A/N: Well hello there and we're back, this time with twice the supersoldiers! If the title doesn't give it away already, it's time to encounter the Commonwealth's boogeyman: Coursers (well okay, people there are scared of synths in general but hey). I wasn't overly impressed with the Coursers in the game, not a huge surprise, so I added something... different to make things more interesting. We're getting close to the Institute, but unlike the game, there are multiple other forces at play. Things are about to get interesting... Anyways, I hope you all enjoy and make sure to leave a review!
Chapter 18: Which Version is Better?
By the time we left Virgil's hideout, Nate was starting to feel the more severe symptoms of dehydration. He complained of a headache before we'd gotten back to I-95, and muscle soreness as we rejoined highway 1. It wouldn't be long before he started cramping and with a full day's hump ahead, that could be trouble.
Our journey back through the irradiated rolling hills full of death and decay was, somehow, even quieter than the trip out. Not just fewer odd creatures attacking us, since most of those had already died, but even Nate seemed more muted. It wasn't frustration anymore, or at least not all of it. I was tempted to ask, but my attention had to remain on our perpetually hostile surroundings.
As usual though, the ex-soldier eventually decided to broach the subject himself.
We stopped just on the north side of the crater where I'd had my first encounter with Deathclaws. Yeah… that was a good fight.
Nate was beginning to struggle, even with the power armor doing most of the work. I practically had to drag the man up the steep crater wall. That wasn't easy considering the sickly, damp ground barely wanted to support my own weight.
"Care to explain what happened with Virgil", my companion said as I took a minute to let him rest at the edge of the massive scar. His tone bordered on accusatory.
The ex-soldier was undoubtedly referring to me losing my temper. "He's a Supermutant."
"So, what, you're going to lose your shit every time you see one?"
It was a fair question. Even though he knows what happened to me, and he knows what happened in the West Everett Estates, there's no way I can make him understand it. That's no excuse though, and I've been using my recovering memories as one for the past week.
"No."
"You sure? Because I think there are enough things out here trying to kill me without adding you to the list."
So that's it: I'd scared him. I couldn't blame the ex-soldier for that either. Even so, I'm not going to stand here and get a dressing down.
"You'll know if I'm trying to kill you." Or, more likely, you won't.
He snorted. "That's comforting."
There's nothing I can, or want to, say about my current internal predicament. If he's going to believe I can keep my head on, I'll just have to do it.
"I'm good. Let's get moving before you cramp again."
The ex-soldier clearly wasn't satisfied with the short exchange, but that was his problem. Mine is making sure nothing like that happens again. Restrained fury is something I'm accustomed to, something I've used on countless occasions. What I've been feeling over the past few weeks hasn't been that.
I began north, up the destroyed highway nestled in the divot between hills.
"So how do we play this", Nate asked a few minutes later. I guess the 24 hours of relative silence was getting to him. The first half of the journey out had been quiet, he must be making up for it now.
The ex-soldier's voice was still tight, but he'd learned enough to know I wasn't interested in discussing my outburst. "We can't give the Brotherhood the plans to this Signal Interceptor. And we still need to figure out how to get the kids to Sanctuary."
Telling them about the Courser chip would be equally problematic. We don't know what their capacity is to reverse engineer technology like that. Is there anyone else who would be able to use the chip? Sturges might be helpful here; he's aware of the Institute, has a relatively advanced knowledge base, and I had the feeling he has more information than he told me. If he doesn't know how to access whatever information we need from the Courser chip, there can't be too many people around here who would. He may know who can.
"Sturges might know something that can help."
"Sturges?" I glanced at the ex-soldier. He didn't remember- right, he only spent two days in Sanctuary.
"He's the engineer living in Sanctuary."
"You think he'd be able to do this?" Incredulity had replaced the irritation in the armored man's voice.
"Don't know. He might know someone who can."
Silence reigned for a few minutes as we continued along the patchwork highway. The situation had become annoyingly complicated. The Brotherhood was the biggest roadblock, but the lack of information and available resources was becoming more prevalent. I never had to deal with issues like this; ONI had the best technology available, and if I found something new on an op, it generally wasn't critical to my mission objectives. Now-
"Shit."
Nate thudded down to the muddy remains of the road and my head whipped around. Where was the shooter? I hadn't heard any impact or report, but I'd learned long ago to never assume anything.
"Status?"
"Goddammit", he groaned. "I'm good. My hamstring tried to kill me."
I looked down at the ex-soldier who had an armored hand pressed to the back of his left leg. A pang of amusement rolled through my gut. Unfortunately, I know exactly the type of cramp he's talking about. Sometimes you wish it had killed you.
"You know, why aren't you dehydrated?" He sounded indignant.
"I am", I said, kneeling to help him back to his feet. I'd begun feeling an all too familiar dull ache behind my eyes around the time we got to the south end of the crater.
"Sure doesn't seem like it." I hoisted him into a standing position and shrugged. "I guess you're just better than me." Some of the ex-soldier's customary sarcasm started pushing through his bitter tone.
There was no resisting taking that stab. "Guess so."
He stared at me for a moment as he steadied himself. I could feel his eyes narrowed behind the helmet's lenses. "Was that… a joke?"
I shrugged again. "Only half of it."
"You know, you're an asshole." There was a soft laugh trailing his insult.
We began walking again, Nate limping noticeably, even with the armor. "Well I was going to say that might work for getting information about the chip, but what do we give Maxson?"
No ideas jumped to mind. Outright lying wouldn't work, I don't know enough about the Institute to do so convincingly, and as much as I'd like to, we can't leave yet. Until we get to the Institute, we'd be vulnerable.
"I wonder if they know about the teleporter network", the ex-soldier mused. "It might not matter. If we tell them about it without letting Maxson know we know how to use it, maybe, we might be able to buy ourselves some time." I met his gaze. "We tell them we need to find a way to access it. Virgil's story about how he escaped might be useful for selling that one too."
"How much did he want before releasing Cassandra, Thomas, and Julian."
"He didn't say. Have you figured out how we're going to get them out without being followed to Sanctuary?"
I nodded. "We need to keep them in Diamond City until we're ready to cut ties with the Brotherhood."
"Care to explain?"
"The longer they stay, the more relaxed whoever the Brotherhood have stationed in the city will be. I take them up to Sanctuary, alone, once we've made contact with the Institute."
The ex-soldier cocked his head. "Alone?"
"The fewer people the better. You can be a distraction to give us a head start."
He hesitated for a moment, still staring at me through the slits in his helmet. Even without seeing his face, I could tell that stung. My companion already felt like dead weight, and now I was taking away his opportunity to help the three of them get to safety.
"I take it you don't feel like debating that?"
"No. This isn't just about protection, it's about footprint."
After another moment's pause, he took a deep breath. "You make things both really easy and really hard at the same time."
"Whatever gets the job done."
The ex-soldier turned away and began studying our surroundings very intently. "I know", he said, barely a whisper. Another deep breath. "Okay, I'll talk to Maxson when we get back and debrief him on the teleportation system. I don't know if that will be enough for him to let us take the kids to Diamond City, but whenever that happens, I know someone there who might be willing to watch them."
Someone besides Ellie and Valentine? "Who?"
He groaned. "Piper Wright. A reporter. We met at the market. She heard I'm from 'down south' and wants to do an interview. I might be able to get her to let them stay in return."
