A/N: I had intended this chapter to be released almost a week before but 1) Procrastination had gotten the better of me. My college habits refuse to leave and have carried over into the world of writing and 2) this chapter took me so long to finish and by the time I did, I was staring at a 15k word monstrosity that I'm pretty sure was snarling at me so I had to split it in two parts.
Even then, this chapter is long enough on its own, and I honestly don't think I've interrupted the flow of the buildup towards the coming battle. Part I takes place the day and night before the Battle of Bunker Hill and Part II, which I'll get around to posting possibly around next week after a few tweaks, takes place in the morning before the battle. A third chapter of TWATN should be out by next week as well or the one after.
Just a heads up, from here on out, this story will slightly deviate from canon as you will see. I hope you enjoy!
…
"Here he is, General."
Captain Sturnn led Preston down into the tunnels beneath the Castle. He had been rather curious on how the captain knew so much about a potential takeover of Bunker Hill, so she instead mentioned how she would rather show him and brought the General to one of the rooms that had been recently cleared of pests and debris.
A large table in the center came into view, along with an adult male who was sitting at the far end of it. His eyes kept roaming around as he fidgeted, a nervous look in his eyes. It would seem that the captain had turned this space into an interrogation room of sorts and Preston was not liking it.
"Care to explain this to me, Kayla?" He turned to face the woman with a frown etched on his face. Bringing in people for a private interrogation…this was not the Minutemen's way of doing things and Kayla better have a damn good reason for resorting to this kind of tactic.
"Easy there, General," she said as she raised her hands up defensively, "I brought him in for questioning, but it's not like I tortured him or anything."
"Very reassuring," he responded sarcastically, a trait he was not known for until Aveline's influence rubbed off on him, "And why did you think it was necessary to bring in someone for interrogation?"
The woman sighed as she folded her arms under her chest as she gave a quick glance to the other person.
"Two days ago, Sergeant Dunham and his patrol team set out from County Crossing to do their usual route near the BADTFL Offices," she began, watching her 'prisoner' from the corner of her eye, "Along the way, they passed by a rundown house where this fellow here…" she gestured towards him, "…was seen talking to an individual in a clean back trench coat who was accompanied by two of those old model synths. You know…the ones that look like metal skeletons."
"A black trench coat? Are you telling me they encountered a Courser?!" Preston eyebrows shot up in disbelief.
Coursers were supposedly known as the elite of the Institute's synthetic enforcers and though they rarely operated within the public eye, they were a serious threat when encountered. He had made it clear to everyone in the Minutemen that there was little need to risk fighting one if they ran across them in the wasteland. As long as they were not attacking settlements or caravans, they were to be avoided at all costs.
"Yes, they did," the captain confirmed, "They knew your order, but the courser noticed Dunham and his group and opened fire on them before they could fall back. Fortunately, Corporal Rikke managed to fend off the attack in her power armor while the others took care of the synth bodyguards. The courser was wounded but he disappeared before we could capture him or finish him off. Dunham and Private Jenkins were wounded but they're already making a speedy recovery, while Rikke's armor took a moderate amount of damage but the needed repairs won't be costly."
Like many others in the Commonwealth, Kayla had held reservations about the idea of fighting Institute coursers. But while the reasoning of others was that they were afraid of coming face to face with those emotionless killing machines, the captain sought to assess the extent of their strength and combat effectiveness before deciding whether well-equipped squads were free to engage them in combat or not.
Ever since Lieutenant Strauss took out that Courser at Greenetech Genetics, the news had spread amongst the Minutemen ranks like a raging wildfire and some began to question if the boogeyman's enforcers that they have long feared could actually be stopped. If a mere vault dweller was able to take one down (even though she had the synth detective and ghoul mayor at her side at the time, the odds were presumably still not in their favor), then any cautious and well trained wastelander might have a chance to stand up to them.
Coursers have indeed been known to have slaughtered many people at the behest of the Institute, but Kayla realized that many of their known victims so far had been defenseless (or at best, poorly armed) civilians, and cowering, runaway synths, which led to her conclusion that if they were pitted against better armed and better trained fighters, then they were no bigger a threat than any other wasteland scoundrel or wild creature.
Those mechanical lapdogs of the Institute were definitely cold, effective, and certainly tenacious, but they were not as invincible or as unstoppable as the fearful citizens and braggart scientists made them out to be.
"And…" the captain walked away from Preston and made her way to the other end of the table, standing behind her prisoner as she slapped a hand on his shoulder, causing him to jump in his seat, "…They managed to nab this guy before he could run off back to Bunker Hill. Jim is a caravan guard for one of Stockton's trading outfits and from what he's told me so far, there is a lot of dirt to be had on almost everyone there."
Kayla leaned in on the man, a hardened expression on her face as she whispered in his ear, quiet enough that Preston wouldn't hear her lest he interrupt her 'bad cop' routine.
"You're going to tell the General everything you told me. If I find you were lying or purposefully leading us off, I will paint the walls of this room with your brains. Are we clear?"
Jim sat very still as he tried to hide the fact that he was scared shitless of the woman.
"Crystal, ma'am," he whimpered. At that, Kayla walked away and returned to stand by Preston's side.
"So…" she began, "First things first. The General would like to know what your deal with the Institute is."
