PART III: THE SENIOR INITIATE

1910, May 4, 2280, Citadel, B-Ring, Office B4

Knight Erik Linderman sat at his desk and stared at the two initiates standing before him at parade rest, trying to make sense at what had happened earlier that evening. One of them had a deep purple bruise on her cheek and scratches on her neck and face while the other was covered in the dried remnants of the evening's dinner. Both of them had their heads down, avoiding the eyes of their training commander. From what he gathered from the other initiates, they were arguing and then started throwing trays and punches. He had also gathered that their feud was a long-standing one. The outbreak in the mess hall was the accumulation of previous incidences.

He was baffled to say the very least with the whole situation. He couldn't believe it had happened but he was more confused about how he had managed to miss the warning signs. However, he had never expected it to end in a fight. Never in his time as a training officer had any of his initiates fought with one another.

As confused as he was, the only thing that burned inside of him red and hot was anger and embarrassment. He could hear it now. Word would spread across the Citadel like fire and all the Knights and Paladins would tell one another that Knight Linderman's initiates got into a fight. Not only that, but the Wastelander from Knight Linderman's division got into a fight… He was already loathing the reaction that would arise from that fact alone.

And he was under the impression that his division was more disciplined than that… Was it his fault? Should he have intervened sooner? Had he not enforced a strict sense of discipline with them? He worried most about the reprimand he would receive and the reprimand he would have to give. The little time he had to himself hadn't allowed him to refer to the Codex for the reprimand or consult anyone else about it.

But right then, he needed to do something, say something to the two initiates standing before him. There were a lot of things he could say but he decided he would try his best to keep it to a minimum and omit his emotions, despite how irritated he was about the situation.

"Do either of you understand what you both did?" Linderman began, as calm as he could, "Not only did you disrupt dinner, you caused chaos, and decided that the best way to solve an issue was to fight it out. You embarrassed myself to everyone in that mess hall. Most importantly, you embarrassed yourselves. I don't care what caused the tension or why you fought each other. What I care about is the fact you have disgraced everything the Brotherhood stands for! Discipline, integrity, and most importantly a sense of union. Fighting will destroy all of that… And here I thought I taught you both better than that…" He paused and heaved a sigh. The pair didn't speak, didn't move. They stood as still as statues taking the verbal beating.

"And I can't believe that I am having this discussion with the two of you. I haven't even begun to think of the reprimand that your behavior will constitute, but I can imagine it will not be pleasant. There is a very small tolerance for misconduct. Very small tolerance. And I don't know if I can trust that you two won't fight each other again.

"Since I haven't had the time to consult neither the Codex nor my Knight Captain, for the time being, Initiate Oster, you will be confined to Knight McDaniel's office and Initiate O'Brien, you will be confined to mine. You both will be suspended from participating in morning and afternoon training and given separate, supervised meals. Is that understood, Initiates?"

"Yes sir." Oster saluted accordingly.

But O'Brien was silent.

Linderman stood up abruptly, irritated by her lack of attention,"Initiate O'Brien, I said, is that understood?" he nearly shouted.

"Yes sir." O'Brien replied, quietly with no salute.

Linderman told O'Brien to remain where she was while he escorted Oster out of his office and to Knight McDaniels' office. Once he handed Oster off to McDaniels, he made haste to find his Knight Captain.

A hard lump formed in his throat and for the first time in a while, he was nervous to approach his superior. He hadn't ever had to consult his Knight Captain for anything behavior related before.

Linderman entered the lounge and as he did, Knight Captain Frank Hardy found him with his cold blue eyes. He was seated at a couch with a drink in his hand and he beckoned Linderman to come to him. He couldn't tell if he was calm and collected or livid inside.

Linderman stood before Captain Hardy, his heart in his throat. He saluted and greeted the Captain appropriately. The Captain offered Linderman a seat next to him and he took it.

"Captain Hardy, I-"

"I already heard, Knight. Word travels fast, you should know that. Especially when one of your trainees is a Wastelander," He bit, swirling the golden liquid in his glass before taking a sip. "I assume you've put them in lock-down?"

"Yes sir. I haven't looked at the Codex yet."

"You don't need to," the Captain's blue eyes were piercing. Linderman had always hated their icy gaze. It made him feel as if he were staring down the nose of a yao guai. They were bright yet intimidating. "use your own judgement."

"It's difficult to do so, sir."

"And why is that?" Linderman began to say something but the Captain cut him off abruptly. "Wait, don't tell me that this Wastelander was involved…"

"Unfortunately yes." Linderman replied as lightly as possible.

Captain Hardy expelled a long sigh before asking through gritted teeth. "The Wastelander and who?"

"Initiate Andreana Oster, sir."

"Of course, it had to be the Head Scribe's daughter… I guess it was about time that the Wastelander showed her true colors. They're unpredictable and unruly."

Linderman found offense to his remark and he snapped back, "It's my fault, Captain. I apparently haven't stressed the importance of obedience and discipline enough. What happened earlier is the result of that, improper training. It's my fault."

Captain Hardy downed the rest of his liquor and slammed the empty glass on the end table. He jabbed a large finger at the Knight, saying, "You do not take fault for this. You are the best training officer we have; there is no excuse for those Initiates to act like that. Taming a Wastelander is hard enough. I'm sure it's been more than you bargained for as a training officer. That girl is dangerous."

Linderman was shocked that his Knight-Captain was making so many quick assumptions. He had never met her and she wasn't dangerous. Stubborn maybe, but not dangerous "Sir, she wasn't the one who started the fight."

Captain Hardy's eyes burned through Linderman. "So you're telling me the Head Scribe's daughter started the fight… I don't believe you."

"She did, sir."

"Do you know that for fact?" Captain Hardy snapped. Disbelief and anger began to dawn on his face.

"Yes sir."

"You're only as strong as your weakest initiates with aggressive behavior are an immediate concern to the Brotherhood and I'm sure you understand why that is, Knight."

"I understand, Captain. But I still need some guidance."

"If you're asking what I think of the outcome of this situation, I would say expulsion." He said, point and blank.

"Sir?" Linderman couldn't believe that he had suggested that. Expulsion. It was easier said than done. It was a lengthy process and sometimes was often more trouble than what it was worth. But he had reserves about expulsion but it hadn't crossed his mind at all. He didn't want any of his initiates to be put through that. They had so much potential...

"You heard me. Suspend them, conduct a hearing and if expulsion is required then so be it. What they pulled today is something that we can't afford. See to it, Knight. You're dismissed."

2004, May 4, 2280, Citadel, B-Ring, Office B4

It was a long time before Knight Linderman came back to his office. It had allowed too much time for Lisette to be with her thoughts and an overwhelming urge to sob had taken over her. Her mind was replaying the memories that suddenly flooded her brain.

That man. That asshole had lured Lisette and her brother away from everyone, mugged them both, left Lisette to die and took her brother to God knows where.. Her stomach churned at the thought of her brother being dragged away by terrible people… by slavers. Her mind began to play out her worst fears. She imagined he was thin, deprived, starving, taken advantage of, and the very thought that someone could have done that to her brother made her stomach cramp. He was strong; he had been her backbone when things got rough and had offered her so much comfort when they first set out on their own after everything they had known as children was burned to the ground.

And now, Lisette feared she would be thrown back out into the Wasteland. She shouldn't have urged Oster on. She should have been the bigger person, ignored her and reported her actions rather than acting on impulse. She should have listened to Goodwin, to Van, to everyone… and now she more than likely destroyed her only chances of finding her brother and it was all her fault.

She would never be able to find him on her own… She wouldn't be able to survive on her own.

The door to Knight Linderman's office chimed and Lisette lost it. She buried her face into her hands and sobbed profusely. Her chest hurt and her stomach roiled.

"Initiate?" came Knight Linderman's voice from the doorway.

Lisette lifted her head to see Linderman standing, frozen in the doorway of his office with an expression she had never seen on his face before. It was a hybrid of concern and his usual stone cold face. His eyebrows were slightly furrowed and his mouth formed a firm line.

"I'm sorr… I'm sorry sir. I'm sorry." Lisette sobbed between gasps.

Linderman shut the door behind him but didn't move from the doorway.

"About what?" he asked.

"Crying. I'm sorr...sorry. I shouldn't be crying…"

"Initiate, crying... isn't going to help this situation," he started awkwardly.

Lisette wiped her eyes with her palms but turned her face away from him.

"I'm confused." Knight Linderman admitted, his arms hitting his thighs in exasperation. "You're sitting here crying after you got into a fight with another Initiate. Your behavior was inexcusable. And… and, I had so much confidence in you. Now I have no respect for you, even after how far you've come since you began training with me."

O'Brien snapped her head up to look at Linderman with a penetrating stare. She abruptly stood and bit back at him, "You shouldn't put me on a pedestal because I can guarantee you, I'll never meet your expectations.. I'm just a wastelander, remember?"

Knight Linderman stepped toward her threateningly and growled between gritted teeth. "Sit back down, Initiate."

Lisette ignored his command and continued instead, "You want to know why I'm crying? Because I know I've fucked up. I know what I did was stupid and I shouldn't have done it. I'm sure everyone's talking about how that Wastelander beat the shit out of another Initiate and that she's doing exactly what everyone expected. I know that I'm never going to find my brother and you all are going to throw me out of here because I never meant a single thing to anyone. But do you want to know something else? Before she threw that tray at me, it all came back. I remembered the guy that lured me and my brother into the middle of nowhere, beat the shit out of us, stole everything we had, left me for dead and took my brother with him. I remembered. He was taken away and here I am, listening to your bullshit about how you have no respect for me anymore. I'm not here to make you proud or anyone respect me. I'm here to find my brother because Paladin Connelly said she would. And that's it."

The expression that came over Knight Linderman's face was a mix between hurt, disbelief and absolute rage. He opened his mouth and his words came out, calm and cool, despite his clearly irate face. "Sit back down, Initiate. And I'm only going to ask one more time."

He moved behind his desk and took a seat and waited for her to do the same. Lisette didn't expect what she had said to come out at all but unfortunately, it was the truth. And she wasn't expecting Knight Linderman to be so calm either. But it looked like he was trying his hardest to keep his anger tucked away.

Lisette sat back down heavily.

He put his hands on his desk and sighed. "Under protocol, in order for someone to be expelled from the Brotherhood, they have to be done so by the Elder himself. And considering the Elder was one of the only people who approved of your entry here, I don't think your fear of being thrown out of here is valid. However, I understand you're distraught."

His words weren't comforting the slightest. "How could you?"

"I can't but I'm trying my best to sympathize with you."

"You're doing a terrible job."

"O'Brien, what else do you want me to say? I obviously can't treat you the same as the other Initiates. You're not from here so I understand why it might be difficult for you to conform to standards you never had before. However, you can't fight anyone without repercussions around here. You just can't. It doesn't work that way. Especially if it was over something petty as I gathered from the other initiates." Linderman explained cooly.

"Oh, what did they have to say?"

"I knew that there was something going on between you and Oster. I figured you didn't trip the other day." he admitted.

"Then why didn't you do anything?" Lisette snapped, "she's been at my throat for everything ever since I got here!"

"You're right. I'm at fault for not assessing the situation before it got out of hand, but I didn't expect that it would escalate as far as it did. I know Oster is a little off."

"A little is an understatement. She's crazy."

"When did all of this harassment by her start?"

"As soon as I met her and when I did, she wasn't pleasant to me so that set the tone that she was not very happy about me being here in the first place. And I tried to be friendly with her. I really did but she wasn't having it. I couldn't care if she liked me or not. She told me her and I weren't going to be friends and that was completely fine with me. But she continued to prod at me. Every chance she's got, she always shoved in her two cents about why she doesn't like me or why I'm a Wastelander or anything she possibly could. And you're right, I didn't trip the other day. She shoved me. And before her and I got into that fight, I was telling a story about an encounter with a deathclaw I had a few years back and she interrupted me by saying that you had killed one before and yadda-yadda. I don't really care if you did or not but I knew she was making that up so I called her out and she got mad at me and threw a tray at me."

"But she threw the tray after you told her you should punch her face in, right?" Linderman asked lightly.

"Yes."

Linderman expelled a tense breath. "I see. I think I understand what's going on now…"

"I take full responsibility for my actions. I did egg her on. But she attacked me first and I fought back because I was pissed. Plain and simple."

Knight Linderman only nodded in response before becoming deep in thought. There was a long silence between the two of them.

Then, Lisette asked, "Can I wash up and change out of these fatigues?"

"Yes, I'll get a female Knight to accompany you."

"I don't need help…" Lisette said.

"It's just a precaution. I'm following regulation. You're on lockdown at the moment. You can't be unsupervised anywhere."

"For how long?"

"Until we figure out your reprimand. There will be a hearing tomorrow."

0813, May 5, 2280, Citadel, B-Ring, Office B4

Elder Dimitri had heard the news yesterday and when he woke up the following morning, he was still shocked by it. He felt like a complete fool. Somewhere deep down he knew that something like this would happen. It was the reason he had reserves about taking in a Wastelander with no experience with structure or discipline.

