1

"General?", Preston asked.

He had found her in the middle of the street, at the corner of the Third Rail and one of the former warehouses. For once, or at least one small moment, the General appeared as if caught with her hand in the cookie jar.

"What are you doing here?", he asked.

Just before she could stutter, an arm wrapped around her.

"What? Can't stand the competition, Garvey?", Hancock asked jovially.

The General shrugged him off.

The Colonel still looked suspicious. "I didn't think any of us stood a chance against/"

"That's enough.", she told the two men.

The General straightened her coat. She also took a moment to glare at the Watchmen that was clearly too interested in things he shouldn't be.

"This is rather public, don't you think?", she asked.

Preston gestured to the warehouse, now bearing the familiar Minuteman flag.

"I have an office.", Hancock offered.

"This way, John.", the General commanded. And then she walked into the building flying her...the Minutemen's flag.

Once they were off the street, she seemed like her old self. "I am not ready to discuss my feelings about my husband, his fate or even the slightest consideration to another man. And that is without considering the fact that one of you is a subordinate in a militia I command and the other is an official in the government that militia protects. Is that understood?"

And just from the smirk on Hancock's face and the shift in Garvey's feet...

"Is. That. Under. Stood?"

"Yes, ma'am."

"Good."

She breathed in deeply. "Now Hancock, you want to tell me why this is the warehouse you chose to grace us with?"

"Most everybody around here likes to eat.", the ghoul explained. "And since the supermutant attack, I figured we might one day need a vertibird to land where Goodneighbor can get at it. Our streets don't exactly make for open ground. So I looks at the places we have for you to set up and I give you the sturdiest. Except for the hole in the top floor, it's as good as..."

He looked into the General's gaze. "Well, as good as things get nowadays. What? Four floors ain't good enough for you?"

"Thank you.", the General said sincerely. "I would have stopped pestering you if we had a single room in the inn. You've managed to outstrip Home Base."

"Ha! Take that Diamond City.", Hancock celebrated.

The General nodded. "And Home Base cost me two thousand caps personally."

Preston's professionalism broke when he laughed at the look on the Mayor's face. "I could have sold the building?"

"It just means you hold your people's best interests at heart."

"It means I'm a damn fool.", he groused.

"Preston.", the General attempted to change the subject. "What have we set up here?"

"We haven't.", he admitted. "An APC dropped by with our supplies for an office. And I've got Charles McKinney coming down to man it, since he spent some time in Goodneighbor."

"Charlie boy? I ain't seen him since...uh...", Hancock tried to remember.

"He gave me this to hand to you.", the Colonel announced.

Taking the handful of caps in hand, Hancocks tone changed as if performed. "Since he owed me these caps. Yeah. He, er, better had paid up before he showed his face around here again."

The General rolled her eyes.

Preston continued. "However, we have an entire building here. I've asked Colonel Shaw to allocate us an assortment of supplies, beds and food and water. It's easier to resupply Oberland Station from the Castle than here given the nature of downtown. I'm placing some more men here in case we have to mount a defense that Hangman's Alley or a patrol would take too long to respond to."

"And you're fine with that, Hancock?", the General asked. "A group of Minutemen stationed in Goodneighbor?"

The mayor shrugged. "I'm not so stupid as too think our walls are somehow better than Diamond City's, or that we don't keep the doors open at night. If your boys let the Neighborhood Watch take care of them while their in town, and their weapons on their straps, we shouldn't come to a disagreement. If'n they're all real boys."

Preston nodded. "Mark II synths have only be added to the mobile crews. They haven't even been issued to our settlements where there are civilians."

The General turned to Hancock. "What if someone was able to prove that a synth was alive. A living, thinking person: just like you or me?"

"Everybody I've stabbed to death was alive before I found a reason to stab 'em.", Hancock shrugged.

The General did not have a ready answer for that. "Well, if things are in hand here, I'm getting a drink."

The woman left the warehouse. The two remaining men looked at each other. "Alcohol? Her?"

2

The General nodded at Magnolia as she entered the Third Rail. The singer winked back without missing a sway to the beat. Rest of the crowd of drifters, people desperately trying to not look like criminals, and a few that were actively ignored everything that could have nothing to do with them.

She walked up the bar. "What'cha got for me, Whitechapel?"

The Mr. Handy turned to her. "Depends on what name you're goin' by nowadays, missus. 'Job seeker'? 'Our favorite Vault Dweller'? 'General'?"

"Thirsty.", she replied.

The machine could not actually show facial expressions or even shrugs. "Whatever you like. Got the best selection in the Commonwealth."

"Vim, Quartz, ice cold?"

"Not in the data banks, luv.", the machine responded.

"Nuka Cola Quartz?"

It turned away from the General. "That I may be able to drum up. Nothing to be done about the temperature though."

The General nodded. "Well, the times are tough all over."

When she was served, she opened the bottle, put the cap in her pocket and spun on the bar stool to face the crowd. Right into a Gunner.

"You need to watch where you're walking, sunshine.", she casually stated.

"I need to...", the Gunner gasped. The bald, white man adjusted his shades. "Maybe you don't know you're talking to. And if that's the case, there's a small chance you might live through this."

The General stood up and adjusted her hat of office. "I'd like to know every citizen in my Commonwealth. But when you're in command of so many soldiers, sometimes its better to be...known."

She punctuated her statement with a push against the Gunner at harness level.

"Gentlemen...er, people?", Charlie amped over his speakers. "I'm sure there's a way to settle this amicably."

Ham made his presence known. "Or at least, outside."

Both the General and the bald Gunner regarded the two. "Bah, it isn't worth it.", both said in unison as they turned away at the same time.

The General turned back to the bar. The man stormed out of the bar. Before the bouncer could speak again, the woman snapped out "Really, Ham?"

The ghoul thought about it. "No, ma'am.", he accommodated before returning to his post.

Eventually the bar returned to its active ignoring of everyone else. Only then did the woman walk out. Once she was in the empty stair well did she read the note that had been slipped into her pocket.

"Des agrees to terms IFF

1)Everyone she sends stays disguised.

2)You take the test too. Not just your men. You."

3

Deacon was holed up in a long abandoned hole in a building. He took the note out from under his harness.

"Turing test is go.

One week. The Castle."