Put those kids in a stranger's house? That sounded like a really bad idea.
"Don't worry about her", Nate said, as if reading my thoughts, "Piper and her sister, Nat, are good people. A lot of people in the town like them, so as long as the kids don't go wandering off, they should be safe."
"Do you have any guarantees about that?"
"No, but unless you know someone else in town, she's the best option we have."
The rebuttal was only half sarcastic.
Hmm. Working with a reporter sounded… horrible. I never had to deal with that, for obvious reasons, but I know plenty of IV's had to suffer through interviews and press events.
But Nate is right. The only other option is we cut ties with the Brotherhood early, which makes getting to the Institute exponentially more dangerous. Even so, I wasn't going to let her watch after the trio without getting a read on her first.
"I'll need an introduction first."
I felt the ex-soldier flash me a glance. "I know I won't be able to talk you out of that, but you'll regret it."
Oh, I know. She wasn't just a reporter, this Piper Wright was a reporter who had never seen or heard of a SPARTAN in a place where technology was as valuable as gold. But that didn't matter. Enduring the pestering questions that were sure to follow was worth's price of admission to make sure the three of them had a safe place to wait for a little while.
"It's fine."
"Just making sure you know what you're getting into." He chuckled. "Now we just have to make sure we get this 'Courser'. Think I might hang back and watch you work this time."
"Deathclaws?"
"I didn't want to be anywhere near those either."
"You aren't still upset?"
There was another short pause before the ex-soldier answered. "About being useless in a fight?" He grunted. "If you can deal with what happened to you, and get past the whole Supermutant thing, I can get over you doing the fighting. At least until we're shooting at regular people, not mutated monsters and supersoldiers. Whatever gets the job done, right?"
I met his gaze again. There was a note of grim determination in his voice. It was a tone I hadn't heard since he first made up his mind to head out across an unknown, likely hostile wasteland with nothing but the jumpsuit he'd been wearing.
"Right", I said with a nod.
"So we report back to Maxson, you go to CIT and hunt down a Courser while I work on getting Cassandra, Thomas, and Julian away from the Brotherhood."
Leave Nate alone at the airport with the trio? Nothing to buffer the Brotherhood's threat?
If he's going to swallow his pride and trust me with fighting, the least I can do is return the favor.
The situations are different: I'm dealing with physical threats, he's dealing with both physical and political.
And what happens if I'm there to deal with the physical threats? As much as I like to say otherwise, if it comes to fighting our way out of the airport, they aren't getting out alive, if I even do.
"Alright."
"Good. Now I just have to suffer through a few more hours of dehydration…"
x
The rest of the hump was uneventful. We had to deal with a few giant scorpions when we rejoined I-95, but it was still mostly clear from the day before. By the time the sun had begun its descent toward the western horizon, a large group of hazy, green storm clouds gathered to the south and began spearing the scarred landscape with bolts of lightning. That must be one of the radiation storms Valentine mentioned.
We had to stop a dozen times, Nate cramping more and more frequently. He was hobbling by the time we were in sight of the edge of the no fly zone. Even though I tried to hide it, I could feel the muscles in my legs beginning to tighten and ache from my own dehydration. It would have been a problem if we'd taken more than a few hours longer to find Virgil.
As soon as we reached the parking lot that marked our extraction, the ex-soldier found something to lean against and dropped, roughly, into a sitting position. I retrieved the stashed radio and called for pickup, a combination of excitement and tension started swirling. This is when things start getting hard.
The pounding rotors of a Vertibird split the silence that had blanketed our little part of the city, and a few minutes later the VTOL settled in the parking lot. The instant we were on board, Nate had his helmet off and the co-pilot handed him a canteen. He took slow, long pulls, and a sigh of relief exploded as the props began spinning up and the landing gear lifted from the broken concrete.
It was… tempting.
He offered the water to me, but I shook my head. As much as I wanted to relieve the excruciating dryness in my throat, we weren't out of danger.
"Are you ever going to take your helmet off in front of someone else", the ex-soldier shouted over the buffeting air.
Do I plan on taking it off in front of other people? Well I did, all the time, especially once I was assigned to Fourier's squad. Here? I haven't felt the need to, and the less time I spend around people here with my helmet off, especially the Brotherhood, the safer.
And the fewer questions I'll have to answer about my age.
"Maybe."
"Suit yourself." Nate took another long drink from the canteen.
The flight back to the Prydwen seemed to drag by. I know there's nothing they would have done to the three kids while we'd been gone, but I couldn't help the mounting concern.
It wasn't unfounded; the Brotherhood didn't need to spirit them away for this to go wrong. All they had to do was begin indoctrinating them while we were gone. Brainwashing isn't always overt at first. Plant the idea they're the only ones these kids can trust after having their world ripped to shreds, everything else follows. Cassandra is bright, and incredibly protective, but no one is immune.
We disembarked from the Vertibird to be greeted by a security detail of four armored Brotherhood soldiers.
"Paladins Marsaul and Danse are waiting to debrief you", one, Carter, said as we stopped in front of them.
And now it was time for the lying. I hope Nate had something convincing thought up. The story about the Relay might be enough to satisfy them, but if it wasn't, this could get interesting.
"Do you mind if we eat first", Nate asked, "it's been two days."
"They have food in the prep room."
The ex-soldier glanced at me. A sharp pain building in my right calf with the accompanying full body ache reminded me dehydration would only be held off so long, but I could make it another half hour.
I nodded and Nate turned back to the armored soldiers. "Okay."
They led us back through the still bustling hangar to the room at the bow of the airship where the two Paladin were waiting, Marsaul still not wearing a helmet. With the two of them, the rest of Danse's squad, Nate, and I, the relatively large space felt incredibly cramped. I hated it. I was going on 40 hours without sleep, all of it spent fighting my way through hostile territory, now suffering from dehydration. There was no reason to believe the Brotherhood would turn on us, unless Cassandra said something she shouldn't have, but my body didn't know that, it just knew it was in rough shape surrounded by potential threats.
Several tins of food and two large canteens sat on the table in the center of the room. It was tempting. I could imagine feeling cool, refreshing water sliding down my dry, aching throat. The thought of removing my helmet, compromising myself even further in the cramped quarters with these people overrode my sudden urge to follow Nate's example as he set his helmet on the table and grabbed one of the bottles.
"You don't want anything", Danse asked. As usual, the helmet made it impossible to know for sure, but I could feel his eyes drilling into me behind the narrow slits I almost shot him through when we first met.
"I'll wait until after the debrief."
"Speaking of", Nate cut in as he set the canteen back down, "let's get this over with; I need to get out of this tin can and sleep." He looked at the Paladin smart enough to keep his helmet on. "What do you want to know first?"
Danse, still glaring at me, huffed. "Where did you find this scientist?"
"Some hills northeast of Attleboro. He was in a cave with some pretty serious fortifications. Name was Virgil, he said Kellogg was coming after him." The ex-soldier squinted for a moment, thinking. "Kellogg is a-"
"We know who Kellogg was", Danse's eyes lingered on me an instant longer before moving to my companion. "It sounds like you dealt with him shortly before we arrived."
"Yeah, we did. Well he did at least, I was helping out a friend in Diamond city."
"The Synth's assistant, both of whom just happened to leave the city after you came to the Prydwen the first time."
If they knew we were lying to them, why would they continue helping? I could at least answer that question: they were using us the same way we were them.
