Gate: Thus the Brotherhood of Steel Lyon's Pride Fought in Their Land

Chapter Five

(One month Later)

Star Paladin Vargas looked at the surrounding base. Currently they had two Vertibirds that were issued to their cause. Both of which had been outfitted with a set of miniguns. There were also extra missiles inside of the Vertibirds, and the targeting missiles that were set inside of the launch tubes were cleared for use. So far the Vertibirds had only really been used for the purpose of checking the surrounding areas.

In addition the protectron that was sent to them had been able to translate for them. Specifically it indicated that the language spoken here was a dialect of Angelo Saxon. So, each of them were issued a freshly printed book containing the Angelo Saxon language itself. It was close enough that the prisoners could understand them. One of them had made the mistake of insisting that Sentinel Lyons was a liability to them because she was a woman.

He'd watched Sarah step out of her power armor, walk up to him, told them to let him loose, and then she proceeded to give him every opportunity to best her. She flat out told him if he could beat her she would let him leave. She didn't just put him on his ass, but she had most likely busted one of his balls doing it. At the very least he was certain that damage had been done. As such he was treated, a stempak used, and he recovered. After that he refused to say anything near her. Personally, Vargas couldn't blame him. Having someone like Sarah put him in his place had probably been the best possible medicine that he needed.

Humility was often something that was difficult to deal with. He didn't know anyone that took to being put on their ass by someone they considered inferior very well. At the same time he understood that he would need to keep watch over that prisoner. The simple fact was that he had a feeling the prisoner would eventually attempt to do something to one of them.

As it was he was being relieved of guard duty, and that meant that he was going to hit one of the most popular places on base. His power armor moved toward the building they dedicated as the docking station for their power armor, along with the power armor repair stations, and he stepped out when he was at his docking station. He stretched, and he felt his back pop. While he wasn't an old man, not by any real means, he certainly felt the strain of the day.

Guard postings weren't as strenuous as they were in the capital wasteland. Granted, they still did eight hour shifts, but there wasn't a constant vigilance for super mutants or feral ghouls. Instead they looked for any potential of the opposing army to return. So far, there hadn't been another attack, and he felt that it was likely going to stay like that. He walked toward the showers, stepped in, and saw that several of the shower heads were occupied. Still, there was an open head, the stoves were going full tilt, and that meant that the water should be warm.

He stripped off, letting the air touch his sweat soaked skin, and he began to walk toward the shower head. There was a slight sound, and he looked to see Scribe Moore. She was undressed, and he could see the disappointment in her eyes as she looked at the now fully occupied space, "Guess that I was too late huh?"

He shook his head, "Come over, I'll share."

She smiled, walked toward him, and he began to question if he was doing the right thing or not. It wasn't uncommon for the showers to be co-ed for the brotherhood. More often than not both female and male members would shower together. There were always those that looked a bit too long, but as long as there were no actions nothing was said. He knew that he'd been looked at more than once, and it had been by both sexes.

He didn't judge any of them that had. Instead he considered it them looking at a piece of art, or he assumed that was what it was. It was certainly what he tried to think of when he saw someone that he felt a little physical attraction to. Right now he was trying to think that about Scribe Amanda Moore. Her body was fairly fit, but she did have fat in the places that he assumed mattered to her.

"God, this water is so good," she moaned as she took a bar of soap and lathered it up, "I didn't realize how much I missed hot showers."

He shook his head as he did the same, "Hot showers are a luxury," he replied as he began scrubbing and of course using the soap to wash his hair, "It's nice to have them, but there have been plenty of times that bathing came from slightly irradiated water in a bucket, a cloth, and a pouch of Radaway right afterwards. The first time I had to move through the metro tunnels until we reached Galaxy News Radio was pretty much that."

She smiled, "I can understand," she replied as she seemed to take in the feeling of the warm water, "After leaving Vault 75 I had to make due with finding whatever water I could to wash off with."

She stood there for a moment, and he could see a haunted look in her eyes, "I even had to bathe in what had been an old boxing gym," she said, her voice sounded almost flat, "There were bodies, raiders, lots of them, that had been there. Something had come through and wiped them out. I'd stumbled onto the gym during a radiation storm. I got inside, out of the rain, and I could see the raiders decorations, and then I saw the raiders themselves."

