A/N: Welcome back readers! I don't know what it is about us authors that so enjoy leaving our readers on these awful cliff-hangars! Also, I want to apologize for the numerous grammatical mistakes in the last Chapter. I was hurrying to finish and didn't beta read myself before posting it, so I missed a great deal. I'll try to do better on this one. Enjoy!
Chapter 20: A Wonderful Guy – Tex Beneke
POV: Susan Bones
The morning sun shone particularly brightly this morning, and did its best to dispel the chill that swept in from the Atlantic. Fat clouds hung low in the sky and gave the promise of rain later, which meant that she would not have to call it down herself for their thirsty crops.
Susan hummed to herself as she walked along the razorgrain fields west of Vincentville, letting her fingertips graze the tops of the grain heavy stalks as she walked. She pulled her hand back and marveled at the lines of blood tracing her palm, bereft of pain despite how they criss-crossed the delicate skin of her hand.
"You should be more careful. They're called razorgrain for a reason." A strong voice chided her.
Susan smiled and closed her eyes, her skin tingling with anticipation as she anxiously awaited his strong, warm hand alighting gently along the back of her neck. The moment dragged on and hope was replaced by despair as the yearned for touch did not come.
She sighed and turned around, her eyes misting at the rapidly disappearing image of her Vincent as he left the fields.
She shook off the malaise and headed back to the settlement, forging a path through the stalks as she followed the same route he took a moment ago.
Susan returned the guards' greetings as she passed through the west facing gate and under the stern gaze of the automated defenses. She paused at the recently placed statue, imagining how the stoic countenance of the stony defender might more closely resemble her man. She wondered if Morgan would mind if she altered the statue a little, giving it more of a pompadour look.
She filed the thought away as she made her rounds, checking first on the brahmin milling about in their pens and ruffling the hair of the ten year old boy detailed to keep an eye on the small herd. Vincentville had grown into a respectably sized settlement since she took up residence here, with at least twenty families calling the community home. The original house was now hers alone, which suited her just fine. The others had built homes of their own within the curtain walls of the village's defensive perimeter.
"Everything alright?" She quietly asked, as she approached the lone sentry at the barracks. The low concrete building was all function and housed the armory and the bunks for the dozen Salem militia stationed here.
"All's quiet here ma'am. Night watch didn't report anything unusual either." He replied, knuckling his forehead in an informal salute.
She smiled and nodded before moving on, her curt behavior nothing new to the people that knew her history.
Walking south, she glanced left and right to the tidy row of cottages, each brightly lit and festooned with nautical livery. Those that didn't manage the Mr. Handy's who worked the fields, plied the fishermen's trade along the coast from the growing docks a short jaunt from the settlement.
She headed in that direction, dodging the occasional angry gull and nodding in greeting at the dockworkers. She strolled back north along the boardwalk, undoing the top buttons of her jumper as the cool morning gave way to a warmer mid-day. Her destination was the Makura fish packing plant, the site currently under the supervision of a surly harborman named Kurt Wagner, who had moved there from an island off the coast of what was once Maine. They were working to restore the facility to some semblance of working order, which would expand Salem's economic reach as they could begin trading canned seafood throughout the Commonwealth.
Satisfied that the work was going well, and that the crews there needed no special attention of one of her particular talents, she continued her informal patrol.
By later afternoon, she reached the northern-most dwelling in the Commonwealth, a large house belonging to the Nakano family. The small family had been openly welcoming to visitors from Vincentville, as overall they seemed happy at the stability offered with the presence of powerful and amiable neighbors.
Despite the goodwill, she sensed an unusual amount of distress coming from the humble beach home and as she focused her talents in that direction, was somewhat confused when only the two elder Nakano's seemed to be present… and that they were quite upset.
"Hello Nakano residence!" She called out, her voice coming out somewhat stilted due her lack of practice at speaking above a whisper.
A pregnant pause followed, until eventually her call was answered by a somewhat disheveled Kenji and Rei, whose distress was plain to the eye. Their eyes darted about as if looking for something, or someone.
"Ah, oh, well hello." Kenji greeted her, his hands wringing in dismay.
"What's wrong?" Susan asked, adding a minor compulsion charm to her words to nudge the Nakano's into being a little more forthcoming. She needn't have bothered.
