"I still don't trust that guy. There's something off about him."
Nora did her best to wring the water out her hair and popped another rad-x into her mouth as Preston griped.
Truth be told, she didn't trust Sully Mathis either. His mannerisms screamed that he was hiding something, though she couldn't fathom what sort of sinister plot he had in mind for getting the quarry drained. It was an innocuous enough request and she'd agreed to it after Preston had triple-checked for mirelurks. A quick pitstop on their way to Lynn Woods. Though she thought the people in Tenpines had said a group of people was camping in the quarry. Sully had been alone.
"You're the one that asked him if the minutemen could offer any assistance." she retorted. "Without being able to swim, I might add."
No, she hadn't much cared for Sully Mathis or the way he had unashamedly leered at her soaking wet vault suit as it was clinging to her body.
But it didn't matter. She'd talked him up to a hundred and twenty-five caps, which appeared to be a decent amount of money, if Preston's reaction was any indication.
Good old fashioned capitalism.
God bless America.
She'd left.
Despite the reassurances from Codsworth and Sturges that she was safe with Garvey, Nate was not happy.
He supposed it was his own fault for getting torn up but still. She'd gone east to Salem to look for minuteman reinforcements almost a week and a half ago. There were no radios or cellphones to be had. Maybe it would be possible to transmit a signal to her pipboy, but he'd have to have something capable of transmitting first. Nate groaned and tried to stretch out his torso, leaning against the wall of an alleyway.
After his initial return to consciousness he'd been distraught but quickly ruled out going after her. He'd have to trust Garvey to get her back safe or there'd be hell to pay. But the most important thing, the mission? That was retrieving Shaun and putting the people that had kidnapped him in the dirt. As Garvey's group had been uninterested in leaving the relative safety of the settlement, he'd chosen to scout out Lexington himself. See if he could get an accurate read on the Rev-heads capabilities and manpower.
Sturges had told him it was suicide going in alone in his condition. That it would be better to wait for Garvey to return or at least wait a couple days until the power armor they'd peeled Nate out of was serviceable again.
Maybe it would have been better to wait. He felt weakened. But it was up to him to do the dangerous work, stitches that needed to finish healing or no. And time was not something he could afford to waste. Every minute that passed was another minute his son was in danger.
So he'd stayed on the road, made it out of Concord and met a traveling saleswoman who had a two-headed cow, before defusing a tense situation at a diner by threatening to fill a chem dealer full of holes. None of them had any information on the Rev-heads, so he'd forged ahead.
Which was why he found himself watching a firefight from his hiding spot in the alleyway. Raiders wearing the same white face-paint as the ones in Concord were trying pin down a group of seven people.
Well, six people after one had stepped on a landmine and then bodily landed on a second. Hadn't been much left of the man after that. Another had taken a bad hit from an assault rifle and was being held up by two others.
Nate was close enough to see that they wore an insignia of a sword with wings and gears, one of them having it painted on his power armor. Though it wasn't a model that Nate recognized.
But he did recognize that it was a tactical retreat they were executing as they tried to extract their wounded man.
The way they moved, functioned as a team was military. And the raiders had been chasing them out of Lexington.
That was a good enough endorsement for Nate. Enemy of your enemy and all that.
He opened fire, tagging a raider in the neck as he stepped out of his hiding place and closed the distance. The soldiers whipped around to look at him, some raising their weapons.
"I got your back," he yelled as he kept firing. "Get your guy out, I'll cover the flank."
He hoped he wasn't making a mistake.
"That was some fine shooting back there, civilian." the man in charge said gratefully, shaking Nate's hand. "I am Paladin Danse. This is Recon Squad Gladius," he continued, gesturing at the soldiers encamped around the old police station in Cambridge. "That's Knight-Sergeant Dawes on watch. Knight's Rhys and Keane," he said, inclining his head to soldiers flanking him. "And finally Scribe Haylen and Knight Worwick." The young woman nodded up at him but kept her focus on the unconscious man on the stretcher whose wounds she was tending to.
"We represent the Brotherhood of Steel. Our ultimate goal is to liberate the commonwealth from the scourge of synths, feral ghouls and super mutants. The abominations of humanities making. Our twisted reflections."
Ferals he knew. But what the hell were mutants and synths?
"You've had training." Danse stated.
Nate nodded, wondering how large this organization was.
"I'm with the minutemen." It was true enough.
"Danse stroked his chin in thought.
"We've met a few members of the minutemen before. None of them were on par with you. Where are you from, a local settlement?" The paladin's eyes drifted along the vault suit curiously.
Nate shrugged.
"I'm from vault 111."
"I appreciate your honesty. Most people wouldn't be so forth-coming about that."
"Why, is it bad to be from a vault?" Nate asked, raising an eyebrow.
"No, not at all."
Nate received the distinct impression that he was missing some piece of information, but he forged ahead.
"Capital wasteland? Different from the commonwealth, I imagine?"
Danse straightened up, puffing his chest out a little, an action that gave Nate the feeling that he was very proud of his home.
