Diamond City
April the 2nd, 2289
23:18
"She's insufferable, and so damn smug about it and the fact she's a former Courser. You know what those are? The Institute's hunters. Only good news is she's supposedly going to stay the hell out of my way as much as possible, but I still don't feel entirely comfortable with her or them, if they can get me into the Institute or not. I'm pretty sure the only one of them who actually cares about me is, well..."
"She will stay out of your way if she knows what's good for her. You are a fire fight. You need my remedy? The trick is simple. Insufferable people are dampened in their annoying things by a good drink. Let me get you one on the house, lapochka."
His usual, lighthearted self, Vadim Bobrov popped the cap on one of the best beers he could find before handing it to the irritable former lawyer, humming to himself. After a few sips, and setting the drink down to her left, Nora gave the cheery bartender a half smile, which he happily returned. She laughed a little when she saw Cait reach over and grab his hand, dragging him forward and, having caught him by surprise, managing to pin his arm down for a few seconds. She winked when she let go, telling him with a smirk to time her and pour twenty eight shots of the man's best moonshine. Perking up from where she had been swirling her drink in its glass, half asleep, Rowdy excitedly began tugging at the former lawyer's right arm, briefly startling her though she, amused, rolled her eyes and swept up her beer to swap seats with the Atom Cats' leading lady. Clapping and cheering when Vadim brought out the shots, Rowdy elbowed Cait, now on the former cage fighter's right, and began frantically whispering to her, all but begging her to win. The ruckus getting their attention, Zeke and Bluejay left the two women they had been flirting with to come over to and cheer Cait on. The former cage fighter cracked her knuckles with a smirk before snapping her fingers only a few inches away from Vadim's face.
"If I win," She said, her eyes glinting with mischief. "You have to give me these free, don't you?"
"I do," Vadim said, dusting his hands off. "Why so bold tonight, lapochka?"
"Doing as many shots as I've got years alive," Cait winked. "Turned twenty eight a week and a half ago, and me thinks I got a pretty good chance."
"Time starts in seventeen seconds," Vadim turned towards the clock. "Be prepared."
"She will be!" Rowdy cheered. "Shots, shots, shots!"
The second the seconds hand passed over, the first minute having begun, the former cage fighter snatched up the first two shots, taking one after the other. Seeing Zeke was watching the clock, Vadim turned back to take the empty shot glasses as they were downed. Five already before him, he chuckled. Six. Seven. Eight. Nine. Ten. Eleven. Twelve. Thirteen. Fourteen. Halfway there, Zeke shouting out she had a little more than a minute left, Cait snatched up one, downed it, and then the next, her hands moving in a frantic rhythm. Her pace almost as quick as his, Vadim counted the empty shot glasses as he took them down from the counter the moment she set them back down. Rowdy kept cheering, Bluejay and several other patrons joining in. Zeke shouted out she had thirty more seconds. Twenty one. Twenty two. Twenty three. Twenty four. Twenty five. Twenty six. Out of the corners of her eyes, the former cage fighter realised Nora had abandoned her beer and had come around to be on her left side. Smiling at her, adrenaline seizing her when she saw the seconds hand close to passing over, Cait snatched up the last two shots and downed them in quick succession before taking a twenty ninth from Zeke for good luck, breaking the last glass in her attempt to slam it down with the others. The glass shattered shortly before the seconds hand passed over and, taken aback, Vadim began frantically clapping, cheering for her with Rowdy, Zeke, Bluejay, and the crowd.
Swivelling in her chair, Cait leapt up and, startling her, threw her arms around Nora and kissed her.
For a few seconds, she felt nothing.
Then, a soft, light pressure met her lips.
"Think I've got a reputation to protect," Cait said when she let the slightly stunned former lawyer go. "I hope you don't mind."
Nora nervously laughed. "I…I don't. Didn't think you would actually try to…take that many shots."
"In just under two minutes, too!" Zeke shouted, lifting the former cage fighter up on his right shoulder, Bluejay lifting her up on his left. "If you people don't all chip in and buy this crazy bitch dinner, you're a fucking cunt! She just set a new record! Think you can beat it?"
"Let me tell you a secret," Rowdy said, slipping past them to whisper to Nora while the crowd cheered. "I have been kissed by her before, too, and, trust me, hold onto that moment. Cait's good at it, when she feels bothered to."
"She…she's certainly talented at quite a lot," Nora said, awkwardly wrapping her arms around herself, leaning back against the bar. Is that what the strange feeling was…am I sweet on… "She's –"
"Yefim!" Rowdy hollered, nearly knocking the former lawyer to the floor when she pulled herself up onto the bar. "Guess who's the new record holder for most shots of your moon –"
"I can tell," He irritably cut in, loudly clapping to get everyone to quiet down. "If you're going to yell," He grumbled when the room when almost silent. "Then please do so outside. Some of us like to rest at nighttime."
"You are no fun!" Vadim nonchalantly waved a hand at his brother as he walked over to him. "What is the point having a nice bar if you do not make noise for the best of patrons?"
"He means me!" Cait said, her arms swaying above her head before falling to rest atop it. "I, Catherine Savannah Felgate, am the prestigious shot taking record holder of the Dugout Inn!"
Rowdy cheered. "You tell 'em!"
"Put her down before you drop her," Nora sent Zeke and Bluejay a pointed look, the two men beginning to wobble. "Last thing anyone wants is for Cait to get concussed."
