A/N: Hellooo and welcome to another weekly post of this insane journey. I don't have much to say for this chapter. A lot of what has been and will be happening is dependent on things that were set in motion a while ago. There are a few interesting themes I've been trying to work in as we go as well and I hope I'm doing them justice. Anyway, like I said I don't have much this morning, leave a review if you're so inclined and, as always, enjoy!

Chapter 48: Trying New Things

Deacon, Haylen, and Danse continued talking, mostly Deacon and Haylen while the former Paladin watched. Most of the conversation was the Railroad agent trying to better understand Haylen's situation. When she mentioned her plan about having me 'torture' her to sell the story she was captured, and that's how I knew to look at Listening Post Bravo, Deacon's brow furrowed.

"That's going to an extreme pretty quickly."

The Scribe shrugged. "It's the most believable thing I can come up with. How else can I explain going AWOL, or Damon looking for Danse?"

"Have you ever been tortured before?" Deacon asked, glancing at me. "It isn't pleasant."

"No…" She swallowed. "Don't get me wrong, it isn't like I want to do it or anything. I can't think of another way."

"You're aware they won't just take your word for it, right? They'll question you, maybe even interrogate you themselves. A man like Maxson doesn't survive by being careless."

Deacon lapsed into a thoughtful silence as he studied the small woman. Torturing Haylen for optics sits wrong with me, but she's right; I can't think of another way to get her back into the Brotherhood. If I want any shot of getting Julian back, I need her in the Brotherhood. Who knows, maybe she'd be able to help spread doubt in their ranks, make Danse's job easier.

If he agrees.

The Synth had spent most of the conversation with his eyes glued to the deck between his boots. When he did engage with the other two, it was generally limited to terse statements with as few words as possible.

For our part, Sturges and I had stayed off to the side. This operation isn't my type of mission, and the engineer didn't seem to have any interest in getting involved either. I can't say I'm not getting bored. Outside of providing tactical analysis, I haven't been much use here, and standing around while other people come up with a plan has never been my forte.

If staying here won't be of any use… I turned to Sturges. "I'm going to have Preston send a few guards up here."

He cocked an eyebrow at me. "Where are you goin'?"

"Somewhere more interesting."

"You're part of this planning, right?"

I shook my head. "This type of operation is beyond my scope. Let me know if they need something shot."

Sturges allowed himself a small smirk and nodded.

Exiting the room, I made my way back through the Vault and took the cog-shaped lift to the surface. What I'd told Sturges wasn't strictly true. While the others had been talking, two things were running through my mind: Valentine's interest at a distance of Deacon, and the fact that I haven't had the opportunity to run any recon in almost a week. With the radio out of commission, I have no way of knowing what the Brotherhood, and by extension, the Institute are doing. I don't know if there have been any major engagements, troop movements, or other new developments. In this kind of fight, one where my only support is a small, relatively inexperienced force, I need every bit of information I can get.

Making my way down the path toward Sanctuary, my right side continued aching. Being blown up a few times can do that. Conventional wisdom says I should give my arm and leg a few more days to recuperate, but war never waits for you to recover. If it's going to keep moving, I am too.

First thing's first though; without me there, there's a chance Danse tries something dumb. Deacon is probably a competent fighter, and both he and Sturges have firearms, but everyone will be safer if there's a deterrent to keep everything in check. Plus, if we're going to use Danse as some sort of chess piece, he'll be more useful without functionally superfluous holes.

After asking one of the settlers, I found Preston near the southeast wall, the one I'd used to sneak in during my mock attack. He was inspecting the newly finished barrier that, per my instructions, was almost 15 meters away from the shoreline. It wasn't much space, but it was as much as the defenders had room for. There were a pair of floodlights mounted on top of the three-meter-high steel and wood wall.

"Hey Damon", he called with a wave, "what's up?"

"Sturges and Deacon are up at the bunker. They could use a few guards."

The former Minuteman frowned. "You think there might be trouble?"

"Don't want to find out."

He nodded. "I gotcha. Why aren't you up there anymore?"

"They don't need me at the moment." And there are a few other things I need to do.

"Alright, I'll get MacCready and one of his guys up there."

"Thanks", I said with a nod.

"So what are you gonna do instead?" Preston asked as I turned to leave.

I cocked my head at him.

He shook his. "Oh no, don't give me that. You'd be up there if you didn't have something else you wanna do. If you're planning on 'attacking' Sanctuary again, I'll tell the guards to shoot you on sight."

The man looked serious, but I couldn't tell if he was being sarcastic or not. "I'm more fluent in gunfire than they are."

"Hey, all I'm asking is to be let in on it if you're planning something like that again", he said through a smile. "I've had first-row seats."

Fair enough. "No. There are a few things I need to take care of. I'll be running a scouting mission into the city tonight. I'm leaving in a few hours and probably won't be back until tomorrow afternoon."

"Ah, so you're growing restless up here in our little slice of the Commonwealth."

You could say that.

"Too much going on for me to not be informed." I began back toward the settlement's main road. "I'll let you know before I head out."

Preston snorted behind me. "Thanks for the generosity."

The conversation with Valentine needed to happen first. If he has information on Deacon or the Railroad that might be valuable, I can't wait until tomorrow to learn it.

Finding him wasn't difficult. Both he and Perkins were in their new 'detective agency'. I'm guessing there isn't a huge demand for finding missing persons in a small neighborhood.

Andrew was there too. Considering what had happened over the last few days, I hadn't thought much about the Synth. I still need to figure out what to do with him.

"Damon", the rough-looking Synth greeted me as I ducked into the living room. They had several small lights secured to walls around the interior and patched up most of the holes so sunlight no longer streamed through the walls. "To what do we owe the pleasure of your company? I haven't put out any 'help needed signs'. You do seem pretty good at finding missing people though. Are you trying to put me out of business?"

I shook my head. "I want to know why you're suspicious of the Railroad."

There was a brief moment of silence before Valentine burst into laughter.

Andrew looked back and forth between the two of us, curious. He only knew one side of the operation, Li's people. It makes sense he'd want to learn more about the outside elements.

"That'll never get old, tin can", the detective said through his fits. "Direct and to the point, if only everyone was like that, my job would be so much easier." His laughter died and, even though his face wasn't in the best shape, I could see the discomfort in the frown that took its place. "I wouldn't say I'm suspicious of them, just… Oh, how do I put it?"

"He doesn't agree with everything they do", Perkins said from her desk. She had several folders in front of her. From the brief glimpses I got, it looked like she had or was making profiles for various settlements in the area. "Or rather, he thinks they could do more, especially when it comes to hiding their escapees."

That sounded a lot like what Curie said.

"Care to explain?"

Valentine stood from his desk and paced behind it. "I get why they wipe their memories and hide 'em in the general populace; it makes any gen 3 almost impossible to find and, if they are captured, leaves nothing for the Institute to learn about." The Synth pulled something long and thin from his pocket and began chewing on it. "It gives them a new lease on life. But I don't know if that's all they should be doing for them. With the amount of fear and hate floating around the Commonwealth, anyone new is automatically considered suspicious. For the first little while at least, newly escaped Synths stick out pretty good and if they do, everyone suspects 'em." He stopped his pacing and looked at Perkins. "How many cases did we have over the last few years?"

The smartly dressed (for this hellhole) woman tapped her chin. "Hmmm, we've had at least two dozen in the last year or so. I think most turned out to be false alarms."

"Exactly."

… That led me to another question. "What happened to the ones that weren't?"

"False alarms?" the detective asked. I nodded. "Most would be kicked out, the city's guards didn't hurt the Synths… or at least that's what they said. But… let's say some of 'em turned up beat up, stabbed, or shot and the guards had no clue who it might be."