"The Institute…" he spoke, almost whispered, "Those fellas always come to us looking for information. Since were a trading hub and all, a lot of stories and rumors end up being passed around there, the kind that even those mystery folk want to listen in on."
"Hold on a moment," Preston interrupted before the man could continue, "You're telling me that most of the people and merchants there double as informants for the Institute?"
"It's not like we have much of an option," the man retorted, shaking his head, "They pay us well for whatever information we could offer them. Important stuff, like possible Railroad activities, rumors or clues that lead to runaway synths, and…uh," he quickly shut himself up and the two Minutemen noticed that he was now more nervous than ever, looking around the room as if searching for a possible escape route.
"Go on…" Preston insisted as he and Kayla both quirked an eyebrow at him and when the caravan worker realized there was no way out of this, he sighed.
"…Uh…they…they've also asked some of our traveling caravans to…spy on the Minutemen, on your settlements. Any settlement we go to, we're supposed to keep count on guards, defenses and other points of interest…" he trailed off when he noticed the two of them staring back at him.
Preston sighed, shaking his head wearily with a disappointed look on his face but Kayla's expression immediately twisted into a snarl, a murderous gleam in her eyes which had their 'guest' praying for the ground to open and swallow him up.
"Funny. It seemed you forgot to mention that last part to me," the captain said as she strode over to the man. She grabbed him with both hands by the collar of his shirt, lifted him up from the chair and slammed him into the wall behind him, "And you still haven't answered my question, so let's try again. What kind of information were you selling to that Courser?"
Her grip on the man's shirt tightened as she got up into his face.
"Answer me before I personally drag you into the Glowing Sea and feed your soon-to-be dead carcass to a fucking Deathclaw!"
The caravan employee blanched under the forceful grip of the Heavy Infantry commander, lips twitching as he tried to say something but words wouldn't come to him.
Kayla eased up a little when she felt Preston grip her arm lightly. She then let go completely and backed up a little as she continued to glare at the man, who by some miracle had not crumpled to the floor with how his knees were shaking. The General then turned to look at him.
"Look kid, I think it would be better for all of us if you tell us everything that you know," Preston said before he sighed, "You told my captain here that the Railroad were setting up shop at Bunker Hill, while the Institute and the Brotherhood also seem to have an interest in that place. What are they after?"
"I-uh…I…I," he stammered with a shaky voice.
"C'mon, take a deep breath," Preston assured, hands clasped behind his back, "I'm not gonna lie. You're in a lot of hot water with us. But the Minutemen need your cooperation if we are going to fix this mess that you seem to have created for yourselves. So…what will it be?"
Kayla tapped her foot impatiently but the General shot her an annoyed look, to which she relented, though not without grumbling under her breath.
Jim followed Preston's advice and after taking a calming breath, began to talk.
"The Institute…they wanted to know about a group of synths that ran out on them a few days ago. There are three? Four? Yeah that…four of them and they're hiding in some saferoom beneath Bunker Hill. They were hoping to reclaim them quickly but the Railroad showed up and set up shop around the settlement."
"The Railroad," Kayla scoffed at the mere mention of the shadowy organization, "They've gotten the Institute's boot shoved up their ass more times than any of us could possibly count. How will this be any different from before?"
"Because from what I heard, the people they sent in aren't some random operatives…Heavies, I think they were called. Those guys and gals are apparently the ones that get sent in to handle all sorts of dangerous shit and they've got like a dozen of them there already. Not only that, they're equipped with weapons that I don't think even the Gunners got in their arsenal."
The captain raised an eyebrow curiously at that statement. If that was true, then to her, it looked like the underground organization was putting all their chips on the table in what could possibly be one last gamble.
"Okay. The Railroad is protecting synths at Bunker Hill and the Institute wants them back," Preston paraphrased, "Where does that leave the Brotherhood?"
"The soldiers…well, they've been snooping around lately," he answered, "Many of their patrols pass by Bunker Hill, usually looking to buy a drink and stock up on supplies. I don't know how but they must have learned that we have a lot of business with the Railroad and the Institute…or at least they're suspicious of it. All I know is that they're selling the idea to Kessler that they can protect us, promising to keep the Institute out and clean up the place so we don't have to offer protection money to Raiders or anyone else."
"Awww, how very noble of them," Kayla's voice dripped with venomous sarcasm, "I would have half a mind to believe them if Lyons was running the show. But with Maxson, there's something he wants doubly in return, isn't there?"
"Though, I can imagine it would be a rather tempting offer," Preston chimed in, "Not many raiders out there are crazy or greedy enough to mess with the Brotherhood."
"Kessler thinks that perhaps with them around, we wouldn't have to worry too much about raiders or Gunners," Jim continued, "But some of us know that they want the Hill so they can establish a proper supply line between the airport and the Cambridge Police Station. Not to mention that if they get a run of Bunker Hill, they'll have a lot of influence over our caravan business."
"Why the Brotherhood?" Preston asked with disappointed curiosity defining his voice, "Hasn't Kessler noticed that the Minutemen have been reformed? We could guarantee the same protection without half of the demands they might ask of you. Some of my officers have been reaching out to them but she refuses any offers we make."
