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

Chapter Six

The APC stopped in the ruins of the forest. Stepping out the sight was something familiar for Star Paladin Vargas. The destruction, burned trees, smoldering bodies, all of it lay in waste, and all of it reminded him of the Capital Wasteland. The first few moments they arrived to find the remnants of a war that happened two hundred years before. Shadows burned into the walls of some of the buildings, and the thousands of unnamed skeletons that laid throughout the area.

He'd long since stopped asking the normal questions about who they could have been. Most of the bodies were nameless individuals that had attempted to seek some kind of shelter and ended up perishing for it. Even those that managed to get into the Pulowski Preservation Shelters weren't saved from the horrors of the war. This was far more familiar in what it was. As he looked around he could see the similar signs of accepted familiarity in the body language of the others with him.

"Okay, we need to scout the area. See what happened, what might have caused this, and if there are any survivors," he said as he began directing everyone toward the directions of the burnt out village. He began to walk toward the center of the village and looked at the sight of a large open well. It was something that he'd seen in the more rural areas of the Capital Wasteland. Looking at it he saw the sight of something deeper inside of it. He leaned over and studied the sight for a moment, "Knight Woodward, Paladin Jefferson, report over here!"

After a moment both of them neared him and he pointed into the well. There was silence, and then Paladin Jefferson exited his power armor. He looked into the well itself, "I think we have a survivor," he replied as he looked into it, "I saw some rope in the APC, let me tie it off, and I'll climb down there and tie it around her. You can pull her out, and then send the rope back down for me."

Vargas nodded, and watched as he ran back toward the APC. A few moments later he returned holding a long coil of rope. He tied it off against a burnt trunk of a tree, and threw the other end down into the well. Vargas took hold of the rope before he began to repel down, "I'll hold fast here, get down there, check to see if we have a survivor, and then we'll do another scouting of the area to double confirm."

Paladin Jefferson nodded, and he watched as he repelled down into the well itself. For a couple of minutes it was just silence, but then there was a slight grunt, "We've got a survivor here!" he shouted, "I'm tying the rope around her, under her armpits, pull her up as carefully as possible."

Star Paladin Vargas held on for a moment and waited for Paladin Jefferson to tug on the rope. At that moment he began to pull and thanks to the enhanced strength of the power armor it wasn't difficult at all. He felt the resistance in the rope, but he didn't feel the strain on his arms. He continued to pull until he saw a blond head starting to poke out of the well. Knight Woodward moved forward and reached out for her. Slowly she was lifted onto the ground, and once there the rope was removed from her. Knight Woodward quickly tossed it back over, and let it fall back into the well.

A few moments later Paladin Jefferson slowly crawled out and looked at the girl that was laying on the ground, "Just so that I'm sure that I'm not losing my mind, we can all agree that we're looking at an elf, right?"

There was a moment of hesitation, "Yes," Knight Woodward said after that moment. She seemed to shake her head, "I do read, and we found intact copies of the Hobbit and Lord of the Rings. I've actually read them both, and she matches the descriptions of the elves in those books."

Andrew Vargas looked at Paladin Jefferson who shrugged, "Grognak the Barbarian," he replied as he looked at her, "She looks like the elves that were in Grognak the Barbarian."

He nodded and then studied her for a moment longer, "Okay, lets get her loaded into the APC. We need to see if there's anyone else here as well."

Both Paladin Jefferson and Knight Woodward carried her toward the APC. He did wonder if the old slide out bodyboard inside of it still worked, and if it did would they lay her on it. Of course he'd check for himself after he helped finished scouting the area. He moved toward the burned out buildings and looked to see the burned remains of people inside of it. The smell of cooked meat hung in the air, and he felt sick that it made his stomach rumble.

Cannibalism was one of the few things that was tentatively accepted in the Wasteland. The Brotherhood of Steel didn't resort to it, but he knew of entire settlements that had become cannibalistic. Those settlements often fed on raiders and bandits, but they were still places that he didn't frequent. He also heard the story about Andale going quiet. He later learned that it was an entire community of cannibals.

The story had been reported over Galaxy News Radio, and he of course learned that it was Paladin Jefferson that had put an end to that settlement. Two hundred years of people feeding on raiders, bandits, wastelanders that just happened to be passing through their small community, and all of it came to an end when Adam Jefferson found out what the meat was that they sold him.

Looking at the dead here he realized that the residents of Andale would have likely considered this a full buffet. He shook his head, trying to get the invasive and horrific thought out of his head and instead looked around for a moment. He didn't see anyone else, not a single soul, and he waited for the others to report back.