"Taking care of me?" The former cage fighter grinned as she was set back down onto her feet. "Good to know. Think Piper is getting tired of being the only one."
"Really?" Nora said, laughing a little. "Why?"
"Passed out on the couch in her office one too many times," Cait cheerfully replied, her steps a bit wavy. "Haven't done it since…about two years ago. Got woken up by one of her cats jumping on me head. Nearly clawed part of me scalp off."
"Had that happen, once," Zeke said, looking disgruntled at the memory. "Must have been ten or so years ago. Also wasn't a cat."
"Sure it was," Rowdy teased. "The Cat in question just so happened to be Andy."
"Good times," Zeke said, briefly pounding his fist to his chest. "Man is well missed."
Nora raised an eyebrow. "What happened to him?"
"Have to agree," Cait said, laughing and draping an arm over Nora's shoulders. "I only vaguely remember this bloke, and I've been dropping in on you lot for years now."
"When did you meet them?" Nora said, a distant but familiar fluttering feeling in her body when Cait rested her head on her shoulder. "And, honestly, how?"
"Must have been four or five years ago," Cait said with a shrug. "It was shortly before I ended up in the Combat Zone. Was wandering, getting by mostly by fighting or stealing, and got fucked up after breaking me left foot. Rowdy and Bluejay found me trying to fix it and dragged me back to their garage by the nape of me neck."
"Because you looked like a sick kitten, buster," Rowdy said, sauntering over to ruffle the former cage fighter's shoulder length, messy hair. "Finally found someone shorter than me too."
Cait scowled. "I wear me steel toed boots everywhere for a reason. Not that anyone who'd try and mock me for being an inch and some change shy of a round five fucking feet tall is still around to tell the tale."
"Me and Nora look tall to you, then?" Rowdy teased, twirling her fingers in front of Cait's face. "As members of the 'barely past five feet tall' club?"
Cait rolled her eyes. "And here I was thinking we were about to mourn good old Aiming Andy."
"Found you about six months before he took the long walk," Rowdy said, nonchalantly leaning back against the bar counter. "Or the dirt nap. Call it what you want."
"If we were a cult, we could say he ascended," Bluejay snickered, hopping up to sit next to her. "But, no, it was a stupid accident," He shrugged and turned to Nora. "Andy would've had the name Handy Andy if it weren't for the fact he actually won when all us guys took our dicks out to see who had the biggest and longest –"
"Thanks for the nightmarish memory, Bluejay," Rowdy twitted him over the head, smirking when she saw Nora was laughing. "He's just being a little bitch for the fun of it," She said, stretching out her arms. "Andy would be proud. If he hadn't set himself on fire trying to rig fireworks."
"He what?" Nora eyed her strangely. "I can't tell if you're pulling my leg or if…"
"It's true," Rowdy said, suddenly snatching the nearest of the former lawyer's hands to her. "And, hey, I heard what you were telling Vadim. About the bitchy ex-Institute agent? She and her friends might lie to you but, I promise, we don't. We ain't exactly pretty but being covered in power armour grease and drinking beer and some Nuka Colas…it's better than anything someone that high minded could even imagine."
Nora smiled. "There's one woman amongst them who's willing to fight for me. Knowing that…it helps at least a little, for what it's worth."
"Then the rest of them still have a lot to learn," Rowdy replied, winking in approval at Cait when Nora pulled her a little closer to her. "Because shit gets easier when you give up on your fucking pride and focus on what really matters and, far as I'm concerned, that's always the people you care about most."
"Listen to her," Bluejay said, jokingly twitting Rowdy at the back of the head. "She learnt that lesson the hard way."
"If it took me waking up nearly dead on the side of the road and being rescued by you idiots to learn to give a shit about people other than me, I'd say it was worth it," Rowdy said, letting Nora's hands go to playfully smack Bluejay with the back of her hand. "Life can be a bitch. Seeing it ain't breaking you and got people at your back, though? I think you've got a damn good fighting chance."
The Institute
April the 9th, 2289
14:00
Clean.
Brimming with people.
And absolutely massive.
Always a bit wary of direct interaction with the Institute but, in particular, with their 'Coursers,' being informed he was to be escorted to and through the Institute by one had made the ever anxious Gerald Spencer very nearly sick. Those feelings were overcome by awe and disbelief almost the moment he and his escort had stepped out from the disorienting teleporter. Knowing how his daughter got to and from the Institute had been one thing, but experiencing it was another; it was utterly nauseating, and his head hurt badly when he rematerialised beside the 'Courser.' His hands shaking, he jammed them into the pockets of his light jacket, careful to follow the 'Courser' all but perfectly, fearful of doing something he was not supposed to. He tried not to become distracted as they walked through the gargantuan, underground city. Down to a...subway, of sorts, he suspected. After a few stops, onto a lift. A long walk of, at least, ten minutes. Finally, up a flight of stairs. Then another. A few more minutes later and they reached a door through which he was led. He all but froze in the doorway when it was opened and the 'Courser' departed, taken aback at seeing the woman whom, begrudgingly, he acknowledged was his daughter's foster mother. Seeing his daughter beside her mentor, his shoulders dropped their tension and, once it was clear he was being given permission, he sat down beside her foster mother on her left, and her mentor on her right.