"I don't think we need to worry about him infiltrating anything. He stands out in a crowd." Nate glanced down at the canteen, but didn't reach for it. "As far as Virgil goes, he said he escaped using something called a Molecular Relay. Apparently it's how The Institute sends people from their facility to the surface. There's no physical entrance."
"No physical entrance", Marsaul asked, "how does this thing work then, they, what, appear outside?"
The ex-soldier nodded. "Pretty much."
My mouth twisted into a razor thin smile as the Paladin's face grew incredulous. He was clearly looking for a different answer.
"How does it work", Danse said before the silence could extend any further.
"He didn't know, but he knows how to use it." Nate frowned. "Sort of. He escaped by uploading a signal directly to the system's servers and teleporting into the Glowing Sea."
Damn… that was a pretty good lie. I'll have to remember that.
"That isn't useful if we can't get into the Institute to upload a signal we don't have to a server we can't access."
My companion nodded. "We had another idea on the way back: Virgil said the Institute will send people up every once in a while, mostly Coursers. If they can get back to the Institute afterwards, they have to access the Relay somehow. I doubt we'll get an answer immediately, but we may be able to figure something out if we capture one."
The two Paladins glanced at each other and something passed between them in the quiet. I couldn't read either soldier, and as the silence extended on, I felt each armored Brotherhood around us, watching me.
"How do you propose we find one", Danse asked eventually.
"We go to CIT. Their base is under the campus. From what Virgil told us, the further they have to send someone, the more energy it takes. That means we'll be more likely to find a Courser or whoever else they send up there."
Wow. Nate had either put a lot of thought into how this would go on the walk back, or he was really good at coming up with bullshit on the spot. None of what he said was technically a lie, except for that last part, but he managed to breeze over gaping holes of information by offering solutions (sort of) before the questions could be asked.
"We'll put together a task force to accompany you."
I shook my head. "A large force is easier to spot. We'll handle this."
"None of us know exactly what Coursers are capable of. This is the best lead we've had on the Institute, I'm not leaving it up to you."
"We were your best lead when we went to find Virgil, and that was much more dangerous", Nate replied, "what makes this any different? I know you don't trust us, but we can take care of this. I'm sure you know having a smaller group that is familiar with each other is better than a large one who aren't. The last thing we need is to make mistakes and get in each other's way when we're up against the best the Institute has to offer."
"Then it may be safer to send my squad in."
Nate nodded. "Maybe, but you know how good he is." The ex-soldier motioned to me. "Don't risk your people if we can get what you need."
Danse looked between Nate and I, no doubt thinking about when I almost killed him and Haylen. "Like you said: I don't trust you."
"I hate to say it, but the feeling's mutual."
"Fortunately, I outrank you."
Nate frowned. "And if you're a good leader, you know if you have to pull rank to make your point, you aren't making a good one."
Now that's something I can relate to.
"No, but I can decide whether or not you pose a bigger risk than acceptable."
The ex-soldier shrugged, but his eyes never left Danse's. "That's your call to make, but you know what the safer option is."
The two men stared each other down. I was going to figure out a way to do this, regardless of the Paladin's 'orders', but Nate made a damn good argument. Was Danse smart (or stupid) enough to accept it?
"Fine", Danse said grudgingly, "but you're moving out in two hours, and we're attaching a scout detail to your Vertibird. They're going to report anything they find back to me, understood?"
"What? We just got back from a two day hike through the Glowing sea with no food or water."
"We need to act on this information as quickly as possible; if the Institute finds out you contacted Virgil, conditions will change if we wait. I can't take that risk, so either you do it, or my squad does."
I wasn't a fan of moving straight into the next operation, but competing with Danse and his squad wasn't an option here.
"That's no problem."
Nate's head twisted so quickly, I thought his neck might snap. "What?"
"Two hours will be enough time."
He groaned, but nodded. "Two hours."
"Good."
With that, we left the prep room. Cassandra, Thomas, and Julian were waiting in our temporary quarters. The three of them wanted to hear all about the 'adventure' (I could only imagine what they would think about my fight with the deathclaws), but I didn't have time. I needed to eat, drink and sleep.
Nate excused himself to get out of his armor while the kids pestered me with questions.
"What was it like", Julian asked, almost bouncing. "Was it full of monsters?"
Thomas looked more excited than any person I'd seen in a decade. "Did you fight anything big there?"
I glanced at Cassandra who managed a small smile. When she noticed my gaze she shook her head. "We've all heard stories about the Glowing Sea. Giant insects that can eat you. Yao Gui, Deathclaws, Su-" The young girl faltered. "You know."
"There were some of those, none of them though." Except Virgil.
"So did you fight any of them?" Julian was standing directly in front of me at this point, staring straight up into my visor.
"Yes."
"You have to tell us!"
Oh boy…
Five minutes of dodging questions, mostly by not answering them, later, Nate came and took the kids to the galley, which gave me the opportunity to finally drink something.
I grabbed a few MRE's I'd stashed and the second canteen from the prep-room before sitting against the wall. Pulling my helmet off, I took a long, deep pull from the too small mouth of the bottle. Drinking too much too quickly while dehydrated was a great way to get cramps, but I didn't care. The cool water rushing over my dry, aching throat was too soothing.
After satisfying my parched throat and empty stomach, I left to find the others. I didn't want to leave them again this soon. The more time we spent away, the more the Brotherhood would be able to sink their talons into them. What could I do though?
Nate was with the kids, eating in the galley. As I entered, he stood from their table and nodded toward the door, something strange on his tired face.
"I'll be right back", I heard the smaller man whisper to Cassandra.
She nodded and he started toward me. He wanted to talk in private?
We walked back out into the hangar and he stopped just outside of a technician working on a set of T-60 armor's earshot.
"Do you think you'll need help on this?"
I squinted. "Can't know for sure. Why?"
Nate looked back toward the galley, and I didn't need the answer. "I can't leave them here alone again."
So he was thinking the same thing. It was heartening to know he was just as worried about them, but what happens if the Brotherhood decide to end this strange partnership while I'm gone?
The same thing that would happen if Nate was with me. The difference is, he might be able to do something about it.
It wasn't the worst idea. If all went well I'd be back in a few hours anyway.
And I don't have to do everything myself.
I smiled. Fourier would be proud. The thought of him beaming at my 'progress' made me want to puke.
As I studied the smaller man it made sense to leave him here anyways. His slumped shoulders, shaking hands, and blank face said he was exhausted. Bringing him along would only be a liability, and with the shape I'm in, I can't risk making a mistake that costs him. He might not be able to fight his way out of the Prydwen if shit hit the fan, but he was a damn sight better than leaving them alone.
"I'll deal with this."
The smaller man looked relieved. "Thanks."
I nodded. "I shouldn't take too long."
He smirked. "Right, of course. Go get some sleep then, you probably need it more than I do, especially if you have to fight a Courser."
If Virgil didn't over sell them.
x
CIT's campus was large and relatively unscathed. It may be from its location in the center of Boston with, what were at one point, massive buildings surrounding it on all sides. Most had collapsed, forming massive piles of rubble all around, making egress… difficult. It took me long enough to find a break in the mounds of steel and concrete debris ringing the college, I was tempted to risk climbing over what would most likely be dangerously unstable heaps. If the Courser showed up before I got inside, my chances of tracking it down dropped dramatically.
Algolis.