"Any other survivors?"

"Nothing but burned out houses and corpses."

He looked toward the voice, "It's kind of weird, but it reminds me of the wasteland," the knight said, "I saw the remains of Springdale, loads of death, destruction, all of it two hundred years too late to do anything. This looks just like that. Only this is a lot fresher. I wonder if that was what the first few people that got into fallout shelters thought when they came up to see the world."

Vargas understood the sentiment. It was certainly too late for any of them to have done anything then. It certainly was the same now. Whatever had burned out this village had already come and gone. There was no evidence of bombing. He didn't see the blasted out areas, the massive holes caused from the nuclear warheads striking the ground and digging the slight trenches before exploding and blowing out massive holes. None that existed here. It was just burned out with fire.

Still, out of all of it they had a single individual. A single survivor, a sole survivor so to speak. The girl was out cold, and currently their one medic was checking her over. Of course when they got her back there was the idea of having a better check done on her. Of course there was the fact that she didn't really seem to have a home anymore either. "Alright, everyone get back onto the APC. We're heading to the village, and we're going to tell them what we found."

He knew that they needed to talk to Paladin Lyons about all of this. She needed to be made aware of it. If it was a scorched earth tactic from the army that first came through the gate, and of course attempted to attack them on the hill then they needed a way to deal with it. If they were attempting to get on the good side of the locals one of the things they needed to do was ensure that their homes wouldn't be burned to the ground. He considered things for a moment and moved toward the radio. He flicked it on, knowing that in the open the signal could potentially reach the other APC.

"Clear skies ahead, I repeat, Clear skies ahead," he said into the radio and waited for a moment, and then clicked the radio twice. "Clear skies ahead."

There was another moment, and he heard a responding two clicks of the radio, "Dark skies are behind," came a raspy voice, "Star Paladin Vargas, what do you have to report?"

He was thankful that Sentinel Reeder was more direct about questions, "I've got to report about a potential situation. We rescued a single individual from a burned out village. What we saw there resembled a scorched earth tactic. Nothing was left, the entire village and almost every single resident was engulfed in fire."

There was another moment of hesitation, "Did you read any radiation levels there?"

He breathed out, "No, there were no stray rads. This wasn't nuclear fire, but it was fire. It could have been a small infantry of men with flamers, but even then the locals likely were armed similar to how the opposing army had been armed."

There was another pregnant pause, "If that's the case, and it was flamers, then arrows could potentially get through. Unless they are exceptionally well armored. Typical raider armor isn't much against punchering weapons that are traveling at a high enough velocity," Reeder replied, "Could potentially be better armored individuals, something along the lines of those that attacked us could stop an arrow in the chest area, but not arms or legs. A good shot in either place would incapacitate them."

He knew that the elder member of the Brotherhood of Steel was right. Plus, he hadn't seen the level of technology to guarantee flamers. Even though they were fairly low tech it still would take a fuel source, the spout, and the means to spray it. So far he hadn't seen that. He hadn't seen anything close to that. The other option then was what they were calling dragons. He hadn't seen those smaller ones breathing fire, but he had read some of the Grognak comics before. He knew that dragons breathed fire in those.

"It could be creatures we don't have knowledge of," he said after a moment, "I suppose something breathing fire is possible."

"Trust me, something breathing fire is completely possible. Near New Vegas there's a race of mutated geckos that breathe fire. They're exceptionally stupid, but they do breathe fire," Sentinel Reeder replied, "So, if that's the case then we might need to send a party out to hunt whatever this thing is down."

He nodded. Doing so would certainly make the local communities believe that they were on their side. He certainly wanted that for them. He wanted them to know and believe that they were here to help them. It was what Elder Lyons would want. That was enough for him to agree wholeheartedly with the suggestion, "With permission we'll put together a hunting party after regrouping."

"Permission granted," Sentinel Reeder replied, "Continue on to the village."

They began to head back toward the village. The APC again proved itself to be invaluable as it moved across the ground. Vargas stood in place as it moved, his hand resting on an ancient hand hold. The APCs they had survived the nuclear war. All of them had been recovered from the surrounding areas, and they had been repaired to operating form.

From what he'd heard one of them had sheltered some wastelander from a behemoth that was attempting to get to them. They had run inside of the APC and activated the old door controls. It had surprisingly closed, and the wastelander had explained that they heard the behemoth roaring and striking the sides, but it never managed to do anything to the APC itself.