She shook as she stood there, "It wasn't the first time I'd ever seen anyone dead," she said, her eyes drifting toward him, "But it was the first time that I'd ever seen someone do to the raiders what they did to others."

She stepped forward, and he didn't stop her. She leaned her head against him, "We didn't know how bad it was on the surface, but as bad as it was, and it was bad, it wasn't as bad as things in 75," she said as she leaned against him, "It wasn't nearly as bad."

He wasn't sure what to do, so he settled for putting an arm around her. She seemed to accept the comfort and settled into his embrace. He could feel the looks of others on him, but he didn't push her away. Part of him felt it was wrong to do this. Amanda was ten years his junior. She was just barely an adult, and he was already thirty. Still, she was obviously suffering, and he wasn't going to turn her away.

"Thank you Andrew," she said as she stayed in his embrace, "Thank you for being you."

He shook his head, "I'm just being what I am, nothing more or less."

There was a slight laugh, "Thank you anyway," she replied, and he saw as she looked up at him. There was hope, desperate hope, in her eyes. She leaned into it, and he felt her lips as they brushed his own. The kiss lasted for a few moments, and it wasn't the most passionate thing he'd ever felt. But it was earnest, and that meant more than any random fling he'd had. He returned the kiss, lightly, and then she pulled back.

"Get a damn room, the both of you!" initiate scribe Lake shouted from her place in the shower, "I swear, we don't need a show in the damned showers!"

He spared a single glance toward her, hoping that she got the hint to shut up, and then he looked at Amanda who looked a little embarrassed. The both of them finished bathing, turned the valve for their shower head off, and then found their towels. They dried, grabbed their dirty clothes, and moved them toward the laundry hamper. Both of them then looked at the generalized body suits available and both took one.

Once they were dressed the two of them left the showers. The evening light had shown itself to be far brighter and less sickly than it was in the capital wasteland. The dust that blew almost constantly wasn't present, but instead a lush green field greeted them. Amanda walked beside Star Paladin Vargas until the two of them came to the mess hall. They stepped inside and he smelled the food that was being prepared.

The dragons, for lack of a better word, had been gathered and skinned from the battlefield. They had then been butchered, and after some sampling it was found that they had a very similar texture to deathclaws. The difference was that their meat wasn't nearly as tough. So, today they were greeted with a dragon steak a piece, some prewar canned rations, and a Nuka Cola a piece.

Both of them popped the bottle caps off, put them to the side, and began to enjoy their lukewarm Nuka Colas before cutting into their steaks. Andrew watched as Amanda moaned softly as she took the first bite of the medium rare steak. Andrew followed suit, and it was difficult for him not to do the same thing. The taste of the steak itself was deliciously moist. He wasn't sure who had cooked it, but whoever had spent time doing it right. This wasn't a simple throwing the steak on the fire and hoping for the best.

He cut another piece, ate, and enjoyed the steak before opening the can of beans that had been given to him. Like most other prewar food it was still good after two hundred years. He took the first bite and tasted what he had been told was tomato sauce that had been sweetened with a caramelized sugar. The beans themselves were soft, almost to the point that they didn't need to be chewed, and there were little chunks of meat mixed in with them. He wasn't sure what creature they came from, but he was certain that whatever it had once was pale in comparison to the dragon they had just eaten.

Slowly their meal ended, and he stood and carried his tray over to the station to leave them, and then looked to see Amanda following him. He certainly wasn't sure of what was going to happen, but he certainly understood what could be happening soon enough. He walked out and saw Sentinel Lyons approaching him, "Vargas, good I needed to speak to you and some others."

He followed her and he knew that Amanda was following as well. They stepped into a building which had become their meeting house. Inside he saw a few other familiar faces, along with some others that were newer to the base itself. He listened as Sarah stood in front of them, "As of this moment we are going to continue to reach out to those that surround us. We will begin in the local villages."

He could see the various agreements with her as various heads nodded, "In addition, I am going to ensure that those who have learned the language here the best are the ones going," she looked toward him, Scribe Moore, and then she looked at Adam, "We are dedicating two APCs to this. Each one is in decent repair, and I believe that each of you understand what is at stake here. We want the locals to become friendly with us. We want to reach a diplomatic agreement."