This looked a helluva lot like the ONI base on Algolis, a classified facility where Project CHRYSANTHEMUM got its start. They wanted me to secure any remaining intel and liquidate all other assets in the small, low lying base. That was one of the few ops I ran ONI's intelligence turned out to be bogus. A remnant of the Freedom and Liberation Party were there, searching the ruins of the base for information on the SPARTAN III program.
That made it personal.
The UNSC's policy for dealing with the FLP was zero tolerance. I obliged. It wasn't until I returned to the ONI prowler I learned it was because 45 years earlier, they detonated a HAVOK on Mamore. It killed over two million people.
That made me happy I'd turned their base into a bullet riddled mass grave. Then a smoking crater. I left it up to the eggheads to figure out what the FLP had found.
Eventually, I found a pathway that looked like it was made by a small explosion. Smaller pieces of rubble were covering the ground with gradually sloping sides that came together in a narrow V shape, like the debris wanted to keep whoever had done it out, but didn't have enough concrete to refill the hole.
The campus itself was a collection of smaller structures surrounding a large, central building that looked like it was built long before the bombs fell. White had faded into dull grey with strange arches and pillars in front of most entrances. I think the style is called Art Deco, but I never paid much attention to that.
I spent the first thirty minutes of the search making my way around the campus, radio I'd gotten from Danse searching for any low band interference. Problem was, I had no clue how long it would take for one of these things to come out. Operating on less than two hours of sleep, I needed to conserve as much energy as possible.
So despite my own internal protests, I found a spot with decent visual cover, and settled down to wait.
And wait.
And wait.
And I hated every second of it.
Sometimes I wish I could make things happen through sheer force of will. Unfortunately that isn't how the world works.
The sun had set behind the city's broken skyline, darkness swallowing the wasteland when, finally, a consistent low whine of static began drifting through my radio's small speaker.
Time to move.
It took another ten minutes of skirting through the crumbling buildings until I eventually tracked the source of the signal.
The interference was slowly growing weaker, but the gunfire coming from the tower was a pretty good clue. It was taller than any other building in the area, but lacked the ornate styling of the surrounding structures.
I wasn't here to admire the architecture though. Its perimeter was clear, but with only one obvious entrance and whatever festivities happening inside already kicked off, I didn't have time to find another. With the volume of reports, whoever was inside would be preoccupied with their current fight.
I moved to the front entrance, and the doors, sensing my presence slid open. That was impressive; after 200 years of disrepair, the motion sensor and motors were still working.
As I slipped inside, I found myself in a large, multistory lobby. A wide balcony was suspended above me and the room's staircase set in the opposite wall. Dead plants occupied long ignored planters scattered around the massive room, piles of broken tiles, rubble, and trash littering the floor. The second floor had several doorways to halls further into the building. The gunfire sounded like it was coming from somewhere above.
Then there were the bodies. Between the ones on the ground floor, those hanging over the banister, and laying on the balcony and walkway at least a half dozen dead Gunners littered the lobby. A quick check of a body splayed over the receptionist desk revealed scorched holes burned through the dead man's head. Yeah, unless the Brotherhood was here, that would be the Institute.
"The Courser's heading up to the control room" a voice exploded from a hidden overhead speaker, "kill on sight. Send reinforcements to the lobby in case there are more."
That answered that. These guys don't have comms? I began forward into the lobby, moving toward the walkway spanning the center of the massive room. Announcing their movements on a building wide intercom was… stupid.
Boots clanged on metal above me as a group of the mercenaries pounded down one of the adjoining halls. While we may have been trying to maintain a… non-violent relationship with the Gunners, I wasn't going to risk the Courser getting away, and I doubt they'd be in any mood to talk. If I was going to catch up I'd have to employ the old go to: move fast, hit hard.
As the running reached the doorway, my legs coiled I leapt up to the walkway above. I grabbed the railing with my left hand to swing myself over and caught sight of three Gunners sprinting into the lobby. Bringing my rifle around as I vaulted the banister, I squeezed off a round one-handed that slammed into the lead mercenary's neck and he tumbled to the ground.
The others began scrambling for cover as my armored boots thudded to the thick steel floor and I shot the one on the right in the temple just before he made it behind the wall.
"Son of a- who the hell are you", the last man shouted. "You with that Courser bastard?"
The gunfire was getting further away, I didn't have time to wait.
I sprung forward, the gunner leaned out just in time to receive a swinging armored elbow to the face. The force of the blow crushed his head against the door jam and turned into a splatter across the wall.
Before the body slumped to the ground, more footsteps thundered down a set of stairs somewhere down the hall to my right. I sprinted through the corridor, rifle up and the instant the first mercenary, a dark skinned woman with even darker hair tied back in a bun, rounded the corner, I put a round through her head and turned the bottom of the staircase into a collage of brain and bone. The next man tried to stop himself from entering my line of fire, but his head just edged into the passage before he could and its contents joined the macabre art on the opposite wall. They were panicked, in a hurry. That Courser had them scrambling.
Still sprinting full speed, I dropped to my knees, sliding around the corner, my armor making a shrill screech on the steel tile floor. A third and fourth Gunner were pulling their weapons up, as I shot the closer one twice in the neck. The second managed to get a round off, but it was hurried and went wide, hitting the wall behind me before I dropped him with another headshot.
I got my feet back under me as my momentum carried me into the wall and I lunged up the stairs, taking them four at a time. The blue lit hall on the floor above was empty save a pile of furniture about half way down, blocking it, but the staircase to the next level was completely obstructed by rubble. I sprinted down the hall and ducked into the first doorway on the right. It looked like an office space, with orange painted walls separating several desk spaces and a large enclosure full of filing cabinets at the end. No more Gunners though.
The gunfire above me was still going strong, but I couldn't tell if it was moving further away. I burst back out into the hall-
And into a group of mercenaries who had been sitting in wait at the bottom of a ramp made by the collapsed floor above.
They clearly weren't prepared for someone to jump straight into their midst. The one closest to the door I'd exited was just beginning to turn when I launched a snap kick into his chest and the green combat armor over his torso shattered like glass. As he careened back and slammed into the makeshift ramp, I brought my rifle around and fired off two more rounds that blew the next Gunner's brains over the first man's destroyed chest.
The third was just bringing his weapon up as I pivoted to him. His eyes were as wide as dinner plates, full of abject terror. I swatted the sidearm away as he squeezed the trigger and the projectile crashed into the ceiling. He doubled over, dropping the handgun and grabbing for his left wrist as I followed the strike up by caving his head in with the stock of my rifle.
Up the ramp, I crossed another walkway, dispatching the solitary Gunner on the opposite end with a shot through his left eye before swapping for a fresh magazine. The opposite end was a small kitchen or break area, but other than my victim and a trio of other dead bodies, killed by laser fire, the room was empty. The hall outside told a similar story, bullet holes riddling the wall to my left, while down the passage to my right was a half dozen bodies splayed across the floor.
As I fought my way through a server room full of extremely old looking computers with another squad of Gunners, the voice came back over the intercom. "I need a report sector two. What's your status?" Whoever it was sounded much more rattled.
I could hear another half dozen mercenaries sprinting down the hall outside. Leaning through the door, I sighted on the first and put a round through his head and one other before the others scattered, most turning out onto another walkway overlooking the lobby.
Dispatching the one man who remained in the corridor, I slipped out to the opening-
Shit.
