To say Maxson was surprised was an understatement. The last thing he expected was his newly minted Sentinel to approach his private quarters at near midnight. He motioned for her to sit at his table and she did, also accepting his offering of bourbon.
He knew she wasn't much of a drinker, but he made the offer anyways in case she wanted the liquid courage. He certainly needed it. He sat at the head of the table, slumping slightly in his seat in exhaustion. The atmosphere was completely unlike the relaxed camaraderie of Nora or the stoic professionalism of Kells. No, there was too much history and certainly too much tension for it to be anything but stifling.
He raised an eyebrow when she took a deep drink from the glass. She grimaced at the taste despite its sweetness, clearing her throat before looking at him. He said nothing in reply. He'd made his move by promoting her. The choice was hers now.
She played with the half-empty glass in her fingers, "Permission to speak freely?"
"Every Sentinel under the Eastern Brotherhood has had that permission granted with their Elder." It wasn't really an answer, and he hadn't meant to come off so strongly, but his discomfort was clear.
Shiloh frowned, slightly losing what courage she'd had before, "I'm already fucking this up."
He remembered. He remembered how hard these things were for her. He thought of all the times she'd clammed up while telling him about one of her adventures. When the details became too difficult for her to elaborate without breaking down. She'd glossed over the facts, despite his curiosity. He remembered the moments her fights with Sarah would die down and the Elder would comfort her.
There was no Sarah to comfort her now. Knowing full well it might be a bad idea, he reached a gloved hand over and gently took the glass from her. His hand grazed hers slightly and he noticed her fingers twitching to touch his. He moved the glasses to the middle of the table, eyes focused on them as Shiloh gathered her bearings.
She was blushing when he spoke to her, "Sentinel, relax."
Shiloh took a deep breath, steeling herself again, "Did you really kill the super mutant that killed Sarah?"
He would have thought she'd pick a safer subject than Sarah. Let alone Sarah's death. Not shying away from this question, he replied, "His name was The Shepherd. He didn't just kill Sarah, all of Lyons Pride went down with her. And yes, I killed him."
"Good," he saw the hardness in Shiloh's eyes as she thought of how her friend's life must have ended. Maxson didn't like to think about that too much, "I miss her. Everyday, the biggest loss I mourn, the biggest thing that the Institute and the Children robbed from me, was her."
"It's strange to see you mourning her after years of watching her mourn you. This world has a terrible sense of humor." He grabbed the bourbon and poured another glass for himself.
"Have you been sleeping, Maxson?" Her question surprised him a little.
He raised his eyebrows, "Do I look tired, Sentinel?"
"Well, it's my job to concern myself with my Elder's health."
He squirmed a little at her words. My Elder. The way she almost cheekily said his title woke something strange and primal deep inside him. He was even more uncomfortable than before, "Is that why you ask?"
She absently played with a lock of her hair, "Something like that."
Neither of them were willing to provide any straight answers. This wasn't going anything like he'd planned or wanted. He couldn't even call it power play when neither of them knew how they stood with each other, "The Capital Wasteland is going to be different when you get back."
She straightened in her seat, "Has it changed so much in nine years?"
"I haven't been there in two, but from both my experience and my reports there are a lot of changes."
"I'll have lots of exploring to do," she tapped her bottom lip absently. It distracted him a little.
"Perhaps," he stood to grab something from his desk. "Here, you might be interested in this." He placed the Wasteland Survival Guide on the table in front of her. She picked it up, flipping through it curiously.
"Moira's handiwork. I crawled to Megaton with three dog bites and radiation poisoning for this book. It turned out...pretty bad the first time. Not all my information was accurate or helpful. I hope the re-write was worth it."
"Apparently this version of the manuals litter the countryside, so your efforts certainly weren't in vain." He grimaced at the thought of Shiloh, younger than he is now, crawling across a barren wasteland in excruciating pain all for some trader's research. He reached for a stack of paperwork, pulling out and unfolding a map of the Capital Wasteland across the table, "If you're curious about the changes…"
She leaned much closer to him and over the map, curious, "What's changed the most?"
He leaned over the map as well, more comfortable with this line of questioning, "There have been major developments in the Citadel. We've restored power to most of it and have further fortified the walls and the area surrounding. Settlements have popped up all over. Along with Rivet City and Megaton, Big Town has become a major trading hub. It's grown at least thrice its size. Caravan activity in the area has increased tenfold. In the past few years alone, the area has developed immensely."
Shiloh smiled, a genuine look of happiness lit her face, "That's great news. I can't wait to see it in person."
"As soon as our business with these scientists is done, we will leave the Commonwealth. I wasn't born in the Capital Wasteland, but it is my home. And there is still much work to do."
Shiloh glanced at him, still smiling, "Of course, sir," Maxson frowned again, looking uncomfortable. Shiloh's brows furrowed, "What?"
