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

Chapter Introduction

The sounds of music came over the radio as Paladin Andrew Vargas leaned against the wall. His eyes studied the ancient volume of Guns and Bullets he'd read a thousand times before. Sections of it had notes that had been taken. Each note was a reminder of how to get the most out of his weapons. In a way the old magazine was more of a piece of religious text to him instead of a magazine that promoted the sell of firearms. He'd found the insightful words of Harold Reeder to be factual and honest. The gun enthusiast had been completely honest when he compared the firepower of a standard combat twelve gauge to that of a single shot fifty caliber.

"Yes, shot for shot, the single shot fifty caliber rifle packs a harder punch, but one can't underestimate the convenience of a good standard pump action twelve gauge. Readers, if this Reeder had a choice between the two I'd take the shotgun any day. The plentiful supply of shotgun shells, the abundance of salvageable shotguns, all of it points to a gun that isn't only designed to last, but will have parts available for years to come. In addition, allow me to state the following. If you're facing something that a standard twelve gauge can't put down then maybe you need to question your hunting priorities."

He couldn't help but laugh at that. Of course Harold Reeder had been dead nearly two hundred years at this point, or he assumed that he was, but he hadn't been wrong. Oh, sure there was the undeniable truth that occasionally they had to face Deathclaws. A good twelve gauge would put one down, but it had to be at distance no one wanted to be in when it came to them. It was far better to use decent .308 or a .45 repeating rifle for situations. That was if someone didn't have access to a plasma or beam rifle. Honestly, he'd never been one for the energy weapons. He liked the smell of gunpowder, and he liked knowing that he had a set amount of bullets per weapon. He could reload just as easily as an energy weapon, and he knew that it would be set. He'd noticed that some energy weapons didn't have a set number of shots per reload. One of the knights had to reload after five shots with his energy rifle. Another got twenty shots of theirs.

He'd rather know that his .308 had seven shots, his .45 had eight, and his combat shotgun had been modified to hold twelve. He put the magazine down and looked at the crumbling wall in front of him. Being stationed at Galaxy News Radio wasn't the worst thing in the world. He knew that the kid, the Vault Dweller, had managed to get project purity to going. The fresh water was going a long ways toward making things better, but it didn't change some of the thoughts folks had toward parts of the Brotherhood. One of which was thanks to the Outcasts. They'd done more damage than good.

"Vargas!" a shout came from outside of his door, "Report in!"

He rose and walked toward his power armor. Grabbing the hatch in the back he opened it, and stepped into it. Feeling it secure around him was like feeling a second skin around him. He looked at the helmet and grabbed it. Last time he'd left without it a raider had nearly gotten a lucky shot. He walked down stairs and saw Sarah Lyons. She looked worried, tired, and more than that she looked as if she was questioning everything.

"Sentinel Lyons," he said with a nod, his voice altered slightly through the helmet, "How may I assist?"

She breathed out, "Vargas, if I was to tell you that a huge stone gate suddenly appeared near the Washington Monument what would you tell me?"

He studied her for a moment, "I'd question if it was possible that someone managed to sneak daytripper into your rations."

She nodded, "Okay, that's understandable," she replied, her voice sounding as if she was just a second away from having a minor freakout, "I need you to help me gather a few knights. We need to check this out. I need to make sure that I haven't lost my mind, and we need to report it."

He studied her for a moment and then nodded, "Very well," he replied, "We have a few coming in to help change out guard posts. I will radio a request for an extra three to assist the two of us."

She seemed to be fine with that. He walked toward their shortwave and activated the communication device. For a moment there was static, and then he heard the unmistakable sound of the other side connecting. He waited for a moment, "The ravens are hard to see at night," he said into the microphone.

"But it makes viewing them all the more rewarding," the other voice replied, "Paladin Vargas, it is a pleasure sir."

He listened to the feminine voice. That meant it was scribe Moore. He considered her for a moment. Scribe Moore was merely twenty years old, ten years his junior, and somehow she had managed to climb the ranks in research. From what he'd heard she actually traveled all of the way from the commonwealth. She'd explained that she came from a Vault. She further explained that her Vault was numbered 75, but she had left out the experiment there.

He didn't push, and instead he had seen her grow by leaps and bounds. She'd moved into the position of a scribe, and she seemed to put nearly everything into her research. Or at least she did that when she wasn't attempting to get his attention.

"Thank you Scribe Moore," he replied as he waited, "I wish to request the addition of three more knights. Sentinel Lyons has found something of interest, and we need to check it out."

There was silence for a moment, "Three knights, we can do that, also I would request that you take a scribe as well. If it is a scientific discovery, or potentially a scientific discovery, having a scribe there will be of great assistance."

He knew where this was going, but he didn't have the heart to tell her now, "Clear it with your commanding officer."

The faint sound of a giggle filled the room, "Thank you sir!" she said, the excitement was evident in her voice, "I will dispatch the knights as soon as possible."

Part of him worried about the young scribe. It wasn't that he didn't think that she couldn't handle herself. She had traveled four hundred forty miles to find the Brotherhood. That kind of trip hadn't been easy, not in the slightest, and there was little doubt that she had run into all kinds of trouble. Still, it was difficult to not worry about her.

Her boundless curiosity seemed to make common sense take a back seat when she was truly interested in something. And while they had done an admirable job of clearing the monument out there were still Super Mutants there. He certainly didn't want her being caught by any of them. Still, she was part of the Brotherhood, and all of them understood their duty. He stood and walked toward his commanding officer.