He wasn't sure who to blame or who was at fault. Was it himself for authorizing it to begin with? Was it Star Paladin Connelly's for bringing her to the Citadel in the first place? Was it a fault of her training officer? He had heard from plenty of people; he heard all the gossip and chatter from the scribes during their breaks in the laboratory. They told each other that they knew that this would happen and that Wastelanders are just like that and they shouldn't be trusted.

He felt like a complete fool knowing that he had been the one who had approved of it and authorized the Wastelander's entrance… Elder Dimitri knew he needed to get to the bottom of it and deal the situation and try to find a solution that would please the masses. But first, there needed to be an immediate hearing. He needed the training officer, Knight Linderman and his Knight-Captain to be there as well as Star Paladin Connelly. However, Star Paladin Connelly had been gone for two days straight so he would have to proceed without her, unfortunately, unless she showed up before the hearing. He also would need his council to be there.

His council consisted of the two highest ranking individuals aside from himself: Head Scribe Tobias Oster and Sentinel David Worth. He was most worried about the Head Scribe, since his daughter was who participated in the fight in the mess hall. The Head Scribe was the main force against the Wastelander's approval in the Brotherhood in the first place and it had taken a great deal of convincing to do get the Head Scribe on board. Now, Elder Dimitri knew the Head Scribe would be livid. He was dreading the things he would say. Sentinel Worth was also vehemently against the Wastelander's approval, however, he was not as difficult to convince. Elder Dimitri knew that he would have an even harder time persuading his council to allow Initiate O'Brien to stay in the Brotherhood. He would be operating with much less luck this time.

He invited all who needed to attend and required that Knight Linderman bring a report of incident as well as all personal files of the initiates.

For most of the day, he thought deeply about what his options were. He knew that expulsion would be the popular decision and it was not out of the question. He would need very convincing information to come to a conclusion like that though.

Once the evening came, he dressed in his navy blue formal robes and made his way to the conference room. On the way there from the barracks, he came across Star Paladin Connelly in the lounge, puffing on a cigarette. He stopped dead in his tracks, met eye to eye with her and demanded, "Star Paladin Connelly, where have you been?"

Nonchalantly, she expelled a long breath of grey smoke from her lips. "I've been looking for the armor, Elder." she replied casually.

Elder Dimitri crossed his arms, not satisfied with her answer. "And do you have anything to report?"

"I do, however, I won't divulge that information in a public area. Perhaps whenever you're free, Elder." she tapped the embers of her cigarette in a nearby ashtray.

He couldn't help but feel quite irritated with her behavior. The armor's disappearance was a big deal and Star Paladin Connelly's actions didn't assure him that she felt it was also a big deal, despite his previous discussion with her. At the same time, he had to respect that it took time. The Wasteland was a nasty and twisted place. He didn't have any room to suspect her procrastination as anything malicious though but there was an inkling in his mind.

"After you're done with your smoke break, I would like you to join me and a few others in conference room C." he said.

"What for?"

"A disciplinary hearing…"

Star Paladin Connelly's face didn't change the slightest. In fact, she looked more put-out than she had before he had stated what he wanted her for. It was not unusual for him to request her presence at them as she was the fourth highest ranking individual in the entire Brotherhood. But, he decided he would add an important bit of information. "For Initiate O'Brien."

Then her face changed. She closed her eyes and mumbled something to herself.

"What was that, Paladin?" Elder Dimitri asked.

Star Paladin Connelly crammed the butt of her cigarette into the ashtray and stood up."I was just saying that I knew you hadn't gotten dressed up for no reason. I'll change into formals and I'll meet you there."

He nodded and continued on his way.

When Elder Dimitri entered the conference room, he found that the Head Scribe and Sentinel Worth were seated together, and speaking quietly to one another. Upon the Elder's arrival, he was welcomed harshly by the Head Scribe who looked as though he was waiting for him to arrive. He glared directly at the Elder as he walked in and hissed, "This is what I was afraid of, Elder…" The Head Scribe was dressed in dark crimson robes much like the pair the Elder wore. He was in his late forties, his once dark brown hair had begun to grey. The stress of his life was apparent in his forehead, which was magnified by his receding hairline. As the Elder expected, he was visibly angry. "This is exactly what I was afraid of… This is why I had reserves about allowing a Wastelander into our numbers."

The Elder sat at the head of the table and cleared his throat. As calmly as he could he said, bluntly, "We will discuss our opinions during the hearing, Head Scribe."

"Opinions? The facts, Elder."

Elder Dimitri exchanged glances at Sentinel Worth, who was dressed his black uniform with a golden rank on his bicep. His hair was shaved thin and he had a long, drawn face. He was only in his thirties but he looked much older than that. He shook his head at the Elder before he said in his very quiet, cool voice, "Adarius, this is why we were wary about allowing a Wastelander in…. We cannot afford something like this to happen."

"As I told the Head Scribe, Sentinel, we will discuss our opinions during the hearing." Elder Dimitri repeated but more forcibly this time. Sentinel Worth shook his head again before heaving a sigh.

The next pair to walk in was Knight-Captain Hardy and Knight Linderman, dressed in similar formal uniforms as the Sentinel but the primary colors and trim varied. The Knight-Captain had a darker grey uniform than the Knight and the Knight had a lighter trim than the Knight-Captain. The pair recognized the Elder and his council appropriately before taking seats across from the Elder's council. Knight Linderman had come with two folders and a single piece of paper.

Lastly, Star Paladin Connelly entered a few minutes later. She took her seat next to the Knight without saying a word. They were all there and the Elder, for the first time in a long time, was nervous. Very nervous. He was unsure of how this hearing would go. He knew there would be a lot of conflicting opinions to be thrown around but he knew he needed to be steadfast.

He was the Elder. His decision was all that mattered in the end.

A tense silence stifled the room; the calm before the storm. And then Elder Dimitri began, "I appreciate everyone taking time to be here on such short notice. Knight Linderman, may I see the Initiate's files and the incident report?"

The Knight handed two folders and the accompanying paper to him.

He thanked the Knight and opened the folders for examination. The room watched as he inspected them. He paged through the contents within both folders and found that they offered no useful information. There was no previous disciplinary infractions for either Initiate and their medical and training records were both exceptional. He handed the folders down to the Head Scribe and the Sentinel for review and then he read the incident report:

Int. L. O'Brien and Int. A. Oster have had a few encounters that were non benevolent, including threats and taunts by both parties and unwarranted physical contact initiated by Int. A. Oster before the incident. Int. A. Oster disregarded all requirements to accept Initiate L. O'Brien into the division and has harassed her from the beginning. The circumstances leading up to the incident of attention was upon friendly chatter in the mess hall at approximately 1845. Int. A. Oster and Int. L. O'Brien mutually and verbally taunted each other and proceeded to threaten one another. Int. A. Oster threw her dinner tray at Int. L. O'Brien. In response, Int. L. O'Brien fought back. Kn. Erik Linderman broke up the fight before any sustainable injuries happened. Both Int. have none to minor injuries and are currently on lockdown awaiting reprimand.

Threats? Harassment? Unwarranted physical contact?

Elder Dimitri was stunned at the amount of contact these two initiates had that was not meant in good spirits and yet Knight Linderman had a blind eye to it. He tried hard not to assume negligence but had no choice until proven otherwise. His mind buzzed with questions.

He watched as the Head Scribe and Sentinel gave the folders back to the Knight, not pleased with the contents inside of them. He started again, addressing everyone, "The two Initiates we have in question are Initiate Andreanna Oster and Initiate Lisette O'Brien. Both of which have no disciplinary infractions on their records and exceptional medical and training records. But it appears that these two Initiates have had substantial amounts of contact that are questionable." He turned to Knight Linderman, "Knight, can you explain to me what these 'threats' and 'unwarranted physical activity' you wrote are?" The Elder handed the incident report to the Head Scribe and Sentinel who feverishly looked over it.

Knight Linderman cleared his throat and began, "Yes, Elder. I would first like to say that I apologize to everyone in here of the behavior of my Initiates and I recognize that I am at fault for allowing this conduct to happen without consequence. With that being said, I have been extremely impressed with every single one of my Initiates, including the two that are in question today. I am appalled that despite my efforts to instill a strict sense of discipline, there was still a fight that broke out yesterday. I was not aware that there was contact between the two Initiates that would warrant concern. Other Initiates in my division were aware but made no effort to bring it to my attention, therefore, at the time of the fight, it was too late. According to other initiates, the harassment ranged from unfriendly banter and arguments to verbal threats. The unwarranted physical contact was during a training session. The initiates were running in formation and Initiate Oster shoved Initiate O'Brien, causing her to fall. I was unaware of the previous happenings so I was not quick to question. I had assumed it had been an accident."

"But who was the instigator? As childish as it sounds, who started it?" Elder Dimitri asked.

"From what I've gathered, Initiate Oster had been instigating all harassment before it became a two-way banter." he replied.

"Knight, are you suggesting that my daughter caused that fight!" the Head Scribe hissed across the table.

The Knight stood firm and replied, "I'm confident that most of the harassment came from her, Head Scribe. Initiate O'Brien made attempts to be friendly but it was not returned."

He scoffed. "Can you blame her! Training alongside a Wastelander must be incredibly demeaning. Sharing the same privileges as someone who has no history, no blood within the Brotherhood… I can't believe you have allowed something like this to happen underneath your nose, Knight. I find it hard to say you're the best training officer we have. After this, I'm not sure I feel the same about you. You put my daughter in danger and the entire Brotherhood… You must be so ashamed…"

The Knight maintained eye contact with the Head Scribe, not wavering.

Star Paladin Connelly jumped into the conversation. "Did you not hear what Knight Linderman said? He said that your daughter put another Initiate in danger. Harassment from such good genes is unacceptable."

"Oh, you have some nerve to say that, Star Paladin. You're the reason that Wastelander is here in the first place!" The Head Scribe was fuming, "you are the one that has put the entire Brotherhood in jeopardy! What made you think it was such a great idea to bring her in here? Was it some personal vendetta? I heard an earful from the Elder about your absurd objections about our current values concerning Wastelanders…"

Sentinel Worth cut in. "You above all else, Star Paladin, should realize what dark times we are in. I was beginning to think we were making some progress but your rash decisions may have hampered all of that."

"Wastelanders are despicable things," the Head Scribe sneered, "they're selfish and disgusting. They offer nothing to the world we live in. All they do occupy space and kill one another with their primitive motives and are unpredictable because of that. And I believe this Wastelander we're dealing with is no exception to that. She could have killed my daughter! She's an animal. "

"I knew what I was getting all of us into when I brought her here." Paladin Connelly bit.

"Did you, Star Paladin?" the Head Scribe snapped with fire in his voice.

"You make it sound like saving someone's life is a crime."

"Wastelanders don't need saving." Knight-Captain Hardy added under his breath.

"That's a brash statement, Knight-Captain," Star Paladin Connelly lashed out, "I would find it hard to believe that you wouldn't have done the same if you were in my position. I knew what I was getting all of us into when I brought her here."

"What are you saying?" Sentinel Worth demanded.

"I'm saying, Sentinel, that we need to open our damn eyes and look around for once! We are not the only ones here in this Wasteland. We're not much different than the Wastelanders. We're only making the ends meet. You can't deny that's what we have been doing these past few years."

"Open our damn eyes?" The Head Scribe bit between gritted teeth. "Have you forgotten our progress on eradicating the Super Mutant population? We're doing the entire Wasteland a favor… And that's all we can afford and all we should do. It's not our job to save the Wasteland."

"Do you realize how incredibly privileged we are inside of these walls? We have running water, an abundance of food, shelter, armaments and protection while the rest of the Capital Wasteland suffers for food everyday. If you've spent any time outside of the Citadel, you will realize that. We are selfish for keeping all of these luxuries to ourselves… I apologize, Elder, for any disrespect but we are failing as an organization. How much longer can we maintain this lie of prosperity? Our reputation is not favored in the Wasteland and it should not be that way. Reaching out to the Wasteland and helping those who need it the most will improve our image and it is also an opportunity for gathering strength. We could expand our numbers and expand our breadth."

"Are you suggesting outreach and recruitment?" Sentinel Worth demanded.

Head Scribe interjected before Star Paladin Connelly could respond. "It sounds more like an opportunity to dilute Brotherhood blood."

"I brought her here to prove a point. I brought her here to show all of you that recruits from the outside can be the answer to our problems. But it appears you are more concerned with petty matters. Desperate times calls for desperate measures. Exclusivity will kill us, Head Scribe. The longevity of the Brotherhood is not sustainable… How much more interbreeding can we do? No one talks about that."

"Says the woman that wasn't able to contribute to our numbers…" The look that came over Star Paladin Connelly's face when the Head Scribe uttered those words was something the Elder had never seen from her. Her usual calm and collected face was suddenly flushed and her jaw clenched. She was enraged by his statement. He shoved an accusing finger at her. "I've had enough of your insubordination… You are speaking absolute nonsense. The Brotherhood will never accept outsiders. We will never accept their kind as supplement."