"Mayor Kessler just doesn't have any faith in the Minutemen," he answered, shaking his head despondently, "She's especially worried that the Raiders we pay money to would be more likely to retaliate against you guys instead of the tin cans from D.C. She thinks you'll fail them again like before."
"I suppose I can understand her point," Kayla shrugged in response, "But it's not exactly easy to answer a settlement's call for help when half the Minutemen at the time had divided itself into splinter groups, and the other half ended up following Clint into the Gunners or went full Raider."
Captain Sturnn noticed Preston had flinched upon hearing the name of the man who had betrayed the organization he admired. The name of the man who the current General had even idolized at one point when he first signed up with the organization of citizen soldiers. He couldn't begin to contemplate how naïve he had been all those years.
He sighed and focused on the issue at hand. There would come a time where he could deal with the traitor and the Quincy Gunners, but now was not that time.
"Anything else you want to share with us kid?" Preston asked the man in front of him. He had made his way back to the chair and still seemed guarded, but at least he was a little less nervous.
"The Railroad had intercepted some transmissions from the Brotherhood's communication frequencies. They shared with us that the attack is going to happen tomorrow before noon. Mostly as a warning to make sure that everyone else stay out of the crossfire."
"Apart from that…there's not much else I could tell ya, General," Jim concluded with a slight shake of his head, "I already shared everything I knew. I just…I just want to go back home already."
Preston walked over to the man and lightly patted him on the shoulder.
"I understand that you want to leave, but you might want to wait until the whole thing blows over," the General suggested, "In the meantime, I suppose you could stay here for the time being. Feel free to use one of the spare beds and drop by the cantina for a meal or a drink."
The man smiled wearily and thanked him as he got up from the chair.
"If…if it's any consolation…there are some of us at Bunker Hill who are tired of collecting money from the Institute only to hand them over to the raiders. Those same folk also want nothin' to do with the Brotherhood. Folks like Kay and the Savoldi's…Is there anything the Minutemen can do?"
Preston thought over the question, wondering what would be the appropriate response. Their duty was clear; to protect the people at a minute's notice, from any and all possible threats. Those that couldn't be talked down had to be put down.
But this was a rather complicated issue, one that Preston had admittedly hoped to avoid but as history had proven time and time again, there was no avoiding war. Even those who sought to handle things peacefully and diplomatically would have to take up arms against those who scoffed at the notion of diplomacy and continued their reckless or abhorrent ways because they felt like it was their given right, their destiny, to subdue and conquer those around them.
"I'm afraid the Minutemen are unable to involve themselves in the coming battle," Preston softly responded, and the man's hope would have deflated if it wasn't for spotting a slightly determined look in the eyes of the General, "…at least in name only."
A hefty promise, one he wasn't a hundred percent sure he could keep, but he had to try.
"I can assure you that by the time this is all over, Bunker Hill will not be at the mercy of neither the Institute nor the Brotherhood."
A promise, an assured statement, like he would guarantee that the Minutemen would be the ones coming out winning in the aftermath of the coming disaster. He might just be spouting whatever comes to mind but he had to take action. He had to come to terms that a wait-and-see approach would not work out in the long run, just like Kayla had been chastising him for a while now. He knew it, but he wanted to make sure that the Minutemen were ready for when the Institute and the Brotherhood pointed their guns away from the Railroad and each other and directed their line of fire to the growing Commonwealth militia.
Jim smiled weakly and thanked the General in appreciation for going a little easier on him and providing some hospitality before making his way out the room with a Minuteman that Kayla had called over to escort their new guest.
"I don't see why you had to go coddle the prisoner," Kayla reprimanded as she and the General left the room a minute later and climbed the stairs that led directly to his office.
"A bit of goodwill can go a long way, captain," he answered calmly, shrugging off the hint of disapproval from his officer, "It could ensure a more cooperative exchange in the near future. If we were to round up folks like him, demand they speak of their wrongdoings, and then punish them harshly anyways after cooperating, then people would be more inclined to never aid folks like us. Why would they help when they're going to get burned anyway?"
Kayla opened her mouth to speak but Preston raised a hand, pleading her to stay her tongue for a moment.
"I'm not naïve, Kayla. Well, not as naïve as I was when I first joined. I'm fully aware that there are people out there who would take advantage of the more lenient nature of some of us," he said, before looking Kayla directly in the eye, "But you need to remember that you're not part of the Enclave anymore. You're a Minuteman now. You've been a Minuteman for the past eight years. We do things differently here in the Commonwealth."
He saw her freeze for a moment upon mentioning the Enclave. He did not mean to bring up her past suddenly but he needed to grab the woman's attention and remind her that she was now part of a completely different organization, one that treaded carefully upon the use of ruthless measures, leaving such methods as an inescapable last resort.
"And I believe in the goals of the Minutemen," Kayla answered, the hardened look in her eyes wavering slightly, "It's for that reason that I don't want to take any chances. I don't want to see this organization fall apart like it did a year ago because we were soft or careless. Sometimes, I think we've gone from saving people from raiders and mutants to saving them from their own bad decisions." She sighed.
"Bunker Hill would be a testament to that."
Preston stared at her with an astonished look on his face. Well, he should have known better. The woman may have been rough around the edges but in the end she seemed to have her heart in the right place.
