The surviving Brotherhood of the Capital Wastelands sat in silence on the flight west, most of them asleep or close to
it. The pilots were staying awake from mentats, not that they were proud of it. Still, they needed the heightened boost of
awareness to stave off the sandman. Arthur himself couldn't sleep; now that he was out of any immediate danger his mind
had drifted back to mourn. There were no tears, though. Only silent reflection. None of them could have known the Wanderer
would turn on them, how could they? He had helped the Lyon's Pride fight their way through the DC Ruins to the GNR
building. He killed a super-mutant behemoth there, he'd heard. He had come to them seeking asylum and sanctuary for the
scientists of Project Purity. And he even teamed up with the Lyon's Pride once more to storm the Project! Of course,
Arthur had heard rumors that the Wanderer himself didn't activate the purifier; with the control room full of radiation he
had asked a ghoul follower of his to do it for him. His virtuous nature began to be questioned there in the Squire's mind.
He wondered what else the Wanderer could have been responsible among the wastes: the destruction of Megaton? Of the
fabled Oasis? The massacre of Underworld? The rash of slavings that had been taking place lately?
Who would doubt it at this point?
And with that final thought Arthur lost his struggle and succumbed to the realm of dreams.
The super-mutant roared as Arthur leveled his laser rifle at its head and squeezed off a shot, the red beam connecting
with its flesh and making it pop and sizzle. As it howled in pain Arthur wasted no time in performing a jumping spin kick
and caving in its skull. Mutie bastard. As it fell dead Arthur turned behind him to fire two more lances into the awaiting
mutants. One was way taller than all the others but now he was blind. Arthur chose him and ran up his torso, standing on
his shoulders in perfect balance and squeezing the trigger of his rifle at anything yellow in the sea of war surrounding
him. They were winning. The Brotherhood just couldn't be beat. It was impossible. With their impenetrable armor and
advanced weaponry they would not only take back this wasteland but they would tame it, and they would rule it. Nothing
could stop them. Nothing-
A flash of light engulfed Arthur's vision as a wave of heat spread over him-
He awoke with a start, gasping for air. The usual thrum of the Vertibirds rotors reverberated all around him, as did the
brisk tone of the pilot attempting a hail.
"This is East Coast Brotherhood of Steel squad Lyon's Pride. I repeat, this is the East Coast Brotherhood of Steel.
Requesting assistance from any remaining Brotherhood personnel in the area, I repeat, requesting assistance. The Citadel
has been lost and our order shattered. Requesting assistance." the pilot informed his headset before clicking it off.
"Where are we?" Arthur asked no one in particular, rubbing the gunk out of his eyes and trying to get over his nightmare.
"Just outside Chicago, Squire." Vargas answered him, looking over at him from the other side of the Vertibird.
"Any hope they'll contact us?" Arthur couldn't help but ask.
"Well," Glade spoke up suddenly. "On our first run through we established contact, but they informed us they had no
interest of returning to the fold. Said the Brotherhood had 'no more sight on what was good for humanity anymore than a
blind mole rat.' So we left them to do as they wished. But now... pretty sure that doesn't matter anymore huh?"
His words almost prophetic, the Vertibird's radio crackled with return static.
"East Coast contingent this is Bunker Alpha, your request for assistance has been approved. Please proceed to these
coordinates." an authoritative voice spoke through the speakers before rattling off a string of numbers. Arthur felt the
knot in his chest lessen considerably.
"Well I'll be damned." Dusk grumbled admirably.
"Yeah, I'll admit I didn't have much hope for the plan either..." Glade conceded sheepishly.
"It doesn't matter. We're back with the Brotherhood, Codex or not." Vargas solemnly said, and Arthur couldn't agree more.
When they landed the Vertibird and exited, things didn't seem quite right.
For one thing, their fellow Brothers had their weapons drawn on them.
For another, all their gear appeared to be Enclave.
And finally, four abnormally hairy deathclaws flanked all sides of them in the ring set around their Vertibird.
Arthur was beginning to suspect that this was a clever ruse by the Enclave until a voice barked through the air.
"Brotherhood, stand down!"
All the Enclave in the area suddenly motioned their barrels to point at the ground and Arthur knew that at least they
weren't immediately hostile. Now that he wasn't fearing for his life he noticed that not everything about their gear was
Enclave; although there were a plethora of plasma rifles, here and there were the Brotherhood's laser rifles. And their
armor. Although at first glace it seemed Enclave in appearance, the helmet was completely different. It was far more
rounded like a human skull and had what appeared to be pronged horns protruding from the temples. But the rest of their
armor was almost completely Enclave in appearance, despite the Brotherhood of Steel insignia painted on their pauldrons.
The ring of steel opened for man armored in what appeared to be Tesla Mk II, a gatling laser strapped to his back.
"So you're what's left of the East Coast Brotherhood huh?" a gritty voice blared through the external speakers.
"That's right. We were betrayed. A trusted ally blew everyone to hell."
"Damn. How'd they manage that?"
"Orbital strike via satellite onto our base of operations."
The Knight let out a low whistle. "So what made you come this way? No other options?"
"Exactly."
"Well, I hate to break it to you pal, but just in case you haven't heard our names have all been struck from the Codex.
Lost Hills claims we're all rouge now. Shame really because we control about half the goddamn country and got tech they'd
wet themselves for back there. Don't think you'd want to sully your name with the likes of us." the Knight paused as he
seemed to notice Arthur. "Who's the kid?"
"Squire Maxson, descendant from the Founder John Maxson." Vargas announced casually and immediately caused a buzzing of
murmurs among the attending Knights.
"Oh you gotta be shitting me are you for real?" Arthur could hear the Knight exclaim and Arthur couldn't help but notice
his language was far more coarse than any of the other Brothers he'd interacted with. Except maybe in the field.
"Dead serious." Vargas replied grimly.
"Well that just changes the situation dramatically don't it?" the Knight sighed. "Okay, obviously this is going to require
a bit of finesse. So for now, you stay. Katana squad, stay here and guard this bird until we can figure out what to do
with it. The rest of you escort the East Coasters here into Bunker Alpha. Take them to the mess hall and then back to your
assigned duties." the Knight barked authoritively, falling in line with the Lyon's Pride as they began a march north.
"I need to get in touch with my superiors back in Colorado and more likely than not they'll want to speak with you. I
assume you're the one in charge here?" he asked Vargas as they marched northward, six of the other Knights staying behind
to guard their vehicle.
"Affirmative. Paladin Vargas, at your service." Vargas nodded and held out his hand.
"Paladin Lord Garson, at yours." the Knight told him as they shook hands.
Author's Note: The power armor the Midwestern Brotherhood wears IS Enclave (advanced Mk II) armor but they've integrated their original power armor helms to complement it. The reason for this will be explained next chapter.
Also, if you've made it this far and don't think it's complete trash, how about a review? Hell, even if you think it IS trash write a review. Although why you made it to the fourth chapter on a shit story is beyond me.