John wasn't sure what to expect when he received orders from Scribe Angharad to report to Brotherhood Headquarters. What the Scribe had neglected to mention in his message was that the Headquarters in question sat at the mooring station of the Prydwen, the Brotherhood's massive, militarized airship.
"Your documents in order, move along." The checkpoint guard announced, shocking John from his staring at the scale of the airship as it hovered over the Pre-War airport. The airport itself was nothing much to look at. There were rusted husks of what used to be planes, most of them had long since been scrapped or salvaged by survivors. There were a few military-grade hangars that had survived the centuries of abuse from the local weather and violence that the Brotherhood were in the midst of occupying.
John was directed to head instead towards a command post that Brotherhood personnel had constructed instead. As John approached, he noticed that it was a mobile command post that stood on tracks. A large generator was connected to it, making the loudest humming that distracted John as he approached the door.
Before he could do anything, the door opened and just behind it stood the Scribe himself.
"John, welcome. Please come in." The Scribe spoke as though he could not possibly wait a second longer. John did his best to make his way up the steep wooden steps while also maintaining some semblance of his composed demeanor.
"Good morning, Scribe Angharad. I hope you are well." John stammered as he slipped into the command post. The interior was split into one large common room with a kitchenette and two smaller rooms. A bedroom with an actual bed sat beyond a half-closed door and just beside the door was an opening to what John assumed to be a bathroom. It seemed the post was also the Scribe's domicile.
"I am." The Scribe answered, gesturing for John to sit at one of the folding chairs. "Coffee? Tea?" Angharad offered as he shuffled towards the kitchenette where John eyed a small jar with water over a hot plate. John shook his head and instead made his way to the square table closer to the center of the post.
Once John had been properly seated, the Scribe made himself comfortable across from John. "I expect you have everything prepared for this meeting?"
"Yes, sir." John responded. He lifted the suitcase he had been carrying and flipped it open, revealing a stack of manila folders and type-written documents. "As requested, I collected everything I could from the past couple weeks for this week's briefing. Even the material that we've already gone over."
"Excellent." Angharad mused as a smile touched the corner of his mouth. "Perhaps this time, we'll be able to convince the Elder to authorize our expedition."
"You really think so, sir?" John asked. He had tried to suppress his excitement before but in truth, John and the Scribe had been working towards securing the necessary resources to search a private armory of the Lone Wanderer's. Being a legendary hoarder, James Young was rumored to have created various safehouses throughout the wasteland filled with untold treasures. "He hasn't been very enthusiastic about our previous proposals."
Angharad waved aside John's concerns.
"The previous meetings were marred with the simple fact that the presence of James Young within the city means that the Brotherhood must move carefully." Angharad explained. "No matter what, we cannot let this city devolve into chaotic urban conflict. There is too much at stake."
"What exactly is the Brotherhood preparing for? Even Paladins have started sending their Field Scribes for references and reports by Station 12." John commented. While he had initially been commissioned as an Archivist, John was told by Angharad not to expect much respect from the main arms of Brotherhood command. At the time, Angharad reasoned that the role of Archivist was of unique importance to the Elder but little to normal operations. Apparently, circumstances have changed.
"You know there is much I am not supposed to tell you, John." Angharad answered with a knowing glance. His glasses rested on the low part of his nose leading John to think he resembled a pre-war caricature of librarians. "But I will tell you that the Brotherhood will soon shift away from patrols and sweeping operations because something big is coming. Well, perhaps multiple somethings. I expect the military intelligence office will quickly grow to become increasingly important for the Brotherhood of Steel."
"Any particular reason why intelligence was unutilized in the past?" John probed as he usually did when he had spare time with the Scribe. Angharad was an interesting example of Brotherhood Scribes as he was unusually well-versed in the history of the Brotherhood of Steel. Most tended to favor technical manuals or some other niche technology. John personally found Angharad rather amicable compared to many of the Scribes posted at Station 12.
"Simple." Angharad began. "No people." Angharad offered a gruff chuckle as he leaned back into his chair. John could tell Angharad was in a relatively good mood as his tendency to relax and talk came often on Angharad's "good" days. "You come from out-west, John. Or rather, west of here. Things are different back in the Capital Wasteland. The water itself was polluted and irradiated, making settlement and rebuilding efforts difficult at best and futile in most cases. When the Brotherhood arrived, there was hardly a populace to investigate for intelligence purposes."
