Pistol Packin' Mama

"We're going in hot!"

Boots hit the ground, dust and dirt spraying up as bullets danced across the floor in a zig-zagging pattern. The chess pieces sprinted forward, rifles at the ready, the metallic thunder drowning out the crackle of their headsets. The first fell with a snap of his head, his body jerking backwards in a sharp, painful motion. The second, a landmine that made her fly, the shredded remains of her legs streaming behind her. Down they went, one by one, collected by the lurking pawns of the enemy.

Cover. Blissful, beautiful cover. Nate gasped as he reached it, ducking just in time as bullets shot straight through the section above his head, raining fragmented brick down onto him. He grasped for a grenade at his belt, pulled the pin with his teeth,

Quinn will be pissed. My dental is crap enough already.

and lobbed it over the wall. The screams were drowned out by the ear-shattering explosion that flung debris and remains all over the battlefield. There was still gunfire; less of it, but no less of a threat. It only took one bullet to do the job. Just let me see Quinn again. Let me be here to see my son. Please.

"Forward!"

Crossing himself and kissing his wedding ring, Nate threw himself over the pockmarked wall and sprinted, his heart hammering against his chest as he willed his legs to carry him on, to miss the mines, to make him too fast to hit. A boom not far to his left told him one of his friends hadn't been so lucky; their cries faded as he ran on, thankful that at least they could still cry. Twice, he felt a hard something graze his cheeks, followed by a hot, trickling sensation. With each blessing of cover, no matter how frail, Nate praised God and begged him to help for just one more run. And one more. And one more. And...

"Nate, duck!" Hands grabbed him and dragged him into the dirt as something whizzed overhead; he found himself nose to nose with Sergeant Crofts, a young woman with the face of an angel and the aim of a demon. She grinned. "Watch your ass, Nate. You got a pretty gal to go home to." She rolled off him, gave him her usual wink, and sprinted on, her slight, athletic frame immediately lost in the swirling clouds of dust. Nate shook his head and scrambled up to follow. He had barely taken two steps when an explosive force knocked him off his feet. Something heavy and wet landed on him, knocking the wind out of him. Nate coughed and wiped the grit out of his face, to be greeted with the blank stare of Crofts, her pretty features now torn up by shrapnel and shiny burns.

"Fuck!" Nate screamed, shoving her body away and staggering to his feet. Her glassy, blue eye was still looking at him even though she was face down, accusing. Where was his gun? Where-?

Crack.

Nate hit the dirt again, coughing. A strong salty taste in his mouth made him gag, and he spat out red as he tried to stand. Two more rounds in quick succession put him back on the ground. He stared ahead at Crofts' crumpled body, the dust around her darkening, her fiery hair covering her face. All sound had been muted away, and he shivered, barely noticing the disgusting mixture of grit and blood in his saliva. Crofts...one of the strongest women...one of the strongest people he knew. Had known. Nate swallowed, ignoring the prickling pain in his throat, and shut his eyes. He was dying. God, he was dying, and he'd never see his son. Quinn, honey, I'm sorry. I'm so sorry. I...love..."

"We love you."

The tape clicked as it reached the end, but despite the bright light from the Pip-Boy, its owner did not stir. She remained still on the foredeck until a dull sun crawled up onto the horizon, washing the ruins of Boston with a pale morning glow. A bird landed on the railings next to her and squawked loudly, cocking its head as her eyes flickered open. It considered her for a moment, and then cawed again for good measure.

"Fuck off," Quinn muttered, shivering as she straightened up and looked the bird in the eye...eyes? Were those four eyes? Six? The bird stared back, twitching its head from side to side. It opened its beak and Quinn held up a stern finger. "Don't you dare, asshole. Don't you dare. It's too early for this shi-"

"Caaaaaw."

