Squire Lost

The Mysterious Stranger Returns

When the sun went down in the Commonwealth, everything became pitch black extremely fast. It was one of the first things Luke learned about the Post War world aside from the fact that the bugs had become massive and unbelievably aggressive. The pure unadulterated darkness was one of the main reasons he didn't leave his settlements at night unless he absolutely had to. Due to his impaired vision, he did good identifying and eliminating quick moving threats in the daylight. At night he was practically blind.

A candle burned on a table a few feet away. It doused his corner of the living room in a warm, dim glow. Codsworth must have left it for him—meaning he'd given the the Mister Handy reason to worry again. He had no doubt that he'd been tossing and turning in his sleep—his blanket was lying on the floor and his pillow was bunched up in an uncomfortable lump. Being the good host that he was, he'd put Maxson up in his room and had slept on the couch. He could blame the couch for his lack of sleep, but he didn't really sleep that much better in a bed either. There were just some things that a man couldn't unsee and other things he seemed destined to relive every time he closed his eyes.

The frame of the couch creaked as Luke rolled over and futilely attempted to adjust the pillow he was sleeping on. Despite what the locals called it, he hardly considered it 'comfy'. Pulling it out from under his head, he balled it up in frustration before dropping it and letting it fall across his face. He let his arms fall limply to his sides and he groaned into the dingy white fabric. The knuckles of his right hand hit the coarse, cool floor and he grimaced as a dull ache spread up towards his wrist. His joints, especially those in his extremities, had never quite been the same since he'd contracted Molerat Disease. They ached when he tried to move them first thing in the morning, they ached when he bumped into things, they ached when the weather changed, and most of all they ached when he was in close proximity to molerats—as if he were having an odd reaction to them. Despite his discomfort, he left his arm hanging there. He wasn't comfortable but he didn't expect he'd get any more sleep so it hardly mattered—he hadn't had a full night's sleep in over 200 years.

There was a time before the Great War where he'd been evaluated and kept medicated due to the flashbacks that plagued his waking world and the nightmares that haunted his sleep. Even though Nora knew his distress, he tried to downplay it as much as possible. Those deemed too psychologically damaged in society were often used as test subjects for the government's scientists. Not that Nora would have ever handed him over, but if word of his debilitating anxiety problems had gotten out, he might have become a target—it wasn't unusual for problem citizens to just disappear without a trace. Truth be told, the entire time he was helping clear Parson's State and the interior of Med Tek, he couldn't shake the nagging feeling that had he not kept so quiet about his personal issues, he could've very easily become one of the deceased or deranged test subjects that he'd encountered while on his quests.

He closed his eyes tightly. Some of the settlers had such romanticized views of how things were before the war but he knew better. As dangerous as this life was, he knew that his old life wasn't really any safer. When anyone pressed the subject, he compared his fear of the old government to their fear of the Institute—it was a comparison that really seemed to resonate.

Through the patched walls and reinforced ceiling, he could hear one of the turrets on the roof. Sanctuary was a far cry from its once idyllic past, but it had become quite coveted by the those that meant the Minutemen harm. Even though the entire neighborhood was encompassed by a perimeter wall, a river, and an occasionally wet creek bed, it was better to be safe than sorry. Turrets reinforced the front and back gates, adorned the perimeter wall, and sat on almost every rooftop in the bustling settlement. The only Minutemen settlements with more security were Starlight and Castle.

He could hear footsteps down the hall. Judging by the gait, he assumed Maxson was up and pacing again. The Elder paced a lot. He had far too many troubles for someone who was barely 21—not that Luke was that much older than him.

"You talk in your sleep." Maxson's voice was uncharacteristically quiet, but that still didn't keep it from startling Luke in the darkness. He jolted up to a sitting position and clutched the pillow tightly in his hand.

"You pace a lot," Luke countered. He took slow breaths trying to calm his racing heart. He got a grunt of a response out of Maxson for stating the obvious. Even with the candle burning, he could barely make out Maxson's massive silhouette across the living room. "What do I say?" he asked.

