Morning in Sanctuary Hills. Mary Ann Shineder discovered her clothes had been burned and she was forced to wear whatever was in the wardrobe. The cranky guard captain was visibly annoyed that he had to take her cuffs off next to a smiling Vivian and together they dressed her in too-loose jeans and a Nuka-Cola tank top. Breakfast was a heady mix of hot porridge and "eggs", some kind of protein substitute for the real thing but she couldn't tell the difference. It was the second time in less than a day she had a warm meal that wasn't cooked over an open fire but the circumstances couldn't have been more different. Unlike the previous visit the kitchen was full and busy with dozens of women both cooking and eating. Some stared, some smiled but all looked filled out, tough, healthy. Not particularly self conscious until recently Mary Ann felt inadequate now in their company.

Next the professional, brusque and scary Dr. Page went over her thoroughly. The ghoul physician wore a startling white lab coat that might have been the single cleanest garment the recruit had ever seen. She sported gold rimmed glasses and had a cold demeanor like she was inspecting an engine instead of a person. The doctor removed a tick buried under her skin and Mary Ann found out what a speculum was. She also found out she had something called venereal disease and that rather explained a lot. Page gave her pills that would clear it up and stop the burning sensation, another tiny improvement of her life in a short span of time since arriving here.

Mary Ann sat in a small classroom near the barracks with the four women she'd met the previous night as well as a handful of others. There were men too, most of them young and well fed like everyone else. They all worked quietly on projects of their own, writing, reading. At the head of the room seated at a massive desk was an older, spindly woman holding court over all of them. She had a head of gray hair and lines on her face but like a number of people here had an intimidating aura. Also like everyone except the applicants in the room, she wore a well maintained 10mm pistol on her shoulder. It made Mary Ann wonder what happened to hers.

Everyone seemed to be at their own unique stage of the welcome. Mary Ann had a thick packet of paper explaining the features of the settlement, the history of the Minutemen, an explanation of the curriculum she'd be working on and a crash course of pre-war U.S. history. She didn't quite know what to make of it. To her education was knowing which wires went where, how to keep your guns oiled, where to get bullets, which places to avoid at night. None of this seemed to be interesting or even relevant. The rest of the room including the headmaster diligently worked, marking some papers, crossing out lines in others.

"Mrs. Shipp?" Bess, the former working girl, asked aloud, breaking the silence.

"Yes dear?" the older woman didn't look up.

"The Wright Committee was modeled after the Truman Committee from 1943, correct?"

"Correct, Bess."

"Was Mr. Truman's middle name Solomon? Like his grandfather? Viv said it was Shipp, like your name."

The teacher adjusted her glasses and smiled. "It's neither. The S is just S. It doesn't stand for anything."

"So it could be either."

"Essentially."

"And how did Ms. Wright come to know so much about him and his committee from centuries ago?"

"Brigadier Wright is a resourceful, well schooled investigator." Shipp corrected. "She admires historical examples of tough officials rooting out waste and corruption. There is another US president she knows quite a bit about named Theodore Roosevelt – yes, like FDR – with a similar reputation. We'll discuss it more when we have group discussion."

"I'm sorry." Mary Ann stood. "I don't think I belong here."

Her classmates looked up at her, then over to Shipp. The older woman focused her gaze on Mary Ann and then pointed with her pen. "Door's right there, dear."

"What?"

"Follow the road to the gate, you can pick up your things at the exit."

"You're...not going to stop me?"

"We're in the survival business here." she stated as if it were obvious. "Not in the business of helping indecisive young women make up their minds."

"This is survival?" she tapped on the packet.

"Every single word of it." Shipp nodded. "If you can't see that, that's your failing, not ours."

The teacher went back to her work, as did the others. Only Vivian stared hard and shook her head no vigorously, making a pained face. Mary Ann idled there, looking down at the papers with names and dates on them. Against her original purpose, she went out the door, disappointed. Taking the only road there was she started towards the gate. No one stopped her, no one questioned her as they passed or watched. The pills in her pocket would have to be her consolation prize as she went back into the wasteland. Everything told her this she was making a mistake of the highest order but this school, this non-essential studying couldn't have a good purpose. Worse, she had to admit to herself that she was not in fact a fast learner or even a medium speed one.