"Fine!" Quinn pulled herself up using the railings, ignoring the bird bouncing away and then back again as she stretched and groaned, her limbs clicking with every movement. "You win. I'll leave you to your throne." The bird squawked victoriously as she slammed the door behind her.

It was only slightly warmer inside the Prydwen, but at least there was no wind. Ignoring the stares and whispers of 'newcomer' and 'vault dweller' (perhaps she should have changed the Vault-Tec suit by now), Quinn made her way to where the food was, the only part of the ship she'd bothered to memorise. Helping herself to noodles, Quinn dropped herself at an empty table in the corner, cradling the warm bowl in her hands. After a few moments, a dark young man with a thin face sat at the end of the table, the furthest point away from Quinn. She raised an eyebrow and studied him, grinning as she saw him staring intently at his own bowl. "Are you new too?"

The young man jumped, almost knocking his bowl to the floor, but managing to grab it at the last second with a slight hissing noise. Noodles secured, he sucked his now red fingers, blushing slightly as he gave an abrupt nod.

"I'm Quinn." She stuck out her hand. The young man took his fingers out of his mouth and went to shake, and then withdrew quickly, his flush deepening.

"Sorry..." he mumbled, bowing his head. Quinn laughed and offered her other hand; he took it with a small smile. Despite his demeanour, his grip was firm. A good, strong handshake. "I'm...Carson. Liam Carson."

"Nice to meet you, Liam. Or do you prefer Carson?"

"Carson," Carson replied, stirring his noodles absent-mindedly. "Surnames seem to be the popular choice around here."

"Carson it is then." There was a brief silence as they ate. "How long you been here?"

"Six months," Carson said through a mouthful, practically inhaling his noodles. It seemed he was quick to relax. "People like you who get sponsored, they don't have to do the training. They've already proven they can cut it. Me however? I was picked up from a farm in the Capital Wasteland on a whim and given a gun. Came along for the ride to the Commonwealth; seemed like a good idea at the time."

Quinn blinked. Ever since she had arrived, she had heard nothing but passion to the point of worship about Elder Maxson and the Brotherhood. Carson's lack of fervour struck her as odd, but also refreshing. It was a feeling she could share. "Why did you join at all?"

Carson shrugged. "What else is there in this shithole of a world? You just have to pick a side and hope they're enough to carry you to the end."

A huge grin spread across Quinn's face, and she raised a fork to him. "If I had a beer, I'd drink to that. As it stands, you're stuck with noodles." Carson laughed and raised his own fork, clinking it with hers before eating the rest of his food. Quinn set down her cutlery and stretched, and then noticed that Danse was watching her from across the room; he turned away and started talking to Proctor Ingram, who was sat opposite him. Had he really been watching her, or was she just imagining it? It didn't matter. Now she'd settled in and set up her armour, it was time to see what job Maxson had for her. Any act against the Institute was one step closer to her son.

Quinn stood up, chair scraping loudly on the floor, dealt with her dirty dishes, and wandered off to suit up. Footsteps sounded behind her, and moments later, Carson joined her.

"My first live mission today," he said, tapping his fingers on his arm as his eyes darted around the Prydwen. "I don't know what it is yet, but I have to report to Maxson soon."

"Me too. Help me suit up and we'll go together."

Getting into the power armour was an odd experience. She had done it once before when she had first woken up, stumbling upon an old museum held at siege, with the remains of the Minute Men trapped inside. A deathclaw had pulled itself up from the earth in the midst of the fighting, and it would have torn her limb for limb had it not been for the armour. Quinn wrestled with the catch, feeling a small sliver of pleasure at the strange clunk and hiss as the armour opened to admit her.

Stepping in was claustrophobic at first – it was those crucial seconds caught between the limbo of air and the suit, where you knew you were being contained, trapped. But once the suit closed and the HUD switched on, you and the suit were one, metal and flesh seamlessly combined. Each movement felt powerful, but also heavy. You directed the armour, but you did not control it. One fault, just one failure of power, and it would lock you in place, leaving you at its mercy.