"Well, I shouldn't be surprised. Knowing you, you've already come up with a plan, haven't you, Captain?"
Kayla chuckled lightly as a small smile formed on her lips.
"You know me pretty well, General. Good on you," she complimented before pressing on towards the matter at hand, "Normally, I would share my plan with everyone present, but Ronnie is overseeing the construction of an artillery battery at Jamaica Plain and Aveline's location is currently unknown to me. Time is of the essence, so I guess it leaves only us to vote on it."
She sat down by Preston's desk and the General took a seat of his own as they began to plan out their possible involvement in the coming battle.
"The Brotherhood wants to take Bunker Hill, defeat any Institute machines that drop by, and eliminate the runaways hiding there, along with any Railroad agents who resist them. I'm rather inclined to believe that this 'conquest' doubles as a message to the rest of the Commonwealth," the captain went on to explain, "They will not tolerate anyone who opposes them, be they ghoul, synth, or human. And I'm not talking about just Raiders or Gunners. I'm pretty sure they would have no qualms of bullying or even gunning down humans who speak out or challenge their garbage dogma."
'Wow…she really hates the Brotherhood,' Preston thought to himself.
The map she had laid on the General's desk was still there and her eyes looked over the entire map until she fixed her gaze on one location in particular
"While I'm not overly fond of the reckless fools in the Railroad, need them to win if we are to deliver a message of our own to Elder Maxson and his toy soldiers. Remind them that obnoxiously shouting 'Ad Victoriam' in the midst of battle doesn't necessarily make them bulletproof."
She leaned forward on the desk, making sure she had the General's attention before pointing towards the place she intended to carry out her mission.
"For my plan to work, I'm going to need a few sharpshooters…and one that we know of who is familiar with the Brotherhood"
Preston quirked an eyebrow until the realization hit him like a ton of bricks. He let out a low whistle before chuckling to himself, finding humor in that he didn't know who was going to have it worse…the loudmouth merc or the pockets of the Minutemen.
"Oh dear lord…MacCready is going to demand our whole treasury for this."
…
In a quick flash, Aveline found herself back in the Institute. She took a deep breath and brushed herself off from the dirt and dust of the wasteland. She found herself to be too tired for anything after last night's talk with Desdemona, so instead of immediately returning to Shaun, she made a pit stop at Goodneighbor, drinking solemnly at the Third Rail before hitting the sack at Hotel Rexford.
She shook the thoughts away before she could think back on her talk with the Railroad leader. The blonde woman began to move, passing by a few scientists and Institute employees who greeted her with smiles and a 'Good day Mother/Miss Strauss', as she made her way to her room.
Aveline would like to believe she was a good judge of character, able to read people like a book thanks to the experience she obtained from her work as a lawyer. And because of that experience, she could tell that the number of people within the Institute, from the dozens perhaps hundreds that lived here, that were genuinely happy to have Shaun's or rather 'Father's' parent having free reign to wander around the place could be counted with both her hands and still have a finger or two left over.
These may be the brightest minds the Commonwealth had to offer, but they definitely needed to work on their body language. She could hear the whispers, wondering how is it that the Director had given leeway to this outsider, this dirty wastelander who wasn't even a scientist, into the Institute.
She could see it in their eyes, the mild leers, like they wanted to walk up to her and give her a piece of their mind. However, they refrained from doing so and kept up their polite façade, no doubt out of fear that they would incur Father's wrath.
She sighed. She did not care for their tantrums, boiling jealousy or bruised egos. There were much bigger issues to attend to.
"Good afternoon, ma'am," X6-88's monotone greeting drew her attention away from her thoughts as she approached her room.
"Good afternoon, X6," Aveline curtly returned the greeting. The synth was Father's handpicked courser to deal with sensitive matters coming from the Directorate and now he had been assigned as a bodyguard of sorts to the woman while she stayed within the Institute.
She couldn't help but wonder if Artemis would have been in X6's position as Father's chosen one if she never left the Institute. The mere thought of the Huntress addressing her in a monotone voice with a soulless look in her eyes was enough to make Aveline shudder.
"Are you well, ma'am?" X6 asked with a quirk of his brow.
"Yeah…yeah, I'm fine. I just need a small break," she responded.
The courser studied her, almost like he didn't fully believe the woman, but luckily, he did not press the issue.
"Very well then, ma'am," he said, "I was here to inform you that Father would like to speak with you as soon as you returned," Aveline slightly groaned at that.
"Did Shaun say anything about what he wanted to discuss?"
"I'm afraid not. But the matter seemed urgent, so your presence will be required soon."
'Of course. My presence is practically required everywhere these days.'
"Fine, fine. Let me at least make myself look a little more presentable," Aveline said as she entered the passcode to open up the door to her room.
"Understood. I will let Father know that he should expect you in the next twenty minutes, if that is acceptable?"
"Fair enough," she acknowledged, "Thank you, X6."
The courser gave her a nod as he left for Shaun's office. She slipped into her the room issued to her and breathed a tired sigh as the doors slid closed behind her. She had enough time for a quick shower, to change into something that wasn't her Atom Cat's outfit, and head for the Director's office.