"It's our daughter! She is missing! One of our boats is missing, someone must have kidnapped my little girl and stole my father's boat!"
"Is there any chance she simply left on the boat?" Susan asked quietly.
"No! She would not just leave without saying anything!" Kenji insisted.
"Alright, I'm sorry." Susan replied with a placating gesture.
"No, I am sorry." He made a visible effort to calm down, running a hand down his tired looking face. "We are just so worried for her. She is still so young! She is my little girl, we need to find her!"
Rei looked just as haggard as her husband, yet she managed to remain the more calm of the two and laid a placating hand on Kenji's arm.
"Kenji, please try to calm a little. We won't help things by panicking."
Kenji took a shuddering breath, "I'm sorry my love. If only Nick would respond! I would at least know that someone is able to look into this mystery!"
'You could do it.' A voice murmured in her ear, a subtle hint of whiskey and cigarette smoke tickling her senses.
"I can do it?" She questioned out loud.
"You?" Kenji pounced on the offer, "Yes! Your magic can find her! Please? I will give anything! Just find her and bring her home!"
'What did you just get me into?' Susan thought, careful to not reveal anything in her expression even as her mind whirled.
'You don't have anything better to do.' Vincent retorted, 'Might do us good to get out and get into the mess, ya dig?'
Susan sighed, 'Us? It's just me Vince. You aren't here. You can't be. Muggles don't have ghosts that stick around.'
'You sure about that?' Vincent replied slyly.
'I'm not sure about anything anymore.' She admitted.
The silence stretched out with Kenji and Rei looking on with hope writ on their faces. Susan sighed and shook her head slightly. Clearly she was as batty as a drunken Luna, listening to the advice given by a figment of her imagination of all things.
"I will find her." She said, breaking the silence with a tone of finality.
"Oh thank the heavens! Do whatever you must. Look through her things, perhaps there is a clue to be found. We did not find anything ourselves, but maybe a different set of eyes."
"The boat." Rei gently reminded.
"Oh yes! One of our boats is missing, maybe your magic can track it?" Kenji pleaded.
Susan did her best to investigate, a process made all the harder by a hovering Kenji and an ineffectual Rei. Finally, after several long minutes trying and failing to focus on some notes she had left, she took a somewhat drastic action and placed them both under a somnolence charm. She left them comfortably snoozing on the sofa and proceeded to check their daughter's room and the workshop where Kenji said she was often found.
Now that she was free from distraction, it didn't take her long to determine that Kasumi was struggling a little with her grandfather's death, having had much more in common with the aged patriarch than with her parents. She had received a message on the radio which seemed to convince her to leave her home and set out for a place called Far Harbor.
'See? I knew you had a knack for this sort of work.' Vincent congratulated, taking a puff from his ethereal smoke.
Susan closed her eyes, willing him to either be there in the flesh or to go away. At this point, she didn't know which she preferred.
She opened her eyes and found herself alone, and felt again that hollow space where her heart once beat. A wave of exhaustion came over her, and she plopped into a chair opposite the slumbering Nakanos.
"Hhhmmm… What? Did I fall asleep? I'm so sorry!" Kenji exclaimed, rubbing the sleep from his eyes as Rei stirred next to him.
"It's alright." Susan murmured, "I discovered where Kasumi went."
They both jolted upright as if they had been hit with a cattle prod.
"You did? Where did she go? Why? Who took her? She didn't say…" The frenzied barrage of questions was stalled when Susan raised her wand.
"She received a radio message and for some reason, she was convinced to travel to Far Harbor."
"Far Harbor? What could she possibly be doing there?!" Kenji exclaimed.
"Will you go and find her? Bring her back home?" Rei asked quietly, ignoring her husband's outburst.
"Yes, I suppose I will."
POV: Jonathan
Looking every inch the highest ranked individual in the Minutemen, Jonathan strode with purpose to his personal quarters/office in the Castle, though he had yet to spend a single night in what was considered quite the luxury accommodation in the Commonwealth.
The broken furniture that had reeked of mirelurk had been removed and a surprisingly intact oaken table had been found, polished to a high sheen and adorned with a bright blue runner, the Minuteman sigil stenciled with pride in its center. High backed wooden chairs had likewise been restored and set around the table, ten in total.
