The Commonwealth
May the 16th, 2289
8:37

The sight of nothing but dead gunner after dead gunner in the lobby alone of the former global headquarters of Greentech Genetics Incorporated was enough to give Nora Jacqueline Norwich hope they were, in fact, in the right place.

The rest of the building being littered with the bodies of gunners and the frantic shouts of, she suspected, their leader through the building's PA system quickly proved her right.

Feeling sick, Nora ran, anxiety grabbing her every time she reached a dead end. Confusing. It was the only way to describe the near labyrinthic layout of the decaying building. Every room in the place felt worse than the last; old papers, data, office supplies, and discarded weapons and bullet casings littered the floors and desks. Broken computers were almost as abundant as computers that had melted through, and the handful of working computers were covered in dust and grime. The inconsistent lighting throughout the facility, too, was disorienting. The deeper they went into it, the more she tried not to think about what research might have been done there. The few clues left on decaying sticky notes and lab reports were unnerving enough, and something about them brought questions to the forefront of her mind which were far too similar to those she had about Vault-Tec. About why the things done were necessary. About whom it was got hurt and whom it was that could have possibly stood to benefit from it.

Struggling to keep going as she fought to catch her breath when they reached another stairwell, she tried to count the levels of the building they must have already climbed to. Realising, among the chaos, decay, rubble, and death around them that they had only managed to reach the third floor, Nora let out an irritated cry when she slammed her right shoulder into the doorframe of one of the old offices as she pushed past the mess they had been struggling to navigate through. Helping her through, and still a bit too giddy with her new toy, Cait swung her AR-18 onto her back and, though the woman was a bit taller than her, heaved Nora through the half collapsed doorway and into the hall. Catching the fury in the former lawyer's eyes when she dusted herself off and sent Glory a dark look, Nick Valentine stopped short, briefly feeling uneasy. The feeling did not subside when he saw the almost flippantly amused look on the face of the enigmatic agent who called himself Deacon. Still, they kept going, turning down a few more corridors before reaching a part of the floor above them, partially caved in, climbable to get up to the next. As soon as they were all the way up onto the fourth floor, they kept going again.

Letting out a sigh of relief upon seeing the open air corridor connecting both sides of the floor together, Nora took a minute to ensure her gun had been reloaded before firing on a few turrets that looked somewhere between broken and barely functional. After a few shots and feeling sure they were disarmed, she quickly made her way across the open air corridor with Cait never more than a few steps behind her. Much more cautious and feeling paranoid at the sight of more dead or nearly dead gunners splayed out on the floor at almost every turn, Nick tried not to dwell on the discomfort. Glory and Deacon, just ahead of him, seemed well composed and methodical. Not hesitating to risk leaving them behind when she found another rickety, makeshift ramp, Nora kept running under the influence of anger and pulled herself up to the next floor, only swearing when she nearly slipped just before clawing herself the rest of the way up. Cait swore when she tripped over the body of another dead gunner only a few steps after making her way up behind the former lawyer, and, irritated, kicked it down to the floor below before dusting herself off and pausing a moment, surprised in the change in their surroundings. Noticing one side of the room in the, apparent, old laboratory had hastily constructed and retrofitted equipment, she let out a small, dark laugh.

"Guess we know what they were doing in here," She remarked, catching up to Nora. "And here I was thinking an old pre-War corporation would have frowned upon people turning any part of their facility into a meth lab."

Nora managed half a laugh. "I wish I could say I'm surprised," She said, reloading her gun before turning to see if they were alone. Seeing Nick was about halfway up the uneven ramp, she sighed, pushing open the doors to the room and making for another, long, open air corridor. "I hate this place."

"Don't blame you," Cait replied, startling when the sounds of gunfire began ringing out from above them when they began down the open air corridor. "It's a bloody mess. Expect that with raiders, sure, but gunners usually have some level shame raiders don't."

"Would be nice if it were easier to navigate," Nora muttered, all but sliding into the next corridor off the open air one and looking, even briefly, a bit relieved to find a stairwell going up and intact. "If I didn't want to murder the damn thing before, I sure as hell do now."

"And I'll be buying you drinks after we've got the son of a bitch's shiny little chip in your hands," Cait said cheerfully, hoping to make her smile as they started up the stairs. "You'll have fucking earnt it."