Elder Dimitri slammed his fists on the table, gathering everyone's attention. He was fine with some hashing out but the Head Scribe was resulting to personal insults and that was unacceptable. The air in the conference room was alive with energy. Tensions were high and he wouldn't stand it any longer. He glared at the Head Scribe. "Have you forgotten Head Scribe that it was I that authorized Initiate O'Brien's clearance here. Not her." The Elder watched as the anger disappeared from Star Paladin Connelly's face and replaced with a deceitfully calm visage. The Elder continued

"I am on the verge of throwing you out of this hearing, Head Scribe, unless you get ahold of your anger and push your personal matters to the side... And you have the audacity to question my motives? Your personal beliefs about Wastelanders or anything of the sorts is silenced. We are not dealing with a Wastelander. We are dealing with two Brotherhood Initiates who did not like one another and got into a fight. We can make this situation simple or complex. In the best interest of the Brotherhood, we need to consider it in simpler terms. She is not a Wastelander. She is an Initiate. And Knight Linderman has kept me very aware of her progress." He gave an indication the Knight Linderman to proceed with the conversation. Elder Dimitri watched as the Knight shakily straightened the folders in front of him.

Knight Linderman began, cautiously, "Initiate O'Brien is among the best Initiates I have ever trained. She has made incredible progress in the past four weeks. She has surpassed her fellow Initiates by miles. She runs farther, faster, longer, shoots straighter, listens closer than the rest. She does well in standard and regulation lessons and has a lot of traits that set her apart from everyone else in my division."

The Head Scribe grumbled something.

"I'm sorry, what was that Head Scribe? Do you wish to add something?" Elder Dimitri snapped.

Sentinel Worth spoke up in the Head Scribe's defense. "I must ask, Knight, is there any bias in this situation? Is there any reason you would favor her over other Initiates? Is it because you sympathize with Star Paladin Connelly?"

"Pardon me, Sentinel?" the Knight's face became stone cold and pale.

"That is outrageous!" Knight-Captain Hardy pitched in.

"Is the fact that a Wastelander is showing up Brotherhood born and bred Initiates too much for you two to swallow?" Knight Linderman cut in, hoping to appease both the Sentinel and his Knight-Captain. "Wastelanders offer new characteristics and insights that a pure Brotherhood initiates wouldn't have the slightest idea of. Initiate O'Brien doesn't take a single thing she has for granted. She relishes her meals, never complains about the taste. She appreciates her clothing and her bunk. And do you know why she does all of that? Because she knows what it's like to go days without food. She knows what it's like to not have a bed or clean clothes on her back. Those are things other Initiates I've trained have never once acknowledged. Because of those reasons, she performs every task to the best of her ability because she knows deep down inside that everyone around her is judging her and keeping a close eye on her because she's not like everyone else. Deep down inside she knows that if she messes up in the slightest, all of the things she's come to appreciate these last few weeks will be taken away from her and she'll be in the same situation she was taken out of. In my opinion, she would be a tremendous addition to the Brotherhood. Her tactic, her character, it's unlike anyone I've ever seen. And to me, it's refreshing. There's a living, breathing person in there and not like the shells I train alongside her. Pure Brotherhood Initiates are easy and predictable. They know the drill; they've been taught how to sit, stand, and walk like a Brother of Steel from the moment they were brought into this world. But she makes my job a challenge, new and interesting.

"And perhaps it is inappropriate of me to say this but I'm going to say it anyway," he was addressing the Head Scribe and Sentinel directly, "something needs to be done. The Brotherhood is not the same anymore. I'm not condoning the Star Paladin's plan… unless you two have something else in mind. For the time being, I am in full support of it. And as a Knight, I have no voice but today, I'm speaking and hoping to be heard. We're desperate. We're failing. As our leaders, something needs to be done and you are the only ones capable of doing that."

The members of conference room were speechless. His words were remarkable and seemed to stump the outspoken Head Scribe and Sentinel. Elder Dimitri was impressed and somehow filled with pride. The Knight was incredibly well-spoken. He had not known much of him before Initiate O'Brien's arrival but was beginning to realize that he was insightful and well-versed. He was aware and open-minded. The Elder needed to remember that and knew that a promotion would have to be in order for him from his performance alone. This situation was… tough and he handled it very well.

The conference room, again, fell to silence and in that silence, the Elder took hold of the hearing. He could sense everyone was agitated and knew it would be best to finish as quick as possible to save anymore trouble. "I suppose we should come to some sort of disciplinary conclusion. Upon revision of the Codex, the reprimand for unruly behavior is dependent upon both parties and the circumstance. Reprimand ranges from twenty to one-hundred and sixty hours of latrine duties, maintenance duties, or of other sorts, to suspension of promotion in the case of a promotion is in question, and in the most extreme situations, expulsion."

"Expulsion." the Head Scribe grumbled.

"All in favor of expulsion?" Elder Dimitri asked the table.

The Head Scribe was the only individual who raised his hand, high and proud. "Overruled. That type of reprimand is out of the question for this circumstances. Unless you can prove me with evidence that would warrant expulsion.. But I'm confident you don't have it. Is forty hours of mess hall duty sufficient enough?"

"Sixty…." Captain Hardy corrected.

"Fifty." Star Paladin Connelly pitched in.

"Fifty," Elder Dimitri affirmed, "Fifty hours of mess hall duty sounds appropriate enough for both Initiates."

Knight Linderman made a small gesture with his hand, requesting room to speak. "Elder, if I may suggest that they could take separate training paths? I'm almost certain that the harassment will continue despite that mess hall duty. Initiate O'Brien could continue training toward Knighthood and Initiate Oster could begin scribe training."

Elder Dimitri wasn't against the idea and he figured it would be the easiest path in dealing with the situation. And right now, he wanted the path of least resistance. He certainly didn't want anything like this to happen again... He turned to Knight Linderman. "I understand your concern, Knight, and I approve. It's settled, then. This hearing is dismissed."

1734, May 5, 2280, Citadel, B-Ring, Conference Hall

Knight Linderman exhaled heavily as the Elder dismissed the hearing. He had been holding in a tense breath for what seemed like ages. Knight-Captain Hardy was the first to stand and exit the conference room without so much as a word. And that's when Linderman took his leave. He gathered his folders and stood to depart. On the way out, the Elder stopped him with a firm grip to his shoulder. He didn't say a word, only gave him a weak smile..

Once he was out of the conference room, he felt a weight lift from his shoulder. The hearing was heated and the last time Linderman had felt that amount of stress, he was cornered by a horde of Super Mutants. And now, he was debating which had been more frightening. Tempers had run high and no one left the room happy. A conclusion had been reached about the degree of reprimand for his Initiates but it had not been easy…

The only thing on his mind was to speak with Star Paladin Connelly. About what, he wasn't completely sure. She had taken the brunt of the attacks, especially from the Head Scribe and he had never seen her so pissed. He decided he would wait outside the conference room for her to emerge. He opened the folders in his hand to busy himself in the meantime.

The door to the conference room opened. He looked up and the Sentinel exited. He turned the opposite direction of Linderman but the door remained open. Star Paladin Connelly stepped out. He immediately intercepted her and said, "Star Paladin, may I speak with you for a moment?"

She approached him, lost in thought as indicated by her drawn face. She looked very tired. "What is it, Knight?" she asked, softly.

"How do you think that went?" he asked.

She shook her head. "You have your reprimand orders. That was our main purpose of this hearing."

Linderman lowered his tone significantly and said to her, quietly, "I had no idea the Head Scribe was so… angry. He always seemed like such a passive man." She only looked down at her feet. She didn't respond. But he persisted. "What did he mean by you not contributing to our numbers? What does that mean?"

"That's none of your damn business." She hissed.

He was brought back by her harshness. He swallowed hard and realized he was asking inappropriately questions. He immediately felt very stupid. With that said, she turned to leave but he interjected, "Before you go, I wanted to let you know that Initiate O'Brien told me what you plan to do with her."

She gave him a piercing glare. Her mouth began to form a question but instead, she remained calm and cool, "I'm not sure I understand."

"About her brother? About how you promised her that you would help her find him?" he said, "when were you planning on telling me that?"

"And why is that any of your business?" she bit.

"Because I'm her training officer and I feel like that's something I should know."

Finally, she broke her stubborn wall and said, "I told her eventually. Whenever she earned it. Whenever she did her time."

"And when is that exactly?"

"I haven't decided, besides," she stepped in close to him and whispered, "she didn't want to be here so I gave her a reason. How else was I supposed to do that?"

Linderman drew back, shocked. Her words were deceitful. Had she bribed O'Brien to want to be here? "But you're going to help her, right? You can't make a promise like that and not follow through… That's… that's horrible."

The Star Paladin shrugged. "Like I said, how else was I supposed to do it? I will follow through. I don't make promises I don't keep. But I'm well aware of how little free time I have. You already have enough to worry about, Knight. Don't start worrying about her and her well-being." With that, she left him standing there, baffled. He immediately began to feel horrible, a horrible sinking feeling as if he were on the brink of realizing something horrid. As he walked back to his office, he began to connect the dots with what he knew so far.

Connelly had brought O'Brien here to prove to everyone that outsiders can be trusted and that we should focus efforts on recruiting from the Wasteland. O'Brien, however, did not want to become a part of the Brotherhood. To get around that, Connelly promised O'Brien that she would help her find her brother if she joined. Whether or not Connelly will maintain that promise was up in the air and Linderman found that disturbing. But she had no idea. Linderman wasn't entirely convinced that she would follow through… But he figured he'd have to trust her on that. Deep down inside, Linderman felt a swelling when he thought of O'Brien. The Star Paladin had told him not to worry but he was doing the opposite.

He would keep an eye on her and on the Star Paladin.

As he arrived at his office, he was suddenly exhausted and weak. His office was empty but now had a second cot in the corner, for O'Brien. The Codex didn't have guidelines on where the lockdown would be but he figured within his watch, he could keep her away from trouble, for the time being.

He tossed the folders onto his desk and went to his cot, where he collapsed, numbly. He knew he should eat dinner but he wasn't hungry. Instead, he closed his eyes and enjoyed the silence that had come over his office. He drifted into a light sleep.

The sound of his door opening woke him with a jerk. He bolted upright to see O'Brien standing in the doorway, dressed in her light grey fatigues. He was stunned and a little self-conscious at the sight of her. He felt an invisible hand clutch his throat. Her black hair was beginning to grow out since it had been shaved a few weeks prior and he would often seen her whisping it out of her face in annoyance. It would have to be shaved again soon. She came in, accompanied by Knight McDaniels

She avoided his eyes, apologizing, "Oh, sorry, sir… I didn't mean to barge in. I mean, seeing as though this is where I'm supposed to stay, I don't really have a choice."

Linderman gave a small wave to Knight McDaniels who returned it before shutting the door behind O'Brien. She observed his desk as she passed by to sit on her cot. "So I assume the hearing went as planned?"

He stood up, straightening his uniform. "Of course."

"How did it go?"

He knew he shouldn't talk to her directly about it but he desperately wanted to. Instead, he would tell her the verdict. "You've been put under probation until you have completed fifty service hours of mess hall duty. So is Initiate Oster."

She crossed her arms over her chest."So, you're not kicking me out?"

"No."

She heaved a sigh and sat heavily on her cot. "I don't know if I should be happy about that or not. Guess the Wasteland will have to wait to finish me off, huh?"

Linderman wasn't sure if it was a blessing or not either. He continued, "You will be continuing on the path to Knighthood but Initiate Oster will be commencing training as a scribe instead of a knight."

Her face lit up. "Really?"

"I don't think service hours will change Initiate Oster's thoughts of you. If anything, she probably thinks even lower of you now than she did before. You will be participating in separate training to eliminate the chance of another incident like what happened yesterday from happening again." he said.

"Well that's good. Like I said, I really tried to like her. I did. But she was not having it at all." O'Brien gave a small laugh, "I'm sure the Head Scribe was pissed."

Linderman went and sat at his desk. "He was not happy, to put it simply. Also, I wanted to apologize to you about the things I said to you earlier. I haven't lost my confidence in you. I sometimes say things I don't mean when I'm angry and I apologize for that."

She gave him a dismissive wave. "Oh, don't worry about it. I've been told worse things in my life."

With that, he busied himself at his terminal, beginning to write the first infraction record to put in their files before he returned them to the scribes. As he mindlessly wrote the record, he began to think of the Head Scribe. He was, indeed, not a happy man and Linderman was shocked at how brutal his attacks were, not only to Star Paladin Connelly but to himself. He was hurt by his words, unfortunately. Coming from such a high power, being told you should be ashamed of what happened underneath your command was bad enough. But being told that you weren't respected as an accomplished trainer was even worse. He pushed his hurt to the side and hoped that it was only out of anger that he said those things. For it being the first time he had interacted with the Head Scribe, it wasn't anything to be proud of.

