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The next few weeks were simultaneously the hardest and easiest days of her time in the wild, woolly wasteland she found herself in. The settlers squabbled in the cramped barracks they were forced to use, food became more scarce as a combination of the Deathclaw finally running dry and more mouths came together, which meant she had to organize hunting and foraging runs into the woods around them, ranging further out and fishing in the lake for food. Even the fish had mutated, their scales thick and jaws filled with teeth, some species even sporting little arms with two fingered hands that they used to flip smaller rocks in search of worms to eat, and to drag themselves along the beds of the rivers and lakes more quickly.
Creepy but, she'd been thoroughly assured, completely edible. And tasted pretty alright, as an aside, grilled the way Preston did it.
Food dealt with, they spent the next several weeks on their next project. A palisade, ringing the perimeter of the hilltop in high, point-tipped wooden walls. The same logs were used to shore up the sides of the hill, a vertical trench dug out for each log to be placed in all along the slope of the hill, reinforcing it and preventing washout. The incline leading up to the ramp went through the same treatment, the logs being cut to measure so that they rose to chest height overlooking the incline over the handful of feet that led to the wooden log-gate. Long planks had been laid out to the edges of the cleared pathway, shoring it against erosion and encroaching wildlife. Later, she'd have stone laid out for the walkway but for now, the fort was done to her liking.
Well, almost.
"Sturges." Nora called one morning a few days after the wall had been finished, sitting behind her desk in the Overseer's office. Now it was full of crates of supplies, but she used it anyway. A quiet place to work.
"Yeah?"The man paused at the door, grabbing its edge as he rounded it and tugging himself back around to look back at her.
She waved for him to come in and grunted, "Need to talk to you."
"Uh, sure." He nodded, walking back in and taking the seat across from him. Awkwardly scooting it closer, he laid his wrists on the table like a child getting a scolding might have. "What's up? I mean, you know… What's up, Ma'am?"
"The walls look good, around the Vault." She gave him a look to make it clear that it was a question. He grunted an affirmation and nodded, and she returned the gesture. After a second, she asked, "You read Preston's report on the sightlines out over Sanctuary and the surrounding hills. Right?"
"Yeah…?" She gave him a look, her brows raised pointedly, and the man sighed. Like he expected her to yell at him so early in the morning, the man explained more honestly, "No, Ma'am, I, uh, I was working on fixing some of the 'Claw Hammers. Their bindings came loose, so I had to make new bindings and retie them."
"You're not in trouble." Though she was somewhat frustrated that he hadn't read it, when she'd had it made for the express purpose of informing them while defenses were planned. Trying not to let the frustration show, she explained, "The trees around the base of the hill are too dense and too close for us to see the area around us very well. And now the walls themselves block the view entirely."
"We're blind." Sturges surmised wisely with a grimace and a sigh, running fingers through his hair. "Well, I can cut viewing holes, if you want."
"We could, yeah, but that would still be too limited in my opinion." And besides, she didn't really like the idea of boring holes in the wood. Whether or not termites had apparently gone extinct in the area since the Great War, weakening their structure seemed a bad idea. "But I want to be able to see everywhere around us, not through a few holes."
"Okay, well…" He sucked in a breath and clicked his tongue, thinking quickly. After a few long moments, he offered, "Well we could… Install some walkways. Maybe even a watchtower, looking out over Sanctuary. It would mean more logging, but we could do it pretty easily, with enough time."
"Get on it." She raised a hand before he could rise full and leave, and added, "Half-crew only, though."
"Ma'am?"
"It's nearing November already, Sturges." She pointed out quietly. And thank whatever gods existed up in the sky or down in hell the winter had been mild, and they had enough food to get through it. "Half-crew working on the wall upgrades, getting them more in order. The way we just talked about. The rest I want working with the farmers, preparing a place we can raise crops come spring. Or whenever we can start sowing crops, that is."
"I'll get on it, Ma'am." He nodded, turning at her own nod to leave.
With him gone she set to finishing the morning's work, reading the inventory reports from yesterday's foraging and hunting. And the reports on what scrap had been brought back by Stanley's people, of course, toted back in thick cloth packs two at a time. With them came reports on the area, as she'd intended. Nothing spectacular, of course, but people saw and talked about things that they saw. And any information was better than no information, even it was just tertiary comments from civilians.
