Jennifer didn't get much sleep that night. She spent too much time tossing and turning in her little cot. She listened intently to the number of sounds increasing in the hall as time went on and, presumably, more and more Brotherhood members woke to attend to their daily tasks - whatever those were. She was so focused on a peculiar clomping noise - power armor, maybe? - that she jumped in surprise when she felt a sudden tapping on her leg. She trailed her eyes up to meet the owner of said hand.
The woman loomed over her in the way most of the Brotherhood members did with their ridiculous height. She sported military-cut grey hair, shorter on the sides and longer on the top. Her dark brown skin was lined with age, particularly around the mouth and on her brow. Her expression was serious, but not unkind. She was dressed in a strange jet black jumpsuit, accented by metal pieces and various zippers. One metal clasp stood out in particular, situated on the woman's collarbone.
Jennifer swung her legs over the side of the cot and stood, facing the other woman, an eyebrow raised in question. The older woman laid a hand on her chest. "Hail to you. I am Star Paladin Cross, keeper of the ARM, and Seneschal to Elder Lyons." Cross extended her hand out to gesture to Jennifer. "You are James's child, yes?"
That didn't really feel like a question, but at least it was polite. Jennifer nodded affirmatively, ignoring the flood of pain at the sound of her dad's name. "Right. Jennifer Williams. It's nice to meet you, Star Paladin."
Cross paused momentarily, a half-smile sweeping across her face briefly. "Polite, like he was." At Jennifer's confused look, she elaborated. "I am honored to say I was acquainted with your father, and I am sorry to hear of his passing."
"It's-" Her voice cracked under the strain of speaking about her dad's death. Jennifer cleared her throat gently. "Thank you." There, nice and simple.
Cross nodded to acknowledge Jennifer's words. "However, I did not wake you to speak of such things so early in the morning. I came to advise you of a meeting Elder Lyons wished for you to attend, if you would allow me to escort you there?"
Well, they don't waste any time here, do they? Jennifer felt humor flicker in her chest briefly and die. "Of course." She looked down at what she was wearing. "Actually, I had . . . other clothes . . ." She gestured vaguely to herself. "Is this, um, okay to wear?"
Cross briefly looked over her, and started to speak. "That should suffice for-" She paused and, after looking for a moment longer, changed her mind. "Perhaps you should change. Where are these other clothes?"
Jennifer briefly explained where her clothes had been taken in little detail. Cross left the med bay to fetch them, under the correct assumption that Jennifer would in no way be able to retrace her steps from the night before and it would be faster and less painful for both of them if she handled it. Cross returned in record time, clutching her boots and vault suit.
Seeing as everyone else in the med bay was still asleep, Jennifer decided to hastily change by her cot, not particularly caring about the indifferent presence of Cross standing by the closed door, who wasn't paying her any mind. It's only my jeans, anyway.
Moments later, they were on their way. Dogmeat was left behind in the med bay to look after her stuff. Jennifer discreetly pulled the collar of her vault suit closer to her nose to bask in that 'freshly-laundered' smell.
Several turns and a pair of double doors later, and they arrived at a large meeting room. A circular table dominated the space, with chairs lined up along the edges, and cans of clean water laid out at each spot. A flag hung on the wall - blue, with the cog, sword, and wings of the Brotherhood stitched in white in the center. It made for a pretty picture.
They were the only two in the room. Cross apparently had a tendency to arrive early.
Cross gestured to a pair of chairs and the two sat. As her companion didn't seem inclined to conversation at the moment, Jennifer pulled up her Pip-Boy and slid the keyboard out. She had been working on a code off and on that would hopefully allow her to send messages to a terminal after she connected it to her Pip-Boy, but she was having difficulty with a particular part…
She frowned at the device on her arm and itched for a cigarette. She tapped a few lines out, studied them, then sighed in annoyance and erased them. She became absorbed in her task, blocking out her surroundings to narrow her focus onto this program.
A few minutes later, Jennifer was vaguely aware of voices floating around her. They didn't seem important, so she tuned them out. This left her wholly unprepared when somebody lightly kicked the leg of her chair, jerking her to attention.