And ducked back as one of the men on the walkway let off a rocket. It streaked from the opposite side of the room, past the other Gunners, who were laying flat on the walkway, and through the door. I dove away as it impacted the opposite wall, the explosion sending shrapnel along with the blast of overpressure chasing me down the hall. Whatever that RPG was packing, the shockwave hit hard enough to flare my shields and send me tumbling down the passage, metal shards careening off of my depleting energy barrier. My head was spinning from the explosion.
I couldn't hear the approaching footsteps, but if the Gunners had avoided the overpressure, they would be pushing into the hall. Still laying on the ground, I twisted and brought my rifle around just in time to see the first one enter my line of sight and dropped her with a headshot. The next one was just as anxious, practically jumping over his dead comrade's body to take his own round in the left eye.
The third didn't follow in his friends' footsteps, so I scrambled to my feet and slipped back down the hall until I was just about to cross back into the opening.
Deep breath.
Dropping into a low crouch, I leaned back out, just far enough to get my rifle around the door jam, and put a round into the terrified looking mercenary backpedalling down the walkway. The last one, carrying the rocket launcher, was just shouldering it again as I put him down too. His finger squeezed the trigger, sending the explosive warhead into the walkway at his feet. It blew a meter wide section out of the bridge and sent his smoking body parts scattering across the wall behind the spot he'd been kneeling.
With a new magazine in my rifle, I pushed down the walkway and over the new, still smoking hole. The next minute was spent fighting through the adjoining hall and office space before reaching another staircase. This one was littered with more dead Gunners and the telltale warped and scorched metal of several explosions.
"The Courser's after the girl. Anyone alive needs to get to the top floor immediately, that's an order!" The mercenary commander was in full blown panic by this point. I couldn't blame him; his forces were being massacred by at least two unknown parties. If I'd caught the Courser earlier, I might have been able to save him the trouble, but I wasn't going to waste my time worrying about guns for hire.
That unease was clearly carrying over to his people; while the squad Kleo hired to ambush us was well organized with fairly sound, if unrefined tactics, these ones were practically throwing themselves into gunfire. Bad leaders get people killed in more ways than one.
At the top of the stairs was a much larger room, maybe an office or another lobby. Only one Gunner was still alive, surrounded by his dead comrades. The man was older, maybe mid-30's, his armor had seen better days with multiple laser strikes over his chest, cradling an HK-33. He had the horrified thousand yard stare I'd seen, and put on, plenty of enemies, but as soon as I crested the staircase, his attention snapped to me.
I wasn't taking any chances. The moment I saw him register me, I put a round through the bridge of his nose, and the last survivor of whatever fight happened here crumpled to the ground.
There was a door behind him leading into another large area with a staircase that split in the center of the room, leading up to balconies on either side. Furniture, filing cabinets and more ancient computers were scattered around both levels. Most of it looked like hastily made cover. The mercenaries lying dead on my floor and the walkways above attested to its effectiveness. Had the Gunner in the last room been left alive on purpose? Probably not, more than likely, with those near-penetrations on his chest plate, he'd been lucky.
After a quick search, the only way further up was the elevator on the staircase's landing. The Gunner commander had said the Courser was heading for the elevator, and whoever was left alive would be on the top floor. The lift was the only obvious way of reaching it, and I couldn't risk backtracking to find another way up. If I lost this target, I had no way of knowing when I'd get another chance, if I ever would. If these things were as good as everyone keeps telling me, it would know I'm hunting it.
Dammit… This is a great way to get ambushed.
Again.
I crammed myself into the elevator and the cables groaned as it lifted me toward whatever lay above.
The room I exited into was… very different from the rest of the tower. The center had a fence surrounding large conduits running vertically from the floor, up through the ceiling of the massive space four meters above. On either side were large server banks likewise protected by thick steel cages. The levels below had looked distinctly like civilian office space, this felt military. Whatever had been happening here prior to the war, the people in charge wanted to keep it secret. Maybe it was natural curiosity, or maybe it was the intel gather side of my training, but discoveries like this always piqued my interest
Unfortunately, whatever this facility had been used for, it was used for that over two centuries ago and had no consequences on my current objective.
As I made my way through a door on the far side of the room, checking the numerous corners for stragglers as I went, the sounds of an interrogation reached me from somewhere above.
"I- I don't know the password", the terrified voice stammered, pleading. "I'm telling the truth."
"I don't believe you are", came a robotic response. That's probably my target.
The next room had a staircase leading up through a large open space connecting to two floors above me.
"Oh god… please, no." Whoever it was sounded young. "No, please, you do have to-"
The begging was cut short by a laser weapon report as I slipped up the metal stairs, setting my titanium armored boots on each step as gently as possible. MJOLNIR is an outstanding piece of kit, but it does have its drawbacks.
The second floor empty and talking still coming from above, I began the climb to the next level.
"All he had to do was tell me the password", the Courser's slow, deliberate voice continued. "Now, are you going to cooperate?"
So it had multiple prisoners. Killing the first one quickly wasn't a very effective interrogation technique, but I doubt these people needed much, mine didn't. It was, at least, better than most novice tactics
As I crested the staircase, a blue spear flashed over my left shoulder and seared into the wall behind me. Most of the time, you don't do this unless you're trying to scare the person you're shooting at. If the Courser had been trying to kill me with that shot, it would have waited until I was in clear view.
Doing what the other guy wants is almost never a good idea.
I leapt up the remaining stairs, rifle leveled at the wide doorway to their right and caught a glimpse of a long black jacket as the Courser took cover inside the next room. There were several doors along the back wall with a railing separating another caged block of vertical pipes and cables from the surrounding walkway.
"You've been following me." The statement was eerily robotic. I can't say I'm the most emotionally active person, but this thing took that to a new level.
At least it's smart enough to figure that out.
"What do you want?"
Skirting the wall, I crept toward the wide door, trying to get a better look inside. There were four Gunners on the right side of the room, two dead, and two on their knees. Unless there was an alcove I couldn't see, the Courser was tucked in the near right corner-
A slight distortion in the air caught my attention at the edge of the doorway. It could have passed for heat shimmer, but I'd seen too many Covenant and Insurrectionists using active camo to believe that.
I dove through the door as the first arc of blue light speared from the Courser's rifle and flashed through the space I'd just vacated.
This bastard has active camo. That's interesting.
Another laser burned into my shields before I had a chance to find my feet again, and a third just missed as I ducked to the side and returned fire.
My first shot connected with the center of the wavering image, but the second went wide and hit the wall just over one of the dead mercenaries. The others yelped and curled into the fetal position.
Even if I knew the Courser was there, the active camouflage made tracking it difficult, especially in the poor illumination provided by the hundreds years old lights above.
At this point, I had two choices: keep my distance, and hope I could get enough hits on the target to disrupt its camo or kill it before it could kill me, or close on the synth and limit its movements and options. That provided its own challenges, but I've never been a fan of the passive approach.
I squeezed off two more rounds and the shimmering silhouette shifted to the right. As soon as the second projectile left my rifle, my tensed legs drove into the metal floor and propelled me toward the Courser. The thing's shimmering kept sliding to the right, so as I soared across the intervening dozen meters, I jerked my right leg to my chest and stuck the same arm out. My body rotated and as I passed by the camouflaged target, my forearm slammed into it.