"Spoken like you aren't a civilian too, Nora." She chided herself, closing the old leather journal Sturges had given her. One of seven, procured from somewhere for those in charge to pass reports. "Where he got them is anyone's guess…"
She left it in one of the Overseer's desk cubbies and stood, pressing a hand on her hips and groaning quietly as her back popped. Grabbing the holster off the back of her chair, she strapped it on and headed for the door, to make her rounds. As she always did, nowadays, too ignorant of anything they were doing to help much. Occasionally, she provided a good shoulder or hand to help them along with something simple, but that was rare. And more often than not, she ended up in the way anyways.
Such was life, really. People that didn't know any better could only really get in the way.
"Once things calm down," she promised herself for not the first time, walking through the empty halls towards the lift, "I can do some studying."
Sturges for basic understandings of how construction and scavenging worked, so she could get an understanding of it. Preston after, for military matters. If she was going to be leading a primarily military organization then she needed to understand the matters at hand, so she made as few mistakes as possible. Hell, she hadn't even considered the sightline problems until Preston brought it up in his own limited free time.
And the same went for scavenging and hunting. She wouldn't be able to tell a good hunting spot, or a good place to scavenge from, well… From anywhere else in the Commonwealth. Not to mention how to spot traps, what plants and animals made for good and bad foraging and hunting. She'd learn when there was time, though. Getting in the way now would be a terrible idea, to say the least. Her people needed their time to work, not bring her up to speed on two hundred years worth of missed tutoring sessions.
Inside their new encampment, the old, sabby shacks had been ripped down and removed. Along with the scraps of fence and scattered stars. In their place log buildings were being built against the back wall, opposite of Sanctuary. They were for the hunters, foragers and guards that stayed outside of the Vault. Scrap metal had been used to make chimneys for the huts, one of which puffed smoke as today's hunters prepared to head out to find more meat and forage to bring home. The one closest to the new gate, in the corner where the old security booth had been there, had its door propped open as workers came and went, collecting their tools or dropping them off as needed.
It was like a colonial fort of the kind the French and English had used centuries ago, the latter for these every lands. Albeit with Preston toting a Laser Musket rather than a gunpowder one, and a major lacking of red coats among the people she was watching. Still, it was like something tugged out of time. A hundred years from now, she wondered if, maybe, they'd be reading about Fort Sanctuary in a history book. Maybe there'd even be a biographical section about the brave little General Nora, in over her head but trying anyway.
'The Brave Little General That Could, a Biography'. Hell, she might write it herself, if all went well…
"Miss Nora!" An elderly voice called, the woman turning to find Mama Murphy at her 'post' as always. A small cookpot set up just around the corner from the gate, sheltered by a cloth tarp hooked overhead, hanging from four metal rods, two in the mud and two in the wood of the barrier. As she approached, the woman spooned her a small bowel of soup and smiled, "Finally escaped that dastardly paperwork, hmm?"
"You know, you'd think there'd be less of that since we can't make paper anymore." At least not yet. She'd order a run to the history museums in Boston at some point if she could, and try and find ways to make it. Sitting down, she took the bowl the woman offered and sipped at the thin broth. "How you doing, Mama Murphy?"
"Oh, these old bones are doing just fine." The woman smiled, easing into the chair Sturges had made for her. A simple wooden one, but fitted so she could sit easier. It had taken a day of his concentration, true, but no one had argued with him. Watching the clouds, the woman spoke, "When do you intend to leave, in search of your boy?"
"When I have a chance of finding him, I guess. And when, you know… It's safe for me to." She shrugged, "Until then, there's not any reason to go. Just monsters and raiders, and no leads I know of. Getting enslaved or killed won't help anyone."
"Is that why you're helping us, then? Safety of prestige and arms, so you will be safe?" The woman asked, turning a sharp gaze on her. She pursed her lips and tried to find an answer that wouldn't out her, but the woman chuckled and waved her fears of being found out off with a bony old hand. "You don't have to hide from me, girl. I know you well enough. And for the record I know you're keeping locked in that vault of a head of yours, I don't mind."
"Really?" Nora asked, looking around to make sure no one was listening in on them. "I'm building all this up just to help me find my son. Kind of selfish."
