Gate: Thus the Brotherhood of Steel Lyon's Pride Fought in Their Land
Chapter One
The sight of Monument Park was different than it had been a mere six months before. Before there had been far more super mutants, and they had ravaged the area. The only semi safe place had been the Underworld, and even then that was a gamble. Vardas noticed the other huge difference. At the end facing the Lincoln Monument was a huge stone gate. It stood at the end of the pool, its surface not the cracked and destroyed ruins left over from a war that happened two hundred years before, but instead it looked pristine.
Oddly enough the way it looked, the pool couldn't be seen behind it. Instead it almost appeared to be a tunnel to somewhere. Moving closer Vargas looked at those with them. Sentinel Lyons' favorite knight stood at the far end. His blue power armor was moving at the same pace as everyone else's. Behind him, the Knight Prophet walked slowly. He could hear her barely talking, issuing silent prayers. He didn't stop her. If believing in something made things easier for her then he was all for it.
Knight Stockman was on her left. Stockman moved easily without power armor. Instead he was dressed in combat armor that had been modified greatly. From what he heard the armor was powerful enough to handle fifty caliber shots. Of course it didn't protect from radiation. That meant that hopefully Knight Stockman had both Rad-X and RadAway on him. On Knight Prophet's right was Scribe Moore. She looked excited, curious, and he was certain that she was exceptionally anxious to see what laid inside of the stone gate. That left Knight Andrea Woodward on Scribe Moore's right.
Of all of the knights in the Brotherhood Andrea got assigned to them. He didn't want to say anything. It happened ten years ago, he was twenty, she was nineteen, and it had been a brief slip on both of their judgements. A brief lapse of judgment that often came with a helping of sarcastic remarks and an aloof personality.
"Stay in formation," he said as they neared the stone behemoth, "No one is to rush forward. We need to do security checks to see what this is."
There was what seemed to be a silent agreement to his suggestion, and he moved forward. The gate itself looked normal enough, and currently his HUD interface in his helmet wasn't picking up any more stray radiation than normal. He almost expected to have it spike this close to the stone gate. Something just appearing was straight out of science fiction, but then again it wasn't out of the realm of possibility.
There were records that Scribe Rothchild had found which indicated that the government was attempting to create teleportation. If they would have succeeded then it would have turned the tide of the war for certain. They could have sent multiple shock troops straight to every major city in China. It would have stopped the war before it was lost. Seeing this here made him wonder if perhaps they didn't finish it, and whatever set of robots that had been assigned to it finally finished constructing it. It was still strange to see it look like a tunnel connected to a stone gate.
"Scribe Moore, carefully move toward the edges of the gate. Check to see if there is any interface there," Sentinel Lyons commanded, "Paladin Vargas, go with her and provide support. Knight Prophet, take the left side, prepare to defend if necessary, Knight Stockman, accompany Knight Prophet, Knight Woodward stay with me."
Each member did as they were instructed, all except for Sentinel Lyons' favorite knight. Vargas noticed that she stayed nearby, "What should I do?"
She remained quiet for a moment, "For now I want you here. Whatever is going on seems to be benign for the moment, but that could change."
Vargas noticed that she still had Cthulhu's Gambit on her, "Depending on how bad it is we may need to use the weapon you found."
"Sentinel Lyons," Vargas said as he stood near Scribe Moore, "Knight Woodward is carrying a missile launcher."
He hoped that she understood that he was saying that Cthulhu's Gambit might be too much overkill. The look she shot him was one that he understood all too well. She understood exactly what he was trying to say, and this was her mostly polite way of telling him to shut his mouth. He didn't want to see this go down badly. Currently there were far less Super Mutants in the area, the Redeemers, as they called themselves, were currently watching from their new found home at the Lincoln Memorial.
It was far enough back that he wasn't worried about them, but then if the knight in the Vault Tec blue power armor worried it would distract Sentinel Lyons. At this point she needed to make her move on him, claim him, and just be done with it. He was more than certain that Elder Lyons would have something to say about it, but most of Lyons' Pride would back Sarah.
"There's no interface," Scribe Moore said, "Actually, this looks and feels like stone. I'm not even getting any rads off of it."
He stood there and looked at it, "That's got to be impossible," he said, his eyes taking in the stone, "A giant gate like this just doesn't appear. It's got to be something Prewar."
She nodded, "I saw the reports too, but if this was the teleportation project there would be some stray radiation off of it. Plus part of the reason it was held up was powering it. According to the records that I… ummm… scanned over they only managed to teleport something six feet, and it drained sixteen fusion cores."
He looked at it, "So, how much would it have taken for this?"