"I-" he cleared his throat, not able to give in to the temptation to have her call him by his name. He wasn't sure he could take that, right now.
"Am I making you uncomfortable?"
"No," he blatantly lied.
She slumped her shoulders a little, growing slightly distant, "Despite everything, I think we know each other better than that."
There it was. Despite everything. There stood quite a bit of everything between them. "Do we?"
Shiloh gave him a sad smile, "I suppose you know me better than I know you."
It was true, in a way. And it maddened him sometimes. On top of the buried abandonment issues and the weight of a military organization on his shoulders, he had his own personal issues with how much he knew her. She was reckless and combative and distrustful, but she had to walk back into his life looking exactly the same as she did when she left it. It was a sick, twisted version of the things he fantasized about as a teenager.
Her, doe-eyes and willpower actually seeing him as a man. How often had he desired this opportunity when he was younger? He was bolder in his fantasies, taking all that pent up frustration and grabbing her into a searing kiss. It hadn't been like that with Sarah. Sarah had been a boyhood crush. What he'd felt for the Lone Wanderer was a strange mix of spite and desire. While he hated her for her for how reckless she was with her own life, he also wanted to touch her and card his fingers through her hair. He had looked forward to the day that he would be an adult to her. Only he hadn't taken into account that he would possibly be her Elder.
He must be inebriated. Or simply delusional from lack of sleep. Shiloh noticed him spacing out and he must have looked deep in thought, because she seemed to regret snapping him back to reality, "You look exhausted, Maxson. I should let you sleep."
Maxson. He could deal with that one. It felt better than being called sir by her like he hadn't just been fantasizing over her like a schoolboy, "Yes, I have an early day tomorrow."
Shiloh smiled, "You always have an early day."
He felt a ghost of a smile on his lips, "Keep the manual and the map. Gives you something to look forward to after we finish with the Commonwealth."
Shiloh stood, gathering the items gently like they were precious to her. He wandered how much she would study the map and the writing he'd made on it. He rubbed his eyes as she quietly let herself out, not saying a word. She left him with a hopeful smile.
Though it still wasn't clear what she wanted or what was between them, Maxson felt a little more relaxed. It felt like an important first step. They were both adults. They both changed. He would have to re-learn her as a person and not just as who he fantasized about. Most importantly, she would have to learn who he was as a man and not a boy. He didn't know what she wanted to see from him, but he had nothing to hide from her.
She was a sentinel now, his only one now that Nora would be taking her leave of the Brotherhood. He owed the woman that much and didn't mind at all working with her as an ally rather than his subordinate. Nora and Maxson had seen each other as means to an end from the beginning and it was a mutual understanding that she had no place in the military empire he was building.
It would take time, but he wanted the Lone Wanderer to once again be the center of Brotherhood operations in the East. No matter what she wanted or even knew, she was a hero to the Capital Wasteland and her role would be vital to winning the hearts and minds of the people. Maxson knew that they saw him as an extension of the brutal western elders. He couldn't make the people trust the Brotherhood. But Shiloh could. At the end of the day, he would need to figure out if that was something she really wanted. For now, he told himself it was.
-0-
Shiloh sat in the rather spacious bedroom on the bed that had once been Danse's. She considered bringing up the former paladin to Maxson, but the subject was sensitive and she wasn't completely sure Maxson would even acknowledge Danse was alive with her. He'd gone out on a limb just allowing Nora to reunite them. She feared angering or making him uncomfortable by bringing the subject up with him directly.
She sat up in the bed and unfolded the map gently. Across the geography of the Capital Wasteland, she noted all the little red markings Maxson had made. Some of it was scribbled out, but she admired the ones that stood out in bold and underline. Big Town had certainly grown in her absence. Little Lamplight didn't exist on the map. Vault 101 was noted as a minor trading hub, to Shiloh's surprise. Last she'd known, Amata was still unsure about interacting with the outside world since she'd taken over as Overseer. Settlements she didn't recognize littered the map, with various names and size indicators. The Brotherhood had certainly been busy. Shiloh hoped they weren't bullying the settlements into providing supplies. That had been a suggestion she'd loudly protested when it was brought up to Sarah.
She suddenly longed for the homeland she'd taken for granted. It had only been months since she'd woken up, but she left the Capital Wasteland without looking back. She didn't want the moniker of a hero they placed on her and she wanted to be free and explore like the Brotherhood and everyone else let her do before she'd officially joined their ranks. Sarah wanted to monitor her, something she'd recoiled from considering she'd handled herself perfectly fine before they'd met outside GNR Plaza.
When she'd met Sarah, she was wide-eyed and delirious from a diet of nothing but dirty water and buffout tablets. Maybe she didn't have the best methods, but she still survived so far without Sarah's intervention.