John nodded along, watching Angharad carefully and mentally noting the details in Angharad's accounting. What made Angharad interesting to John was the fact that Angharad himself was not from the Capital Wasteland either. He came from much further west than even John's hometown of West Union. Many of the Brotherhood personnel had come from the West and John was eager to learn more about the fabled "civilized country" that was supposed to exist there. Even so, Angharad felt his place was among his Capital Wasteland brothers and sisters, a rare trait among the new guard.
"Then of course there was the Lyons Mandate." Angharad had hit that familiar rhythm that John had been coaxing from Angharad. He had become and open tap of information from which John knew he would be fascinated. "Protect the people. Bring us your weak and downtrodden. We will make them fine protectors of the weak, defenders of the people!" Angharad, in his excitement had risen from his seat and had began chanting rhythmically much like some of the few Capital Wasteland Knights that had been assigned to the Pitt. "A noble cause, but wasteful."
"Of lives?" John asked, leaning forward in his seat. Angharad sipped from his mug of hot plate coffee. He winced at the taste as though he couldn't decide if it was rancid or satisfactory.
"Yes, that too but of technology. Of valuable experience." Angharad continued. "With every wastelander saved, the Brotherhood lost opportunities to fulfill its original mandates from the Great Elders of the West. To secure technology and mankind's future in the process."
"How did the Lyons Mandate waste technology?" John asked. "I mean, look at the Citadel, at the Prydwen!" John gestured at the massive airship looming above. Angharad nodded but held a grim look on his face.
"Aye, look at the Prydwen." He commented proudly. "The citadel." He said with a pause, far less proud. "There was much technology, weaponry, stored in the vaults of those hallowed halls. If the Brotherhood had spent as much time decoding those holotapes as it did protecting the wasteland, perhaps we might have unlocked more secrets of the Old World before the Enclave sank its teeth into the site."
"You still haven't told me how that happened." John reminded Angharad, leading Angharad to playfully slap his forehead as if he had sincerely forgotten as this time.
"A story for another time, son." Angharad smiled. "But the fact of the matter is the Prydwen was the Lyons Brotherhood's big hurrah. It was what allowed the healing of the Schism."
"Yes, it's why people like you and Paladin Gaheris are here." John replied tactfully.
"A fair observation." Angharad nodded, but he pointed a finger upwards before replying. "But without Western aid, the Brotherhood might well have been locked for years longer in their struggle against the Super Mutant Menace and the Enclave Remnants."
"Aren't there still Renmant groups unaccounted for?" John asked.
"That is classified information, Mr. Sakamoto." Angharad replied accusatorrily. "But you're not wrong. At best, the manual on how to defeat the old enemy is centuries outdated and old Lyons led his people well with a diminished force. But really, how much could they do with a small force so thinly spread across the entire Capital Wasteland?" he lamented. Even so, John noticed a twinkle of pride in Angharad's recounting of events.
"If you must know, then it was made possible through the efforts of the Lyons Pride and of Sentinel Young." a gruff voice announced its presence from behind John, apparently having snuck up on both John and the Scribe. Angharad shot to his feet.
"Elder Maxson." He composed himself and prepared a hasty salute to greet the young Elder who stood by the open door, accompanied by a man that John did not know.
"At ease, Angharad. Sakamoto." Maxson replied with a small wave. "I came with our Western guest to update him on our progress the Pitt."
"Ah, greetings Paladin." Angharad saluted the unfamiliar figure. John mimicked a similar greeting and bowed his head, hoping to mask his surprise at seeing Maxson before he was ready. "We were just about to gather our materials and head over to the Prydwen."
"I"m sure it wouldn't have taken too long, what with the talk of old times and glory days." Maxson mused as he approached the table. He gestured at the seat beside John which the yet-unnamed Paladin took before Maxson himself sat.
"Ah, well." Angharad stammered, lightly embarrassed.
"It was my fault, Elder." John interjected, hoping to help Angharad save face. "I was curious on Brotherhood operations and I felt recounting some old stories might help provide insight to some of the notes I've been decoding."
"So I see." Maxson replied neutrally. "Well, ask away. Perhaps my scant recollections may be of service. I didn't see much outside of the Citadel, but I was there too after all."
"Oh that would be wonderful." John replied politely.
"Indeed, a primary source from one who lived through the events directly!" Angharad concurred. "With the Old Enemy at the gates, how did the Brotherhood claw itself back from the the Disaster at Megaton?"
