"Evening General!" A young Minuteman saluted, a shy smile on his face. Jennifer smiled back and offered a quick salute without missing a step. While she rarely stepped out of the Castle without a suit of power armor or her uniform, within the safety of the Minuteman HQ she often caught soldiers unawares while dressed in a casual shirt or her vault suit. She enjoyed these fleeting moments of anonymity, when a new recruit might greet her casually or even comment on her appearance.
"How are things around here?" Jennifer asked, offering him a helpfully reassuring smile. The soldier swallowed nervously, saluted a second time unnecessarily, then finally began to speak.
"T-Things are great, General." He stuttered. Jennifer waited patiently as he composed himself. She couldn't care less about the situation at the Castle; that was what her council was for. No, her reasons were rather selfish. One of the perks of being the General of the Minutemen was that her soldiers were obliged to speak to her. She could initiate and terminate conversations whenever she wanted, with no serious repercussions. There was no need for restless nights, wondering if she'd ruined a friendship or another person she trusted would betray her before dawn. The brief moments of control she felt during these meetings were what she built her confidence on.
"Carry on then, Private." She said with a nod, as the flustered man offered her a hasty salute.
As the man was quickly swarmed by curious friends, Jennifer headed straight to her office. Her Commanders were a lively bunch, and many of them hated the frequent meetings she insisted on. In fact, some would probably feel more comfortable facing a pack of feral ghouls than face their lawyer-in-chief in the conference room.
Surely enough, nobody seemed particularly excited to be present when she stepped through the doors. A young woman jumped to her feet as Jennifer entered, snapping to attention and offering her a crisp salute.
Cassie Shaw. She'd been just a year shy of eighteen when her mother had first brought her to the Castle. Ronnie Shaw had been an invaluable asset for nearly a year, before her untimely death at the hands of a Deathclaw.
Her fiery daughter had enlisted the day she turned eighteen, eager to follow in her mother's footsteps. While most Minutemen admired her passion, none of the other Commanders were keen on letting her follow her mother's footsteps too closely. So, she'd been assigned to the council and given the empty title of 'Castle Guardian', a fancy way of saying that she supervised the soldiers as they swept the halls of Fort Independence.
Despite her open dissatisfaction with her current position, she was usually one of the most active members of the Council, mostly because it was the most exciting thing on her schedule. The same couldn't be said for any of the other Commanders, who lounged lazily in their swivel chairs. Each of them was a legend of the Wasteland in their own right, and as such they made their distaste for the meeting as clear as possible.
Still, all of them offered their General polite nods as she took her position at the head of the table. One man hastily put out his cigar before she could complain. He was Eduardo Valencia, the man in charge of Minuteman recruitment and training throughout the Commonwealth. And it was he, out of all the others, that was in the hottest water right now.
"I'm surprised you managed to catch them all." Jennifer said, as Cassie plopped back into her chair. Charles Dyson offered her a fetching smile.
"We do have good news to celebrate, after all." He replied. Valencia took the ensuing moment of silence as his chance to interject.
"Madame General, I was hoping to get a chance to explain-" His plea was cut off by Jennifer's raised hand.
"You've done a good job so far, Valencia. I've never had reason to doubt you." Jennifer sighed rather dramatically. "This unfortunate training expedition you planned, however, was a mistake, plain and simple. Dyson's intel made it clear that there were atleast three packs of ferals in that section of Boston." Valencia withered under her gaze.
"Still, I can't put the blame entirely on you. I had the same intel that you did, and I failed to realize that we were going to be swarmed." Jennifer offered judiciously. "Twelve good men and women lost their lives that day. If I'd taken your advice and let Preston command the forces alone, there would have been no survivors." Valencia swallowed hard while nodding in agreement, but Jennifer's eyes were already looking at the empty seat beside her.
A strange silence filled the room, the kind of silence that grows more suffocating with every passing second; and yet no one was brave enough break it. Everyone in the room knew who was supposed to occupy-or rather, hover near- that seat, and part of why Valencia was still sweating buckets was because of that empty chair.
"My scouts have been scouring the Commonwealth day and night, General." Dyson said, finally breaking the silence. "If Curie is out there, we'll find her."
Jennifer's heart rattled in her chest as she struggled to keep her emotions in check. She had tried to tell herself that it wasn't her fault that Curie had ended up missing. She'd done everything humanly possible to keep her out of harm's way. But part of her knew that no excuse would pardon her mistake. All it took was one frantic moment on the battlefield for her to lose sight of someone she valued more than herself.