"Sentinel Lyons, request has been made for three knights. We also are being assigned a scribe."

He watched as she took a moment, "That makes sense," she said, her voice sounded a little more calm, "It's a discovery, and they will want to document it. Is it Scribe Rothchild?"

He took a moment, "Actually, it is Scribe Moore."

She pinched the bridge of her nose, "Paladin Vargas, you need to learn how to say no sometimes," she said, exasperation clear in her voice, "This could be dangerous, and we don't need to be babysitting someone that doesn't have the good sense to not stick her head into a deathclaw den just because she's curious about their potential social structure."

He somehow managed to keep from laughing. Her example was unfortunately very accurate. As brilliant as Scribe Moore was, and she was certainly brilliant, she did have a tendency to abandon common sense when there was the potential for a new discovery. It was almost as if the temptation of new knowledge simply overrode all of her common sense and became the single most driving force for her.

"I understand Sentinel Lyons," he replied, deciding to keep it formal, "But regardless we can't deny Scribe Moore's intelligence. Plus, if we're going to be honest Scribe Rothchild seems to have a harder time getting around. I believe a trip to the Monument Park might be too difficult for him."

She shook her head, "I can't argue with that, but she is to answer directly to you," she said, and before he could argue she raised her hand, "The girl is infatuated with you, and honestly while I'm sure she will obey all of our commands she is likely to actually hang on every word that comes out of your mouth. So, you are responsible for her."

He considered it and then nodded, "Okay, I'll make sure that she understands the situation."

She gave a short nod, "If they're leaving the Citadel right now then they should be here in the next three hours. Of course that is if we don't have more ferals in the metro tunnel."

The sound of the door opening got their attention. Paladin Vargas turned toward it to see someone dressed in a suit of power armor that was painted blue with yellow lines. The lines converged around the chest and formed the symbol of Vault Tec, and in the center of the symbol was a vault door along with the number 101. Vargas took a moment to notice the change in the attitude of Sarah. She would never admit it, and he knew that, but she had developed something of a crush on the figure standing there.

"Knight," she said as he stepped in toward them, "Good to see you back."

He gave a nod, "Good to be back," came the altered voice from inside of the helmet, "I'm reporting in with the information on the latest sites of Enclave activity."

Vargas watched as he walked toward her. For a moment he wondered what was happening, but then he remembered that the Knight had received a broadcaster from a group of mercenaries. That broadcaster of course allowed him to transfer information from his Pip-boy to other computers. The controlling matrix of the power armor was more or less designed along the same lines as Pip-boys. It naturally made him wonder if perhaps Robco had a hand in creating the power armor.

"Ah, I see that they're staying toward the more unsettled areas," she said as she stood there, "Have they attempted to disturb any of the locals?"

There was a shake of the helmeted head, "No, so far they seem to be focusing on rebuilding their infrastructure. I did notice a team apparently attempted to get into the Robco factory, but it appeared that they didn't expect the welcome there."

"I see," she replied, "So they ran into the robots still milling around in there. At least Robco's security dealt with them."

She seemed to consider something for a moment, "We're going to be heading out on a mission in the next hour. It's a scouting mission, and if you feel like you can put aside your current mission your help would be appreciated."

He watched as Sarah Lyons attempted to hit on the knight. Finally, after a moment he seemed to get the general idea of what was being asked, "Sure," he replied finally, "I don't mind to assist."

The look of relief was present on her face, but mostly because he'd been working with her for so long. He wasn't sure if the knight had gotten to that point with her or not. Instead he brought something up, "Oh, you might want to have a scribe look at this," he said as he lifted what looked like a slightly modified forty-four pistol, "I found it in the Dunwich Building. It looks like a normal forty-four, and it even takes forty-four ammo, but it does something weird when fired."

She looked at it, "Care to explain?"

He nodded and they walked outside. He didn't stop near the building, but instead he moved toward the ruins. She watched as he lifted the pistol, and then he looked at her, "You might want to put your helmet on."

Vargas watched as she rolled her eyes, grabbed her helmet from where it was hanging on her side, and put it onto her head. With that he aimed the gun toward what looked like the furthest ruined building and fired. When it fired it didn't sound like a forty-four. Instead it sounded like an inhuman scream. Green energy seemed to gather around it, and then what came out of the barrel wasn't a bullet but instead some kind of large ball of light.

Vargas watched as it connected with the ruined building and exploded like a mini nuke. Part of the building itself simple exploded out, and the top of it tilted and then fell in on itself. It was like firing a mini nuke, exactly like firing one, right down to the radiation that was left after it was fired.

"What kind of modification is that?"

He shrugged, "I'm not sure, but where I found it was in the basement of the Dunwich building, and someone had apparently named it Cthulu's Gambit."

She took the weapon, "I'll have someone study it, that's a promise."

He watched as she handled it carefully. Honestly he didn't blame her. The last thing he'd want is for that thing to go off while taking it. Seeing what it did to the building didn't make him feel overly secure in his power armor. Sure, the T-60 could in theory withstand a mini nuke, but it would still damage it, and there was a good chance that the wearer would suffer severe burns. None of them needed that kind of situation.

The three of them headed back, "Any other news?"

"Actually, Underworld is willing to assist with medical help," he replied as they stepped into Galaxy News Radio, "They said that they would be open to negotiations, but only as long as we were willing to treat them as citizens. Honestly, I don't think they're asking too much."

Vargas didn't want to mention that all of them were just a breath away from becoming feral. It was a very real possibility, and he knew it.