The space provided for her was unlike many of the rooms she had come across so far in the wasteland. It was clean, sleek, and organized, with its own bathroom and working shower. It was almost enough to remind her…of the days before the vault, before the bombs. Almost…but not enough.
At least in that time period, she had a loving husband and an infant boy to care for, to lean onto as the world around them slowly went into the shitter.
Now, despite being under the same roof as her son, Aveline found herself sharing it with a community of scientists who used the surface world as their experimental playground. Her son, Shaun, who seemed to regard her more as a curiosity, an anomaly of the wasteland, instead of seeing her as his mother, the one who gave birth to him. The one who held so much hopes and dreams for him all that time ago and never got the chance to raise him because the Institute took that away from her.
The fucking Institute took everything from her and left her to rot in the vault and the wasteland that she found herself in.
She pushed those thoughts away for the moment. It would not be wise of her to meet Shaun with anger and sadness bubbling within her. She was still treading a fine line here, with scientists and synths alike wondering if she would eventually embrace their ideals, their goals to secure the future of mankind, well, their idea of mankind's future.
Aveline changed into the jet green jumpsuit she used to wear in her short tenure with the Brotherhood of Steel and left her room, stopping halfway across the walkway to lean over the railing as she looked around her surroundings. The clean space, the waterfall, the handful of green trees scattered about the area.
She would be lying if she said she wasn't a little tempted to stay with the Institute for a while longer. The view within here was nothing less than wonderful. And no doubt that the knowledge and technology stored here could benefit the surface world, allowing it to prosper in a way that hasn't been seen in over 200 years.
"Almost as if they're trying to show you a sympathetic side of themselves to win you over."
Desdemona's words broke her momentary trance and brought her back to reality.
She looked down onto the trees and the stream of clean water and figured that if the Institute wasn't so busy hiding away down here and pushing the ethical and even unethical boundaries of science, there could have been lush, green forests and rivers of clean water dotting the Commonwealth by now.
In her mind, Aveline believed that the Institute would be able to do things that actually benefitted humanity, while minimizing or avoiding altogether this 'means to an end' bullshit. But the wrong people were in charge. And even if they were replaced with better people, with less ruthless and more open-minded folks, the Institute's reputation with the Commonwealth had been damaged so far to the point that the people regarded them with hostility and would never trust them in the decades to come.
There was just too much blood on the hands of these scientists and the worst part of all was that half of them justified it as a necessary evil, while the other half truly had no idea of the consequences of some of their actions and experiments since they were purposefully kept in the dark by some of their other peers and superiors.
The kidnappings, the fear mongering, the FEV experiments, University Point, producing synths that had human-like qualities just to use them as tools and the list goes on and on.
'Does Desdemona really think I want to be a part of this kind of world?'
Her thoughts then wandered to the mission she completed a week ago with X6-88, when they took on the raiders of Libertalia.
"You would be bringing one of our own back home while bringing justice upon those who prey on innocents. Is that not what you seek? To make the Commonwealth safer?"
Aveline had easily spotted the thinly veiled sarcasm in Shaun's tone upon convincing her to take the mission to Libertalia but made nothing of it. She wanted to believe that the Institute would be capable of doing some good, especially to make up for many of their past actions.
But no. This wasn't a mission to eliminate a group of raiders that had been running roughshod over the local populace. That was secondary to them. This was all just to reclaim a rogue synth who had made himself leader of the raiders at Libertalia and what she deemed as a surprisingly petty attempt by her self-assured son to antagonize the Railroad for a faulty mindwipe.
If anything, this reinforced her belief that synths were not much different than humans if they were just as capable of fucking up and making bad decisions that actual humans seemed to be so fond of doing since the beginning of humankind itself.
She felt a bitter taste in her mouth for using that recall code on Gabriel instead of giving him a swift death, but if she was to temporarily win Shaun's trust in order to infiltrate his organization, she saw no other choice.
'No point in beating yourself up over that, Aveline. It had to be done. Pretty sure these pencil-necks would be a lot more wary of you if you went and deliberately fucked up the first job they gave you.'
She moved away from her spot and headed towards Shaun's office before she ended up being delayed again.
The man in question had been wrapping up a conversation with Dr. Volkert when she arrived.
"I believe we are done for now, Director. With your permission, I'll be taking my leave."
Shaun gave the doctor an appreciative nod as he turned around to make his way out of the Director's office.
"Good day, Miss Strauss," he greeted her.
"Good day to you as well, Dr. Volkert," she responded with a forced smile, ever the expert at masking her feelings at the right moment. She turned her attention to Shaun after the doctor left.
"He rarely leaves his office," she mentioned, "Is there something I should be concerned about?"
'Plenty of things you should be concerned about, Aveline.'
Shaun simply waved it off. "The issue with Dr. Volkert is nothing to worry about at the moment," he said, "But now that you're here, Mother, there is a situation that begs for your immediate attention."
He moved to sit near his desk as Aveline followed behind him.
"About two weeks ago, four of our workers had escaped the premises of the Institute towards the surface, no doubt seeking the assistance of the Railroad. We had been unable to figure out their whereabouts until we've received a tip from one of our informants from Bunker Hill that the escaped synths are hidden within that very settlement."