She breathed out as she stood there, "We're not raiders, we're not slavers, and we're not super mutants. We're the Brotherhood of Steel. We are the first and last line of defense for the people of the capital wasteland. More importantly, we are the very ones that are going to ensure that this world can help us repair our own."

There was a moment of silence at her words, but Vargas knew that she wasn't done yet, "We have to do this. We have to in order to ensure that the people of the Capital Wasteland, and beyond, will survive," she said, her voice passionate, "There is no other mission objective that is as important as this is. We have no other choice but to rebuild our way of life!"

There was a round of applause, but she held up her hand, "Thank you," she said as she looked at them again, "I want to be one of you that goes. I want it badly, but I know that it isn't my place. I need to remain here, and I need to ensure that our foothold here isn't compromised."

She then looked at them, "So, Paladin Adam Jefferson, Star Paladin Andrew Vargas, Sentinel Harold Reeder, Scribe Amanda Moore, Knight Kathy Woodward, Initiate Samuel Jones, and Initiate Lydia McKinze will travel out at o'six hundred tomorrow morning. They will ensure to take all necessary precautions, and they will extend a hand toward peaceful relations with the people here."

She looked at Andrew and nodded, "Both Star Paladin Andrew Vargas and Sentinel Harold Reeder will be in charge of this campaign. Both of them will ensure that it runs smoothly. I trust in their judgment, and I trust that they will bring nothing but honor to the Brotherhood. In addition, I want information gathered from the locals. Find out more about this empire, ask questions about their technology. We are going to attempt peaceful negotiations, but we will be prepared for things to sour."

She looked at them, "Good, that is all, dismissed."

They left, and Andrew walked toward the building that was his bunk. He didn't mind going out, but he wasn't going to lie and say that he wouldn't be missing his bunk. The bed was soft, the roof didn't leak, and the building was secure. The protectrons had done a fantastic job of creating it. He stepped into the building and he looked to see Amanda following him. He was about to say something when she leaned forward and kissed him again.

She pulled back, "I know, we're friends, and you said that we are, but well, I want more than that," she said as she stepped past him, "I want to experience more than that, and honestly I have more hope here then I did back over on the other side of the gate."

He looked at her, "You understand that this could compromise our mission," he said, his voice doing the best at remaining even, "I'm serious, if we step past this line then it could compromise my judgment."

She looked into his eyes, and he could see the determination there, "Your judgment will be sound, it always is," she replied, her voice sounding just as determined as her expression, "I'm not asking for anything that I don't think you're against. I have hope, a real hope, for our future here. Yes, I hope for the capital wasteland, but I have a true hope for what our future can be. We can live in a place that is exactly like prewar."

He could see that there was no talking her out of it, and if he was going to be honest with himself he didn't want to. Instead he simply nodded, and the two of them walked into her barrick. The lights were down, the common room empty, and they walked down the simple hall to the area that he had claimed as his own. The room was large, far larger than he was accustomed to, and they stepped into the room together.

There was no feeling of wind coming through the boards. Dust didn't cover everything, but instead it was simply peaceful. The room itself was heads and shoulders better than what he'd expected. They made their way to the bed, and he watched as her bodysuit fell to the floor. His own followed behind her, and together they crawled into the bed together. Andrew Vargas was multiple things.

He was a star paladin, a proud member of the Brotherhood of Steel, and of course he considered himself an honorable man. He felt that it was necessary to hold true to one's word, and to protect what was promised with his very life. To fail to do that would be beyond disgraceful. Still, at this moment he was something that had been far less than he would like to admit. He was a lover. There was much that he couldn't put his finger on, but he did seem to know one thing for certain.

Amanda was on the same level as himself. His actons were more of instinct instead of knowledge. He moved based on what he assumed felt right, and she seemed to do the same. Together they danced an ancient dance that had been done multiple times throughout the ages. A dance that promised the continuation of the species, and one that promised the fulfillment of love.

Slowly, their steps completely fell in perfect harmony, and their movements matched one another. One thing that was completely certain was that Amanda was not a quiet lover. Her voice was pronounced, and he didn't fault her in that. Slowly their movements ended, and instead they simply held one another. He felt the younger woman spooned up against him, her body pressed close, and he could feel the rise and fall of her chest from breathing.