She snapped out an annoyed "what?" as she looked up. Sarah stared back at her, entirely too amused considering the fairly aggressive tone of voice Jennifer had used.
Jennifer blinked up at her, shocked, and started backtracking for absolutely no reason. "I, uh, sorry, um, I meant-" She closed her mouth, deciding silence was significantly better than whatever the fuck that was.
Sarah crossed her arms, mild amusement still flitting across her face. "Well, good morning to you, too." She pointed a finger in Cross's direction. "I was talking to Star Paladin Cross about the meeting. I thought you might like to know more about what to expect."
Jennifer nodded gratefully. She had kind of been trying to avoid thinking about it so as not to shred her nerves. Sarah sat in the chair next to her, turning to face her more fully, one leg crossed over the other at the knee. Jennifer scooted a fraction of an inch closer, drawn to the other woman's magnetic orbit.
Sarah had already mentioned before that the meeting was about how the Brotherhood would engage the Enclave strategically - apparently Madison Li had already spoken to the Elder about the G.E.C.K her dad had been searching for, and that's what Jennifer would be focusing on finding, for when they eventually took back the Purifier.
Sarah explained Cross's role in more detail, with the woman herself chiming in when she deemed appropriate. Cross had come from the West Coast with the Elder and was his right hand man, so to speak. Star Paladin was a step lower than Sarah's own rank of Sentinel, but it had many of the same benefits, such as independence regarding orders. She would probably be assigned to the Purifier Project to assist in whatever way she deemed most helpful.
Head Scribe Rothchild would be in attendance, as the lead scientist of the Brotherhood, along with the three Proctors under his direct command. There would be some Paladins that were a lower ranking than Cross, but had some sort of field command and were therefore relevant. Easy enough.
People started filtering in, automatically taking seemingly arbitrary seats around the table. Sarah continued talking in a low tone of voice so as not to disturb the others. Soon enough, an older man walked into the room, face lined harshly with age and stress. He wore robes similarly designed to the Scribes' robes but were dark blue in color, matching the flag behind him. She could vaguely recall meeting him briefly yesterday after the Memorial group arrived at the Citadel.
Everyone stood from their seats in the presence of Elder Lyons, and Jennifer scrambled to follow suit, a few moments behind everyone. Sarah tossed her a slightly sheepish glance from the corner of her eye for failing spectacularly to mention that little detail.
Elder Lyons walked gracefully to his seat on the other side of the table; an older, balding Scribe dressed in red followed at his side; the man must be Rothchild. Elder Lyons waved a hand and everyone resumed sitting, and the meeting started.
The information Sarah gave her put the following discussions into context. Cross was assigned to the Purifier Project to pursue however she saw fit. The Elder discussed the technological differences between the armor and weapons that the Enclave and Brotherhood employed, respectively, with the Scribes, and assigned them to the task of finding ways to compensate for the disadvantage they faced. Apparently the Brotherhood was in bad shape after the Outcasts left and took a lot of their equipment to fulfill whatever end they were working towards. She filed that away for future consideration. The Paladins were to send out their reconnaissance teams to gather more information on the Enclave's manpower and tactics, so they could form a strategy to fight back.
The main problem was that they had no idea where their main base of operations was, and even less leads for finding it. People offered up ideas, they were considered, and eventually thrown out. On and on they went in that tedious, never-ending loop.
Sarah offered to send the Pride in to track them down. That was shot down. The Paladin recon teams offered to try and capture Enclave members to interrogate for information. That was turned away with surprising vehemence, although Jennifer didn't see the flaws in it. The Scribes were currently debating scientific strategies for locating their base.
Jennifer, personally, hadn't contributed until this point. She'd been stuck on the Eyebots the Enclave used, the memory triggered by something a Scribe had mentioned. She hadn't realized, hadn't paid enough attention, to notice their significance, but now she couldn't stop focusing on it. They were everywhere. Downtown, near Megaton, bopping about on the various roads she'd traveled since leaving the Vault. But why? Not just propaganda, surely. She didn't recall meeting anyone on the surface that actually believed what they were saying - except that weird old guy in Megaton. He must be having the time of his life right now.