That isn't anything unique to this place. I've seen it happen plenty in the outer colonies.

"Don't get me wrong here", he continued, "I'm glad they're here, but the Railroad's been around long enough to have expanded their operations."

"I think Nick's being a bit uncharitable", Perkins interjected. She glanced at Andrew who was still studying us with a small frown. His demeanor reminded me of ONI intel officers sitting in on a brief; observant, quietly absorbing every piece of information he could. The difference was it didn't feel like he was filing that info away to use to gut someone at a later date "We know they have helped the ones that get discovered or put in danger. We don't know what they're dealing with. The Institute has a lot of eyes and ears. Plus, with the ability to teleport, they could show up anywhere at any time. That's risky for an organization as small as the Railroad."

Yeah… I know about that one.

At least it seems like the splinter cell is trying to change that. Is there anything I can do to help? It might be something I discuss with Deacon.

"Things will change soon. They have to considering what's happening."

Ellie nodded. "I don't have to be good at analysis to know that." She glanced at Valentine. "I think we just hope that means they'll be able to help more."

Well… none of that warrants concern. Yet. "Thanks for indulging me."

Valentine smirked. "Any time big guy, but if you stop by too often, I'm gonna start charging you time. I know you don't got any money, so you can just pay me back by helping us with jobs."

Uh-huh.

I turned to leave but, before I could go anywhere, Andrew stood. "Hey, Damon, I talked with Preston and Sturges. I know you were going to take me to the Railroad but- I think I want to help out around here."

Okay... "You're free to do what you want. My only objective was to keep you away from the Brotherhood and Institute." He would be a massive help to Sanctuary if he's anywhere near as competent as Sturges. "I don't think anyone here would object to your assistance."

Valentine's scratchy, slightly distorted laugh sounded again. "Told you."

"Yeah- well, I just wanted to be sure."

"I'm not your boss", I replied. "Anything else?"

The Synth shook his head and I marched back out into the late morning sun.

If he was going to help, it may be better spent at other settlements. Sanctuary isn't finished, nowhere close, but unless the others in their network were as well fortified, they'd be in more need of engineering expertise.

That's something I can mention if they don't figure it out themselves.

So the Railroad's limitation is manpower. They've got the organization and the competence. Considering how active the cell is, I doubt I've seen everyone working with them, but it can't be many. If I were to put a number on it, at most they're operating with 100 people. Even with the relatively limited number of inhabitants in the Commonwealth, that's nowhere near enough to do what Curie and Valentine are suggesting.

Maybe that's something I can fix.

That isn't a priority though.

While walking toward the gate, something began bothering me. This situation keeps getting more and more complicated; first, it was the Brotherhood, then Supermutants. Now the Institute is a problem, but they have its own separate faction. Raiders are moving into the area, and on top of all that, there's still the regular populace to deal with.

My feet stopped just inside the wall.

None of my operations ever dealt with this many variables, and never on this scale. I need to reduce this down, or it's going to fall apart.

That means I need time to think, and the best way to do that…

Turning, I marched back toward the settlement's main road. I don't know if it's a great idea to leave in the daylight, but standing around Sanctuary won't do anyone any good.

"Preston", I called when I neared the former Minuteman. He was with a group of settlers to assemble what looked like several more planters. He'd taken his hat and ridiculous jacket off, now wearing a short sleeve shirt.

Preston stood from the wooden box and nodded. "What's up?"

"Change of plans, I'm heading out. I'll be back tomorrow morning."

He frowned. "Okay… Mind-" he shook his head. "Never mind, you'd have told me already. Alright, we have your radio frequency if we get in trouble."

As I left the settlement, a half dozen targets came to mind. I want to get back in the fighting, but I need to recon first. It's been almost a week since I was in the city, and diving back into it just because I'm uncomfortable isn't the right move.

Sneaking across the wasteland in broad daylight isn't ideal. Even with the forests and hills, someone could catch sight of me and, until I'm more than a few klicks away from Sanctuary, that could be a problem. My journey wasn't what was occupying my mind though. What am I supposed to do with this situation? There are too many variables and too many parties pulling in different directions.

The deliberations occupied me until I neared Cambridge. That was my first stop. Since Nate led an attack on the stronghold, probably as retaliation for the Brotherhood's assault on the Institute, they'd changed their security entirely. Half of the posted guards were in T60, while the other half stayed behind raised walls with firing slots not dissimilar to Sanctuary's. They also had foot patrols walking a perimeter around their fortifications. Those five-man teams were also outfitted in power armor. This assault force was starting to look like a more conventional military occupation. Do they have reserve forces they can pull on from the Capital Wastelands?

After an hour of circling the town, staying well clear of the patrols, I didn't see anything that would be cause for alarm. Without having the opportunity to sneak inside the relatively small town, I don't know what changes have happened within, but I'd be willing to bet it's something to help slow down any intruders teleporting in.

While I may not be privy to their comms anymore, as far as I know, they don't know you can block the Institute's Molecular Relay with a sufficiently powerful radio jammer. Their activity seemed normal enough, which probably means the Institute hasn't made any moves in the area recently.

Slipping away from Cambridge, my thoughts drifted back to the problem I was out here to deal with. My next target, a Supermutant camp just north of Boston's crumbling outskirts a half dozen kilometers from here, would take me 45 minutes to reach. I'd have to be careful of the recon forces the Brotherhood had been sending their way, no doubt because they intend to hit it, but other than that, the real threats were in the city.

How do I simplify this scenario? There are four parties at play that could be considered allies: Sanctuary and its network of settlements, the Railroad, Li's group within the Institute (Nate notwithstanding), and these people Haylen is convinced don't like what Maxson is doing.

I ducked beneath a tree's canopy as I heard a Vertibird approach from the west, toward Cambridge. There were no other outposts large enough to support one in that direction, so either it came from Cambridge, or it's a sortie.

Two minutes later, the ungainly-looking VTOL sailed overhead, heading northeast. It was moving in the direction of the Supermutant encampment. Last time I was in this area, there were no Brotherhood forces around there…

When I resumed my march, I increased the pace, swinging further north to avoid any potential Brotherhood forces.

By the time I neared the encampment, the sun was well into its journey toward the western horizon.

And then I figured out why that Vertibird flew in this direction.

Brotherhood soldiers were patrolling the perimeter of the neighborhood. It was about the same size as the West Everett Estates, where I found Cass, Tommy, and Julian a few months ago. This one doesn't have as many Supermutants or didn't because the ones that were here were nothing more than charred bone and ash laying in a pile on the north edge of the town.

That's one thing I don't mind the Brotherhood doing: killing Supermutants. They're pretty damn good at that.

As I circled the south edge of the now Brotherhood-controlled settlement, I noticed the VTOL I'd seen fly overhead sitting in the center of it. Fresh forces were disembarking from the aircraft, most of which were in power armor, and eight waiting to board. So they're rotating people through the encampment, which means they intend to hold onto it.

That bird was a perfect target: stationary, on the ground, rotors spinning, but nowhere near fast enough for takeoff, no-

Crunch.

A footstep sounded to my left, maybe a dozen meters away.

Then another.

Dammit.

There are times I have to remind myself the Brotherhood isn't the same force it was when it arrived. Learning quickly is an infuriating habit of theirs. Not only that, but they're getting better at anticipating what I might do. A few weeks ago, they wouldn't have had forces patrolling temporarily vulnerable positions.

Now…

I slowly, carefully slipped away from the thicket of trees I'd crouched behind for visual cover, scanning the forest around me. No one had mobilized from the base, but that didn't mean there weren't more forces hiding in the forest.

