Begin Recording
Recon Squad Gladius
Recording by Scribe Ellison
I met my second Brotherhood patrol by accident. I was looking for the water treatment plant because we needed to repair it so we could flush our toilets up in Sanctuary and I somehow turned east instead of west. Everything looked so different and I was trying to remember roads that I'd driven on with street signs to tell me where I was.
So I was going down the road, realizing I was in the wrong place, when I heard lots and lots of shooting. It was just me and Dogmeat so maybe we should've just left but I wanted to see who was being attacked.
Short answer, a suit of power armor standing like a statue in front of a barricaded building was taking out a bunch of ferals. An infinite tide of ferals, more than I'd ever seen. So I got up on the barricade and threw my gun in on the side of team human.
When we finally ran out of ghouls I climbed down to see who I'd helped rescue. The suit of power armor took off his helmet revealing a man about my age, with wasteland stubble and tired eyes. He said, "Thanks for the assistance, civilian. But what's your business here?"
"Out scouting when I heard the firefight. Are your people all right?" I'd seen there were actually two other people huddled back against the building, a woman with a backpack helping a man up. They must've been staying sensibly behind the guy in the big armor.
The leader glanced behind him and the woman called, "He'll live. Recruit the girl, willya, we need the hands."
The man asked, "Where are you from and what were you scouting for?"
"Sanctuary, up north, and I was looking for the water treatment plant but I'm way off course. If this is Cambridge I went in exactly the wrong direction. Em Mason, and this is Dogmeat." Dogmeat yawned hello and wagged his tail. Maybe it was the fact that he didn't look like a raider dog that convinced them to trust me.
The man in armor sighed. "If I appear suspicious, it's because our mission here has been difficult. Since the moment we arrived in the Commonwealth we've been constantly under fire. If you want to continue pitching in, we could use an extra gun on our side."
I shrugged, "Sure. I won't make it home before it gets dark, so spot me a bed and my gun is yours."
"Good. I'm Paladin Danse, Brotherhood of Steel. Over there is Scribe Haylin and Knight Rhys. We're on recon duty, but I'm down a man and our supplies are running low. I've been trying to send a distress call to my superiors, but the signal's too weak to reach them."
"Your superiors—the airship?" I asked.
"Yes." He said. I'd been hoping for a little more detail.
Scribe Haylin returned from helping the injured Rhys inside. "Sir, if I may? I've modified the antenna on the roof of the police station but it just isn't enough. We need something that'll boost the system."
"Our target is ArcJet systems, it contains the technology we need, a deep range transmitter. We infiltrate the facility, secure the transmitter, and bring it back here. What do you say? Willing to lend the Brotherhood of Steel a hand?"
I was, but I wanted to know about a whole lot of things. I started with, "What's the Brotherhood of Steel?"
"Our order seeks to understand the nature of technology. Its power. Its meaning to us as humans. And we fight to secure that power from those who would abuse it." Suddenly his voice had emotion in it. Dedication, belief.
I asked, "What do you mean by abuse of technology?"
"Before the great war, science and technology became more of a burden than a benefit. The atom bomb, bio-engineered plagues and FEV are clear examples of the horrors that technological advancement had wrought. We're here to make sure that never happens again."
And I agreed. But I lived before the great war and knew technology had also wrought the safety features in my car, the vaccine that kept me at the office through flu season, Cogsworth who cleaned the house when I was at work or down with morning sickness. Hell, the baby bottles we bought were designed from the shape to the nipples made from special antibacterial rubber to keep babies from getting sick. So much of what we were doing in Sanctuary was trying to get back the benefits we lost when we lost all that technology.
I wanted to talk about the Brotherhood's philosophy a whole lot more. But this was not the time to drop the 'two hundred years old' bombshell so I just said, "Sounds like a noble cause. Those things were horrible."
"I'm pleased that you agree. There are very few outside the Brotherhood who appreciate the gravity of the situation we're facing as a species. So, what do you say? Will you help us?"
"Let's go find that transmitter!"
"Outstanding." Danse said, and smiled. Damned if he wasn't good looking when he smiled. "Head inside and resupply yourself, then we'll begin."
