel since he was a young boy. The younger man gestured for Danse to seal the bulkhead behind him.

"Reporting as ordered, Elder," Danse stated, allowing a leak of curiosity through his voice.

"I see you've been keeping yourself busy, Paladin," Maxson began, strolling loosely across from his desk to greet one of his most trusted officers. "I've had numerous complaints that you've been harassing the younger initiates over minor discrepancies."

That was the last thing Danse was expecting to hear. He had to refrain from blanching. "Discrepancies, sir?"

Maxson came to a halt before him and slowly locked his hands behind his back, face deadpan. "A terminal left on standby, a single tool left out of place, and mismatched socks, to name a few."

For a moment, Danse only stared at his elder, any words stunned out of him. Was this serious? Maybe he had been a little restless over the past few days, and maybe he had snapped a few times at some undeserving subordinates, but did all that really warrant filing complaints against him? He didn't know whether to stay shocked or turn to anger.

"I... uh..." he stammered, quickly taming a frown and shuffling his armour's weight on the spot. "How many complaints, might I ask, sir?"

"None," Maxson was quick to let up. "Of course, I'm just pulling your leg, Danse." The paladin took a second to register the situation and Maxson's dry, stony idea of humour, but then he let out a small huff of amusement. Maxson had caught him completely off guard.

Danse grinned. "Long day, Arthur?"

"Like any other," Maxson sighed. It was only in small pockets of times like these that Maxson relented his harsh demeanour, and then only before the likes of Danse and few others. Danse knew him well enough to know how important making an example of himself for his men and women was to him. If Maxson allowed any cracks to show through, it could shake up the Brotherhood and potentially splinter it all apart. Appointing the right elder after Lyons passed had been a struggling time for them all, and no one was forgetting how fragile it all was any time soon. Maxson carried the responsibility of continuity on his shoulders with unflinching valour. There was no one Danse admired more.

"I will mention that Knight-Captain Cade came to me with concerns over your constant activity as of late, and Proctor Ingram has noticed you using the workshops into the late hours on several occasions. You've always been driven, Danse, but this seems excessive. Off the record, might there be something bothering you?"

Maxson rarely spoke off the record. Danse felt a certain responsibility to tell him the truth, that he had let emotional entanglement conflict with his duty to the Brotherhood. Surely to confide this wouldn't cause a backlash. It was just a little lapse in focus. "To tell you the truth, Arthur," Danse sighed to stall for a moment. On second thought, he realised that in telling of how worried he was of Ilya's status, Maxson may take steps to put distance between the two. He was aware how much of an asset he was to Maxson, and Ilya was no ordinary addition to the Brotherhood, but an advantage against the Institute. He might realise that with the two of them sharing a strong bond, they could have the potential to become more of a liability than an asset to him if the situation ever changed.

Besides, Danse had never had such a friend before, not since Cutler.

"...I've never felt better. If I'm behaving strangely, then it's only because I'm so eager to take the fight to the Institute."

Maxson eyed him for a moment, but he seemed to be convinced as he nodded approvingly. "You've been in the field so long during recon, it will probably take some time to get used to the sense of safety aboard the Prydwen. In any event, Knight Harper's eventual return will speed things back up for you. No doubt you'll be looking forward to the reunion."

Danse nodded firmly to his elder's close inspection. "Absolutely. Any intel she brings back will be invaluable to our campaign here, along with Doctor Li's assistance."

"Now, I didn't call you in here just for the camaraderie," Elder Maxson went on, slipping back into his authority. "What I have for you may keep you tied over until then, if in fact my intuition is correct here." Danse's ears perked up as he watched Maxson pace over to his desk. "I've been getting increasing reports of raider activity stepping it up a notch across the Commonwealth, but more specifically outside our intended hotzone. Now usually we wouldn't pay much mind to these disorganised scum, but recent reports have me concerned." He picked up a folder from the desktop and moved to hand it to Danse. "All of the accumulated intel is in there, including a detailed lay of the region."

Danse skimmed over the map quickly before giving his attention back to Maxson. "What's the significance of their activity in relation to our mission, sir?"

"Nothing, other than the risk of our power in the Commonwealth, Paladin. If these raiders have the capability to rally and influence numerous other raider groups in this region, then we could have a widespread rebellion on our hands, and one with an edge. Scouts have traced the origin of their activity back to the exact region where we have records of a 'Vault Prototype: 1D.' Now the records we have of this vault were vague, merely a mentioning and a designated location of interest for construction, but we know that if it does exist, it can explain anomalies reports have mentioned of these raider advances."

"Anomalies..." Danse didn't like the sound of that.

"Such as an unidentified specimen outbreak. These creatures were observed being 'swapped' across from one raider to another, latching themselves to the nape of the neck and inducing convulsions and eventual incapacitation in their hosts. Upon awakening, each observed raider seemed to display superior strength, endurance, and agility. Whether the origin of these specimens was a mutation or the result of Vault-Tec experimentation is unknown, but they cannot be allowed to spread further. So far, any other enhancements or side effects are yet to be confirmed, which is where you come in, Paladin Danse."

From the lingering expression of disgust on Maxson's face, Danse knew that these creatures were in utmost need of eradication. "Ready, Elder," he declared with hardened vigour.

"Good," Maxson obviously expected nothing less. "I want you to capture one of these infected raiders, and bring them back to the base site we've set up for examination, which will be marked in that folder. We can't risk a contagion at the airport or aboard the Prydwen. If you could secure a host with a specimen still attached, that would be preferential, but if not, just the host will suffice. You may leave via vertibird first thing in the morning. Lancer-Captain Kells will go over mission details in more depth before departure. Any questions?"

"None, sir. Consider it done."

"Very well. Ad victoriam, brother."

"Ad victoriam."


A/N: Thanks for reading! I was going to hold off on uploading ch2 and space them out, but Christmas Eve gift for the early followers :) I hope I did both Danse and Maxson justice. Had a lot of fun writing the two.