She remembered helping Three Dog replace his satellite antenna, and the weak signal he had before that. Compared to the Enclave, who never had a weak signal, no matter where in the wasteland the Eyebots hovered.
Jennifer straightened suddenly in her chair, struck by a lightning bolt of realization. Cross glanced at her from her seat. The Eyebots didn't have a bad signal because they were the signal amplifier. Whatever base the Enclave were hiding in had a main antenna they used to send out radio broadcasts, and the Eyebots wandered out as signal boosters, giving area-wide coverage.
If they were relaying back information to their base, that information could be pulled straight from whatever hard drive storage the little flying computer used and ripped from its coding. Jennifer mentally patted herself on the back, but deflated when she realized she had to actually articulate that discovery out loud, to a room full of people she didn't know. Well, mostly.
Jennifer turned to Cross at her side, who still hadn't glanced away from her. Her voice stuttered from excitement when she tried to speak. "It's- the Eyebots- they're radio receivers!" Cross stared blankly back at her brilliance.
Admittedly, she was being a little incoherent. She tried again. "And amplifiers! That's why the signal is never bad." That was barely any better. God, why can't she just use words to convey simple ideas like a normal person?
Sarah leaned closer to her from her other side. "You've got something?" Jennifer nodded and Sarah raised an eyebrow at her in a silent request for an explanation. Jennifer realigned her thoughts and more coherently explained to the two women what her idea was.
Cross nodded slowly, but she didn't look entirely convinced by it. "It can't be that easy, can it?" Jennifer hesitated, biting back her instinctual response of yes it can because that wasn't quite accurate, and there was no need to get defensive.
She relented after a moment. "Capturing it would be the hard part." And the information stored in the Eyebot was probably encoded. If these so-called Scribes were any good, though, that shouldn't pose too much of a problem.
Cross nodded to her and raised her voice over the cacophony of the three Proctors almost-yelling at each other to get Rothchild's attention. He turned their way, raising an eyebrow in question.
Jennifer shifted in her seat nervously, but re-explained how the Eyebots could potentially be used to find the coordinates of the base. Rothchild hummed thoughtfully. "And how do you suggest we go about capturing one? We couldn't use EMPs. It would corrupt the data storage. . ." He trailed off dismissively, already turning back to his Proctors.
Jennifer jumped back in at that. "I was thinking maybe sonic emitters. They should be able to disrupt the electric currents without damaging the memory."
Rothchild paused and turned back to her with the full weight of his attention. It made her slightly uncomfortable. "De-electrifying the piezoelectric materials?" She could see him mentally turning it over in his head. "That could work." Rothchild turned back to Elder Lyons and started discussing the idea with him.
The ball of tension stuck in her chest slowly started to unravel. Well, that wasn't so bad. Then Elder Lyons turned the heavy weight of his gaze onto her, and the tension rewound itself again. She mentally shook herself. Sarah said he wanted to talk about her role moving forward, or however she had phrased it, so this wasn't unexpected.
He silently studied her for a moment. Jennifer stared back at him. His voice sounded like the crackling paper in the burned pre-war books that laid in the downtown ruins. "So, it would seem we come to the last part of our agenda for this meeting today." He looked at Rothchild, who pulled out a map and unrolled it so it sat on the table for her to see. Paper weights were laid on the corners to keep it flat. "According to reports from our reconnaissance teams, the locations of three prime locations for the G.E.C.K should be in Vaults 106, 92, and 87." Two markers were laid on the map; one shockling close to her Vault, and the other near the edge of the map. "Unfortunately, we have not acquired the exact coordinates of Vault 87." Ah, that explained why there were only two markers.
Elder Lyons turned his gaze from her to the map of the wasteland. "That should not be a problem, however, as our reports indicate that Vaults 106 and 92 are more likely to be in possession of a G.E.C.K. If they are not, then we shall reassess our strategy and focus on learning the location of Vault 87." His cool blue eyes met her, an exact match to his daughter's own color. "If you have no objections to this plan, then our meeting is concluded."
