A/N: AAAAAAAAND WE'RE BACK! Welcome! To the latest hairbrained installment of 'why is there a SPARTAN here?' First off, I'd like to say I love seeing other people posting in this fandom. Like I said before it isn't the most well read one out there (not even close) so it's good to see others taking up the mantel (aaah aaaah, get it? No? Okay). We're getting closer and closer to the all important Institute! But it's time we find out a little more about how Damon got dropped into this crazy situation. Anyways, as always, let me know what you think, leave a review, and enjoy!
Chapter 19: Sanctuary
The next morning was… interesting. Between the ten or so hours of sleep over the past three days, the constant aggravation of being at the whims of a cult, and the strange new concern I had for the three kids, you could say I wasn't in the best mood. So as the Vertibird settled down in a clearing about a klick outside Diamond city, that might have been a park at one point (amusing they decide to try subtlety after the theatrics they've pulled so far), thinking about the best way to screw the Brotherhood over was cathartic.
Nate, Cassandra, Julian, Thomas, and I climbed out of the VTOL and began our short journey through the maze of crumbling towers and debris strewn streets. The ex-soldier left his power armor back at the Prydwen, opting for a pair of worn khaki cargo pants, a dark grey light jacket over a black shirt and combat boots. He still had the Pip-boy, and his new combat rifle along with a new satchel, but decided against a plate carrier Teagan had offered. The kids were wearing whatever appropriately sized clothes the Brotherhood could find, I'm sure they can get more in the city.
The kids surprised me; all three were careful and silent, picking their way through the rubble and wreckage almost as quietly as Valentine had. Cassandra caught onto wordless communication even in the short time it took us to reach the relative safety of the city's perimeter.
Once back inside the stadium, we met a younger, stone faced man who introduced himself as knight sergeant Ramirez inside the main entrance.
"I understand one of you will be staying with them for the time being?"
Nate nodded. "For a little while anyways, he", the ex-soldier motioned at me, "has to take care of a few things on his own outside the city. I decided I'd take a break from all this moving around and help get these three settled."
The Brotherhood soldier watched him, then me, eyes narrowed and a firm frown set on his face. To say the knight sergeant looked unconvinced would probably be an understatement. I had no doubt he'd been told to keep any eye on us, that we were a potential flight risk, and to report any oddities back to Maxson. If I knew that, I could count on Nate catching it too. Would the ex-soldier be careful enough to avoid raising any alarm bells for the time being?
After a few moments of relative silence, Ramirez turned toward the stadium's seating area. "This way."
I started after him, followed by the others. It was unlikely there would be any traps, but it's better safe than dead.
The knight sergeant led us through the forest of makeshift housing: ramshackle structures made from wooden beams and corrugated metal sheets. A few were torn and patched tents, and some looked like whoever 'built' them had pulled anything they could from a scrap bin and put it together.
After a minute or so of picking our way through the slum, our escort stopped at one of the structures that roughly resembled a building. It reminded me of Valentine's agency with a small wooden door set in a thin steel frame surrounded by a cube made of corrugated steel.
He knocked two times, paused, then once more.
A moment later, a latch clanked from the opposite side and the door swung open. Inside was a woman with an equally uninviting expression. We're they posing as a couple?
"Come in." Her voice was just as stiff.
Ramirez ducked into the shack. I practically had to wedge myself through the too narrow doorway. Once we were all inside, I couldn't wait to be out. I was wrong about the shack reminding me of Valentine's; the detective's office was a penthouse suite compared to this. There wasn't enough room for me to stand up straight, and with six others in here with me, we were almost on top of one another. There were two beds set against the far wall, a chest between them, and a small table in the center.
"Our orders are to keep these three protected for the time being", Ramirez said. His tone, and cocked eyebrow, made it clear the command was out of the ordinary. "This is knight Gwen. We are to ensure your safety, and compliance."
Compliance.
"It's nice to meet you Ramirez, Gwen." Nate extended a hand.
The Brotherhood soldiers both stared at the ex-soldier.
"You are a newly minted knight, correct", Ramirez asked.
I just stopped myself from scoffing. Rank has never meant much to me, but these cultish parade ranks like knight, paladin, and elder were a joke. On top of that, they're supposed to be operating covertly, which meant standard decorum wasn't only not followed, practicing it was actively frowned upon.
"Yes…"
"I am aware you two have some sort of arrangement with Elder Maxson, but I do not give preferential treatment."
This guy must be new to leadership. What Proctor Teagan implied, that most of their forces were green, came to mind. This guy may well have been one of those promotions because he showed up, not because he deserved it.
"Got it."
"Good." Ramirez turned to me. "And what about you?"
Yeah… I've met a few officers like this. There weren't many by the end of the War though; if you couldn't hack it, you either washed out or got killed.
"Don't worry about me, I'm leaving soon."
He scowled. "That doesn't answer my question."
"Knight Sergeant Ramirez", Nate interjected, "we understand your position here, neither of us intend to impose on your authority."
"I'd like to hear that from him."
My companion opened his mouth to reply, but nothing came out. It drifted shut and he looked from the Brotherhood soldier to me.
Talking with this guy left a bad taste in my mouth, let alone conceding to him. People like him screw ops because they're more concerned with their authority than doing the right thing.
Whatever it takes to get the job done, right?
… Fine.
"I understand."
"Good. We are here for observation. Your presence changes the situation, but it doesn't change our mission objective."
Nate nodded. "Don't interfere, don't make any scenes. Got it."
"How long do you intend to stay?"
"A few days. Until Damon is back and these three are comfortable."
The seemingly perpetual scowl on Ramirez's face deepened. Was it because he didn't want to deal with the ex-soldier that long (I couldn't blame him) or orders he wasn't telling us about?
"I don't intend to disrupt our operations to accommodate you."
Operations? You're stuck here watching people all day.
"That's fine."
The knight looked like he wanted an argument, probably an excuse to report back to his leadership and get rid of Nate and the kids. "Alright."
Nate smiled, it wasn't friendly. Had he been thinking the same thing? "Good."
I needed to get out of the minuscule shack. Being around the two of them made me feel like I was standing in front of a junior officer with a stick so far up their ass, when they coughed, bark came out. I'd had my fair share of run-ins with those ones too; first and second Lieutenants, maybe even freshly branded Commanders and Captains who wanted to make sure everyone knew they graduated from officer school. The ones that couldn't fall in didn't last long. I might have taken a few liberties when handling the more… entitled ones. ONI tried to keep me clear of them for the most part.
Schadenfreude was one of the few pleasures I took part in outside of fighting.
"We need to talk for a minute", I said to my partner.