Some enterprising young Minuteman had gone to great lengths to make this room fit for his or her General and Jonathan made a mental note to ask Preston about it later, to thank the mysterious equerry for their service.
"Nice office, Jiang." A voice called out, the owner striding in the room and looking around at the adornments.
"Captain Zao, thank you for coming." Jonathan smiled, reaching out shake the man's hand, "How's the Yangtze?"
"Her great heart has come back to life, though she still bears the wounds of a life spent trapped in your Boston Harbor. I fear that she will not travel far in her condition."
"Is that why you've come? Need some able-bodied crew to get her back into shape?"
Captain Zao's eyes flashed with indignation, "None of your yeyu would I allow onboard my Yangtze." The ghoul closed his eyes and took a visible effort to relax, "My apologies. I already owe zhaiwu, debt to you. You gave my beloved ship back her heartbeat and put my crew to rest. When you refused my gratitude, you created a situation that no true son of China could bear. I have come now to repay my debt."
Jonathan began to protest, but the Captain was well familiar with Western platitudes, "It is a matter of honor. My honor and the honor of my crew."
Jonathan sighed and nodded, "Then it is I who must apologize, I did not mean to show you dishonor. I would be pleased to accept your help."
"Good. You are about to have a meeting with the other officers, no? I will sit and listen, then offer counsel."
Preston soon joined them, pausing for a moment at the sight of the ghoul Captain seated to Jonathan's left. The General introduced them just in time to do it again as the others joined them.
Hermione came in, her mere presence lighting up the room and the General's spirits. Roger Haverton and Abigail Young filling out the tiny council.
"Thank you everyone for coming. Though there is a glaring issue that needs to be addressed, there are a few things that I feel need to be seen to before we proceed."
Preston and the other Minutemen seemed confused at his statement, assuming that this meeting was to plan out their response to the Finch Farms incident.
Taking a moment to collect his thoughts, Jonathan stood up and paced the room slowly, only dimly aware of the others watching him.
"Factional infighting led to the fall of the Minutemen. Quincy was the strike that exposed the rot beneath the surface."
If the others were stunned by his prelude, they gave no sign. In fact, Preston nodded in agreement, his face ashen as he remembered the tragedy that befell the town and the long, hard road after.
"It's not an issue that we can fix on our own. We the Minutemen must be answerable to another authority. We serve the people. We must always serve the people."
The others sat up straighter, their ardor raising the blood as expressions hardened and eyes glistened with purpose.
"I cannot be that authority. So I've asked Mr. Harry Potter to step in. In the future I foresee a democracy taking shape, but for now, I believe Mr. Potter would serve us well as a Chancellor of sorts."
There were a couple of gasps and some turned to glance at Ms. Granger, as if questioning Salem's stance.
She nodded in affirmation, "I can't speak for Harry though I am sure he is giving the proposal serious thought. I can however, say that he, just as all of us at Salem, are committed to building a better Commonwealth."
Jonathan smiled at her, grateful for the support.
"I follow you General, I'd just like to know where the Minutemen fit into this vision of yours." Preston asked gently.
"The Minutemen will act as the defensive arm of the civilian government. We act to support and defend the people of the Commonwealth. We draw on volunteers as we always have, but we cannot continue to act without support. A civilian government will be able to fulfill that role, so that we can concentrate on the mission. Otherwise, the Minutemen as an organization will need to adapt and formalize. No more pipe guns in the hands of untrained people being thrown at the horrors of the wasteland. We will have an officer and non-commissioned officer corps. We will have training and standardized equipment."
The others looked to each other, small smiles and nods of encouragement exchanged as they displayed their agreement with and support of the General's initiatives.
"Second, you've all met Captain Zao. His presence has reminded me of a severe shortfall that the Minutemen currently operate under. We have no navy, no blue or white water presence at all. I want to change that. Captain Zao, I am placing you in command of the Minuteman Navy. Personnel will be identified that will need to be trained. Further, with the number of derelict ships all across our coast, there is no shortage of raw hulls that can be refurbished to suit our needs. The Navy of old was a power to be reckoned with and someday, it will be so again."
If Captain Zao was surprised at how his general offer of help was so quickly seized upon, he gave no indication, at least none that showed through his ghoul enhanced stoicism.
"I would be an Admiral then." Zao corrected.
"Indeed. In fact, we would be equal in rank under the civilian government." Jonathan agreed, "We will go into further detail at a later meeting. For now, onto other things."
