Boston Commons, October 15, 2289, 9:32am
"You gotta be feeling really weird right about now." Sarah said while smiling and observing the crowd.
"Absolutely." Abby replied in a cold tone, betraying the uncharacteristically big smile decorating her face as she looks and waves at the crowd. "Definitely not used to power armor."
"You don't think maybe you're hamming it up a bit too much?"
"Morale's important. Maybe someone in the crowd is thinking I'm a bit of a sap but you know, greater good and all." Abby turns her head to Sarah's ear. "Plus, the Elder and the commander of the Lyons' Pride; gotta make a good first impression."
The parade had gone off to a fantastic start. Planning only started a day after Director Galeone met with the Brotherhood but thanks to proper scheduling and Institute efficiency, the event was ready in just under two weeks. Had this taken place two years earlier, the entire party would have been in a gunfight, but times had so drastically changed that people felt safe enough to storm the streets to catch a glimpse of the Institute and Minutemen leaders in their celebrity. That was now amplified by a juicy new development: A benevolent branch of the Brotherhood of Steel was now in the fold, and people oh so did want a closer look for themselves.
Adorning the sidewalks of Boston, the parade float, drawn by synthetic horses along the road was greeted by men, women, and children cheering and waving handkerchiefs, printed with either Institute or Minutemen colors. It was just like old times, ancient times.
The great flag of the NEA (the Bunker Hill flag but with the Institute Vitruvian Man on the upper right corner of the St. George's cross and the Minutemen 'bolt and rifle' behind it) was situated on all four corners of the float and flew proudly in the wind. It was a new design that was only implemented on this day, and Abby took a good look at it to get a feel for what it represented. Many people nowadays didn't even remember the old flag and what it stood for, it must have been Handy himself that commissioned the design. It sure matches his message.
She looked at Handy himself, whose suit was brighter and adorned in military decorations. All his pre-bomb medals had been replicated and were worn on his left breast, and epaulettes dangled tassels from his shoulders whilst glinting five stars along the straps. Simplistic, but still self-indulgent. Well played Director-General or whatever you call yourself.
Meanwhile, the Brotherhood all wore power armor; it was what the public remembered them for the most, and they wore it with pride, despite the terrible truths the Minutemen exposed about Maxson's chapter. When radios around the Commonwealth announced that a peace was brokered with a new Brotherhood that cared for the people, they went simply ecstatic; it was a good time to feel good.
"Look at them," Sarah remarked with a kind smile to Abby.
"They're all I can look at; one look at you and I burn my eyes."
The both of them laughed. Abby referred to the shining, gold-tinted T-51b Sarah wore, with the logo of Lyons' Pride fiercely gracing the chest in matte black; on a float with even the Directorate and Handy present, she shone the brightest, like a medieval knight returning from his victory.
This isn't so bad, Abby thought. For now. At least until the speeches come around. Ughhh... All this damn over-indulgent posturing for a crowd of people who don't know any better. And here I am, smiling and waving like some weird runway model showcasing haute couture in the 23rd century... Let's hope the NEA fosters the revival of the fashion industry. This post-apocalypse punk is kinda losing its charm.
Out of the corner of her eye, Abby somehow managed to spot a man, cloaked in a hooded jacket, looking vaguely like one of the old scribes on the Prydwen. He was visibly detached, or acting like he didn't care about what was going on, but he was in the front row. He glanced up at the party on the large float, and made eye contact with Abby by accident. Afterwards, he briskly made his way back and out of the crowd.
"Elder Lyons... that man..."
"There are a lot of men here," Sarah joked, looking in the opposite direction.
"He looks like an infiltrator, Sarah. Abby whispered. "I'm pretty sure I would know."
As the man tried to make himself scarce, Abby subtly nodded to a synth on guard duty, who identified the suspect and proceeded to pursue the man until both the synth and the suspect disappeared from view.
"I sure hope you're wrong... for once. " Sarah says.
"Same here." Abby replies. It wouldn't hurt to be mistaken once in a while . Pretty tiring when you're always right about the wrong things .
The parade finally made its way to the restored Boston Public Park, the site where people swore they witnessed Director Handy take out Swan, the infamous behemoth that inhabited the pond, which had since been cleaned out. At the center of the park was a fenced-off area with a stage in the center. Synths advised the public to clear a path for the Directorate to pass and clear one the people did. One by one, the Institute division heads dismounted the float and made their way to the stage, where they had seats waiting for them. The Brotherhood members were next, followed finally by The Director, surrounded by the Brig. General and colonels of The Minutemen.