She swallowed, "It would be as radioactive as Vault 87, maybe more so," she said as she studied it, "Even in your power armor you'd be dead in minutes. I would already be a corpse or a ghoul, and the same goes for everyone else."
He shook his head, "Then what is it? Because if it's not Prewar I'm not sure what the hell it could be."
He saw her swallow, and then she looked up at him, "When you remove the possible all that remains is the improvable," she said, a faint smile on her lips, "I never really understood that line from Sherlock Holmes before, but I get it now. What possibilities are there? Really, what's left?"
He breathed out, "Don't tell me magic," he said as he looked at it, "Because that's impossible."
She shook her head, "Improbable, not impossible," she said as she looked back at the gate, "Think about it, all technology appears to be magic to those that have no concept of it. If you were to take our advancements back three, four hundred years it would look like magic to them."
He studied it, "So, this is advanced technology then?"
She nodded as she studied it, "I think so, or at least that's how I'm thinking of it. It's got to be something more advanced than we've ever messed with. Honestly, it's incredible. I wish that we had the ability to study it fully. I know that Rothchild would drive himself insane trying to figure it out. As it is he's going to be pissed that I got to look at it first!"
She seemed to be enthralled with the gate itself, and he didn't blame her. But slowly a sound began to emit from inside of the darkened tunnel. It started light, something echoing slightly, and then without warning something came through. It vaguely reminded him of a deathclaw, but it had wings, and someone was on its back. He'd heard rumors of a tribe toward the west. This tribe was located in what had been Nevada. They dressed in old Roman style armor, carried swords and shields, crossbows, and of course other weapons.
The person on that flying deathclaw's back was wearing a similar kind of armor. It let out a screech and an arrow was released. Its flaming head hit the ground, and from there a small explosion erupted. "Woodward, track that thing and shoot it down!" Sentinel Lyons shouted, "NOW!"
"Ma'am!"
The roar of the missile launch filled the area as the missile itself erupted out. The shot was done perfectly, aiming in the pattern she'd observed, and while he didn't personally always like Andrea he had to admit that she was a hell of a shot with a missile launcher. It hit the flying deathclaw and caused it to tumble to the ground. From behind it came more shouts, and he watched as various twisted mutants, because that was all they could be, came out of the gate. Pig faced mutants, squealing and snarling as they ran with swords.
It reminded Vargas of an old comic he'd seen in the citadel before, Grognak the Barbarian, but that was fantasy. That was swords and sorcery, and not real life, but here was the same thing that spilled from the pages of Grognak entering their world.
"Focus fire on the incoming waves!" Sentinel Lyons shouted, "Woodward, do your best to knock those things out of the sky! Vargas, get Moore away from there! Prophet, focus fire on the ones that appear to be giving orders, Adam, god help me, do you have a fatboy?"
"Sure do!"
She swallowed, "Be prepared to use it, God help us all."
Vargas was moving Moore, and as he was he could see the untapped curiosity in her eyes. It was the fucking Deathclaw den all over again. She wanted to see what was happening, she needed to uncover what was going on, and she needed to study it. Her common sense was completely gone.
"Five minutes!" she squealed as he practically lifted her, "Please, just five minutes to study this!"
He grunted as he moved, the closest place that they could get to safety would either be the Lincoln Memorial, Underworld, or the Washington Monument. He could hear the sounds of miniguns already firing. That meant those things were at the Washington Monument. He held her over her shoulder, glad that he was in his power armor, and began to sprint as fast as the armor would allow him.
"Please, just five miiiiiinnnnnuuuuuttttteeeeeesssss!" she squealed as she tried to get loose, "There's so much we could learn!"
"We won't last five minutes!" he shouted as he closed the distance to Underworld. If needed they would head into the metro tunnel, "We need to get you to safety, and then I need to get back out there!"
The moment he got close he heard the sounds of a fifty caliber rifle firing. The unmistakable sound of a bolt action rifle being used filled the air as he neared the area. There he saw two figures. The first was dressed in T-45 power armor. From what he could see the armor was in decent enough condition, and he could see older emblems of the Brotherhood on it. The fact that the armor was standing there fighting alongside a ghoul was enough for to hazard a guess, "We need to get the scribe to safety," he shouted as he neared them, "Inside or out?"
There was hesitation for a moment, "Inside!" the female ghoul shouted, "Get her inside, and you head straight inside, past the front desk, and into the meat locker. The doctor will take a look at you and keep you safe! Also, tell Charon to get his ass out here and help!"
He sat her down near the doors and he could see the desire in her eyes. He could tell that she was thinking of risking everything, of running back out there, and chance death to study the gate. Still she looked at him, and he shook his helmeted head, "Get inside, now!"