Taking in the rest of the room, his anxieties and fears ebbed away into curiosity. Preoccupation in his thoughts began to take over when he looked between the man at the head of the table and the man directly across from him at the other end of the table. Similar. They looked so similar; were they father and son? The longer he looked between them, the more striking the similarities were, though the younger of the two men, around his late fifties or early sixties, so far as Gerald reckoned, had a full beard as well as thick hair. I wish I had worn my baseball cap now. My bald spots are… Trying not dwell on it, Gerald fought to keep himself observant. The older of the two men, nearing eighty, he imagined, was perfectly clean shaven but possessed the same thick hair. Both men had very nearly the same bone structure, and the same expressive edge to their eyes. He shifted to looking at the man across from him to avoid seeming strange by staring too long. Surprised by how much younger he and his daughter's foster mother looked compared to the others present, Gerald bit down on the urge to pry. Beside the young man was sat the sour faced, irritable woman of whom had come to inform him of his daughter's and Dr. Li's disappearance. Much content than the rest of them was the middle aged man beside her in a hazmat suit, and, across from him, sat Dr. Li, then his daughter, his daughter's foster mother, and, finally, him.
"Everything about this place is…incredible," He hesitantly said, continuing when no one objected though he did begin to stutter. "How long have you been here? And, if I may ask, how many people live and work here?"
"We've been here since the conclusion of the War topside," Allie informed him. "As for how many people live and work here, as a result of our extensive – I suppose one could call it a city – building out, deeper and deeper and farther east and farther west ever since, currently we have seven hundred and fifty six thousand members of the Institute, give or take."
Gerald gaped at her. "Nearly a million people? That's amazing."
"It is, but it is not why we are here, Mister Spencer," The man at the head of the table said. "Since I was the one who ordered the recruitment of your daughter to the Institute in the first place, and in light of your cooperation and patience with us the last several years, we thought it most prudent you be present to hear the final account of what happened to your daughter and Dr. Li."
Gerald bowed his head. "Understood."
"Additionally, because you're already quite familiar with Dr. Li and Dr. Filmore, I'll make the introductions swift," The older of the two men said calmly. "I am Nathaniel Norwich and my son, Shaun, at the head of the table, is the Institute's Director. To my left you have Dr. Holdren representing the Bioscience Division, and, next to him, Dr. Alana Secord representing the Synth Retention Bureau. Beside Dr. Secord is Dr. Binet representing the Robotics Division Division. And, of course, as you well know, Dr. Li represents the Advanced Systems Division and Dr. Filmore represents the Facilities Division."
"Thank you," Gerald said with a small smile. "Alright, then," He said, looking sick again at the thought. "Please let them explain what occurred before you tell me what I'm supposed to do or meant to do."
"Of course. You should know, also, that we will be…covertly aiding the Minutemen who played a significant role in the rescue of your daughter and Dr. Li, starting with clearing out their former base of operations known as 'the Castle.'"
Gerald nervously nodded. "Of course."
"I'd also like to thank you for informing us through X6-88 of that plan, as it made it possible for us to have unit X6-88 intercept them once they were seen to be well away from the Brotherhood's installation by our other…intelligence sources," Shaun said politely. "Dr. Li," He said, shifting slightly in his chair to be better oriented towards her. "Please commence your testimony. I will be recording this as I have with the previous interviews of you and Jacqueline on the matter."
"As this is for the sake of being fully transparent with Gerald, I'll be as short as possible. I have no desire to ruminate on the matter any longer," Madison narrowly glanced at Gerald. "Using a…strong inhaled anaesthetic, a Brotherhood Knight, assisted by a field Scribe, accosted me and Jacqueline near the insertion point about a mile outside of University Point at which we usually Relay to for her visits home. After they were successful in forcing us to lose consciousness, they, as I understand it, had us carried to a vertibird and flown up to the Brotherhood's massive airship, called the Prydwen."
Gerald swallowed hard. "Did…they didn't do permanent damage to either of you, did they?"
"Thankfully not," Madison said irritably. "Jacqueline was completely uninjured and, while I received a first degree chemical burn on one of my cheeks, I've healed perfectly fine. Unfortunately for both of us, that was comparatively mild to what they demanded and forced upon us after about a month of our being under their thumb."
"It was," Jacq trembled, looking down at her hands after Allie reached over to set a reassuring hand to her shoulders. "The Brotherhood, they're trying to make a weapon to control everyone. The Commonwealth, all of us, everyone, and wanted me and Dr. Li to complete it so they could use it against us here because we're 'the enemy' in their eyes."
"The weapon in question is a pre-War military project that had, at the time of its inception, never seen the light of day due to power problems that couldn't be resolved. About ten years ago, with my assistance, they were able to get its reactor running and used the gargantuan robot – called 'Liberty Prime' to finally put an end to the so-called Enclave," Madison sighed. "They did the right thing, then. The Enclave had terrorised and done everything to make the lives of everyone they came into contact with a living hell, claiming they could because they were made up of the remains of the US Federal Government."
"Liberty Prime," Allie said when Gerald's gaze became glassy and lost. "Was a massive, bipedal robot whose primary weapon was the nuclear bomb. It had been meant to be used to defeat China and Russia during the War and, specifically, to regain control of Anchorage, Alaska."
"Having done the right thing then, a decade ago, was well needed and good. I'll never deny it, and there are a handful of former Brotherhood members whom I knew at the time I still hold great respect for. In every way, the project was a success and I had assumed they would abandon it after it was destroyed in the final battle that eliminated the Enclave entirely," Madison frowned. "That turned out to not be the case. Since then, they've had a massive overturn in leadership and their current leader, a man by the name of Arthur Maxson, is under thirty. He, apparently, made the decision to revive the project and to use me and Jacqueline to put it back together."