She passed by a house on the right and stopped. Green grass grew in front of it, hedges and rose bushes perfectly trimmed and pretty adorned it. Soft music emanated from within, something she'd never heard before. The blinds were turned against the sun and as she drew closer a more upbeat track began to belt out. This too she hadn't heard before and she found herself at the door, trying to listen. It had a faster, more upbeat, feel-good tone to it and Mary Ann tried the doorknob. It was open and despite the intrusion she had to hear a little more. When she cracked the door the music spilled out into the street and she stepped inside another world.

This place had to have been some kind of museum of the past, every detail perfectly preserved like pie. There were subtle signs of habitation but the living room could have easily been a fake home to show off the amenities of the settlement. The song ended before she'd taken everything in and absent minded her hand went to close the door behind her. She touched not metal but a living torso and yelped, spinning around.

The Minutemen general stood before her, filling the doorway, towering over her. He wore no rank or insignia, no special outfit or distinguishing suit yet she knew immediately who she'd come face to face with. She'd heard the stories, listened to the tapes but they did him no justice. He was as preserved as this very house, his features flawless and intact. The tall tales didn't quite live up to the real thing but everyone else had been right about one thing. His stare bored through her as if she was both the only person in the whole world and not even there. Mary Ann had never felt so small in her whole life.

"Can I ask what you're doing, in my house?" he spoke, his voice no deeper or louder than any other man's. Indeed, it was almost hushed. But there was a gravity in it that bordered on disturbing, like he was mentally dissecting her.

"I uh….I'm just….I'm….Mary Ann." she sputtered.

"You didn't answer my question, Mary Ann." he said softly. Yes, definitely a threat. She did her best to puff herself up.

"I've uh...um...covered a lot of miles to get here." she found a starting point. "Went through a lot of danger to get here. To get to you. Talk to you."

"About?"

"You've talked a good game. Spread a lot of it across the Commonwealth. I came to see if any of it is true."

"Couldn't have just asked around?" he tilted his head just slightly. She couldn't put her finger on it but his words seemed to be laced with the intention to strike a deathblow just afterward.

"No. I had to see you for myself. You're the one who put a bullet in Sarah Longman, didn't you?"

"I did." he acknowledged, not a blink, not a trace of emotion. A stone cold killer. She could have sworn his intensity spiked when she said that name but did not see any difference in his demeanor. Like a chill in the air that could be felt but not visually perceived.

"You buried her under a tree."

"Yes." he intoned, the sentence complete and deliberate. She was treading on dangerous ground.

"You never said where."

"I never will. Did you know her?"

"Know her? I practically am her."

He nodded. "Take off your shoes, and sit."

The general closed the door as she slid onto the couch and he went into the kitchen. Still in awe over the room Mary Ann slipped off the new leather thongs she'd been provided and her feet touched the springy carpet of the living room. Sinking into the most comfortable piece of furniture she'd tried yet Mary Ann's gaze lingered on the impressive stereo system to the right and the record spinning on it.

"My Girl, The Temptations, 1965." he answered the question she hadn't asked while turned around. "Proof positive the world wasn't completely doomed yet. Musically, anyway."

She bounced a little on the plush couch. The Institute Killer lived like a king. No, better. Even the warlords of the Commonwealth that ruled for miles usually did so from a throne of rebar and filthy blankets. They could not dream of perfect cotton towels and hot water on demand.

"Coffee?" he poured a mug, still not facing her.

"Are you offering me some of that 500 caps a bag stuff?"

"It's up to 600 these days actually. And yes, I am."

"Yes, please."

He came to sit with a steaming cup for her, complete with a tiny pitcher of milk. Just smelling it made her shake her head, being so obviously different than what she'd had her whole life. The former raider added milk and stirred with a little spoon, daintily sipping the wondrous substance. Like everything here, it had a taste to it at once familiar yet so alien. It was still food and drink but had no vicious aftertaste, no sneaking sourness in things that shouldn't have been sour. It was bitter to be sure but a kind of pleasant bitterness that came along with something containing actual flavor.

"This is just another day for you, isn't it? Waking up in your own house, drinking this shit that went extinct the moment they iced you."

He only stared at her as he sipped and she did the same. It took her a moment to realize he wasn't going to speak. "I missed your big speech. Was still running with the gang. Half of them would be shot on sight getting near Diamond City."

"You have poor taste in comrades."

"Until now you mean?"

"Until now. How did you avoid killing anyone for them?"

