Chapter One: In your absence…

Mothership Zeta, Bridge

January 12th, 2283

Many years ago, Peter had learned about his mother's favorite passage from the Bible, Revelation 21:6. It read; "I am Alpha and Omega, the Beginning and the End. I will give unto him that is athirst of the fountain of the water of life freely."

Six years ago, he'd tried to fulfill his mother's dream of bringing clean water to the Capital Wasteland. Venturing into a chamber of radiation he was sure would kill him, he'd activated a massive water purifier at the Jefferson Memorial, decontaminating all of the water in the Potomac River Basin. That basin, as large as it was, wasn't even a drop in the bucket that was the Atlantic Ocean.

It was funny then, how quaint that vast ocean appeared from space. Through the front viewport of Mothership Zeta's Bridge, Peter watched the Earth slowly rotate. All across it, the scars of nuclear war were visible for anyone in orbit to see. No longer was the planet clear, blue and lush green; now it was like some massive sickness had taken hold of everything. Green, dense clouds covered most of the surface, the oceans were gray, and on the odd occasions when the clouds parted, the soil was burned into a black desert of ash, except for the areas that were blanketed by snow. Even then, he was sure the swathes of white were more byproducts of fallout than anything else.

In the reflection of the ship's window, he could see his own face. Blue eyes, a short beard, and more than a few scars. Perhaps most strangely, he was clean; hygiene was a luxury that most wastelanders couldn't afford.

"Captain?"

He turned around to see Sally, his second in command. Five years ago, she'd helped him and a handful of other wastelanders seize control of Mothership Zeta, all while being a mere ten years old. Now, although she was still young, she was bright, adventurous, and overall, reminded Peter of what he'd been like when he'd first left Vault 101.

But that time had long since passed.

"Yes, Sally?" He turned to regard her. His voice was more gravelly than it used to be, a consequence of age, radiation, and chems used to treat his many wounds. "Is something wrong?"

She stamped her foot indignantly as she got a better look at him. "You're not wearing your uniform!"

He let out a sigh of relief, for a moment, he'd been worried that something more serious had happened. Perhaps one of the Alien workers had finally gone rogue, or another UFO had shown up, but no, Sally just wanted to know why he wasn't wearing his uniform.

In all fairness, it was a very nice uniform, and she had gone through the trouble of making them for the whole crew. Apparently, they were based on the outfits in some old sci-fi television show. As such, he could see why she was insulted by him momentarily forgoing it.

"It's in the wash." Peter explained. "Do you expect me to wear it every day? Come on Sally, we're some of the only humans in existence with the luxury of a functional washing machine, don't take that for granted!"

"I… hrmph!" Sally pouted, and he couldn't help but chuckle. Yes, she was bright, but she was also a teenager, and she lived up to a few of the stereotypes.

At least she's better than I was at that age… Peter thought. Most of his memories from that time were foggy at best, thanks to an unwanted brain surgery during his stay at Point Lookout. Nevertheless, he did remember getting into a lot of fights with Butch, so at least the important stuff was still there.

"Oh well, you should probably wear your armor anyway, since you're going back down to the surface and all." Sally conceded. "And since you're going down there…"

"No." He immediately answered. He already knew what was coming, and he braced himself for the inevitable continuation of his least favorite argument.

Sally pouted again. "Oh, come on! You didn't even let me finish asking!"

"That's because I've made up my mind, you're not going down to the Capital Wasteland, that's final." Peter bluntly stated. "You'd get kidnapped, or eaten, or worse! You're just not ready."

"You were a teenager when you went into the Wasteland!" Sally protested.

Peter rolled his eyes, he had too much to do today to spend it window watching and arguing pointlessly. "First of all, I was nineteen, you're not. Second, even then, I got shot three times on my first day in the Wasteland! How well do you think you'd handle getting shot once?!"

"I guess I'll never know!" She threw her hands up in defeat and threw herself into the Captain's Chair with a groan of frustration. "I just want to see what it's like…"

Peter let his guard down just a little bit, feeling that damned sense of sympathy that had caused him to do all sorts of ill-advised things in the past. It wasn't like he enjoyed Sally being unhappy, he just knew what she didn't, what the Wasteland was really like. Life tended to chew happy, innocent people like her up, and then spit them out without a second thought.

She'll figure it out eventually, with or without you. Peter's inner conscious reminded him, and with a sigh of frustration, he turned back to her. "Alright, fine, listen up!"

As expected, she snapped to attention, as if sensing that she was about to get what she wanted. "Yes, Captain?"