"What?" Gerald suddenly exclaimed, staring at her in disbelief. "So, it's your fault the thing's here now?"
"It is not," Shaun calmly intervened. "Dr. Li is correct that the Brotherhood's actions, then, were justified and with good intention. She is also correct in stating they've changed drastically since then, and it was a reasonable assumption to make that the Brotherhood would not waste time and resources on the project after its success."
"I…" Gerald nervously looked away from Madison, disquieted by the anger that had, albeit briefly, crossed her face. "I understand. I think, really, I just need someone to blame for this. For what my daughter went through."
"Which would be Arthur Maxson and the rest of the Brotherhood," Madison pointedly said. "At least you care about your daughter and want a safe and strong moral footing for her. The same certainly can't be said for Maxson and his wife."
"Dr. Li," Cade had said, a warning note to his voice. "I respect your care for the girl, but your judgements on Elder Maxson are unreasonable. You don't even have experience as a parent yourself, as you never have been and never will be a parent."
"Not biologically," Madison had told him, crossing her arms. "Look at Jacq. Or Annette though, if you need a reminder. Especially her."
"Dr. Davis," He had corrected. "Was not and is not your daughter."
"Please tell me you're kidding. She and I may not have gotten on perfectly, and certainly not when I first met her, but you're wrong," Madison had snapped back, her heartrate spiking a moment. "She's as good as."
"I can assure you, Gerald, your daughter is safe here," Shaun said, his voice startling the head of Advanced Systems away from her bitter thoughts. "Should you need a little time here to feel assured of that," He gave Alana a sharp look. "I doubt anyone here would object."
"Th…thank you," Gerald stuttered, about ready to cry when his daughter turned to look at him. "If she wants me here…then I…I owe it to her as her father to ensure her happiness. Her safety. That has always been my priority."
Diamond City
April the 13th, 2289
16:43
Of all the things everyone from his secretary to the General of the Minutemen had told him about the state of things on a certain fog covered Island, Nicholas Julius Valentine had not anticipated being presented with a photograph of a synth whose appearance had more than a few disturbing similarities to his own.
The moment he saw the signature of his former business partner on the back of the photograph, addressed to him and his secretary, he knew it was authentic. There was no more room to doubt the man's existence. I really hoped you were pulling my leg, Ellie. You and everyone else, too. It was impossible to mistake my mug for anyone else but now…it's just hard. Folding the photograph back up, the aged detective slipped it into his desk and jammed it shut. He slid back in his chair and swivelled in it to face his companions. Ellie had pushed herself up to sit atop her desk, her legs crossed daintily over her ankles. The General of the Minutemen and his right hand man were standing leaned back against the wall, speaking in low tones with Sturges Presley as he worked on fixing up the electrical issues in the office; somehow, in the span of only a few weeks, the lighting, plumbing, heating, and cooling had all begun shorting out. Where it had frustrated the aged detective and his secretary, Sturges was, himself, perfectly content to be working through each issue one at a time. Quite unlike him was the youngest of them present, the newly minted eighteen year old's movements antsy when she finally cracked and went over to the detective's desk, attempting to sweep up one of the files on it to read. The detective was faster.
"That case won't be interesting to you," Nick said with a smirk. "But nice try, Ada."
"Did you recognise the guy running Acadia?" She burst out, unable to contain her curiosity any longer. "I told my dad and Preston I think the two of you could have left the Institute together, but –"
"If the Institute trashed us both at the same time, I think I'd remember it," Nick said, any hint of levity leaving him. "Guess I shouldn't be surprised they made two similar prototypes, or that they trashed us. They certainly don't care about what happens to what they've made after they decide we're no longer useful to them. Makes sense why one would build up a refuge for synths, come to think of it."
"I'm not sure of his intentions, though," Ellie said, startling when a socket crackled and briefly sparked. "I can't say I envy you, Sturges. How do you do this without constantly freaking out?"
"Get used to it, after the first few times," He replied, unscrewing the wall cover. "Think some of the wires need to be patched up or replaced. When was the last time you had someone with tools and some old fashioned handy training in here?"
"Fifteen or ten years ago," Nick chuckled, looking to Ellie. "You were what? Twenty five at the time?"
"Revealing a woman's age, are you?" She rolled her eyes with a small smile. "It was twelve years ago, and, yes, I was twenty five at the time. I'd just started working for you and thought I would get fired because I thought my spilling coffee caused the electrical issues."
"Definitely wasn't the coffee," Nick winked. "I knew it wasn't your fault, Perky. I stopped doing upkeep around the office after I was no longer Diamond City's unofficial mechanic."
"Well, at least the first issue was quick and easy to resolve," Sturges said, beginning to examine the wires. "Surprised you didn't know smoke detectors need to be replaced every ten or so years."
"I assumed the batteries were defective and that's why it was on the fritz," Nick said. "It's not something I think about every day. But, back to the case," He turned to Ellie. "You said you're not sure of his intentions? What makes you say that? Your judgement's usually pretty damn good, all things considered."
"From what Kasumi told Ada – only person she was really comfortable talking to for longer than a few minutes – it sounded as though she was lured to Acadia," Ellie sat down at her desk and wrapped the shawl she had draped over the back of its chair around herself. "That's the theory Kenji believes, at any rate, and I'm worried he's right."