He nodded. "Right."
I met Cassandra's gaze for an instant and gave her a nod.
We left the three of them to get acquainted with their new 'guardians' as I extricated myself from the cramped shack.
Noise from the bustling market below drifted up toward us as I turned back to face the smaller man. I still had my reservations about leaving them with the Brotherhood, no protection besides the ex-soldier standing in their way. I didn't have another SPARTAN I could trust to keep them safe, but Nate wanted this, maybe as much as I did. It wasn't hard to see, even for me; he feels like he failed his son, the man has practically said as much on multiple occasions. For him, this is an opportunity to atone, at least in part.
Nate isn't a SPARTAN, but if I can trust any regular human to do this, it's him. It's the least I owe the aggravating bastard considering what he's leaving up to me.
"What do you think", he asked.
"Inexperienced, and another set of orders he isn't telling us about."
"I caught that too. He reminds me of the first staff sergeant I had. He didn't make it too long. I don't think I have much to worry about from them as long as I keep my head on a swivel. Our boy's poker face is garbage." Nate frowned. "My concern is if he calls in backup."
"Keep your head down until I get back."
"Mhmm." He nodded. "We always have our exit strategy if necessary." His voice didn't convey confidence. It wasn't something I wanted to try, mostly because we have no way of communicating, my suit's comms be damned. The ex-soldier sounded about as excited as I was.
"Try to stay on the same path coming up, use the east side of Cambridge."
"Yeah… I'm not looking forward to getting them up to Sanctuary if I have to." He frowned. "I'll get it done if it comes to that." Nate paused for a moment, chewing on his lower lip. "Do you really think Sturges can help?"
"No idea, but he isn't a normal 'handyman'." A guy in this world talking about Quantum Mechanics and wormholes… there's more to him than he lets on. "I think he might know someone who can if he can't."
After another moment's pause the smaller man shook himself out of thought. "Get moving then; I don't want to stay here with these guys any longer than I have to."
I hesitated, and this time my thoughts didn't start berating me to get moving. I didn't want to leave the four of them alone, it felt… wrong.
The ex-soldier noticed.
"Hey", he said, slapping my shoulder, "I got this, nothing will happen to them while I'm around."
He's got this…
Right.
I nodded and turned to walk back toward the stadium's entrance. The faster I get this done, the less time they have to spend at risk.
As I left Diamond City and began my trek through Boston's remains, I thought about how I would approach Sturges with my request. If he hadn't told me about his background when I'd helped them set up shop in Sanctuary, nothing would have changed over the past few weeks that would make him now. Coercion is always an option, but it was… distasteful, especially considering how much work I put into establishing their settlement.
And how they'd treated me afterward.
My best bet is probably to start by asking and go from there. It isn't how I like doing things, but I don't have many persuasive tactics outside of threats and blackmail.
As usual, I performed my routine to ensure I wasn't being followed. It was easier to tell in a dead, empty city like this; if anyone did manage to follow me, it would have been blatantly obvious. It was a little odd, but I didn't find anyone. Two possibilities came to mind: I lost whoever my tail was before I could, or the Brotherhood weren't tailing me because they knew I had to come back anyways. Sure, they wouldn't know where I went or what I did, but they may not want to risk me discovering anyone.
A few hours later, I was leaving the city proper and beginning through the remains of a suburb not unlike the one I found the kids in. Difference was no Supermutants, and no piles of dead bodies. A few random animals had tried to attack me, tried, but much to my disappointment, I didn't happen across any of the big yellow bastards. I even made sure to go by the tower they had shot at Nate and I from on our way in.
Always next time.
I hadn't made contact with Sanctuary since leaving, I had no way of knowing if they were even there anymore. That would suck; not only would it leave me with no other option for this chip, but we'd sent Valentine and Perkins there.
By the time I was circumventing the east side of Cambridge, the sun was reaching its peak. I gave the small suburb a wide berth. There was no use being careful through the city if I managed to pick up an unwanted tag along in an area it would be much easier to remain hidden.
As I marched through the barren wasteland that was the outskirts of Boston, a surge of nostalgia crept into the back of my mind. It's only been a few weeks since I left Sanctuary, but… I felt different. It wasn't hard to figure out why, and I'd be lying to myself if I didn't admit a part of me was happy to see the small community again. They were familiar, and friendly. Or as friendly as someone could be to a SPARTAN III who (literally) fell out of the sky.
It was just past noon when the small neighborhood came into view to the north. It didn't look like it had been ransacked. To the contrary, there were signs of more planning and reinforcement: Several of the houses on the beach had the holes patched and scrap fencing between them to prevent anyone who managed to sneak onto shore from intruding through them. I noticed several firing positions partially disguised as gaps in the construction. A few of the more intact houses on the far side had what looked like armored perches on their roofs for overwatch. No one occupied them, but it would be incredibly helpful in a firefight. I couldn't see anyone on watch, but that didn't mean they weren't. Considering the well hidden fighting positions, it was likely their sentries would be concealed as well.
A small burst of satisfaction made its way through my mind; it looks like they took what I taught them to heart.
Once I was within a few hundred meters of the bridge, I saw motion inside the settlement, and a moment later Preston, Valentine, Alexandra, and another man I didn't recognize emerged onto the street connected to it.
They sent out a welcome committee, how polite.
"It's been a while", Preston called as I reached the south end of the bridge. He was wearing a lopsided grin beneath the ridiculous wide brimmed hat he still wore.
I glanced between him and the rest of the party. Valentine was likewise smiling, while Alexandra seemed surprised. The last one, a shorter, lean man, with a face that was clearly young, but had miles on it, seemed hesitant.
"It has." I stopped in front of the group at the north end of the bridge.
"Like what we've done with the place?" I nodded. "Damon, I'd like to introduce you to Robert MacCready." Preston motioned to the newcomer. "He's a mercenary who used to work in Goodneighbor, but the Gunners ran him out. He helped set up a lot of the new defenses."
Ah, so it wasn't just what I taught them.
I ran my eyes over the smaller man; he had a 10 mm on his right hip and rifle slung over his back. I didn't miss the small bulge in under the left side of his jacket, probably a chest holster, and the way he held his hand, just under the hem of his coat, I'd guess there was either a knife or another handgun there. His eyes belonged in a different face; they were hard and piercing, with too much bitterness for someone as young as him. As if I'm one to talk about that. His blank expression and almost unblinking stare as I watched his eyes drill into me said the mercenary was studying me the same way I was him.
This guy is experienced.
"MacCready, this is Damon. He's the one we've been talking about."
After a moment of silence, the mercenary nodded. "Pleasure to meet a supersoldier from another reality." His voice said he believed that story about as much as I would.