Aveline was not surprised with that revelation. In her time within the Institute, she had taken it upon herself to read and download any terminal entries that would have been deemed essential. In one of the terminals in the SRB, she had found a list of people out in the Commonwealth that were used by the Institute as informants.
Among some of the more notable figures were Marowski, the late chem dealer from Goodneighbor, Tommy Lonegan, Cait's former caretaker (She might pay him a visit at the Combat Zone again and hear his side of the story) and practically every caravan merchant in Bunker Hill.
Trashcan Carla, Lucas Miller, Cricket, and Doc Weathers. They were all on the Institute's payroll and she couldn't help but wonder what kind of information they might have passed on to the SRB in regards to the Minutemen settlements they had travelled to.
And here she thought that Old Man Stockton's paranoia was a bit over the top. Not to Tinker Tom's level, but almost getting there. It turns out he has every reason to be suspicious of most of the folks in that settlement.
On the bright side however, she might have exactly what she needed to gain leverage over the settlement of Bunker Hill and 'persuade' them to cooperate with the Minutemen. She was not a big fan of blackmail, but Aveline knew it could be quite effective at the right moment.
"I see," she responded with mild interest, "And what's stopping you from reclaiming them?"
"Apart from the fools in the Railroad, nothing. Courser designation X4-18 had been assessing the situation, monitoring their patrols and defenses. It seems they are expecting us and have made an attempt to fortify themselves within the settlement."
'Well, that's new,' Aveline thought. To her knowledge, the Railroad never made any noticeable movements of that scale. They always tried to maintain secrecy and operate within the shadows. This, however, sounds like they're digging in to fight off an army.
"Let me guess. You want me to sneak past them, find the synths and bring them back to the Institute right from under their noses?"
"Ironic, is it not?" a small but amused smile formed on Shaun's lips, "To use stealth against those who think they have mastered it." Aveline made no comment and kept her expression neutral, "X4-18 will accompany you. You will need him in order to bring back designations Z3-22, B2-57, Y9-15, and F6-33 back to where they belong."
"And I'm to do this now?" Aveline asked skeptically. While she wouldn't mind taking another job to distract her from the conflicting thoughts in her head, she did not want to take on one of this magnitude so soon. Especially if it was going to put her at odds with either the Railroad or the Institute itself.
'Dez had warned me of this. That I would have to choose soon. But I didn't expect it to be all in a day!'
"No," Shaun assured and she couldn't help but inwardly feel relieved, "Now would not be…the most opportune moment to carry out such a mission." He leaned forward, resting his elbows on his desk. And just like that, her relief was gone. She had picked up on that moment of hesitation from her son.
And what did he mean by 'opportune moment'? Wouldn't a stealth mission be better suited for the late hours of night rather than broad daylight?
She could not shake the feeling that Shaun was purposefully leaving out some additional details that should be known to her. No doubt this was another one of his 'tests' for his mother, to see how well she would handle the situation if other variables suddenly appeared into the thick of things…and if she would survive.
"You will rendezvous with X4-18 tomorrow morning. He will be awaiting your arrival a short distance away from Bunker Hill," he continued, "But for now, go ahead and rest, Mother…unless you were planning on returning to the surface?"
Aveline thought on it for a while before she made up her mind.
"I'll stay. I suppose I could use a night's worth of sleep," she conceded, "Though I'd rather not have anyone disturb me before I get to work in the morning."
"Very well then," he said before turning his chair around to face his terminal, "I know you will succeed in your mission. And do not worry. I'll have someone bring up food to your quarters in a few moments. No doubt you must be starving."
As if on cue with Shaun's words, Aveline's stomach growled and she couldn't hide the look of embarrassment that spread across her face. She heard her son chuckle lightly.
"I think I'll send someone now," he said as he began typing away on his keyboard, "You are free to go. Take this time to relax."
With that dismissal, Aveline nodded in acknowledgment and turned on her heel to leave his room, making her way back to her personal quarters.
She doubted she could relax at a time like this, with so many thoughts running through her head.
The task to recover more synths that had run away from this place, all because they wanted to understand the concept of humanity. No doubt they must be feeling extremely frightened while they hide in whatever part of Bunker Hill the Railroad had set up for them.
But that didn't matter to Shaun. He lost four of his 'workers' and he wants them back in the Institute, even if they were to be dragged across the Commonwealth back underground.
Aveline did not know what to make of him. There were times that he seemed slightly amicable, almost as if he was warming up to her only for him to go back into his role as Director and continuously drone on about the Institute's mission and how they're the last best hope for humanity.
She suddenly found herself chuckling.
'It's rather ironic,' she thought, 'Dez can't decide whether she trusts me or not and in turn, I can't decide whether I trust Shaun or not.'
She arrived at her room and just as promised, a plate with a freshly cooked meal had been set on the end table.
'Oh thank God it's not that nutrient paste crap.'
Her mouth watered as she stared at the Brahmin steak and chopped carrots, the steamy air around it beckoning her to come closer. She took her food and the Nuka Cherry that had been left for her as well and in a matter of minutes, completely devoured her meal.
As she lounged on her chair, picking her nails with a switchblade, she tried to remember the last time she actually had a proper meal like that.
She stopped and sadly sighed.