Everyone's eyes turned to her. She looked at the map for another long moment. The strategy was sound enough, and she probably was the most experienced person with Vaults at the meeting. Jennifer did wish that the plan involved more Enclave killing than it currently did, but if the wasteland was going to be as occupied as Elder Lyons indicated it was, then she should have plenty of that on her hands.
She nodded her head in assent, and Elder Lyons dismissed everyone with a wave of his hand.
Sarah turned to her and pointed to her father with a thumb over her shoulder. "I have some things I need to speak with the Elder about. Don't cause too much trouble, vaultie." Jennifer watched her walk around the meeting table for a long moment before turning to Cross next to her.
"Well, that was fun." She wouldn't be convincing anyone with that tone of voice, but that was fine. "What should we do now?"
Cross tapped the tabletop with a long finger in thought. "I already discussed authorizing you for power armor training and trading in the Citadel with the Elder right before I went to find you, so we should discuss the specifics of those before moving forward."
Power armor training? Right, she didn't use that stuff, there's no reason they would already know that she could use it from the Anchorage simulation. But she could definitely use some trading - she needed to buy fusion cells, Stimpaks, maybe some more of the components for her homemade grenades, and have somebody look at the weird noise her laser rifle was making after she slammed it into the armor of an Enclave soldier while escaping the Memorial. Probably not her brightest idea, but he was dead, so it worked well enough.
As Jennifer explained to the other woman that she already knew how to use power armor, Cross's face continued to become more and more neutrally passive. "Ah, yes, I recall hearing on the radio that you cleared out an Outcast base somewhere near Bailey's Crossroads."
Jennifer sputtered in response to her veiled accusation. "On the radio? Three Dog said that? They tried to kill me after making a deal with me! And he wasn't even there, what would he know about it?" Damn, Three Dog really just didn't know when to quit. And where did he even get his information from? Does he have spies everywhere? Is Moira spying for him?!
She knew Moira wasn't spreading gossip about her to Three Dog, but somebody definitely was. She shook her head in despair at the thought.
Dogmeat was given the chance to run around outside and stretch his legs before heading back underground with her. Jennifer passed through the Bailey and took in all the details around her.
The area was large, made out of cracked concrete, and filled with people moving to and fro with a sort of manic energy. Shooting ranges made out of scrap metal and tires lined the area where she could see Initiates - dressed in orange suits similar to Cross's - practiced their aim against large targets. In a corner, there were two women grappling each other in a ring of bodies. The spectators let out a cheer when one of the combatants fell to the ground, nose and lip bleeding from a well-placed head butt. Some were running laps around the edge of the area, others were doing push-ups or pull-ups. The air was filled with the lingering stench of sweat and body odor, generated by all the activity, and Jennifer crinkled her nose in protest. All of this organized chaos was led by a red haired man in power armor, shouting above the cacophony in a voice that rang with authority.
Everything was still a little hazy, but she didn't remember seeing anyone out here when the Memorial group had escaped. Then again, they had arrived at a strange time of day. That probably had something to do with it.
Interestingly enough, she could make a guess at the fact that these Initiates were actually wastelanders before they joined the Brotherhood. Surely they were well fed now, but it was easy to tell that once upon a time, most of the people training here had suffered from malnutrition and radiation poisoning growing up that had stunted their growth to some extent. They were leaner than most Brotherhood Knights and Paladins that she had seen in the Citadel, and a bit shorter than them too. Still taller than her, though, whose physicality was different from either groups'.
She'd noticed in her travels that the Vault environment she grew up in led to people that were shorter and more compact from the strict food rationing they experienced growing up. Combining that with the nutritionally deficient pre-war packaged foods that comprised their diets and the minimally working hydroponics garden, it's certainly no surprise that Vault 101 turned out vacuum-sealed residents.
Jennifer weaved between bodies in the direction of the large gate. Dogmeat stuck to her side, ears pressed flat against his head. Poor boy didn't like loud noises, and he needed a break from being trapped inside and underground.
Speaking with the guard for a moment, they raised a hand towards someone stationed at the top of the wall and the gate was lifted with a mighty shift of dirt and the low groan of rusted metal. She'd only get ten minutes, but that was fine when the two of them really just needed to stretch their legs.