Grasping for anything I could get a hold of, my fist filled with cloth, maybe its jacket, and I pulled it to the ground with me. Another laser speared out from the Courser's rifle and splashed against my weakening shields.
As we crashed to the floor, something slammed into the soft armor over my neck and my grip loosened just enough that my momentum ripped the Courser from my hand. I twisted, skidding across the floor, armor screeching along the steel panels, and rolled backward onto my feet.
Another blue laser flashed toward my head. I ducked and put another half dozen rounds into the center of the humanoid shimmer.
The shimmer flickered black, and a split second later, the Courser's scrambling form resolved from its semi-transparent camouflage. Whatever that tech was, it's resilience was incredible. But now, the bastard's primary defense was gone.
The Synth fired at me as it tried to put space between us. I could have chased it around the railing, but if the number of dead Gunners was anything to judge by, this thing knew what it was doing. Maybe I get to the Courser before it can retaliate, but now I had a clear visual, it wouldn't be getting away. This was the right time to play it safe, especially with a capable opponent.
So I paused as it careened around the opposite side of the cage. I just needed to wait…
I put a round through a gap between two of the pipes in the center of the fenced area, punching through the thin steel mesh, and it crashed into my prey's left knee.
It stumbled, but didn't drop.
What the hell?
The Synth returned fire through the cage and a handful of blue lances found their way past the cluster of pipes and burned through my side of the fencing before slamming into me and the wall behind. My shields' low energy alarm started chirping in my helmet.
I squeezed off two more rounds, both aimed at the Synth's left knee. After the second one, the limb buckled and my target dropped to the ground.
The thing wasn't done though.
It pitched sideways so its head and shoulders emerged from around the cage and it emptied the rest of its Fusion Cell at me. I dove away as several more lances crashed into my shields, depleting them, and past the two remaining Gunner prisoners. Several of the bursts careened past me, hitting one of the mercenaries and he dropped to the steel floor, chest and head smoking.
With the Courser crippled, I circled around the cage as it discarded the laser rifle, and pulled a smaller version, must have been a handgun, from beneath its jacket. I shot it twice through the right shoulder and it fumbled the weapon, its arm falling uselessly to its side.
"Who are you", the Synth deadpanned. The lack of emotion was almost disconcerting at this point. I'd never seen anything, human or Covie, greet what was undoubtedly going to be its death with such apathy. Humans, it was usually fear, covenant would range anywhere from pure rage to screaming terror. My thoughts cast back to Kellogg… some were relieved. "You aren't from the Brotherhood, so what do you want?"
It was still asking questions? Now? That wasn't my concern at this point. The question now is where is that chip? Virgil had said it was in the thing's head, but not where.
I put a round through its neck, careful to miss its spine and the base of its skull. The medium sized projectile punched through the Courser's traquea and air whistled out of the new, structurally superfluous hole as the Synth struggled for breath.
Then its skin began writhing, tissue around the wound trying to knit itself back together like it had been injected with a Stimpak.
Oh shit, that meant-
Rushing forward, I planted my right foot on the thing's chest hard enough I felt a crack beneath my armored boot. My target glared at me as its now healed right arm scrambled for the discarded sidearm. I emptied the rest of my magazine into the thing's chest, just over my foot, but it didn't stop reaching for its weapon.
This thing is annoyingly persistent.
I leaned onto the Courser's chest until I felt another snap and it's sternum collapsed under the better part of half a ton. It finally showed some sign it was in trouble when its other hand reached for something beneath its jacket. I loaded a new magazine and put another trio of projectiles through the Synth's neck.
Crimson began gurgling up through my target's destroyed windpipe, and its struggling began to slow. The skin and muscle was still trying to repair itself, but the Courser fell unconscious a few moments later, drowning in its own blood.
After a minute or so, the resilient bastard finally died.
"Holy shit." My eyes snapped to the one remaining Gunner. "What are you?"
He was the oldest I'd seen so far, bald, wearing only a chest plate with no additional protection, unlike the others. Was he their leader? Why would the Synth leave him alive? The first person you kill in these circumstances is the commander. Unless... "What did he want from you?"
The shock on his face quickly turned to anger. "Why would I tell you?"
"Because I asked."
"Fu-"
"He wanted me", another, female voice called from behind a door to the mercenary's right.
So the Gunners have a prisoner. Right, the commander had announced the Synth was after 'the girl'.
I grabbed the dead Courser and carried it over to the collection of mercenary corpses. Valentine told me Coursers track escaped Synths. If this guy killed his way through the Gunners here to get her, that's the only reasonable explanation.
Setting the body down, I walked over to look through the slotted window beside the steel door. Inside was a short woman, maybe mid-20's, dressed in a tattered brown shirt and pants.
"They locked me in here when the Courser came knocking." She looked terrified. "That bastard deserved to die. I don't know if it's why you came, but could you get me out of here? They put the passcode for the door's terminal in that toolbox over there." The Synth pointed to a small red box sitting beside one of the many piles of rubble around the room.
I glanced at the Gunner behind me, still cowering by the wall. Locking her in there doesn't make sense for her protection. The only reason they would have done it is to keep her from slipping away during the chaos of a battle.
"You're a Synth?"
She nodded.
I looked at the mercenary. "Did you know?"
"... Yeah."
It didn't take a genius to figure out what was going on then: if they were going to kill her, they would have put a bullet in the Synth's head and saved themselves the trouble. I didn't know what their aptitude for advanced tech is, but it didn't matter much, they were either going to enslave, study, or sell her. More than a few of the other SPARTAN-III recruits had been cycling through traders' hands before ONI picked them up; I'd heard most of their stories before I was split off. A twinge of the same fury that I'd felt when I was at West Everett Estates flared at the back of my mind. It isn't eating people, but it isn't much better.
Saving the Synth wasn't a mission objective, but if I didn't let her go and I left the mercenary alive, she'd still be taken by the Gunners and sold, put to work, or turned into a lab experiment. If I killed the mercenary, she'd be trapped and I might as well put a bullet in her myself.
"Open the door."
His expression shifted from angry and scared to confused. "What?"
"Open the door."
"Why?"
I squared my shoulders to the Gunner, looming over him. "I'm not playing this game."
The Gunner stared up at me. He had to know I fought my way through the men this Courser hadn't killed. He'd seen me kill the Courser too, there was no way he was under the delusion he could beat me in a fight, so what was he trying to accomplish?
Why didn't I just shoot him? I don't need his cooperation if the passcode is written on something.
The Gunner hesitated a moment longer before standing and stalked to a computer set in the wall next to the door. After a few seconds of typing, the rusty steel screeched open and the Synth hurried out.
The look of relief on the woman's face was so intense, I could almost feel it. "Thank you. Thank you so much."
If I brought her back with me, the Brotherhood would either shoot her on sight, or do the same thing the Gunners probably would have. And I don't need someone else to babysit. But letting her go had its own… drawbacks. Nate and I already had an extremely tentative ceasefire with the Gunners, the last thing I needed was her spouting off to someone about how I rescued her from the Institute and band of mercenaries. "I can't bring you with me. Do you know where you're going?"
"Goodneighbor."
Huh. That's a convenient excuse. "The people there don't like me much. I'd recommend not mentioning me to anyone."
She squinted at me for a few seconds. "Okay… you don't want people to know you were here?"
"Correct."
The Synth shrugged. "We all have our secrets. I won't talk to anyone about you if that's what you want. It's the least I can do. The name's Jenny by the way."
