1

The General hung her legs over the wall of the Castle with the rebuilt wharf in it. It was peaceful...in that the Gunners showed no sign of having a naval force and that the sky was temporarily clear of the threat of bombarding the world with a return of the radioactivity humanity spewed into it and the Glowing Sea and the ocean and well, everywhere. It still was not her college quad experience. She had her reports from the weeks she was away, the top of the Castle's wall seemed to support what passed for grass in the post apocalypse and it was breezy enough. But like so many things in this world, it was what it was.

A woman in an ASSAULT GAS MASK and non-descript clothing sat down next to her. A Minutemen approached. Two soulful glares that transcended the lenses that covered the eyes that generated them were cast his way. The man executed a smart about-face and wandered away.

"So, you ordered me to inform you /"

"When you got solid proof.", the General reminded.

Desdemona nodded. "Does a Brotherhood of Steel agent count?"

The General let out a girlish squeal and grabbed her colonel's arm. "And you didn't tell me?"

"You were in a closed off operation in the field.", the intelligence leader countered. "The only entry for a Railroad plant was on one of the boats that aided in the river crossing, which wouldn't have worked because vessel crews are small enough to know one another."

The General nodded. "Okay. Tell me what you know about the agent now."

"Well, she's not saying anything about anything.", Desdemona warned. "Except, you know, the hate. Civilians are incompetent this, wastelanders are useless that, synths and ghouls and anything that came about post-war shouldn't be considered people..."

"And how do you know that this is really a Brotherhood member and not someone who just shares their bigotry but couldn't make their cut?", the General asked.

"The dog tags described the person wearing them. And she only had the one set, so I doubt she's a scavver.", was the answer.

The General turned out to sea. "Stop her interrogation."

"Excuse me?", the Colonel objected. "With the Brotherhood encroaching on the Commonwealth because this war with the Gunners has weakened it, we need to know what their leaderships assessment is."

The General shook her head. "We already do. They have enough reports to warrant sending in agents. They don't know enough specifics to launch an organized operation. Nor are they confident enough in its success that they want to stamp their name on the side.

"End the interrogation. Keep the agent contained. We need her as she's the only proof we have of Brotherhood interference. That's an order."

Desdemona thought for a moment. "I don't get it. Her corpse and dogtags would be enough evidence of the Brotherhood's presence, right?"

"Not politically.", the General explained. "Everything about the Gunner war is dragging on into some future schedule. While everything on paper says that the Minutemen will win (our economy, our superior population, Brandis' fielded equipment, and the like), the war itself is proving to be this long expansive campaign. We come up with something and they adapt. They push our buttons and we push back. Hell, how many Assaultrons have yet to be fielded by their side?

"It's about time I tried to handle this the way I got to be General: personally."

"What?"

"When I was working with the Railroad and the Minutemen to find my son, I was doing the missions that built my reputation across the Commonwealth. I've even done the same sort of ops for the Institute. I've personally sunk the Prydwyn. You were there when I staged the Railroad's elimination. Maybe it's my pre-war biology, my pre-war military training or just expert use of a PIP-BOY. It seems like I'm meant to do this on my own."

Desdemona pointed out, "The colonels will never allow that. The council will never allow that."

"And that's why I'm not telling them.", the General said. "You are.

"You're right for all the reasons that exist. Preston would rather march into Gunner Plaza itself than let me hit the field alone. The council pull every backstabbing move they could think of to keep me in the Castle, from accusing me of desertion to attempting to oust me as General so I could be ordered to stay. So after I've left, you're going to make sure Garvey, Brandis, Zao and Shaw know that I've hit the field."

"To do what?", the spy head asked.

"Assassinate Cypress?", the General mused. "Find some weak point in their tank or Assaultron ranks and exploit it, turning the Gunner strength upon the Gunner force? I always found something. I even found a way into the Institute by pressing hard enough."

"You know that just because I know you're capable of it, doesn't mean everyone else will accept that you're capable of it. Don't you, Bullseye?", Desdemona emphasized.

"Bullseye?", the General asked.

"If you're going to act like an Heavy, you're going to get treated like a Heavy.", Desdemona replied. "Besides, what did you expect - me to call you by your real name?"

"It would be nice if someone did. Between 'Blue' and 'General' and 'Bullseye' and whatever long-winded nonsense Travis broadcasts across Diamond City Radio, I might end up forgetting what it was."

2

"Dr. Binet, is what I requested ready?", the Director asked.

"Yes, Direc...oh my.", the Robotics member exclaimed.

Despite having come deep inside the Institute, possibly the most secure location on the planet if not just the Commonwealth, the Director stood in a shifting hue power armor.

"What is that and why is it in our production facility?", Alan asked.

"When I was at Nuka-World, I managed to lay my hands on this X-01 power armor. It's layered with Mark VI plates and marked with some experimental Quantum-based coating that Nuka-Cola's top chemical engineers were working with the pre-war military to...do...something. After I get through with my mission, I'll let you examine the armor as long as you don't take a sample. Okay?"

"I'm sorry.", Dr. Binet relexively apologized. "Mission? But you're the director."

"Please don't make me go through what I avoided top-side with everyone down here.", the Director pleaded. "The war with the Gunners has to be shaken up. If I can do that, then I have to try. So just tell me, where are the engineering synths I've asked for?"

The scientist nodded. "Isabel has them. She seems to be able to socialize with the artificial way more than her fellow Institute members. I should probably be calling her 'Dr. Cruz' by now. But she just comes in, drops off a design from an approach we would have never thought of and back into her office."

"Well, get the synths. We're hitting the field."