Ch. 03: Departure
The Citadel - A Ring, Mission Briefing Room.
"Sir! Reporting for duties, sir!" A young voice comes out of a power armor; standing in front of a group of scribes. Practically shouting.
"And who are you?" I asked.
"Initiate White, at your command, sir!" A shouting reply came back. Never heard that name. Must have been a squire until recently. Most likely an orphan rescued from raiders or super mutants.
"Right." I acknowledged. "As you should already know, our mission is to escort these five scribes..." I said, pointing at the scribes. "To the former Enclave stronghold called Adams Air Force Base."
"Should be no problem. Travel to the White House, then just sit back and watch the ghouls get torn to pieces by the metro. Right, sir?" spoke the time in a normal volume.
"Not to be a bearer of bad news..." One of the scribes spoke up. "but the train is out of commission since two days ago."
"Oh?" The initiate replied. Neither unnerved nor disappointed by the news.
Weird. New initiates are usually afraid of traveling far away from the Citadel on foot. Also, they should be hyped about riding a pre-war tech. Something is off.
While the conversation between the initiate and the scribe was going on, I walked over to a couch and sat down. Even with power armor on, strapping a barrel full of water onto brahmins are tiresome work. Speaking of weird, there are two more. For one, what crazy idiot decided that briefing room was an appropriate place for a couch; and second, how is this couch able to support the combined weight of me and my T-51b power armor.
"Now, that all of you know the situation…" I interrupted, as the conversation begun to sidetrack. "I expect to arrive at the base within five days."
"Five days, sir?" Another scribe asked. "By my calculations, it should only take one to two days."
"Yes five. Do you know why? Because I know for a fact that at least one of you will get injured on the way, and we have to stop to let him or her recuperate." I said, annoyed. "Any more questions?"
"No, sir!" Came the reply.
"Good. Make sure you have enough gear to last at least five days. If not, you have an hour to prepare. We will meet at the entrance then. Make sure not to be late. I want to get past the super mutant territory while the sun is still up, and rendezvous with our brethren at the obelisk by sunset. Now, dismissed." I told the group, as I got out of the couch.
As soon as I opened the doors to the armory, I was greeted by scribe Peabody. The Citadel's residing weapons specialist. Perfect, the load out he recommends never fails to carry out a mission. However the mission becomes hectic.
"Ah, knight. I'm surprised to see you. Shouldn't you be loading a brahmin or something?" He asked, mockingly.
"Well, I got lucky and got assigned to an escort mission. Say, shouldn't you be out in the field?" I replied, with a touch of counter mockery. Everyone knows that the scribe Peabody desperately wants to go out and do "field work"; so much so that he envies those under his command that can.
Ignoring my retort, he bent down next to a crate of weapons to continue taking inventory. "So, what are you looking for today?"
"A heavy weapon and a mid range non-automatic rifle. Also a side arm for external (outside of power armor) combat." I said, purposefully making the details vague. I would rather have the weapons specialist make the choices than screw up on the selection myself.
"A fat man, a laser rifle, and a laser pistol?" He said; as he got up from the bending position, with a fat man in one hand and a mini nuke in another.
Oh, that's right. I almost forgot that during the squire years, we were the two most rambunctious jokesters in the history of the Brotherhood. "Fat man!? Are you crazy? I'm going on a escort mission, not extermination!" I replied, barely holding my laughter to sound shocked.
"Oh right. A gatling laser then?" He recommended, amused.
"Nah, I'm more of 'bathing in the smell of gun powder' type."
"Gee, you sound like a tribal. A minigun, a hunting rifle, and a 10mm pistol then?"
Minigun; a heavy weapon that is most effective as a fear factor than anything else. Hunting rifle; powerful and has good range, and the best part is that both raiders and super mutants are using it. So, by dispatching them, I will never run out of ammunition. 10mm pistol; all around good weapon.
"Yeah, that sounds good." I applauded his selection.
Flying out of the Citadel's B ring, I mumbled to myself. "Geez, I wasted too much time talking." As I stumble through the bailey weighed down by a minigun holstered across my shoulder, I heard Paladin Gunny shouting at the new recruits and squires.
I reached the entrance just in time. Unfortunately, as I expected, all the member of this mission were already there; waiting.
"Sir, you are late." said the initiate. Oh good. At least his voice is normal and not shouting.
"What do you mean late. I'm two seconds early." I corrected. Give me a break. Even if I was late, it's no longer than a minute.
"You're the one that said 'don't be late,' sir." A scribe said, with a disapproving look.
At that moment, I saw a figure shift at the corner of my eyes. Paladin Bael, the gate keeper. I can just tell that under his stoic face, he is desperately keeping his laughter down.
Him and I, never got along. He enjoys watching the misfortune of others. He even locked me out of the Citadel once. A definite wasteland certified asshole.
"Fine, let's just get the show on the road, shall we?" I said, as I returned my attention to my group.
And so we left the Citadel behind us and walked into the sunset… or some crap like that. Also, the sun is still high...