Hello everyone, hope you are doing well.

To answer Blaze1992 review in last chapter.

I initially planned to put the Aqua Cura quest while Damian was at the Washington Monument. I had a nice way of introducing the quest and stuff, but then I realized that I would have to ditch the Stealing Independence quest, as I did not found any other way to introduce it (other than stumbling on it by accident). I also did not want the Rangers to be present, so I took the easy way out and basically killed the ghouls and rejected the Aqua Cura quest. I also realized the place where the ghouls store their water and add the secret ingredient in it, it litteraly right next to the BoS outpost, and knowing the BoS hatred for the ghouls, I can't picture them looking away while a group of ghouls walk next to them. Sure the ghuol might have buy the water, sure they can find a different path from their building to the musuem. The latter is extremely dangerous and given the general ghoulophobia environment in FO3, I don't really see anyone selling, nor redistributing freely, water to ghouls. yes you can make easy money, but why would you give something valuable to something you think should not exist?

As for Damian reaction about the whole scene, I guess that he saw so much death that he got used to it.

Same for the "cold blood" murder of Enclave personnel and stuff. Sure it's not a very decent behavior and no hero would do that, but for me, Damian is not a hero. I never pictured him like that. For me he is just and ordinary guy put in extraordinary situations. He states several times that he is not a hero, that he helps people because he wants to help them and that he is not looking for fame. He hates the Enclave, as much as the BoS hates Super Mutant or regular FO3 people hate Raiders. He helds them responsible for the death of his father. I don't want to open a debate about Enclave = Bad / BoS= Good or "not all Enclave soldiers are murderers" and stuf, but for me, Damian hates the Enclave more than anything and he has only one goal with them, destroying them.

As for romance... Patience, story is not finished yet (and I hope what I have in store will not end up like a cringy cliché teen romantic comedy)


"Well, why don't you tell us who you are and what you're doing here?"

The young brunette let her submachinegun hang from her hip by a strap and crossed her arms.

Damian looked at the two women in turn before finally answering.

"My name is Damian. I was on the Mall when I heard gunfire coming from this building and I came to investigate. And you? You must be here to retrieve the historical documents stored here, right?"

The two women exchanged glances.

"What makes you say that?" asked the brunette.

"This building probably doesn't contain any technology that could be of interest. It's obviously been looted many times by scavengers for scrap metal or wood from furniture and it's in the middle of a warzone, so few people would think to venture there. Unless, of course, it's to do a specific job, which would explain your presence here, the traps against the Super Mutants and the small installation behind me."

Damian pointed to a small table behind the sandbags that served as a shelter for the two women. On the table, a terminal was connected to several electrical cables that ran across the floor to a control box installed in the wall.

The brunette smiled and began to laugh silently. The redhead sighed and seemed to whisper the name of "Abraham Washington", the Rivet City collector of historical relics, and a long string of insults.

"Well done," said the brunette. "Good old Abraham Washington hired us both to find the Declaration of Independence, and I suppose he must have made you a similar offer?"

Remembering his meeting with the collector on his first visit to Rivet City, Damian nodded silently.

"Well, three relic hunters meeting each other on the same hunting ground is quite a twist of fate," said the young brunette.

"Actually, that's not why I'm here," Damian replied, holstering his pistol and fetching his assault rifle from among the charred corpses of the Super Mutants.

"Yeah, sure," the brunette chuckled. "You were just walking around D.C. and felt like visiting museums?"

Damian turned to the two women. He could walk away, but the idea of getting his hands on this priceless historical document was too tempting.

"What do you have in mind?" he asked.

"Well, since the three of us are all in pursuit of the same piece of paper and without us you have no chance of getting your hands on it, I propose a partnership to bring the Declaration back to Rivet City."

Damian thought for a moment. His hand slipped unconsciously to the Brotherhood's long-range radio. He still had no news of Tristan and was beginning to fear that something had happened to him. On the other hand, he was pretty sure he would not have to run all the way to the other end of the Capital Wasteland to find the Declaration of Independence and he could drop everything if the Brotherhood ever contacted him.

"Okay, I'm in," said Damian.

"Correct answer," smiled the young brunette.

She walked a little towards the center of the room and pointed to a circular marble slab.

"There's a freight elevator hidden in the floor of the room, right here. From there we will go to the basement and then you just have to follow the tour-guide."