Pushing their way up the stairs, their breath growing heavier with every step they crossed, Nora suddenly snatched Cait by the shoulders, struggling to catch her breath and nearly throwing her down the stairs in the process. Letting out a yell, Cait went rarely silent and found them staring down, around the corner and farther up the stairs, pineapple grenades hanging down from the ceilings above. Reaching for their guns, the two of them turned around suddenly upon hearing heavy footsteps quickly approaching behind them. Seeing it to be only Nick and, soon behind him, Deacon and Glory, they hesitantly lowered them before whispering to him about what was ahead. Taken aback, the aged detective stepped around them and up the stairs, slowly making his way up. He removed his gloves, exposing his mechanical hands, and, one by one, carefully removed the fuse and put the pins back into the grenades. One after another. Nora quickly followed suit, disarming the grenades with him and setting them down as far out of the way as possible. Cait let out a sigh of relief when they reached the top and didn't find any more grenades. The three of them picking up the pace again, they ran down the corridor at the top of the stairs, getting as far from the grenades as possible, slowing down only when they reached a set of large open automatic doors, held open by broken laboratory carts, on the left. Wary of the chance of finding more armed surprises, they hesitantly entered, Cait sauntering right down the middle and Nora going left and Nick going right.

Catching sight of a laser optic tripwire, Nora clicked her fingers towards Cait, pointing at the sight just ahead of the former cage fighter the moment Cait turned to her. Cait swore under her breath and slowly crouched down just a foot or two away from the tripwire the second she was crossed over the unevenly nailed down wood boards covering up a hole in the floor. Hearing the sounds of scuttering and movement, Nick quickly reloaded his gun but released some of the tension in his shoulders when he saw it was only Cait. He let go of some of the tension rising in his shoulders, only for some of it to quickly come back at the sight of two more gunners, dead on the floor and hidden behind the desks just past the tripwire. More of it, still, came back when he heard the sounds of two short, quick fires from Cait's AR-18, once again easing a little when he noticed she had forcibly disabled the tripwire. Standing up a bit too quickly, Cait started swearing when one of her knees popped, accidentally jamming her back against the desk on her right, eliciting more angered swears from her. She turned and scowled when she heard a faint bit of smug laughter, seeing Glory and Deacon entering the room, and childishly stuck her tongue out at them.

Nora, paying them little mind, pried the door just past the tripwire open, jamming her shotgun in between its panels to keep it propped open enough to get her foot through before finally getting it open wide enough to step all the way through. To her disbelief, when she stepped through into the room the doors had concealed, it was well lit, almost as though the lightbulbs in the fluorescents were, albeit grimy, new. A short staircase leading up to a lift was free of bodies of more dead gunners, though, out of the corners of her eyes, she saw a few splayed out at the top of two other staircases branching upwards to the left and right away from the lift. Her hands a bit clammy, she tightened them around her shotgun and ran up the stairs to the lift, jamming the button to go up with her elbow. When it chimed and a light went off declaring its impending ascent, she shoved her way into it before the doors were all the way open, barely noticing the others were with her until Cait and Nick stepped into the lift only a few seconds after her and, holding her back, Deacon waited with Glory, speaking with her in low, hushed tones. The doors closed without them, and the lift quickly ascended, pausing thrice and declaring its stops.

Eighth floor – Molecular Genetics and Genealogy Research Laboratories.

Ninth floor – Commonwealth Institute Of Technology Microbiology and Genetics Graduate Studies Laboratories.

Tenth floor – Greentech Genetics International Data Centre.

The doors opened to the sounds of shouts, gunfire, and raised voices up a short set of stairs and to the right into a short corridor. Her heart rate spiking, a knot forming in her ribs and down to her stomach, Nora holstered her shotgun and took out her revolver, briefly closing her eyes and taking in a deep breath to try and keep herself calm when she looked down at the date engraved on the barrel. 29. May. 2288. Thirteen days. Thirteen days and it would be a year since, finally, the barely human Conrad Kellogg had died. Since he had been killed. Flicking the safety off and ensuring it was loaded, Nora slowly made her way up the short flight of stairs and down the corridor, feeling a little more sick to her stomach the closer she got to the noise and the voice, she was sure, belonging to the Courser. Step after step, closer and closer, and she only paused when she reached the opening to the first, apparently largest room on the floor, lingering behind the corner to take a look into the room. She felt tension start to crawl over her body when she caught sight of a few living gunners, albeit tied up and restrained on their knees. Hearing their footsteps coming closer and getting a glimpse at their target, Nora reached behind her and snatched Cait's wrist, holding her back to take a look at who – what, she told herself – they had come for.