Sloppy. I'd been too focused on my own thoughts and not on what I'm doing. Great way to get found, and I don't need the Brotherhood on my ass right now.

This isn't good. If they've set up concealed observation-

"Primary target", I hear someone whisper from my left, "200 yards southeast of the perim-"

Son of a bitch.

My rifle snapped up and I put a half dozen rounds into the woods. The noise doesn't matter, I need to move.

How the hell did I let myself get caught off guard by such a simple setup?

Sprinting through the woods, I heard the Vertibird's rotors start beating at the air harder and harder. Laser bolts lanced after me from the hidden patrol's position. None of them landed, but they have eyes on me. Now with the VTOL in the air, the forest won't provide good enough visual cover to avoid detection.

That means I have to head for the city. Not what I want to do with the Brotherhood actively attempting to kill me.

Too late now…

My armored boots pounded against the dirt and underbrush as I weaved between trees and rock outcroppings. I'm two klicks from the suburbs and another three from the city proper. With that VTOL tracking me, and more probably to follow, I can't head straight for downtown.

Great job Damon.

As if it knew I was thinking about it, the Vertibird appeared above the canopy over my left shoulder. Dodging through the woods like I was, I'd be a very difficult target to hit, but that chin gun would chew through everything around me, and I know from experience they aren't shy about using it. To make things better, there were door gunners on either side, Brotherhood soldiers in T60 power armor both carrying miniguns.

They want me bad. I almost smiled.

Rounding a large rock outcropping, I slid to a stop, aimed into the sky continuing on my heading, and waited a few heartbeats.

Sure enough, the VTOL came soaring over, still at a low attack angle. My rifle barked and a round slammed into the right door gunner's helmet. As expected, the 7.62mm round wasn't powerful enough to punch through the T60's armor, but it did rock them. Hard. The aircraft banked to begin its turn, and I watched the soldier fall back into the passenger compartment.

Before it had a chance to complete the maneuver, I was running again, this time straight south.

My mind raced as I considered my options. If it takes me too long to get to the city, they'll call in more support, and that's when things really get difficult. From my last count, they usually keep three Vertibirds at Cambridge. Without hardware to take the Vertibirds themselves out, that's a losing fight.

Vaulting a rock, I dropped into a small ravine and rolled to maintain momentum. I heard the VTOL complete its turn and its turbines whine to full throttle as I scrambled up the other side.

If the birds are on standby, that's five minutes to get them airborne, another two or three to get to my position, and maybe one more to set up a formation. That means at most I have nine minutes before things get bad.

So nine minutes to cross almost five klicks, through forest and suburbs, dodging the one already hounding me.

Trees and bushes exploded around me and an instant later, the buzz of a minigun cut through the rapid thumping of the rotors and whine of the turbine. I continued sprinting through the hail of gunfire. They know they probably won't kill me with that, but if they're starting with it instead of the chin gun, that probably means the pilot is more focused on slowing me down. That can't happen.

Half a dozen rounds slammed into my back and left leg, dropping my shields by a quarter and sending me stumbling into a tree. My right shoulder bounced off of it, the still injured joint flaring in protest, but I grit my teeth and resumed my race toward the city.

Every time I reached a small clearing, the miniguns would spin back up and rain bullets down around me. The gunfire wasn't accurate, but that clearly wasn't what they were going for.

Soon enough, they'd figure out that isn't going to work, then one of two things would happen. Either they'd switch to the chin gun, which would limit their maneuverability to direct approaches, or bring out a larger caliber weapon for more accurate shots. Neither of those things was appealing, but these guys aren't dumb enough to keep doing the same thing.

That means I have to change it up first.

Dropping to the ground, I slid under a large, exposed root and regained my footing just in time to see another break in the canopy ahead. Upping my pace as fast as I dared in the tight confines of the forest, I tried to get a little extra distance between myself and the VTOL.

An instant later, I burst into the small clearing, leaping over a group of boulders directly in my path, and made for the opposite end a dozen meters away. Just before I reached the trees, I dropped into a slide again, twisting as I came to a stop and aimed my rifle at the top of the trees.

My gunsights came up just as the Vertibird emerged over them.

Flying straight at me.

So they went with option one.

My finger squeezed the trigger and the MK-18 sent a high-velocity round crashing into the aircraft's canopy. Just like with the T60 armor, it didn't have the punch to dig through the thick reinforced glass.

The rifle barked twice more, both slamming into the now splintered surface before the Vertibird's chin gun spat a salvo at me.

Turns out my change of tact was a good call. Without the ability to see clearly through the damaged canopy, the first trio of rounds missed high, and the pilot pulled out of the strafe before letting off any more from its primary weapon.

I don't know how many more of these it would take to break through, but I don't want to find out, not with the clock ticking.

Again, I found myself wishing I had the McMillan or rocket launcher.

No point in worrying about it now.

Before the Vertibird cleared the break in the forest, I was up and running again, legs pumping, left burning from the explosion the night before. Sometimes I have to wonder if I should be doing some of the things I do.

Again, no point in worrying about it now.

With less than half a click to go to reach the suburbs and- I checked my HUD for the time- five minutes left, I'm making good time. On top of that, the near-shattered canopy would probably give the pilot second thoughts about trying something like that strafe again. They'll go with option two now since it keeps the pilot out of danger.

And they'd be smart to wait until they have support.

With that in mind, I again increased my pace as the forest began thinning. With the already poor cover dissipating, getting to the-

Minigun fire ripped through the trees again. This time though, it was wild, the spread much larger than it had been. Risking a glance up from the obstacles in front of me, I caught sight of the Vertibird a hundred or so meters off the top of the trees, hovering at the forest's edge. Its cockpit was facing away from me.

So I was only half right.

A handful of seconds later, I was at the tree line, crossing a narrow road that ran south into the suburbs. The Vertibird hadn't moved from its position, almost hovering directly over me now. It was a target almost too good to pass up, but I don't have the time, nor the right weapon to take advantage of that, and they know it.

Even so… why wouldn't they take a position better suited to keep me-

Oh shit.

As I shot across another street toward a small row of half-collapsed, burned-out houses, I heard another set of pounding rotors, just beneath the ones above me. They were coming from directly ahead, toward the city. They'd scrambled at least one VTOL from somewhere else in the city, closer than Cambridge, or maybe already on a sortie. The reason the first Vertibird had positioned itself there was to mask the sound of their approach.

Clever mfers.

I'd just reached the row of crumbling buildings when the newcomer emerged over the city's dilapidated skyline, a klick or so distant.

It didn't wait to close the distance. As soon as we were in sight of each other, the large caliber gun on it opened up. A kilometer isn't a short distance to shoot a handheld weapon, even for a SPARTAN, especially on the move. For a hard-mounted, high-power gun like the one on the Vertibird? It was target practice.

The house in front of me disintegrated under the barrage of projectiles and I dove to the side to avoid the worst of the shrapnel.

When I came down on my right arm, rolling to keep myself from becoming a stationary target, pain speared through my chest once again.

No time. Keep moving.

That's when the first gunship still over me decided to join the fight again. Its door gunner opened up and sprayed the area with more small rounds, a few catching me as I sprinted perpendicular to the new Vertibird to throw off the pilot's aim.

There was no time to worry about the minigun though, I'm still on the clock against reinforcements, and I have another kilometer and a half to cover.

Shooting out the pilot's vision turned out to be a much better idea than I'd thought. If I hadn't I'd be dealing with two chin guns right now instead of one and a minigun.