Leaning forward he kissed the back of her head. Morning was coming, there was much to be done, and he would have to help ensure that it went smoothly. His eyes closed, and blissful darkness took him. Almost as soon as he had fallen asleep he jolted awake. He heard the sounds of revelry being played over the installed speaker system. He blinked his eyes awake, found Amanda still be bed beside him, and he could see that she too was awake. He looked at the time and it was already O five hundred hours.

He gently nudged her, "Time to get up."

She groaned slightly, and he watched as she scooted forward. He could see that she was moving a little stiffly, but at the same time there was a very real beauty that flowed off of her. She looked toward him, and he could see a look that he didn't realize he had been hoping for. He moved, dressed, and together they walked out and headed toward the mess hall. Once inside he saw boxes of Sugar Bombs cereal lined up on a counter. Jugs of brahmin milk were set out, and of course bowls were present as well.

The two of them grabbed a couple of bowls, a box of Sugar Bombs, and they walked toward a table. He looked to see Paladin Jefferson sitting across from Sentinel Lyons. The two of them looked as if they had just had a conversation that was already testing them. Still, neither looked angry at one another, but instead there was a sort of shared understanding. Seeing them together of course gave him some hope for himself and Amanda.

If both Sarah and Adam were able to make things work, and more specifically they were able to make things work while still serving in the Brotherhood of Steel together then it was all the better. It meant that it was possible. He wanted that for them, and partly he wanted it for them for selfish reasons. If they could make it work then so could he. He wanted to see it work, and he wanted to see things go the right way.

"Good Morning Star Paladin Vargas," Sarah said as she looked toward him, "I'm glad to see that you're up."

She looked at Amanda, "As soon as you're both done with breakfast I need the teams heading out to meet by the APCs. We're going to ensure that everything you need is loaded. You'll be taking supplies with you, ammunition, weapons, and medical supplies," she said before she shook her head, "We need this to go well. We want to get the locals on our side, and we want to ensure that whatever power that attacked us realizes that we are not someone to be messed with."

She stood and soon she was followed by Adam, "Finish your breakfast and meet outside by the APCs in fifteen minutes."

He nodded, and both he and Amanda rushed through their breakfast. Normally he would have savored the cereal that had one hundred percent of a daily allowance of sugar. He hated to admit it, but when it was eaten there was a sort of jolt to his system. For a few minutes it felt like he could do a few extra things in the time that it took him to do about half as much. He wondered if maybe there had been some kind of additive inside of them that made it close to jet.

Then again, stories were that jet itself had been made by some kid genius and sexual deviant a little while after the great war in New Reno. He'd heard the kid both praised as some kind of junkie god, and cursed as some kind of horrible depraved deviant, but regardless all of the stories talked about the perverted inventor of jet. Still, if he was to be honest he wasn't sure if this junkie pharmaceutical god actually existed.

Regardless of the fact if Myron actually existed or not Sugar Bombs still made him feel jittery, and he tended to be able to move far faster after eating a bowl of it. Both Amanda and himself moved toward the APCs and he saw the rest of those that were going standing there. Sentinel Harold Reeder was standing near the first APC. He could see that the oldest member of the Brotherhood of Steel seemed to be taking what they were being told in stride. Then again from what he knew about him Harold Reeder had actually been alive before the war. He'd been a soldier that fought alongside Roger Maxson and willingly split from the service of the United States.

The view of ghouls was fairly standard among most of the Brotherhood of Steel, but Harold Reeder was the exception. The fact that Paladin Jefferson accepted them, and actually held some of them in high regard was also one of the exceptions. Then again, he understood where the kid was coming from. He'd been fresh out of the Vault and happened along some of the better ghouls. The ones that lived in the Museum were actually some of the better ones in his opinion.

They weren't overly dangerous, and they seemed to actually be on sociable terms with most that stopped there. Still, he knew that all ghouls were a ticking time bomb. Eventually the radiation that turned them into the creatures they were now would claim their sanity. Their brains would rot from the radiation, and when that happened they would simply go feral. At that point there would be no going back. No matter what they did, no matter what happened, they would end up turning into vicious monster.