"That's a Courser alright," Nick swore under his breath. "Come to think of it, I can't quite remember the last time I saw one up close."

Cait snorted. "Downstairs and just a few minutes ago."

"…Tell me the password."

"…I'll help you find a way in but, listen, we took the girl fair and square. All we want is a little compensation in return for our services."

"…You are in no position to negotiate."

"And neither are you."

Nothing short of instinctual rage slamming into her, Nora darted into the room and, too fast for the Courser to register her snapping or movement, lunged on him and tackled him to the ground. No more than a few seconds after she knocked him over, however, he was back on his feet and pushed her to the side, albeit dropping his own gun in the process. Sweeping it up, Nick threw the weapon down a small, open shaft near the centre of the room, ducking out of the way of the Courser when it began to run at him. Adrenaline sinking in, Cait sauntered into the room with her AR-18 and opened fire on the Courser with no hesitation. Pulling herself off the ground and keeping her revolver still tightly in her hands, Nora shook herself out and aimed at the fast moving Courser, firing at his chest. One. Two. Three. Four. Five. Six. Reload. One. Two. Three. Four. Five. Six. Going and going, she let out a short scream when the Courser shifted targets and started towards her, ripping out a knife and stabbing it harshly in her side, piercing through her leather jacket and shirt and through to her skin. Not risking removing it, the former lawyer slid out of the way when she saw Cait locking the sights on her AR-18 on the Courser's back, opening fire in quick succession.

It turned around, ready to attack her.

She quickly began to fire on it, its back turned.

Cait did not relent on firing her new favourite toy, only sparce seconds where she reloaded it giving the Courser much chance to react. It charged on her but slipped on some of the spattered blood of a few of the gunners before falling to its knees and struggling to get up, stealing a gun from one of the gunners and shooting them dead, still in their restraints. Not wasting the chance, Cait raised her aim from its chest to its throat and pulled the trigger. Blood began to spurt out from the Courser just above its solar plexus, and any shouts, grunts, or words from it ceased the longer she kept firing. Adjusting her aim once she saw a small hole starting to form in the Courser's neck, Cait narrowed her eyes and focused the best she could. The sounds of garbling and gurgling from the Courser grew weaker and, soon enough, it was keeled over and dead. Letting out a sigh of relief, Nora leaned back against the wall, sliding down against it and pulling her knees up to her chest, feeling about ready to cry and trying to ignore the dull throbbing of the knife in her side. His foot having gotten caught between two of the gunners he had shot when one of them had managed to get their hands free long enough to get a gun, Nick took in the scene, a bit unsettled at the sight of the dead Courser. Startling him, Nora, and Cait, the sounds of a woman shouting for help broke through the uneasy silence. Seeing her trapped in an old observation room, Nick ran over to the door and began working to get it open.

"Give me a minute, and I'll get you out of there," He called out to her, hoping she could hear as he approached the computer terminal on the wall next to the room she was entrapped in. "Those sons of bitches sure as hell didn't make you feel comfortable, I suspect."

A few more minutes, the computer whinging, and the doors sprung open.

"Oh, thank…" The woman paused, gasping when the man who released her stepped into the room. "Are…you…are –"

"Seeing as I was one of the people killing the son of bitch, I wouldn't jump to thinking I'm on his side," Nick wryly said with a faint smile. "Sorry they brought you into this mess," He said, dropping his amusement. "If I might be allowed to ask, what were you doing here?"

"I…I came looking for supplies," She said, her face flushing in embarrassment as she followed him out of the room. "It would have gone fine if I hadn't been captured by these…mercenaries."

"Certainly not the friendly type," Cait remarked, glancing up at her when she saw her and Nick step out of the room. "Don't mind me," She said cheerfully, taking out her twin switchblades, kneeling down next to the dead Courser and snatching its head. "Just got a little bit of a job to do."

The woman gagged when she saw Cait plunge one of the knives through the Courser's left ear, giving Nora a grateful look and an awkward wave when the former lawyer stepped in front of her to shield her from having to witness it.

"He…he was after me," The woman uncomfortably told her, reaching out to shake Nora's hand, much to her surprise. "I…I appreciate you helping me. I should have known better but I really thought I was safe."