"Telling her she's a synth replacement certainly tracks with that," Nick grimly remarked. "Hearing that didn't sit well with me either."
"It's what makes me worried for her," Preston said with a shake of the head. "He – Dima is what everyone calls him – was reluctant to tell us anything at all about Acadia. I thought it was understandable at first, knowing what the Institute might do if they find them, but I can't help but wonder why he took so long to observe us before telling us anything more than vague assurances. It almost felt as if he were conducting an experiment and we were his subjects."
"I'd like to be able to disagree, but all of that's true," Derek tiredly pushed up his glasses. "We were observing him too, of course, but the feeling of something being…questionable while we were there was hard to shake."
"Kasumi says she thinks she's a synth because a lot of her early childhood is hazy and she has strange nightmares where she gets jolted over and over in the back of the head by mysterious people in a bright, clinical room," Ada said, sitting down on the floor, leaning against the wall with her arms crossed. "But a lot of people have fuzzy early memories and get bad nightmares. I don't think she's a synth. I think she got bored and lonely out in the middle of butt ass nowhere and took the first excuse she could find to go exploring."
"Wouldn't be the first time a bored teenager went wandering to dangerous parts of the Commonwealth on their own," Nick sighed. "I've seen plenty of cases like it, and it's always a fifty fifty toss up as to whether or not the case is resolved with a happy ending. Knowing she's alive and in a safe location is good, but it's not the best place for her to be. If they've convinced her she's a synth, then they could probably convince her of just about anything."
"Think it might be something of a cult?" Preston looked at the aged detective in surprise. "I thought she had convinced herself she's a synth. If you're right they coaxed her into it…that's not a good sign."
"No, it's not," Nick agreed with a frown. "I'll be going out to speak with Kenji and Rei myself in a few weeks. Meant to go sooner, but he's become convinced someone is watching them and me going could put him and Rei on some sort of list. My original plan would have had me leave in mid-March, but Kenji insisted it would be bad luck. The 'Ides Of March' and all. He's always been a superstitious man, and, if he were anyone else, I'd say to hell with it and go out there anyways."
Ada eyed him curiously. "How come?"
"Because, if we want any hope at learning from him and Rei why Kasumi may have left, I need to have his complete trust," Nick replied. "I'd do it either way out of respect for him and our previous work together, but he probably won't be willing to get into the nitty gritty about what might have preceded Kasumi's sudden urge to leave with anyone he doesn't have a long rap sheet of trust with. We know Kasumi is safe where she is, whether it's the healthiest environment to be in or not, and if it takes time to get the bigger picture then it'll take time."
"Long way of telling me to be patient," Ada muttered, sulking a little. "But alright."
"Was planning on helping you all out in the meantime, while I wait on Kenji," Nick brushed her comment off and turned to Preston, Sturges, and Derek. "You still planning on retaking the old Minutemen base of operations at the Castle?"
"Yep," Sturges said, temporarily looking up from his work. "We've mostly finalised our plans. A pretty decent sized crew of us are going to meet up with the group currently surveying the site and clean out whatever…animal infestations probably built up in there and, then, get the old radio signal running again. It'll do us a hell of a lot of good if we can pull it off."
"Thinking of joining us?" Preston smiled when Nick nodded. "Appreciate it, Nick. Getting the radio back up and running to allow us to have a better communications network is the practical side, but reclaiming the site should tell everyone we're here to stay."
"Will send a message to the Brotherhood, that's for sure," Nick said with a slight smirk which quickly faded. "One they need to hear, too, by all accounts."
"What they've become is truly disheartening," Derek said, biting back fury. "The level they have sunk to is horrific. Lyons was by no means a perfect man or leader, but he would never have condoned even a fraction of what they have done."
"Didn't think you could make me feel sorry for the Institute, but they managed it," Nick darkly noted. "Much as I don't like the thought of getting into bed with the Institute for any reason, the enemy of my enemy is my friend."
"I definitely got more questions than answers about the Institute," Sturges said. "Always had a lot, same as anyone else, but this really threw a wrench into things."
"It's made things feel all the more complicated," Preston said before sighing. "I'm sticking with the stance I've had from the beginning. If the Brotherhood hurt people in the Commonwealth – but especially in the settlements we're duty bound to protect – then we will do what is necessary to protect the people and nothing more. The same applies to the Institute."
Nick smiled. "And that nuance is exactly why you're the right man to be leading the Minutemen. You're a good man, Preston, and doing the Commonwealth proud."
The Commonwealth
April the 19th, 2289
13:31
"It's an old consumer electronics gallery. I know this is where our Brothers saw the…hastily made robots, but I just can't fathom why they would be here."
"If you're looking for material to work with in making something like that, it would not be a bad place to start scavenging."
"Which would make sense if any of the reports indicated it's the robots doing the scavenging."
Looking between each other and their surroundings, keeping their voices low, Knight Laurent George Rhys and Scribe Janet Isla Haylen stood outside the doors in wait, their commanding officer doing a final sweep inside the building. For the Knight, antsy to get on the move, the wait was growing tiresome and agonising. For the Scribe, it was concerning. She kept close track of each minute passing by on her watch. Seven minutes. The building is fairly large, but, if Danse isn't back by fifteen past… Gunfire began ringing out, and the Scribe and the Knight drew their weapons, only to share a confused look when the sound suddenly stopped entirely. His gun already at the ready, now, Rhys took a minute to examine and reload it. Less sure of their surroundings and situation, Haylen adjusted her bags on her shoulders. The sound of scraping metal took her by surprise but soon eased her concerns when she turned and saw her superior exit the former electronics gallery, a few neatly packed bags in one hand. Dutiful as ever, though less than thrilled to have to do any work he felt below him and for Scribes, the Knight took the bags from the Paladin and strung them over his shoulders, retaining his weapons at the ready. Few words exchanged, the Paladin, the Knight, and the Scribe returned to the road.