I nodded. "The way out is clear."
Jenny hesitated. "Again I-" she paused and offered me a bright, mile wide smile. "Thank you so much."
I nodded again and the fugitive left, but not before casting an angry glance at the mercenary commander.
What to do with him? My gaze shifted from the now empty doorway to the man who seemed like he was trying to melt into the steel plated wall. As far as I know, the commander is the last living mercenary. Rule number one for keeping a low profile: no witnesses. More than that, there aren't many things I find reprehensible (outside of cannibalism that is), it would be hard for me to do my job if I did, but whatever the Gunners had planned for the escaped Synth would probably have been… unpalatable. The image these people are painting for me isn't a great one.
I say that after killing a few dozen of them.
I'm not the one dealing in slave trade.
Did I know that at the time?
No, but I do know about what happened in Quincy.
And they're mercenaries.
"So, what, you want me to keep my mouth shut about seeing you too", the commander asked. He must have taken my silent stare as a cue for him to say something. "You got it. Whatever you want, I just want to get out of here in one piece."
Keep your mouth shut? I was under no delusions; he would talk as soon as there was no risk of retaliation. People will say anything to stay alive. I didn't have much reason to keep the Gunner alive. Not only was he a security risk, but the Gunners themselves were climbing up my 'to do' list. They weren't at Kleo's level, that one is a bit more personal, but they weren't far off.
I could imagine Nate standing behind me, his anger and frustration drilling into my back, but this is my op. Like I said, I've already killed a few dozen, what's one more?
One more.
This isn't just about me and my kill count; the more I expose myself, the more danger I put Nate and to an extent, Sanctuary in. If the Gunners get wind I wiped out a platoon (alongside a Courser), after our… ceasefire, they'd come after me full bore. If they somehow discover I'm associated with Preston's group, which they probably would with me going back and forth to the settlement, it would put them in the crosshairs.
Unfortunately for him, this isn't the same as that young guard in Goodneighbor.
My sights snapped to the mercenary's head and before he had a chance to register shock, the high velocity, full metal jacket round punched through his forehead. Its ballooning effect shattered the back of his skull and scattered his brain across the floor of the makeshift cell.
Taking a deep breath, I turned to the dead Courser's body. How the hell am I supposed to find that chip?
x
The hump back to my exfil was uncomfortably quiet and uneventful. The sun was setting on the dead city, and besides the odd, distant gunshot, there was nothing. No animals, no Raiders, no Gunners, no Supermutants. It was almost like the city had seen enough killing for the day. I couldn't complain about that last part, at least it gave me time to come up with something to tell the Brotherhood. The trek through the Glowing Sea and now this fight- a hot shower hadn't sounded so good in a long time.
Too bad I had no idea when I'd get one of those next.
The next best thing would be a hot meal and at least a few hours of sleep.
I radioed for pickup and reached the large, empty dirt square that had probably once been a park a few minutes after the sun had disappeared behind Boston's crumbling skyline. As I listened to the approaching Vertibird, my mind wandered to the Courser's chip sitting in my satchel. It had been at the base of the Synth's skull, near where a standard UNSC neural interface connected, and about the same size as a playing card. The small circuit board looked like any other, but this one somehow connected to a science fiction writer's wet dream, even for me. It meant I was now a significant step closer to reaching the Institute, which brought up the same question I've been asking myself for weeks: what if they can't send me back?
The idea I might be stuck in this place, some bastardized version of Earth… the more I thought about it, the more uncomfortable it was. My armor was incredibly resilient, but eventually it would fail, especially if I have to fight like this constantly. I could stay in good enough shape, but would I ever be comfortable enough in a place like this to settle into any sort of routine?
What was possibly the most disconcerting part was how limited this life would be. I've been to dozens of planets, each with its own unique environment and landscape, from the cold, rocky canyons of Algolis, to the hot, glassed surface of Madrigal… to Reach's now destroyed rolling hills and lush forests. I've watched the sun rise over countless different horizons, hell even seen a few binary system dawns and dusks. And the stars… always different, but still comforting.
Sure, I was in most of those places to train or fight, but every once in a while, I can appreciate the experience.
I've seen and done things the people here could never appreciate, and that thought was almost as uneasy. They'd more than likely never leave this destroyed version of Earth. Who knows, if the Covenant are still out there, they may still find this place and finish the job this humanity started a few hundred years ago. Maybe they'd light off the Halo rings and in an instant, the galaxy would be wiped clean, and these people would never know what was coming.
As I heard my ride approach, I shook the thoughts from my head. One problem at a time. The Vertibird set down a dozen meters from me and I jogged over to climb aboard. I still don't have access to whatever is in this chip that connects it to the relay, and I still have to find someone who can build the damn thing.
My ride lifted off the ground as I thought about the next move. Going to Sturges was probably still the best option, but I'd have to lose whoever the Brotherhood would have watching me. The Brotherhood had no way of knowing exactly what happened inside, but they'd know I was in a gunfight. I wouldn't be surprised if they sent the recon squad in after I returned to the Prydwen. They would know I killed a Courser, but with its head turned to pulp after I found the chip, they wouldn't know I'd taken anything off its body. Maxson wasn't stupid, he'd know I at least had some new information. We were operating against the clock, and eventually it would hit zero. The question is would we have everything we needed before that happened?
Fifteen minutes later, I found myself standing in front of Danse on the docking station. This time he hadn't even waited for me to get to the prep room. He, and the rest of his team, were all in full gear. Like Nate said: the distrust was mutual.
"That didn't seem too difficult, Knight, care to explain why you were so insistent on doing this on your own? And without your friend?" The Paladin's voice was controlled, but bordered on furious.
"Nate did."
He gave a curt nod. "I want to hear it from you."
I cocked my head. Danse knew Nate had been lying, at least in part. They were right to be wary, but I'm used to more… binary backstabbing: either more subtle efforts between competing ONI agents, or outright attacks. Those were always interesting. This middle ground of barely restrained hostility only made me want the fight more.
"You want me to repeat what he said?"
"Yes."
"I move faster without you, and the less the Institute knows about our involvement with you, the better. Nate stayed behind because he was in no shape to fight after the Glowing Sea." Neither of those statements were untrue, but the Paladin was smart enough to know that didn't mean it was the entire story. In fact, the candor probably raised alarms for the soldier, I know it would for me.
"You don't think they already know?"
I shrugged. "We won't know until we know." The answer was lazy, but at this point, I didn't need this conversation going on any longer than necessary. Hunger and fatigue were beginning to fray my temper, and I still had to lie about what I'd found.
"I don't-"
"Are you going to interrogate me, or is this the debrief?"
Danse fell silent, glaring at me through my faceplate. At this point I couldn't tell if it was residual anger from almost killing him and Haylen, distrust, or a combination of both.
"What did you find out", the Brotherhood soldier finally asked.
"Courser was hunting an escaped Synth the Gunners had captured. Fought my way to the target before it got away with the fugitive-"
"Is that the woman who was seen leaving shortly before you?"
So they saw her leave too. Not a surprise. "Yes."
"And why didn't you capture it?" Now the Paladin's voice was outright accusatory.
"Capturing a Synth wasn't the mission, and dragging her through the city would have been an unnecessary risk."
"That isn't for you to decide. Getting our hands on any of those abominations is first priority."