A few seconds later, the undamaged VTOL roared overhead and I turned south once again, sprinting through the ravaged suburb at full tilt. I felt my armored boots slam into the already crumbling asphalt hard enough to send cracks running through it, and I shot forward fast enough the gunners would have difficulty tracking me.

Speed is one of a SPARTAN's best weapons and best defenses.

The obstacles in front of me, cars, rubble, the occasional collapsed building, I didn't let them slow me down. If I couldn't go around it, I vaulted it. I'd made it almost halfway to the edge of the city proper before the still active VTOL came back for a second pass.

This time to my back.

Asphalt and houses began exploding around me before one round caught me square in the back as I circled around a burned-out truck. The impact sent me scrambling for footing and did as much to my shields as the half dozen minigun rounds.

By the time I'd resumed my sprint, another round caught me in the left hip, and this time I couldn't stop myself from going down.

My body twisted with the force of the impact and my momentum turned into an uncontrolled tumble. I hit the ground, hard, and continued bouncing and flipping, my surroundings a blur-

Until I crashed into a rusted hulk that had once been a car hard enough to cave in the front right quarter panel. The impact was hard enough to drive the car into the house it had been parked beside with a metallic screech.

The sound of the Vertibird roaring overhead pierced the haze that had fallen over the world, my entire body aching again.

Keep going. Move or die.

Pushing my hands into the broken concrete driveway, I got to my hands and knees, then unsteadily to my feet. I was- I was still heading in the right direction, the taller buildings of the city looming ahead of me, maybe half a klick away.

I turned to find the damaged Vertibird bearing down on me. I'm in no shape to get into a shootout with that thing.

Half limping on my left leg, I made for the corner of the house and threw myself behind it just as the aircraft's gun opened fire. I didn't see what happened to the car, but I can imagine it's in pieces now.

City.

Right.

Climbing unsteadily to my feet once more, I ran, or sort of ran, as fast as I could through the next row of houses. I don't know where the other bird is, but I can't afford to stick around and find out.

With the two (at least) aircraft now hunting me, I began weaving between houses, making myself as small a target as possible. It took a good 30 seconds for the world to stop spinning, but that didn't help my arms, which were now both on fire, or my left leg. I wanted to berate myself for carelessness, but I could do that after I get away from the people that want to kill me.

It was another three minutes of sprinting down alleys, cutting across sidestreets, and barging through collapsed buildings, with a few unexpected Feral Ghouls along the way before I made it to the city. More than once, the Vertibirds found and strafed my position, but nothing serious, not like that second run. It wasn't until I was a few hundred meters into the taller buildings, mostly apartments, that I heard more VTOLs arrive. Looks like my estimate was a little off, thankfully in the right direction.

Just because I would be harder to find now didn't mean they'd give up though. The last time this happened, I think about three weeks ago now, they didn't stop searching until nightfall. That's because the first time they chased me, I had a few surprises ready for their advanced teams after dark.

That was still several hours away.

I wracked my still slightly rattled brain for the location of the nearest safe house. It was… close to the river, not too far away, maybe half a klick. This one's near the bottom floor of a bombed-out office building if my mind is working correctly. Good cover, several traps, and plenty of routes for escape, including the river.

No heavy weapons though.

It would have to do. I need to make it there before they land ground forces to start searching for me, provided they don't have any in the area already.

My armored boots continued pounding on the asphalt as I made myself as scarce as possible: cutting through buildings, finding as many alleys shrouded in shadow as I could, and listening for any potential threats in the area. Twice more I came across Feral Ghouls which weren't a problem since they don't use guns. A few seconds of cracking skulls and shattering bones was enough to deal with them. Once, I had to hide and wait for a group of Supermutants who seemed to be confused about the multitude of pounding rotors and shooting to pass. Hopefully, they'd find the Brotherhood and slow them down a bit.

And hopefully, they'd find the Brotherhood so they would get torn to shreds.

10 agonizing minutes later, I found myself creeping into the small tower. I don't know how tall it had been before bombs and a few hundred years of wind erosion had collapsed its upper floors into the sickly green water below, but now it's five and a half stories. My 'safe house' was a large office on the second floor facing the river. Surrounded by other buildings that looked markedly similar, it was a decent enough spot to lay low.

The groan that forced itself through my teeth as I lowered myself into a sitting position once inside wasn't good news. My arms were doing better, but my left leg was aching now. The pain started just above the knee and ran up to my hip flexor. It felt like I strained my quad. Bad. Well, the two explosions, slamming into the car, then sprinting across the Commonwealth strained it.

As much as I wanted to remain prepared, I needed food and water after the afternoon's festivities. While I took care of that, my mind drifted back to what started that chase in the first place: what the hell am I going to do to make this work?

There's no way I'll be able to split time between every group here. If today has told me anything, it's the Brotherhood has too many resources to throw at me for that to be a viable option. That's to say nothing of the Institute, which will be even more dangerous considering they can teleport. Sanctuary will have to deal with increasing threats from the Brotherhood and eventually, the Gunners will find them. The Railroad is being hunted by the Institute, with Brotherhood infiltrators screwing with the splinter cell's program, and then there's the Raiders which are, apparently, interested in the Commonwealth now.

Goddammit.

Finishing off the bottle of water, and the MRE mostly eaten, I slipped my helmet back on and checked my armor. It wasn't any more damaged than it had been before this all started. The shields hadn't gone down, so that's at least some good news. My weapons were-

Well the MK18 was intact. All that was left of the HK-33 was the upper receiver, which had been mangled, probably by my impact with the car. That wouldn't be any use.

After taking the time to double-check the small anti-personnel charges I'd wired through the building were primed and active, I settled back in the office and waited for night to fall.

"Too many variables", I whispered.

All of those problems didn't take the deficiencies of each group into account either. I don't know if Haylen will be successful pulling any of the Brotherhood soldiers away, Sanctuary, while better equipped than most, was still small and relatively inexperienced, the Railroad has the experience but is too small, and Li's people are, for now, isolated. The supplies they'll be delivering to the settlement will be incredibly useful, but that only gets them so far. What they need-

Oh… How did I not think of that earlier?

What they need is to fix those weaknesses. I don't know about the potential Brotherhood defectors, but between the Railroad, Sanctuary, and Li's people, they can fill in most of the holes each party has on its own. Between Sanctuary and the rest of their network, Preston said they have around 500 people. That isn't a lot, but it's a start. With the technology and know-how, the Railroad and Li's splinter group brought to the table, that would fix a lot of problems.

We'd still need more people though and with the Brotherhood expanding to cover more ground how would we get that?

And that also involves the Railroad working with me. Yes, Deacon is already doing that, but I get the sense he's an outlier.

This can't continue to be a hold-up. I screwed up, get over it. I'm trying to fix it.

The images of Cass and Tommy's faces flashed through my mind as Glory pulled them away. They were both so… resigned. There was no fight in either of them, I was just another person who was supposed to take care of them who had failed, who was gone.

It doesn't have to stay like that. I can fix this. I'm taking Deacon back to the Railroad after he's done with Haylen and Danse anyway. Apologizing won't mean much, but it's a start, right?

I nodded to myself. It's a start.

X

As afternoon dragged on into evening, and then evening into night, I found myself pacing the second-floor office. Light filtering through the various holes in the ceiling and walls cast an orange glow over everything. Over the hours, I heard Vertibirds continue searching the city for me, but there was so much to search, and one person leaves such a small footprint, it was essentially hopeless. They knew that.

The more I thought about finding some way to unite the different parties under one banner, the more it made sense. It reduces the number of variables and bolsters each group. It also means I don't have to do as much work training Preston and his people, which is time I can spend in the field doing what makes me valuable.

It also gives me more options for getting to Julian.

