James could hear the crunch of asphalt behind his feet. He couldn't feel it. He clunked along the road in his "borrowed" suit of power armor. It was an old T-45 suit. Jones had acquired it in the weeks of James's absence. Jones was worried and stayed in Oberland the whole time, James was helping out with odd jobs around Sanctuary. He felt bad and offered to do a few jobs for free before they both made their way to Diamond City. But this was ridiculous. James thought back to when he last spoke to Jones.

"I'm doing what?"

"You're just retrieving a targeting computer for me. That's all I need."

"For a missile launcher?"

"Precisely?"

"No big deal. I can make one for you, just get me a few parts."

"No, I need this one. I got a contract that asks for a very specific one."

"Why?"

"Beats me. But the pay's good."

"How much."

"3000."

"3000?"

"Yup."

"For a targeting computer?"

"Yup."

"They knows its just a targeting computer right?"

"Yup."

"Alright. I'll do it. But I get a cut."

"No deal."

"Then you owe me."

"Whatever you want."

"Alright, where is it?"

"The Glowing Sea."

James clambered past an old truck crashed into a tree. A skeleton lay on the hood, as if it hadn't been disturbed in the past 200 years. James huffed as he tried to move his right leg. The armor lagged whenever he put any weight on it. He hoped it wouldn't hamper him in the future.

It was lonely on the road without a companion. Since James arrived in the Commonwealth, he never left Sanctuary alone. But now, he was alone. Similar to when he first encountered the Capital Wasteland all those years ago. What he'd give to have someone to talk to. He thought of Katherine. Sarah. Lucy. Amata. All the women he'd been with at one point or another. He sighed. This one's special. He thought.

James's Geiger counter began to tick slowly.

"Here it is." James muttered to himself. The Sea got its name from still glowing from the amount of radiation even after 200 years. He took a short glance at the new part of the wasteland he was about to enter. The armor would prevent him from most radiation damage. He began to walk again.

The Sea reminded James of the Capital. He thought of the last time he spoke to Elder Lyons. They were walking outside the Citadel.

"Why do you help all these people, Elder Lyons?" James asked. Elder Lyons looked at James funny.

"I'd expect you of all people to understand. Especially with your father."

"I know why my father did what he did." James conceded. "And now he's dead."

"Well, I'm not."

"I understand, Elder. But I don't understand."

"What is there not to?"

"I'm sorry?"

"We are all people, regardless of where we are born." They stopped short of the water. "Regardless of who we choose to be. We can be raiders, wastelanders, settlers, merchants. Yes, even ghouls. We are all people. And people ought to be treated well."

"But does that mean we should be giving them handouts?"

"What are handouts, James?"

"Us giving them our supplies."

"And what is really ours?"

"I don't follow, Elder." Elder Lyons carefully leaned forward and scooped some water into his palm.

"What is this, James?"

"It's water."

"And why is it special now? Important?"

"It's been purified."

"Who made sure that happened?"

"My father."

"But is it his?"

"No?"

"Exactly. Your father created his invention in order to be of benefit to all who live in the Capital Wasteland. That's why I believe we, as the Brotherhood, should not charge the wastelanders for what belongs to them."

"What about the medicine you gave that last group?"

"If you had paid attention, you would have noticed that the medicine I offered was of my own monthly ration. Not from our stockpiles. I choose to do this. I will not force others to do what I do."

"And why is that, Elder?"

"Because then we are no different from the Enclave. Your father showed me that, James. And since his passing, I've hoped to be able to ensure that you understand that. I've never known how to explain to you how important it was to your father that you know that your life is yours. You shouldn't live as if you are always under his shadow. You can be whoever you want to be. However morally ambiguous you may wish to be, though I may disagree, is your choice to make. And your father always believed in that. That's why I offered him help in the first place. He understood the one thing the Brotherhood has failed too in our long history of successes."

"And what's that, Elder?"

"You'll have to learn that on your own, James. I've already told you, but you don't quite understand what I mean."

James still thought about what Elder Lyons meant then. Was it right to be good or bad? Did he have to do one thing one way, or another the other way? James had a hard time understanding a lot of the things Elder Lyons tried to teach him before James left for the Pitt.

He'd reached it. The Red Rocket Truck Stop smack dab in the middle of the Glowing Sea. James holstered his hunting rifle and clambered ahead. He pulled slabs of concrete away from the door and pulverized the ones too heavy from him to move. He tried to pull the door open but it wouldn't budge. He pried his metal fingers into a small slit in the door and pulled them apart. The door crumbled under the strain of the power armor's strength. The armor begin to beep indicating that the fusion core was running low. Better get inside. James thought to himself. James stepped inside and walked in. He noticed the place seemed to have been disturbed recently. There was blood on the floor and bits of powder all over the place. James drew his hunting rifle and continued to explore the gas station. He entered the station and dropped his gun.