"It was hit by the largest bombardment in the former united states, perhaps even the world. The countryside is almost devoid of life. No flora; I'd never seen grass that wasn't a sickly yellow before traveling to the Commonwealth. Nor trees that weren't dead husks. It doesn't rain in the capital wasteland. Something in the air. But its the safest region on the east coast. It took around two decades but the super mutant menace was eradicated. Ferals and deathclaws followed, though we lost many brothers and sisters in the process. The mirelurks died out or moved away after we purified the water. We exterminated the rest of the large nests we could find and utterly crushed Talon Company. Most of the raider gangs fled. I expect some of them may have come here over the years." The paladin paused, looking at Nate thoughtfully. "Speaking of coming here, what was your purpose in Lexington?"
"Scouting the factory, actually." Nate replied. "They've been terrorizing the surrounding area."
So they'd purified the water in pennsylvania. Sounded like there was a story behind that. Nate held his tongue though, letting the man speak.
Danse shook his head ruefully.
"Can't walk more than a hundred feet without something lurking in the shadows. There's so much more wildlife as well. All these flying insects. The yao guai are more dangerous. More variations of mirelurk." He tore off a chunk of jerky with his teeth and chewed thoughtfully. "It's a wonder scavvers can make a living at all." Danse's description of the Commonwealth was cause to be concerned for Nora's safety, but Nate pushed those thoughts away.
"Tell me about this vault 111," Danse continued. "Is it still operational?"
"No, there was a catastrophic failure. Only a few of us made it out."
Danse nodded knowingly.
"To be expected. There are few that are intact. Vault-tec degenerates. There's always records of some kind of sick experiment or another.
"Really?" Nate asked with a hint of morbid curiosity.
"There were a few vaults in the capital wasteland that we scavenged tech from. We found cloning labs, vats of FEV, drugs in the air filters. To my knowledge the only functioning vault in the Capital Wasteland remained so because it was a control vault. I assume yours was the same?"
It was a lot to process. He felt like a moron for having believed any of Vault-tec's commercials. Nate sighed, deciding to tell them the truth right off the bat.
"Vault 111's experiment was Cryostasis. They lied to us. Froze us when the bombs fell and then left us on ice."
"Wait, you're not saying..." Danse began, raising an eyebrow.
"Yeah. I've been frozen for over two centuries. A walking pre-war relic." Nate saluted lopsidedly. "You're looking at the last active member of the United States Military."
Those words triggered a reaction Nate had not been expecting, as two of the men went for their guns, bringing them up to bear. Nate raised his hands slowly.
"Sounds like something an Enclave spy would dream up," Rhys snarled. "Those fucks have a real hard on for old world institutions."
"Stand down, knights!" Danse barked. They complied, but they didn't look particularly happy about it. Nate relaxed, but only slightly. Danse turned back to him.
"You do realize that's a fantastical claim, mister jones?"
"You can call me Nate."
"Nate then. Can you back up this assertion at all?"
So he told them. The cliff notes version about the Great Panic and the breakdown of society. About the battle for anchorage. About Vault-tec. The bombs falling. Waking up in the Commonwealth. Concord. He even showed them his dogtags.
"Bullshit," Rhys spat, shaking his head. "This whole story sounds fake, wouldn't you say, Keane?" The other man just shrugged.
"I don't know," Haylen said thoughtfully, setting her tools aside and washing Worwick's blood off her hands with water from a canteen. "It sounds like he was really there. Cryostasis isn't completely out of the realm of possibilities."
"Oh yeah?" Rhys sneered. "Well what if he's an Enclave spy eh? Bet they've got all sorts of pre-war records."
"Doubtful," The Paladin cut in. "But Rhys does make a point. If we could investigate the veracity of these claims—it would be a great find in continuing our mission. And while, we are grateful for your assistance, there are few organizations in this region that could have trained you to the degree of competence you displayed. You understand why we might be wary?"
Nate kept his face neutral. He didn't know what the Enclave was but it sounded like there was a history between them and the Brotherhood.
"If you need to verify my story, you're welcome to. The vault's an icy tomb. Only five of us left. If your people can get any use out of it, I'm willing to make a trade."
The looks that were passed between the soldiers were not lost on Nate. The unspoken camaraderie was familiar. Comforting in a way.
"There's not much that I'm authorized to give when it comes to dealing with natives." Danse said after a moment.
Nate shook his head.
"I don't want money or supplies, I just want your help. A few of the settlements in the area are gearing up to assault the raiders in the Corvega plant you guys just escaped from. They've been kidnapping people. Mainly children and young adults. They took my son too. He's less than a year old. If we worked together..."
"The degeneracy of raiders and their ilk knows no bounds. You have my sympathy." To his credit, the paladin actually looked sorrowful, something that was very much at odds with his crisp professional attitude.
"Anyway," Nate continued, nodding in the direction of the man on the stretcher. "We've got a professor with some medical training back in Sanctuary Hills. Patched me up after the deathclaw attack. A decent if dwindling amount of meds as well. Might be able to help your guy there."