"Well, you are now," Nora sighed and holstered her revolver when the woman began anxiously looking around. "Do you have a name?"

"Do I what?" The woman stared at her for a few seconds before nodding. "Oh. Yes, I do…uh…my…my Institute designation is K1-98. But I prefer Jenny, so I…yes, I'm a synth. If you hadn't already guessed. I should have known they'd send a Courser after me, but I just…I just didn't think he'd find me so fast."

"So you recently left?" Nora said, raising an eyebrow and uncomfortably clutching at her side with the knife lodged in it. "What happened?"

"I…I probably shouldn't say," She said, hanging her head in shame. "I can't believe I let this happen."

"It ain't your fault," Cait said as she continued to pry open the Courser's head with her twin switchblades. "They did send the hellhounds after you."

Jenny nervously laughed. "I think a Courser is slightly worse than a hellhound."

"Then the good thing for you is this one's dead," Cait hummed. "Whenever you're ready to get out of here, just follow me, lassie. Hanging around here's a death sentence."

"Yeah, I'm getting that sense," Jenny let out a yelp when she saw two more figures emerge from the corridor behind Nora and Cait, only looking a little less startled when their movements were not threatening. "I…I'll be getting out of here, but I'm…I'm going to look for supplies again before heading out."

"At least let us get you somewhere safe," Deacon said, holstering his gun and holding up his hands above his head to show he was disarmed. "Last thing we want is for you to get only a few more hours away from the Institute bastards."

Jenny hesitated. "The Commonwealth is unforgiving. I should do this myself."

"No, actually…" Nora paused, startled for a few seconds by herself. "Look, there's a town a few miles away that's safe for…well, pretty much anyone. You don't have to accept anything else from me but…I can't imagine there's anything good in store in going back to the Institute."

Jenny eyed her closely for a minute but, finally, slowly nodded.

"There's something dark about you but…" She nervously chewed at her lips. "Fine. But let's make it quick. Where are we going?"

Nora gave her a half smile. "Goodneighbour."

"Goodneighbour?" Jenny weakly giggled. "Guess a town with that name can't be too bad. And…thanks again, I guess. It…it means a lot."

"Don't think much on it," Cait said, finally yanking what she was sure to be the Courser's chip out of its head. "You're going to be just fine."

The Prydwen
May the 18th, 2289
11:00

"Thus, it is my conclusion that, despite this android's unsettling characteristics, we are capable of putting it down if the need arises and therefore believe it is the best course of action to work with it in order to continue our investigation into this so-called 'Mechanist' with the most efficiency and least extraneous siphoning of resources as possible."

"Understood, Paladin. Please, take your seat. You as well Scribe, Knight. At ease."

Careful not to show her relief, Scribe Janet Haylen took her seat in between her direct superior and her closest field colleague who, the same as ever, maintained a perfectly neutral face before their Paladin and, now, the Elder and Proctors. Sat across from them, Proctor Marshall Quinlan observed them closely, taking note of every movement they made from the way the Knight tightly folded his hands together in his lap – the only hint at his anxiety – to the calm and expectant way the Paladin looked at the Elder at the head of the table as he examined the physical copy of their report. Her public presence important to her as ever, Proctor Mischelle Ingram did her best to ignore the discomfort the tightness of her power armour frame on her left hip, irritated at knowing she would have to adjust it once again. The only one visibly pleased by the prompt presence of the Paladin, Knight, and Scribe, Proctor Keith Teagan offered the Paladin a hint of a smile which he returned in kind. When the Elder finally found what he was looking for in the report, he set down the file and looked appraisingly over them. Satisfied by the demeanours of the Paladin, the Knight, and the Scribe in particular, finally, he spoke.

"To be forthright, I cannot honestly say I'm particularly enthused at the thought of any of our Brothers and Sisters having extended exposure to a…machine as fickle as the one you came across," Maxson began. "But I also cannot overlook the potential benefits of doing so."

"Your report states that you, at the android's request, installed the radar device you harvested from what, supposedly, was a pre-War abomination formerly under the Mechanist's control, does it not?" Quinlan pursed his lips and waited for the Paladin to nod. "What was the reason for doing so? In the more than decade since I have seen your work, Paladin Danse, I have never observed you taking such a step without consultation."