I didn't need that information to spread around. Valentine's smile had grown wider.
I looked back to the Minuteman. "I would appreciate if you didn't tell that to everyone. Or anyone."
He chuckled. "It's difficult to explain you any other way."
"Then don't."
The dark skinned man cocked an eyebrow. "Still as social as ever, I see."
That probably won't change.
"Part of my charm."
"Right." He waved me forward and we began walking back toward the bustling sounds within the settlement. "What brings you back here?"
"I don't suppose you're here to tell Ellie and I we're clear to head back home", Valentine said.
"No, the Brotherhood are all over Diamond City. It isn't safe."
The detective nodded solemnly. "Yeah, we kinda figured, it's why we've stayed here this long."
"I'm here to talk with Sturges."
Preston glanced at me. "About?"
"The fewer that know it, the better."
"Uh huh, still agreeable too."
"I don't want to put you in any more danger than I already am."
"So you're watching out for us, huh? It isn't because it means less explaining for you, soldier boy?" Alexandra laughed and a small smile drifted across my face as she did. It felt… good to be back.
"That too."
"Well, it's still nice to have you around again, at least for a little while."
As we turned the corner into the settlement's main area, the scope of just how much they'd done in a short time hit me. When I left, there were eight people, no infrastructure, and very little security. At least double that number were milling around the street and in houses. Several planters were arranged in the yards with crops already seeded, several floodlights were positioned on houses and in the streets, wired to what looked like a small generator, and they'd clearly reinforced more of the houses.
"Yeah", Alexandra said as she watched me study the settlement, "we got lucky with MacCready here, and one of the families we came across was able to get our crops up and running." There was a sour note under her excitement. Had something happened?
"Any more attacks?"
"Nah, but the Commonwealth can be harsh."
I couldn't argue with that; I've had my own first hand experiences with it now. I can't say it's the War, but in its own way, it might be worse.
Several of the new residents stopped and stared as we approached the center of the settlement. Julian trotted over from the yellow house with the car port they seemed to have set up as their main common area. He wasn't as slim and gaunt as when I first met the teenager in Concord. It looks like he took to training well.
"Hey Damon, how's it going?"
I nodded to Alexandra's son. "Still alive."
He smiled. "Where's Nate?"
"Diamond City. Things have gotten… complicated."
"No surprise", Preston said, "when the Brotherhood showed up, I think all of our lives got a lot more complicated. Nick told us you and Nate decided to join?" He sounded confused.
"Temporarily, that's why things have gotten complicated."
"I see, well I assume you'll be sticking around for at least a little while."
"A day or two. We're on a short timetable."
Preston smiled again. "Good, you can tell us all about your complicated adventures over dinner."
Not likely.
"For now, let's go find Sturges." The minuteman turned toward the eastern side of the neighborhood. "I'm sure that bastard's breaking something", he muttered as he started walking.
MacCready followed behind. He never strayed within arm's reach, but I could feel his glare drilling into the back of my head. He was young, and tried to project calm, but the mercenary radiated… not aggression, but something not too far off. Preston didn't seem to notice; maybe this is a 'takes one to know one' situation. If that's the case, it might be why, other than most people's customary wariness around older generation SPARTANs, he was so suspicious of me.
It turns out the engineer was breaking something. Or had already broken it. The minuteman and I found Sturges behind one of the houses at the back of the settlement. He was standing over a disassembled rifle and a bunch of other components I didn't recognize on a tarp, staring at them, looking annoyed. The grease covered man turned to us as the rustling of dry shrubbery announced our arrival.
"Damon", he exclaimed, black streaked face lighting up, "good seein ya again."
I nodded.
"Give me a few." The engineer turned back to the pieces, scratching his head. "Trying to figure out what I got wrong."
"I'll leave you two alone", Preston said as he turned to leave. He slapped MacCready's back on his way. "Come on, let's give them some space."
"You sure?"
The minuteman nodded. "Don't worry about him, Damon's good people."
MacCready's eyes narrowed. Yeah, there's definitely something more there than the normal wariness. As long as he didn't do anything stupid, it wouldn't be a problem.
"Whatever you say."
As the two of them left, I walked over to stand beside Sturges as he looked down at the assortment of pieces in front of him. There were the parts of what looked like one of the HK-33 assault rifles, several pneumatic actuators, a tripod, and what might have been optical motion sensors.
"Are you building a turret?"
He nodded absently. "Trying. I can wire all this up, but once something trips the sensors, damn thing won't let go of the trigger. Then there's the problem of it shooting someone we don't want it to."
Automated systems in the UNSC were almost universally run by AI, especially if they had combat relevance. He may be able to solve the issue of shooting people who live here with an FOF system, but passersby wouldn't have the benefit of that. Not to mention the problem with it shooting at anything moving that may not be a person. How had the emplacements Kellogg set up in Hagen worked?
"Dammit." Sturges turned back to me. "So what brings you back our way?"
I slipped off my satchel and pulled the gauze wrapped chip from its pouch. "I need help getting to the Institute." Unwinding the dressing, I held the small circuit board in front of him. "This is a chip I took from one of their Coursers. It's supposed to provide access to their teleportation network."
The engineer cocked an eyebrow at me as he gingerly took the chip, careful to avoid the contacts, or smearing grease across the circuits. There was something strange in his expression though; it was only there for an instant, and may have slipped by someone else, but he didn't hide it well enough.
"I don't know if I should be surprised you managed to track one of them down and kill it", he said as he examined my finding.
I shrugged. "You didn't say much about them last time I asked, but you know more about the Institute than you let on."
There was a brief hesitation between the statement and the engineer meeting my gaze. Again, it was subtle, but it was there. I've never paid much attention to reading people, but most have tells if one cares enough to look.
"That wasn't a question."
I shook my head.
"You're assuming that. Is it because my… hobbies?"
"In part."
"What's the other part?"
"CIT. You said you would need more material from there."
"I'm not the only one who knows about the place."
"Most seem too afraid of the Institute to go there."
Sturges didn't respond as he continued looking up into my visor, chip held between us. The sounds from others working were the only intrusions in our impromptu staring contest. If he wants to play this game, I guarantee I'll win.
It didn't take long. A few seconds later, the engineer sighed. "I could lie and tell you I don't. Would you know the difference?"
"Probably."
"Right, I've never had a good poker face." He nodded. "I do, but I can't exactly help you with this; I don't have the equipment here I'd need."
That made sense; if these things are as advanced as they seemed, he'd need more than a few rocks to bang together to get whatever it is I need from the chip.
"Do you know anyone who can?"