Jonathan reached into a pocket and produced a pair of silver pins, which appeared to be tiny eagles, their wings outspread.
"Preston Garvey, for your steadfast commitment and unwavering valor in the face of impossible odds, I hereby promote you to the rank of Colonel and appoint you as second in command of the Minutemen. Stand and be recognized."
Despite his dark skin, his blush was easily discerned as he stumbled to his feet.
"I'm not sure I want this General." He murmured.
"That's precisely what I was thinking when you made me General." Jonathan quipped, grinning widely as he pinned the eagles to Preston's lapels.
Preston fell back into his seat as the others applauded, his sheepish grin bringing more than one good-natured chuckle.
"Roger Haverton. Abigail Young. Please rise."
The two Minutemen glanced to each other nervously as they stood, uncertainty written clearly on their faces.
"Roger, you kept faith with the Minutemen even when it seemed that you stood alone. Your loyalty to the common good is what we need more of to make the Commonwealth a better place for all who call it home. I hereby promote you to the rank of Captain." Jonathan reached into his pocket and produced captain bars, pinning them to his uniform and shaking his hand even as he eased the stunned man back into his seat.
"Abigail Young, you answered the call without hesitation and have shown that you exemplify the ideals that lie at the heart of the Minuteman. I likewise promote you to the rank of Captain."
She mumbled thanks and almost collapsed into her seat after Jonathan pinned her rank on and congratulated her with a handshake.
"Now that I've finally gotten some officers I can pawn work off onto;" He began to a mix of laughs, "We need to talk about Finch Farms."
"Sorry to break up your little pow-wow, but I got questions and you apparently have all the answers." A brusque voice called out from the hallway.
Jonathan cocked his eyebrow as the others surged to their feet and aimed their weapons at the uniformed woman standing in the doorway.
A grim faced older woman stepped in, a military cap precisely placed on her short-cut grey hair. Her fatigues were impeccable, as if somehow immune to the grime and dust of the wasteland. She carried a combat rifle easily in her wrinkled hands and scanned the room with a critical eye before fixing them on Jonathan.
"So you're the new General, eh? Don't look like much to me." She grumbled.
"Ronnie Shaw?" Preston gasped.
POV: The Institute
His teeth would be ground to dust at the end of this, he thought bitterly, as he watched the ephemeral girl skip about the lab. It had been mere hours since the girl was deposited unceremoniously in his custody, Father insisting that he look after her until the team could be assembled to study her 'gifts'. And in that scant time, she had infuriated him more than any other living being, even more than his long-missing mentor and leader, Dr. Zimmer.
"Oh, what does this one do?" Luna asked, prodding a blinking display.
The courser that had captured her now acted as her chaperone, glanced at Ayo, awaiting his bare nod before answering, "This monitor displays the current disposition of coursers in the Commonwealth."
"Oh." She murmured, already losing interest as she flitted to a Gen2, the synth busily mopping the floor.
"And what's your name?" She asked.
The synth paused its chore and fixed the woman in its yellow synthetic gaze, "This unit's designation is GS-27654-B. General Service model synthetic."
"Well it is remarkably clean here. You are doing wonderfully."
"Thank you?" The synth replied, its features mirroring its confused state, finally resolving the minor crisis by resuming its duties.
"Ms. Lovegood, do you know why you are here?" Justin Ayo asked tersely, his patience long having evaporated.
"I imagine I'm here to explain how magic works to you muggles." She breathed, her attention already waning.
"There is no such thing as magic!" Ayo growled.
"Oh. That's disappointing." Luna replied, nonchalant.
"Disappointing? That's all you have to say?"
"Disappointing that you ignore the evidence we've been gathering for the past several months, Justin." A new voice added, a distinguished looking older man striding in the lab.
"Father, surely you don't believe that 'magic' is the answer to what we've seen? We are men of science, there must be a rational explanation for all this!" Justin argued.
Luna seemed to snap from her seemingly omnipresent haze and fixed 'Father' in a steady gaze, "Father. Yes, I see it. You are connected to the soulless. A literal father in truth it seems." Her eyes travelled up and down his form, her expression calculating as she pursed her lips. "There is a darkness in you. A sickness."