"I'm glad to hear it." Jennifer replied, in a calm, even tone. Her courtroom disposition might have fooled her Commanders if they didn't already know how much she cared for Curie. Everyone knew the lengths to which she'd go for their Chief Medical Officer.
And nothing made that clearer than the other empty seat at the table, which was now the focus of attention in the room. Dyson, now adjusting into his usual courtroom role of moderator, was the first to speak.
"Ma'am, some of the men have grown concerned that you chose to send Commander MacCready off to look for Curie." Dyson said diplomatically. "Considering the results of the last training, we felt that the Commander's expertise could be invaluable in training new recruits."
"If we do conduct training now, it has to be within the Castle." Cassie's eager voice chimed in. "We should encourage safer training drills to prevent accidents like this from happening again."
Eyes rolled everywhere, although Jennifer and Dyson were diplomatic enough to remain neutral. Of course, Cassie's intentions were clear as day. While training was conducted inside the Castle, the recruits, for once, would be under Cassie's jurisdiction. With Valencia on the defensive and MacCready gone, she would theoretically be in charge of training the troops. Most of the Generals respected Cassie's mother; had she been the one making the proposal, no one would have objected. But leaving the training of green soldiers to an even greener Commander was foolish, no matter whose daughter she was.
"Why not just come out and say it?" another man grunted, his eyes never rising from the table. Of all the men and women present, he was by far the most oddly dressed, even by Commonwealth standards. His cowboy hat and thick beard made him look like something straight out of an old Western pre-war flick. But there was nothing old-fashioned about the sniper rifle that leaned on his chair.
"It was stupid to send MacCready out, without having someone in mind to take his place."
Jennifer nodded in agreement, despite the man's harsh words. A lawyer had to choose her battles, and this wasn't the time to get into an argument. Instead, she had a better solution in mind.
"You're absolutely right, Patrick." She said with a small smile. "Which is why you'll be supervising the training."
Cassie slumped in her chair and Dyson forced a smile, but the rest of the Commanders watched with open mouths, unsure if they'd heard correctly.
But no one was more surprised than Patrick Buchanan.
"General, with all due respect, I work alone." He shifted uncomfortably, searching for the right words to express his disbelief. "I can't be expected to take those greenhorns out into the Commonwealth." He said, his voice plying for support. And there were nods and murmurs all around; most of the council seemed to agree except for Cassie.
"I agree with you again, Patrick!" Jennifer said, with an odd cheerfulness. "Which is why you'll be training them here, in the Castle."
Even Dyson's smile faltered and disappeared at that addition, as groans and gasps echoed across the council. Cassie was the only one smiling now.
"General, you know how important my job is." Patrick began.
"I know, which is why I want you to pass on your knowledge to others." Jennifer said, her voice set in steel.
"What if you were to die tomorrow? What if a radroach jumps you while you're taking a dump, or a ghoul manages to snack on your arm while you're snacking on some steak? Or what if you just dropped dead one day of a heart attack? What would happen to all those years of experience?" Jennifer demanded.
"General, I've been out in the Wastes for nearly twenty years." Patrick said, his voice equally steely. "I've hunted every monster there is out there, and when I was done with that, I went to the Glowing Sea to find and kill some more." Even Cassie watched with increasing awe as Patrick swelled with pride.
"It was my intel that set up the hunt for Swan, it was my strategy that brought the beast down. I thi-"
"And it was me who took the beast down." Jennifer finished, anger starting to edge into her voice. "Listen, Patrick. We'll all die one day. You've spent most of your life wandering the wastes, killing monsters. When I got you to join the Minutemen, I told you there would be sacrifices."
"I thou-" Patrick began, only to be interrupted again.
"You thought that meant giving up your life for the cause, or going out on dangerous missions by yourself, didn't you? And yes, that's part of it. But not everything is about personal glory, and it's about time you set aside your massive ego and do something for us." Jennifer vented.
To most of the Commanders watching, her outburst seemed to be fueled by righteous anger. The General had to make difficult choices, after all; she'd even sacrificed her love to save the rest of the recruits. And as much as Patrick boasted about his dozens of kills, had he ever engaged in the busywork that came with being a Commander? Minds began to shift and whispers began to emerge, as Dyson looked on with measured patience. The General was a wily woman, he had to give her that. Cowing Patrick Buchanan into silence was one thing, but to get the Council to go along with it? He'd have to congratulate her later.
