The required training which was being taught by Knight Burns to the Paladins were some of the most sought after. He found her insight and methods were well above most other class sessions provided to the Chapter by the Scribes. Being a Knight and not a Scribe or a Paladin was also what was so intriguing, as the lessons she taught were filled with insight, well beyond her experience and even what her seniors had passed down to her when she was still a Squire. He listened intently on her class: Advanced Laser and Plasma Weapons Tactics and Maneuvering:
..."So, taking what we know of the trajectory following the invisible electromagnetic Line OF Sight from the weapons we can assume that the enemies Tesla armor is going to be, not only reflecting a percentage of our fire due to the electromagnetic shielding within the armor, but intensifying his own by recycling that energy. Taking into account other such factors of intensity; Weather conditions which weaken the signal or beam strength: cloudy weather, fog, sand storms, rad storms, electromagnetic interference, or all of the above." She stopped for a brief instance, noticing the Paladin Lord in the doorway. He stepped into the classroom and strode to the forefront of the class.
"Please continue Knight." He encouraged.
She drew a diagram on the blackboard.
"Such weapons will generate the source plasma using radio frequency or microwave energy, bleed off or extra energy being stored in the capacitors, not having to rely on using an external antenna to direct the beams as in the past with prototype weapons and old capacitors. This fact, combined with the absence of hollow cathodes (which are sensitive to all but noble gases), allows the possibility of using these with a variety of propellants, from argon to carbon dioxide air in the plasma chamber, allowing us different options as well as our research to continually find alternatives in an otherwise resource depleted world."
As she continued, Wolfe was called back outside by a Paladin colleague waving him over.
"Thought I'd find you here." Said the Paladin.
"Her classes are some of the best. I stop in whenever I can."
"She's one of the most promising prospects, no doubt about that. Can't believe she was one of the women being held in that facility."
"She's taken to the cause whole heartedly because of it, make no mistake. Revenge can be a strange thing to understand I suppose. What can I do for you today Paladin Abrams?"
"Well, talking about weapons, we seem to have a shortage on spare parts, as is always the case, I'm sure you're very aware."
"It's not the most surprising thing I've heard."
"Well our recent field reports have come up with a few anomalies we'd like to investigate."
Paladin Lord Wolfe checked the hallway before he stepped into an open office and waved the other Paladin inside, switching on the lights and locking the door behind them.
"This isn't about Big Mountain again is it?" He asked quietly as he could.
"I'm afraid it is."
"Listen." He sat down in a chair at an abandoned desk, resting his head in his hands while taking a deep breath. "We got bigger problems right now. I can't be bothered with all this talk about this mystical fucking dreamland place right now. You remember our last venture into a place like that, right?"
"Yeah, it was called Vault-0, and to my recollection we seemed to be doing pretty damn well off after it too!" Came a somewhat curt response.
"Don't give me that bullcrap again. Sure, we got lucky with Vault-0. But the way was hardly paved for us, if you remember. It was one tragic battle after another. And I dunno if you've ever seen the numbers on it, but I'd hardly call it a victory also. The threats we were facing, or more truthfully, holding off, are still out there. The Base in Archuleta Mesa was just the tip of the iceberg. Who else knows about this Big M.T. installation?" He looked up, his eyes red from fatigue, sweat building up in the creases of his forehead, just from the thought of all the past battles which got them here today.
"I dunno. Maybe a dozen or so Paladins, mostly from the original detachment form Alpha. Half as many Knights, mostly tipped off from having lost family in Dulce. But it's all the rage with the Scribes in Hangar 12. They wont shut the hell up about the damn possibilities. Maybe you should go an have a talk with them. They sure as hell wont listen to me. Hey, while we're on the subject of things which can't really be talked about, can you give me any information on what's going on with any of the recovered tech from Dulce? It's been some time."
Wolfe let out another exasperated sigh. He was clearly tired of having to always be so tight lipped about things, even though that was one of the main staples of his job position; to make sure things which aren't supposed to be talked about or shared, stays that way. Yet, over the years things like that seemed to have wore on his conscience, leaving him especially exhausted and fatigued. Maybe it was why he decided in that moment to do what he did.
"After the Cell Electrostatic Disruption Device went off and we went back to recover what we could, there was a treasure trove of things, in perfect operation. One of these things was some sort of Matter Transportation devices. We haven't really successfully decoded how to send or receive things or people to specific destinations yet, but they say we're closer to it every day. In fact they say they've picked up similar frequencies or bands in a few locations here in the U.S. and..." Wolfe cut himself off, looking up at at the Paladin in front of him, his jaw nearly on the floor at what his superior was explaining to him. It was clearly a bad decision. ..."We're looking into the signals position; and if you think of even uttering a single word about any of this." Wolfe pulled out his daily side arm; a massive revolver, pulled off the corpse of a Desert Ranger and cocked the hammer all the way back into firing position as the other Paladin, finding it hard to swallow, preemptively and shakily nodded his head in compliance. The Paladin Lord could get away with such threats, or at least having them believable enough to make such a threat in the first place. "...You can bet your ass I'll be watching you from here on out. Now go on." Once Abrams was out of sight, he cautiously de-cocked the hammer, slowly sliding it back into his holster, staring blankly at the abandoned office wall. Wolfe had a somewhat unscrupulous reputation, and it was something everyone was aware of. He hadn't maintained his position by letting people off or by not punishing those who needed to be punished. The extent of the things he did in his past are not something one brings up in conversation, yet the demeanor of his presence when in a crowd stuck out; undeniably one of mystery, if not a bit of terror. When stories were told of him, on the battlefield or the interrogations he was known for, they demanded to be respected. Even feared. Of course, he never believed that fear was any way to run a competent and well regulated militant order. It was the basic fact of life in the wasteland however that warrants the knowledge that terror is everywhere. Fear is not something one really conquers, but just learns to live with.
He retired to his quarters, sitting at his old oak desk, unlocking and opening the main drawer and extracting a file from within. He laid the contents of the file out in front on him, the pages fluttering slightly from the breeze of a nearby open window. The old drafts had survived all the way from Chicago with him, he began to think back of the journey that has started it all.