"True." The old woman nodded, "But selfish in a good way, I say. You just want to save your son. Who would hold that against you?"
"I imagine a lot of people, if they knew this was all just for me. Not for any… More moralistic reasons." Even if she built the Minutemen into a goliath that could protect the entire Commonwealth, and put an end to the Raider Tribes, she was sure people would hate her for using them. She didn't care, of course, but she knew it was a possibility. "Why don't you mind me using you all like this?"
"Those people would be dead if you weren't, no?" She didn't have an argument to that, and Mama Murphy knew it. Smiling yjom;y she moved on, "Besides, I know you'll do right by us. I saw it."
"Yeah…" Her 'visions', or whatever they were supposed to be called. She still wasn't too sure about them, even if Preston swore by them. "I just hope you're right."
"I'm always right, kid." She said with a toothy, wizened smile. The kind that spoke of resignation as well as amusement, with a touch of bitterness in the background. "Even when I don't wanna be, don't wanna see, I'm right. And I see."
"Alright then, tell me. What should we do next?" The woman raised an eyebrow and she waved around them with a hand. Mama Murphy's eyes followed her hand as it went, fixated oddly on it. "I'm building walkways and a watchtower to secure things, and setting up farms. What should we do after that?"
"Let's see then, hm?" She said, catching her hand as it came closer and pulling it into her lap, forcing Nora to scoot closer to sit comfortably. Closing her eyes, the woman hummed and went quiet. Then she shuddered, lips peeling back over her teeth in a snarl. "I sense… South, along the road. A bridge with a mouth like a monster, biting down on an ancient ship. Red light will see you safely by it. Past it, monsters and… Something odd. Something false, waiting for you."
"Something false…?" Like a lie, maybe? Or perhaps it was something worse, like a trap. There were just too many options, she needed to know what was false. And how. "What is false, Mama Murphy?"
"I don't know, but… I sense someone with a dark past will be your helper, to get to the jewel." Her eyes opened and Nora flinched in surprise at the pale pink irises staring at her. Then she blinked and they were gone, replaced by the kindly old eyes. "The jewel is almost certainly Diamond City, kid. But the rest…? I dunno."
"When do you think I should be leaving, then? The red light might be laser fire, so I will take Preston, but that leaves Sanctuary open..." Why she was even listening to these weird predictions and vague woo filled nonsense she had no idea. Deep down, she figured, she was still desperate for any clues. No matter how hard she clamped down and tried to keep herself under control, it was there.
"No, the red is…" Her brow furrowed and she groaned, pinching her nose like she was in pain. Forcing herself through something, the old woman shuddered again, as though cold. Even with a fire near, Nora could feel a chill overtake them. "I feel… Honor, and falsity, and metal. Within and without. An iron heart. A brother. An old code, and old name for all these things. An… Ally? I don't…"
"Mama Murphy?" The woman didn't answer, though, or react as she pulled her hand free. She just stared ahead at the fire, watching the wood burn. She laid a hand on her knee and shook it to get her attention. Blearily, she turned her gaze on the young general, and Nora murmured, "What do you see, Mama Murphy?"
"I can't, kid." She shook her head and rose, stiff and exhausted looking. Shoulders sloped and back bowed, like she'd aged another decade inside a minute. Shuffling off, she murmured, "Gonna take a nap… I'm so tired."
"Okay…" She watched the woman step onto the platform and start to descend, ignoring the calls of worry from the settler manning the button. For a minute she sat there, staring after the woman and sipping her broth. Thinking. Finally, she stood and sighed, shaking her head, "Damn weirdness and woo…"
Still, she made the very strong mental note to remember to take Preston with her when she headed towards Diamond City. And to watch out for 'green monsters' of whatever kind she was supposed to run into. They certainly didn't sound fun, but then,, what did in this woolly world she was in now?
'Sleeping.' She thought to herself, rounding the corner and headed down to look for Preston. 'Sleeping in sounded fun.'
As usual, finding Preston was a simple matter of going to Sanctuary's rickety bridge and sitting down beside the Sentry Bot they left parked there when it didn't need its batteries charged. Waiting there, eventually his rounds would bring him to her, sooner or later. In this case, to her relief, it turned out to be sooner rather than later. Sitting on the stone, she held up a hand in a wave as he approached, overcast sky letting the red of his musket cast his face in a typical eerie red.