Quinn took a deep breath as the metal closed around her and the orange display flickered to life. The weight of her new steel body filled her with exhilaration. She was ready. It was time to see Elder Maxson. It was time to find Shaun.

The minigun rattled beneath her hands as the bullets hailed down on the landscape, the heat barely passing through the power armour's gauntlets. The thunder of metal and howls of the behemoth were not enough to silence the whirling thoughts trapped in Quinn's head. Was it rage at Maxson, for this petty distraction? The Institute, for everything they had done? Danse, for leading her here? Or was it at herself, for choosing the Brotherhood's help over Nick's? Maxson's words burned through her.

It'll have to wait. The Brotherhood can not allow those abominations to have a nuclear arsenal at their fingertips.

It would have to wait? Over her dead fucking body it would wait. She couldn't leave now, not when she was flanked by Danse and Carson, so close to the airship. But once the super mutants below were dealt with and the fatman shells at Fort Strong were secured, Quinn would find a way to discreetly take her leave. Perhaps Nick had managed to make his way back to Diamond City. If not, maybe Piper would help for the sake of a good story...

There was a loud bang as a boulder hit the vertibird, knocking it off course. It spun wildly in the air, and for a moment Quinn pictured Shaun in her arms as she waited for an impact that never came. The aircraft righted itself, and Quinn found the behemoth right in her sights, bleeding heavily and clearly pissed off. With a roar, Quinn unleashed the punishment of the minigun and yelled triumphantly as it tore through the flesh of the monster, the concentrated fire caving in its large head.

"Good job, soldier!" she heard Danse yell from behind her. "The pilot's just told me the vertibird has taken heavy damage, so she's dropping us here to finish the job on foot. Brace yourselves! We're going in hot!"

The vertibird dipped down and the screams of the super mutants grew louder. Quinn had encountered them briefly on the way to Diamond City, but had managed to keep a safe distance and out of their notice. Up close, they filled her with a mixture of horror and fear that rooted her to the spot as Danse threw himself out of the 'bird and charged. A knock to the back of her helmet brought her to her senses; Carson gave her a thumbs up and jumped out himself, leaving her alone. It was now and never. Gritting her teeth, Quinn tore herself away from the mounted gun and launched herself into the battlefield.

Lipless, hulking creatures towered over her, bulging muscles barely contained underneath sickly yellow-green skin. They gnashed their brown teeth, eyes wide with a glazed, psychotic look that made Quinn take a step back.

Shaun.

With a cry, Quinn opened fire, her combat rifle blowing the back of the nearest one's head out and spraying the others with its blood. They didn't seem to notice, instead returning fire and forcing her behind cover. She pulled a grenade from the attachment case on her armour, primed it, and threw it as hard as she could. It bounced off the head of a mutant and exploded, sending up a spray of gore that rained down around her. But as she moved from cover to fire again, something crashed into the side of her helmet, knocking her flat. Without thinking, she rolled – something Quinn would have thought impossible in all the bulk – and caught a glimpse of a piece of pipe slamming down where her head had been seconds earlier. The super mutant gave a strangled roar and lashed out; Quinn's arms went up just in time, and the shock of the blow made a sickening zigzag all the way up to her shoulders. She gave a grunt and kicked out, catching it in the chest and staggering it, giving her enough time to hit it between the eyes. It crumpled backwards without another word, the pipe landing with a dull thud in the sand next to it, but Quinn was already getting to her feet, her combat rifle delivering its next blow without mercy.

All the chaos was not enough to drown out the memory that bubbled away peacefully beneath the surface, holding her together from afar. Nate's hands were around hers, her back against his chest as she squinted down the sights of a small pistol he had picked out for her. The rush as she pulled the trigger and the feel of his warm skin against hers hummed gently in the back of her mind, guarding her against the monsters. He had been delighted when she had wanted to try out the shooting range on base, and even more so when he realised she had a knack for it. So long ago, and yet the lessons had never truly left her.