But then there was the Elder. He wondered why the Elder had stopped him and smiled at him before he left. He wondered what that meant. To Linderman, the Elder was a man that readily deserved and continually earned his respect. For being the representative of the caliber of the Brotherhood, he couldn't imagine anyone else for the job. He was passionate yet reasonable, straight-forward yet open-minded. He listened and responded to his circumstances and wasn't blinded by one side of the story. Even if he didn't agree, he would listen. However, if he was right, he would let you know. He was the one, after all, that had kept the Brotherhood afloat for so long. He owed respect to anyone who could manage that.

Suddenly, there was a new message on his terminal.

It was from the Elder:

FROM: DM-001E

TO: LN-085K

SUBJECT: An Apology

Knight,

I would like to formally apologize on behalf of Head Scribe Oster about any offensive remarks he made in your regard. Tempers had run high and I had not anticipated the Head Scribe would be so belligerent to such good men.

You are still a great training officer, Knight. Despite the blame you put on yourself, Initiates will be Initiates. Things like this happen and there's no going around it. Where you go from here is what matters most. I am still confident in your abilities as a training officer - that will never change.

I am extremely impressed with how you handled yourself during the hearing. You embody everything a Brother of Steel should: perseverance in the face of opposition, composure in chaos and strength in light of vulnerability.

I believe a promotion should be in order. Today, May 5th, Knight Linderman, you have been promoted to Senior Knight Linderman. Come by my office tomorrow at the most convenient time to receive your new ranks and proper acknowledgement.

Congratulations, Senior Knight. You deserve it.

Continue to fight the good fight. Perhaps, if we had more Knights like you, the Brotherhood wouldn't be in the state it is today.

With regard,

Elder A. Dimitri

0254, May 6, 2280, Secure Transmission Channel, Unknown Location

FROM: P_BC

TO: P_FMK

SUBJECT: Urgent, Read ASAP

I'm running out of time and patience.

The Wastelander got into a fight the other day. Listening to the Elder and Head Scribe's verbal garbage was unbearable. Not only that, but the Head Scribe's pissed at me. As if I'm the reason his bratty daughter got into a fight with a rough and tough Wastelander… It's been an existential crisis in their eyes. I'm viewing it more in the light of: "it was bound to happen".

I'm also running out of things to tell the Elder. He's expecting me to have a full report on the armor's whereabouts but I "haven't found it yet". He's getting tired of hearing that.

I need a distraction.

I have an idea but I need some guidance on how exactly I'm going to pull it off. Hopefully you can help me with that.

I'll be back home soon.

0700, May 11, 2280, Citadel, Courtyard

Nearly a week after the disciplinary hearing, the bailey was void of its usual chatter on this particular morning.

In the center of the bailey, there were seven Initiates standing at parade rest in front of Senior Knight Linderman. He looked at their faces, studied their thousand-yards stare, their glazed eyes and straight lips. He was proud of them thus far but today, they would have to prove themselves. Adorned in his power armor, the Senior Knight paced up and down the formation of Initiates. With his hands clasp behind his back, he began, "Initiates, come to!" They snapped to attention, "Today is the day for you to show me your worth. And if you're successful, a promotion and clearance to the next level of training will be in order." He stopped in front of Initiate O'Brien and for a moment, she captured his attention.

It wasn't long ago, she was in his office, eyes red and tears on her cheeks, crying to him. It wasn't long ago that she had showed her true colors to him. However, he was not undaunted. He knew that there was still fight left in her, more purpose than what her words portrayed. Her eyes did not meet his. He continued pacing, "If not, you will be under hearing and expulsion from the Citadel will be a very real possibility. However, I feel that each and every one of you have what it takes to make the cut. But don't expect this to be easy…

"This is how it works. There are four parts to this test: strength, accuracy, stamina, and agility. For the strength portion, you will drop and do fifty push-ups and fifty sit-ups," he pointed to pull-up bars to his right, "then five pull-ups. Next, you will run to the shooting range," he gestured accordingly, "you will pick up the laser rifle and shoot the dummy in the head, chest, both legs consecutively. If you miss, start over. If you're waiting, begin planking until it's your turn. After you have completed the task at the shooting range, you will begin a three mile run. The last test is the agility course," he gestured to a course which had been constructed in an empty space in the bailey. It consisted of various activities that the Initiates had done before however at the end of the course was a large pole and a bell at the top, "once you have reached the end of the agility course... climb up the pole and ring the bell. Once I've heard the bell ring seven times, I will call time. Remember, this is a group effort. The speed you use to complete one activity may hinder another's progress. Keep that in mind… This isn't supposed to be easy. If it were, we would be letting anyone become a Knight, wear our insignia and fight for our cause. Show me what you're worth, Initiates," He took out a small hand timer, "Forward!" He activated it and with that, the Initiates dropped and began their test. Linderman made his way to the guard post which overlooked the entire bailey to observe and record times.

He remembered seven years ago which he was in their same shoes. At the raw age of eighteen, he was more than excited to fulfill his lifelong wish, to become a true Brother of Steel. He had dreamed about it since he was eight years old when he first became a Squire. His parents had raised him by the doctrine of the Codex and were supportive of everything he did and accomplished. He was making them proud every day even if they were all the way in the mountains of Vermont hunting yao gai for their retirement. However, now that he was a Knight and had the privilege of training the newest additions to the Brotherhood, the excitement of being a full-fledged member of the Brotherhood had worn off. It was all roses and sunshine within the walls of the Citadel but once you ventured outside the walls, it was an alien world. He had seen impoverished people. He had seen the horrors the revolting Wasteland had birthed. He had seen the worst of mankind become normality. He understood that the Brotherhood fell somewhere in that category. The disciplinary hearing from a week prior had brought a lot of quiet thoughts to the table. He didn't imagine that there would be any immediate pursuit of those thoughts but he had to wonder what events would push it over the edge.

Knight Linderman brought his attention back to the Initiates below. He was asking himself questions that were not his to ponder. He was in no position to change anything about the Brotherhood's objectives or ways. Yes, he had spoken his mind before but it was only a flickering of something he wasn't. He had to revert back to his duties and his usual mindsets. There were good people working towards their future.

He looked down at the timer in his palm. Five minutes had passed and a majority of the Initiates were finishing their strength test and continuing to the shooting range. The shooting range is where he figured the most time would be spent. He didn't expect any of his Initiates to become marksmen but knowing how to shoot a laser rifle well and with accuracy was a must. At this point, no one seemed to catch his attention. They were progressing well. Until Initiate Van finished the shooting range test within thirty seconds. He was impressed. He hadn't seen anyone shoot like that before. Just because he didn't expect them to be marksmen didn't mean they couldn't be. He began his three mile run with two others on his tail.

With only a few Initiates stuck at the shooting range and the rest running around the bailey, he began to see who his true runners were. He had come to know everyone's strengths and weaknesses during the past five weeks but this test would allow everyone to show their true colors. The runners that were in the lead were Initiate Brigham and Initiate O'Brien. They both were always at each other's throats when it came to daily runs. Initiate Brigham was built to be a runner. He was tall and thin. As for Initiate O'Brien, he didn't know how she managed to keep up with Brigham. She had the stamina and the endurance, not necessarily speed. Brigham had the speed and the stamina. But somehow, she was right on his heels.

It was nearing half a hour when Brigham, followed by O'Brien and Initiate Taylor finished the three mile run and moved on to the last part of the test. They had to crawl under barbed wire, through mud, hop and duck under structures, and scale a wall. It wasn't easy especially considering what they had done prior, the strength tests and running. It was often here, they would decrease their pace trying to catch their breaths. With all the Initiates running, he watched the Initiates move through the obstacle course. Initiate Brigham and Initiate Taylor struggled through the mud while Initiate O'Brien clambered her way up the wall, taking the lead. Nearly at the top, she lost her footing and fell flat on her back. Linderman cringed. It looked like it hurt. Initiate Taylor stepped over her and began up the wall. It took her a moment to regain her momentum but again she climbed. Taylor reached the top of the wall and hoisted himself over. He fell the entire way down on the other side, crumbling into a heap at the bottom. He could hear him cry out in pain.

Linderman made haste down to the obstacle course after he watched Taylor writhe in pain, clutching his right ankle. Once he was down to their level, he called out to the Initiates who noticed their pained teammate, "Keep going, keep going!"

Initiate Taylor's face was red and contorted by a mixture of pain and fear. "Knight, I think… I think I broke my ankle, sir. I'm so sorry! I'm so sorry!" he blubbered, sweat glistening on his face.

Linderman hoisted him up by his shoulders and began to lead him away to a bench, saying, "As far as I'm concerned, you're done, Intiaite. No use in getting injured. You've completed the test." Initiate Taylor sat down heavily on the bench and looked up to say something to his training officer but the chime of a bell brought their attention to the tall pole.

As Linderman spun around, Initiate O'Brien slid down the pole and raise her hands above her head and let loose a bellowing cheer. Linderman quickly brought out his timer, lapsed it and recorded her time: 31:04. The rest followed suit. Within another five minutes, the bell rang five more times. The last Initiate ended at: 36:51. The times were acceptable and he found all were within standards for promotion. But he didn't dare say that. Instead, he dismissed them and assured his division that his verdict for promotions would come after dinner. Initiate Taylor was sent to the medical bay for treatment of his ankle.

In the meantime, he sent his power armor to the armory for its regular tune-up, dressed down into his fatigues, and began his way for his office to order new ranks and promotional notes for his division.

0724, May 12, 2280, Citadel, Initiate Bunkhouse

It was a tiny thing in Lisette's hand, about the size of a bottle cap. It was a single inverted chevron, solid brass, golden and shiny. Senior Knight Linderman had given them a speech when they all received them. He said that they were special and that it signified their progress in becoming Knights of Steel.

The entire division had just been dismissed and they were all in the barracks, putting on their new ranks on. They were all chattering happily to one another but Lisette found herself staring blankly at it in her fingers. She didn't know how to put it on, and frankly, she wasn't entirely convinced it was worthy of her excitement. Van walked up to her with a wide smile and cheered, "Can you believe it? We did it!"

"Did what?" Lisette laughed dryly.

"We got promoted! That actually means we're doing something right!"

Goodwin popped in and added, "Well, we didn't completely do it. We still got a few more promotions until we're knights."

"Don't spoil the mood, Goodwin!" Van snapped at him. Then he looked at Lisette and asked, "Do you want me to help you put it on?"

"I guess, I have no idea how to." She handed the small brass piece to him. They were all dressed in their formal uniforms for the promotion. The uniforms were a light grey and it was the first time Lisette had worn her pair. The way she understood how uniforms worked was that higher ranking individuals had darker uniforms than lower ranks. Not only did they get darker in fabric color, they also became more intricate and more custom. Patches, medals, ranks and ribbons displayed varying achievement. Knight Linderman had quite a few ribbons, medals and patches on his uniform as she had observed earlier. He wore the uniform well.

Van pulled the fabric below her shoulder and pinned it parallel to the ground. He stood back to admire his work. "I'd say that's pretty straight." He gave her a smack on the arm. "Looks great on you! You should be the happiest one here. We've had this coming for a long time but you, look at you! Showing us all up with the third fastest time ever for the promotion test!"

"I have to admit, you'd probably give Knight Linderman a run for his money." Goodwin reckoned with a smirk.

Lisette waved a hand at him. "Oh, please. He'd eat my dust."

The three of them laughed.

As the evening came, the seven Senior Initiates decided to celebrate with a few drinks. Taylor brought out a few bottles of whiskeys and together, they all drank, splayed out across their bunks until their casual conversation turned into bellowing laughter and crude jokes. Everyone drank except for Lisette. She didn't want to drink; the buzz made her anxious. So instead of it turning into a negative for her, she would police them all. She would usher them back into the barracks if someone were to wander toward the exits. She laid low and out of the conversations and instead listened. She couldn't help but laugh; they were interesting conversations to say the least. But Van was determined to get her to drink. He continually handed her drinks but she would pour it into his when he was turned the other way.

"Ever wonder what it feels like to get it on with a ghoul?" Brigham asked.

Lisette cringed. "What the hell?"

Stevens giggled. "I'm sure it… it hurts like hell. Imagine, all those teeth!" he shuddered.

"Yeah! And skin would be flaking off all over the place!" Brigham laughed.

Lisette's face was contorted into a face of horror and disgust. "Have you guys never seen a ghoul? They have teeth just like we do…Or no teeth at all..."

They didn't acknowledge Lisette had said anything and continued to banter.

Van stood up from his bunk, swayed so much a bit of his drink dribbled out. He approached Lisette on the top bunk across from his. He braced himself on the railing and tried to maintain eye contact as he said, "You gotta… you gotta have some more of this, O'Brien." He hiccuped.

"I'm good, Van. I've had enough."

"You gotta… you gotta loosen up a bit. You're too… too serious." Again, he hiccuped.

"I'm good, Van." she persisted.

He shrugged. "Okaayy, I just thought a pretty woman like yourself… should, should let herself go every once in awhile." He staggered back over to his bunk and flopped back down heavily.

Lisette started to get down from her bunk. Van sat up abruptly at her movement. "Where, where are you going?"

"I'm gonna go clear my head. Get some fresh air. No one leave, okay?" She exchanged looks with everyone.