Stepping out, Dogmeat raced past her legs to frolic in the grey dirt and rocks and probably roll around in something unmentionable, as he was wont to do. Jennifer nodded to Bael, the looming guard stationed outside the entrance, and wandered down to stand on one of the rocks overlooking the banks of the Potomac.
Fishing a cigarette out of her pocket, she turned to look out towards the Memorial as she lit the end. Narrowing her eyes, Jennifer wished she had brought her sniper rifle to take a closer look at whatever the Enclave was doing. She could make out movement and watched as a vertibird took off in the distance, but she couldn't see anything specific.
Her chest tightened at the thought of the Enclave and smoked billowed out of her mouth from her deep sigh. Jennifer's thoughts wandered to her dad's loud disapproval at her newly-formed smoking habit, but she quickly shook her head at that memory.
She finished smoking her cigarette, pointedly not thinking about anything at all. Shoving the butt of it into her pocket, Jennifer sharply whistled for Dogmeat who was, at that moment, joyously rolling around on his back. As she turned to walk back into the Citadel, the glinting flash of light on metal caught her eye. She focused her gaze on an Eyebot hovering on the other side of the river. Narrowing her eyes, she studied it for a long moment before turning back towards the gate. The metal barrier shut behind her with a thunderous clang.
The rest of that day was spent getting her gear in order and trading with the quartermaster, Knight Captain Durga, who was prickly and no-nonsense in a refreshing way. They didn't waste time making small talk and instead got right to business exchanging caps. Of which, she was getting a little low. Selling raider gear brought in a surprising amount of money, but she had been so busy hanging around the Memorial that she hadn't had the opportunity to sell anything in a while.
Jennifer had made her way back to the med bay to get as much sleep as she could, but after feeling like she had just closed her eyes, she was already restless and awake again. At least the clock on her Pip-Boy could prove she had gotten some shut eye, regardless of what her body was telling her.
She rolled onto her other side, but her shoulder would ache if she tried to lay on her right for too long. She eventually sighed in defeat and sluggishly got up. She had to step over Dogmeat, who was laying on his side on the ground next to her cot, to reach her boots and tie them on. He slid one eye open to watch what she was doing for a moment, before pointedly closing it again and choosing sleep over whatever antics she decided to get up to at ridiculous o'clock in the morning. Damn traitor.
The door creaked as she shut it behind her. Driven by a mysterious urge, she retraced her steps towards the mess hall, which was surprisingly unchallenging. The door was open again, apparently available for the night shift to come and raid at all hours.
Jennifer hovered in the doorway for a moment before wandering to the food stacked on the counters and gently nabbing a slightly crumpled box of Fancy Lad Snack Cakes. She hurried back over to the same booth from last night, already plucking at the packaging to rip it open.
She munched on the pre-war snack, and the food or the sugar or both woke her up a little from her groggy, half-alive state. She had just shoved the last piece of the first snack cake in her mouth as she watched someone else enter the mess and make their way to the counter.
Sarah Lyons turned around with a Nuka Cola held aloft in her right hand, exactly the same as yesterday except for her clothes. Identical, right down to the slightly raised brow in mild surprise at seeing her sitting there. Jennifer hurriedly swallowed her mouthful of snack cake, and when had she stopped chewing? Jennifer watched something shift on Sarah's face, and with significantly less hesitation, Sarah turned back and grabbed another Nuka Cola, before launching it through the air in an arc towards Jennifer with an amused, "think fast!"
An embarrassingly squeaky noise of protest slipped out of her mouth as she raised a hand and caught the room temperature glass bottle half an inch from her face. Thank God for her good hand-eye coordination. She stared incredulously at Sarah for a long moment. "What if that had hit my face?"
The other woman shrugged in a far too relaxed manner. "But it didn't, because you have good reflexes." She meandered towards the booth and slid into the other side - the material of her grey t-shirt stretched against her well-muscled biceps. Jennifer softly cleared her throat and focused on opening her Nuka Cola.
After a long moment of struggling, she twisted the top off with a triumphant "hmph!" under her breath. Looking up, she caught Sarah unsubtly watching her open her cola with slight amusement.