Before him stood a full suit of black Enclave Stormtrooper armor. James was surprised to find the suit so far north and even more surprised to find a full suit. He stepped forward. He loved the suits and always regretted losing his capture one at the Citadel. He'd let the Brotherhood take it for study, but it was destroyed in the destruction of the Citadel a few months ago. James didn't think twice about exiting his suit of power armor. He climbed out and jumped to the ground, breathing in the stale air.

"Hold it." A voice grumbled as James felt a cold piece of metal pressed against his head. James cured himself for being careless. "Turn around." James held his hands up and turned slightly. He looked face to face with a man clad in Enclave uniform. The drab olive-green uniform and the crisp, black hat. No doubt about it, the man was an officer.

"Who are you and what are you doing here?"

"You know who I am."

"I'm afraid not." The man chambered a round into what was clearly a 9mm pistol.

"Where'd you get the gun?" James asked.

"Just got here from out West."

"West?"

"Yeah, received orders to be transferred here from Chicago."

"What's a Chicago?" James asked.

"It's a…" The man thought about it. "That's classified."

"You're pretty bad for an Enclave Officer."

"Yeah, well, things've been pretty rough since our communication got wrecked by the Brotherhood and some dude." Does he not know who I am?

"So what's the Enclave doing here?" And how is it still alive?

"That's classified."

"Well you can trust me. I'm team leader of Squad Sigma."

"Squad Sigma?! No Way."

"Way."

"What's the passcode?"

"Well, I've been operating under the table for a long time to hide from the Lone Wanderer. Y'know man who single-handedly wiped out our squad."

"Who?"

"Seriously? You've never heard of the Lone Wanderer?" the man shook his head. "Man, you've got a lot of catching up to do."

"What's the passcode?"

"I told you, I've been operating under the table for a while. I'm kinda out of the loop with Enclave protocol and whatnot." The man frowned.

"I don't know. You don't seem like Enclave Material."

"Hello? Under the table? Undercover? What part of that don't you understand?"

"Hmmm. I suppose." The man rubbed his chin.

"Well, then. Enclave Officer Marcus Morales reporting for duty, sir."

"Where's the rest of your squad?"

"I'm it, sir. Only one who made the expedition. Ever since the Brotherhood destroyed Addams, it's been Hell trying to reorganize. Luckily, Chicago got a transmission from Raven Rock a couple years pack. Supposed to meet someone from Squad Sigma here."

"Well, obviously that's me."

"Well that's great, sir. What's our mission?"

"You don't know?!" James asked the man incredulously. The man shook his head. "How the hell did you manage to become an officer?"

"My CO died."

"Oh. Sorry to hear that soldier. How old are you?"

"Nineteen, sir." Like me when I first encountered the Enclave.

"Well, our mission is to stay undercover and discover what qualities make individual settlements unite under a single flag to become a nation."

"That's stupid."

"What do you mean?"

"I mean. The Enclave already is a nation isn't it?"

"Well, we did get wrecked by the Lone Wanderer and are barely anything now."

"All due respect, sir. Stop saying that like it's something to be proud of."

"Why? I respect my enemies."

"But from what I hear, he's the one responsible for the genocide of humanity's last hope for redemption against the wasteland mutates." James held a finger out at Morales.

"First thing about undercover operations, Morales. Never say mutate ever again. They'll hate you for saying that."

"But that's what they are."

"Doesn't mean they like it."

"Whoa. Never thought about it like that."

"How did you survive this long?"

"I dunno. I kinda fainted cause I didn't have any rad protection and then I woke up here."

"How long ago was that?" Morales shrugged. James walked past the armor and discovered more blood. The trail led behind a closd door. James twisted it and discovered it was locked. He thought he heard growling sounds. Ghouls. James took a step back.

"Kid, get in that power armor."

"The Stormtrooper, sweet!"

"No. The other one. This baby's mine." James twisted the valve on the back of the armor and it mechanically opened up similar to older suits. But it was much smoother and without delay. James jumped in and the suit practically suealed itself to match his body perfectly. Rather than fitting like loose clothing that was the T-45, 51, and even the 60, the Enclave suit fit like a glove. Perfectly adapting itself to match its wearer. James took a deep breath and watched his visor switch between different light options. Suddenly eyeports went blue.

"Well it's certainly nice to see you again." A familiar voice filled the suit's helmet. Not this guy.

"President Eden, what an honor."