"Megaton was indeed a horrible loss." Maxson murmured. His eyes seemed to be lost in memory but they quickly regained their hawk-like focus that John had attributed to Maxson. "The first thermonuclear bombing since the Great War, old Lyons was beside himself, learning that even the Pride had failed to stop it."
"I'm sure they did all they could." Angharad consoled.
"What happened?" John asked. Maxson's gaze focused on the papers in front of him as if he were studying the documents while reliving old memories.
"I only heard of the aftermath. We learned about the conspiracy far too late. Enemies of the city had long been planning to use the bomb that formed the city's center as a means to destroy it but the locals for some reason believed it to be disarmed. Sentinel Young claimed to have disarmed it but no Brotherhood Scribes got the chance to look over it themselves."
"Why didn't they?" Angharad shot John a look but Maxson didn't seem to mind.
"It wasn't a priority." The Elder replied matter-of-factly with a shrug. "There were greater threats and frankly, why should the Brotherhood waste its time helping a settlement that had foolishly chosen to build around an undetonated nuclear bomb? At least, that was part of the thinking."
"What changed about Megaton that the Pride itself was deployed to stop the detonation?" John probed further.
"Megaton and Vault 101 drafted and signed the Vault-Tec Collaboration Agreement creating the regional power we now call Vault City. It also left an open invitation for the various settlements in and around the Wasteland." Angharad answered this one. "If I recall correctly, Rivet CIty, Big Town and the Library were in talks for a mutual security agreement."
"The Brotherhood needed to show it was still the military power of the region." Elder Maxson clarified. "It didn't hurt that the Brotherhood had an observer status over the procession."
"So the defense of Megaton was intended to strengthen the Brotherhood's relationship with the settlements?" John asked. Maxson nodded.
"At the very least, show that we were still committed to the task of protecting the people of the Capital Wasteland." He added.
"Some say it was a natural extension of the Lyons Mandate. If the Brotherhood did not act to stop the threat of the Enclave Remnant, then it might as well not have bothered pretending to be the peoples' protectors." Angharad interjected quickly, warily eyeing the Paladin.
"Yes." Maxson confirmed, his gaze fixed now on John. "And the Pride paid dearly for it."
"Knight Captain Colvin and Dusk were forced to retire from combat duties as a consequence of the detonation." Angharad explained.
"I guess Power Armor can only protect you so far." John commented.
"That is precisely why we are so interested in the Sentinel's work in the Pitt." Maxson nodded as he spoke. John sensed the conversation was shifting to a new topic but he mentally noted where they paused the conversation. Perhaps he could pry the full story from Angharad when the Paladin wasn't present. "What am I looking at here?"
Angharad explained what he and John had discussed regarding the documents before the Elder interrupted the conversation. John noticed that as Anghard explained, the Paladin pulled aside a folder and carefully thumbed through its contents.
"This much and it's only half?" Maxson asked, ending his inquiry with a light whistle. Angharad nodded as he fixed his glasses.
"Naturally, we expect to learn more quickly. As I understand, the code itself isn't too difficult. It's based on an old Vault-Tec cipher which we believe the Sentinel wrote in out of habit rather than deliberate encryption." Angharad described the context as both the Elder and the Paladin thumbed through folders. John noticed that the Elder had paid particular attention to the folders detailing the Steel Mill. There wasn't much information in the notes on the Mill but there was a lot of coded correspondence from various figures of the city.
"Is it possible that he has hidden anything within the code?" Maxson asked with a shrug. "A code within a code?" Angharad looked at John.
"Anything's possible." John quickly answered. "I wouldn't put it past Mr. Young but as it is my focus has been on decrypting the documents I could as quickly as possible. I didn't look through any of it thinking of deeper encryptions."
"Hmm, something to look into then." Maxson murmured. He looked over at his Paladin companion. John now allowed himself to take a close look at the man. Unlike Maxson's grizzled features that screamed a life on the open Wasteland, the Paladin looked very unremarkable. The wrinkles around his eyes suggested the Paladin was older than he appeared making John guess at who this Paladin could be. "Anything catch your eye?" Maxson asked.
The Paladin tossed a transcript in front of the Elder.
"Lots of correspondence with someone in the hospital." The Paladin commented with a surprisingly light voice.
"Who is this Allison Huang?" Maxson asked.
"A presiding member on the Citizens Council. She represents the Public Health Office and its constituent workers." John answered. "Her name came up on many official correspondences between their offices."
"What's their connection?" Maxson probed. John shrugged.