Right. He wasn't going to let this go, and it's already getting on my nerves. "Hauling an uncooperative passenger through a hostile environment alone isn't what I signed up for."
"Maybe you shouldn't have gone alone then."
Oh fuck off. Working with these people was already aggravating enough without this, I checked it though; starting something here, while it may be cathartic, wouldn't be helpful.
"I'll take that under advisement. Their teleportation system uses nodes, like a comm network. The Coursers use relays to access it." While, again, it wasn't technically a lie, it was missing a key piece of information currently sitting in my satchel, wrapped in gauze.
"And you learned this how?"
"The Courser."
Danse stared at me for a moment. I could feel his narrowed eyes through the thin lenses in his helmet. "Our reports suggest Coursers wouldn't be susceptible to torture. They don't seem to feel pain, or don't care about it."
That was certainly true, the bastard took a dozen rounds and never flinched. "They heal quickly. The effect looks like a Stimpak." If this went on any longer, I'd run out of lies, and making bullshit up on the spot isn't my strong suit. I'll leave that to Nate.
Besides, Danse was thoroughly on my nerves, and all I wanted was food and some sleep.
"So you managed to get this out of it before turning its head into a smear across the floor?"
He knew I was hiding something important, but I wasn't going to think up any convincing lie on the spot.
"Yes. I'm done with this interrogation."
With that, I sidestepped the Paladin and walked past him and his squad. To my surprise, none of them tried to stop me. Did they buy my story (at least in part), or were they trying to make me believe they're buying it? Or was it they expected to get information elsewhere? I didn't leave anything they would be able to use back at CIT. Besides figuring out I killed my fair share of the mercenaries, released a Synth, and killed the Courser, there was nothing to find. But I always have to entertain the possibility I missed something. If that's the case, and they do figure out I'm lying, or what I'm lying about, our timetable is about to get a lot shorter.
Life is so much simpler when all I have to worry about is shooting things.
After finding a quiet place to eat (not easy to do on the Prydwen), I stalked back to the small quarters the Brotherhood had given us where I found Nate and the three kids waiting. The relief was palpable, seeing nothing had happened to the four of them, yet, but if I was being honest with myself, the exhaustion overrode just about everything. Julian and Thomas were sitting on a cot with Cassandra, the ex-soldier against the opposite wall. Had he been telling more stories? Knowing how much he liked talking, probably.
"You don't look any worse for wear", he quipped as I ducked through the bulkhead door. "Did Virgil oversell Coursers?"
I glared at the smaller man, but I couldn't find the irritation to put behind it.
"No."
The four of them watched me as I removed my satchel, set it next to the sniper rifle, and slid into a sitting position against the wall.
"Hmm." Nate squinted at me. "What happened?"
"Gunners. The Courser was attacking them to recover a Synth they'd captured."
His expression changed from curious to worried. "And?" The ex-soldier cast a glance at the trio.
"You don't need to worry about any info getting back to their leadership."
"That isn't as comforting as you think it is."
Comforting? Comforting doesn't matter if it means you get shot. I shrugged. That problem is handled; we had more immediate ones to worry about. "Maxson?"
"No", Nate said, "We aren't doin-" He looked at the kids again who were watching us. Cassandra looked more interested than anything. "Let's take this outside."
Why does everyone want to bother me now? I'd gotten less than 2 hours of sleep in the last 70, and spent most of that time fighting. Danse had already annoyed me, now this asshole wants to get in on the action?
"Why?"
"Because I'm done leaving things wherever you decide to drop them." He stood and swung the door open with a gentle creek.
"I need to sleep."
He shrugged. "Then talk quickly."
I was more than a little tempted to ignore him and ask about his conversation with the Elder tomorrow. It isn't like anything would change between now and then.
That isn't what I'd call 'cooperative'.
Cooperative?
Didn't I decide I was going to work with him?
I don't need him to like me for it to work.
Uh, yes I do. Or at least I need him to be cooperative too. I don't make it this far on my own, and I don't make it to the Institute without him at this point, let alone getting the kids out of here.
My face twisted in a grimace. I really need sleep.
Climbing to my feet, I stared the ex-soldier down before following him from the cramped room. He swung the door shut behind me. The hall was empty, but that didn't mean no one was listening.
"What", I asked, irritation creeping into my voice.
Nate turned and shot me an angry glare. "Stop doing that. You aren't the only one who has input here. Whatever you do affects me."
You don't think I know that? You think I'd be here if I didn't? "I know."
"Yeah? It doesn't seem like it sometimes." He sighed, exasperated. "You're the most confusing person I've ever met. You make it easy to trust you for the most part, and then you do shit like this."
I cocked my head. Easy to trust me? Curiosity thawed my annoyance. "What do you mean?"
"You're going to make me compliment you aren't you?" Nate frowned "You're reliable, you know what you're doing, and you usually make the right decision. Even if I don't agree with it. And then you cut me out whenever you don't feel like explaining something. If it affects me, I want to know about it. So, what happened with the Gunners?"
That sounds like a massive waste of time.
Probably not everything, but keeping him in the loop might be a good idea. He's obviously better versed in public relations.
"I engaged to keep the Courser from escaping."
"Were they defending it?"
"No, but if I'd tried to talk my way through, it would have been long gone." I wasn't going to feel bad about putting down soldiers for higher that do what they do.
The smaller man grimaced. "So you killed all of them."
"Yes. We don't need the Gunners after us too."
"Well at least we can agree on that." He took a deep breath. "Fine, so what's next?"
… Huh. "That depends on what Maxson said."
"He half agreed. They'll let the kids go to Diamond city tomorrow, but they have to stay with one of the Brotherhood's people until we've gotten them to the Institute."
Clever bastard. There was no doubt the Brotherhood would have other people looking for ways to infiltrate, but like he said, he wasn't letting an opportunity slip past. The Elder wanted to keep his leverage over us. As much as I didn't want to admit it, I should have handled that situation better. He was hedging his bets too by letting them out of the main camp, but keeping the trio under his watch in case we tried something.
"Yeah. Maxson's smart." I looked down to meet the ex-soldier's gaze. The pause must have conveyed my thoughts. "So?"
He was thinking the same thing as me.
"Sturges."
"I'm guessing you want to move quickly?"
I nodded.
"Okay, I'll take care of the kids tomorrow then. You know how long you'll be?"
Getting to Sanctuary and back wouldn't be difficult to do in a day on my own, but I doubt I'll be able to turn around immediately. If he isn't able to help, or if he knows someone who can, that will complicate things.
"A few days. I'll head to Diamond City with you guys before leaving. Stay with them if you can."
"I planned on it", the ex-soldier said through a yawn. MFer had the gall to yawn. "Alright."
Before he could turn back to the door, I clamped a gauntleted hand on his shoulder. "We aren't doing this every time I make a decision."
He cocked an eyebrow. "Ditto."
A/N: So Danse and Damon certainly don't have the friendliest relationship. Then again, our SPARTAN friend isn't the most sociable person. This is one of those relationships I've let develop as I write because, honestly, I had no idea how I wanted it to go, but it's safe to say Danse is suspicious of our MCs' motives (rightfully so). Nate seems to be going through some difficult character growth of his own as we progress through the story which is also something that's developed organically (to an extent), and that's going to continue in the upcoming chapters. I hoped you all enjoyed, and I'll see you again next time!
Next Chapter: September 3rd, Sanctuary