The night she had dinner with Desdemona when they were at Sanctuary. The Brahmin steak with the fried tatoes…Both of them just kicking their feet up and pretending for just a few hours that there was no war to be worried about. No responsibilities or urgent matters to take care of. Just…
She put away her switchblade and walked over to her bed, flopping carelessly onto it. She rolled onto her back, her eyes glued to the ceiling as she thought about her next move.
Aveline had made up her mind on one thing though. She was not going to play 'synth hunter' for the Institute. That's not who she was. But no doubt refusing such an order would put her at odds with her son, putting her role as a double agent in jeopardy. She needed to think how she would spare the synths hiding at Bunker Hill while Shaun and the Directorate remain none the wiser.
She didn't get to spend too much time thinking on it though, as the silence around her eventually lulled her into some much needed, yet slightly restless, sleep.
…
"Are you sure about this, Dez?" Artemis asked.
The two women held a meeting of their own in Desdemona's personal quarters. They both looked down at a map of the Bunker Hill settlement as the former Courser, with pen in hand, made a few markings on it. Ideal defensive positions, possible attack routes that Brotherhood troops on the ground would take, adequate areas to set up traps and anything else related.
"…No. I'm not," came the almost quiet response from Dez, "But we have no other option."
"So, we're going to protect the synths hidden by Old Man Stockton under the guise of protecting Bunker Hill?"
"No. I intend to protect the synths and keep my word to Stockton," she firmly responded, "We need to find a way to keep the Brotherhood out of Bunker Hill. We cannot allow them to gain another foothold here in the Commonwealth."
"Especially if it's one of the larger and independent settlements like the Hill," Artemis added as she put the pieces together. If the Brotherhood of Steel were to control Bunker Hill, they would be gaining one of the more organized and well established economies out here in the Commonwealth. The caps and supplies that were practically generated by the merchant hub would prove to be an additional boon to fuel their war effort here and beyond. And if that wasn't enough…
"Everyone in the Commonwealth depends on Bunker Hill's caravan trade. If those jackboots manage to gain control of it, then in time, all the other settlements and even Diamond City will have no choice but to deal with the Brotherhood," the ex-courser concluded.
"Precisely. And you can imagine how many of those settlements will be getting the short end of the stick if they get the final say in Bunker Hill's trading agreements," Desdemona said as she lit a cigarette that she held in between her fingers, the nicotine rush keeping her calm and focused as they continued to discuss the situation, "But, I'm more concerned about the Institute."
Artemis watched as Dez's expression turned almost unreadable, like even she wasn't sure of how to tackle that problem. But that's the thing about the Institute. You could never properly plan against them. With their ability to relay synths at will, they always had the element of surprise at their disposal. A harsh lesson that the Railroad had become all too familiar with.
"You think the Institute might show up?"
Artemis should have known better than to ask that. It wasn't a matter of 'if'. It was a matter of 'when.'
"We have four runaway synths hiding away in that settlement and if Old Man Stockton is right in his paranoia, then it's only a matter of time before one of those traders sells us out to the Institute. And while Railroad agents and Brotherhood soldiers are fighting each other? There's no better opportunity to show up out of nowhere to reclaim their 'property'," Dez said with a bitter edge to her voice.
"And what about the Minutemen? Shouldn't they be around to stop this shitstorm from brewing over one of the Commonwealth's most important settlements?" the synth asked incredulously, making wild gestures with her hand as she spoke.
"Although tensions are high between the Minutemen and the Brotherhood, neither of them seem enthusiastic enough to provoke the other into full-scale war…at least, not yet," Dez calmly explained before taking one last drag of her cigarette and flicking it towards the floor.
"Not to mention that Bunker Hill's leaders have already rejected the aid of the Minutemen plenty of times already. They've claimed they still don't have much faith in them and doubt that the militia would ever show up to resolve an emergency. I say that they're more likely afraid that the General's going to dictate how they should run their markets and stomp any dirty business deals they might have under the table."
"Yet, that will be the most likely scenario if the Maxson brat gets to lord over them," Artemis shook her head as she heaved an exasperated sigh, "First they shell out money to raiders for 'protection' and now this…I think I've seen better logic from super mutants."
'I honestly don't know how Stockton puts up with all that shit.'
The Huntress was aware that sometimes greed could overcome reason but this was just a whole new level of ridiculous.
"Enough about that," Desdemona's voice caught the attention of the synth woman, "How many have we gathered so far?"
"Well…I pulled a few heavies out of Mercer so they could join us at Bunker Hill," Artemis said and continued when she saw a slightly disapproving look from the boss, "The safehouse is deep within Minutemen territory and they have plenty of patrols keeping an eye on the area," she quickly explained.
"With that, we should have…about fifteen of our people to defend the settlement and the tunnels beneath where the packages are hiding," the agent estimated and from the look in her leader's eyes, there were still plenty of issues that needed addressing here.
"That won't be enough to hold the line against them," Desdemona grimly confirmed.
"I'm hoping that our equipment can make some difference though," the Huntress added, hoping to make the situation seem a little less dire, "I hate making Tom work overtime but he managed to supply us with some more of those armored coats like the one Glory uses, along with a couple of Railway Rifles. I also sent a shipment of Gauss Rifles, similar to the ones we use, that I bought off of K-L-E-O. Even offered me a discount when I told her I was planning to fight the Brotherhood with them."