The suddenness of the question would have caught her off guard if she hadn't already been asked in exactly such a way before. Mary Ann understood now it came from the very top. They were not being rude or overly blunt per se, they were simply emulating their boss. Direct, to the point, no subtlety. "We rolled over a caravan. I...I shot her when she was already down and still. The congratulated me and told me my first kill was mine to search. She had some caps, some ammo on her. Practically nothing. The whole time I thought, I wonder what someone would think looting my pathetic corpse. They would probably be upset I'd have so little."

"I would be." he shrugged.

"Only a matter of time before I did it for real. For what? Some caps and some crappy bullets made in ghetto bullet press?"

"Why didn't you?"

Mary Ann was taken aback. "What?"

"Why not just commit to it? You were already running with the gang. Doubt that was your first caravan."

"You know what it's like. Most of the time it's intimidating, flashing guns. It's bad business to kill caravans. You want repeat customers, people paying protection money, not corpses with hardly anything worth looting. Most people will pay to avoid the fight. But then sometimes guys go overboard, sometimes they shoot back. Figured I could kinda just sit in the background and look tough."

"Couldn't have gone very long without eventually pulling the trigger on someone." he sipped his coffee.

"Probably."

"You must not have been at it that long. A year at most."

She smiled. He was good. She imitated him, not answering or commenting.

"What did you do before?" he asked after a moment.

"My parents died about three years ago. Nothing dramatic, they were both old and the same sickness took both at the same time. We were junk traders, salvagers. My dad tried to teach me some stuff about wiring and repair but truth is I'm not great with learning. I'm not great with anything, to be honest. I was starving on my own. I was thinner than I am now if you can believe that. I met this guy. He shared his food and offered to hook me up with steady work as long as I didn't mind where the caps came from."

"Gave you VD." he pointed his mug at her.

Mary Ann looked down. "We dated, yes. You know that hearts and flowers stuff? It was never like that. It was survival, plain and simple. I broke it off before I left. He's probably looking for me right now."

"Some unpaid debt you owe?"

"I don't owe them a damn thing." her head snapped up. "They just wouldn't let me go so easily. I know who they are, where they like to attack from, their dirty little hiding holes in ruined buildings. You've made raiding dangerous. That's not even mentioning the damn Brotherhood, strutting around downtown in their power armor. You know what happens when raiders go up against them?"

"Same thing that happens to everything else." he mused.

"I've seen a dude literally explode when getting hit by a gatling. Seeing something like that will make you question all of your life choices."

"Good." he nodded. "So why did you end up here and not at the business end of a heavy flamethrower?"

"We were robbing traders, people that couldn't afford escorts. Could have been my parents, could have been me. I'm not stupid. I know what I was doing was wrong. Where else would I go? What would I do? A lot of things in Boston can kill you. Stepping on the wrong nail could end your life. Winter could do it. So I guess I just kinda accepted it. Either the snow or some lucky shot or maybe one of my own crew would end up offing me. Same shit everyone goes through these days right? I'm not any different, I'm not smarter or faster or stronger than everyone that came before me. I guess I just figured that sooner or later my luck would run out, my gang would get clipped by someone stronger. Brotherhood catches us on a dark night and we all ended up getting mowed down. What's the difference?"

If she expected commiseration, she wasn't getting any. His face contained the exact same amount of emotion as when they started. "But then I heard about a man." she pressed on. "A man that hunted people like me for sport. A man that cut through entire camps without anyone firing a shot at him."

"Ah, now we're gettin' to it." he gestured with his mug.

"First tape seemed like it was a fake, a joke. Second one was Falcon Bob. My crew knew him personally. No one thought it was funny after that. Third one was Sarah."

That name again. This time he couldn't keep it off his face and his eyes flashed. He set his mug down on the table and focused all his attention on her. If she was expecting speech, he had none. He focused his frightening attention on her like a gambler watching a roll of the die decide his fate. Mary Ann drank her coffee and looked down into it, swirling it around the cup. She chose her words but they didn't seem right. She had been thinking of this moment for a while yet now that it was here she found it difficult to speak.

"I...I don't know." she shook her head. "You don't understand. You can't. You don't know what it's like out there."

"I know a little." he almost whispered.