He'd seen a behemoth take old Corvegas and stack them on top of one another. He'd also seen one strike the reactor on the back of them and toss them like grenades. If it couldn't hurt the APC then that spoke volumes about the armored vehicle itself. It did make him wonder why so many of them were left completely unoccupied after the war. He could see one being used as a means of a mobile mini settlement, but then maybe they were left alone because of the potential cost of using one. Then again most of them seemed to have been left in areas where there had been massive unrest. He stopped the line of thought and looked at their survivor.

"How's she doing?"

Initiate Franklin looked toward him, "She seems to have suffered some smoke inhalation, I'm seeing signs of malnutrition, but from what I'm seeing here she's mostly in decent health. That said, I'm not sure how well she's going to do once she's up and around."

He studied the Initiate for a moment, "What do you mean?"

The younger man shrugged, "I'm not trained in counseling, and honestly I don't think that old Sawbones would make a good counselor," he said as he looked at Star Paladin Vargas, "But she's going to be dealing with her entire village being gone, just gone. From what I've seen this world knows war, but they likely don't know this kind of destruction. This is going to be hard for her. Everyone she knows, everything she knows, it's just gone."

Andrew Vargas nodded, "That makes sense. We might see if there's a protectron that has basic grief counseling programming. If there is, it might be of some help."

He wasn't sure that there would be one, but it was possible. Maybe they could check the medical centers. He knew that there were protectrons there that were designed to act as paramedics. It was possible that there had to be some that were located in the same facilities that were programmed to deal with the overflow of patients that were dealing with grief. If what he'd read in some of the historical records were correct it was likely that there were several folks that were dealing with wartime stress.

At the very least it would be something to look into. Once again he looked out of the small viewing window as the APC moved. There was something to be said about the convenience of traveling inside of the armored personnel carrier as compared to simply walking around. Moving inside of power armor wasn't difficult, at least it wasn't as long as there was fusion core that was feeding the power armor itself.

Still, it ultimately was the same as simply walking. The difference was that anyone inside of the power armor couldn't just feel the breeze or experience anything outside of the armor for as long as they were inside of it. It was convenient in battle, but not so much when just going on patrol. Still, it made far more sense to walk in power armor instead of walking outside of it.

Ultimately it was still walking. And walking took time. The amount of land they covered in the APC as compared to simply walking was drastically different. It would have taken them at least a solid week of walking in shifts to get to the forest. And then it would have taken longer to get back thanks to carrying the survivor. His thoughts were interrupted by the change in the scenery. He noticed that they were nearing where houses stood, and he could see the village itself.

People were outside speaking to the others that were already there, and he felt the APC slow, and then it finally stopped. When it did he nodded to Paladin Jefferson who activated the door. It opened slowly, allowing them to step outside, and he could see the amazement of those around them. People were gathering near the APC, studying it, and speaking the strange language that the prisoners had been speaking.

He maintained a neutral face, looked at Scribe Moore, and he could see that she looked excited. She stood, and he watched as she moved forward.

"Tohyht færspell," she said as she stepped forward, "Wit anginn se broþorræden of Stiele. Wit anginn teld æt bot."

Several studied her for a moment, and an older man walked toward her. "Brotherhood of Steel, the other in the iron cart said the same," he replied, his wrinkled face showing age lines as he spoke, "He said that you have come from Alnus Hill. Is that true?"

She studied him, "We did come from a hill, off in that direction," she pointed behind them, "Is it different/special?"

The old man nodded, "It is a place of ****** many of us ******** that it is holy. For you to come from it raises questions."

Vargas listened to them, and after a moment she raised her hand, "They're asking about if we came from the hill. Which apparently it's called Alnus Hill. From what I understand it's considered a sort of sacred place for them. Apparently they think of it as a holy land."

Vargas rolled his eyes, "Of course they do. Next they're going to want us to simply leave, right?"

"Just a moment and I'll find out," she said before she turned back to the older man, "Is our being there wrong/bad?"

The older man shook his head, "Alnus Hill is sacred, and many believe that it is the **** for all peoples. But it is not owned by any. There is no reason to not be there."

She breathed out, looked back at Vargas and shook her head, "He says that the Hill itself isn't owned by any nation, and that there's nothing wrong with us being there. My guess is that the ones that commanded the army believe the hill to be strategic and wanted to claim it as part of their lands."

Andrew Vargas nodded, "That makes sense. If they claimed it then they could also lay claim to the gate. It would be a show of strength for them," he replied as he looked toward the older man, "Alright, then I'd say that we've already managed to gleam some useful intelligence. Let's get to winning the hearts and minds of the locals."