"It was incoherent," Maxson stated. "You spoke of some edge and something under a hill. The rest was unintelligible."

Luke closed his eyes and held the bridge of his nose between his thumb and index finger. "Edge and Underhill were soldiers," he whispered. "We were deployed together in Alaska. They didn't make it home."

Maxson pulled a stool out away from the island and sat on it. "A soldier's life often requires sacrifice," he offered. "It is a difficult life, not everyone is suited for it."

"Most of us didn't have a choice," Luke told him. "If you could pass a basic physical and fire a gun the Army would take you. So many were sacrificed, and for what? The world went nuclear anyway."

Outside there was commotion. Luke wasn't too concerned because the turrets weren't firing. He could hear Codsworth's propulsion system and various arm motors as he moved around, but for whatever reason he wasn't coming inside. Something was going on and it was a welcome distraction from the conversation he'd gotten himself into. Luke held up a hand to halt the conversation and listened closely.

"I beg your pardon sir, but I live here." Codsworth's tone suggested that whatever had insulted him had offended him all the way down to his nuclear power unit.

Tossing his pillow into the armchair he stood up. He moved slowly to allow his aching joints to adjust to the shift in body weight before he walked over to the front door. It was still quite dark out but he could make out a knight in power armor thanks to the streetlight at the end of the driveway. From the look of it, he seemed to be denying Codsworth entry to the house—protecting Maxson no doubt. Grinning at the thought of how irritated Codsworth probably was, Luke pulled open the door and leaned against the door frame.

"What did you do this time?" he teased the robot.

"Mister Luke, I didn't do anything I assure you. This man won't permit me to pass."

Luke grinned. "He's fine. He's with me," he told the Knight. Luke held the door for Codsworth and stared at the Knight—daring him to protest.

"I didn't expect to find the both of you up so early," Codsworth said as he picked up the blanket and draped it over the back of the couch. "I expected Mister Luke to rise early but that's hardly unusual. Do you require another pillow or blanket Mister Maxson? It gets a bit drafty this time of the year."

Maxson shook his head to dismiss him.

"Perhaps I could whip you up some breakfast. We have plenty of fresh fruits and vegetables, or perhaps you'd prefer some preservative-rich food? Fancy Lads snack cakes and the like." Luke closed the door and grinned. It was amusing to listen to Codsworth fuss over someone other than him—the fact that he was fussing over Maxson made it even funnier. "...scrambled eggs perhaps? We have enough mirelurk eggs to feed a small army—and I should know because I helped feed the troops after they successfully defended Castle against the Institute." Codsworth chuckled. "What do you say?"

"Just whatever you have that'll be quick," Luke told Codsworth. "I want to try to get an early start on the search."

"Fancy Lads it is then," Codsworth said as he pulled a box down from the cabinet and held it out for Maxson. When the young Elder didn't immediately take it, he continued to hold it out for him. "Be careful around Mister Luke—he doesn't like to share his sweets."

Luke grinned as Maxson took the box. "Alright, you."

Appeased that Maxson wasn't going to go hungry, Codsworth retrieved another box for Luke and handed it to him. "And do get your glasses on, you won't find anyone walking around the Commonwealth blind as a bat."

"I found you," Luke mumbled playfully under his breath.

"Actually sir, if I remember correctly you walked past me while I was trimming the hedges. Had I not called out to you, why, I don't know how far you might've wandered," the Mister Handy said as he retrieved Luke's glasses and brought them to him.

Luke sighed as he slid the glasses on. He'd been trying to downplay his vision issues—especially in front of Maxson—but clearly Codsworth was unaware. "Happy?"

"Elated, sir," the Mister Handy replied.

"Sarcasm? Where did you pick that up?" Luke asked.

"From you, sir," Codsworth said as he brought Luke his boots.