"Before I follow you, I'd like you to tell me more about you and what we're going to find in the basement."

The young brunette raised her eyebrows, visibly surprised by the request.

"It's not often that you find people who are interested in something other than themselves," she said. My name is Sydney, treasure hunter, and this is Emaline, my..."

The young brunette left her sentence hanging, not quite sure how to define her relationship with the redhead.

"Her bodyguard," replied the redhead in a slightly aggressive tone.

"That's it," Sydney smiled. "We're treasure hunters looking out for each other."

Damian looked at Emaline. The latter looked at him again and then walked away towards the entrance of the museum.

"So, you've studied the museum plans?" Damian asked.

"That's right," Sydney answered. "Believe it or not, but the basement of this building is a maze. And as for what you were asking about what we might come across down there, I'm not sure what to answer. Any person would tell you there is a standard RobCo security system. Protectron and laser turrets and stuff, but given the fact that this is one of D.C.'s premier museums, I think we can expect a higher level of security, perhaps even military hardware."

"If that's the case, I don't think we're going to be able to get through with small arms."

Damian pointed to his assault rifle and the young brunette's weapon. The young woman smiled and grabbed her SMG. She unfolded the stock, untied the straps and gave it to Damian, under Emaline's suspicious eye.

The weapon was much lighter than he thought, and its design was slightly different from other 10mm submachineguns. Damian noticed that the young woman had engraved the word "Ultra" on the barrel.

"I always keep it under my pillow," Sydney smiled. "Usually, I load it with standard 10mm rounds, but now I use special ammunition, made by myself. It's effective against the armor plating of most robots, but in extreme cases, Emaline takes the wheel."

The redhead approached the table where Sydney's terminal was located. Under the table, she grabbed a khaki duffel bag and pulled out a minigun. Damian noted that the gun had a shortened barrel.

"Nothing like 5mm AP rounds to get rid of a Sentry bot and shred some muties."

Damian waited for the two women to finish equipping themselves by watching the entrance of the museum, listening for Super Mutant footsteps. Emaline re-installed several traps and mines near the entrance before returning to the center of the room. She waved at Sydney, who was standing behind her computer. The young brunette quickly typed on the keyboard.

A small whistle was heard, and the center slab of the marble floor slowly rose, revealing an elevator shaft big enough to fit four or five people.

Damian and the two relic hunters entered the elevator and descended to the basement.

Seconds later, the elevator shaft came to a standstill, revealing a large concrete room supported by four metal pillars.

To his surprise, Damian saw Sydney and Emaline scatter around the room and point their weapons at the door in front of the elevator.

Damian got off the elevator and approached the door. Immediately he heard the speakers in the room crackle and a voice coming out.

"Gentlemen, today I am sending you a message of extreme urgency. Our defenses have been breached and we will soon engage the enemy. Remember, the will of the people is the only legitimate basis for a regime. I, Button Gwinnett, your leader, representative of Georgia, assure you that I have not begun to fight."

"What's this non-sense?" Emaline asked, staring at the speakers and frowning.

"No idea," Sydney said, shrugging. "But it looks like we're going to have a welcoming committee."

The voice, that of a man, spoke with assurance and authority, urging men to fight against intruders, and a speech full of references to freedom, democracy and independence.

Sydney unlocked the door and they arrived in front of a staircase leading to a small room, lit by light coming out of an air vent.

As Damian followed the two women and listened to the voice that continued to make its warrior speech straight from another age, he found that everything was getting stranger and stranger.

The fact that people were able to take up residence in the basement of the museum after the Great War was quite possible. What Damian found strange was that if people lived here and considered him and the two young women as intruders, then why make an announcement on the museum's speakers and risk drawing the intruders' attention instead of ambushing them?

Another disturbing point was that the voice said its name was Button Gwinnett and posed as a representative of the State of Georgia. Damian was convinced that Button Gwinnett was one of the signatories of the Declaration of Independence in 1776. It was one thing for someone to take the name of this famous historical figure, but it was quite another to act like him.

Convinced that his questions would be answered sooner or later, Damian turned his attention to the basement.

The maintenance rooms and corridors seemed endless. Sydney looked at an old building plan for a long time and pointed the way forward. Up to now, they had only come across rusty Robotbrain or weathered Protectrons.