They began to disembark, and a few moments afterward he heard Scribe Moore talking with the older man, and he watched as the older man pointed to the elf they had rescued. She told him something, and he could see the color drain from the old man's face. His entire countenance seemed to drop, and he watched as the old man began looking to the sky. He continued to say the same word over and over again, "Liegdraca."

He noticed that Scribe Moore looked unsettled, "What's he saying?"

She shook, "He's saying fire dragon," she replied, "He just keeps saying it and looking to the sky."

He looked at the older man, then he looked at Amanda as she began to study the sky as well. He listened as she began to ask some questions. For a moment there was a brief hesitation from the man, but he began rambling, his hands making gestures about, and he pointed toward the sky and continued to make those same gestures.

"He's saying that the fire dragon is different from the ones we killed," she said as she looked toward him, "He said that it's several times bigger, easily dwarfing even a small castle, and seems to attack settlements without hesitation or pity. Sir, from what he's telling me it sounds like this thing could take out every deathclaw in the wasteland."

Andrew Vargas took a moment to process that declaration. One of the absolute truths in the Wasteland was how dangerous Deathclaws were. In truth they were often the very stuff of nightmares. It wasn't an overstatement to say that they could overpower a single power armored knight. It also wasn't an overstatement to say that they were exceptionally territorial. So, the idea of something that could fly and take out the deathclaws bothered him greatly.

The older man looked at them, and then he began to speak to Scribe Moore. Vargas listened for a few moments until finally Scribe Moore nodded and then looked at him, "Sir, they're explaining that it's going to be too dangerous for them to stay here. From what he's told me the fire dragon will consider this to be part of its domain, and it will eventually move over here and destroy their entire village."

He nodded, "I understand," he replied as he looked at the area, "I'll speak with Sentinel Reeder, but I believe that we can assist them in protecting them while they move."

She gave him a light smile and he turned back toward the old man. He watched as the older man seemed to look relieved after a moment, and he graciously thanked them. When he walked away he heard him shouting to those nearby, and suddenly they began working with a purpose. He watched as materials were loaded into wagons, and at no time did anyone seem to do anything to impede one another. Instead neighbors were helping one another load everything important to them onto the backs of the wagons.

He saw Paladin Jefferson assisting them, and he walked near them. He could see the Paladin easily carrying things that looked like it would strain a normal person. The advancements in strength provided by the power armor made light work of what they were doing. He observed as the Paladin spoke to them, and it sounded as if he was speaking as fluidly as they were.

"Paladin Jefferson, you've picked up on their language this quickly?"

He saw the nod, "Yes sir," he replied as he stowed the trunks he was carrying in the back of the large wagon, "Surprisingly their language is pretty close to the language used in the Beast Lands from Grognak. It's a little different, but I read that issue so many times that I didn't realize how much of it I picked up."

Andrew Vargas shook his head, "That's it, Grognak the Barbarian is officially on the research list. From now on I am going to tell everyone to read as many of the damned things as we can find while we're here."

He heard a short laugh, "Actually, Sentinel Lyons has already begun requesting that every copy they can find in the Capital Wasteland be re-routed to here. She said that there's too many similarities between Grognak and this world for it to be a coincidence," he replied as he continued to help the locals, "She's thinking that maybe someone was somehow linked to this world that created the comic. I made the suggestion that maybe we could send someone over to where it was published. The old Prewar city of Boston."

Vargas nodded, "It makes sense, but that might be resources spent that we don't have the ability to do yet. Instead we might contract some of the local mercenaries to do so for us. If they would be interested we can pay them enough for all information they can find out about the company and the writer for Grognak."

Paladin Jefferson nodded, "Sounds good," he replied, "I'm going to help them finish loading up here. They need the help, and I think that I can speed them along if I do so."

Andrew Vargas nodded, and then he looked at the others that were mixed in with locals. Some had taken the initiative from Paladin Jefferson and had jumped in where needed. There was no promise of reward, no oaths of aligning with the Brotherhood of Steel, but instead they were assisting because of the act of one of their own. He had to admit that Paladin Jefferson had an affect on all of them.

While he wasn't helping with the loading of equipment he did take up standing guard with those that were doing so. Whatever this massive fire dragon looked like he was going to be ready. He'd faced Behemoths, Deathclaws, and glowing ones before. There were things that he'd gone up against that were considered beyond deadly. His intention wasn't merely to survive, but to show the power of the Brotherhood of Steel.

He wanted these people to know that they were someone that could be depended upon, and he wanted them to have friendly relations. An old saying from the prewar military came to his mind as he assisted guarding those that were working, "The Ultimate victory will be won by the hearts and minds of the people who actually live there."