Now though, I was torn. Do I head back to Sanctuary and talk this through with them, or do I stay out here and finish my recon? There were still several places I want to check: the Brotherhood warehouse Nate's forces had hit a week ago, a few smaller settlements in the city the Brotherhood had been 'working with', and one, large, Supermutant group set up in a relatively intact tower in the middle of Boston, not too far away from Diamond City.

Staying in the area longer though… That would mean risking being found by the Brotherhood again, while their forces are active.

A mistake like that… It's been a long time since I allowed myself to be distracted by my own thoughts during an operation. That's how you end up dead.

No, the Brotherhood forces would be on high alert and, if I'm being honest, getting this started is far more important. Yes, I'll be out of the loop on what's happening in the city, but that won't matter if I manage to establish a force that can genuinely support. It will be smaller than the forces Maxson and Shaun can field, but it will have the clandestine expertise of the Railroad behind it.

And it will have me.

The thought of building my own fighting force from pieces made me smile. It was exciting in an entirely new way.

There's already the perfect group established for it too: The Minutemen. I don't know much about the group, but it seems as though they were an attempt at forming a local militia/police force. I may be speaking out of turn, considering my experience, but that seems like a phenomenal way to galvanize people. Yes, if it works, the new forces coming in will be green as grass, but not all of them need to be fighters. Hell, most of them don't need to be fighters. We just need enough people to handle the essential support roles, like supplies and logistics, to give anyone who wants to and can fight the ability to. I don't need them to be an elite force, I just need them to be good enough to give me more breathing room. I can take care of the rest.

Eliminating people like Maxson… That's one of the things I enjoy most about what I do. The only ones I think I'll like more are the Supermutants and Raiders.

The Institute though, that one's going to be more complicated. Not only because the target will be harder but… I still have no clue what to think about the situation. Nate, I don't trust he's doing anything besides helping Shaun. Yes, there's plenty of evidence to suggest he isn't, but I thought that before he tried to kill me.

One step at a time. I need to get back to Sanctuary and talk this through with Deacon and Preston.

It didn't seem like that partnership would be a hard sell. They're already helping them out with supplies…

Which, according to Deacon, was Nate's doing…

What's that aggravating bastard up to with this?

Not knowing makes me nervous. The ex-soldier is a lot better at playing underhanded games than I am.

I'll have to figure that out as information comes, but so long as the equipment stays clean, that's fine by me.

Looking out through the crumbling walls toward the river, I couldn't help but admire the colors reflecting off of the water from the pink and orange sky above. If I didn't know better, I wouldn't think there was anything wrong with the shimmering, writing body as the image of the setting sun danced across its surface. There are certainly times I've gotten to enjoy views like this in the past, but none of them have been on Earth, even if it is a destroyed version of it.

It was almost time to leave. The Brotherhood would be starting their pullback soon.

My arms and left leg were still stiff, but they weren't burning anymore. Hopefully, I'll have the night to recover. They aren't the worst strains I've had, or fought on, but I don't have a medical suite to go back to if I tear something. That type of injury would heal eventually, but the amount of time I'd be compromised was unacceptable.

As I descended toward the tower's ground floor, I was careful to avoid my traps as well as the rubble and debris scattered around the crumbling building. The last thing I need now is to make noise at the risk of a scouting party being nearby.

A few moments later, I was standing just inside the shadow cast by the tower's entrance. The street beyond was clear, and the pounding of Vertibird rotors was distant. That didn't necessarily mean-

Gunfire erupted to my south, further into the city. This wasn't the usual distant fight. The reports couldn't have been more than a half-klick away. Judging by the sounds, it was conventional and laser weapons fire. That meant the Brotherhood was involved. Who else would be attacking them? The Supermutants? It's possible, they had small bands meandering around the city.

Get out of the city. I've had an interesting enough day, I don't need to make it worse.

That was probably the right decision, but it felt like this trip, and the disaster it turned into, was worthless at this point. All I've gotten out of it is a few more injuries. Maybe the gunfight is nothing, or maybe I can get something valuable out of it.

This is a bad idea…

I ignored the warnings and alarms going off in the back of my head as I slipped out into the street and started south toward the battle. From the sounds of it, the exchange was smaller, which means it's probably one of the Brotherhood patrols out searching for me. Whoever they were engaged with didn't have much firepower either.

It didn't take long for the sun to hit the western horizon, already hidden behind the corpse of a city around me, and turn the streets into a melody of deep shadows cast by buildings punctuated by strips of light. The contrast made moving easier, so long as I stuck to the darker areas.

The journey didn't take long. Whatever the ongoing battle was, it was happening in an intersection surrounded by relatively intact, squat buildings and stores. I took cover in a small bodega, or what used to be one, 50 meters from the intersection. I would have liked a better vantage point but I'm not about to risk being spotted again, not after earlier today.

My position didn't matter much though. The fighting was practically over. As I watched, the Brotherhood soldiers put down the last few remaining combatants-

Who were Gunners.

What the hell? Neither party had any love lost for each other, but short of the Institute and Brotherhood (and Raiders soon enough), the Gunners are the largest fighting force in the area. They tried to stay away from Brotherhood-controlled areas and vice versa. On more than one occasion, I'd seen their forces part without firing a shot. Why would they get in a fight like this in the middle of the city?

"Clear!" a woman shouted, the voice coming through the filtered speakers of a T60 helmet.

"Clear!" came several replies.

"Secure the perimeter", the first voice ordered. "Exfil is in five."

So a Vertibird was coming in to pick them up. That meant they really didn't want to be in the city after dark.

The thought almost put a smile on my face. While the Supermutants were part of that, I couldn't help but find satisfaction my efforts to disrupt their patrols and supply routes worried them enough to pull out at night.

It was hard to get a count on exactly how many were in the intersection with the shifting light. The best count I could get was 21, 15 of them in power armor. That was at least two squads, maybe more if they took casualties. I'd be lying if I said the temptation wasn't there, but if they had air support coming in, I don't want to risk getting tracked again.

"Carver!"

I watched as an armored figure stood off toward the southeast corner of the intersection. Another Brotherhood member, this one out of power armor, ran up and saluted.

Newbie. Thanks for telling me who your CO is dumbass.

"Put your damn hand down Initiate!"

There was no way of making out facial expressions at this distance, and they were faced away from me, but I did watch the Initiate tremble as their arm snapped to their side.

"Apologies Knight-Captain", an equally shaky voice said.

A brief silence followed, where I could almost imagine the holes the commanding officer's eyes were drilling into the Initiate.

"Please", the armored woman said in an appropriately gravelly and still loud voice any DI would have been proud of, "explain to me why you decided to take Initiates Barkley and Heins to scout this area."

"B- because I knew this was one of the sectors we still haven't searched, and we- we were supposed to extract soon."

Another short pause. Whoever the CO is, it seems like she was used to dealing with new trainees.

"So then tell me", she said voice still slow, like she was explaining something to a small child, "what would you have done if you encountered the target."

"Uh- excuse me si- ma'am?"

I almost winced in sympathy. I'd made that mistake once with Katrina, and only once.

Even though I couldn't see her face, I still felt the glare boring into the kid I was starting to feel bad for. He was only making things worse for himself.

"Did you intend to alert us to his former position with your corpses, Initiate?"

"N- no. I- uh- we-"

"Because that's all you would have done", she barked, interrupting his response. "But no, instead you have to do something worse. You get captured by Gunners and I have to track you down and bail your goddamn ass out of the fire. Two people got hit because of your recklessness, Carver. Jones is in critical condition, and the only reason he's alive is those Gunners are just as dogshit at shooting as you are."