Shiloh lifted her head from the map when her pip-boy began to itch her wrist. Grabbing a screwdriver, she maneuvered the latch open to massage her wrist. She'd spent more of her life wearing the damned thing than not, but it still could bother her wrist with its dull weight.
She left the open Pip-Boy in her lap, focusing on her wrist for a few moments. When she lifted it again, she paused. Quinlan had searched the software multiple times for bugs or viruses and found nothing. She didn't consider the possibility that there was something different with the hardware. Pip-Boy 3000As were known to explode if forced off, enough that they would kill both the wearer and the tamperer. But knowing that her captors were Institute scientists, the possibility was there that they could have gotten it off her without detonating it.
She exited her room, quiet in the early morning hour, and padded to the main deck where all the workshops were. She hoped she wasn't too loud, but the Prydwen's open metal halls heard every noise that came from the main deck.
Shiloh laid the open pip-boy on the workbench. She grabbed a tool box and began unscrewing the plastic components, careful not to damage the screen at all. A Brotherhood soldier in fatigues groggily entered the large room, looking to work on his power armor, when he saw Shiloh at the workbench. He visibly blushed, seeing Shiloh in nothing but half-pulled down Brotherhood fatigues and a plain gray shirt. She ignored him, fixated on not messing with the wiring too much.
"Sentinel," the man acknowledged her before his interest peaked and he peered over to look at her project. He jumped slightly when he saw the dismantled pip-boy, leaving the room immediately. Shiloh rolled her eyes, knowing she was about to have someone breathing down her neck about this, but she continued messing with the wires.
To her surprise, it was Proctor Ingram who entered the area. She looked like she hadn't slept in days. Probably because she hadn't. She didn't bother with title and rank, looking far too exasperated with Shiloh at the moment, "Are you dismantling a bomb on my airship?"
Shiloh grimaced, looking up from her work, "If you want to look at it that way…"
"Half the Brotherhood is looking at it that way. You're about to have Kells fuming at you for endangering his crew."
Setting the screwdriver down a little roughly, Shiloh turned to Ingram, "Have some faith in me. I could recite the pip-boy manual to you backwards. It was required in the vault. I wouldn't just let them strap a bomb to me for years without knowing anything about it." She grabbed the small microchip she'd pulled from the motherboard, holding it up to Ingram, "I'm about to make this mission a lot easier."
Ingram blinked at the chip, taking it gently in her hands, "This looks strange, maybe pre-War. I haven't seen anything like this."
"I haven't either. Which means it isn't Vault-Tec." Kells picked this moment to enter the room, Maxson in tow.
"Ma'am. With all due respect, what kind of-"
Maxson cut Kells off, "Lancer-Captain, people only use that term when they're about to be insubordinate." He turned to Shiloh, looking disheveled. Even his usually pristine jacket was wrinkled, "Explain, Sentinel."
Shiloh took back the microchip from Ingram, handing it to Maxson. "They didn't bug my Pip-Boy. And this can't be a tracking or listening device. Vault-Tec installed failsafes on most frequencies. It would have blown the second they tried to install it. But this has to be something. This isn't in any of the pip-boy manuals."
Maxson turned to one of the Brotherhood soldiers flanking him, "Get Quinlan."
-0-
Proctor Ingram assisted Quinlan in installing the chip on a spare terminal. They made sure it was wiped of Brotherhood information before the experiment. Nothing came of their findings until Quinlan used a decryption program and a network scan on it. They found that the chip ran on a private frequency. It ran similar to the Classical radio station that the Institute used.
Shiloh followed as Ingram boarded the vertibird to the airport. She and a crew of soldiers dusted off the technology used to transport Nora into the Institute. "Now that I know the frequency, I can use it to get a location. Or at least where it's coming from."
Tracing her fingers across the dulled metal of the beam, Shiloh pondered, "Why not teleport me there?"
Ingram looked uncomfortable, "That would be Maxson's call."
"You think he would tell me no."
"I think he was out of options sending Nora."
"We don't have many now."
"Let's just…slow down before you throw yourself into the fire fight. Nothing happens until Maxson says it does. As soon as I get some semblance of a location, I'll report my findings." Both women turned immediately when Liberty Prime shot a blast of lasers at a group of mirelurk hunters on the distant beach.
Shiloh frowned, watching him continue on like nothing happened. He ignored the pile of corpses left behind him. Bloatflies hovered nearby, waiting for the fresh meat. All was quiet for now, but Shiloh's eyes scanned the distance. The scientists could be anywhere in the Commonwealth. Hell, they could be outside the Commonwealth. Her nails dug into her arms as she crossed them. Her pip-boy reflected the setting sun.
Call it a hunch after experiencing so much, but Shiloh knew something was wrong. Something big was coming.