"Of course," Luke said as he sat on the edge of the couch and began pulling his boots on. "Hey Maxson, do you have any objections to leaving before dawn? If we time it right we can be at Taffington just as the sun is coming up."

"Not at all. I'll have the Lancer prepare the vertibird," Maxson said as he stood.

Lacing his other boot, Luke watched as the Elder stepped out the front door. Standing up, he slowly stretched before going over to the trunk under the window and opening it up. Removing some of his favorite pieces of leather armor, he pulled them out and began to put them on.

"Do be careful, Mister Luke," Codsworth told him.

"I will," he assured the Mister Handy. "The suit I've got stored at Taffington is suited to the area. It has a brighter headlamp and tesla coils."

"Very well, sir."

Leaving Codsworth to his early morning routine, Luke slipped down the hallway and peered into Shaun's room. A lantern illuminated the far corner of the room, lighting the rest of the space just enough for him to navigate. Dogmeat's head popped up from behind Shaun's sleeping body. Luke lightly patted his thigh and then waited as the shepherd jumped down from the bed and made his way over.

"Ready to go on a mission boy?" Luke whispered as he knelt down.

Dogmeat started to bark but Luke closed his mouth.

"Shh, don't wake Shaun. Come on boy, we've got a Squire out there that we need to find."

Dogmeat let out a muffled woof.

Luke smiled as he stood. "Let's get going then."

The early morning sky was still dark and the haze—caused by the Brotherhood's vicious assault on the Malden ruins—blocked out the stars. The fighting had died off hours ago but the smell of gunpowder and burnt plaster lingered in the air, mixing with the smells of mud, rust, and wet timber. Declan lay motionless in the mud at the base of a reinforced junk wall. His cries for help had been weak and airy at best, and had been easily drown out by the people, turrets, and brahmin on the inside.

A lone figure made his way along the hilltop, his footsteps silent as he neared the settlement and knelt by Declan's side. He reached down and checked Declan's pulse before adjusting his hat and looking around. His gaze lingered on an overhead turret that was trained on him. It would be hours before there was enough light for a passing provisioner to spot him, and it was highly unlikely any of the settlers inside would notice him thanks to the General's wall.

Scooping Declan up into his arms, he carried the boy out towards the road. The last thing he needed was to emerge from the darkness and haze too close to one of the guard posts and get one of them accidentally shot. He carried him along the road, making no effort to hide his presence from the security lights or the guards. He stopped walking where a muddy footpath met the pavement. A security light focused on him, and he could hear a guard call out for assistance. He kept his gaze low, allowing the brim of his hat to hide his face in shadow.

"Hey!" the guard yelled down. "Who are you? What's your business at Greentop?"

The stranger didn't answer. He just watched the rise and fall of Declan's chest. Satisfied that he had the settlement's attention, he knelt down, his trenchcoat falling into the mud. He carefully placed Declan on the ground, ignoring the guard's questions. For a moment Declan opened his eyes and stared at him, but they fluttered closed again when the stranger stood and was no longer blocking him from the security light.

"I asked you a question!" the guard insisted. "Where did you go?"

As stealthily as the stranger had arrived, he'd also disappeared. Declan was left lying on the rocky mud struggling to get his bearings and trying to figure out what was going on.

"There's someone outside!" the guard called down to the settlers below. "It's a kid!"

The gate popped and creaked as it slowly opened. A big black dog squeezed her way through the gates when they started to part and a young floppy-eared shepherd ran after her, barking excitedly. The dogs reached him first. Lying on his back, Declan grimaced as he slowly sat up. His left leg hurt terribly so he shifted his weight to lean more on the right side of his body. While it helped at alleviating some of the pain, it caused his right hand to sting. He fell down to his elbow and propped himself up as the animals bore down on him.