The pounding of rotors approached from the north and, a few seconds later, dust and debris began swirling as a pair of Vertibirds descended into the intersection.

With the added noise, there was no way I was making out the rest of the conversation, but I didn't need to. Even if it was a seemingly innocuous encounter, this told me a lot about their current conditions. They're deploying Initiates on missions to search for me. That means their primary forces are being dedicated to offensive operations, which I still need more intel on, and defending supply lines. If they think those are more critical than hunting me, they're up to something.

Then there are the Gunners. It's no surprise, on the surface, they'd take any opportunity they got to capture Brotherhood forces. They're no better than Raiders, and if they could get away with it, they'd take them for any information they could get.

But they've also been working with the Brotherhood, in some cases. I've seen them, more than a few times, sell (supposed) captured Synths, as well as trade for weapons and supplies from them. Why would they risk destroying that relationship for three Initiates? It isn't like greenies would know enough about Brotherhood operations to hurt them, and I seriously doubt Maxson would allow for any bargaining to retrieve them.

That means it isn't just the Brotherhood that's up to something, the Gunners are too.

Great. Two major players in the area making moves and I have no idea what. Should I put off returning to Sanctuary to chase this down? No… that could take too long, and getting everyone operating under one roof is too important to postpone. Besides, if I can get the Railroad to put more assets in the field, they may be able to help me track down exactly what's going on.

As much as I hate waiting, here I am again. Direct action has been pounded into me since I was five. This type of subterfuge isn't my style.

Like I said though, my normal way of doing things has only gotten me into more trouble over the past few months…

Two minutes later, the Vertibirds were climbing back into the air, taking their cargo, including an extremely screwed Initiate, to the northeast. So this was a deployment from the airport… That's also an interesting piece of information. It not only confirms they're deploying fresh trainees, they're deploying combatants straight out of their version of basic. Tracking me down has been an extremely high-risk mission for them. To use that type of 'fill in' soldier…

Uncertainty clawed at my gut. Why would they dedicate their more experienced people elsewhere? The only explanation is they didn't consider finding me a high priority at the moment. I'd be insulted if I wasn't intrigued by the possibilities.

I waited until the beat of the rotors had faded far into the distance until the sun had dropped all the way below the horizon, and darkness wrapped itself so thoroughly around the city, it was almost impossible to see clearly without activating my NVS. Once 45 minutes ticked off my HUD's clock, I slipped out of the small shop and toward the former battleground.

There were about two dozen Gunners scattered around the intersection. Eight of them were in the center, while the rest were in various spots around it and just outside of the crumbling buildings on the south side.

The Brotherhood caught them in an ambush.

Searching the bodies, I didn't find anything besides the oversized, blocky radios they used on one of them. There was nothing to suggest them being here was anything more than chance. But that was one hell of a coincidence. They couldn't have known I was in the area… Unless they followed the sounds of the Brotherhood Vertibirds chasing me. If the Gunners were looking for an opportunity to scavenge something, or someone, hearing that kind of fight would be like ringing the dinner bell. If that's the case, and they wanted to capitalize on the Brotherhood's aggression, that means they're breaking off their pseudo ceasefire. Or they're trying to go behind their backs.

Both possibilities are interesting, but not any new information.

After going through each of the bodies, I collected an extra high-powered bolt action rifle and a few hundred rounds of assorted ammunition. The bolt action wasn't as powerful as my MK18, but at least I could conserve ammo on my return trip. If it was necessary. And these supplies are more for Sanctuary than myself. Even if Li's people are going to start supplying us with high-quality guns, there's no such thing as having too many in a situation like this.

Several of the Gunners were carrying basic medical supplies: disinfectant, bandages, and a few Stimpaks. Five minutes after I began my search, I slipped away from the skirmish site, a new satchel full of supplies slung over my shoulder.

Now comes the fun part: making my way back across the Commonwealth with an extra gun and two bags full of supplies. Without being caught again. With two bad arms and a bad leg.

I've had worse. Stop complaining and get moving.

Without knowing exactly how the Brotherhood would react to losing me again, I headed northwest, away from the bulk of their forces. It meant I'd have to travel through a lot more city, and risk running into Supermutants or any of the still numerous Raider gangs in the area, but neither of them has air support or squad tactics.

The crumbling buildings and rubble, as usual, made moving through the city quietly a pain in the ass, but it worked both ways. Since I wasn't looking for another fight, especially since that would probably attract attention. So when I heard boots crunching over broken glass a street away, I backtracked and stole down an alley to avoid whoever was coming my way.

The same thing happened a few minutes later, but this time accompanied by voices. They weren't the nasally, barely coherent warbling I usually heard from Supermutants, but that didn't mean they wouldn't still shoot me.

Over the next hour and a half, I avoided a dozen encounters, slipping through buildings, down alleys, and at one point, scaling a tower. My arms didn't appreciate that, but I'd probably appreciate getting blown up again even less. Even with the slow, plodding pace, the last few days had me a little less anxious to move quickly. I don't need to get involved in anything serious again, not until my current injuries healed.

Eventually, I made it out of the city, past the suburbs and into the relatively sparse wilderness beyond.

While the recon mission hadn't provided me with the information I intended, at the very least, I have a few leads to chase down.

And I know how I'm going to approach Preston. We can't keep operating as separate forces. If this is going to work, we need as many people working under one banner as we can get.

As I made my way through the forest, I was careful to stick to good visual cover, even if that meant detouring. It may be overkill, but there's no point in taking unnecessary risks. I already did that once today and it got me shot. A lot.

In a way, I found it amusing I'd be the one to suggest this. The person who was practically forced to integrate into SPARTAN OPS. Now I'm going to attempt to convince Preston to bring the Minutemen back and pull the Railroad and Li's people under its umbrella. I don't have much confidence in Haylen's idea that she can strip people away from the Brotherhood, but at the very least, I need her to get Julian back.

The night passed peacefully as I stalked across the Commonwealth. By the time I made it back to Sanctuary, it was almost 0100.

For the first time, I felt genuine relief as I climbed onto the road leading toward the small settlement. My entire body was aching, aside from my left leg which was on fire. It was almost shaking with strain, and it will be stiff tomorrow.

Really looking forward to that.

While approaching the front gate, I studied the walls, looking for telltale signs of the watch positions hidden in the fortification. They'd done a fantastic job concealing them. There were five facing the front of the settlement and, even though I know where each of them are, I only picked out one, given away by the barrel of a goddamn rifle sticking through it.

That's a stop I'm going to make before getting some shuteye.

When the cobbled-together steel door swung open, Brenda was standing behind it with another two guards. I didn't know either of their names.

After ushering me through and securing the door, the woman turned to me, eyebrow raised. "Preston said you wouldn't be back until morning."

I shrugged. "Plans changed. Who's posted at the western firing slot?"

Brenda's eyes narrowed. "Phillips. Why?"

"He's trying to get someone killed."

Without waiting for a reply, I marched around the trio of settlers toward the guard post. They followed along behind me, I couldn't tell if they were afraid or curious.

Inside, the guard, Phillips, was sitting on a stool, rifle propped up on the edge of the firing slot.

He looked bored.

The asshole looked bored.

"What the hell are you doing?" I hissed.

Inattentive guards are how bases get invaded and people get shot. I've taken advantage of my fair share of bad watchmen, too many to let this shit slide. Especially since it's a matter of when someone comes calling, not if, and we currently have four HVTs in the area.

"Wh-" the heavily muscled man shot to his feet. "What are you talking about?"

I turned to Brenda. "You have someone to take his post?"

She looked bewildered but nodded. "Yeah… we can-"

"Wait", Phillips barked, "I'm not-"

"Keep your voice down", I snapped, rounding on him. "You aren't on watch to sleep with your eyes open. I'm not gonna have you get someone killed."