Handy waved with enthusiasm nonstop, even as he took his place onstage at the podium, ready to speak.
"Thank you! Thank you!" The sun peeked out gently from the clouds and put a beam of light on the Director, giving him the look of a saint as the materials of his bright blue uniform glinted in the glow. As he spoke, his voice was broadcast to strategically placed synths around the park and down some of the roads leading out, serving as speakers to the people who were otherwise out of sight from the stage and giving his voice the echo of a god.
"Good afternoon ladies and gentlemen, citizens of the Commonwealth, Vitruvius City, and Solar City. It is a fine, fine day, and there is no other way I would rather spend it than being here with all of you, the people I swore to serve, and the people who make the NEA the greatest place in the wasteland!" The crowd continued their volcanic applause; when Boston rejoiced, it felt as though the Earth was quaking. Handy raised his hand in acknowledgement and opened his mouth to speak again, prompting the crowd to calm back down. "I will not detain you for very long, ladies and gentlemen, so I-" The crowd let out a collective "Aww" and Handy smiled through pursed lips, stifling a laugh. The crowd ramped up once again and Handy was driven to a small laugh, which drew cheers from the vast audience. "Thank you, thank you," the Director said, this time waiting for the crowd to die down. "Thank you. We have all worked tirelessly to make the New England Commonwealth a better place, and the reach we have secured, the net of security we have been able to extend, and the number of lives we have improved for the past year and a half has been nothing short of miraculous. The glory is with God, and my hands point to you, the people, the power of New England!" Another outburst from the crowd. Abby peered her head to see the podium a little better. There was nothing on it. He's really going from the heart, she thought in amazement. Handy continued. "With our alliance stretching north, through New Hampshire, Vermont, and Maine, and south into Connecticut and Rhode Island, we have restored the unity of New England Commonwealth. And that unity is maintained by the principle that we are all lovers of life. We are all friends! And on the note of friends..." The crowd cheered in excitement as Handy grinned. "Citizens of New England, I implore you to join me, the Directorate of the Institute, and officers of the Minutemen in welcoming to the NEA, our newest and dear friends: Elder Lyons and the Brotherhood of Gold!" Handy and the rest of the Directorate turned and applauded the power armor-clad representatives of the Brotherhood onstage, and the people followed suit with unexpected enthusiasm.
A moment of thunderous applause was given to the members of the Brotherhood, and it was a heartwarming moment, Sarah was even moved to a few tears.
Handy was the first to cease as he turned back to the microphone to speak. "This new partnership is proof that we can band together to fight for what's right again, proof that no boundary exists that cannot be braved in the name of the person beside us, for the good of all!" The applause continued and continued, and it nearly devolved into chaos when The Director delivered the final portion of his address: "So it is the intention of the Directorate and officers of the NEA to pay this friendship forward. We cannot stay here and revel comfortably knowing that there are yet those crushed under the heel of the heartless, who cannot even beg on the streets for fear that they will be viewed too weak to defend themselves!..So we will pay our blessings forward, and we will pay them south... south through New York, south through Pennsylvania, south through Maryland! We will restore the glimmer in the eyes of children, with growing confidence here, north, and in the Capital Wasteland!"
The crowd, once again, went into a state of applause. The combination of the Director's allure and the prospect of expansion leaving much to the citizens' imagination. At the mention of the Capital, Abby looked to Sarah. The latter shrugs and smirks as if to say I figured this was going to happen . Abby returns her gaze to the crowd, deep in thought. This can't possibly go well with everyone outside of Boston. I'm all for standing up for the little man but I highly doubt everyone's just gonna let the NEA in with open arms. The former ghost of the Commonwealth is now the group spearheading the mission for nationwide prosperity? Suuure. This new world hasn't taught humanity anything new, it just emphasized the value of fear; being wrong nowadays is the difference between life and death. Rather than wanting for genuine trust, it's safer to project fear onto the uncertain. If your assumption is correct, you keep your pride. If you're wrong, at least you'll never know what you're missing. Being comfortably alone is better than being uncertain in company. No one wants to be hurt; no one wants to be wrong.
"Godspeed New England!" Handy stretched out his arms and laughed as the crowd echoed him, a truly joyous laugh. It was heartwarming. And moreso...
It was terrifying.