Another brief hesitation.
"Possibly."
I waited.
"They're a group that… doesn't like the Institute very much. They'll have everything you need."
"Who are they?"
"Look", he said, after a moment's pause, "I know you're trying to get into the Institute, but they'll kill these people if they find them, and I can't take that risk. They've done right by me and a lot of others."
I didn't know how to respond to that. I wasn't interested in selling whoever this group was out, but I don't think Sturges was expecting me to. He couldn't take the risk because if these people are high enough on the Institute's shit list the engineer thinks they would be killed on sight, the Institute might know they're the ones that helped me.
And this is where a bit of coercion wouldn't go amiss… Personal relationships overcomplicate things
"Is there any way they can help us without putting them at risk?"
The grease covered man looked from me back down to the chip in his hand, face impassive. "I'll have to think about it." He handed the circuit board back to me. "While I'm doing that, why don't you make the rounds and see what you think of our improvements? I'll give you the tour, there's some stuff I'm especially proud of."
It was my turn to hesitate for a moment. I didn't want to wait, but if this turned into a potential lead, abandoning it after five minutes would be stupid.
I nodded.
X
A few hours later, I was standing outside the relatively intact yellow house the group had turned into their communal area. Alexandra had pestered me to eat with the group but, despite being happy to see them, I'm still not comfortable. The others were inside, everyone except for two sentries and a young man, maybe around my age, tending to the planters. It was hard to tell exactly how old he was because the taller, blond haired settler was incredibly gaunt. He was around the same height as Preston, but couldn't have weighed more than 65 kilos.
The sickly looking man ignored me, which was odd enough, but he also seemed to be in a lot of pain. His movements were jerky, and based on the occasional fumble of a trowel or hand rake, I don't think he had full motor control.
Now that I was thinking about it, no one else had been taking care of the planters while Sturges gave me the tour. I'd picked out most of what they'd done on my way in, but the group had also established fallback positions, as well as packed supplies in case they needed a quick exit. For a smaller community, it was a decent set up.
Footsteps drifted up from behind as someone walked across the house's carport toward me.
"You sure you don't want to eat", Alexandra said. She was determined…
I turned to look down at her as she stopped next to me, a plate full of food in her hands.
Dammit. How the hell am I supposed to say 'yes'?
She knew it too.
I took the plate before motioning to the young man weeding the planters. "Who's he?"
"Charlie. He's-" she stopped mid-sentence. I couldn't tell if it was because she was thinking, or didn't want to continue. After a few quiet seconds, she cleared her throat. "His family came about two weeks ago, they were all very sick. Charlie's mom and dad didn't survive past the first night. Radiation poisoning. We got him back on his feet and he's been taking care of the crops we planted, but he won't let anyone else touch them now. We don't know for sure, but we think they were farmers."
When I glanced down, Alexandra offered me a sad smile. "Like I said: the Commonwealth can be harsh."
So it seems…
"You didn't bring him dinner?"
She shook her head. "He keeps food in his room."
Hmm. That's something I get; I couldn't eat in my quarters, but taking my meals in the galley alone was the next best thing.
"Has he taught anyone else how to take care of your plants?"
"No. He doesn't do much talking." Alexandra shrugged. "He wants to take care of the crops, we'll let him for now."
"And if he dies?"
I met Alexandra's gaze as she stared silently. The guy dying probably wasn't something she wanted to think about, but she's been around enough death, she should know to be prepared. If his motor function has deteriorated this far, it's a sign his bone marrow is damaged to the point it's unable to produce adequate blood cells. Charlie is extremely sick, and without proper facilities to treat him, he will die.
"We're preparing for that", she said eventually. "The supplies we have can only do so much, we know."
Preparing for that? I don't know if observation is a good substitute for experience gardening, but these people have survived out here their entire lives. They didn't need me to tell them how to grow food. Not that I actually know.
I nodded. "If Sturges comes looking for me, I'll be near the armory."
Before I could take more than a step, Alexandra placed a hand on my arm. "Hey, do you-" She pulled her arm back and looked at the ground between her feet. "Never mind."
My feet almost continued carrying me forward, but somewhere in the back of my head, I wanted to hear her question. The only other time I'd heard the woman sound that… forlorn was when I first met her.
"What", I asked as I turned back to her.
Alexandra squinted up at me. She looked unsure, like she didn't know if she should ask whatever was on her mind.
I cocked my head and, after a few more seconds of silence, she let out a low sigh.
"Charlie won't say, but I think his farm was attacked, and they were captured. That's where they were exposed."
"Why?"
"There's a Raider gang in the area who call themselves the Forged. They- they're real bastards. We met another family around there, the Finches, who were attacked a couple times too." Her voice grew harder as she spoke. "We can't do anything about them."
The woman didn't ask, but the implication was clear enough. I wasn't opposed to helping, but contacting the Institute has to be my priority. If I decided otherwise, the Supermutants would be first on my shit list.
"It depends. I'm still trying to get to the Institute."
Irritation flashed across Alexandra's face, but she nodded. "I get it. I'm just worried they might hear about what you did to Crank's gang and come after us too. They're supposed to be a bigger group."
Crank's- oh, the group I saved them from.
"Understood. I'll help if I get the time."
She started to say something, but stopped herself. As much as it annoyed her, and I had to admit, saying no bothered me too, we both knew I wasn't going to change my answer.
"Okay."
I nodded before turning to walk toward Nate's old house.
The food was good, or at least better than the packaged fare and MREs I've been eating for the past few weeks. The plate was full of fresh vegetables, some sort of meat, and something that looked like a cross between a plum and apple.
The group finished eating just after I started and I listened to them spread back out around the neighborhood. It was odd, being around this many people in an openly hostile environment. The closest I'd come is the one time I'd deployed with ODSTs, but that felt like a lifetime ago.
As I ate, early evening sunlight streaming through the house's pockmarked walls, I thought about what I'd do if Sturges refused to help. I could offer to take care of their Raider problem in exchange for his cooperation, but that would take time we probably don't have. Could I offer it post-facto… I don't know, I'm not one for negotiating. I generally have those conversations over broken bones.
What other options might be available? I can't go to the Brotherhood, is it possible Valentine knows of someone who can help? There's someone in Goodneighbor who has access to Brain Machine Interfaces, it wasn't unreasonable to think there are others with what I need.
Unsurprisingly, Sturges didn't come find me while I was eating. Once I finished, I took a long pull from my canteen, slipped my helmet back on, and brought the plate back into their communal house.
Where the Engineer was waiting.