"General, even if I do train these men, there isn't much I could do at the Castle." The man was an expert tracker and legendary huntsman, but he was a poor negotiator. His eyes automatically flicked in Cassie's direction, a minor tic that Jennifer picked up on instantly.
Patrick might swallow his pride for her, but the thought of operating under Cassie's command worried him. Within the Castle, her word was second only to the General's.
"Cassie, considering your interest in entering the field, I've made a decision regarding your position on the Council. Effective immediately, you are no longer 'Castle Guardian'." Jennifer stated.
Cassie's slammed the table with her fist, with far more force than many expected from a girl so small. Her gray eyes burned with indignant fury at the thought of being removed from her position when she'd finally been given the chance to shoulder real responsibility.
"General I-" she cried, her voice significantly higher than normal. She wasn't quite as adept as the others at keeping her thoughts and feelings secret.
"Instead, I would like to induct you into the Seven." Jennifer finished.
A lot of curveballs had been thrown at this Council meeting, but none of them hit as hard as this one. Even Dyson, a man who prided himself on his foresight and intuition, was caught by surprise. Cassie stared, open-mouthed at the General, and she wasn't the only one.
The Seven were the General's personal squad of bodyguards. Although they didn't necessarily accompany the General at all times, it was their duty to protect her at all costs.
"MacCready is off on his assignment and is therefore unavailable to guard me. In his stead, I would name you to the guard, as a temporary measure. If you do a good job, a permanent position may be on the table."
Unlike the previous decisions, while this one was a surprise, it wasn't necessarily controversial. The Seven, as famous as they were, often found themselves doing mundane tasks and routine patrols. It was rare that they ever needed to truly protect the General; she did a great job of that herself. Considering that each one was granted a suit of power armor; they were rarely in any serious danger. Therefore, it was one of the safest positions for any Minuteman and would be the perfect way to give Cassie what she wanted, without compromising her safety.
Cassie, however, was not aware of all this. And even if she was, her wide eyed look of gratitude made it clear that she considered it a massive promotion.
"I accept, General." She said solemnly, trying hard to control her excitement. "I swear to protect your life with my own, to shield your body with mine, and to act in the best interests of the Minutemen above all else." She said the words of the oath that she'd memorized long ago, her words slurring together in her excitement.
Jennifer nodded and smiled, but a bitter sadness enveloped her heart at the sight of the gray-eyed woman high-fiving Dyson. Her unrestrained enthusiasm, her eagerness to explore the Commonwealth. Those gray eyes…
Jennifer ignored the doubts in her mind for the time-being. Her hands were already full dealing with her duties as General. The last thing she needed was a new rumor about her spreading through the ranks. As most of the Commanders shared in Cassie's joy, one cool pair of eyes met hers. Dyson winked at her. He was not fooled.
"Alright, on to the next order of business." Jennifer interjected, interrupting the celebrations. "I'd like to know what our progress is regarding synths."
This was Dyson's area of expertise, and he spoke up immediately.
"It's only a matter of time, General. There's no love out there for robots posing as humans."
"I've heard rumors about the Railroad, working out there to convince people that synths are human." Valencia offered, eager to regain his General's trust.
"Exactly. 'Follow the Freedom trail.' Is what everyone is saying." Cassie added. "But as far as I can tell, nobody knows what that means."
"Somebody must know." Jennifer muttered, looking at Dyson. For once, the man looked just as lost as she was.
"From what I gathered, the 'Freedom Trail' is some sort of ancient walkway. Starts near the Common and ends near the Old State House." Dyson shrugged. "We've searched the entire place a few times but couldn't find a trace."
"Besides, it's a bad location for a hideout." Patrick pointed out. "It's a supermutant nesting ground."
"None of that matters, because the Freedom trail doesn't end at the State House." Jennifer interjected. "Curie-"
Awkward, suffocating silence prevailed once again. Jennifer's face fell, and her downcast eyes dropped to the table.
"If I remember correctly, the final stop was somewhere near a church." She muttered, almost to herself.
"General, you'll need to be more specific." Dyson said, a pen and paper having materialized in his hands.
"I don't remember." Jennifer mumbled, her eyes still averted. The tension in the room was palpable.
"General, perhaps we could call this meeting right here? I'd really appreciate it if you could let me know my duties as your bodyguard." Cassie's sweet, eager voice drew Jennifer out of her dark thoughts. She forced a half-smile.
"That sounds good." She turned to Dyson. "Keep searching for the Railroad, and make sure the synth warnings are updated as often as possible." Dyson nodded, and the rest of the commanders took that as their signal to leave.