"Fresh air…" Taylor snorted, "Wasteland air is the farthest thing from fresh! Hahahaha…" his words died out into giggling.

Yeah, I'm definitely going to get some fresh air.

She stepped outside of their bunkhouse and onto the balcony. The night air was pleasantly dry and cool with a slight breeze creeping through the bailey. The moon and stars hid behind dusty clouds. She leaned against the stone railing and closed her eyes, taking in the environment.

The smell of stone and metal was heavily on the air and was the scent that dominated most of the Citadel. It smelled of an ancient machine, dusty yet well oiled. Her fingers found the little chevron on her chest. It's smooth surface was cold on her fingers. She didn't feel honored to be wearing this little piece of metal. Everyone else was ecstatic and Lisette was still trying to comprehend all of this. A lot had happened the past week. She managed to get into a fight, be at risk of being thrown out of the Citadel, and promoted all in the same timeframe. She hadn't seen anything of Oster since they had been separated and she was glad. The less she saw of her, the better she felt. Although, she missed the opposition. Conflict made her feel a bit more alive inside. But now she was back with her wandering mind and her mind constantly wandered back to her brother.

It had been over a month since they had been separated. A whole month and she still didn't have the slightest idea what had happened to him or where he ended up. She missed him… Would he proud of her? Or disappointed? He was always so adamant about keeping their distance from Brotherhood Knights, Ghouls, Raiders and Super Mutants.

Her heart grew heavy. He would have been disappointed in her…. She had done exactly what he would always warn her about… She had the overwhelming urge to sob.

Suddenly, the smell of cigarette smoke wafted through with the breeze. Down below, she saw a familiar figure coming up the many flight of stairs toward the balcony. It was Star Paladin Connelly with a lit cigarette in her hand.

Lisette wiped her eyes on her arms and straightened herself up to greet her. Her gut twisted with the many feelings that began to boil through her, anger, grief, and impatience. She hadn't seen Connelly in ages it seemed. She always seemed so busy…

Connelly reached the balcony and didn't say a word. She was dressed in similar casuals as Lisette's except hers were black with dark grey trim and an elaborate gold emblem on her shoulder. Lisette glared at her and asked bitterly, "Fancy you actually being in the Citadel. You've been gone a lot."

"When you're a Star Paladin, you'll understand but right now, Senior Initiate, what I do is none of your goddamn business and how I spend my time also none of your business." Connelly replied just as bitter back to Lisette. She took a long drag of her cigarette and leaned against the stone railing. Through an exhale of smoke, she said, "I've been meaning to talk to you about a lot of things. And seeing the rest of your division is drunk off their asses, I figured now would be a good time to talk to you."

"You seem to know how to pick your moments…" Lisette commented.

Connelly shrugged. "How does it feel? How does this life feel to you?"

"I hate it."

"Do you? It doesn't look that way."

"I do and I hate it more because you haven't helped me find my brother yet. All because I haven't earned it. I got promoted. What else do I have to do to impress you?"

Connelly took another moment of silence to give her cigarette a good draw. Lisette couldn't help but feel like there was some ulterior motive happening here. There was something going on inside of Connelly's head that Lisette hadn't the slightest clue about but she wanted to know every single detail. She got the feeling that Connelly was purposefully letting time pass. But for what? Why?

Lisette continued, her voice becoming more desperate with each word, "If you're not going to help me, that's fine. I don't need your help. I can do it myself. But I want out of this hellhole. Sure, you guys have given me more than life has but that doesn't do much for me. Especially when the only thing I really care about is somewhere out there and I don't know where he isor what happened to him."

Connelly bristled slightly before she jumped in feverishly. "Listen, I don't think you understand how things work around here. I made that promise to you and you have my word. I'm a bitter old woman but I'm not a goddamn liar. But, I have orders. I can't just drop everything and go out into the wasteland and try to find someone. It's not as easy as you think…"

"If you didn't have time for me, then why the hell didn't you just leave me there to die? I'm sure it would have been a lot easier on you and me." Lisette bit.

"How was I supposed to know you had baggage?" She gave a snort. "Funny a world we live in when you do a good deed and it's overshadowed by ungratefulness..."

"And besides when will that be? When will you help me?" Lisette asked deadpan, ignoring her comment, "how long do I have to wait?"

Connelly took the last drag of her cigarette and threw the butt on the ground, stamping it out with her boot. "Not long."

Lisette groaned.

"I'm a bitch, I know. But we're going to have to find some way to get along."

"Why? Why would I?"

Connelly's eyebrows lifted. "Because you don't have a choice. By the Elder's orders, I'm becoming your sponsor. That's primarily what I wanted to talk to you about."

Lisette felt her face flush. Damn, she forgot. Great, her least favorite person and the only person that could help her was about to be her sponsor. Whatever the hell that actually meant.

"What else is there to be said? You're my sponsor. Woohoo." she said, very sarcastically.

Connelly spun to face Lisette and jabbed a finger at her. "Before you start with your attitude, make sure not to piss off the only people who are keeping you here. Knight Linderman and I had to do quite a bit of fighting to keep you here."

That caught Lisette off guard. She was drawn back by what she said. But nonetheless, she kept her attitude. "Really?" she asked, half-sarcastic.

"If we weren't there and if we hadn't have fought as hard as we did, you wouldn't be here. I don't think you understand how hard it is to convince a Head Scribe who already hates Wastelanders that you deserve to stay under our roof. It was especially hard to convince him since you decided to duke it out with his daughter above all people..."

Connelly had a point and Lisette couldn't argue with that. So, she decided to cut the attitude - of course, only for now. She went for a candid question instead. "What do sponsors even do?"

Connelly reached into her pocket and pulled out a pack of cigarettes. She popped off the top and offered it to Lisette silently. Lisette declined with a shake of her head and Connelly shrugged, picking one out and lighting it. "Good question. Sponsor is a very broad term. It means I'm supposed to guide you through training."

"What about Knight Linderman? Isn't he still my training officer?"

"Yes. Two days of out of the week, you and I will have the opportunity to get to know each other pretty well, whether you like it or not. The other five days, you'll be under Knight Linderman's direction."

"Oh, okay."

"Don't you worry your little head about it. You won't be separated from him for too long." Connelly jabbed with a grin.

Lisette threw her a glare. "What the hell does that mean? I was just asking."

"Uh-huh." She stood there a while, staring into the bailey, seemingly lost in thought. She finished her cigarette with haste before saying, "Tomorrow, meet me in the armory at 0800." With that, she ground her cigarette butt into the ground and left, leaving Lisette to herself again.

She couldn't imagine the kinds of things she could learn from Connelly.

0800, May 13, 2280, Citadel, Armory, Armor Garage

There was always something commandingly intimidating about power armor. The way the set of armor was suspended at its shoulders in the bright yellow chassis looked like sleeping beast. With its chin to its chest and arms lax at its sides, it was a slumbering machine waiting to be brought to life.

Lisette stared up at it, examining its smooth plates and complex helmet. T-45d was what it was called. Lisette couldn't tell a difference between different variations but she was assured that there was one. She was mesmerized by its size and complexity. The helmet itself had so many different parts and resembled a very advanced gas mask. Perhaps it worked the same.

It was early and half of her division wasn't up, especially after the amount of drinking that went on the night before. She was the first one up and on her foot locker, she found a folded pair of a very unattractive orange and grey uniform, gloves and boots. Reluctantly, she dressed in them, wondering why she hadn't seen these before, and found herself to the armory. She was greeted by the very boisterous armory officer who smelled heavily of alcohol and smoke. He ran a tight ship on the armory despite his various vices.

Eventually, Connelly dressed in similar uniform and entered the "armor garage" as most called it around the Citadel. It was a section of the armory that resembled much of a what a pre-war garage would include; tools and tool boxes, power armor stations, and various adhesives, bolts, and screws. There were more than ten power armor stations divided equally on either side of a median of tables and workbenches. Nearly fifteen power armor sets sat, suspended within the chassis's like a dormant, metal army.

Connelly joined Lisette's side in front of a power armor station. She had her arms crossed over her chest as she said, "You ready to try one of these bad boys?"

Lisette's heart rammed into her throat. "What? No… no. Absolutely not."

"Why not? This is the part that every Initiate lives for."

Lisette scoffed. "Not this Initiate…"

"You don't have a choice so listen up. This is T-45d power armor, I'm sure you already knew that, so I'll spare you the history lesson. That's what the scribes are for. It may not be the easiest thing to get around in but it sure as hell takes a punch. It allows for more strength and resists radiation pretty well thanks to the steel plates. But it's also heavy as hell but like I said, it beats standard-issue armor by a long shot. The uniform you have on is important, remember that. Without it, the power armor doesn't have any servos to connect to and won't recognize your movement. So, unless you like having weights on your arms and legs, I would suggest you keep that uniform handy."

"It won't recognize my movement?"

"Power armor's not just something you put on or plates you can attach to yourself. It's a fully functional suit that encloses you in an air-filtered, air-tight seal. But don't try going swimming, you'll sink like a fucking rock."

"Okay…"

"How about we get you into one? You'll understand what I'm talking about." Connelly pulled something from her pocket. She handed one to Lisette. It was a piece of intricate fabric, much like the suit they wore.

Connelly put it on over her head of silver hair and moved to the station just to the right of them and disappeared behind the large suit. Lisette followed and watched. With ease, Connelly turned the wheel at the back of the torso. With a satisfying exhale of pressure, the armor separated coronally and like a mechanized flower, all the plates opened, inviting someone to step inside. She grabbed onto the frame and fit herself into the shell and with another sigh, the plates engulfed her in metal. Now, Connelly stood a foot taller than she originally was. She gracefully looked down at Lisette and said through the helmet, "Now, that's not too difficult is it?"

Lisette swallowed hard. "You make it look easy."

"That's what happens when you've been doing this as long as I have." With that, she began forward with a swagger that could have only been obtained through years and years of experience. Lisette was intimidated. She did make it look easy and if she knew anything, it wasn't going to be easy for her. Connelly turned back to face Lisette and with scowling eyes, she said simply, "Go ahead. Give it a shot. Turn the wheel and get inside. That's all there is to it."

Timidly, Lisette put on the hood Connelly had given her and went behind the suit she had been staring at. With surprise, she turned the wheel with ease and with a loud hiss, the armor invited her inside. Mimicking what she had seen Connelly do, she hoisted herself into the frame. As the plates closed around her, fear rushed through her. Her heart hammered into her throat and for a split second, it was dark and silent, except for the sound of her pounding heart. Then the suit whirled to life. Conditioned air blew against her entire body within the many cavities of the suit and the heads-up display came before her eyes. The HUD was a confusing display of gauges and meters that Lisette couldn't make sense of. Suddenly, she was eye to eye with Connelly who gave her a powerful slam on the shoulder.

"There you go," Connelly said, "Look around, walk around. See how it feels."

But Lisette was terrified to move. The fear was sharp in her gut, stabbing like a knife. An overwhelming fear of claustrophobia was creeping up on her. But with a deep breath, she pushed the fear aside and turned her head. Much to her surprise, it turned fluidly. She looked down at her massive metal hands and moved her fingers. The hands mimicked her motion. She was shocked at how fluidly it moved.

Then, she took a step and the metal leg abided. She took another step and again the metal abided. She was surprised on how natural it felt but at the same time so unnatural. Who would have thought some Wastelander born and raised at the mercy of the wasteland would have the opportunity to step inside a suit of power armor?

It's funny how things turn out sometimes.

"How does it feel?" Connelly prodded, a smile in her voice.

"Weird…" was the only thing Lisette could manage out. Then she said, "I can't imagine actually fighting in this thing though."

"Trust me, it will become a second skin to you."

Lisette didn't necessarily believe that.

"Just give it a chance. You'd be surprised how nice it is sometimes." Connelly added.

Lisette still wasn't convinced but decided to go along with it.

"Ready to take it out for a spin?"

With that, Connelly led her up through the armory and out to the courtyard. The morning had come and the sun came through the courtyard with its dull rays. Lisette felt oddly comfortable and uncomfortable all at the same time. The way the armor fit to her body and moved with her body was fluid and comfortable. However, she could feel the energy on her body traveling from her limbs to the armor's limbs. It made her skin itch. She felt clunky and tripped at least three times from the armory to the courtyard.

"I'm surprised you didn't fall," Connelly laughed behind her helmet, "most do."

"I almost did…"

"You have to lift your feet higher than you think you do. You're standing on two solid inches of steel. They're not your average boots."

"I figured that much out."

"Good. Want to put that suit to the test?" Connelly turned and made her way over to a crate and picked it up. From the way she tossed it up, made it look hollow. It wasn't until Connelly threw it at Lisette did she realize it wasn't hollow and indeed, very heavy. When the crate collided with her, Lisette lost her balance and fell like a rock flat on her back.

Lisette laid there on her back and expelled a long breath.

Connelly walked up to her. Looking down at her, she said, "You were supposed to catch it."

"How the hell was I supposed to know that?"

Connelly offered her large hand and Lisette took it, hoisting herself up. "Pick up that crate. Test out how it feels to manipulate objects. We'll worry about weapons later."