"So, Damon, if we're going to do this, I need something from you." I hadn't known what to expect, so this was encouraging, but I've always hated conditional statements like that. I nodded for him to continue. "The Institute has a lot of tech and information that could be very useful to lots of different people." Sturges pulled something from his pocket; it looked like a memory drive, not unlike the one Kellogg had given us. "I need to be sure, one, they don't go after these people, and I want to get as much of that information as I can."
"You want me to steal it from them."
"More or less. This can transmit live, so I just need you to plant it in their main server."
"If your friends are so interested in the Institute, or vice versa, why wouldn't they be asking me to do this?"
"Oh they probably will. This is for me though."
Great… people spying on each other. That's another thing I didn't have to deal with much; if ONI was sending me somewhere, my intel gathering wouldn't be by planting info taps.
"Okay."
"Great", Sturges exclaimed. "I assume you're trying to move fast, so we'll leave tomorrow morning. The group we're gonna meet with is called The Railroad. They operate out of downtown Boston."
I had my answer, but there was one hangup.
"We."
"You want my help, this is how you're getting it."
The number of ways this could go sideways…
"That isn't a good idea."
"No shit Sherlock. Do you think I want to go skipping through this hell again? You need someone to introduce you, and I don't want to risk they're safety."
"I can move faster, and quieter, on my own."
The engineer shook his head. "It ain't about that. These guys are very anal about security, comes with the territory when the people you're fighting can teleport anywhere. You aren't the greatest at first impressions, and I need to be there to make sure everything goes smoothly."
I couldn't tell if 'goes smoothly' meant I got past their security measures, or none of them ended up dead. Maybe a bit of both?
Why does everyone need to be involved in everything? Dragging Nate all over this damn wasteland was trouble enough, and soon I'd be doing the same thing with the three kids. I wasn't enthusiastic about bringing Sturges into the city when I'd also have to escort him back here.
"There's no other way to contact them?"
"No, not that wouldn't put them at risk-" He paused, squinting at me. "Well…" The engineer fell quiet, gaze drifting up to the ceiling. If there was some reasonable way to make this happen without needing to go into the city, I'd take that any day. "There… may be one."
I cocked my head.
"I'd still need to go with you, but we might be able to stay away from the city for now. The Railroad monitors most radio frequencies, it wouldn't be too hard to leave a meeting place for them."
Set up a meeting over open, unencrypted frequencies?
"That's secure?"
"If we do it right."
"They'll show?"
"Again, if we do it right."
"And what is 'right'?"
Sturges opened his mouth to respond, but it snapped shut an instant later. He chewed on his lower lip for a moment before sighing. "That's personal, but they'll know."
"I'd feel better if I did."
"Sorry, you're asking me for a favor, you're going to have to trust me big guy."
Trust you? I'm supposed to trust you? It had taken me the better part of a month, and several firefights, to begin trusting Nate, and that's still a fight at times. Now Sturges wants me to trust him just for asking?
Am I not asking for his trust too?
How?
By asking him to put me in touch with the Railroad, who the Institute apparently wants dead.
I didn't have an answer for that. It's true, but… trust is a difficult thing.
"How long do you need?"
"To get them a message? A few minutes."
"When would the introduction be?"
"They work quick. Probably tomorrow afternoon."
So I'm trusting him to set up a meet n greet with another mysterious group with no knowledge of who they are or what they do. Great, just great.
"Can't solve every problem by killing something." Amanda of all people said that. Another SPARTAN. I'm still not sure if I agree, you just have to kill the right something.
But I would say some problems are better solved by… other means. Now.
This problem, this is probably one of those that should be solved with a little less violence.
"Can you tell me where we're going?"
The engineer nodded. "Oberland station, or close to it anyways. It's about halfway between here and downtown along the railroad tracks that used to run south into the city."
So we'd be out in the wasteland around the city; at least I wouldn't have to escort another person through that hellhole.
"Fine."
Sturges let out a deep exhale. "Okay, I'll get started, we'll head out tomorrow morning."
With nothing else to do, the rest of the evening was spent walking Sanctuary's perimeter. I caught MacCready watching me in the cover of houses from time to time. I don't know if he noticed, or if he cared; I put the man off, which isn't a surprise, but there was something else.
It piqued my curiosity. I was used to the distrustful, sometimes almost hateful looks I got from some, but this isn't that.
The next time I felt his stare, I was crossing back from the south end of the bridge. I stopped to look directly at him and the mercenary, who was lurking between two houses just off the beach, froze. Guess he didn't think I knew he was watching.
No one else was in view. There may have been someone tucked in one of the houses they'd set up as watch posts, but if they were, I couldn't see them.
What did I want to do? His hostility didn't bother me, but the strange discontent radiating from the man made me uncomfortable. I only have a handful of ways to deal with something that makes me uncomfortable, and most of them end up with the subject of that discomfort dead. I don't think the others would appreciate me killing MacCready.
After a moment's consideration, I motioned him to leave his cover. The mercenary hesitated, but he had to know if I wanted to kill him, my rifle wouldn't be resting against my chest.
A few seconds later, he stalked out of the path between the houses, cast in shadow by the reddening, setting sun.
I walked to the end of the bridge, and we stood in silence, watching each other with the quiet only interrupted by the conversation drifting from the settlement.
"What do you want", he demanded, eventually.
Shouldn't I be asking that?
"You've been watching me. Why?"
"You're dangerous."
I cocked my head. "Yes… not to these people."
"You smell like a killer."
My eyes narrowed. I don't know how I smelled like a killer, but he didn't have any room to talk.
"Likewise."
MacCready cracked an amused smile. "I don't have anywhere near that much blood on me. It's like you decided to make soap out of it."
… Weird analogy.
"What's your point?"
"I've never been around someone who makes me feel like if I turn my back, you're going to break my neck. Well… I mean unless they're actually trying to kill me."
"I have no reason to. I helped these people set up this settlement."
"You have no reason to? I don't think that's as comforting as you think it is."
I shrugged. It's the truth.
The mercenary paused, waiting for an answer. After a ten count, he realized it was up to him to continue the conversation.
"Why did you help them?"
What? Why did I- Why the hell does it matter to you?
"Because I wanted to."
"That doesn't make me feel any better either." MacCready shook his head. "What happens when you feel like attacking us?"
What happens- what? I could understand his wariness, but I wasn't about to stand here and have my motives questioned by some random mercenary who just came onto the scene.
"Then that'll suck for you. Don't give me a reason to."
He frowned. "I'm not going along with that."
We have nothing else to talk about then.
"Don't follow me anymore."
"And if I do?"
So you want to play this game. Finding someone who's more aggravating than Nate… goddamn.