"As you say, Proctor, it was an unusual circumstance," Danse replied. "In order to ensure the android's 'trust' and its continued cooperation, some level of mutual cooperation was necessary. Seeing as it believed doing so would better enable us to track more of the pre-War abominations this 'Mechanist' is making use of, I ordered Scribe Haylen to install the radar device on the android. To our surprise, it led us to a second such device on our way here. I apologise for taking such a detour. That it yielded us access to a second of the devices, however, I hope can be considered."

"It certainly is," Quinlan shortly agreed, examining the device in the centre of the table. "I have seen some devices of a similar nature before, but it has been quite some time since I have analysed any. I will have to call upon Scribe Jameson to examine it personally. There are very few people to whom I would entrust such delicate work."

"That is the first device," Danse informed him. "I ordered Scribe Haylen to install the second to the android on our way here. The android now insists it is receiving new signals, but we intend to take our investigation – should we be granted permission to – southeast first."

"Southeast?" Ingram repeated. "Why?"

"As I'm sure you have all been informed, the – as they call themselves – Commonwealth Minutemen have recently established a base of operations at what once was Fort Independence," Danse said. "I have been informed by one of my scout teams out of the former Cambridge Police Station that they call it 'the Castle.' They appear to be in the process of shoring up its defences and bringing it to an operational capacity for them to work out of. They have also activated its old radio transmitter."

"Yes, I was briefed on that shortly after it happened," Maxson said, looking a bit annoyed at the thought. "I assume you are requesting to investigate what they are doing there before continuing your investigation into the 'Mechanist?'"

"I am, sir," Danse said with a polite nod. "I believe it would not only be a good opportunity for myself, Scribe Haylen, and Knight Rhys to glean greater understanding of this android and its…motivations but a chance, as well, to remind the Minutemen of their place in the Commonwealth."

"Knowing what they're up to first hand would be beneficial," Teagan said with a faint look of amusement crossing his face. "I'm surprised they even got that damned radio transmitter working, although it seems they're still working out how to send rather than simply receive. Have you, per chance, heard much of the project in your field work, Scribe Haylen?"

"A little here and there," She said promptly. "My understanding is a few of their men are quite skilled at mechanical work but none to any level worth attempting recruitment. A few of our Sisters and Brothers who have had contact with them have stated that it is clear they have no interest in joining us and will be doing their part, as they say, in protecting the people of the Commonwealth on their own."

"Disappointing but unsurprising," Maxson shook his head. "The Minutemen are idealists through and through. I would not consider them a threat, and, instead, am inclined to believe we are indirect allies as our goals are just about the same. By the same token, I don't find them to be quite motivated enough to put an end to the Institute's tirade. Even if their numbers continue to grow, they will still be far too weak to do anything even if they come to want to."

"I have the same impression," Danse said mildly. "I'm disappointed by it, but that cannot be helped. As such, taking the time to get a look at what they're up to at their 'Castle' is, I am convicted, the best course of action for the time being."

"I agree, however, regardless of what we decide to do about the android or with them, I must inform you, Knight Rhys, and Scribe Haylen that the three of you are to remain at the base for a few weeks of training before returning to the field for such delicate work," Maxson smiled when all three of them nodded. "Scribe Jameson, I am sure, will keep you posted on any developments into her and Proctor Quinlan's analysis of the android and this…first radar device."

"Understood, thank you, sir," Danse said, waiting a few seconds before continuing to speak. "I have a few more important notes regarding the android I find important to underscore, if I may."

"You may, Paladin."

"The first is that it appears the previous owners of this android worked intentionally to give it the capacity to develop some level of apparent 'sentience,'" Danse reported. "Though we are now confident they were, in fact, quite unlucky caravaners who met their demises at the hands of the 'Mechanist's' abominations, that they made such a decision is a concerning lapse of judgement and one I recommend investigating once we are done with the android."

"Noted, Paladin," Quinlan said, the look in his eyes betraying his curiosities. "How unfortunate those people made such a mistake. It may have resulted in the 'Mechanist's' robots attacking them in the first place. It's quite sad, how many civilians end up losing their lives due to an overconfidence with technology that should only be in the hands of the best trained amongst us."

"Yes, it is," Danse concurred. "The second," He continued. "Is that the android appears to know a great deal about pre-War corporations and technology which, no doubt, was uploaded into its databases by its previous…owners."