She nodded, ran through the doors, and then he turned back. He looked at the one that was helping. He walked near the T-45 armor and got his combat shotgun ready. The wearer of the armor sighed, "Just got here," a slightly altered raspy voice said, "Took a long walk from the outskirts of the Sierra Madre."
Vargas shook his head, "That's in Nevada, right?" he asked as he began to shoot at the slew of creatures that were moving toward them, "What the hell were you doing out there?!"
The raspy laugh escaped, "Don't go questioning your superiors, paladin," the altered raspy voice said, "But to be perfectly frank, I was checking something out for a friend. Let them know that there's nothing there other than a thick red cloud."
Vargas didn't argue, and he began to make his way toward the edge of the sidewalk, "I have to help stem the flow, hopefully our position at the monument has already called the citadel and requested more backup."
The other armored individual groaned, "Putting faith in them is a bad idea," he said, the sound of his voice closer, "As soon as backup gets out here I'll head over and radio in if they haven't."
Vargas nodded, and began to move. Red dots filled his HUB as he walked. There was a plethora of enemies, and not enough friendlies. Still a moment later he heard the unmistakable sound of a mininuke. The explosion rocketed around them, and he began to move with purpose. A moment later the sound roared again as another explosion went off. His drum fed combat shotgun roared and roared again as he spent the twelve shells and then changed out the drum. He began to fire again, working the pump action as quickly as possible.
He could hear screams, innocent wastelanders, perhaps merchants, perhaps civilians, all screaming for help. He moved, his intention clear. He followed Elder Lyons, he believed in the mission, and he would ensure that it was held. He was worried that the numbers would be enough to turn the tide against them. But then the glorious sound of Vertibirds filled the air. He heard the sound of mini-guns roaring, and he silently thanked whatever was out there for so many of the wonderful flying machines being captured.
In the end hundreds of corpses lined the streets, and at least a dozen of the enemies were bound and kneeling. They spoke in a strange language that sounded oddly like old recordings of German. He walked toward the group, and he could see that Woodward was still alive, but winded. Stockman was on the ground, three used stimpaks near him. From what he could see Stockman looked to be breathing, stable, and slowly healing.
Knight Adam Jefferson, a surname that he swore was the one his father used, looked to be helping Sarah. He wasn't seeing Knight Prophet. He noticed a scorch mark, and he could see something not sitting right. Getting closer he made out the blast itself. For the most part power armor was an amazing thing. It was powerful in a way that was truly hard to describe. It increased a person's strength, protected from most low caliber ammo, and undoubtedly would protect from normal melee weapons.
But the one fatal flaw in power armor was the fusion core. While the spot to hit was on the back, and usually difficult at best to hit while in a firefight, it was the one true weakness. He could see now that someone one of those strange fiery arrows had hit Knight Prophet in the back of her power armor.
"Not even a body," he said as he stood there, "There's not even a body left to bury."
"She's not dead," Sarah said as she stood, "She got hit, there was enough time, and I saw her exit the power armor before it exploded. We're going to check the bodies, check the trenches, and check the area. I'm certain she's around."
The news made him feel better, but at the same time there was no guarantee that she made it out alive. The blast from a suit of power armor going up was on par with a mini nuke exploding. It was almost a guarantee that others would be killed. Losing a soldier on the frontlines was difficult at best. Like most of the others he considered everyone with the Brotherhood to be family. They lived and died together, and that was true family to him. He looked at Sarah, then Adam and he nodded, "I'll begin searching."
He heard the Vertibirds as they landed, and the sounds of power armor hoping down from their perches. Four had come, and those four had cleared out the invading army for them. Whatever happened next would be interesting to say the least. But for now he had to find Knight Prophet, insure that the surrounding civilians were secure, and then give his own report.
The first thing he had to do, absolutely had to do, was check the bodies. Walking through he could see the charred remains of whatever those pig faced things had been. Among them were other beings, tall like super mutants, but they looked different. He could see one slowly trying to stand. It's arm seeming to knit itself back together in front of him. He walked over to it, hearing a grunt as it tried to stand, and he put the barrel of his combat shotgun against the back of its head.
"Not today," he said as he pulled the trigger and gave the not super mutant radical brain surgery, "And not ever again."
He heard the other knights and initiates working through the bodies like he was. Bodies of the strange flying lizards, the bodies of the pig-faced things, the not super mutants, the romanesque soldiers, all of them laid in eternal slumber. Yet, everywhere he looked, under every body, in every ditch, he didn't see Knight Prophet. His mind began to wonder if she was simply vaporized when the power armor exploded. It was technically possible, so could that have been what happened? The other part of him questioned if she might have either fled or been taken through the gate.
He shook his head. No, for now he had to believe that she was either here somewhere, or that she perished.