"I'm going down to Canterbury Commons for supplies with Fawkes and Moira today, and you're not coming with us today, that's final." Peter told her, and she pouted again, but wisely remained silent to hear what he was going to say. "But…"

"But?" Sally energetically asked.

"...Tomorrow, Fawkes and I will take you down." He relented. "I already know we're going to need to take more than one trip to get everything we need…"

She wasn't listening, however, she was too busy exploding with joy. "Yes! Thank you, Captain, I promise I'll be careful, I'll-"

"Settle down." He told her. "Now, for today, I need you to man the bridge. You know what that means, right?"

She nodded, they'd gone over what she needed to do whenever she took command a million times. "Keep someone on the radar for more Aliens, don't shoot anything with the Death Ray, and make sure none of the Alien workers get into the restricted areas."

"Perfect." He gave her a pat on the shoulder. "Now, get on the Intercom and let Fawkes and Moira know that I'll be with them in just a minute."

Sally snapped to a salute and swiveled the Captain's chair around so that she was facing the command consoles. "Aye Aye Captain!"

Peter smiled and began the walk down to his Quarters. Around him, the ship's makeshift intercom system came to life. It was just one of the many modifications the new Human crew had made to Mothership Zeta, and it was one that got used on basically a daily basis.

"Security Chief Fawkes, Chief Technician Brown, Captain Peter will be down to meet you in the Armory momentarily!" Sally announced. "Oh, and Moira, thank you for the cookies, these are really good."

Mothership Zeta, Armory

Once Peter had gotten out of his casual outfit and into his reliable, if somewhat shellshocked Combat Armor, he made his way down to the Armory. There, he would find Moira and Fawkes, along with the Alien teleporter to the surface.

Within the ship's armory were a few of Peter's personal weapons, although most of them were still back at his house in Megaton. The only weapon that he casually carried around with him anymore was an Alien Blaster pistol that he'd repurposed from the previous Captain of Mothership Zeta. The rest of the crew also stashed their weapons here, along with whatever other bits of gear that Sally and the rest of the crew were able to find within the vast piles of treasure and garbage that the Aliens had looted from Earth over the years.

His two companions were already waiting for him when he arrived, Fawkes wearing his vastly oversized uniform and an Alien Drone cannon, whereas Moira was wearing his old armored Vault 101 jumpsuit and a holster with an N99 10mm Pistol, the former of which he'd donated to her after she'd accidentally torched her old mechanic's jumpsuit while working with some piece of Alien technology.

Both of them were two of his oldest friends. Moira was one of the smartest, sweetest people he knew, as well as a close confidant who had helped him stay alive when he'd first entered the Wasteland. Fawkes was more like his brother, a friend with whom Peter shared an unbreakable bond. Although Fawkes was a Super Mutant, he was gentle and intelligent, but unflinchingly strong in the face of evil.

"Ah, Peter, it is good to see you!" Fawkes said. Given his nature, talking was a bit more difficult for him, but he did a pretty admirable job regardless. "Now we go to the surface, away from these cramped hallways and cabins!"

"Oh, it'll be nice to stretch my legs again!" Moira cheerfully added. "Not that this spaceship isn't very nice, of course!"

"I didn't build it, Moira, I just helped steal it." Peter jokingly replied as he looked for one specific gun case. "I'm not going to be offended if you've got complaints."

While Moira awkwardly continued to backtrack on her statement, Peter found what he was looking for, and flipped the latches of the case open. Inside was a DKS-501 Sniper Rifle, meticulously maintained, with a custom scope and furnished rosewood stock. Inscribed on the receiver with a knife was a single word, which had been written there since before Peter had first discovered the weapon. "Victory."

He hefted the rifle and was comforted by its familiar weight. Despite its heft and considerable kick, it was as accurate as a Laser Rifle, and with the right ammunition, it was far more deadly.

He slung the Victory Rifle over his shoulder, prompting a question from Fawkes. "Do you expect we will need to fight?"

"I hope not." Peter indirectly answered. "The Brotherhood of Steel was trying to clear out the Raider Gangs when we were last here, which was… what, two years ago?"

"Two years, three months, twelve days!" Moira cheerfully recited as she slung a giant bag of bottle caps over her shoulder. They would, after all, need something to pay for all of their supplies with. "Alrighty, I'm ready to go! Shall we?"

"Yes, by all means, let's!" Fawkes concurred.