Sydney led the way, followed by Damian. The idea that she might lead him into a trap or that Emaline might shoot him in the back occupied a small part of his mind, but for the time being he was concentrating on their progress through the basement and on the different robots they passed.

They arrived near a small room, which Sydney pointed out as the generator room powering the security turrets. The room was guarded by a Sentry bot. Damian let Emaline pass in front of him and watched the redheaded girl turn the machine into a steaming pile of scrap metal.

After destroying the generators with a grenade, they resumed their advance, walking past storage or maintenance rooms.

As they explored the place, they came across several safes with digital locks that could not be opened. Sydney tried to hack the lock with a small portable device that looked strangely like alien or Enclave technology, but the young woman quickly gave up. These chests probably contained historical documents in reserve for the Archives, but to clutter up the chests to open them later was impossible. The contents of the chests would remain in the basements until another group of adventurers or scavengers managed to open them.

Messages on the loudspeakers were becoming increasingly rare and as they progressed, Damian noted that the robots were fewer in number and for the most part all disabled or out of order. He also noticed human remains next to homemade firearms or laser guns, a sign that others before them had tried to take over the museum's historical treasures.

"Here it is."

Damian and the two treasure hunters were standing in front of yet another metal door. This one was different from the others. There was a small sign next to it that said "Vault".

"Okay, let's go."

Sydney unlocked the door and they rushed inside and stumbled upon something unexpected.

Instead of a vault where rows of safes had to be piled up, they found themselves in a large office, furnished with an arched table in the center of the room and small shelves or drawers along the walls.

At the back of the room, a door and a security wall protected a row of small safes with electronic padlocks.

Standing behind the desk, a Protectron robot faced Damian and the two young women, and laser turrets occupied the corners of the room and seemed to be always active, slowly following their movements as they moved through the office.

The Protectron had partially peeling blue and yellow paint on its body, claws and feet and wore a white wig on the glass dome housing its sensors.

Without giving the three humans time to speak, the machine addressed them in the same voice they had heard in the museum's speakers.

"So, you were able to penetrate our defenses, kill my best soldiers, and invade my home! But I, Button Gwinnett, have not said my last word and have not yet begun to fight! You will never steal our freedom!"

"What the hell?" Sydney mumbled with a raised eyebrow.

Regardless of the young woman's remark, the robot continued talking as if nothing had happened.

"The Declaration will remain here as the symbol shouting to the face of the globe, 'We are a free country!'."

Emaline raised her minigun but stopped when she heard the laser turrets pointing at her.

"Are you Button Gwinnett?" asked Damian. "The second signatory of the Declaration of Independence?"

Still, motionless, the Protectron began to speak with a satisfied tone, in places of the mechanical and jerky voice of its fellow machines.

"Oh, I see my reputation has preceded me. Very well. Then you know that I am not to be mocked with impunity! I am ready to challenge you to a duel! What do you choose? Swords? Pistols?"

"It's... Very noble of you to... To risk your life for a document...," said Damian, who was careful to choose his words.

"'A document?'" the robot barked. "The Declaration is the doctrine enunciated by my colleagues of the Second Continental Congress, which delivers us from the tyranny of King George III!"

Damian met the lost glances of Sydney and Emaline who did not understand a word the Protectron was saying. The robot had been programmed to play the role of Gwinnett and was now mistaking Damian and the two women for British soldiers, the same ones who had fought in the United States War of Independence in 1776.

"Uh...," Damian said. "Are you aware that was over 500 years ago?"

The Protectron came suddenly towards the office and startled the three humans.

"I will not be fooled by the lies and deceit of the crown of England," he said. "But if you wish to settle this matter without bloodshed, may I suggest that you present me with your unconditional surrender?"

Damian exchanged glances with Sydney and Emaline. At the slightest movement, all three of them would be turned to ashes by the laser turrets. Damian then had an idea. He thought about how he had solved the water problem at Megaton. He walked slowly, seeing the turrets following him out of the corner of his eye, and he stopped just in front of the office. He took a deep breath and after carefully choosing his words, he addressed the machine.

"I am Thomas Jefferson, I'm here to release the Declaration, by order of Georges Washington."

He heard Sydney approaching him.

"What are you doing?" she whispered nervously.