Turning southeast and picking up a steady pace, the Paladin halted, ordering the Scribe and the Knight to do the same upon hearing the sounds of gunfire and metal. It was then, when they heard the garbled shouts of the same message they had listened to one time too many, they picked up their pace. A few rusted through cars and toppled street lamps, a few trees, and a minute and a half of running through thick smoke later, they skidded to a halt and began to open fire at the scene. Furious as he had been when they attacked their primary military installation, the Knight left no room for hesitation and pushed into the centre of the din. Firing and kicking a few of the smaller jankily constructed robots down, disappointment soon found him as it grew clearer and clearer that it was not much of a fight. More cautious than her Brother, the Scribe swept her way behind what, at a glance, appeared to be the smouldering remains of a campsite. She knelt down, focusing her scopes and catching her targets in her sights before firing. One exploded, then another, then another. The Paladin took a similar approach to his Scribe, only stepping out of his defencive position on the back side of a tall and proud oak tree when all of the robots were broken apart on the ground and destroyed beyond repair.
The noise and the repeating message finally stopped and, satisfied at the robots' destruction if a little disappointed at how little effort they had needed to put into the fight, the Knight, the Scribe, and the Paladin began to sweep the scene.
"Looks like a few caravaners," Haylen noted, her stomach sinking when she took a better look at her surroundings. "I suppose they no longer need their supplies."
"Collect them," Rhys ordered. "We will make much better use of them than any of the lowly scavengers in this place."
"Lowly scavengers? These were my friends."
The Scribe took a step back as she turned around, drawing her weapon only to frown upon seeing it was no human whom had spoken but, instead, a robot.
"What are you?" She kept her gun pointed at the grimy, blue robot. "State your business, unit."
The robot stopped moving. "Unit?"
"Fucker," Rhys said under his breath, approaching Haylen and the robot. "Are you deluded and programmed to believe you are human?"
"I am not human. I am Ada," The robot replied, stepping back itself when the Paladin began to walk towards the Scribe and the Knight. "Power armour?" It said upon registering the appearance of the Paladin and the Knight. "Although my friends were adept with technology, power armour was never something they were capable of utilising."
"If these were your 'friends,' then they clearly were not very adept with technology if they were taken out so easily by some poorly constructed robots," Danse narrowly observed the robot. "Tell us what you are, or you will be immediately destroyed."
"I am Ada. My programmed voice is female, which may make it easier for you to refer to me," The robot replied. "I am a modified assaultron, created by my friend Jackson. He is unfortunately among the dead before you. I have failed him, Liza, Zoe, and Shades. It is quite regrettable."
"Proctor Quinlan may be interested in this…robot," Rhys whispered to Danse. "Should we investigate it?"
"Yes," Danse said, returning his gaze to the robot. "What is your business in the Commonwealth?"
"My friends and I were caravaners, mostly selling raw materials and repairing broken or otherwise damaged robots," Ada said promptly. "I recognise the symbol in the centre of your power armour's chest plate. You are a members of the Brotherhood Of Steel. My files indicate you collect technology. I hope that does not make me a target."
Haylen raised an eyebrow. "You know of us? How? And why do you harbour that opinion?"
"My friends and I travelled from what used to be the state of Florida to come to the Commonwealth. We came across many Brotherhood troops in the process," Ada said. "Our past encounters with your organisation were never good. I found it strange to find you here. Why travel all this way just to start a war?"
"To save humanity from itself," Rhys irritably replied. "Something they do not appreciate."
"If you are here to aid the people, I must request to join you. I can no longer protect my friends but, if you are fighting the robots created by the Mechanist, a human no doubt, I should like to aid you in that endeavour," Ada continued upon hearing no protests. "You do not have to worry if I do so. I have no problems assisting with the destruction of my own kind. Perhaps if more robots possessed my mercy algorithm, we wouldn't be forced to destroy them, but we are not in such a lucky position."
"What do you know about this 'Mechanist?'" Danse suspiciously probed. "I am ordering you to tell us all you know about this Mechanist and what exactly you are. If you could be useful to us, we will consider letting you accompany us. This Mechanist is a shared enemy, if only because they are a nuisance."
"I am afraid I do not know much," Ada said. "All I can provide you with is mild intelligence on the matter as we did not learn much of this Mechanist; we last saw a group of the Mechanist's robots in the immediate area around the pre-War General Atomics factory. You may find information there which will lead you to the Mechanist. I will follow and assist with your permission."
Haylen considered that. "Can you provide of us anything else of use?"
"Yes," Ada informed her. "I can provide you with some information. My friends were quite capable and extensively modified me over the past several years. To do so they used a robotics workbench which allowed them to create and modify me or any robot given enough resources. But, if at all possible, I must accompany you if you are to put an end to the Mechanist. I seek the opportunity to prevent the Mechanist's robots from destroying and taking further innocent lives."