"Unsurprising," Ingram remarked. "If they thought it could help them get by, I'm sure they would have done just about anything. Honestly, it's a miracle this thing didn't turn on them and kill them itself."

"Hence our preparedness to put an end to the android before the conclusion of our investigation, if need be," Danse said, his voice growing deadly serious. "The final issue," He said. "Is that, upon closer inspection of what the android has led us to, the 'Mechanist' is far from an amateur playing with technology they do not understand and, rather is quite skilled, which is a troublesome possibility to say the very least."

The Institute
May the 19th, 2289
14:31

"A Courser? Are you serious? A group of gunner mercenaries managed to kill one of our Coursers?"

"The synth it was tracking is still lost, too. The damage is severe, more severe than usual. Our Coursers are supposed to be self sufficient, as you well know, Dr. Binet, and this disaster is nothing less than absolute. We'll have to reassess how we handle situations with gunner mercenaries going forward as a result. Part of that, I'm sure, we'll be able to better determine now the unit has been retrieved. I'll forward it to Robotics by the end of tomorrow."

Somewhat uncomfortable with how aghast her colleague seemed at the news, Dr. Alana Secord did her best to avoid his gaze, looking back at her report. Frustration. It was the only way to describe the annoyance she forced herself to hide as she reviewed it. The news had come in slowly; the Courser had gone offline for about an hour, the persistent red glare of its marker in SRB Strategic Command unmistakable before, suddenly, returning to normal and indicating retrieval. Having expected a report from the Courser and its debriefing by the next morning, to arrive at work only to be angrily approached by her second in command demanding answers had been not only insulting but jarring. Chantelle having reason to be angry makes it worse, although it certainly had nothing to do with me. When attempting to retrieve footage from any watchers that may have been in the area from where the Courser had gone missing yielded nothing, and a second Courser came back with news that the missing synth was gone and the first Courser was destroyed by the apparent leaders of the gunner mercenaries occupying the building the synth had tried to hide in, everything seemed worse. The loss of the Couser was a nuisance enough but the delay in communication, assessment, and retrieval made it unacceptable.

That the rest of the Directorate agreed with her irritation towards the situation was the only thing she felt remotely content with.

"Seeing as K1-98 was only an unskilled synth who did cleaning work, tracking her down shouldn't be a priority," Alan said, looking rather dismayed at the thought. "I don't want to leave her or any synth up there, but we have to pragmatic. Figuring out what went wrong to cause Z2-47 to be subdued by the gunners and for our intel to lapse is more important."

"Well put, Dr. Binet," Shaun said mildly, glancing between him and Alana. "Dr. Secord, as it seems apparent the issue was with the technology your Division has to work with, I should make clear I am not blaming the SRB for what happened," He turned to Allie. "Nor am I blaming Facilities. We have put all of our resources into completing Phase Three, and having to…return to that which we would have ordinarily been preoccupied in monitoring is, I'm sure, going to be an imperfect transition."

"As much as I appreciate that, what concerns me is the fact this was entirely unprecedented," Allie said with a slight frown as she glimpsed through maintenance requests and inspections. "The supercomputer array, the video monitors, the activity maps, even individual computer terminals in the SRB were working as intended up until this point. The activity maps, including the primary one in the SRB's Strategic Command, had been inspected and cleared only three months ago, and the software it runs on had a successful update applied just two weeks ago. This doesn't make sense."

"I have to agree," Madison said, a tinge of suspicion to her voice. "Dr. Watson was on the joint team developing that software update, and I highly doubt he would have submitted or cleared it if there were any room for failure. Seeing as the power didn't short out for the SRB – or anywhere else in the Institute, for that matter – and it, by all means, shouldn't considering Phase Three's completion, I can't think of any reason why this happened, let alone how."

"It's not my area of expertise by any means, but this is frustratingly hard to comprehend," Clayton hesitated. "I didn't expect Phase Three to solve all of our problems – that would be impossible – but this seems almost planned. Are we sure the gunners didn't kidnap K1-98 to attempt to lure a Courser to them before disposing of the both of them?"

"Interesting theory," Nate mused. "We'll have to rule that out through the run of our investigation."

"We will," Alana said, her tone clipped. "Although attempting to lure a Courser to them as…what even would be the purpose of that? To test their own strength? Doing something that stupid sounds more like the hare brained thought of a handful of raiders, not a group of people as well organised and trained as gunners."

