Chapter One: Westward

"Paladin?"

The loud thrum of the vertibird's engines almost drowned out the soft voice.

"Paladin?" Almost, but not quite.

John grunted, irritated that his rest was being disturbed. His eyes remained closed, armored arms still crossed stiffly over his chest. Even while seated his back and legs ached. It was like he had just hiked across half of the Wasteland, yet he knew for a fact that he had been on his butt for most of the day.

"Excuse me? Sir? Uh… Star Paladin Black?"

John grumbled, finally opening one eye to glare up at the nervous looking initiate. "What is it?"

"Sorry for the interruption, sir. But Sentinel Lyons is on the radio for you." The young man's eyes nervously looked about, seemingly too intimidated by his commander to look him in the eye.

"Fine, I'll take it on console four." John said, annoyance still evident on his voice. Christ, why can't that woman leave me alone for a few hours?

The initiate bowed before rushing off to the doors of the holding bay, eager to get back to his fellows.

The Star Paladin stood up from his uncomfortable perch on the small side seat and moved over across the cramped interior of the vertibird towards the corner where the communication panels were located. He attempted to stretch his stiff limbs, but the power suit he was wearing, as well as the low overhead of the vehicle, prevented such luxuries. He planted his heavy, armored form onto the comm console's metal seat and reached for the headset. Before putting it on, John made sure to pull out the tattered pieces of cloth he had been using as ear plugs. As the large, cushioned earphones fit snugly over his ears, the loud thrumming of the vertibird's propellers became somewhat muffled. As much as he enjoyed the troop carrier variant's extra space, John hated the extra noise its larger engines made. It made going to sleep all but impossible, and during these long flights the racket was pure hell.

"Hello? Sarah?" John asked as he spoke into the mic. Technically, he was violating procedure by not addressing her by rank. Thankfully, his position as Star Paladin, not to mention his close friendship with the Sentinel, allowed him some leeway.

"Star Paladin Black," Sarah's voice chimed in from the headset. "You don't sound too good."

"I'd like to see how well you'd fare after thirteen hours in this damn tin can," John grumped into the mic.

"Quit complaining. You should be proud of the fact that you're leading the first Brotherhood mission in one of our long-range fliers." Sarah's voice was annoyingly perky today, which only served to irritate John more. "Two thousand miles. That's the farthest any of the D.C. Brotherhood has gone. Well, except for the first generation guys that is. How's the bird's reactor holding out?"

John looked towards the cockpit, spying the two pilots calmly focused on their instruments. Since they weren't screaming and crying out in panic, he figured things with the vehicle were fine. "Peachy," he spoke into the radio. "She should hold together, both to our destination and back. I gotta hand it to the Scribes, they know their tech."

"It wasn't all us," Sarah said. "The Institute helped design the Mark 2's, remember?"

John frowned, feeling a foul taste in his mouth. "Don't remind me."

The Commonwealth, much to John's chagrin, had been accepted as a member state into the Capital Alliance several years back. Their acceptance was met by much derision from the local populace, with most of the complaints coming from the members of the Railroad. Many did not agree with the Commonwealth's treatment of their sentient androids, since they saw it as outright slavery. The Council disagreed though, seeing the Commonwealth's Institute as a great addition to the fledgling nation despite its faults.

For all intents and purposes, the wisdom of the Council seemed to have been proven right. With the Institute's technical prowess in the fields of medicine, engineering, and robotics, the Alliance was able to increase crop production, find new treatments for disease, and set new methods for rebuilding. By combining forces with the Brotherhood's scribes, the scientific advances and rediscoveries of lost Pre-War tech brought the Capital Alliance to new heights of prosperity. In just six short years, the Capital Wasteland went from an irradiated hellhole full of raiders, slavers and super mutants into a true nation with wealth, law, and peace, well on the path to rebuilding.

Of course, not everyone was happy. Chief Harkness almost quit his position as Rivet City's head of security upon hearing the news. It took all of John's persuasive skills to convince the android to remain in his position, as he could help his kind and fight the Institute more if he stayed on as one of Rivet City's managers.

"Like it or not, John, the Commonwealth is here to stay," Sarah told him over the radio, her voice soft but firm.