Lisette bent over to pick up the crate and found it surprisingly light. As she found out a few moments before, it was not light. She looked at Connelly and said, "How much does this weigh?"

"I'd guess about forty or fifty pounds. Feels light, doesn't it? Just one of the many perks power armor gives you."

"I'm assuming we're not going to be testing out the radiation resistance, are we?" Lisette grinned.

Connelly gave a bitter laugh. "No. Let's go for a run." She spun on her heels and began to run. The world quaked at her every step. Her strides were easily two feet across and she covered ground quickly. The way she moved in the power armor would never cease to amaze her. She made it look so goddamn easy.

Lisette took a deep breath before breaking into a run to catch up to her. Again, to her surprise, the suit felt so natural despite the fact she was encased in layers of servos and steel. She felt powerful and fast. Lisette marveled at how quickly she caught up to Connelly. With every step she took, there was a slight spring and pep to it. The suit calculated the length of her steps and the weight of her to accurately cushion her foot falls and encourage her along. The suit responded and was almost alive in itself. It thought and it calculated and it carried itself weightlessly.

Lisette almost caught herself starting to like the feeling.

After a few laps around the bailey, the rest of the Citadel began to stir in their bunks, including her fellow Initiates in the bunkhouse. She spotted a few bodies standing out on the balcony, tracking her and Connelly as they lapped around the courtyard.

For a moment, she felt a sense of confidence come over her. She felt strong and powerful. And for a moment, she didn't feel like Lisette the Wastelander; she felt like O'Brien the Senior Initiate.

Maybe she could find a place to fit in after all.

0952, May 14, 2280, Citadel, VRT Briefing Room 1A

Virtual Reality Training, or VRT, was a highly effective training method and Senior Knight Linderman knew it would do some good to his division. VRT with blank rounds was as close to the real thing, as he led his division to believe. VRT didn't hurt but was relatively close to the real combat. Relatively.

Today, Knight Linderman would begin to learn the strengths and weaknesses of his division. That's what the second tier of training was geared towards: finding out where you fit in a team, realizing your potential, and unlocking it. He had some ideas about what roles each Initiate would fall into. From the look on everyone's face, he could see the excitement. In the briefing room outside of the VRT room, he had his division, all seven members, seated before a chalkboard.

Knight Linderman took a deep breath before he started, "Before we begin today, I would like to respectfully say that I am very proud of the progress of this division. Out of the three divisions I have trained the past few years, you all have shown the most progress. And I don't say that lightly. As you know, the Brotherhood is fumbling and the only way we can steady ourselves is bringing up smart and powerful Initiates, like yourselves. With that aside, I want to make it very clear that the first tier of training is easy compared to the next tier you are about to begin." The excitement from his division's face became more somber. He continued, "You will question yourself. You will find out a lot of things that you wish you hadn't. This is the tier that separates the Initiates from the Knights. Your life thus far has been very padded compared to the life you're about to realize. Take it from someone who was once in your shoes before."

He looked at O'Brien. She had her arms crossed over her chest. Her face said it all. His words weren't phasing her and he expected that. She had been through a great deal and had already witnessed the Wasteland in all its brutality. The looks on her comrades faces however were much more afraid. Linderman swallowed roughly.

Then a thought crossed his mind. For a moment, he was afraid for his division. The weight of the Brotherhood's status was finally hitting home. These were good men, capable of becoming amazing additions to the Knighthood. But he listened… he knew the Brotherhood's odds weren't looking good. The Wasteland was closing in on them with the Super Mutants constantly knocking at their front door, and with the Brotherhood not working towards any progress as an organization, Linderman didn't want to see these good men go to waste. He had to continually remind himself that it was not his job to worry about things like that. However, as much as Linderman hated it, his division was about to begin a journey toward an unknown future.

He picked up a piece of chalk from the chalkboard behind him and began, "Your objective today is going to be finding out where you individually fall into the team. You all are a team. I can't stress that enough. The second you forget that is the second you fall apart. But part of being a team is understanding where you fall and how you make the team function. I've been studying you all throughout the first tier of training. From what I've gathered, I have some suggestions. I would like to call out a particular Initiate who has proven to me that they are more than accomplished to be today's team commander." He wrote on the chalkboard: Commander - Goodwin.

His division clambered excitedly. Goodwin had a smile from ear to ear. O'Brien had a wide smile on her face too. Knight Linderman couldn't help but give a small smile. "You've earned it, Senior Initiate."

"Thank you, Knight." Goodwin thanked. The two Initiates on either side gave him a good smack on the back in celebration.

"You will be calling the shots today. A lot of responsibility falls on your shoulders but I'm confident you can handle it. The rest of you are under his command for this exercise," A new sense of pride arose on Initiate Goodwin's face. "The VRT task today is to retrieve a package from the enemy base and return it to your base. Simple. How you structure your arsenal and people is completely up to the commander. Also keep in mind, the rate at which time passing in VRT is no different than real time. However long it takes you to retrieve the package, the longer you stay there. You are automatically disconnected if you sustain too many injuries. The VRT task will be completed once you have retrieved the package and returned it, or you all die. Hopefully that won't happen." As he explained, he illustrated onto the chalkboard. "You have your briefing. You have your commander. Go through the door behind you and enter the VRT lab. Good luck. You're dismissed."

With that, his division stood from their seats and orderly exited the briefing room into the VRT lab. For a moment, Knight Linderman felt a very satisfying feeling. Soon, he would begin to incorporate self-efficiency within his division until the day he longer needed to command them. He was confident Initiate Goodwin was the best choice. All of the Initiates seemed to have a higher respect to him compared to everyone else and he always upheld standards and seemed to be on top of making sure everyone else was doing the same. He knew the rest would follow in line and individually fall into their own places.

Then he thought about O'Brien. She knew the Wasteland, better than all the other Initiates and arguably better than he did himself. However, how she would fare in combat would be a different story. Survival skills and luck didn't necessarily hint to good combat skills as well.

Today would be an interesting training exercise to say the least.

1004, May 14, 2280, Citadel, VRT Lab

Lisette had some reserves about laying down inside of an egg-shaped pod with a single chair inside of it. She had never imagined anything like "virtual reality". As Van had explained to her, it was the equivalent of falling asleep and waking up in a new place, like a dream. Except in the dream you are in full control over your thoughts and actions. It gave her the chills thinking about it. She wouldn't consider herself claustrophobic but as she stared at the pod before her, she had a creeping fear beginning in her gut.

Van gave her a nudge on the shoulder, which threw her out of her fearful trance. "You're looking at it like it's gonna eat you, O'Brien." He laughed, "It's not going to."

Lisette swallowed. "I know…"

"The less you think about it, the better. Just get inside. It's simple. Watch." Van mounted the steps of the VR pod next to hers and sat down in the chair. He exhaled, putting his arms behind his head. "See? Not so bad!"

"Easy for you to say…"

As the rest of the division mounted their VR pods, Lisette slowly started into hers. Her heart rammed into her throat and her stomach churned uneasily. She sat down slowly, her breath held. She looked over to Van who was intently watching her. He gave her an earnest smile. "You're fine! Don't have that look on your face!" he called.

The Proctor who oversaw the VR lab called last warning to enter before the loud hissing began to emanate from different points of the lab. Eventually, the glass of Van's pod began to close around him and his chair slowly flattened. "See you on the other side!" he called as it closed around him.

And then the glass in Lisette's pod began to envelope her. Her hands gripped the arms of the chair as the chair slowly leaned backward. A visor came around her eyes as the chair flattened. And then, there was silence.

Darkness and her pounding heart.

She closed her eyes, certain she would faint from fear.

And suddenly, it was day. Lisette opened her eyes, dumbfounded. She was standing in the middle of a decaying building. The roof had long fallen through and the remnants of three floors were staggered along the upward frame of the building. She was alone with a laser rifle in her hands. She could feel the slight breeze against her face and dust in her eyes. It was strange… suddenly, she was back in the Capital Wasteland. A deep and dormant fear began to well up inside of her. She remembered the fear, the hunger, the thirst associated with this harsh land. And she remembered her brother. Her mind rambled on about finding her brother and she half expected him to be standing beside her… But he wasn't. Her gut hurt.

"Hey! O'Brien!" a familiar voice echoed through the ruins. She turned to see Van coming toward her with a laser rifle of his own. "We gotta go! Objective's this way!"

Without any thought, she pushed out all of the horrible memories that had began to flood her brain and followed him. They started down a desolate street, howling with wind, riddled with empty vehicles. He turned into the front doors of a business building and in the foyer where the rest of her division was. A circular reception desk was the center of the room. The room was void of windows and the dirty floor was scattered with weapon and ammo crates and medical supplies. O'Brien and Van approached the desk which contained a radio and a deactivated terminal. Sutton had the guts of the radio spilled out on the desk as he fiddled with the innards.

Goodwin cleared his throat and addressed everyone, "We know what our objective is. This is our base, the location we need to return the package to."

"Okay… but where is this package? Do we even know what it looks like?" Stevens asked bitterly.

"No, that's part of it. We're supposed to figure that out." Goodwin replied steadily.

Stevens scoffed. "Lovely…"

"What? Did you expect this to be easy? Knight Linderman isn't about making things easy on us…" Taylor put in.

"Of course not. But I thought we'd at least have some intel to tell us something. Anything." Stevens said.

"No." Goodwin said.

"Well, go ahead, Commander, pave the way!"

"What's the attitude for, Stevens?" Van bit, "Knock it off…"

Stevens scoffed before walking away from the group, toward a darker corner to brood.

"The longer we sit here and bicker at each other, the long it takes for us to get that package. So how about we just shut the hell up and let Goodwin figure out our next moves, alright?" Taylor said and after no one said a word, he added, "Good. Commander?"

Goodwin had his hand at his mouth. He was deep in thought. "If I were to hide a package, I would hide it deep within somewhere. I would have it heavily guarded and fortified. So we can expect some heavy resistant. We need to locate somewhere that looks busy." He awoke from his muse and looked at Van and then Brigham, addressing them both, "How about you two show us how good you are at reconnaissance?"

A smile came across both of their faces and they complied willingly. They immediately found themselves long-ranged rifles and ammo. Goodwin handed them small ear buds. "Use these to communicate with us. We'll hear you loud and clear over these radio here. Once Sutton fixes it." Goodwin gave the hunched over Initiate a pat on the back.

"I've almost got it…" Sutton mused quietly.

"You got it, Commander." Brigham confirmed before gesturing at Van to follow. They exited the base hastily, leaving the rest of the division in silence. Stevens was leaned up against a wall with his arms folded tightly over his chest. As the rest of the division found something to busy themselves with, Lisette decided she would give Stevens hell for being an asshole to Goodwin.

Stevens was a good looking guy by Lisette's standard with short cropped black hair and strong facial features. But his eyes were always piercing and judging you. He was easily the most perpetually pissed member in their division, only after Oster was given the boot, of course. But, Lisette liked to push his buttons. She liked the challenge.

"What, Stevens? Upset you didn't get that Commander position?" Lisette jabbed with a smirk.

"Shut up, O'Brien. Like you give a shit." Stevens hit back.

Lisette leaned up against the wall next him, matching his stance. "I guess you don't have any trust in Knight Linderman's judgement."

He just shook his head.

"I'm sure you'll get another chance to prove yourself. He's just for today, remember?" She nudged him. "Lighten up a little bit. If it makes you feel any better, I was scared like the little girl I am to get into the VR pod."

Stevens gave a short laugh. "Yep. Sounds like you alright... Scared little girl."

She laughed too, ending the conversation with a pat on the back. He was tough but Lisette figured she could break through that to get him a little easier to deal with.

"O'Brien," Goodwin called from across the room, where he was rummaging through a weapons crate.

Lisette joined him. He pulled out a laser pistol and turned to address her. "I remember you being pretty good with one of these." Goodwin said, handing it over to her. She tested the weight of it in her hand.

"I'm the best shot here with one. The only person that maybe could beat me is Van." Lisette said.

Goodwin gave a weak smile. "Good. Take it as secondary weapon. When recon gets back to us on where we're going, you'll be support. The pistol's just in case we get a little too close than we want to."

"Got it."

Suddenly, the radio on the counter came to life with static and the familiar voice of Van. "Forward base, are you reading me?"

Sutton gave a soft laugh before tucking the wiring back into the radio's body. Goodwin joined Sutton at the radio.

Goodwin had a finger to his ear and he replied anxiously, "This is forward base, we're reading you Van, go ahead." Everyone gathered around the radio attentively listening for the reply.

After a brief silence, the reply came: "About half a mile northwest of you is a parking garage. Super mutants are crawling all over it. Is this our point of interest?"

"Affirmative. That has to be it. Any idea about entry?"

A brief silence and then: "I have no idea. But my best guess is -" Suddenly the feed cut.

Everyone bristled and Goodwin swallowed. "Van." Silence. "Brigham. Come in."

The radio crackled once before two words came through the static urgently: get down and an eruption of static.