"Yeah, that was the other thing that bothered me. You survived a deathclaw attack?" Rhys said incredulously. "You're full of shit."
Nate decided to let that slide for the moment. In their position he supposed he'd find him untrustworthy too.
"Stow it, knight." The paladin barked before turning to Scribe Haylen.
"How long will Worwick last under sedation?"
"A day, maybe two?" she responded, nervously wringing her hands together. "I got all the bullets out but he's in really bad shape, Sir. He needs surgery."
Nate watched as the paladin mulled over the offer. It didn't take long. Of that, Nate was glad. With real soldiers like the Brotherhood of Steel, they'd have a decent shot at rescuing Shaun from Jared's clutches. If he was there. While it was a difficult thought to entertain it was a glaring possibly. But if the Rev-heads hadn't taken him, then who else would have?
"If they can help Worwick that's something we can't afford to turn down. Grab what gear you can. I'm not splitting the squad up, so we'll have to leave the police station for now and hope for the best. We'll stick to the main road outside the ruins and hope we don't attract their attention." He turned to face Nate as Keane and Rhys picked up the stretcher. Sergeant Dawes took up the flank with the scribe.
"Once again, your assistance is appreciated, civilian," Danse said with a curt nod. "After we get to your settlement, we can investigate the vault and discuss a potential joint operation as it seems we have similar goals for the factory. Ad victoriam! Move out!"
Why are there so many goddamn raiders in the fucking Commonwealth?
Lynn Woods was bigger than Tenpines, Preston hadn't been wrong about that. It was also more dangerous. Or maybe it just her. Maybe the universe had decided that her family was its newest cosmic plaything and had made her a magnet for trouble. How else could she explain it?
One minute a trader had been trying to sell her a pair of dirty lawn flamingos and the next a group of raiders had strolled into town, yelling that people hadn't paid their protection money to Lefty and opening fire indiscriminately before anyone could answer.
And then a deathclaw had shown up. Because of course it had. Not as large as the first one she'd seen but still just as deadly. The town square was already painted with blood with viscera.
Preston and her had gotten separated in the fracas and there were too many screaming people and gunshots for her to keep track of his wherabouts. She hope she wasn't dead, because without his guidance she was pretty sure she'd never make it back to Sanctuary Hills.
"The tower!" someone screamed. "Sound the alarm at the top, we've got t-"
They were cut off with a gurgle as the deathclaw pounced on them.
Fucking hell, Nora thought as she slammed the door behind her and drew the deadbolt in a panic. Thank God Dogmeat had stayed by her side; she'd only had him for a week or so but if anything happened to him she'd kill everyone in the vicinity and then herself.
Weren't those Deathclaws supposed to be rare? That was what Preston had made it sound like.
Never seen one this far north before. A fluke. Don't you worry, we won't see another one of those monsters for a long time.
She took the stairs two at a time with her dog, hoping and praying that the door would hold. Then she wondered what good an alarm would be if there were already raiders and a deathclaw in town. But what she found was an air raid siren. It was well worn but functional as far as she could tell. It would be heard for miles. She could only hope that whoever heard it would come to help. That was why that person had wanted to sound it right?
A quick lever pull later and her ears were graced by a sound she hadn't heard since the run to the vault. It sent her into a panic and some small part of her wished she had some mentats. She hadn't touched them since her senior year of highschool but lord have mercy she needed a boost to think clearly.
The beast below proceeded to tear an unfortunate man apart rather close to the base of the tower and Nora felt her heart lurch. It would be too big to fit inside the tower wouldn't it?
Nora cranked the laser musket and pointed it over the edge at the deathclaw, aiming down the sight as the pipboy's overlay appeared to give her hit percentages. Killing the one in Concord had taken her husband nearly killing himself causing a miniature nuclear explosion with a car. Why hadn't she stayed with him? Thus far no one had had any information about the Rev-heads that she didn't already know.
But seeing as how she had no car, no power armor and no husband she was at a loss as to what she could use to take the beast down. There were no explosives. A proper rifle with a proper scope might have evened the odds somewhat, but small arms fire hadn't fazed the deathclaw in Concord.
She fired anyway and though she struck its head, it reacted like it had just been stung by a bee, shrugging off the shot and staring up at her with a catlike curiosity before letting out a fearsome roar and slamming its frame against the door of the tower, the corpse on the ground forgotten.
"Fuck!" she swore, cranking the musket again. She missed her office, she missed the supermarket, her family, espresso and indoor plumbing. Think, she told herself as sweat poured down her face. It was hard to do with the air raid siren blaring next to her ears, but she tried to focus on her surroundings anyway. There was nothing at the top of the tower other than a small table and some cigarette stubs.
Super helpful. Nora wanted to cry. Dogmeat nosed her leg and growled low in his throat.
She could practically hear her father blaming the current situation on godless communists and telling her to get her rear in gear. She remembered a favorite saying of his as well.
Anything could hammer a nail into place if you hit it enough times.
"Help me out here Pops," she murmured tearfully as she lined up another shot.