The Star Paladin sighed, remaining silent as he frowned at the comm panel. He wondered if Sarah was able to tell that he was frowning, and in all likelihood she probably could. He and the Sentinel had been through much together, from surviving the retaking of Project Purity from the Enclave to destroying the vile nest of filth that was Paradise Falls. The last few years had seen a great change to the Capital Wasteland, and for the better. As the Brotherhood and Rivet City's alliance grew into the beginnings of a true nation, the foundation was laid for a true, honest-to-God healing of the land. Even the dreaded super mutant threat had all but vanished, with only a few remaining pockets alive in the deeper parts of D.C. They were now merely a nuisance, and not the overwhelming threat that they were six years ago.

Before the silence on the line stretched out for any longer, John spoke up, voicing the thoughts that he was truly concerned about. "What about them? Are they going to be 'here to stay' as well?"

This time, it was Sarah who sighed. "Yes. Yes they are. John, look, I know you don't like it. Hell, I don't like it, either. But the Pitt is the largest manufacturing force in the entire East Coast. Hell, maybe even the continent. You know that a war with the Line is inevitable. The Alliance needs the Pitt's industrial might if we're to win."

So, John thought. They've been accepted.

The Pitt. From what he remembered, that place lived up to its name. The ruins of Pittsburg was a vile place: toxic and irradiated, filled with monsters, both literal and figurative. Ruled by a former Paladin of the Brotherhood of Steel, it was a den of inequity and injustice. Slavery formed the foundation of its existence. John once had a chance to destroy that lurid society himself, but was unable to do so. The price (the life of an innocent baby) was something he was unable to pay.

It was quite a shock to everyone when some months back, a delegation of slavers from the Pitt asked to meet with the Alliance's Council. The delegates were made up of Ashur's less offensive followers, and they had come to ask for permission to join the Alliance. It seemed that the Pitt was facing threat from Ronto, and despite Ashur's daily speeches about the Pitt's superiority, the slavers and raiders of that city were no match for their northern neighbor's more disciplined and numerous fighters.

"We need the Pitt's factories, and the Pitt needs the Alliance's food, water and protection." Sarah continued her speech, though John had heard most of it before. "The Line threatens everyone, John."

"And our safety will come at the cost of the Pitt's slaves. Their blood, sweat and lives will be sacrificed, and they'll have no choice but to give it." John's voice hissed into the mic, thus his words probably sounded garbled on the other end. "You weren't there, Sarah. You didn't see what Ashur and his thugs did to those people. You didn't see the hoplessness in their eyes." Or the betrayal when I refused to help them, he thought to himself.

"John. I'm sorry, I really am. I hate everything that the Pitt stands for as it goes against everything we in the Lyons' Chapter work to achieve. But the Line must be stopped, or else none of us will have a future."

The Star Paladin remained silent, unable to argue with Sarah's logic. The Line was a threat, perhaps the biggest threat to the Capital Wasteland since the Enclave. It would take everything they had to take on those insane pirates. But to ally with the Pitt? Allowing slavers to join the organization he had helped build up from nothing just left a bad taste in his mouth.

"So," Sarah spoke up, seeing that John wasn't saying much on his end, "how much longer until you reach the Mojave?"

John checked his Pip-Boy. "Four more hours by my count."

"Good," Sarah said, sounding pensive. "Listen, this is the first time in over a decade that we've heard anything from the West Coast Order. Father thought that all the chapters loyal to Lost Hills had shunned us. It was quite a surprise to get a message from the Mojave chapter, especially one asking for assistance."

It was indeed quite a surprise. John didn't really fully understand the significance, but many of the original Brotherhood members went into a frenzy when they received that strange message from out west. From what he could understand, the Capital Wasteland Brotherhood was just an off-shoot of the original order, which was based somewhere in California. It seemed that those on the East Coast weren't too popular with the older folks, since Elder Lyons basically ignored the Brotherhood's mandate of acquiring technology and instead following his conscience and protecting the innocents of D.C. So perhaps it made sense that after all this time, for the original order to come calling and asking for help would be a big deal. Especially to those who might still have friends and family out west.

