Chapter Thirty-Five

Arthur hopped off the Vertibird on a strip of land outside the Castle. The area had changed drastically since he had last viewed it, almost two months prior. Any surrounding buildings were gone, destroyed by artillery and concentrated gunfire. The ground was churned and scorched black, with not a sign of green anywhere. The walls of the fort were riddled with laser burns, but the Minutemen flag flew proudly. Proctor Ingram followed behind him, as did Paladin Lucia, newly promoted after spending several months managing logistics, and discovering who it was that was stealing resources. The paladin whistled lowly.

"Those burns run deep. Thousands of rounds must've been fired at the wall. Were they trying to bring it down?" She mused to Ingram, who was also staring at the fort in awe.

"How many men held this? A hundred? Two hundred?" Ingram asked aloud, more to herself than anyone else.

"Thirty-six men held the fort, proctor." Colonel Thiel was standing by the gate, which had clearly been replaced recently. His arm was in a sling, nestled against his chest, but he looked well. His beard, which Arthur had come to see as a part of the man, was completely gone, showcasing a scar on his lip that ran down to the apex of his chin.

"Thirty-six? How did you do it?" Lucia asked, and Arthur was glad she did, because if she hadn't, he might have.

"I didn't. I was wounded at the beginning of the siege. Captain Danse took command of the situation, and held off the synth horde." Thiel said it casually, but his eyes were drilling right into Arthur's, and he knew he was waiting for a reaction.

An awkward silence over took the group, so Arthur was incredibly grateful when General Garvey strolled out of the gate, flanked by a man and a woman. The man wore the silver bars of a captain, while the woman wore the oak leaf of a major. Arthur recognized the man. He was the captain who had run the Institute holotape over to the airport, before vanishing just as quickly.

"Elder Maxson. I'm glad you're here." General Garvey said. He made a quick gesture with his hand and the captain passed a fairly large stack of paper to him. Garvey handed right off to Arthur, who was immensely confused as to what it was. "It's the names of everyone who died while you sat in your little blimp."

Arthur looked at the book in his hands and then back at Garvey.

"We had the Castle under siege, we had Concord occupied, and most of our settlements fought off raids by synths over three days. You, however, had a grand total of four attacks, all of which were repulsed fairly easily. And while innocent men and women were dying, fighting off the organization that you claimed you came here to destroy, you hid in your bases, and let it happen. We're not here to have any sort of discussion, elder. This is a reprimand, not from me, not from Nate, but from the people you let die because you were too busy politicking." Garvey's voice was ice cold, similar to the way Thiel could be at times, and Arthur found himself feeling the twenty-one years he was. He hadn't felt like a child in many years. "You can leave now, elder. I've said all I wanted to."

With that, Garvey turned and walked away, followed by the two that had accompanied him. Thiel remained behind. He looked sadly at Arthur.

"I lost six men defending this place. We had been drive off the walls, and were pulling back to the medical wing to make a final stand. We needed time to barricade, and six men volunteered to stay outside. One of the men who died was a man I personally recruited. Michael Tanner. He was a sniper, and a damn good one too. The others came from each of the squads stationed here." Thiel said, looking out towards the water. "You're a good kid, you really are, but you're still young, and even with as much as you've seen, and as much as you've done, you're never really ready to lead men in a war. Especially when your field officers dislike us. I know it was Rhys who convinced you to lock down your troops. He's never liked me, and he used his rank to make sure no aid could come to us."

"That book has the names and ages of everyone who died. A quarter of them were children. Show that to Rhys when you're done. I doubt it'll make him feel much, but he should know that he helped kill them. As should you. That list doesn't contain the Minutemen who died protecting those settlements. Their names will be placed here, the original home of my men."

Then, like Garvey, Thiel turned and walked away, and the gate closed behind him. Arthur turned and marched towards his Vertibird, and mounted it. Gallows and Kodiak had stayed onboard, per his orders, but they were both clearly curious at what had happened. He didn't say anything as he boarded the Prydwen, and instead went straight to his room, ignoring everyone else. He sat down at his desk, and placed the file on it, opening it up.

Rachel Miller, age 28

Michael Miller, age 27

Andrew Locke, age 14,

Eli Locke, age 12

Robert Locke, age 36

It went on, and on like that, and Thiel hadn't been lying when he said a quarter of them were children. It took him an hour, but he read through each name, before counting out the list. Four-hundred and thirty-two dead, because, as both of them said, he had played at politics. It was easy to forget that the Minutemen existed to protect the people, because they were so efficient at it. Arthur hadn't dealt with this level of competency in a long time.

He stared at the list once he was finished, pondering his next course of action. He was interrupted by Kells reaching out to him through the comm system.

"Elder, Paladin Rhys has returned from his assignment. He's waiting for you to debrief him. He failed." Kells was brief and frank as usual.

Arthur sighed, and rose from his desk, left his room, and made his way to the observation deck. He needed to have words with Rhys about his feeling about the Minutemen. It was going to be a long day.

MMXVII

AN:

WHOO! It's two-thirty in the morning, and boy am I pumped to have finished this chapter. This one was a shorty but a goody, explaining the relationship between the Minutemen and the Brotherhood, which has gone from 'yeah okay we could work together' to 'you useless walnuts deserve no mercy' Preston 'Roast-Master' Garvey and Nathaniel 'Ice Cold' Thiel went ten rounds with Arthur 'Frat-Boy' Maxson and came out with a TKO. As always, leave a review, and tell me what you think. Also, to 'N' who told me that I was retelling the fallout story. I'm very impressed you noticed that. Literally no one figured out my secret, how were you able to?

Cheers, SovietBabushka