All eyes were on Goodwin who had a blank, terrified look on his face. Lisette's stomach knotted. She knew this was VR but it felt too real. The silence was heavy around them.

"Let's go. Grab your gear and let's head out. Move." Goodwin commanded.

The division scrambled for the nearest rifle and ammo and filed out of the base with Goodwin in the lead. Lisette was close behind Goodwin. Her heart was hammering in her chest and her stomach filled with icy adrenaline. Adrenaline and fear was something Lisette had become very close to. Life in the Wasteland had taught her that but this was a different type of fear… a different type of adrenaline. This time, it wasn't her and her brother against unknown odds. It was her and her teammates, big, able men. Maybe she was misinterpreting the fear as excitement.

They could hear the gunfire in the near distance and they all broke into a run, guns ready. Northwest was all their direction. They didn't have a good idea of where to go so they were going to follow the gunfire and from the sounds of it, it wasn't a good sign for Brigham and Van.

It wasn't long before they too were under fire as they approached the point of interest. Bullets and plasma volleyed from all directions and they all scattered. Lisette was cowering behind a concrete barricade, while gunfire hailed all around her. She was frozen in place, gripping the laser rifle in her hands, her eyes sealed shut. She heard a few others in her division scream and heard Goodwin yell, "Regroup! Where is everyone!"

Then the next thing Lisette knew, she was being hoisted from where she was by her neck. A massive green hand gripped her with a strength that terrified her to her core. She screamed and choked against the hand, staring into it's evil yellow eyes as it laughed mercilessly.

"Found you!" It bellowed.

Then she was thrown forward. When she hit the ground, pain shot through her but it didn't feel like pain she remembered but it hurt nonetheless. All of the air was thrust from her lungs and her limbs went numb. She heaved for air. The horrible green monster lumbered towards her, sledgehammer at the ready.

Then a loud crack sounded, and the Super Mutant's head exploded into a pulpy mess and it fell lifeless to the ground. Lisette scrambled up, grabbing her laser rifle from the ground and resumed her position behind the concrete barricade. She took a deep breath, silently thanking whoever had saved her.

She peeked around the barricade and spotted a Super Mutant returning fire, facing a different direction. She brought up her rifle and fired three shots at it in quick succession. Two missed but the first one caught it right in the shoulder. It yowled in pain before spinning in her direction and spotting her.

"Human!" It roared and charged at her.

Again, she squeezed off two more shots before it dropped dead.

She popped the energy cell with a hiss and shoved another in its place.

Her eyes darted around as she desperately searched for her teammates. As silence fell onto the battleground, her fear began to mount. She didn't see anyone. Only a few Super Mutants hulking around, seeking their next victim.

An invisible hand gripped her throat and her hands began to sweat beneath her gloves.

She was alone. She didn't feel a single soul alive around her. Had everyone died? She couldn't believe it… Only a few minutes had passed and all hell had broken loose.

Lisette desperately missed her brother. She could almost feel his presence among the wreckage around her, like an echo amongst the stone. He was good with a rifle and a pretty good shot too. And he did all the shooting. He protected her and shielded her from it all. But now, she was without her brother and the one with the rifle. She resisted the urge to sob.

Then suddenly, there was a noise behind her. A footstep.

She whirled around, weapon raised. Van was at the end of her rifle with a single finger to his lips. He hunkered down beside her. Sweat rolled down his face and he was paled, as if he had seen a ghost. "Oh my god, O'Brien," he whispered, breathless, "I thought you were gonna get smashed by that Super Mutant!"

"Did you shoot it?" Her voice barely came from her throat.

He nodded.

She returned the nod, a silent thank-you. They were both overwhelmed and afraid.

"Where is everyone?" she whispered.

He shrugged. "I don't know… I think they're all dead…" The gravity of what he said hit Lisette hard in the chest.

"What are we gonna do?" She looked at him.

His eyes were wide and glossy. He was just as terrified as she was. She had never seen so much raw fear on someone's face. But there was another look in his eyes… Something she had never seen before. He brought his face close to hers and his gloved hand found her own. Lisette was frozen in place, unsure of what was about to happen.

And then, a giant hand had plucked her from the ground and held her with its death grip. All of the life seeped from her and she screamed.

Lisette woke, gasping and choking.

She was back in reality.

A massive headache began to throb at her temple and she laid back, exhausted. For a while, she laid there, letting her pounding heart return to normal. Her hand touched her face and her skin was tingling, as if it were electrified. The air around her was stiflingly still.

But her brain raced and the image of Van staring at her with those glossy eyes, hand in hers, burned into her memory. Her mouth went dry as her mind began to wonder what had come over him. She couldn't believe he had looked at her and touch her in that way.

The pod's lid clicked and with a hiss, lifted upward to release her. She sat up and climbed out of the pod, desperately wanting to get as far away from that thing as she could. The sickening feeling that followed her out of the pod was suffocating. Her chest and head hurt.

Van climbed out of his own pod and he didn't look at her.

The rest of the division silently emerged from their pods.

At the head of the room stood Knight Linderman and the Proctor. The Proctor was speaking vehemently to Knight Linderman who nodded, listening. The division all looked onto the pair for some sort of guidance. They were all exhausted and deflated and their excitement from earlier was long gone.

Eventually, Knight Linderman discovered his division looking longingly at him and he then addressed them, "Get some lunch, Senior Initiates. Debriefing will be at 1400."

1400, May 14, 2280, Citadel, VRT Debriefing Room 1A

Senior Knight Linderman's division sat before him and they were exhausted, he could see it in their faces. Despite nearly four hours had passed since they had finished the VRT lab, they still looked as if all of the life had been drained from them. He was partially to blame for that. Abrupt disconnection from the VRT could have that effect. But the situation was spiraling out of control too quickly, much quicker than he had originally anticipated. But they were naive and inexperienced and VRT wasn't even a fraction of what it was like doing it for real. There were no do-overs. Once you were dead, that was it.

He cleared his throat, gathering their attention and looked down at his clipboard, wondering where he should start. Judging by the looks on their faces, they couldn't have cared less. They wanted rest. But Linderman needed to instruct them.

"You all preformed as I expected… Solid beginning but once the action started, it fell apart," he paced in front of them as he spoke, "from this exercise, I was clearly able to see the team dynamic," he singled out Goodwin with his eyes, "Senior Initiate Goodwin, being a team commander is not easy and you handled it well," then he singled out Stevens with a piercing glare, "I don't care if you weren't happy with who I selected as commander, Senior Initiate Stevens. If you can't respect my appointment, then we have a problem. I don't tolerate behavior like that. Is that understood?"

"Yes, sir!" he replied.

Linderman gave a nod before continuing, "There's a reason I only gave you the objective and little guidance and the reason for that is because the best way to learn is by trial and error. Since you are all privileged with VRT, you can use that system of learning. I've held your hands through most of your training and now, I'm letting you walk and run on your own. As a team, you need to learn how to communicate accurately, create plans and execute them properly. None of you did either of those things, which is why only two of you remained at the end of the simulation." He looked at O'Brien, "Senior Initiate O'Brien, tell us all what it felt like to be grabbed and thrown around by a Super Mutant."

All eyes were on O'Brien. She avoided the many eyes that were suddenly on her and replied quietly, "It was horrifying…"

Linderman looked at Sutton, "Senior Initiate Sutton, tell us all what it felt like to be trampled and gored with a metal pipe." All eyes shifted to Sutton.

Sutton, like O'Brien avoided the eyes that were on him. He replied, "It was horrible, sir."

"VRT is not meant to scare you. It's meant to provide an example of what you may encounter outside these walls. It's not scary if it's reality. The Wasteland and all its creatures are ruthless. They won't spare you as I did today. The sooner you realize that, the more prepared you will be." He paused, allowing that to sink in before continuing, "You had direction. You all found the location of the package but you weren't able to get far enough to retrieve it. Having a plan on how to accomplish the task at hand is important. But what's more important is to be adaptative. In a situation like today, things go haywire quickly. There was no room for adapting to the circumstances. It was just reaction after reaction and eventually its results caught up with you." He felt like he was talking to a brick wall but he knew they were listening. But he wanted to make sure his words hit home.

He called them to. They erupted from their chairs and came to attention. "Initiates, I don't want you to become discouraged! This is only the beginning to a long journey ahead. I have complete confidence in every single one of you. I've never doubted that for a moment. Is that understood, Initiates?"

"Yes sir!" They chorused.

"This is not easy, but it is imperative that you understand the gravity of your position. Find the courage inside of you to try harder than you ever have before! Courage and valiance will take you far. As Brothers of Steel, we fight for the Brotherhood! Is that understood, Initiates?"

"Yes sir!" They chorused, louder this time.

"Tomorrow morning we will begin power armor training. Get some rest, Initiates. You are dismissed." And with that, they saluted their training commander and fell out of formation, and departed the debriefing room in silence.

That left the Knight standing there with only the heavy silence that came over the concrete room. He gathered his items and found his way to his office for some downtime. He spent several hours alone, typing away on his terminal and preparing lessons for the next day's training.

Before he knew it, it was dinner time and he was pretty hungry since he had skipped lunch. He took a clipboard to the mess hall to continue his work. Once he entered the mess hall around 1800, his Initiates were already at the buffet line, getting their meals. He received a tray of his own and found a table in a quiet corner of the mess hall.

His tray contained a section filled with chunks of meat in a rich brown gravy, another section filled with a mound of grain, and another filled with an assortment fruit preserved in a sugary syrup. The mess hall's food wasn't gourmet but it was substantial and filled the stomach. He began to eat, looking over the clipboard he had brought with him.

He ate and finished his meal in silence, occasionally glancing over to a table where his Initiates were seated together. They too ate their meal in silence, conversation sparse. They would be rested in the morning, besides, power armor training is what every Initiate lives for.

After dinner had been served, the mess hall officer proceeded to clean up his buffet line. The Initiates finished their meals and departed for their bunkhouse. However, O'Brien stayed behind to assist the mess hall officer in clean up. She had nearly completed her hours of mess hall duty. In fact, she had one more day to go before she was done. He hadn't heard any complaints from the mess hall officer about her assistance so that must have been good.

However, he didn't get up and return to his office. He remained in the mess hall and watched O'Brien clean tables and chat away with the mess hall officer. Her hair had been shaved short again, so short her scalp was peaking beneath her black hair. Less hair means less maintenance. Once Initiates cleared for Knighthood, they could decide to have their hair in whatever fashion they wanted. Knight Linderman preferred to have more hair than most but he kept it clean.

He sat and looked at her and really looked at her. She had filled out her frame and the bones at her elbows and shoulders were less protruding than before. Her face was less sunken and more full and round. Her muscles and curves were defined and ample. She, frankly, looked very healthy. When she had first begun training, he wasn't sure how well physically she would fare but with a generous three meals a day, good sleep and proper exercise; she was proving to be very able.

She was unaware of his eyes. He could only see her profile but she had a remarkable smile. The way her lips curled and her eyes even smiled... Her expressions were genuine and content. She really was…

Linderman stopped himself and tore his gaze away from her and back to his clipboard. How embarrassing it would have been if she had caught him looking at her the way he had been. His gut twisted in a way he hadn't felt in a very long time. He had to stop himself.

It was only a few minutes later when he looked up yet again but this time, he caught gaze with her. She was approaching him with a soapy rag in her hand and a slight smile on her face. "You do realize everyone else is gone, right?" she asked sarcastically.

Why had he stayed there? Why had he? He had to remind himself and… he didn't know why. Something was compelling him to stay, though he wasn't sure what. But he soon realized he just wanted to talk to her so he decided he would be frank. "I wanted to speak with you." He said finally.

One of her black eyebrows arched in question. "Okay? About what?"

"Sit down," He offered the seat across from him. She took it, tossing the rag into the table. He continued, "What did you think of VRT? Is it realistic enough?"

Her eyes darted away from his own and she scratched her cheek. He sensed there was something running through her head. He had some ideas but decided he would refrain from prodding. Finally, she replied, "It's definitely realistic. Reminds me of… well, before all of this. It's made me really appreciate the safety and security here. Everyone else is taking it a lot harder than I am. It's not anything that I haven't seen or experienced before though. It just… brought back a lot of bad memories."

"It's an eye opener for most Initiates," he said, "the Wasteland is a nasty place and the only way to safely introduce that is VRT."

"It's weird because…" she began, disregarding what he had said. He watched as her face fell and assumed a more grimer look, "I always had my brother beside me and me being there trying to do the shooting felt backwards…" her head dropped, "what I would do to see him again…"

That's when Linderman suddenly remembered the conversation he had with Star Paladin Connelly. He remembered her saying that making the promise of finding her brother was the only way she could get O'Brien to conform. The more he thought about that, the more wrong and evil it sounded. And the more he began to believe that it was a lie. He saw the sadness on O'Brien's face when she recalled her brother. He saw the hurt and found himself desperately wanting to fix it… even though he knew it was not his place.

"I'm sure he's okay. If you two managed to survive this long on your own, he's okay." he assured her with solidarity. It was all he could say. She lifted her head and looked at him with scanning eyes and a slight smile creeping onto her lips.