And so, Star Paladin John Black, the hero of the Capital Wasteland, and widely known by Three Dog's nickname of "The Lone Wanderer," found himself leading a small team of Knights on a fact finding mission out west to Nevada. Since their messages to the Mojave chapter were going unanswered, Elder Lyons dispatched him to ascertain what was going on and if the message was genuine.

"Don't worry, I'm on it. I'll see what these guys want, and hopefully we'll be able to give it to them." John leaned back in his chair as another thought occurred to him. "Hey, Sarah. I was just wondering. Wouldn't it have been better if you or one of the original guys came to lead this mission? From what you told me, these West Coast folks aren't too fond of outsiders."

There was soft laughter on the other end of the line. "That's exactly why we sent you. You are our most effective soldier. Next to me, of course."

"Of course," John stated automatically.

"We want to show those old fools back in Lost Hills that outsiders can be just as loyal and able as any from the original bloodlines. Maybe after you help them out, they'll see what we in the East have known all along and they'll change their arcane policies."

"Well, it's really nice to know you have such a high opinion of me," he said, smirking into the mic.

Another bout of soft laughter reached him from the earphones. "Don't get a swelled head, Star Paladin Black. It doesn't fit your 'Lone Wanderer' mystique."

"Perish the thought. I wouldn't wanna ruin my reputation. Three Dog would kill me."

"Damn straight. Now why don't you go get some sleep? You sound like you need it, and I need to get back to work."

John groaned. "Like I can sleep in this noisy rust bucket." He then chuckled into the mic and leaned in close. Whispering, he said, "Hey, Sarah… Have I ever told you what a soothing voice you have? Why don't you sing me a lullaby so I can get some rest?"

There was a bark of laughter from the other end, followed by the Sentinel's chiding tone. "You ass. Why'd you have to make me laugh like that? Now all the communication officers are looking at me funny." There was the sound of shuffling, followed by a click of some instruments. "Look, I really got to go. I'll sing to you when you get back."

"Promises, promises."

"GOODBYE, John," Sarah interrupted, the smile obvious in her voice. "Sentinel Lyons, over and out."

John smiled as he leaned back in his chair. As always, talking with Sarah Lyons managed to ease his irritated demeanor. His good spirits diminished slightly though when he checked his Pip-Boy and he saw how much time he had left in the flight.

"Damn," he muttered. "I think I would've liked it better if we'd walked there…"


APPENDIX

Vertibird Mark 2: The Alliance's designation for the second generation vertibird vehicle, which was designed through cooperation between the Brotherhood of Steel Scribes and Institute scientists. The Mk 2 comes in two variants: gunship and long-distance transport. The gunship variant boasts superior armor and firepower from the Mk 1, which was the basic VB-02 used by the Enclave. The transport variant, though lighter in weaponry and armor, is much larger than the standard vertibirds and is able to travel much longer distances. It can also carry a larger payload of supplies and troops, allowing the Alliance battlefield superiority due to their dominance of the sky.

Capital Alliance: A federation of communities from within and around the Capital Wasteland. As of 2283, it is made up of Rivet City, the Citadel, Vault 101, Megaton, Underworld, Big Town, and the Commonwealth. The Pitt has been granted membership and will officially join within a few months. The Alliance started as an economic alliance between Rivet City and the Brotherhood of Steel, but quickly grew into a major governing body in the Wasteland. The member states all contribute to the Alliance through trade, supply of arms and soldiers. Although the Brotherhood is the non-official defacto army of the Alliance, the other member states still have their own militia regiments. Its capital is Rivet City.

The Line: A sea-faring raider group that operates from parts unknown in the Atlantic Ocean. They attack from the sea using Pre-War naval equipment such as amphibious landing craft, naval power armor, carrier launched jet airplanes, and even battleships and aircraft carriers. Although their origins are a mystery, the Brotherhood theorizes that they are descendants of survivors from the US Second Fleet who escaped the destruction of the bombs by staying out at sea. The Line was unknown to the Alliance until two years ago, when their ships first started appearing in Chesapeake Bay. They began attacking small settlements along the bay, stealing not only food, water, and weapons but men and women as well. Although they have yet to attack the Capital Wasteland region, their use of Pre-War tech and weaponry have made them a serious threat in the eyes of the Brotherhood. Many believe it is only a matter of time before they turn their sights to the growing wealth of the Alliance.