"No, you don't. No you fucking don't. You ever see your own mom fuck some guy for radroach meat? So you would have something, anything to eat?" she wiped an angry tear from her eye. "This is your fucking house. Someone built it for you so you could live here and fuck off and listen to records and eat all the food you ever wanted. You wake up and judge us for crawling around in the filth like we ever had any other choice."

"You did have a choice. Not in the world but how you would live on it. You were shown a different way but you chose a life of predatory violence anyway. Because it was easier. Because you couldn't figure out something else. I'm not judging you for the wasteland you were born into, Mary Ann. My generation caused it. I'm judging you for knowing better and choosing cruelty."

Her eyes burned and she set down her coffee to wipe them with the back of her hands. This is not how she thought the conversation would go at all. "Is this what you told Sarah?"

"Yes."

"But you gave her peace anyway."

"I gave her a bullet right here." he tapped the back of his skull. "That's the only mercy I have for people like her. Sarah could have left Metalhouse and done anything. But Metalhouse was deep in her, no matter where she went. And she turned to the chems and the violence, repeating the cycle. So I put her down like a rabid dog. That's what I would have given you, too."

Mary Ann looked him in the eye even though she was still partly crying. This man was a monster. "She deserved it. She knew it. You know what? Fuck it. I would have deserved it too. At some point she made the choice I would have and never looked back. You could never know how much of myself I felt in her. She spoke like...she knew me personally. Her life was so much harder than mine. She had every right to be the way she was."

She gripped the mug so hard she had to consciously make herself loosen up on it. Mary Ann took a breath. She calmed down a little. "But at her end, you gave her kindness. You let her speak about herself, you gave her closure. You know Vivian?"

"Of course."

"She cried when she did her physical just because Dr. Page asked her about her arm. You did so much more than that. You hunted those bastards down killed them on the spot."

"Not on the spot." he corrected. "Some of them lived. But they wished to everything that is holy that they were dead by the time I was done with them."

"You avenged her. Someone you'd never met before. But not just for her. It was all for us though, right? The whole point was to steer people away from raiding?"

"Among other things."

"Well here I am. I did everything you wanted, I quit the gang, I risked everything to come all the way here on foot. I'm a nobody with nothing, except VD and the clothes you gave me. So what's it going to be, Institute Killer? Are you going to save me or send me back to do some stupid bullshit training packet or whatever?"

"The entry program and packet were my idea, actually." he crossed his arms.

"Well, I uh, I mean I'm just not good at that kind of thing."

"I'm not in the business of saving people. I am in the business of giving people a chance to save themselves. You said it yourself. There's nothing out there for you except more of the same. I'm offering you a different path but make no mistake, it will be your own two hands that carves out this path and no one else's."

"I get that. I don't get the history lessons."

"I told you what I wanted. Elections. Law. Government. By the people, for the people. You cannot understand what it is you're voting for or even why you're voting in the first place without a basic understanding of the civics involved. Every American in 2076 understood on a basic level how their system worked and where it came from."

"And the rest of the questions? The packet is huge."

"We're trying to determine what you have aptitude for. That's not the same as skills or interests. Dr. Page is the best physician I know but she has something of a dislike of people if you can believe that."

"I can believe it real easy." Mary Ann shuddered.

"I know a former caravan guard that turned out to be an ace chemist. My best dispatch courier used to be a fat guy that worked in the mess hall. He can run twenty miles a day now. What I want from you is the same as anyone that comes to us. Your hard work, your earnest best, your life energy channeled towards a community that will give back to you as much as you give to it. We don't do charity, we don't hand out free meals. You will work hard, you will study hard and you will earn your place here, not be given one. If you have the backbone for it."

"I will. I mean I do."

He leaned back on the couch, relieving her of his gaze, looking up at the ceiling. "I'll tell you something I've never told anyone."

"What?" Mary Ann leaned forward.

"Sarah Longman's last words, unrecorded. She said she wished she had somewhere to go. That I'd woken up sooner to form the Minutemen while she still had a chance." He turned to her to match her stare, that unnerving, quietly intense look in his eyes. "That person is you now, Mary Ann Shineder. It is you who are on trial, to see if Sarah was on to something. To see if she would have come in from the cold as you have now and turned her life around. You will not fail her, or fail me."

"You won't regret it." she shook her head vigorously. "I will. I won't fail. I won't give up. You believed in her, believe in me now."

He looked at her severely but nodded. "I don't do belief. I do action. Show me. Get back to class."

Mary Ann practically bolted out the door.