The black dog immediately began licking his face and stepped on his injured hand. Declan cried out and then shoved her back with what little strength he had. The dog was undeterred and he quickly pulled his hand closer to his body as she moved in to continue where she'd left off. He tried to push her back again but was too weak. Letting his left hand fall limply onto his side he scrunched his nose, looked down, and just conceded defeat. He wiped at the side of his face with his shoulder. Since leather wasn't the most absorbent material all he managed to do was smear her saliva across his cheek. As his eyes focused a little under the spotlight, he could see teeth, tongue, and a scarred black snout. The animal was obviously friendly, but it's breath reeked.

"Stop it," he protested weakly as the dog resumed licking his face. His fingers found the chain around her neck and he clung to it, using it to help hold himself up. Finally upright, he clung to the dog and laid his head against the animal's shoulder. He slid his other arm around the dog's body and just sat still. The dog stopped licking him and stood over him as if she were standing guard. He could make out a few figures approaching him with guns drawn. He closed his eyes and prepared for the worst.

"There's a kid out there!" the guard continued yelling. "Seriously. This mysterious stranger just dropped him at the gate and then disappeared!"

Declan closed his eyes as he leaned against the big dog. They weren't shouting threats or obscenities, their dogs weren't attacking him...he had to be at one of the Minutemen settlements. As the figures surrounded him, he began to cry.

A woman dressed in rags knelt beside him. Her hands patted down his shoulders and arms, checking for injuries. She held him at an arm's length, trying to assess his condition. Someone else arrived seconds later and took hold of the dog's collar and pulled her back so that the other settlers could lift Declan up. A few of the others turned and went along the settlement walls with their guns drawn. While they were friendly, there was a strong sense of paranoia hanging in the air.

"Ow ow!" Declan cried out as they pulled him to his feet. He collapsed against the plaid-covered chest of a man he'd never met, and clung to the man's dirty shirt for dear life.

"Group hug?" the man asked as he placed an arm around Declan's shoulders. "You look like you could use a hug."

"He could use a doctor," the woman corrected. "Look at his leg. I'll go rouse Pike." She hurried off, leaving Declan to the settlers outside.

It turned out that Dwayne the raider hadn't been exaggerating when he described what had happened at his camp. Teagan and his team had forced the hapless raider to lead them to the location, and had only released him after he pointed out the direction Declan had fled. While initially Teagan had planned to let his team rest there, the sheer carnage that they found quickly changed his mind. Even under the glow of the fading campfire it was obvious that the deceased raiders had died particularly gruesome deaths and most were at least partially eaten. The most ravaged raider lay next to a bloated and deceased ghoul, his entire abdominal cavity devoid of its organs.

The smell was almost unbearable.

They searched the entire site with headlamps and makeshift torches for both supplies and any sign of Declan. Teagan sat on a tree stump and stared down at the ghoul the raider had said attacked his nephew. Dry blood covered its face and its body was littered with stab wounds too small to have been made by any of the weapons the raiders had possessed. He rubbed his face as he tried to will away the exhaustion that was setting into his bones. Declan was nowhere to be found—which given their current surroundings was a relief—but Teagan now feared his nephew was wounded. Quinlan's warning about the ghouls was starting to haunt him.

He ran his hand through his hair and paused when he heard a familiar hissing and rustling behind him. His torch fell to the ground as he lept to his feet and whirled around. He pulled out his serrated Chinese officer's sword just in time to block the lunge of a lingering feral. He shoved the monster back before striking the shriveled beast with as much force as he could muster. Teagan's eyes never left his enemy, afraid of losing sight of it in the darkness. It lunged at him a second time, minus one of its arms. Teagan struck the monster again, making contact with its withered neck and sending its head tumbling in the opposite direction of its body. Behind him he could hear his men rushing over to assist him.

"Why wasn't that abomination found when you did a sweep of the area?" he asked his men as he put the sword away.

"Because it wasn't here, sir," Paladin Kris assured him. "It might have been a straggler that was roaming further out when we did our sweep."

Teagan nodded as he brushed his hair back to keep it out of his eyes. "Well keep a sharp eye out, they seldom travel alone."