Peter took one look at the teleporter pad on the floor, and immediately felt his stomach cramp up in hesitation. Oh man, I am never going to get used to this…

He stepped forward onto the pad and pressed the button and momentarily the world swam around him. He saw every color of the rainbow flash before his eyes like a swirling drain of multicolored ink, and he could hear a sound, not unlike that of harsh wind blowing. And then, after blinking again, he was on the surface, standing next to a familiar alien beacon embedded in the cold ashen soil. There were a few tiny snowflakes on the ground, and the air was frigid, but it was far from a "Winter Wonderland" as some pre-war books might've described it.

After taking a moment to make sure that he wasn't about to throw up, and that there wasn't some raider sniper ready to pick his head off, he took a few steps forward. The teleporter in Mothership Zeta wouldn't allow Moira or Fawkes to come down unless there was room around the beacon for them to appear, a feature that the aliens had presumably installed as to avoid any centaur-esque abominations from being unintentionally created.

While Peter sat down on the dirt and caught his breath, a blinding beam of light appeared beside him as Fawkes came down to Earth, followed briefly by Moira. Neither of them seemed to be experiencing any of the dizziness and nausea that he was feeling, as usual.

"Aww, are we feeling a little bit teleporter sick?" Moira asked in a tone that would've seemed condescending to anyone who didn't know that she just talked like that. "You know, I think Elliot can probably surgically reinforce your ear canal-"

"No, thank you." Peter stopped Moira in her tracks. As much as he trusted the Pre-War Army Medic with a cryogenically frozen patient, he was very sensitive about his brain.

"We should not remain here." Fawkes stated. "The sound of our arrival may attract the curious, and they may not be friendly."

Peter let out a long breath and stood back up. "You're right, let me just make sure we don't get any unwanted visitors while we're gone…"

He walked over to the Alien teleporter beacon and pulled a small, glowing blue rod out of the base, before slotting it into one of his pockets. He wasn't quite sure what the mysterious component did, but he did know that the alien beacon wouldn't function without it, meaning that Sally and the rest of Mothership Zeta's crew didn't have to worry about some adventurous scavenger getting beamed up to the Armory to cause trouble.

Once the beacon was inoperable, Peter pulled up the map on his wrist-mounted computer, the ever reliable Pip-Boy 3000. He squared himself to ensure its accuracy and pointed in the direction of Canterbury Commons. "That-a-way everybody. Come on, let's get there before the rain starts falling, shall we?"

"I have no desire to be any damper than I already am." Fawkes voiced his affirmation.

"Yeah, it'll be nice to visit my old caravan friends!" Moira cheerfully added.

The three of them set out, marching through the cold breeze and the thin layer of snow on the ground.

Outskirts of Canterbury Commons

The small settlement of Canterbury Commons was well-renowned across the Capital Wasteland as one of its more successful towns. It had a booming economy, to the extent that it served as the staging area for most of the wandering traders in the area. It was also located on top of a hill, offering a natural defense against any wild predators or would-be raiders.

But by the time that Peter, Fawkes, and Moira Brown arrived, there was nothing left of Canterbury Commons but ash and shadows.

The old, pre-war buildings that had once stood in Canterbury Commons were nothing but rubble, forming a disturbingly flat, desolate patch of land at the top of the hill. Just outside of what had previously been Porter's Cafe was a pile of burned skeletons, far beyond being recognizable. There was no smoke, and everything was cold. Whatever force had scoured Canterbury Commons, it had done so quite some time ago.

"What… happened here?" Moira nervously asked.

"A battle, nothing less. These people did not die quietly." Fawkes answered her. It was hard for him to truly be expressive, but Peter could tell he was just as disturbed as Moira was.

Peter, for his part, felt overwhelmingly exhausted. He'd been witness to atrocity before, in the Pitt, during the effort to capture Mothership Zeta, and all over the Capital Wasteland. But that never made it any easier to see something terrible happen. It wasn't just the wanton murder and destruction that weighed on him either, it was the scale, the thoroughness, whoever had done this had clearly intended to send a message.

It would take Pre-War Artillery to cause damage like this, or maybe airstrikes? But even the Enclave never resorted to outright bombing settlements… Peter wracked his mind, trying to figure out what might've happened, and who was responsible.

"Even a vindictive Raider gang could not have done this." Fawkes observed, clearly on the same train of thought that Peter was following. "They lack patience."

"Yeah…" Peter said, kneeling down to pick up the first clue he'd found so far, a spent energy cell. "Energy Weapons… but this can't have been the Enclave… maybe some new faction showed up while we were gone?"