"It would be strange of them to do that," Alan agreed. "But, then again, they're some of the most ruthless people on the surface. It very well could have been a thrill seeking activity, in their minds."

"Whether they planned it or not, the fact of the matter is we've lost a Courser, a third generation synth, and had a massive lapse in our intelligence reports and reaction times. As bad as this is, we're, in some ways, lucky it was just the gunners responsible for this," Madison irritably noted. "Had the Brotherhood done this, that would be even more of a disaster. They already have their hands on one Courser, and I don't want to know what they would do with two and a standard third generation synth."

"It was a relief we were able to rule them out," Alana said. "As Dr. Li said," She said, turning to Shaun. "We were able to rule out the Brotherhood after we were able to find no signs of them being anywhere near that site, apart from a small encampment at the Cambridge Police Station a few miles away. We also did, briefly, entertain the possibility of others being involved. Local raiders were eliminated fairly quickly, as were the Railroad which have been, according to our latest intelligence, all but completely inactive outside of a few suspected cases of them working in and out of Bunker Hill."

Shaun nodded. "Of course."

"And," Alana said, her gaze narrow as she reviewed her documents. "After much…contentious debate, we have also decided it is incredibly unlikely the Minutemen were involved in any manner."

"They'd have no reason to be there," Clayton said, eyeing her strangely. "Why even consider it? It's not as though they'd help the gunners or want to even risk getting near them. We've all seen the reports on the state of things at their base of operations, and what we've gathered from around the rest of the Commonwealth, and they're still not nearly numerous enough, let alone meticulously trained enough, to be able to take out an entire building full of gunners and then a Courser to boot."

"We do have to check every eventuality," Shaun reminded him. "Though I agree, Dr. Holdren, that it would be quite strange for them or any of their members to have had any involvement in this."

"I certainly can't think of any reason why the Minutemen would want anything to do with this, even in a hypothetical collusion with the Railroad, although I'm not convinced the Railroad are still particularly active," Madison sighed. "They haven't been a threat to us in at least a year and a half, which is a good thing. It does seem like a waste of resources to investigate them or the Minutemen, especially when I would have assumed the Brotherhood would have been involved with this far sooner than I ever would have suspected either them."

Alana bristled. "We have to review all avenues."

"She's got a point," Clayton nervously said. "After we destroyed their base of operations, we haven't heard much about them other than the few isolated incidents that may not even be organised. But I'm with you, Madison. Even before them and the Minutemen were ruled out, I'd have been unsurprised to find out the Brotherhood were involved. We're lucky they weren't."

"We truly are," Alan said, dismayed. "I can only imagine how little respect they have shown Armitage. He was one of the best of the Coursers we designed back in 2242, and he was even better after the software upgrades of the 2260s, and, I am sure, they did not give him a swift and easy death nor have they paid him any respect in death."

Alana frowned. "Are you really more upset about the thought of S3-47 'experiencing' some form of 'mental anguish' than you are at the loss of the unit?"

"Yes," Alan said, meeting her gaze uncompromisingly. "The synths are just like us apart from how they come to be. I will stand by that statement, Dr. Secord, and will continue my research into proving it."

"Regardless," Shaun calmly interjected. "This is an unfortunate situation we will need to keep a close eye on. I never expected simple mercenaries to pose much of a threat but that, it seems, was a mistake."

Vault 88
May the 21st, 2289
20:54

Somehow, strange as the Vault had seemed by its location alone when he had first reached it, the state of Vault 88 was even stranger than Sturges Presley had anticipated.

The Vault's very own Overseer Barstow was far from likeable, something he had suspected after she had spent no less than an hour yelling at him for the way he operated a computer terminal, but she grew all the more unlikeable by the day, in no small part due to her personality. Quite the autocrat and something of a megalomaniac, Valery Barstow's willingness to let some of the increasingly desperate, allegedly repentant raiders outside of the Vault into it had struck him as odd. When he had come into her office at 5:00 as they had agreed upon the next morning, after a night spent sleeping in his sleeping bag in a hidden, secluded spot in the Vault, to find her finishing construction on a stationary bike attached to a questionable computer array, that decision began to make a bit more sense. Going on to find three of the supposedly repentant raiders all but collapsed against each other outside a room Barstow had put two other, similarly constructed stationary bikes in explained it even further. A few conversations with the still chipper Clem later, seemingly the only person she spared torment due to his eagerness and willingness to do what she said with little to no questioning, and he had come to realise Overseer Valery Barstow was, at the very least, dismissive of the wellbeing of others and, potentially, even something of a budding psychopath.