"If you are to accompany us, you will obey my every order or be destroyed," Danse flatly replied. "Do you understand, unit?"
"Affirmative. Thank you. I wish I had the proper vocal registry to express my gratitude for this decision," Ada responded. "This is everyone's fight, and it is good you are taking it seriously. As long as these robots roam free, people will die and the Mechanist will only grow more powerful. A mind as dangerous as this Mechanist should not control such power."
"That is certain," Rhys said coldly. "If Paladin Danse permits you to travel with us, then you shall but heed his warning. We do not have time for mercy."
"Registered and noted," Ada told him. "I will respect your demands. Stopping this Mechanist is more important than my feelings of discomfort in surrendering part of my autonomy."
"A robot is malfunctioning if it refuses to obey orders," Danse said, eyeing Ada critically. "But I will permit this…experiment for now."
"Thank you. It is clear, now, the only certainty is that these robots of the Mechanist's bring only death despite what comes from the eyebot broadcasts falsely claiming to be championing peace and justice."
Haylen uncomfortably looked between Danse and Rhys, letting out a tired sigh when she realised they were all feeling the same way.
"Which General Atomics factory were the units you and your…friends seen at?" Haylen said, pushing down the mite of curiosity among the discomfort. "There are several in the Commonwealth and its immediately adjacent regions."
"Of course," Ada said promptly. "The factory is near a former fish packaging facility called 'Four Leaf.'"
"Fascinating," Danse said flatly. "Very well. We will…make for the location shortly. Do not disobey us."
Diamond City
April the 21st, 2289
21:12
When his father had told him he was going to meet his godmother for the first time, he had expected her to be soft spoken, prim, and proper like his father's special friend.
He had not expected her to be a pale, bony, bespectacled woman with brightly coloured hair, laying on the floor atop a few blankets and staring at a ceiling fan.
Perfectly unfazed, five year old Duncan MacCready ran over to say hello, briefly startling her. When she saw who had come in, however, she hesitantly pushed herself up and sat back against the wall, wrapping one of the blankets she had been laying on around and over her shoulders. She swept up her cat into her arms when the small creature walked by, and seemed to perk up a little as her cat began purring and curling into her when she began to pet it. Duncan sat down, his legs crisscrossed, and stared at her and the little tortoiseshell cat. Her large, thick rimmed and sparkly red glasses began sliding down her face a little, but stopped when their beaded chain caught in her hair, much messier and longer than it had looked when she was laid out on the floor. The little boy's father nervously sat down on the edge of one of the couches in the first floor over the Branson family's large, three story house, having forgotten his childhood friend's low times. Netta said it's called 'manic depressive' which I think is what I've heard Lissy and her parents say before. More worried for her wife than anything else, Piper came over and sat down beside her, giving her a brief, soft kiss before wrapping an arm tightly around her. Cait, never one comfortable with much silence in a room, bobbed back and forth on her feet. The former cage fighter let out an excited squeal when she saw a pair of little black kittens come out from under the couch, knocking MacCready over when she all but ran over to pick one of them up.
"You're so precious, ain't you, little fella?" Cait grinned, her hands unusually delicate as she held and pet the kitten. "Even me arse can't resist how cute you are!"
"Please don't swear in front of my son," MacCready said, rubbing at his head while he pulled himself back up onto his feet. "He may turn six in a little over a month, but he's not old enough to hear things like that."
Duncan giggled. "Hancock swears lots and lots. He said his favourite word is –"
"Duncan, buddy, please don't remind me of how I sounded at your age," MacCready said, sighing when the other kitten began trying to climb up his leg and latched onto the lowest hem of his duster. "Jealous of Cait holding your friend?"
"They're a bonded pair," Lissy said, still petting her cat, her voice unusually quiet. "Lana found them in...during a storm a few weeks ago. Dr. Sun tested them and gave them the proper…cat vaccinations I think that's what they're called, like the Brotherhood did for Sunflower when we found her as a kitten in…2281, I think it was."
"Sunflower is a good girl," Piper said, reaching over with her free hand to tickle the purring cat in her wife's arms. "And, Mack, if you're wondering, the kittens have names. Better names than you or Cait would come up with."
MacCready rolled his eyes. "Then what's this one's name?" He said, awkwardly and delicately unhooking the kitten's claws from his duster and picking it up. "Looks like a Grognak to me."
"Her name is Spooky," Lissy corrected him though she faintly smiled. "Her brother's name is Cookie."
"You're a good boy, Cookie," Cait said, swearing when the kitten bit her, quickly setting him down on the sofa. "But also a little shite, aren't you? No biting. No one bites Cait. Unless she asks them to, of course."
MacCready, Piper, and Lissy stared at her, caught between horror, disgust, and amusement. Duncan simply hummed to himself, happily watching his godmother pet the cat called Sunflower.
"On that pleasant note," MacCready said, carefully setting Spooky in Duncan's hands, his little boy's eyes wide. "Have fun with your godmother and her cats. If you get hungry, I'm sure she can tell you where that is too."
"You going to be alright if we head on down to the Dugout?" Piper sighed when her wife nodded and tightly embraced her before standing up heading towards the door. "It'll be alright, Lis," She said, giving her one last gentle kiss. "I'll be back soon."