"What about the Brotherhood of Steel?" Moira suggested. "Those guys have always creeped me out… I mean, no offense!"

"None taken." Peter grumbled. He was, technically, a Knight in the Brotherhood of Steel, something that Moira had obviously forgotten for a moment. "But it couldn't have been Brotherhood. Even the Outcasts were never this aggressive, I can't imagine anything driving them to… this."

"Well… if not them, then who?" Moira asked.

"Peter!"

All three of them turned to see a man in a mechanic's jumpsuit sprinting down the hill from the Robot Repair Center. Fawkes raised his weapon, but Peter waved his hand to signal him to stand down, he recognized the mechanic, even before he arrived before them, out of breath and covered in soot and snow.

"Good to see you alive, Scott." Peter said solemnly.

Scott Wolinski, the man who had formerly bore the identity of the Superhero "The Mechanist" raised a finger to indicate he needed an extra moment to breathe. Once he caught his breath, he looked up at Peter with tears welling up in his eyes. "Peter, it is so good to see you man! I- I-"

Scott fell to the ground, whimpering and sobbing. Moira and Fawkes stood back while Peter kneeled down to speak to him. "Easy Scott, I'm here for ya. What happened here? Who's responsible for all of this?"

Scott hyperventilated for a moment, but eventually took several deep breaths, and looked Peter in the eyes. "You mean… you don't know? Oh my God, Peter, where have you been?! Sarah's been looking for you! She needs-"

"Woah, woah, woah, slow down buddy." Peter said. "You said Sarah's looking for me? Like, Sarah Lyons?"

He nodded firmly, wiping the tears from his eyes with a spare cloth. "Yeah, her. She's been looking for you for weeks, ever since… ever since the Brotherhood…"

Scott took one more look at the ruins of the town and was clearly on the verge of bursting into tears again. Peter narrowed his eyes as he made the connections in his mind, it didn't take a genius to put two-and-two together, and even then, some in the Wasteland would've called him a genius. He locked eyes with Moira brown, and offered her another apologetic nod, before turning back to Scott.

"You'll do no good sitting in the snow out here, let's get you home." Peter said, helping Scott up to his feet.

The four of them headed further up the hill to the Robot Repair Center, and when Peter entered the lobby, the first thing that he noticed was how the whole place had been picked clean by looters. Scott had clearly been living in the lobby as well, indicating that the elevator to his old quarters was probably out of commission. Even a Raider gang wouldn't have been that thorough…

It took a minute to get Scott calmed down. He was clearly no longer the bold, downright fearless man that Peter had met all those years ago as the Mechanist. What had happened to Canterbury Commons had clearly taken its toll on him.

"From the top, Scott. What happened here?" Peter asked.

Scott took a deep breath in, before giving a clear, concise answer. "It was the Brotherhood of Steel, they did it. Their new leader, some bastard named Maxon, wanted the folks here in town to hand over their technology, mostly a few robots that I fixed up for them. You know Uncle Roe, he's- he was always too stubborn for his own good, so…"

Fawkes finished where Scott trailed off. "So, the Brotherhood of Steel was responsible for this battle?"

Scott coldly chuckled through the tears. "It's nice of you to call it a battle! They had Vertibirds and Power Armor! Uncle Roe and his folks… all they had were my robots and some old guns. Maybe, maybe if I hadn't fixed them up…"

Peter tensed up, there were a million and a half things going through his mind, but he'd be damned if he was going to sit here and listen to Scott berate himself. "Don't blame yourself for this. You didn't pull the trigger, it's not your fault."

Scott shakily nodded, but somehow, Peter got the sense he wasn't really listening. Instead, he changed the subject. There was a lot more that he needed to know, and thankfully, Scott had always had a knack for trying to be helpful. "Are there any other survivors?"

Sadly, Scott shook his head. "The only reason I'm still alive is that I was out of town, in Megaton. I ran back as soon as I heard the news but… but I was too late."

Peter nodded solemnly, this wasn't his first encounter with somebody who had survivor's guilt. "I'm sorry, Scott."

"Oh God, they killed everyone, Peter. Even Derek's down there… He was just a kid! He probably just wanted to see the Vertibirds… I couldn't stomach burying them, I'm sorry." Scott lamented.

Damnit! I never should've left without leaving a way for people to call for me, I could have stopped this… Peter thought, momentarily scrunching his eyes shut at the abhorrent news.