"I'm here trying to protect people."

"By giving your position away and not paying attention?" To say I wasn't in the mood to argue with this guy was an understatement. I don't trust he's going to suddenly correct bad habits, especially given his response. "Take it up with Preston in the morning."

Even in the darkness, I watched as his face turned cherry red. "Like hell, you aren't taking one of this place's best off of night watch."

There's a lot more work than I thought if this is one of Sanctuary's best. The more this guy talked, the more convinced I was he didn't belong anywhere near a defense effort.

I snorted. "One of the best." To say it had been a long day and I needed some sleep would be an understatement. "Brenda, have someone relieve him."

As I began to turn away, he grabbed my left shoulder. "I'm not-"

The pain was irritating, but what tripped my temper was that this asshole had the balls to not only argue he wasn't in the wrong but think he was in any position to demand anything. I'm not their commanding officer, but Preston wanted my help defending Sanctuary. They all know that, including this guy. They think because they've run off a few Raiders they're ready for a war. Maybe my demonstration the other night wasn't pointed enough.

Even so, the last thing I need is to put this guy in whatever their version of a hospital is. Pulling away from him, I continued back out of the house.

"Clay", I heard Brenda mutter from behind me, "stay here, I'll figure this out."

A pair of footsteps followed me into the night.

"Damon, what was that about?" the woman asked as she drew beside me.

"Your man is a liability. Liabilities get people killed."

"Yes but-"

I stopped. "If I'm going to help, you need to follow orders. If there's an issue, bring it to Preston in the morning. For now, I need sleep."

Her brow furrowed and she opened her mouth to respond but didn't. Instead, she rolled her eyes and waved at the other man who had followed me. They both marched back toward the front gate, leaving me to deposit the scavenged supplies in the armory. The house was empty other than the weapons… seemed like a good enough place to get a few hours in.

Throbbing leg and aching arms aside, I felt pretty good all things considered. My recon didn't go anything like I intended, but I still gathered important info and new targets to scout.

And hopefully a path forward.

X

"From the sounds of it, you need to work on your people skills", Preston muttered as he stopped in front of me. I was walking toward the bridge, intending to check on our local Brotherhood contingent when he found me. "Not that it's news to anyone."

"Your guard?"

The former Minuteman's brow furrowed. "Your guard too if you mean to help us."

If I mean to help you? I wouldn't still be here if I didn't. "I do."

"Then you need to start thinking like that. This is a community, and if you're here to help, that includes you."

I blinked. The bluntness is nice, but me a part of their community? Maybe the people here who have known me since the beginning can stomach that, but it's hard to miss the glances people still occasionally send my way. And thinking of myself as part of their community? How's that supposed to work? I'm not a farmer or an engineer. I'm a fighter and, to do that, I'm going to spend most of my time in the Commonwealth, not here.

"Whatever", the dark-skinned man said through a deep exhale. "You didn't leave a good taste in anyone's mouth last night."

So? Pissing people off isn't as bad as someone getting dead. I cocked my head at him. "Phillips wasn't doing his job."

"How so?"

"He had his rifle propped on the firing slot, exposing the barrel to anyone who happened to look, and was about as attentive as a dead person."

Preston frowned. "Yeah… that isn't a surprise."

This is something that's been happening? And they've let it continue? That isn't going to cut it.

"Anyone who can't do the job right isn't going to do it", I said. "Not if you want to survive this."

What I said wasn't anything special, and the former Minuteman seemed to get that.

Preston nodded. "I gotcha just…" he offered a small smile. "Can you let me handle it next time? It would make my life a whole lot easier."

Would I let him handle it? "As long as it isn't an immediate issue."

"Good enough."

"We need to talk about something else", I said as he began to leave.

"Oh?"

I nodded. "You need to reform the Minutemen."

He hesitated, staring at me as though I'd just hit him.

"I need to restart the Minutemen? Why?" Preston's voice was plodding, and the tension in his shoulders and neck were stark and severe, even beneath his jacket.

"Why does that make you nervous?"

"It- I just…" he trailed off, eyes falling to the ground between his feet. "The Minutemen failed, Damon. I'm, well I was the last one left. We lost the Castle, we lost at Quincy, and now… Who's supposed to trust the Minutemen can keep them safe after what happened to us?"

The Castle? I have no clue what that is or was, but it doesn't matter. "How were the Minutemen destroyed?"

That must have been the wrong question because, even with his face cast downwards, I could see the pain twist his mouth into a grimace.

"Infighting after our last General, Joe Becker, died in '82." He looked back up at me, a trace of defiance in his eyes. "But we still fought to keep the Commonwealth safe. Good men and women still responded to calls for help, even if the higher-ups didn't do anything for us. It was- it was the Quincy Massacre that really ended it." He smiled. It was more sickly than anything. "Funny, bet if I'd met you two weeks before I did none of that woulda happened."

When I found Preston and his people a few months ago, they'd been on the run from Raiders. They'd said something about Quincy, but no one ever explained what happened. Judging from his demeanor, the former Minuteman probably didn't want to talk about it.

"Do you know if there are any other former Minutemen around?"

The shrug that drifted across his shoulders was half-assed. "Yeah, a few. I know there are at least four in the settlements we're working with, but I doubt they're interested in starting it back up." He squinted at me. "You still haven't told me why you want to do this all of a sudden."

"There are too many variables for this to work. If we're going to work with the Railroad and the Institute, it needs to be under one chain of command. The Railroad is clandestine and can't take lead, Dr. Li's group even more. It has to be… us."

The former Minuteman smiled. Apparently he liked my use of the word 'us'. "That makes sense. Like I said, it's infighting that broke up the Minutemen the first time around. Plus, if we can get more cooperation from the Railroad, they'd be a big help. And Dr. Li's group?"

Oh… right, he doesn't know who Li is. "She's a former Brotherhood scientist working with the Institute and is leading the splinter cell smuggling Synths."

"Got it." Preston closed his eyes and took a deep breath. When he opened them again, they weren't determined, but they were at least focused. "Okay. Okay… I don't know. I get why you're asking it, but I can't be the Minuteman general." He shook his head. "I was the only one to escape Quincy and most of the people I brought with me died. If you hadn't shown up…"

This is something he's going to have to get used to since he wants to be involved in this war. "You're the only option. I'm not doing it. You're already de facto leader of Sanctuary and the network you've begun establishing."

"You aren't doing-" he blinked. "Does that mean you're gonna help?"

"Yes", I said, nodding. I have to if it's going to work.

Preston paused again, studying me as though he'd never seen me before. "Oh… okay. I guess that makes things a bit better." He frowned. "Can I have a minute to think about it?"

The answer seemed pretty obvious to me, but Preston isn't me. Besides, this was a hard experience for him, I can understand how that might make the decision difficult.

"Yeah."

The former Minuteman smiled. "Thanks."

Sensing the conversation was over, I nodded and began toward the bridge again. I'd intended to help re-establish the Minutemen since it was my idea, and they don't currently have the manpower or support to succeed without it. He was asking for more than that though; he wants me to consider myself part of their community. It was an interesting idea…

But is it necessary? I don't know.

While I hadn't asked, I got the feeling Deacon and Sturges would still be in the Vault with Haylen and Danse. It was no surprise when I got to the makeshift holding cell and the four of them were there, talking.

"Good morning!" the Railroad agent greeted me. "I was told you wouldn't be back yet."

"Things changed."

He cocked an eyebrow from behind his ever-present sunglasses. "Such as?"

"It's a long story." Talking about another fight with the Brotherhood now wasn't the best idea.