"Outside of their official duties? Nothing significant I've noted. It looks mostly like they worked together closely on many projects and they corresponded frequently." John explained.
"Perhaps we can put together that task force I've been requesting and we can get more eyes on the matter?" Angharad offered. "Mr. Sakamoto has been asking for fresh eyes and I know that people on the ground can add valuable perspectives that analysts may not fully appreciate."
Maxson seemed to consider this for a moment before he was interrupted by the Paladin.
"We could also lean on the Hospital Workers. Search the premises for illicit technology." the Paladin counter-offered, leading Maxson to stroke his chin.
"The most important thing right now is to maintain our relationship with the current Secretary of the City. Let us bring our concerns to him and see if we can extend our patrols to the hospital." Maxson announced. The Paladin nodded, seemingly satisfied. "At the same time, I will authorize the creation of the task force. Scribe Angharad, I trust you have some people in mind?"
"Yes, sir." Angharad confirmed. "I'll have the details sent for your review by the end of the day."
"Very good." Maxson continued. "Now, Mr. Sakamoto, with this Task Force, I cannot place you in command due to your rank as Archivist."
John nodded, understanding that the unique arrangement was to give him access to records he otherwise would never have dreamed to pore over at the Public Library.
"However, that does not mean that your role in this operation is one I take lightly. I am hereby granting you a brevet rank where your standing will be on par with a Knight-Sergeant. I want you to be flexible in procuring future resources given that this may very well be the last meeting I can attend personally."
"Is it finally time, Elder?" Angharad asked, John felt the Scribe now appeared as though a delicious meal had appeared on the table over the litter of documents and letters. The Elder smiled.
"Yes indeed, old friend." Maxson confirmed. "Paladin Basil and his squad here just made the trip from Chicago with important news."
"In ousting the local Enclave remnant, we recovered incomplete records detailing a class of power armor that the Brotherhood has yet to acquire." Paladin Basil explained. He reached into his jacket and produced a folded slip of paper of his own and slid it to Scribe Angharad.
"The T-60!" Angharad's eyes shone as if he were staring at some kind of lost treasure. John arched his head up to get a better view and found a cross-section of a power-armor that he quickly realized was not fielded by any of the Brotherhood in the Pitt.
"You always said plans to manufacture a full set were somewhere out there. Thanks to the efforts of our brothers and sisters in the Midwest, and with a little help from the Enclave, we have the plans." Maxson smiled. "Once we acquire the Steel Mill, we'll have the ability to manufacture fresh suits. No more scavving!"
Angharad placed his arm around Maxson's shoulder and laughed, gleeful and the culmination of years of work on his part. John was happy for the man. In the short time he had gotten to know Angharad, he knew that the Scribe was a serious but passionate man who was particularly interested in strengthening the local chapter's issues with survivability in combat operations. Such issues had plagued the East Coast chapter since the Lyons days but Angharad seemingly took it upon himself to find the solution when the Schism was mended and he was among the first reinforcements from the West.
"But this is no time to celebrate just yet." Maxson warned, his smile now replaced with his usual grimace. "None of this matters until we get the means to manufacture these suits."
"That's what we're here for." Paladin Basil interrupted. "Get us the intel and we can take care of the rest." John noted the Paladin's desire to get to work. While he was willing to listen to briefings and discussions about documents and plans, the Paladin was eager to get his hands dirty.
"That time will come, Paladin. For now, let my Archivist take the lead. This city requires a gentle hand or else we wake a sleeping giant."
"You mean the former Sentinel?" Basil sneered. "My team has handled plenty of the Enclave's 'heroes' before. I'm sure with good intel we can-"
"I was actually referring to the people of this city." Maxson interjected. "The Sentinel is not the type to strike unless provoked. I wonder if the people of this city are as principled and as disciplined."
"On that we can only wait and see." Angharad agreed. "The most likely threat remains with the former protectors of the people, the Vanguard."
"Uh, Scribe, the members of the Vanguard still see themselves as the true protectors of the people." John reminded the group.
"And I believe their leader is looking for any reason to undermine the Brotherhood's security privileges in the PItt." Angharad opined. "I believe the Elder's cautious approach is correct."
"Any objections?" Maxson asked. No one answered. "Then the matter is tabled. If the hospital proves to be an important lead, notify me immediately. Otherwise, get me the Steel Mill." Maxson ordered. The three men answered affirmatively and watched Elder Maxson make his exit. To John's confusion, Paladin Basil stayed behind despite having faced disagreement from the other men. John was more used to the type of Paladins who tended to stalk off annoyed at red tape and searching for ways to still get what they wanted.