"Depends. You'll probably end up unconscious, tied up in one of the houses until they find you."
MacCready hesitated, most likely because he could tell I wasn't joking.
"Don't do anything stupid."
My body tensed and I took a step forward.
No, no, doing something to him won't help anything.
That's a line you don't cross. It pissed me off with Nate, it pissed me off with Maxson.
Me being pissed off doesn't warrant killing someone.
"Never threaten me", I said, my voice barely above a whisper.
The mercenary's eyes narrowed, and he opened his mouth, but nothing came out. Instead, he cleared his throat, shaking his head, and turned back toward the settlement. I watched him as he left, anger still bubbling at the back of my mind.
Asshole.
What irritated me even more was I got his unease; I probably would be tense if I were in his position. I didn't want to sympathize, I just wanted to be pissed at him, not myself, but if an unknown, extremely dangerous person waltzed up and started acting friendly with the locals, I'd be suspicious too.
His… specific examples were strange though; that I smelled like a killer, and that he could tell how much blood I had on me. He wasn't wrong, but where would he pick up on something like that?
Those thoughts continued to drift through my mind as I walked back to the settlement and let Preston know I was going to get some shut eye. What a novelty: sleeping two nights in a row.
As I settled into a house near the neighborhood's bridge, I wondered, not for the first time, what people saw when they looked at me. MacCready is an extreme case, but do other people pick up on whatever the mercenary did to a lesser degree? Most regular people tend to be uncomfortable around SPARTANs, but I was under no delusions it was worse with me.
Maybe it's my glowing personality.
Yeah… maybe.
X
Hmmm. Sturges wouldn't lure me into a trap, let alone one that relied on me asking him to help, but it sure felt like it.
We were standing in a large railroad intersection he'd called Oberland Station. The engineer said we would be near it, not in the damn thing. It wasn't much, basically a small tower that looked like it operated switchgear for the few tracks that connected here. There were two train cars still resting on the railroad. Judging by how thoroughly the wheels were rusted to the track, they probably hadn't moved since the bomb dropped on Boston.
The entire thing was on a raised causeway that made me feel like, no matter where I hid, I was vulnerable from damn near everywhere. Around us were scattered trees and boulders with a broken interstate looming to the southwest.
Waiting for the better part of four hours had me on edge. Sturges had said whoever the Railroad sent would be cautious, and only make contact when they were sure there was no danger. I was still wondering how he knew they would show. What's his relationship with them? Why would they come running based on whatever cryptic message he'd left for them?
I refrained from asking the engineer, not only because I was far too focused on our surroundings, with countless places we could be ambushed from, but he clearly didn't want to talk about it. The information wasn't mission critical, and whether or not I knew didn't change the outcome here, so I settled next to one of the broken down train cars while Sturges stood by the lonely white tower, facing me. By hour two, the breathing exercises I used to temper my impatience had worn thin, so now I was stuck with my growing agitation until something happened.
Maybe I'd get lucky and some wild animal would come along and take its chances. Or better yet, Supermutants.
The engineer's slow, steady breathing and carefully neutral expression projected calm, but the constant fidgeting with his coveralls betrayed his discomfort. Considering how he and the rest of the group got to Sanctuary, it probably wasn't being out here that made him nervous. Is he getting impatient too? Is he nervous he may have oversold his pull with this group? Or is he afraid of getting them involved with me?
I continued scanning our surroundings, half hoping for a Raider group to come charging across the dead, rolling terrain. No such luck though. The sun continued its slow, arduous journey up toward its peak with no action to speak of.
Dammit, sometimes I really hate I can't just shoot my problems. It would make-
My thoughts froze, and I strained my ears, turning the gain up on my helmet's microphones. I heard… something that sounded an awful lot like dirt grinding under a boot from the northwest.
As I signaled for Sturges to stay put, I slipped around the train car and began scanning the area.
A split second later, the crunching reached me again, now perfectly clear with my helmet amplifying the sound. It was too soft and deliberate to be someone walking regularly, and too distinct and irregular to be an animal.
It was a person who knew we were here. Sturges' contact?
Nothing made itself apparent, but there were enough boulders, trees, and dead underbrush to hide a platoon.
Another crunch. Then another. They were still subdued, but whoever was down there was getting closer. I narrowed the noise to a cluster of rocks 20 meters down the embankment.
Only one?
I hadn't picked up any other sounds, and the gain on my helmet was almost at its max. Between it and my own hearing, I could make out the engineer's low, shallow breathing from behind the tower, 15 meters away. If there was anything else in the area, I'd probably hear it.
"CAN'T MAKE GOOD BRAHMIN STEAK WITHOUT SOME SALT!"
That wince I couldn't stifle. The call came from behind the large group of rocks I had centered in my sights.
I managed to drop my audio back to normal levels just as Sturges replied.
"That and some good Mutfruit glaze."
Corny passphrases? What the hell is this? A bad spy story?
"Haha, so it is you", our mystery guest said in a low, smooth voice before stepping out from behind the cluster. The man was on the taller side, with jet black hair, large, round sunglasses, and a face that was hard to age. He was dressed in regular fare for the merchants I'd seen in the area: worn cargo pants, a flannel button down shirt, and thick jacket. I didn't see any weapons besides the 10mm handgun on his hip, but that didn't mean anything.
The probable railroad contact hesitated for an instant as he saw me, but it was barely enough to spot, even for me. Sturge's footsteps crunched over the dirt and gravel ground as he approached the edge of the embankment.
"I'm shocked you came, Deacon."
"Oh", Deacon said as he began climbing toward us. "You think I'd let anyone else come out here to find out what you want?" His glasses were tinted dark, but I could feel his eye on me the entire time.
"I'm just glad you remembered. Didn't want to walk across this damn wasteland for nothing."
I shook my head; I had a feeling Sturges was operating on hopes and dreams, but I didn't want to be right.
"Ha, would be hard to forget." The two of them reached me at the same time. "So who's this. Don't know him from anywhere." Deacon was as hard to read as Maxson; his placid face and neutral tone gave nothing away. I don't like that.
Sturges extended a hand and the two shook. "This is who I called you all the way to the middle of nowhere for. He needs some help with a little Institute problem. He has a Courser chip, and needs to access the Molecular Relay."
I glanced around the sparse forest. Nothing moved, and I couldn't see any threats, but this place was a little too open. Is that why Sturges chose it?
The Railroad member arched an eyebrow. "That so… Mind if I see it?"
"I do", I said.
"And why's that?"
"I don't know you." I left the 'I don't trust you' unsaid.
"And I'm supposed to trust you? Killing a Courser isn't an easy thing to do." He left the 'am I supposed to believe you' unsaid.