Desdemona's lips twitched upwards for a moment and she let out a soft chuckle.
"God bless that gun obsessed, mildly psychotic robot…" she said with a brief feeling of amusement, "Good choice, Artemis. Those guns can tear through power armor as if it were made of paper. I suppose it will all come down to where we position our heavies."
The Alpha thought on it for a moment as she stared down the map of the settlement on her desk.
"Lock the front gate and keep some heavies there, perhaps four," she said pointing towards Bunker Hill's main gate on the map, "Keep at least one or two to watch every other corner of the settlement. The Brotherhood can come in from anywhere thanks to their vertibirds and so can the Institute with their relay. If I remember correctly, there are plenty of vantage points to choose from, especially within that obelisk."
"As for the rest, have them patrol the tunnels beneath the settlement. We can only hope that none of our enemies make it that far," Desdemona looked up to face Artemis, "Is there anything else we could add here?"
"I could also set up some traps along the roads," the Huntress added, circling a few roads that connected to the settlement, "The Brotherhood won't just limit themselves to dropping troops from the air. It's guaranteed that they'll have ground units as well."
With the finishing touches, Artemis grabbed the map and rolled it up to take it with her back to the settlement, "I'm afraid that's all the strategic planning we can do. Any other ideas that I could implement will probably come up during the fighting," she sighed, pinching the bridge of her nose, "I can't believe I'm saying this, but…I hope the Institute shows up, if only at the same time as the Brotherhood. With that, they'll hopefully catch each other's attention and kill each other off while we hang back behind the walls."
The Railroad Alpha was silent for a few moments as she pondered on everything that was at stake here. Four runaway synths that they have recently brought under their care, keeping one of the Commonwealth's major economic hubs independent, and stopping the momentum of not one but two other factions who were admittedly much stronger than the Railroad.
The burden was just sometimes too much to bear, even for someone as resilient as Desdemona.
"Artemis," she began, "I'm entrusting you with our people and the synths that have sought our protection. If things take a turn for the worse, I need you to gather the runaways and any surviving agents and get them out of there by any means necessary. If we lose too many people in the fighting…I don't need to tell you how disastrous that would be for us. And if we lose the synths, then our efforts would have been in vain."
Artemis perked up, giving Dez a mock salute, "Leave it to me, Alpha. It's high time we let others know that there's still plenty of fight left in us."
"In that case…" Desdemona tried to stifle a yawn as she sat down on one of the chairs by her table. She leaned over it and cast her eyes on a document the synth agent left for her, the details of the battle plan so far written all over it, "You're free to go. I expect a report tomorrow morning."
Artemis simply nodded and she turned to head for the door. She stopped for a moment, glancing sideways at her friend and leader.
"Dez…" the ginger woman lifted her head to look at her agent, "You should get some sleep. I know you've been a little out of sorts but you're not going to do us or yourself any favors if you look like a disgruntled mess."
Desdemona sighed before reaching up to rub her forehead.
"I'll sleep when I'm dead," was her curt response before turning her gaze down and focusing her attention back on the document. Artemis merely shook her head slightly in disapproval.
'Stubborn as always,' she thought to herself as she pushed open the door to leave.
As soon as she heard the door shut, Desdemona picked out another cigarette from the pack on her table. And despite having just finished one barely five minutes ago, she lit it and took a long drag from it.
She blew smoke through gritted teeth as she felt the chemicals of the aged cigarette burn through her throat and lungs. The sensation didn't faze her though.
Even as she suddenly had a coughing fit within seconds, she didn't think much of it, despite the grating roughness she seemed to feel inside her, as if sandpaper was being rubbed harshly against her lungs. She covered her mouth to muffle the noise so no one would barge in and ask her if she was all right.
And despite the taste of copper on her tongue, she stared blankly at the specks of blood dotting the gloved hand she had covered her mouth with, merely sighing as she disappointingly muttered 'not again' under her breath.
The whole weight of the world, her world and of those around her, had been on her shoulders for so long that she swore it would shorten her life, as if Railroad life expectancy wasn't short enough. Throw in her vices as well…
Desdemona took off the bloodied glove, tossing it aside to wash at a later time and afterwards, opened up a can of purified water to rinse her mouth and wash any trace of blood away. She sat back down by her table, leaning forward placing both elbows on the table as she studied the reports before her.
She was more focused on the fact that the Railroad's continued existence; along with any hope of perhaps mending her relationship with Charmer was hanging in the balance of the coming battle instead of her own, albeit slowly, failing health.
…
A/N: *Mr. Mackey voice* "Smoking is bad, mkay? It does bad stuff to your lungs. So don't be bad and take up smoking, mkay?"
Joking aside and in all seriousness, Desdemona is practically a human chimney with all the smoking she does. I talk to her, she's lighting a cigarette. I'm pretty sure she lights up like five cigarettes in just ten minutes that I'm screwing around HQ. I would be surprised if she doesn't have some sort of lung-related illness by now. So I figured I would make something out of it.
A combination of overbearing stress, unhealthy vices and a poor diet is enough to tragically cut someone's life short like it has happened to many people over time.
Is her condition anything serious? We'll just have to wait and see…
In the meantime, I thank all who have taken their time reading this story!