Damian didn't have time to respond that the Protectron hiccupped in surprise and uttered a crude military salute.

"By all Saints! It's an honor and a privilege, Sir! Please forgive my rudeness! I didn't recognize you!"

Damian remained silent, surprised that the ruse could have fooled the machine.

"I've been waiting for this day for so long! I hope you have been satisfied with our fortifications and that our troops are living up to your expectations. They are waiting for your order to retake the capital."

"I can't believe this is working," Emaline whispered, giddy-eyed.

The Protectron bowed slightly and after a brief silence, resumed a more suspicious tone.

"May I ask who these two young women are with you and where you intend to take the Declaration?"

Damian cleared his throat, giving himself a few more seconds to remember his History lessons and prepare his response.

"These two young women are distinguished Ladies from the Kingdom of France, who have come to help us in our fight against England and help us gain our Independence. You owe them respect and must answer their requests as if they were from me."

The Protectron moved slowly towards Sydney and bowed to her.

"Mes respects, Madame. C'est avec un immense honneur que je vous souhaite la bienvenue dans ma noble demeure, et vous présente tout mes remerciement pour l'aide de votre nation face à la tyrannie britannique," said the robot while holding out its claw to Sydney.

The young woman, looked at Damian and Emaline. Both shrugged. None of them had understood what the Protectron had said, also Damian assumed it was French. Sydney hesitated for a brief moment and reached out her hand. She grimaced as the robot took her hand in its cold metal claw and mimed a hand kiss.

Emaline let out a small laugh, quickly choked when she realized that the robot was going to do the same thing to her. Damian saved her the trouble by turning to the Protectron.

"I intend to take the Declaration to the headquarters of the authority to..."

"So the Parliament is still standing?" cried the robot who was about to grab the redheaded girl's hand. "God bless the Star-Spangled Banner! What about the war? Have we won? Did we beat the British back?"

"Yeah. It's over."

The machine breathed a long sigh of relief and headed for the safety door at the back of the room. The safety door unlocked automatically, and the robot opened one of the chests. It returned a few seconds later, holding a black leather tube between its claws.

The Protectron gently gave the tube to Damian. He took out a document, carefully he unrolled it as slowly as possible. He felt Sydney and Emaline standing behind him and looking at him with bright eyes as he revealed the contents of the paper that had turned yellow over the years.

As soon as he read the first line, Damian knew he had the Declaration of Independence in his hands. A broad smile appeared on his face. He, who had always been fascinated by History, held one of its most important relics in his hands.

"What are my last orders?" asked the robot.

"You can do what you want," Emaline said, looking at the document and already thinking of the caps reward promised by Washington.

Damian looked up at the Protectron and the laser turrets but was relieved when he saw the robot give him a military salute and go into standby mode and heard the turrets deactivate.

"A priceless piece of history," he said as he put the document back in the tube and closed the lid.

"Yeah, yeah," said Sydney. "How about we go get paid?"

About an hour later, the trio had reached Rivet City. They had left the basements of the Archives by taking an elevator at the end of a long corridor containing several maintenance stations for Protectrons, all wearing white wigs and bearing the name of one of the signatories of the Declaration of Independence.

Inside the Archives, they had to fight against a small group of Super Mutants and quickly eliminated them, thanks to the tremendous firepower of Emaline's minigun.

When they gave the Declaration to Abraham Washington, he almost burst into tears. He had unfolded the document with little hiccups and looked like a child opening his Christmas presents. He was so happy to finally be able to hold the centerpiece of his museum in his hands that he had just given Sydney a bag of caps, without bothering to count them.

Damian had watched Washington put the document in a frame and look at it from every angle.

He felt a pat on the shoulder. He turned around to see Sydney hand him a small purse.

"Your share," she said with a smile. "Go ahead, you can count it."

"I trust you," Damian replied with a smile and tucked the purse away.

"Pretty good for a first partnership," said the young woman.

"I have to admit that I'm pretty good at finding lost or hidden stuff," smiled Damian.

They left the museum, followed by Emaline. They found themselves on one of the ship's exterior walkways overlooking the ruins South of Washington, D.C., and Sydney grabbed a bottle of booze from her travel bag and uncorked it.

"To our good fortune," she exclaimed before taking a big sip.