He hoped that Harold Reeder would be the exception. He was one of the Brotherhood of Steel that he held in the highest regards. His attention turned back to Sentinel Lyons as she looked at them all, "I'm glad that all of you have gathered here," she said as she studied them, "Today we begin the process of reaching out to the locals. Thanks to the efforts of Scribe Rothchild, Scribe Moore, and the protectron we were sent, we now have a firmer grip on their language."

There was a minor applause, but she stopped them, "Thank you, thank you all, but this isn't a time to be applauding. I am sending you out with the very real reason of becoming acquainted with those that are living in this land. If anything we can assume that they are similar to most of the normal wastelanders. They likely are people that are simply attempting to survive," she said as she looked toward all of them, "Sentinel Reeder will be in charge, Star Paladin Vargas will be his second in command, the both of them will direct this mission as I would myself."

She let out a slow breath, "We have a chance to establish something wonderful here. We have a true chance to truly begin healing our world, and we must take this chance in both hands and hold onto it," she said as she seemed to study them all, "Our prisoners had indicated that there is a village about six days away by horse. If the information on their horses are the same from Prewar we can assume that our APCs can make the same distance in about two to three days."

She looked at them again, "I am sending you with these two APCs, and I am sending enough rations, medical equipment, and ammunition to ensure that there shouldn't be any issue," she said before she seemed to relax, "In addition, initiate Franklin has medical training from Sawbones, according to our military surgeon initiate Franklin has potential."

She stepped away from the APCs, "Now, everything is loaded, get aboard the APCs, and fulfill your duties."

With that Vargas moved forward to the APC on the right. He watched as Sentinel Reeder walked toward the APC on the left. It made sense. The two leaders needed to be in separate vehicles on the off chance that anything were to happen. Soon the APCs began to move, and he felt the odd feeling of moving inside of a vehicle. It wasn't the first time that he'd ridden in something. After all he'd rode inside a Vertibird, but it was the first time of riding inside of something that was moved across the ground.

He felt the terrain under them as the large vehicle began to move through the recently created brick streets. Soon the feeling changed as the APC shifted. It felt as if it was close to tipping over, but then it corrected and he felt the change again. Bumps filled the ride as it rolled along its path. He turned toward the side and saw the now ancient locks that allowed for the armored covers for the windows to be opened. He flipped the lock, heard a slight hiss, and the cover extended out and lifted out of the way.

Before him was rolling green as far as the eye could see. He understood that behind them was the mass graveyard they'd helped to create. Sure, there were bodies left all over in the capital wasteland, but they wanted to be on good terms with the people of this world. So, they allowed the prisoners to help them bury their dead. When they were done the prisoners were escorted back inside, and to their surprise they took the duty with solemn digitiny. None of them complained about what they were doing, and instead they treated the fact that their slain brothers in arms being buried here as something dignified. Vargas had considered it a matter of practicality. It was better than attempting to deliver them all back to where they needed to go. Instead they had unintentionally created a National Cemetery.

As the miles slowly unrolled he saw more life than he'd ever expected to see. The rolling green prairies were like a small ocean of green outside of the APC. Its movements across the ocean of green was similar to that of a ship moving across the ocean of blue. The movement of it threw him off slightly, but he found that he didn't mind it. The same couldn't be said for Knight Andrea Woodward.

"Everything okay Knight Woodward?" he asked, and he watched as she shook her head, "The moment we disembark take a few moments to center yourself."

She nodded, "I will sir," she replied from inside of her power armor, "This really doesn't help sir."

He nodded, watched as the APC cut hard, and then he saw the first signs of civilization. There in the distance was a small community. It reminded him slightly of Arefu from the way it was described in the reports from Paladin Adam Jefferson. They began to head toward it when the intercom errupted, "Sir," the voice of Initiate Scribe Danvers cut into the space in the back of APC, "We've spotted a massive cloud of smoke to the west. It seems to be coming from a forested area. Do you want to investigate?"

He considered it for a moment. They were supposed to be meeting with the locals, but if they could gain information that would be beneficial to the locals perhaps they would be more accepting of them, "Affirmative, adjust course, inform the other group of the change of plans. Explain that we will investigate and meet with them afterward."

"Roger sir."