Peter did his best to stifle his own anguish, it wouldn't do Scott any good if they were both breaking down. "Don't worry, Scott. I'll see justice done here, I promise you that, but I need one more thing from you. You said that Sarah Lyons was looking for me?"

Scott's head picked up a little. "Yeah… yeah! Sarah Lyons! She's got her own group of people, she's fighting the Brotherhood and she said she needs your help! She's been asking around for weeks. I- I don't know where you'd find her though, she last visited almost a month ago…"

Peter flinched, unable to hide his reaction. If Sarah Lyons, and presumably her team, had been fighting against the Brotherhood of Steel for several weeks… the odds of her still being alive were minimal at best. But Scott didn't need to know that, the old mechanic had clearly suffered enough.

"Don't worry man, I'll find her, and I'll stop this from happening again." Peter promised, patting him on the shoulder for good measure. Scott didn't react to the gesture.

"Are you going to be okay on your own?" Moira asked.

Truth be told, Peter had almost forgotten she was there, and she looked like she was taking it all especially hard. He knew that most of her life had been fairly sheltered, hell, she'd even grown up in Canterbury Commons… she had to be feeling just as bad as he and Scott were. Fawkes didn't exactly look pleased either, but he seemed more vengeful than sad.

Scott sniffed and nodded. "Yeah, yeah I'll be okay. The Brotherhood took most of what I had here, but they left the food and water… I guess they just didn't need it."

Taking technology, just like the Outcasts… Peter thought. He hadn't made the connection when Scott had told him at first, but if what he said was true, Maxon's motives certainly sounded like he was taking an older approach to the Brotherhood's mission. I hope that he wasn't talking about Arthur Maxon, but then again, how would a kid have ended up in charge of the Brotherhood? What happened to Owyn? And if Sarah's still alive, she should've taken charge…

"Alright, we'll find her. Thank you, Scott." Peter said, before adding. "Stay safe."

"Yeah… you too, man." Scott replied.

As soon as the door was shut and Peter was fairly confident that Scott wouldn't be able to hear or see him, he cried out in anguish and kicked a rusted bit of old corvega so hard that he was sure he'd broken his foot. He ignored the swelling pain as he collapsed to his knees, but it was absolutely nothing compared to what he was feeling towards the Brotherhood. Betrayal, pain, anger, hatred, betrayal, sadness, anguish, betrayal, cold betrayal.

How the hell could the Brotherhood do this? After fighting off the Enclave?! The Supermutants?! What the hell happened?! His head was pounding, and his blood ran hot with fury. He was hyperventilating, and there were stars in his vision.

"Peter…" Moira gently approached him, putting a hand on his shoulder and kneeling beside him. "It's okay, Peter. It wasn't your fault."

He fought back tears as he looked down at the scoured town, where innocent, happy people had lived… and which his oldest allies, a Brotherhood of Heroes, had turned into a killing ground.

"Moira is right. You should not feel guilty for not being here." Fawkes added. "We need to defend the whole Earth, not just this town. We cannot be everywhere at once."

Peter tried to summon words in response, to say something, anything, but he just couldn't. His anger faded all at once, replaced with a bitter numbness as a cold realization came to him.

He was going to have to kill a lot of his old friends.

"We have to stop them." Peter forced out, steadily gaining his composure back as the throbbing pain in his foot began to subside. There were perks to being horribly mutated in all sorts of interesting ways beneath the skin. "Moira, take our caps and this Alien rod, get back to the ship and tell Sally she's not going to be able to come down here tomorrow… I need her to keep watch for more UFOs until Fawkes and I get back."

Moira nodded and took the alien device. Normally, he'd be hesitant about letting any of his friends travel the wasteland alone, but Moira was more than capable of handling herself, sheltered or not. "What about you and Fawkes?"

He steadily got to his feet, shaking his head clear and unslinging the Victory Rifle. "We're going to go find Sarah, we've got a score to settle."

Authors Notes: Those who follow me on Twitter will know I have some grievances with how the Brotherhood were handled in Fallout 4. With how certain characters (Sarah Lyons) were unceremoniously fridged and replaced with Elder "No really guys, I'm cool" Maxon. No offense to anyone who likes him, but his backstory is ridiculous, the writers could not be trying harder to make him seem cool if they came out and admitted it.

This story is my way to settle those grievances, and to offer myself a more satisfying conclusion to Fallout 3, and to a considerably lesser extent, New Vegas, but I won't get ahead of myself…

I've got this whole story planned out and a lot of big things in those plans, I hope you'll join me for the ride!