With one last half heartedly stern whisper to his son about behaving himself, Robert Joseph MacCready turned to head for the door after Piper, only to be nearly knocked over by Cait again. He bit back the urge to swear, reminding himself she was probably at least a little high if not also a little drunk and not wanting to contradict himself in front of her. All but kicking the door back open, Cait waved at Lissy, Duncan, and the cats before impatiently tapping her feet against the base of the door. She relented when MacCready and Piper stepped through the door themselves, and slammed it shut with her foot nearly the second she could. For her part, and more than motivated to get down to the Dugout before the ominously forming clouds could start dumping rain on them, Piper Courtney Wright all but slid down the bannisters going to and from the various levels in the upper stands. She only began to walk again when she reached the top of the steps going down into the largest of Diamond City's many markets. Her good mood not assuaged, Catherine Savannah Felgate nearly chased MacCready down to the market, still chasing him when they caught up to Piper and turned the corner towards the Dugout Inn.
Taking a few steps back when the former gunner and the former cage fighter tore past her, Piper laughed, crossing her arms with an amused smile on her face, leisurely walking behind them. Satisfied she had outrun the former gunner, Cait opened the first of the two doors to the Dugout Inn with a flourish no less than a few seconds after crossing the threshold down into the establishment's out of doors seating. MacCready feigned annoyance with her and adjusted his hat atop his head before heading into the Dugout, unsurprised to find the second door already wide open for the night. He tipped his hat at Vadim when he approached the bar and set his gun down on the seat to his left for Piper, well aware Cait could handle herself and throw anyone who dared take her spot off. He took a look back after ordering his whiskey, smirking when Piper sauntered in, Cait only a few paces ahead of her. The writer gave him a grateful look when she sat down to his left the second he took his gun back and rested it at his feet. Cait hopped up into the seat to his right and jokingly shot finger guns at Vadim. The jovial bartender returned the same gesture before handing Piper a stout beer and beginning to mix a vampire's kiss for the former cage fighter.
"The night is young," Vadim hummed. "It's going to be a fun time, no?"
"Wish it would be, Vadim, but we've got to…figure out how to deal with something serious," MacCready sighed. "Figured we might as well be drinking."
"Makes everything better," Cait said, elbowing him in the arm. "We're going to figure this whole bloody thing out. Those cunts ain't getting off easy."
"Listen to her," Piper added, pausing to take a few sips of her beer. "Besides, they're both safe tonight."
"I know, but…" MacCready fell silent. "Knowing Duncan and Annette are safe now doesn't make it any better. He's playing with cats, Annette is having dinner with Nora in the Taphouse, better them than us. I…can't believe, until I found her, I was angry with her, assumed she'd been irresponsible with Duncan when she really had…she kept him hidden from them, and they nearly killed her for it. Because of me."
"Mack, those assholes trying to kill your son and your girlfriend is not because of you," Piper said, setting a sisterly hand to his shoulder. "They're psychopaths, cut and dry, and get pleasure out of death, torture, pain…"
"Those shite heads are just a smidge less fucked up than Kellogg," Cait said, twirling her drink with her fingers when Vadim handed it to her. "And only because they haven't lived as long. They ain't going to get to be as old as that son of a bitch, either."
"Sounds like some people who need their heads…knocked together is the expression, is it not?" Vadim smiled when Piper nodded. "Well, then they need their heads knocked together. What do you know about them? I can help, if you like."
"You'd help me?" MacCready said, briefly surprised. "I…thanks, Vadim."
"Of course!" He said, taking out a dishtowel with a flourish. "Now, what is happening?"
"Goes back a few years," MacCready said, reaching into his coat pockets and pulling out his lighter and a pack of cigarettes. "I arrived in the Commonwealth with Duncan…around December of 2285, right after he first got sick. I'd been one of the gunners for a while before then but had taken off after…after his mother died. I went to Goodneighbour after hearing it was relatively safe and affordable. Daisy had just put the apartment next to hers up for rent, and…well, she took pity on me."
"She's a sweet lady," Cait remarked. "Helped me drag you to Amari when I found you after –"
"Please don't remind me," MacCready paused to light a cigarette. "So," He turned back to Vadim. "She took care of Duncan while I was out on jobs, having taken up with the gunners again. They were looking for sharpshooters, and the ones here had heard about me from some of their other bands farther south. It was fine for about a year, and the caps were fantastic, but I remembered way too quickly that I never fit in and couldn't stomach leaving Duncan alone for too long. I was terrified for him."
"As any parent would be," Piper said. "He's your kid, of course you worry about him."
"Well, when I made a clean break and started flying solo, I cut a deal with Hancock and was able to set up in the back of the Third Rail," MacCready said, taking a draw on his cig. "Knew people could find me there if they needed my services, and the folks in Goodneighbour don't tend to ask many questions but, about a year and a half ago, give or take, two of them – Winlock and Barnes – started to threaten me. I was trying to get as many caps as I could to try and buy them out, especially after Duncan got better, but..."
"Didn't think they'd do this?" Vadim grimly surmised. "They're wrong. Gross and wrong."
"Putting it lightly," MacCready said, anger shaking his voice. "I wasn't even sure if I could buy them out, but I don't care about that anymore. They nearly killed the woman I…and they tried to kill my son. This is war, I don't care what it costs. I wouldn't ask you guys to help me if I didn't trust you, but I think…I think them and their small army of gunners need to be paid a little visit and put an end to them, before they realise what's going on, and before they can…"
"We're all in, Mack," Piper said, smiling a little when Cait and Vadim both nodded. "They're going to pay, and they sure as hell aren't going to be expecting it."