"Yes, sir."

They left the camp once they picked up—what Teagan sincerely hoped—was Declan's trail. The sun was finally starting to rise, illuminating the fog with an odd yellow glow. It made tracking a bit difficult, but they took their time. Following his trail to a guardrail on the side of a desolate street, they stopped. He could've gone to the north or south. South certainly made more sense because it was the way toward the Prydwen, but then again, Declan had ended up pretty far north as it was. Teagan pulled out his brother's compass and opened it up. With little to no visibility, no compass, and no firearm, it was a wonder that his nephew was even still alive—at least he hoped he was still alive.

In the distance he could hear a brahmin. Teagan ran ahead of the team and followed the sound through the fog. He felt as if he were running blindly through the wasteland and it unnerved him. Eventually he came across a ghoul provisioner at the intersection of two roads.

"Careful stranger, you've got a dangerous look about you," the provisioner warned him as he walked past.

"I'm looking for a boy about this tall," Teagan held up his hand. "Dark hair, shaved on the sides." He watched as the provisioner stopped walking. He could tell the ghoul didn't trust him—not that he blamed him.

"I don't know about any dark hair, but a kid about that high came through here yesterday. Made it as far as the Slog before he got spooked by the ghouls and took off. He had a knit cap on his head and a fancy leather coat."

"Which way did he go?" Teagan asked, urgency in his tone. "Was he injured?"

"I ran into him at the checkpoint down the road," the ghoul pointed back behind him. "He was wounded. I tried to help him but he pulled a gun on me and wouldn't let me near him. I gave him directions to another settlement, but he never showed."

Teagan stepped further out into the intersection to try and see the settlement. He closed his eyes, the fog and his exhaustion were starting to get to him.

"He probably didn't believe me. The place used to be overrun by super mutants, the Minutemen haven't had possession of it for very long. It's still ...a mess. As freaked out as he was, he probably went on past it."

Teagan sighed. They were so close.

"I take it he's that boy the Brotherhood is looking for," the provisioner said as the rest of the team caught up.

"He is," Teagan answered.

"There's a chance he kept going straight," the ghoul offered after a moment. "But I doubt that he did. A storm rolled in at the same time he went through here. It got pretty intense, he would've had to have taken shelter somewhere, and the road going straight offers no shelter whatsoever. If I were you I'd head down that way, then make a left at the base of the bluffs. There's a sideroad. It'll take you past the sinkhole. It's prime breeding ground for the stingwing so watch out for them and the deathclaw that likes to feed off of them. There's a settlement if you continue going south. It'll be on the left. It's pretty populated, there's a chance someone might've seen him."

The sinkhole—so now they were walking in circles. "Thank you," Teagan said sincerely. He turned to his team. "We'll follow the road to this settlement, regardless of whether they've seen Declan or not, we'll take some time to rest." The soldiers who weren't in power armor looked visibly relieved. "Let's move out."

The morning sun was barely up in the sky when Maxson's vertibird descended onto the tree-covered hill just west of Taffington Boathouse. Luke held on tightly to the mounted minigun and braced himself, not trusting the pilot to not get them all killed. Why they were landing in the trees escaped him, there was a perfectly usable road that ran right through the Taffington settlement. He couldn't jump and bail without a suit of armor, so he just closed his eyes and hoped for the best.

The house itself was intact, the Minutemen renovations and reinforcements stood strong. The garage, an outhouse, and parts of the perimeter fence weren't so lucky. The garage was smoking, the roof visibly charred, one of the outhouses had been blown apart, the earth scorched all around its base, and the northern perimeter fence had partially collapsed. The road leading into the settlement was stained red with blood and littered with the corpses of super mutants. A lone guard watched from his tower, the Minutemen flag hanging up above him.