The other woman twisted her own bottle cap between her fingers, seemingly contemplating something. "So it looks like you'll be going vault hunting, huh? Is that going to be weird, considering-" Sarah gestured to Jennifer's vault suit, referring to the fact that she was from a vault.
Jennifer hummed in contemplation. "I don't know. Maybe. But I guess I am the best person for the job, right? Unless the Brotherhood raids vaults more often than anyone is telling me."
Sarah smiled mirthlessly. "We don't. Our chapter hasn't been outside D.C in twenty years, and the vaults we know of aren't in the ruins."
Jennifer swirled the drink in her bottle. "So, does that mean you don't have any tips for vault hunting?"
Sarah sat back in the booth seat, surprisingly serious. It made Jennifer sit up straighter in attention. "Honestly, I don't know if they're dangerous, but I know they're difficult to get into, and there usually aren't people inside them." She paused and chewed over what she would say next. "I don't think you're being sent on a suicide mission, but be careful." She looked openly concerned.
The sentiment had heat crawling up her neck in embarrassment and mixed with the heaviness sitting in her chest. "Don't tell me you're worried, Sentinel." Jennifer tried for casually teasing, but it came out a bit too wry and fell more on the side of bitter.
Damn her, Sarah noticed it, too, and blinked in surprise. Her face slid back into smooth confidence, but it was distant and cool. "Not at all, vault girl." She gave one last flick of her bottle cap and left it spinning on the booth table as she stood up and walked out.
The cap rolled to a stop. Jennifer left after staring at it for a long, long time and tried to untangle the mess in her head. Dragging her feet through the halls of the Citadel, she realized she did feel a little bitter at the Brotherhood. She was being sent out into the wasteland with no backup and next to no information about the situation she was going into, and she didn't have expectations for them, exactly, but it did still sting with disappointment. She thought- well, she's not exactly sure what she thought, but even if people do call her the Lone Wanderer it would be nice to have people to rely on, sometimes. People outside of Moira and Gob, specifically.
She pushed the door open that led to the Bailey. It was still early morning, and the stars shone down brightly from the dark curtain of the sky. Jennifer still wasn't sure why that slight bitterness was being directed at Sarah, though, when all the other woman had done was go out of her way to help her since she arrived. She tried to take a sip of her cola, but when she brought the bottle to her mouth, she realized it was empty.
Hopping and scrambling, she climbed up onto the flattest piece of rubble she could find. Jennifer stared out to the horizon until the sun rose in glorious color, and kept staring until her eyes burned.
She managed to avoid the burst of Initiates flooding from the doors to start their morning training routines. Jennifer slunk through the halls back to the med bay in search of her gear. Approaching the door, it took her a moment to recognize the form of Star Paladin Cross in full power armor, minus the helmet, looming outside the door. She sighed, dreading the slowly building headache forming behind her eyes.
Cross raised a hand at Jennifer's approach, face neutral. "Hail to you. I have a matter I would discuss with you, if I may." Jennifer nodded at her to continue. "Many years ago, I helped escort your father across the wastes." She paused for a moment, deep in thought. "It was the best I could do at the time to help him in his efforts. Now, I offer to accompany you to help complete his journey."
Jennifer took a moment to process this offer, mind sluggish from lack of sleep. While one soldier wasn't quite the firepower she had been hoping for, it would be good to have a trained soldier accompany her, and Cross seemed trustworthy enough.
Realizing her mind was already made up, she stuck a hand out for Cross to shake. "I would be honored to have you with me, Star Paladin." Her mouth twisted into a wry grin. "Now let's go kick some Enclave ass."
A/N: We have officially started Act II, everybody. Three cheers all around!
I spent so much time researching sonic emitters and how they would affect computers and radio signals. I long for death. Additionally, readers will notice instead of going straight to Vault 87, there are some detours ahead. I believe this about as divergent as the main quest plot points get until Broken Steel, where I shake things up a bit. And yes, I did change the color of the Brotherhood flag. You're reading my fic so you follow my rules, and the rules say orange flags aren't allowed in this house.
Remember to leave reviews, and check out my tumblr knoxxie-writes for some extra content!