"Given that we will likely be working with you in the near future, Paladin Basil, I wanted to offer you my welcome and regards." Angharad spoke first with a polite smile. He offered an open hand which Basil received and shook firmly. John reciprocated the gesture but Basil was less enthusiastic to return the gesture.
"Thanks." He replied curtly.
"What of the frontier? How goes things in the West?" Angharad asked, his gaze now serious. Apparently this was a matter important to Angharad but not enough to warrant asking in front of Elder Maxson.
"Not good but things aren't bad either. The New California Republic is buckling under its weight. The strike from the Divide rattled it and now there's talk of civil war brewing. The West Coast Elders have called an emergency meeting to be held within the next few months to organize a national strategy.
"So that's what will occupy Maxson's attention!" Angharad concluded. "Of course! And what of the remnant?"
"The Enclave?" Basil asked. "If you ask me the Elders are too eager to drop conflict with the old enemy. They're hungry for revenge against the bear. Eager to reclaim lost territory and settle old scores." Angharad nodded throughout Basil's thoughts.
"It's why I left, you know." Angharad was opening up. John had seen this before. Despite his personal loyalty to Arthur Maxson, Angharad warmed up particularly quickly to people who brought news of his beloved hometown. "But if the Elders are meeting, then what of the Prydwen? Of our the coming fight?" Basil shrugged.
"If you mean to ask me about the plans in Chicago, I'm afraid I'm in the dark. After our successes against the Enclave, they sent out three expeditions. Two to the West, and me here. I believe the Council may be positioning their eyes back West."
"Hmm." Angharad muttered. "That's troubling. We may need every bit of aid from our brothers if the Commonwealth is as dangerous as it is rumored to be."
"That's my understanding as well." Basil agreed. "That's why it's important we secure the Mill sooner rather than later. Maybe even while the Elder is out of town."
"You know Elder Maxson's orders…" Angharad paused, as if lost in thought. He turned to John. "John, has there been any notice of the James Young's return to the Pitt?"
"Not to my knowledge or at least, I haven't heard anything around Station 12." John answered trying hard to recall the scraps of conversation he had with some of the Scribes and Initiates at his home outpost. "Since a lot of the Scribes there are from the Capital Wasteland, I probably would have heard something."
"So then it's not impossible that he has returned discretely." Angharad began shuffling through the papers.
"James Young is out of the city?" Basil asked, searching for confirmation from Angharad then from John. "For how long?"
"A month." Angharad replied as he searched. "Maybe longer."
"Why haven't we taken advantage of that?" Basil asked. "We could be more aggressive in our sweeps. I've read the reports, the city is rife with military stockpiles from before and from the Revolution. Under the protocols, there is ample opportunity-"
"We are a force of 500 working within a city whose population nears 5000." Angharad interrupted. "Whatever my thoughts are on the possibility of action, Elder Maxson's conclusions remain correct in that those numbers mean we cannot be foolhardy with our actions."
Basil was clearly disappointed. Both at being interrupted but also in having his hands tied. He seemed to be unused to being subjected to Scribe commands.
"There must be something."
"On that, we agree." Angharad concurred. His hands finally stopped moving through the piles of documents. John realized what Angharad had been searching for first.
"You want to move on the Community Armory?" John asked. "That's under the direct control and influence of the Citizens' Council and the Vanguard."
"Yes," Angharad nodded. "We were barred from investigating when we first arrived in the city, but perhaps we can convince our friend within the Council to grant us special permission."
"Or we could sneak in ourselves discretely." Basil added.
"Whatever we discuss here tonight will be subject onto to the people present. Not a word to anyone else until the time is ripe." Angharad warned.
"What about Elder Maxson?" John asked, worrited about his precarious standing within the Brotherhood hierarchy.
"Do not worry, John." Angharad smiled. "We'll be careful not to invite disaster to the Brotherhood and the Elder's wrath can be blunted by results."
John looked at the two men, their minds made up. John was a little shocked at how Angharad had been so quick to agree with Maxson over Basil while the man was present but was not just as quick to maneuver around the man's explicit orders.
Even so, the idea that they might be doing something major and that John's work might be essential to the operation was very inviting. He too had wondered at the kinds of weapons gathered by the Wanderer over the years of adventures and ruling over the city. And he was excited knowing that he could now play a bigger part in unearthing these secrets.