Something that was the norm by now, even if it did always make him look somewhat evil.
"General, Ma'am. G'morning." He grunted, making a quick salute, military style with the butt of his rifle stamping once, gently, against the ground beside him. She nodded and he relaxed, shouldering his weapon and stepping past her to look out past the river and watch the opposite bank. "Sturges said you were ordering walkways and watchtowers?"
"To fix the sightline problem you mentioned." She said in answer, resting a hand on her pistol's holster and joining him in watching the shore. Something she did more for comfort, than anything. No chance she could hit anything with it from so far away. "I don't want anything able to sneak up on us, Preston."
"I know, Ma'am." He nodded, "Neither do I."
"Good." Then he approved of her actions there, at least. A bit of anxiety existed surrounding what he did and didn't approve of, though she'd never tell him about it. "I've ordered a half-crew assignment on the wall improvements, though."
"The rest?"
"Securing us food." She answered simply, "Setting up farms, mainly, however the farmers want it done. Their purview, that. I won't dream of stepping in."
"Good." Preston grunted, adding a wry shake of his head and a chuckle for effect. "Farmers tend to get a bit antsy about people coming in to tell them how to do their jobs."
"I bet, yeah." She could remember the farmer-riots when their plots had been appropriated and nationalised to help feed the troops fighting the communists. Then came the conscription riots, rationing riots… Hell, she'd almost participated in the protests the intellectual community held when the government started 'appropriating' and 'drafting' their research and themselves. Sighing she assured them both, "I don't intend to try and play the tyrant, as long as they don't cause any problems."
"Problems, Ma'am?"
"Shortages. Inefficiencies." He nodded at her explanation and she explained further, "I do intend to roll out a bit of Old World knowledge, though. If it's needed. Mind being the mouthpiece?"
"Because…?"
"Because I'm bad with people who think I'm stepping on their toes." With it came aggravation and she wasn't good at assuaging aggravation. Nate always said she lacked the empathy for it, though he never phrased it as an insult.
'Merely a point of fact, honey,' He'd always said. And if nothing else, she respected points of fact. And besides, he'd kissed her after, showing he didn't care-
She clamped down on the memory as she so often had to, when she let her mind drift. Beside her, Preston must have noticed the pursed lips and grimace, because he bumped an arm against her own. She flinched and he smiled disarmingly, asking gently, "Need to talk about it, General?"
"No." Yes, but not right now. If she did then the carefully controlled emotions would break through their cage and cause problems. Problems better dealt with when there were no threats against them, if that ever came. Seeking the easy change of topic, she asked, "When do you think we should start conducting our own heavy scavenging runs with the robot?"
"When do you want to?"
"When there's not any risk at all for it, and I can leave Shaun with Mama Murphy." She answered sarcastically, sighing as she noted her foul mood. Reigning it in, she murmured, "Sorry, Preston."
"You're fine, General." He assured her, the duo watching a couple Settlers wade into the water to start digging up the scrap hunks embedded in the soil there. To what end, neither could be sure, but maybe they just wanted the water cleared of trash. Regardless, the man started talking, "Winter is coming on fast and hard, Ma'am. It's warm enough now that our overcoats can handle it, and the Vault'll make good shelter from the weather anyway."
"Right." She nodded, "Sensing a but in there, somewhere…"
"But," he chuckled, shaking his head, "we can't get our food stores high enough to last. We're grazing, mostly, on what little we can find. But the Rad-Stags will be headed north,, into the mountains, for winter soon. And the foraging plants will start hibernating, too. All that'll be left is the predators that don't follow the deer, aiming to steal cattle or people from settlements."
"I'm guessing hunting those will not be an option?"
"Actually, it is, if we can get some beast hunters in to help us." He held his Musket up for her and shook his head, though, adding, "But this won't be that useful against a lot. Yao Guai are resistant to energy weapons. Mirelurks too. Super Mutants not so much and while eating those isn't a good idea, their hounds make good food, and settlements might give us food for dealing with them."
"Yeah?"
"I mean, Muties would take it anyway." He shrugged, "Difference is they'd take people, too."
"Mhm." It wasn't a terrible idea, really. Or at least, it wasn't one to just dismiss out of hand, without considering. For now, though, sensing that he wanted to lead the conversation somewhere, she asked, "I'm assuming you already had an idea on what to do about it, though? Since you came to me and mentioned it."