"You never have?"
"We have once or twice… not without destroying its brain though."
"I guess I should introduce you two", Sturges cut in, "Damon, this is Deacon, he's one of the Railroad's best people. Deacon, Damon. He's…" The engineer glanced at me. "He's the local walking apocalypse."
Walking apocalypse? That's a new one.
"Oh yeah? You're about 200 years too late Mr. Apocalypse."
That depends on who you ask.
I shrugged and after it became clear I didn't have a response, Sturges continued.
"He killed it, I've seen the chip, it's legit."
I could feel Deacon's gaze running over me head to toe behind his dark tinted glasses. "If that's the case, you must be as dangerous as our venerable engineer says. Why do you want to get into the Institute?"
"That's my business."
The Railroad member shook his head. "Sorry friend, I'm not helping you if I don't know whether it will hurt us or not."
"He's-" Sturges paused, glancing at me. "Damon, these guys are used to weird shit. I'm talking really weird."
Multiverse brand of 'weird'? Does telling him pose a risk? Realistically, it doesn't matter who knows about me, provided it doesn't get back to the Brotherhood. At least not until I'm ready to stab them in the back. On top of that, these people run a clandestine operation; if they're at odds with the Institute, they'd have to if they want to stay alive. Helping me is a risk just for the fact I'll know who they are and, if they have to take me to a base or headquarters to help, where they operate. That means leverage.
But do I want to tell this guy about how I got here? Or where I'm from?
It doesn't matter if I want to, what do I have to do to complete the mission?
I knew the answer, but something about it felt off.
It wasn't difficult to tell the group at Sanctuary.
I was still suffering from a major concussion, and had no clue what was happening.
And I'm just making excuses.
Dammit…
"I need their help getting back to my reality."
This time both eyebrows shot up. It was the first hint of emotion Deacon had shown.
"Now that isn't something I expected to hear." He paused and thought for a moment. I couldn't tell if it was about whether he believed me or not. I'd be skeptical.
"Yeah, the tech in their Molecular Relay would be the closest thing we have that might be able to help."
Wait… he bought that?
"I was thinking about that", Sturges replied, "you think they can make the adjustments? Theoretically, opening a wormhole between universes is possible; with the same set of principles. They'd need a lot more energy to open it, and more exotic matter to stabilize the bridge."
Wait… so, was the UNSC experimenting with teleporters when this happened? Maybe new FTL technology? If Sturges is anywhere close, they had the concept right, they just got the math wrong.
And I ended up in a different universe...
Deacon shrugged. "I don't know enough about that crap, but maybe." He looked up at me, then back to the engineer.
"Where did you guys meet?"
Sturge's face fell. "We were run out of Quincy by the Gunners. Got trapped in Concord with a bunch of raiders on our tail. He saved us and got us set up in Sanctuary."
After another short pause, the Railroad member's gaze switched back to me. "And who are you, exactly? That gear ain't anything we've got here. Did it come from your 'reality'?"
"Yes."
"You gonna answer that first question?"
"I'm a soldier."
"Yeah", Deacon said through a sigh, "figured that out myself, thanks though." He looked at Sturges again. "You trust this guy?"
The engineer nodded. "I'd say 'with my life', but that's kind of a given at this point." I cocked my head at him. "Well my ass would have been cooked twice now, probably more without your help preparing our new home, so… duh."
"Is there any way he knew you had contact with us when you met?"
"No. It's a long story, but I know enough to tell he isn't lying." Sturges must have been talking about our… conversation my first night here.
"Hmm."
The Railroad member fell silent again and my gaze returned to roaming around the surrounding forest. There was still no movement, and the area looked oddly peaceful. I didn't feel like I was being watched, but if someone is good enough, it wouldn't matter. And it may not be someone else from this guy's group, it could be the Brotherhood, it could be Gunners, Raiders, or whoever else might have an interest in me or him.
"Okay", Deacon said eventually, "we'll help but we need a few things in return." I motioned for him to continue. "First: we keep the chip after we're done. Second: if you're as good as you sound, we'll need a bit of help. Third: we'll need some specialized equipment to make this work; that's up to you to get. Sound fair?"
I didn't need the chip, and gathering material for something I need isn't an issue either.
"What help?"
"Just getting a few Synths to safety is all."
My eyes narrowed. "Synths?"
"Yeah, we saved them from the Institute."
Save Synths from the Institute? That's why they're on bad terms but… "Why?"
Deacon shrugged. "Because they deserve a better life than slavery."
Slavery?
More and more questions began bouncing around my head, but this wasn't the right place to ask; we'd spent enough time out in the open.
"As long as it doesn't put me on bad terms with the Institute."
"You've already killed one of their Coursers; those bastards are all monitored. They know."
Shit. It was something I'd considered, but there's a difference between a possibility and knowing for sure.
"Fine."
The ghost of a smile crossed Deacon's lips. "Good. You know where Diamond City is?" I nodded. "Meet me in the market, noon, day after tomorrow. I'll be wearing these", he pointed to his glasses, "and a blue baseball hat."
These guys were clearly careful. If he wants to meet at the stadium, it would be a good idea to tell him about Nate. "I have someone else with me. He's trying to get his kid back from them."
"Not an uncommon story. Do you know for sure they have him?"
I nodded. "Kellogg told me."
This time, the man's short pause was clearly astonishment.
"Kellogg", Sturges stammered, just as surprised. "You talked with Kellogg?"
"Sort of."
"Did… you kill him?"
I nodded again.
Deacon chuckled. "Well now I'm impressed. Alright then, I'll take my leave before anyone finds us. I'll see you in a few days."
"Good to see you again Deacon." Sturges stuck out a hand again.
"You too."
They shook and the Railroad member turned to walk back down the embankment. Something about the guy put me on edge. It was impossible to tell if he was lying, and that was disconcerting. I'd give Sturges the benefit of the doubt, but being prepared wouldn't go amiss here.
"Let's get moving", I said after watching him disappear back behind the large outcropping of rocks.
The engineer nodded as he gazed into the forest after Deacon.
Despite myself, I didn't spend the walk back thinking about the moves ahead of me. Something about this situation, it didn't feel wrong, but I was missing something. What Sturges had said the day before about the Railroad: 'they've done right by me and a lot of others.' More than that, he knows a lot more about the Institute than anyone else I've met, including Valentine, or the Brotherhood. Deacon said they rescued Synths from the Institute; I'm not sure what he meant by 'slavery', but Sturges had a past with them. It was possible he could have been a Railroad member at some point, but that statement… the engineer made it sound like he was part of the group they 'did right by'.