The peace was threatened by a terrible scream.

Quinn whirled on the spot and was halfway across the area before she had even realised she was sprinting. In the distance was Carson, flat on his back, with what looked like a rusted car bumper sharpened into a makeshift sword protruding from his midriff. The super mutant stood on his chest, laughing as Carson's shrieks were cut off with a wheeze. He was larger than the rest, a hulking monstrosity with a wicked scar across his face, his huge, meaty hands grasping the hilt of the sword and twisting it, grinning widely as the human writhed beneath him.

Quinn raised her weapon, a string of insults ready on her lips, but Danse got there first. He seemed to fly through the air, taking a running leap at the mutant, his fist colliding with such force that the crack of bone could be heard from where Quinn was. The mutant staggered, freeing Carson's lungs to scream again...except nothing but silence followed. Howling, the mutant ran at Danse, its jaw slack and bleeding. Danse dodged and hit it again, knocking it back, and followed with the butt of his gun smashing into its nose. The creature fell back, missing Carson by inches, and crashed to the floor. Without a word, Danse raised his foot, and slammed it down on its head. There was an unpleasant crunch and a squelch, and the body twitched and jittered beneath Danse's boot. The paladin seemed unconcerned., instead turning to the fallen recruit.

"Carson!" Quinn was at his side now, unsure whether or not to remove the filthy metal blade that had speared him. Carson didn't answer. "I think he's gone," Quinn mumbled as she shook him.

"Don't!" Danse snapped, pulling her away. "We don't want to make this any worse." He felt around the back of the helmet and pulled at a hidden lever. There was a hiss and the helmet came loose, revealing Carson's ashen face. He was breathing. "Talk to him. Now." Danse stood up, pulled a gun from the holster at his leg, and raised it high into the air. It went off with a loud bang, and bright light shot up above them, a trail of thick, red smoke streaming behind it. In the distance, Quinn saw a vertibird fire up and pull away from the Prydwen, but Danse paid it no attention. He dropped the flare gun on the floor, took off his helmet, and moved to the bumper sword, grasping it with both hands. "I said talk to him. Try and restrain him if you can. And get a stimpak ready. We need to work fast."

Quinn removed her helmet and took out a stimpak from the attached armour case, tossing it to Danse, who caught it and put it between his teeth. She then placed her hands on Carson's shoulders, talking softly as she went. Sweet promises of a happy ending left her lips, but she didn't believe them.

His eyes flew open and his back arched as the sword came out with a sickening sound, but his scream was mostly drowned out by the approaching vertibird. Danse knelt down, tearing off Carson's armour as Quinn fought to keep him still, and stabbed the stimpak directly into his abdomen. He trembled and went still, his face slackening as his head lolled to one side.

"Is he...?" Quinn asked, but couldn't finish. Danse shook his head, placed Carson's chest piece over his body, and then shielded the hole in the metal with his own hands. The reason became apparent almost immediately: as the vertibird landed, a storm of dirt was lashed towards them, coating everything in its path with a fine layer of grit. Two knights in power armour jumped out and ran over, and together all four of them managed to get Carson onto the 'bird. It took off quickly and without ceremony, leaving Quinn and Danse stood in silence.

"Will he be alright?" she asked finally. Danse sighed.

"He's stabilised for now, but the rest will be up to Knight Captain Cade. If we'd had a field scribe with us, maybe we could have done more, but as it stands...we're lucky we were so close to the Prydwen."

We're lucky? Quinn wondered. Not 'He's lucky'?

Danse turned and set off towards the crumbling building at such a pace that Quinn had to run to catch up to him. He was wearing a deep scowl that she had never seen before, and it unsettled her even after it had been hidden by his helmet again. "Come on," he said, reloading his weapon in sharp, jerky motions. "It's time for some payback."