If father was surprised at her announcement, he was no doubt shocked as she approached and pressed her nearly white locks against his chest, her whispered words vibrating against his sternum.
"Here it is, though it has tendrils throughout your body, its heart is here."
"Um, yes. I am dying." He confessed, somewhat non-plussed at her behavior.
"My friend Lilith may be able to do something about that. Maybe Neville. I'll check and be back."
"Back?" Ayo sputtered, suddenly seized by a choking fit as she seemed to fold in on herself and disappeared with a pop.
"What? How?" He asked weakly, once he recovered sufficiently.
"Still don't believe in magic, Justin?" Father asked snidely, the ghost of a grin appearing on his face.
"My personal beliefs aside, Shawn. It was a mistake bringing her here. Now those 'magicals' know where we are.
"Do you really think that we could have remained hidden long with their abilities? Even were that true, your own intelligence has shown that a massive conflict is brewing."
"Are you suggesting that we pick a side?" Ayo asked, incredulity painted clear across his features.
"I'm 'suggesting' that we need more information in order to interject where necessary so that a side is not forced on us."
"How would those knuckle draggers force anything? They cannot even rule themselves!"
"That's your problem, Justin. You've always been a 2 dimensional thinker." Father chided, "Regardless of which side wins, our work will be made all the harder with the shift in the Commonwealth. We must frame the narrative while the opportunity is present. Otherwise, circumstance will rule over us more than any wastelander army."
Ayo sighed heavily, "Yes, Director. I see your point. But that doesn't help our current predicament. The witch is gone and has, in that scattered brain of hers, information that could be used against us. Speaking of witches, where is that mother of yours?"
If Father was surprised that Justin was aware of his 'mother' and the circumstances surrounding her release, he gave no sign aside from a raised eyebrow.
"Interesting that you should ask that Ayo. You of all people should know that she has our dear Mr. Kellogg cornered… we may be seeing her sooner than we think."
POV: Hermione
She glanced from the old battleaxe to Jonathan, the sudden appearance of the brusque woman laying an uncomfortable blanket of silence on the meeting.
"Ronnie Shaw?" Preston breathed, an unmistakable tinge of awe coloring his words.
"In the flesh. I heard someone was calling himself General and had retaken the Castle. I had to see it for myself."
"Then let me introduce you, General…" Preston began.
"I can speak for myself." Ronnie cut in, slinging her rifle and marching right up to where Jonathan was standing.
"Hrm… certainly pretty enough. Strong looking too. You took back the Castle and convinced these young'uns that you got what it takes. Let's see how true that is."
Jonathan struggled to keep his face blank, a slight twitch the only indication that a wide grin was fighting to be set free. Hermione was under no such constraint, and chuckled openly at Ronnie's characterization of the General.
Ronnie shot Hermione a pleased smirk, winking at the amused young witch before turning back to the General with a glare.
"You want to prove yourself, I got just the thing. Follow me."
With a helpless glance to the others, Jonathan moved to follow, Hermione sliding out of her seat and walking by his side.
They walked toward one of the thick walls that surrounded the Castle, a massive steel mechanism still in place. Ronnie stood beneath it and stared at it, a thoughtful look on her face.
"Good. It's still intact." Gesturing to the metal plate, she went on to explain, "Behind this door is the armory. I was afraid that our uninvited guests would have pried it open at some point, but it appears that 'lurks weren't terribly interested in the contents."
"Just what are the contents?" Jonathan asked, glancing at Hermione as she reached out to clasp his hand.
Ronnie shielded her eyes with her hand and pointed upward with the other, directing their attention to a pile of rusted metal and splintered planks of wood protruding up from a shallow pit atop the wall.
"You can see the remains of an old gun, artillery that was used in the past to bring the wrath of the Minutemen down on the scum of the Commonwealth. We kept the plans and spare parts for them in the armory. If we can get in there, we can build new ones and go a long way to restoring the power of the Minutemen."
Jonathan looked meaningfully at both Hermione and Preston, the idea of restoring the Minutemen's firepower a tempting thought.
"Can you open it?" Jonathan asked.
"Not from out here." Ronnie admitted, "But there's another way in from the tunnels beneath the Castle.
"Hermione?"
Hermione looked carefully at the massive metal plate, her eyes tracing the mechanism and considering if her magic was the best choice for opening it. Somehow she doubted if a simple 'alohomora' would do the trick.