"You're a Synth", I said as we stopped to allow the engineer a few moments' rest.
He froze, canteen halfway to his mouth, eyes glued on my visor. "What?"
"'They've done right by me and a lot of others'. They rescued you from the Institute."
Sturges was silent a handful of seconds longer before clearing his throat.
"My damn mouth", he whispered as he lowered his water. "This is part of the reason I don't like talking about them."
"The message, and your cheesy security phrase, it had something to do with that."
"Yes."
If he was so worried about someone finding out… "Why did you agree to help me?"
"You helped us."
"I fulfilled my end of our arrangement."
Sturges chuckled. "You really think a little information was a fair trade for saving us?"
"I-" Was it? Those Raiders weren't much to fight, even with one arm. From their perspective though… like he said: I'd saved them. It meant more to them than the effort I put in. "I don't know."
The engineer was still smiling. "Well, the answer you're looking for is 'no', big guy."
Okay, that seemed reasonable, but there were other ways he could have offered to help, not that I would have agreed to anything other than a face to face meeting. He might have known that, or there was another motive.
"Why else?"
Wait, did I really just ask that? Why would he put me in touch with people who were risking their lives to undermine the Institute.
"You want me to help destroy the Institute."
"I'm not that stupid. Whatever issues they have, the Institute has good people in there and a lot of tech that could save a lot of people out here." The engineer shook his head. "That drive I gave you, the information we can get from them could help grow food, make medicine, and give everyone in Sanctuary, in the Commonwealth a better life. I may have been grown in a tube, but I want the same thing everyone else does: a safe, comfortable life. If I can give that to other people along the way", he shrugged, "I don't see any reason I shouldn't."
"Does anyone else know about you?"
He shook his head. So he doesn't want anyone knowing. Makes sense, it means less risk for him, and for anyone around who might be caught in the crossfire if someone like the Brotherhood of Steel came knocking. Provided they agree to get me back to my own reality, or at least try, I wasn't going to put myself at odds with the Institute (I'll have enough enemies by then), but if giving the group at Sanctuary access to their knowledge base would help them survive, I did take the time to help them establish their settlement.
"Okay."
"You won't tell anyone?"
I shook my head.
He took a deep breath and nodded. "Thanks."
I nodded and the engineer took a hesitant swig from his canteen. He glanced back toward the southwest, where the station was, before looking me up and down again.
"You're a lot smarter than you look."
What? I cocked my head.
"I mean, you don't fill the 'big dumb killing machine' stereotype very well."
Maybe I didn't talk to enough, but I never met a 'dumb' SPARTAN. "And…?"
"You've talked to enough of the people who play soldier around here, right? The Brotherhood of Steel, gangs, probably ran into some Gunners along the way. They all just try to swing the biggest stick."
"Things are different when you're fighting a war." Especially one like mine.
He shrugged. "Maybe."
The rest of the trip was uneventful, as was that night. I stayed in the same house I had the day before, letting them handle their own patrols. The next few days probably wouldn't allow me much sleep. I finished eating and, no sooner than I'd slipped my helmet on, I heard a pair of footsteps approaching from the settlement's main strip, for lack of a better term.
"Damon", Perkin's voice called inside.
I stood to greet the secretary, and what was probably Valentine. "I'm here."
She appeared in front entrance, sun at her back, casting a long shadow across the doorway.
"We haven't gotten a chance for a real hello." She walked into the decrepit living room followed by the detective. "Or give you a proper thanks."
A proper thanks?
"How so?"
"Well", Valentine said, "keeping the Brotherhood out of our hair is a good place to start. These people seem to like you despite you being- well, you." The Synth smirked. "Making jokes at your expense is a lot more fun when everyone does it."
"Right."
"And", Perkins cut in, "sending us here. It's remarkable what Preston and his people have managed to do here. I can't say I don't miss Diamond City, but I like it here."
"That's them more than me."
She shrugged. "All the same."
Valentine leaned against a crumbling wall. "You doin anything?"
"... No."
"Good! I want to hear about some of your more recent adventures. We don't get a lot of news up here, so it's time to spill some interesting stories."
I hesitated. Stories? Nothing I've done would be something I consider private, but… telling stories isn't my strong suit.
"Nick, you can be such an ass sometimes." Perkins paused. "Most of the time."
"That's why you love me so much."
"It's why I have to stick around, otherwise you'd end up dead."
The back and forth continued before the two of them settled into the room, and they began their own storytelling session.
I wasn't in the same headspace as I had been in Diamond City, but the feeling was the same. Perkins more so than Valentine, but they both felt so… comfortable around me. Neither missed a beat when I neglected to answer a question, or provide input to the conversation. Being around people as… at ease with me as they were was something I could get used to.
At times, I added my own stories to the fray. I did my best to breeze over the Deathclaw fight; they'd ask enough questions about it, I'd have to do far more talking than I wanted to.
It almost worked.
I didn't tell them about Kleo.
I didn't tell them about what I did afterward.
It wasn't just because I was still irritated with myself over that disaster. Thinking about the incursion, killing the guards I had who, really, were just doing their jobs… it was uncomfortable. Sure I'd left a lot more alive than I otherwise would have, but the guards I killed had nothing to do with the assaultron. I fucked up, and it cost people their lives; lives I took.
Something… different was happening in my head. I'm sure if I went back and thought about it, this wasn't the first time I'd killed people unrelated to my mission objective. The thoughts were strangely conflicting. I couldn't let it impact my combat effectiveness, but at the same time, would I do it again? What were any other people I'd killed mistakenly thinking when I had? Did I have to? Could I have accomplished the mission without doing so?
Questions, once again, began bounding around my head as I thought. And I had no answers.
What's more, what would they think if I told them I stormed in and killed a half dozen innocent people just to get at the damn robot who wasn't even in her shop?
Yeah… that's one I'm not sure I'll be able to bury.
A/N: Managed to fit a little character development huh? This goes back to a concept I heard from a game a very long time ago, but I don't remember what it is. This is just the beginning of the recognition, and if you know where it's going KEEP IT TO YOURSELF. As far as the 'how he got there' part. Those are some very back alley explanations of an Einstein-Rosen Bridge. It's much more complex than that (especially when you add Quantum Mechanics in, that's where Exotic Matter comes from, we don't actually know what that is/if it exists yet either), and I don't understand it all that well, but surprise surprise, the UNSC was experimenting with something weird and it went wrong. Worry not, there's more to discover on that front, but aside from an annoying expo-dump, that's the cleanest way I could think of adding it. As always, I hope you enjoyed, and I'll see you next time!
Next Chapter: September 17th, On the Road (the Railroad That Is)