The vertibird touched down and its rotors stirred up dirt and twigs and whipped them around like tiny projectiles. Luke was the first one out and he kept his head low as he hastily descended the hill and made his way down to the road. There was a dismembered Super Mutant lying at the base of the main gate. The left side of the gate was jammed shut with one of its hinges bent at an odd angle, and the right side of the gate was torn off its hinges entirely and lay on the stained pavement. The blood on the pavement was sticky under his boots so he walked quickly to get past it. Luke stepped over one of the super mutant's arms and walked across the broken part of the gate to go inside. Dogmeat followed him closely before abandoning him to go greet Sheila—the settlement's junkyard dog.

"General!" The settlement leader greeted him. "Damn good to see you," she smiled. "They came at us as retaliation for hurting their brothers. They brought a suicider and a missile launcher, but we made short work of 'em."

Luke nodded, taking in the damage around him.

"They would've had backup but the Brotherhood swooped in and launched one hell of a counter attack on the hospital. I ain't never seen so many suits in one place—and I've seen your personal little power armor shrine in Sanctuary."

Luke fought a grin. "Did we have any casualties? Is anyone hurt?"

"Nothing Dr. Garret couldn't handle," she assured him.

"Do you know what all is damaged?"

"Glen is taking inventory as we speak." She hesitated. "Is that Arthur Maxson?" she asked. "Elder Maxson of the Brotherhood of Steel?"

Luke glanced over to the main gate where Danse and Maxson were standing. "Yeah," he answered as she walked past him. He turned and watched as she marched over to Maxson. Before he could stop her, she was shaking the Elder's hand, thanking him profusely for sending in reinforcements to assist the Minutemen. Luke brought a hand up to his mouth to hide his smile. Maxson looked surprised at first, but he accepted the praise well.

A short old man walked up and handed Luke a clipboard with a list of damages. "Thank you Glen," Luke said as he read over the list. "All of the lost turrets were on the north side?"

"Yes sir, we've got Tyler and Hattie on them. They should be back up by nightfall. Brock and Leslie are rebuilding some of the panels on the perimeter wall, but right now, there's not a thing we can do about the main purifier," Glen explained.

"What's wrong with the main purifier?" Luke asked as Danse and Maxson came up behind him.

"The top half of it was blown off."

"Oh."

"Damn ornery bastards," the settlement leader complained.

Luke looked over at Maxson and smiled. "I see you've met Rosie."

"I have," Maxson nodded.

"Alright Rosie, what have you got for us?" Luke asked.

"Follow me to the back," she said.

Luke did as he was told, following her around the side of the house and along the decking that hung out over the water. He'd noticed that his armor wasn't in the shed that it was supposed to be in. He kept waiting to find a settler still walking around in it but so far, no luck. There were a few settlers sitting out on cinder blocks and overturned buckets as they ate and conversed between themselves. They looked haggard. Luke assumed they'd been up since the fighting started the night before but none of them were in power armor.

"This is probably about the clearest it's going to be until after noon or one o'clock," she told them as she gestured out towards the river. "You can already see where the fog is moving back in. The vertibird was shot down from over there," she gestured toward the opposite bank. "It hit where the wall looks freshly crumbled and the tail is sticking up. When you gave the order to move on West Everetts, the first wave of Minutemen were comprised of seven of our guys, ten from Covenant, and nine between two patrols that were in the area. Reinforcements came in from Country Crossing and Greentop. I don't know exactly how many men came with the second wave, but I know that we lost three men and one of the dogs. Once we got control of the place, each of the participating settlements left three men behind to hold it. That put us short six people when the mutants attacked us." She paused, clearly distraught but trying to mask it. "They say that Everetts place is huge and that there's a lot of scrap potential there. One of the patrols has set up a temporary checkpoint to try and boost security. They've already had an incident where a mutant tried to get in. It was at about the same time they launched their counterattack on us. We don't know if it was intentional, but if it was, the mutants are getting more organized."

Luke frowned at the thought. "Did they find any survivors or the remains of the Brotherhood team?"

