Piper had spent the last week waiting in Sanctuary Hills; Preston had described it as "The General's number one bolt hole."
If Allen was going to turn up anywhere it would be there. But after a week without so much as sign from Allen, Piper was getting restless. Luckily, Preston was there to keep her busy.
"Help me build this turret, Piper,' or 'you burnt dinner, Piper,' or 'let me help, Piper,' or even 'for the love of God stop taking notes when you should be on watch.'" Any given combination of the above filled her days. It drove her crazy. Luckily for her (and unluckily for someone else), a flare went off somewhere relatively nearby, and Preston insisted the two of them check it out.
"We don't have to rush," Preston explained, "It was a green flare."
"I don't know what that means."
"A couple of weeks ago the General got this nifty idea; different colored flares, red for emergencies, green for assistance required, and blue for update requested."
"So as long as we don't stop for drinks along the way?" Piper asked.
"That's about the gist of it."
"Do you know what settlement asked for help?"
"Either Oberland Station or Vault 81."
"Vault 81 is allied with the Minutemen?"
"They didn't turn down the flare gun," Preston answered with a shrug, "That's all I need."
"I have a question." Piper said suddenly.
"Personal or professional?" Preston asked.
"Personal."
"Ask away," Preston said with a wave of his hand.
"What's your opinion of Allen?"
"He's a good fighter, a better man, and I'd die for him in a heartbeat," Preston said simply.
Piper frowned. "There has to be more to it than that."
"Why?"
"Don't you worry about him? Doesn't it make you nervous how easily he lies, how quickly he leaves us behind? How he seems to always be biting off more than he can chew?"
"Piper, when I first met him, he killed over dozen raiders before I even saw him. He then decided against using power armor and killed a dozen more. He even outmaneuvered a death claw long enough to gut it. After seeing a sight like that you tend to stop worrying about someone's health and welfare." Preston explained. He spoke with simplicity; everything was simple to Preston, lives need saving, raiders need killing, Minutemen need rebuilding, Allen had a good heart and better aim. Piper was a little jealous of the simple world Preston lived in.
"Well, I saw him go days without sleeping, pop mentats like gum, and pass out from sheer exhaustion. After seeing that you tend not to stop worrying about someone's health." Piper was still an optimist, after all Diamond city threw at her, she still believed in people. It was just that after seeing all the bad that people set out to do, it made her a bit cynical.
"He's rebuilt the Minutemen from nothing, in one month he's done more than the founders did in ten."
"Is it that simple to you?" Piper asked, incredulously.
"Does it need to be complicated?" Preston asked, equally exasperated at the conversation.
Piper replied with a sigh, "I guess not."
The two continued onward, towards the source of the flare, now in silence.
As it turned out, it was Vault 81 that needed help. One of the children there had fallen ill and the only lead they had involved going into a previously unknown part of the vault. They had tried to go themselves but their security wasn't trained for that kind of thing; they had barely escaped alive.
Fortunately, Piper and Preston were a bit better at the whole "Killing Mole Rats" game. Unfortunately, things like computer-locked doors were a bit beyond the pair.
"Okay, so tell me," Preston said, looking through a desk. "What's your opinion of the General."
"He's a good man, but he keeps too many secrets." Piper answered, checking between couch cushions.
"He's a spy, it's probably second nature to him," Preston commented.
"Wait," Piper exclaimed, "You know he's a spy? When did he tell you?"
"Soon after we met, why?" Preston asked.
"It took at least two weeks for him to tell me and he tells you in two days."
"I'm a Minuteman, Piper, a soldier. He probably felt a sense of camaraderie." Preston comforted.
"He's my friend," Piper complained to no one, "I wish he'd stop pushing me away."
"Is that all he is to you?" Preston hinted.
"He's not a story if that's what you're implying," Piper snapped, wanting to stop that train before it left the station.
"It's not, but it also answers my question."
Piper decided she was getting real sick of people being cryptic. In her frustration, she shouted, "Where's that goddamn password!"
"Got the door unlocked," someone replied from behind.
It was a male voice, but Preston was right next to her.
"Blue? Is that you?" Piper called.
"Yup!" He shouted back. "I saw the flare on my way back, figured I'd make a pit-stop."
"Did you hear our conversation?" Preston asked, a little worried he was caught gossiping about his commanding officer.
"All I heard was yelling about a password."
Both Preston and Piper were relieved to hear it.
The trio and a new guest returned but had to wait to see if the cure would work on little Austin, the boy from the Vault. In the meantime, Allen was talking with the new arrival, a Miss Nanny model named Curie.
"The world's changed, Curie" Allen lectured "Things like 'healthcare, the scientific community,' or even the goddamn 'scientific method' are either gone entirely or warped beyond recognition, I don't know if what you're looking for can be found."
"I understand that, Monsieur, but I am determined to pursue it anyway," the robot warbled.
"Well then, welcome aboard." Allen said as he held out his hand. Piper was going to say something but Curie seemed to understand well enough, putting one of her pincers in his hand, and shaking.
"What's our next step, General."
"First we need to find, Nick. He has the same right to hear this as anyone."
"Hear what?" Curie asked.
"Our next objective, and it might just get all of us killed."
"What else is new?" Piper said, flippantly, as much as she like Allen and Preston she was sick of being left out of their plans.