"I probably could, but it might be better to try the tunnels first. I don't know what would happen if I forced it."
Ronnie looked at the two with a confused expression, probably wondering how a slight young woman could hope to open the daunting metal barrier with what appeared to be a stick held in her hand.
"There's an entrance to the tunnels over this way." She directed, leading the way back within the Castle.
"Ah, well, there's that." She announced a few moments later, pausing at a collapsed portion of the tunnel, "There's a stairwell and a door somewhere beneath all that."
Hermione smirked, brandishing her wand with a flourish as Jonathan pulled Ronnie back from the tunnel. He grinned at the old soldier's confused expression, hushing her protest with a tap on his lips.
"Reparo." Hermione intoned, waving her wand which glowed with a gentle blue nimbus.
Ronnie's jaw dropped as she watched as the pile of bricks rolled, shifted and tumbled out from the passageway, some of them inserting themselves with a low grind back into the walls and ceiling of the tunnel. Others skidded past their feet and headed outside, Jonathan and Hermione both giggling at the surprised exclamations as people in the courtyard dodged the floating bricks.
In moments the tunnel was clear and cleaned, a stalwart iron bound oak door greeting them, looking as though it had been freshly installed.
Ronnie quirked her eyebrows once she had recovered, "Well, seems those tall tales I've been hearing aren't so tall after all."
Hermione grinned, her eyes twinkling as she bowed and gestured toward the corridor. Ronnie chuckled as she led the way to the tunnels beneath the castle.
POV: Nora
Nora felt the debris bite into her knees as she collapsed beside the remains of the man who had stolen her life. Kellogg was dead, and yet no measure of solace made its way into her heart at the righteous vengeance that had been wrought upon him. She gazed down at the ruin of merc and saw only the blood splash from her husband's chest as he resisted the kidnap of their son. She shut her eyes and heard only the cries of her child as they faded down the cold blue corridor, the whispered words, 'At least we have a back-up' reverberating through her skull.
"Hey kiddo, let's get out of here."
The gentle voice broke through her haze, brought her back to the present. A present that was devoid of meaning, even the darkness that seemed to poison her soul with its urges and whispers was momentarily and blessedly silent.
She accepted the cold metallic hand and allowed Nick to pull her to her feet. She nodded at him in thanks and turned to her surviving retinue, Emma from the Disciples and Trent from the Operators. Randall had fallen to Kellogg's incredibly quick draw, the loyal Pack member taking the bullet that was meant for her. She took a moment to ponder the act, wondering at the uncharacteristic altruism from the brutal raider.
"Tear the room apart, find anything that could be a clue."
"What about him?" Emma asked, gesturing toward the merc's cooling body with her serrated blade.
"Him too." Nora affirmed, turning away from the sadistic grin that morphed the Disciple's pretty face into a mask of horror.
"Nick, I need some air."
"I hear ya kid. Let's go." Nick gently agreed, placing a hand on her shoulder and leading her from the room.
They stepped gingerly over the shattered remains of the numerous synths they battled through to confront Kellogg, Nora stopping occasionally to claim a few baubles which caught her fancy. She would have her boys scour the fort and strip it of anything useful later. In fact, it may be a decent staging ground as she brought her personal vendetta against the Institute to the Commonwealth, knowing that her gangs would be eager to spread out now that the parks were firmly in their grasp.
She paused at the door leading outside, the faint reddish glow from the exit sign making her pale skin appear as if aglow with a light sheen of blood. She stared at her hands, dirty and scarred instruments of violence and murder where once they had been clean and stroked the soft skin of her baby or the rugged features of her husband.
She shook off her reverie and pressed past Nick in a frenzy, the sudden need to escape her burgeoning memories fueling her movements with an adrenal rush.
The cool air brushed against her cheeks and stole some of the heat rising in her cheeks. She drew in lungfuls of (relatively) clean air and let the strengthening wind caress her worn and tired body.
A distant thrum pressed against her much needed respite, annoying her with its buzzing irritation against her ears.
"Do you hear that?" She murmured.
"Hear it? I can SEE it!" Nick exclaimed.
She glanced at him and followed his line of sight to an incredible tableau.
A massive airship cut through the sky like a blade, a number of vertibirds bracketing the slowly advancing floating fortress as bright beams of light stabbed out from technological monstrosity.