"Well, yeah, Ma'am. I do have an idea, and a… Bit of reason for it besides. A secondary, personal reason, I mean." He gave her a look asking if she still wanted to hear it and she nodded, earning a shaky sigh. Clearly, the man was filled with some emotion over the matter, even if she herself couldn't quite read it. "Back when we ran from Quincy, we came up by and through parts of Lexington. Near enough to a Super Duper Mart I saw and, low on supplies as we were…"
"You thought you'd go scavenging."
"I sent a team, Ma'am." He gestured with his rifle at a couple of the Settlers as an example and added in a grunt, "I had civvies with me. Couldn't take 'em into the old town safely. Ghouls were infesting the area."
"That sounds bad…"
"Good with the bad, really." Preston nodded, explaining quietly while several settlers hauled a huge, partially rusted hunk of steel out of the river. Fish, disturbed by the movement and wash of dirt the action had kicked up, scurried away. "Ghoul infestation like that means that the area wouldn't have been scrapped or scavved out yet. Raider corpses we could see meant the Assembly were fighting them, tough, so they were probably further inside the old city. Closer to Corvega and the Assembly City."
"And you were on the outside, opposite side of Lexington from where you figured they would be." He nodded and she hummed, a bit of a mental layout starting to come to mind.
"Sent a handful of fighters into the outskirts, to loot the Mart." He finished, shaking his head and sighing tiriedly in the way Nate used to when he talked about missions that went wrong. "They never came back, Ma'am. Don't know why, but after so long, don't imagine any good reasons. Always a chance they're trapped or something, but…"
"Vain hope is as good a killer as any blade orpoison." She murmured understandingly. He gave her a look and she shrugged, smiling thinly, "Paraphrasing a saying by someone else in history."
"Yeah... " He shook his head at something she didn't understand and moved on. "My men shoulda thinned the proverbial herd whether they are alive or not, though. And between their rifles and the supplies there…"
She sighed, knowing what he was suggesting, and nodded. "Team layout?"
"You, me, and a stop to get Miss Niu." She gave him a look and he quickly explained, "If there's an old robot there, broken or nah, then she might be able to salvage it. Even just a Protectron would be… Just damn dandy to have around. We could assign it to the Scrap Yard, so both places have a semi-armored defense."
"Not a bad plan." Spare rifles would be useful for forming a more gun-oriented militia, at least. And they had the Vault to supply their 'cells. "How many lasers? And if you had to guess, how much food?"
"Five or six rifles, if I remember right." She whistled and he nodded knowingly, more than aware how well equipped that would make them. "I'll teach you how to use one, too. Save on ammo for your ten mil'." She nodded and he turned to look at the parked Vertibird, complete with the hanging cloth Alexa and Sturges had set up. Bobbing his head to and fro, he hummed, "Might, might, be able to fill up the 'Bird there. Drinks with calories, food, maybe some old clothes or usable scrap."
"Alright." She nodded, rolling her shoulders to mentally prepare to head back out there for the first time. At least they didn't have to kill people this time… Small mercies. "Get two days of food and water and a sleeping kit. I'll go and find Sturges, and have him hook the Vertibird up, and check the fuel."
"Ma'am." He nodded, snapping another salute as he had before and turning to leave.
Now she just had to find Sturges, and get her chariot loaded and ready to head out. Eyeing the bridge's old, semi-ruined struts she grumbled and turned. Adding repairs to that to the list of things she wanted worked on sooner rather than later. Wood trim, she was sure, would be enough to at least start on replacing the broken planks. Unless she wanted to just build a new bridge...
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Misdirection :
Glad you're enjoying it!
Dark paladin 89 :
In truth, the canon Minutemen weren't bad. They simply found themselves mired in politics and factionalism. Minus the factionalised nature, and with some better cultural entrenchment in settlements they protected, and support from them, they'd have been fine. Politics plus a lack of settlement ingratiation and a jagoff Mirelurk Queen doomed them, in my eyes.
I'm simply improving on those holes. Or rather, Nora is. The one rambling, though, is definitely me. XD
Nick :
Yeah, the Gunners have this veneer of threat to them that doesn't feel borne out beyond their bases and the background information.