Inside Haylin was getting Knight Rhys bandaged up. She pointed me at a stack of ammo boxes and said, "Take what you need, we're sunk without that transmitter anyway. And you, quit squirming."
"You're all heart, Doc." Rhys grumbled.
"I dunno, your prognosis looks pretty grim. Might be more humane to just take you out back and shoot you." Her voice was gentle and she offered Rhys a med-x before she cleaned the bite marks down his side.
I refilled by ammo pouch and checked my pistol while she worked. The patrol had set up camp in the police station like the five of us when we first reached Sanctuary, everything mostly in one room. Sleeping bags, an oil-stained and tool-scattered surface where people had been repairing guns and a larger stain on the floor where Danse must have parked his power armor.
Haylin came over, drying her hands after finishing up. "Sorry about the other guys. Look, it may not seem like it but Danse is a good man. He's just all soldier. Protocol is his bread and butter. And Rhys… well, let's just say he's as hard-headed as a Mister Gutsy. But I'd trust both of them with my life, because they're good people and that's hard to come by nowadays."
"Understood." I smiled. I liked Haylin. "Why are you cutting me so much slack?"
"Ah… until recently I was like you, wandering alone. Without even a dog." She bent down to offer Dogmeat her hand. "So I know what it feels like when everyone you run into sticks a gun in your face."
Haylin is a lovely person and I'd like to steal her for the Minutemen. She knows medical, she knows tech, and she has a sense of humor. Rhys though…
"Think you're some kinda hotshot?" He growled, circling me and checking out my scavenged armor and vault suit.
There is no good answer for that. "Sorry we got off on the wrong foot."
"Just letting you know where you stand. You're hired help and that's all there is to it."
"Understood." I gave him a goodbye nod to escape that conversation and turned back to Haylin, "I've got enough ammo but if we have time later I'd love to compare gear. How'd you manage that double backpack?"
Haylin grinned. "Once we're not stranded here we can talk fashion."
"Can I leave Dogmeat with you? He'll just lie down outside, but if more ferals come you'll know about it. I don't like to bring him into too many fights in one day."
Dogmeat had indeed sacked out near the door, panting. Haylin said, "Thanks. We could use the extra warning. I'll get him some water and liberate a can of something. Come back quick ok?"
So Danse and I headed out. "Try not to fall behind." He said and I reminded myself we'd just met and he might get friendlier later. It was getting dark and I was glad we were heading down an alley out of Cambridge instead of deeper into the city and into the teeth of more ferals. While we hiked Danse told me about their mission, to investigate the situation in the Commonwealth and report back. They'd set up in the police station and were scouting for months and getting picked off one by one and then a super mutant attack broke their transmitter and reporting back had become impossible. They couldn't even call the airship to get backup. The previous recon squad had vanished without a trace and the one before that had brought back piles of technology and documents.
And, "Scribe Haylin detected some disturbing energy readings in the area that need to be investigated. We don't know much about them except that they're short-lived and broadcast on a frequency only obtainable with a high level of technology. we're concerned that whatever is creating these readings might be a threat, so it's our job to investigate."
Yeah, your guys had detected the courser teleport signal. The Institute had gotten a measure of the Brotherhood from the first squad and disappeared the second. In hindsight it's pretty clear. The Institute was watching Danse's squad too, and had eyes on the Prydwen for a while. They don't now, but Maxson's anti-synth measures didn't work as well as Goodneighbor's.
We had to shoot some mongrels along the way, then a radstorm blew up in the south and we had to run to get inside. We got to ArcJet systems just as my Geiger counter started clicking. "We do this clean and quiet—no heroics, civilian. We're just here for the deep range transmitter. Stay focused and check your fire, I don't want to be hit by stray bullets."
"Yes sir." I said without sarcasm. Soldiers.
Inside was the crumbling lobby of the building. I remembered the name ArcJet Systems, they'd been in the paper. Rockets to Mars, they were building a rocket to take people to Mars. Then other rockets had launched instead. So this was a high tech facility, the lobby was the only room meant for the public. There would be offices, probably on the ground floor because people in offices like to look out the window. The labs were probably downstairs where they'd be more secure.