"People of the Commonwealth. Do not interfere. Our intentions are peaceful. We are the Brotherhood of Steel."
POV: Hermione
"Well, you've proven yourself to my satisfaction, General. I'm willing to give you a chance." Ronnie announced after the successful artillery test. Jonathan smiled at the woman and returned her salute sharply, eliciting a grunt of approval from the strict soldier.
"Thank you, Major Shaw."
She cocked her head at the sudden promotion, but nodded in acceptance and moved off to get a crew together to begin building more of the old guns.
"She's larger than life isn't she?" Hermione noted, as they watched her bark at Minutemen moving too slowly for her taste.
"You can say that again." He murmured.
"Are you ready for this?" Hermione asked, turning his face to meet her eyes. She knew what he intended and his misgivings about committing to the course he was about to set out on.
He nodded grimly as he looked to the radio operator, as if steeling himself for the announcement he was about to make.
"I'm with you. All the way." Hermione promised.
He bent slightly, bringing her hands to his lips, lingering as he gently kissed each one and held them in his own as if drawing strength from the contact.
"Thank you." He whispered, not releasing her hand as he led the way to the radio station.
Sanctuary Hills
"Hey! Listen up! It's the General!" Jun shouted as he sat on his haunches and turned up the radio.
'Repeat, to all Minutemen, this is the General.'
Hangman's Alley
A cluster of Minutemen paused their work as they huddled around the radio.
'By now you may have heard of the dastardly attack on Finch farms. And that the Finch family, and over twenty others have lost their lives.'
Oberland Station
'We have since learned that this brutal assault was carried out by the remnants of the Forged, supported by Gunners and Rust Devils.'
Greygarden
The various Mr. Handy's all paused their tasks as Mrs. White broadcast the message throughout the site.
'My heart breaks at this loss. I had friends there, as I am sure many of you did as well. But now is not the time to grieve. Now is the time for justice.'
Mechanist's Lair
Isabelle flipped the switch on the assembly lines, the clangor dying down in time to make out the General's words coming over the radio.
'I speak to you now to issue a call to arms. We will not countenance this brutal aggression! We will no longer merely accept that this is what life is now! We will fight!'
The Slog
Wiseman banged on the radio as he fiddled with the knob, trying to increase the volume.
'I call on the willing and the able. Will you accept this lying down? Or will you join me and seek justice for the Finch's?'
County Crossing
Mable nodded grimly, glancing at Nixon who had stood up when she heard the General speaking and recognized the fire beginning to flare in the young woman's eyes.
Abernathy
Blake exchanged a nervous look with Connie even as Lucy clenched her fists and jaw in determination.
'Our friends deserve justice. And though the Minutemen creed has always been to defend at a moment's notice, we must also prepare to mete justice.'
Tenpines
A rumble of agreement rolled off the men and women listening, the air becoming charged with their rising anger.
Outpost Zimonja
The minutemen recruits pause their training as the Lead Drill Sergeant played the General's speech over the PA system, the echoes of his voice seeming to infect the young men and women with an energy that washed away their fatigue and poured fire through their veins.
Greentop
Old Nana and Pappy called out to everyone, bringing the radio out so that everyone could hear the General's words.
"To defend. This is our sacred duty. But when we fail to answer in time, then our duty is to avenge.'
Fort Hagen
Nora's pip-boy crackled with life and a voice she'd not thought to hear ever again issued from the speaker and drove a spike into her heart.
'If you wear the uniform and pledge to the colors or not. As long as your heart beats to the call for justice, then I ask you for your help, for your courage, for your commitment.'
Her face paled as she whispered, 'Nate'.
Revere Satellite Array
Danse stood quietly as he listened to the 'General's' speech from Harry's pip-boy.
'If you prick us, do we not bleed? If you tickle us, do we not laugh? If you poison us, do we not die? And if you wrong us, shall we not avenge?'
A/N: I'm going to go ahead and apologize for both the lateness of this update and the disjointed nature of this chapter. I am trying to pull together a number of threads as this story moves into end game and I am attempting to include more of a narrative for some of the characters. Just so you are aware now, Susan Bones is heading to Far Harbor but that journey will not be explored in this story. I am going to attempt to bring this story to a good conclusion in less than 8 chapters, so we will see how that goes!