She passed the bottle to Emaline, who in turn drank, and then gave the bottle to Damian. Damian looked at the bottle with a strange look and took a sip. He couldn't hold back a cough.

"Damn it! What the hell's that thing?"

Sydney laughed and grabbed the bottle. She took a second sip and spun the bottle again. Damian declined politely. He looked out at the river and the destroyed buildings in the distance. He wondered what he would do when the Enclave was no longer a threat. Perhaps when he returned to the Vault, he could go with Amata to a peaceful place far from the Capital Wasteland. Maybe they could find a place spared by the bombs or radiation and live there.

A crackling sound attracted his attention. Paladin Tristan's voice crackled in the Brotherhood radio. Damian quickly grabbed the device and, answered.

"Tristan? Is that you?"

"Affirmative. Your orders are to proceed to the Citadel immediately. I'll give you the details on the spot. Lyons' Pirde actual over and out."

Damian put the radio away and turned to the two women.

"I also thought it was you," said Emaline. "There aren't many young guys with a Pip-Boy are friends with the Brotherhood and wearing a Ranger armor."

Sydney laughed.

"The legend himself went relic hunting into the ruins with us. What an honor."

Damian groaned and sighed. The young brunette gave him a charming smile.

"Well, I think it's time to part ways," Sydney said. "If you want to work with the two hottest treasure hunters of the Wasteland again, come on down to Underworld."

Damian nodded and began heading towards the door leading inside the ship.

"Come on, my Little Moonbeam," said Emaline whose head was beginning to get drunk. We're going to eat."

Damian froze. He turned towards the two women.

"What did you say?"

"What?" replied the redhead.

"You said something about the Moon."

"Oh, 'Little Moonbeam'," Sydney replied. It's just a silly nickname my father gave me when I was a kid. Emaline is the only one who has the right to call me that, even if I don't like it."

"Why?" Damian dared to ask.

The young brunette hesitated for a few seconds before shrugging.

"My father taught me everything about firearms, and that's how I was able to get my SMG up from A to Z. But the day I turned 14, he left. He abandoned me overnight. I guess I don't need to tell you how hard it is to live alone for a girl that age."

She shrugged again and grabbed the bottle Emaline was handing her.

"I don't know where he went, and I don't care. I just hope the bastard got what he deserved, that's all."

Damian remained silent. He rummaged through his bag and grabbed the little box where he kept all the holotapes of his father or those he had found in the Wastes. He quickly sorted them out and gave one to Sydney.

The young woman grabbed the holotape and twisted it between her fingers. Her gaze fell upon the small, damaged tag. She frowned and opened her mouth slightly and then slowly shook her head.

She reached down to the bag at her feet and searched inside for a small tape deck. She inserted the tape inside.

A man's voice came from the device. Immediately after hearing it, Sydney put a hand over her mouth and hiccupped. Her eyes filled with tears as the voice spoke.

The man in the tape seemed hurt and was addressing a little girl, calling her "my Little Moonbeam". When he said Sydney's name, the young woman burst into tears.

The tape ended. Sydney cried silently. Emaline approached her and gently hugged her. The young brunette hugged the tape recorder against her. She raised her head towards Damian and wiped her face.

"Where... where did you find it?"

"In the ruins of D.C... I... I found completely by accident, and it was when you said 'Moonbeam' that I remembered I had it."

Sydney listened silently as Damian told her how he found the holotape. When his story ended and he didn't know what else to say, Damian remained silent and gave Sydney the time she needed to come to her senses and take the news.

"Thank you," said the young woman. "Thank you for giving me this holotape."

She untied the strap from her submachinegun and handed it to Damian.

"I'd like you to take my gun, as a thank you."

"No, I can't accept," Damian said.

Sydney insisted again, but Damian again declined. The young woman thanked him again several times.

"I have to go," Damian said, putting the box back in his bag. "Maybe I'll see you another time."

He shook hands with Sydney and Emaline and left the bridge and headed for the Citadel.


Hope you enjoyed.

I don't know if real life Button Gwinnett spoke French, nor if the Protectron can (maybe, in case of tourists coming to visit the museum before the Great War), but I could not resist putting something in French.

Here is the translation "My respects, Madam. It is with great honour that I welcome you to my noble home, and I thank you for your nation's help in the face of British tyranny."

Until next time.