Danse looked around at the grimy, collapsing room. "It was corporations like this that put the last nail in the coffin for mankind."
"Yeah?"
"They exploited technology for their own gains, pocketing the cash and ignoring the damage they'd done."
The words, "Well the Chinese did invade Anchorage too." came out before I could stop them. Again it wasn't that Danse was wrong. Corporations, especially arms dealers, had a lot to do with the war but there had been so much else too. Nate knew people who made oblique references to lots of situations with lots of countries. I don't know who dropped the first bomb, much less why. We'll probably never know, unless you all in the Capital Wasteland find the president's secret records or something.
Danse didn't comment but he looked in my direction before turning to head down a hallway. It led to what must have been a security room. A half dozen protectron charging pods and a few protectrons all over the floor in pieces. "Look at these wrecks. It appears as though the facility's automated security's already been dealt with. Damnit. I was hoping to avoid this."
"Isn't it a good thing? Less security?"
A sigh. 'Look at the evidence. There isn't a single spent ammunition casting or drop of blood in sight. These robots were destroyed by Institute synths."
I scanned the floor. Laser burns on the carpet disproved any hope that the protectrons had destroyed each other. Danse gestured at the fallen robots and we both bent to loot ammunition from their shells. "Damn. Synths, not my favorite."
"They're exactly what we mean by abuses of technology. Abominations meant to 'improve' upon humanity. It's unacceptable. They simply can't be allowed to exist."
I opened my mouth to say something about at least one synth being a pretty good guy, then remembered that saying things guaranteed to annoy your companion is a thing best saved for when you're not on a vital mission. Instead I asked, "Do you know anything about the Institute? People out here talk about them like they're boogeymen."
"They're a group of scientists who went underground when the great war started. Spent the last few decades littering the Commonwealth with their technological nightmares." He sounded so disgusted and I was… a little confused honestly, wondering what kind of terrible experience he'd had with a synth to make him feel that way. Turned out, none, but he'd heard all the horror stories while my first experience with an actual synth had been meeting Valentine.
We traded back and forth the bullets we'd scrounged, and Danse didn't argue when I stuffed a few undamaged circuit boards into my pack. He did say they'd be back for a 'sweep and retrieve' of anything advanced enough for the Brotherhood to be interested in.
We searched through more mostly ruined labs and then quite suddenly opened a door on a synth raiding party. Gen-twos, the same metal faced things that Kellogg had with him as backup. Danse waded into them, and I kept my much less armored self out of the way, picking off any synth that looked like getting behind him. It turned out the building was full of synths, there must've been fifty split into groups that were busily stripping the labs.
That's what the Institute does. They don't trade, they take. Prewar tech mostly, but if they want something else like resources or even if someone's grown an interesting variety of mutfruit the Institute's first go-to was to send synths up to grab what they need. They have teleport boxes that send supplies down, some kind of low budget molecular relay that's fine for salvage but fries anything living. The boxes also automatically go when the nearest synth draws its weapon so you'll never see them unless you manage to sneak up. Now that we've had a peace conference the Institute has to at least ask and they send up some really strange requests. All the corn from this field but not that one, prewar telephones that have all their wiring but haven't been irradiated, one bloodleaf from each water source, stuff like that.
Anyway, we found our way down to the engine core, a much more industrial section of the building, rusting metal walls. And no lights. The rusty sunken hallway suddenly opened up into a rocket silo. Not a real one, this was just the Arcjet booster mounted somehow for testing but it was a room several stories high with catwalks around it and the huge booster hanging ominously in the middle. Even after two hundred years a tang of fuel hung in the air.
Even Danse seemed impressed. "Look at this place. Scribes would have a field day in here. The transmitter should be in the control room at the top, but it looks like the elevators are dead."