"They found a Knight just outside of some underground bunker. She'd taken out a handful of the mutants on her own, but she ran out of ammunition and her suit was badly damaged so she took cover. She went back above ground after hearing our guys move in, and the way they tell it, she'd lost all of her armor and had one of those pre-war rippers. They said she tore through three mutant hounds and a butcher like it was nothing. She tried to search for the rest of her team, a boy in particular, but she'd lost too much blood and couldn't go on anymore. They convinced her to come over here for treatment. The remains of three others were recovered by our guys—two of them in the river and one of them in the brush. And late last night after we were attacked, a pair of Brotherhood suits pulled a Paladin out of the water. I didn't quite get his name, it was Reed or Reese. I really should've because I gave him your spare armor," she admitted.

Luke tore his gaze away from the foggy shore and frowned. "I was going to ask where that was. I didn't bring a suit because I thought I had one here."

"I'm sorry General. You told me I could lend it out if one of your friends requested it. He insisted that you two were brothers and that you wouldn't mind."

"Did he now?" Luke spared a quick glance over to Danse and Maxson. "And where did Reeves say he was going to go with my armor?"

"He said he was going to follow the route he'd told the Squire to take back to the Prydwen—south-east along the river. He left by himself going up through the shallows before walking along the river's edge." She gestured toward a bank they could no longer see thanks to the fog.

"Is that everybody?" Luke asked.

"It is," Maxson nodded.

"We tried to warn the Paladin before he left that he would be passing through an area that always seemed to have a lot of ghouls in it but he didn't seem concerned. I couldn't imagine someone fighting their way through that area alone, let alone a child. We put out word for a patrol to go through the area and render aid if the Paladin needed it. They haven't reported back in yet."

Luke nodded, knowing the area she was speaking of. The Star Paladin was certainly in a suit specifically designed to handle the area he was walking into. "Where's the Knight now? Can I speak to her?"

"She's back across the river, still searching the area for the boy."

"Surely if he survived the crash he would've started back towards the Prydwen," Danse spoke up.

"Assuming he could see the Prydwen," Luke countered. Danse, Luke, and Maxson all looked up in the same direction, but nothing could be seen but fog. Rosie followed their gazes but seemed unimpressed with the view.

"This must be his armor," Luke said as he walked around the back of the house and over to where a damaged power armor frame stood next to the workshop. He knelt down and inspected it. "It's fused right here," he said out loud. "And you can see on this side where this part of the frame was starting to buckle. He picked up a mangled piece of the right leg and held it up where it should've fit—it was damaged almost to the point of unrecognition. "This suit's ruined. It's a wonder he wasn't crushed inside of it." He picked up another piece of the mangled armor and turned it over in his hand. He could make out a partial Brotherhood symbol but it was obscured by the charring on the paint.

"We had to cut him out," a random settler walked up. "Took damn near an hour, even with this at our disposal."

Luke turned to see a settler in combat armor holding a blood-covered ripper. He felt the color drain from his face. Sure he still used the things to help scrap larger items at his settlements, but he certainly didn't fight with them—not since his days during the war.

"Are you alright sir?" the settler asked.

"Go clean that thing up," Luke told him. "It's a valuable tool but I don't want to hear of it being used as a weapon unless absolutely necessary."

"The guys said that Knight tore through the Super Mutants with this," the settler protested.

"And it makes a horrific mess," he told him. "Just trust me, you don't want that sort of thing haunting your dreams."

"Yes, sir," the settler said, sparing Danse a small wave before quickly leaving.

Danse offered the settler a nod before turning his attention back to Luke. "You used one of those during the war didn't you?"

Luke nodded. "I built them, rebuilt them, built with them..."

"Killed with them?"

There was a long pause as Luke knelt down next to a water pump. He gave the handle a few good pumps to get the water flowing and then cupped his hands to collect it. Leaning in he splashed his face with the cool water. "When I had to," he answered quietly.