"Huh. Alright then." Deacon turned back to the former Brotherhood members. "I think we've agreed on the plan."

It wasn't until his eyes settled on Haylen I realized the Scribe was sitting on the edge of her bed, hands clasped on her knees so tight her knuckles were white. The way her stare drilled into me, and how hard her jaw was set, I didn't have to be a genius to guess what that meant.

"You want me to torture you."

The nod I got in return was as stiff as the rest of the small woman.

Hurting someone to the point they want it to stop, more than anything, is easy. The key to torture isn't physical though, it's mental. That's why I usually like taking more than one prisoner; what's worse than someone torturing you? Watching someone else get tortured while knowing that's waiting for you. I'm certainly no expert, but I'm no stranger to the practice.

This isn't that. I'm not trying to get any information from Haylen; this is for show. How do I do that? How do I know where to press? How do I know when to stop? Should I be the one to do it? Is-

"Thanks", Haylen said, pulling me from my thoughts. Her voice was tight too. She was a lot more nervous about this than she had been a few days ago. I wouldn't be surprised if Deacon walked her through what it might look like.

"What?"

"For having to think about it." She smiled or at least tried to.

Did she think I wouldn't?

Well, she did see what I did to the Raiders. And I'm sure the Brotherhood has plenty of stories circulating about me. "I… haven't done anything like this before."

Deacon shrugged. "It's good to know you don't go around hurting people for no reason."

Did they expect I would? I cocked my head at the Railroad agent.

"Sorry." He smiled apologetically. "Probably not the right time to make that sort of joke. The plan is to make it look like you tortured her, give the injuries a few days to begin healing, and have a small group of settlers 'sneak' her out of Sanctuary." Deacon met Sturges' gaze.

"We already got a few volunteers", the Synth said. "All that's left is the hard part."

Deacon nodded. "Yeah… she's got a cover story, you picked her up near Diamond City and ended up in a small town a little ways southwest of here. Our volunteers found her and, when she told them who she was, brought her back to Cambridge."

For the first time since I walked into the room, Danse shifted, eyes burning. "I don't agree with this. I'm going to be there. You won't take a single step past what's necessary."

That's something we can agree on.

While I'm sure whoever volunteered for this is capable of getting from here to Cambridge and back, I've seen the way they move. "I'll escort them to Cambridge."

"Doesn't that kinda defeat the purpose?" Sturges asked.

Deacon shook his head. "Plenty of ways to do that from a distance. I don't think it's a bad idea." He turned to me. "I was told you have a radio." I nodded. "Haylen's memorized your frequency. She'll contact you when she has something."

Maybe I'm not one to talk, but this idea seems… excessive. Yes, it's the best way to convince the Brotherhood she didn't willingly cooperate, but is there something I'm missing?

No… Maxson doesn't trust anything. This needs to be convincing.

It does, but I need space to think too. "Anything else?"

"Nope." The Railroad agent shook his head again. "Just need to know how you wanna do this."

I shrugged. "Give me some time."

"No problem."

As I left the makeshift cell and walked back to the lift, interrogation techniques began filtering through my head. There are countless possibilities, and I've used many myself, but whatever happens, it can't be permanent. Yes, the objective is to get Haylen back into the Brotherhood, but she's still volunteering for this.

Is she really doing this to convince people to leave the Brotherhood? I'm under no delusions about her main goal. Yes, I'm sure she wants to help get Julian away from them, but she wouldn't do this to pay back that debt, would she?

The platform began carrying me back to the surface, yellowish light from the morning sun filtering through the yawning mouth.

Whatever I have to do to complete the mission, right?

Instead of heading back down to Sanctuary, I paced into the woods to the north, found a quiet thicket with plenty of visual cover, and sat on a rock.

Whatever I have to do to complete the mission. That's what I've always done.

Except once.

The image of Nate as I slammed him down onto the table, his arm fracturing under my grasp flashed through my mind. I clenched my left hand into a fist as I felt the bones break.

At that moment, I decided to turn my back on 'my mission' of getting back to the UNSC. No one had ordered me to do it, but that's my duty, right? To the UNSC? To SPARTAN OPS? To Fourier?

Yes, my duty is to them, but I chose to throw that away because it was more important I protect Cass and Tommy. Now though… this is the same question, isn't it? My objective is to save Julian but to do that I have to torture Haylen. If the situation wasn't so uncomfortable, I'd almost find it amusing. I've killed so many people without a second thought, but I'm struggling with this decision? I have my mission, and I have a clear path forward for that mission. What's the problem?

If only I didn't already know the answer to that question.

There's more to consider than Julian though. If Haylen can, with Danse's help, peel off an appreciable portion of the Brotherhood's forces, that would weaken them dramatically. That means less risk for the soon-to-be Minutemen and everyone who may end up falling under that umbrella. Haylen was terrified, it was easy enough to see, the tension in her slender frame so severe it looked like she might injure herself. Her eyes said she was determined though.

Will that determination last once the torture starts?

At the end of the day, it's my decision whether I do this or not. The Scribe is willing to go through with it, but am I willing to do something like that to someone I've… come to trust?

If I trust her, maybe I should trust her to make this decision.

What if I go too far though? What if I do something that can't be fixed? What if I kill her?

I didn't miss the irony of that thought. Why am I so concerned about killing her when killing has never been, and still isn't, an issue for me?

Again, that answer's easy: because I don't intend to kill her.

There's a major difference between those two things. There are a lot of people I've intended to kill, but it isn't often I harm someone without the intent to kill them. It isn't often I harm someone when I don't want to.

Isn't that good enough? I don't want to hurt her. That's what keeps me from going too far. If this is the best option, take it and do it right.

Do it right…

Taking a deep breath, I stood.

This isn't something I like, but that's okay. Maybe it's a good thing this makes me uncomfortable. Before I decide though, I need to ask Haylen something.

My feet carried me back to the Vault and a few minutes later, I was standing back in the room. Sturges had left, leaving Deacon and the two guards with Haylen and Danse.

"That was fast", the Railroad agent said. "Took us the better part of yesterday to come to terms with this."

While that information may be useful in gauging how reluctant they all are to do this, it isn't useful, and not why I'm back down here.

"Haylen", I said, my voice sounding unnaturally loud in the large metal box. Her eyes locked onto me and she nodded. "Why are you doing this?"

The Scribe's back straightened. Suddenly, she looked a lot more confident. "Because it's the best way to save the people I care about. Like I told you before, there are a lot of good people in the Brotherhood who don't deserve to die because they followed Maxson. I followed him." She glanced at Danse. "It's my responsibility to at least try to help them." The small woman paused for a moment, and this time when she smiled, it reached her eyes. "And you helped me, so I'm going to keep up my end of the bargain. Remember, I was there when you found Cassandra, Thomas, and Julian. I heard their story too. I stayed with them while you and Nate were in the Glowing Sea. They're good kids and, just like my friends who are full members of the Brotherhood, Julian deserves better."

Talking about her reason for doing this, Haylen was far more confident than she had been a few moments ago. She may not be comfortable, but she's at peace with that decision.

Alright then. I know what I need to do.

"Okay, I'm in."

A/N: Oh Damon... even though I'm the one writing, sometimes I feel like the story, and characters, take on a mind of their own. Sometimes, as intelligent as he can be, Damon is also a bonehead. There are several of those moments in this chapter and they were certainly amusing for me to write. Sad news, sorta, not this coming weeks, but the week after (2nd week of August), I won't be posting. Nothing happened with the story, this is for personal stuff. But we'll get there when we get there. I'll see everyone next time!

Next Chapter: Cause and Effect