I looked up, but enough of the catwalks had fallen down that there was no way we could climb up. Down was the only way, but there might be a backup generator or just another flight of stairs. So down we went, right under the business end of the booster. I wasn't sorry when Danse sent me in to scout the rooms around the test chamber; I kept imagining the rocket being destabilized by the vibration of our footsteps and crashing down. It looked solid, but it was two hundred years old and falling down.
The rooms I had to check were falling down too, and I had to crawl under some dangling ceiling. Rusty consoles and disintegrating furniture. Had to climb over a lot of chunks of concrete to get to a room with a working terminal. The password was 'Aries' and the terminal seemed to say the booster was still functioning. It also had the option to turn on backup power so I did that, and rushed back to tell Danse to get out from under the maybe-still-active rocket booster.
Synths had found him first. Dozens of them were dropping off the catwalks from above, he was going down under weight of numbers. I had ammo, but I didn't have that kind of ammo. We were dead.
But there was a big red button on the console, it had been protected from accidental pushing but the shield had cracked away with time. I found the other button, for intercom, "Danse! I think I can fire the booster!"
He hollered back, "Do it!"
Well he should know. I pushed the button. For a moment nothing happened and I thought I'd have to go down shooting, but then the looming mouth of the booster glowed white and flame blasted down.
Danse huddled as close to the wall as he could while the synths were reduced to ash.
As the booster powered down I was already trying to open the door back into the test chamber. It didn't unlock until the temperature was safe and even then it was like stepping into an oven. The steel walls pinged and creaked as they cooled and the floor was covered in a layer of congealing molten metal and ash that was still too hot to step on. Leaning in the door I called, "Are you all right?" and saw one gauntlet wave in reply.
Danse got up and pulled off his helmet and looked at me, sweaty and laughing in the way people sometimes laugh when they survive something. "Cooked my power armor. Don't even want to see the diagnostics, but I'm still on one piece if you can take the lead from now on. And it looks like you got the elevators working."
Ok, I was impressed. Danse gets on my last nerve sometimes but he can get up after being fried and just keep going.
I had indeed gotten the elevator working. We took it up to the control room at the top where we found some more synths. Thankfully most of them had jumped down and gotten cooked, so I took care of the rest. One of the synths was carrying the transmitter and to my great relief the service elevator still worked and delivered us back to where we'd come in. The radstorm had passed so we hauled ourselves back to the police station in peace.
Poor Danse was walking at about half speed with all the joints in his power armor seizing up. "Well that could've gone smoother. The sweep was sloppy. We were caught unprepared more than once, which is unacceptable."
"For one paladin and one civilian against that many synths, how much smoother were you expecting?"
The guy finally cracked a smile. "It was your extra gun and quick thinking that gave us the edge we needed. Without your assistance the mission would have been in jeopardy. It is only right to compensate you for your assistance during the operation. Haylin will have some caps for you, but I'd like you to have this. It's my own personal modification of the standard Brotherhood laser rifle."
And he gave me a very nice laser rifle I still use sometimes. And invited me to join the Brotherhood. I was surprised, I had not thought I was doing anything impressive, but Danse seemed to honestly think I had what it took to 'join the Brotherhood of Steel and make your mark on the world..'
It sounded good. Weapons. Power armor. The whole Brotherhood.
"I'm not sure I can. There are people counting on me and I don't think I can make any more promises."
But I still went back to the police station and helped Haylin install the transmitter and we made a nuisance of ourselves talking about backpacks and I tried to find out my new friends' first names. Haylin eventually admitted hers but the men wouldn't. I did eventually learn Danse's first name but I've been sworn to secrecy.
After that for some months I'd stop by and see them every time I was going past, we spent a lot of time talking about Brotherhood philosophy and life before the great war. Arguing as much as talking really, so I won't fill your holotapes with hours of that.
Me and Danse? Oh. No. It's the usual story: Girl meets boy, sparks fly, girl realizes boy is serious about killing synths, boy realizes girl is serious about being friends with Nick Valentine, sparks of a different sort fly… things never got too far in that direction but we ended up as some kind of… allies maybe, having a high ranking member of the Brotherhood think I had some good ideas was one of the things that made the peace talks possible. Friends if that word applies when we fight half the time.