"Look at you trying to be a cheerleader." she laughed dryily.

He shrugged. "I care about the wellness of my trainees." The way the words came out made it sound very unconvincing that it was his motive. And her face reflected that uncertainty with a smirk.

"Uh-huh." she said.

Linderman decided he would change the subject, less personal and more professional. "Star Paladin Connelly informed me that you two got started on power armor training. How do you like it?" he asked.

"It's alright. Weird as hell," she replied, "I'm figuring it's one of those things that takes practice to get used to."

"Yes, it definitely does. It becomes a second skin after a while."

"How long did it take you to get so good at it?" she prodded with a sly grin, "You make it look so natural."

He felt his face burn and he didn't know why. They're talking about power armor, not flirting. Get ahold of yourself, Erik… he thought to himself. "Well, it's been about seven years. I started when I was eighteen. It came easily to me."

She gave a small laugh before she gave him one last curt nod and resumed her cleaning. She wiped his table down and said, "You're really bad at small talk." With that, she turned and joined the mess hall officer at the buffet line.

Bad at small talk? Linderman didn't know what she meant by that... He wasn't trying to small talk with her. Or was he?

He didn't dwell on it, but rather pushed it to the back of his mind. He gathered his things and found his way back to his office to continue his work.

0830, May 15, 2280, Citadel, Armory, Armor Garage

The following morning, Lisette and her rest of his division were restlessly residing in the armor garage. They were all dressed in similar attire, the familiar orange servo-suits that Lisette had worn a few days prior. The entire division stood around, admiring the many suits of armor around them. It wasn't new to Lisette but the rest of her division chattered to one another excitedly. Van and Goodwin stood on either side of Lisette as the trio admired a tall suit of armor in front of them, lifelessly suspended in its chassis.

"Isn't it beautiful?" Goodwin remarked with a lustrous smile.

"Beautiful and deadly." Van added, "these things make you like those superheroes in those pre-war comic books we read sometimes. Fast, strong and powerful."

"They're weird." Lisette jumped in.

The two men gave her an incredulous look for her offbeat comment. "Weird?" Goodwin asked, "why are they weird?"

"I've already been in one so I know what it's like."

"What? How?" Van demanded.

"Star Paladin Connelly showed me how to get into one the other day. It's weird but still pretty cool."

Van shook his head, "You and Star Paladin Connelly... She's always given me the heebie-jeebies. Something about her eyes makes you think she's gonna accuse you of breaking some sort of rule you've never heard of. I wouldn't want to be her friend..."

"Well, Van, when you've been in the Brotherhood for over twenty years, I'm sure you wouldn't be all cheerful and bubbly either..." Goodwin said.

"I guess I'm more surprised that she's actually sponsoring you. I'm sure she's got loads to do being a Star Paladin." Van added, disregarding Goodwin's sarcastic remark.

Lisette replied, "You and me both. I don't know why she even bothers with me half the time."

That's when all attention was brought to the entryway of the armor garage as Senior Knight Linderman entered. As he strode in, Lisette couldn't help but stare at him. She remembered their conversation from the day prior and remembered the way he looked at her and spoke to her. There was something different in his eyes, something she couldn't quite place and was almost too scared to try and figure out. She didn't mind poking fun at him and making him feel just a little uncomfortable. But she was just poking fun at him the other day, right? Somehow, she had to convince herself that it was the truth. But, she had to admit, as he strode in dressed in a similar orange servo suit, she couldn't help but admire his figure. He was a very well put-together man with broad shoulders and full muscles. His eyes scanned over her and she immediately averted her eyes. Lisette, don't you even start thinking like that… especially not about him. She pushed the thoughts into the back her mind.

"Good morning, Senior Initiates!" he called to his division to him with a beckon. "Form up!" The division fell into formation, like pieces fitting into a puzzle, easy and quick. They stood at attention, waiting for direction.

"Today, we will begin our first lesson in power armor training. Power armor has proven itself to be an extremely effective tool to the Brotherhood, especially in combat. It's what completes our image. Power armor allows for increased strength and radiation resistance. Not only that, it also enables you to take up more damage without sustaining any personal injuries. Knights that have the privilege to take power armor into battle are impervious to foes and provide an upper hand in any situation. When you become a Knight someday, you will receive your own suit of power armor, personally tailored to your stature. Senior Initiates, I will only say this once, these suits are for general use only and for us, training purposes. By no means will I or anyone else in the Citadel, catch any of you stealing these suits and going for a joy ride, is that understood?"

"Yes, sir!" the division chorused.

"Good. I've never had that problem before but there's always a first for everything… Before we begin, I want to bring attention to the suits you are wearing. They're servo suits. If you don't wear it, the power armor won't recognize your body movements. Always wear this suit if you are going to be in power armor. Now, the way you will enter the power armor is from the back. There is a wheel that you will turn and release the plates. They will open enough for you to get inside and once you're inside, it will enclose around you. Got it? Fall out."

And with that the division dispersed and went to the various suits of power armor around them. Lisette was joined by Van who nudged her playfully, "Ready for this? Try not to chicken out this time."

Lisette couldn't help but remember what had happened in VRT, or what almost happened, between herself and Van. Her mind had been running wild about him and what he had intended to do. She remembered his eyes, his hand on hers, and his approaching face. Eventually, she had decided to chock it up to raging adrenaline. She didn't have any interest in him whatsoever, not like that. Granted, he had been nice to her but she saw him as more of a good, dare she say, friend. But nothing more.

She scoffed. "Oh, I should be saying that to you! I know how these suits work and like I said, they're weird."

Without much thought, Lisette recalled her training from a few days prior with Star Paladin Connelly and hopped into the suit of armor with ease. The suit enveloped her and it came to life. Conditioned, metallic air filled the narrow cavities between her skin and the suit and gave her a slight chill. Van watched her with wide eyes.

Her voice came filtered through the helmet, "Easy enough." she said.

"Wow," Van swallowed hard, "you make that look easy…"

"Oh come on, VRT is way scarier than this. Give it a shot!"

Van approached the posterior side of the suit of armor to her right. As he fumbled behind it with the wheel, she took a step forward and then another, and then looked at the rest of her division. They were all fumbling with their suits of armor, and a few, Stevens mainly, glared at her in envy before calling out, "O'Brien's not even from here and she's outdoing all of us." He gave a caustic grin before clambering into his own suit.

Knight Linderman had already gotten into his own suit and approached her with a purposeful stride. She squared off with him and he addressed her with a good smack on the shoulder. "Looks like you've got it down, O'Brien. Good job. One less Initiate to teach." With that, he continued past her and began to help Sutton who was struggling with the wheel on his suit.

Eventually, after a few minutes, the entire division was outfitted and the armory garage was dominated by eight, hulking individuals. The air was electric and everyone, beside O'Brien, nervously moved around in their suits, mesmerized by the way it felt around them. It truly was a feeling like none other. It made you feel powerful and unstoppable and that was something Lisette was becoming more and more comfortable with.

Knight Linderman led the division up to the bailey for some more room. Once there, he allowed them to test out whatever they wanted to and for the first time, he told them to have fun. And the division did just that. With a newfound energy, the division moved, ran, and jumped, testing their abilities. Lisette, Goodwin and Van were standing together, tossing around a rubber ball, attempting to tune their dexterity.

"It's like this thing has a mind of it's own!" Goodwin cried as he expertly caught the ball before tossing it to Van who did the same.

"You were right, O'Brien, this thing really is weird." Van said.

"What did I tell you!" she laughed, "weirdest thing I've ever done, that's for sure. And I'm from the Wasteland so that should say something."

"Can you believe we'll be able to go out into battle with these things? I honestly can't imagine fighting in one…" Goodwin said.

"Me neither, but I would definitely appreciate the hell out of it. If this thing would take the bullets instead of my own body, I'm forever thankful. It means less dying." Van replied.

"Someday, we'll be gallant Knights of Steel, fighting for the good of the Wasteland!" Goodwin gave a hearty laugh, "Knight Harvey Goodwin… ahh, that sounds so nice doesn't it?"

The trio laughed and continued to toss the rubber ball to one another.

Never in a million years did Lisette ever think she would be in the middle of the safest part of the Wasteland, in power armor, and tossing around a rubber ball to two people she could safely call her friends. All of what had happened in the past month had been surreal. Every time Lisette laid in her bunk for bed, she imagined she would wake up the next morning to the desolate Wasteland around her. Instead, however, she would wake up to concrete walls and a bunk above her. She had taken an opportunity that people only dreamed of and somehow, it had all fallen into place just right… all at the cost of her brother. Her hopes of finding him were diminishing and going fast. She was beginning to come to terms with the idea that her brother really was dead and there was nothing she could do to fix that. She had done a lot of crying late at night about it but now she was starting to realize that maybe her life here as a Sister of Steel was right for her.

She had made up her mind.

She would fully embrace the Brotherhood and become one of them.

1542, May 15, 2280, Citadel, Laboratory

After what seemed like ages, Elder Dimitri finally had a lead on the stolen T-51b armor and he was ecstatic. Star Paladin Connelly reported that traders had seen a suit of unusual power armor making its way to one of the largest trading hubs in the Capital Wasteland, Wakefield. He hadn't heard much of Wakefield, only that it was between Andale and what remained of Fairfax and was predominantly a Wastelander settlement. From what he could gather, traders had somehow managed to get a hold of it and someone was going to be rich selling that suit.

Elder Dimitri knew there was only one option: intercept it, apprehend it before it could be sold and moved again. But he didn't want to send Star Paladin Connelly alone, he wanted a team to extract it. However, he needed men he could trust on the job. The name that continued to come to his mind was Senior Knight Linderman. But he was busy training his division and it would take a dire situation to remove him from that.

He liked the Senior Knight. He had proven himself well during the disciplinary hearing and he trained his Initiates well, despite what the Head Scribe had said in regards to him. Initiates would be Initiates; there was no way around that. However, it had been well over a week since the hearing and all seemed well. And it was especially so since there was a new lead on the armor's location.

Elder Dimitri examined the large map in the laboratory and found the coordinates of Wakefield. As expected, it was almost directly between Andale and Fairfax. It was directly west of the Citadel and from the looks of it, wouldn't be too far to travel on foot, about half a day at the most. His only reserve about the location of Wakefield was its proximity to Fort Independence, the headquarters of the Brotherhood Outcasts. It had been four years since the Outcasts had split from the Brotherhood and Elder Dimitri was glad they kept to themselves. Those who split had their focus on preserving pre-war technology, a goal that the Brotherhood still upheld but not to the extent the Outcasts took it. They had no interest in eradicating the Super Mutants, despite the FEV virus being an absurd misuse of technology in itself, and they especially had no interest in anyone but themselves. Elder Dimitri had witnessed the schism when under Elder Lyons and it had been a relatively peaceful split.

Despite little Outcast activity detected, Elder Dimitri still didn't feel entirely comfortable with the thought that their headquarters was only a few miles away from Wakefield. He wondered if the settlement encountered the Outcasts often and he hoped, for their sake, it was minimal.

He, unfortunately, didn't have a choice. If anything, a team needed to be sent immediately to ensure the armor's safety. He hoped that the Outcasts didn't stick their noses in the direction of Wakefield because it was almost certain that they would take the opportunity to snag a fully-preserved suit of T-51b armor.

Again, he found himself asking the same question: who would he send? How many men would he send? He knew he ought to send Star Paladin Connelly but who else would she willingly work with? She was incredibly independent and preferred a lone-wolf approach above all else. But to Elder Dimitri, it was a good way to get yourself killed. He never understood why she liked it that way.

Then, he figured he would consult with the Head Scribe, or at least give him the pleasure of knowing that Star Paladin Connelly finally had some good news. His trust in her was dwindling and understandably so. It would be a good thing to hear.

It had been a few days since he had one-on-one contact with the Head Scribe and after his behavior at the disciplinary hearing, he had kept his mouth shut and himself out of the spotlight. Elder Dimitri didn't refrain from letting the Head Scribe know how incredibly childish and unprofessional he had been after the hearing. In fact, he had spent nearly half an hour explaining to him why he was so ridiculous. Yes, he had bias since one of the individual's in question was his daughter but in order for him to make a decisive judgement, he had to remove that bias. And he didn't do that. But he knew that the Elder was right and that he was in the wrong, and like a hurt animal, he refrained from showing himself around the Citadel.

The Head Scribe had confined himself to his office in the meantime and as the Elder came to it, he gave the door a buzz. A few seconds passed with no answer. He didn't think much of it so he buzzed again. And again. Nothing. It wasn't unusual for the Head Scribe to take afternoon naps. But he figured after three buzzes, he would wake up. After a fourth attempt with no response, he reached into his robe pocket and pulled out a master keycard.

When Elder Dimitri opened the door, the Head Scribe was seated at his desk, face down, not moving. Maybe he was napping. When he approached the desk, there was a metallic smell in the air.

Blood.

Hurriedly, he shook the Head Scribe. He was stiff and cold. And when he lifted his head, blood spilled from his mouth and his eyes were glossed over. His abdomen was a bloody mess.

He was dead.