Having managed to convince her to allow him to read through the Vault's files in her office in peace and take notes was perhaps the greatest relief he had felt since his arrival, though knowing it was because she wanted more time to develop her questionably scientific experiments was unsettling in and of itself.

Vault-Tec Projects Across The United States Of America, June 2077.

A faint smile dawning on his face, Sturges reached for his notepad and pen and held it up to the screen of the computer, carefully tracing the map down onto it and marking locations he, already, had identified of interest.

Vault 0 – State: Colorado. Type: cryogenic suspension. Population: members of the top scientific, mathematical, educational, artistic, economic, political, and general communities identified as being of an IQ score of 130 or higher. Notes: connexion to Vault-Tec's network damaged in 2197, and all systems went offline shortly thereafter, destroying the experiment.

Vault 13 – State: California. Type: long term living; open after two hundred years to study the impacts of prolonged isolation. Population: initially, diplomats, politicians, and civilians; civilian residents chosen in a statewide lottery. Notes: connexion to Vault-Tec's grid network indicates the Vault was opened prematurely on the fifth of December, 2161, eighty four years early.

Vault 33 – State: California. Type: [REDACTED]. Population: [REDACTED]. Notes: connected to Vaults 31 and 32 and, apart from [REDACTED], active as intended since sealing in 2077. Purpose for such is [REDACTED].

Vault 81 – State: Massachusetts. Type: medicinal research; sample viruses for experimentation in research include but are not limited to polio, measles, mumps, and rubella, SARS-CoV-1, SARS-CoV-2, rabies, smallpox, and [REDACTED]. Population: scientific community members, medical community members, civilians. Notes: connexion to Vault-Tec's grid network damaged and severed in December 2077, destroying the experiment in the research Vault before any denizens in the primary Vault could be taken as test subjects.

Vault 87 – Location: Washington DC. Type: biological research of Dr. Wayne Merrick, specifically on the [REDACTED]. Population: impoverished peoples of Washington DC, Maryland, and Pennsylvania (test subjects easier to manipulate and able to be easy to remove from the public early without drawing suspicion or controversy). Notes: connexion to Vault-Tec's grid network severed on the seventh of December, 2275.

Vault 88 – State: Massachusetts. Type: lifestyle research. Population: undetermined. Notes: construction to be completed on the eleventh of May, 2078 and enrolment to opened at that time with input and consideration from Overseer Valery Barstow.

Vault 101 – State: Virginia. Type: long term living. Population: civilians. Notes: the Vault serves a dual purpose as an experiment of what will happen when a Vault is indefinitely closed on the mindset of an Overseer. Vault connexion to Vault-Tec's grid network intact but experiment compromised; Vault has been opened many times, beginning in 2110. Network indicates the Vault has been actively open regularly since 2279.

Vault 111 – State: Massachusetts. Type: cryogenic suspension. Population: civilians, members of the United States Military, members of the scientific community. Notes: connexion to Vault-Tec's grid network active but the Vault emptied by 2287.

Vault 118 – State: Maine. Type: long term living. Population: civilians of the North Eastern United States earning upwards of three hundred thousand dollars per year. Notes: connexion to Vault-Tec's network active but experiment changed and compromised by residents in December 2077.

"Shit is fucking fascinating…" Sturges said to himself, chewing on the clicker of his pen. "81 trades sometimes, don't it?"

Scrolling back through the list and setting his notes aside, satisfied with the information and the locations marked down, Sturges paused upon noticing a few icons on the bar at the bottom of the screen. Surprised he had overlooked them, he glanced at them, taking in the designs of the icons. Curiosity about one peculiar one in the shape of circle of red, yellow, and green around a blue circle, he moved the computer mouse and clicked on it. Hearing the computer's systems at his feet beginning to groan and creak, Sturges pushed himself back from the desk a little and pulled his legs up to sit with them crossed on the chair. When the whirring, groaning, and creaking stopped, he raised an eyebrow upon a large window opening on the computer screen with large text above a search bar reading Google. Seeing a large warning message at the top right corner of the window, Sturges leaned forward to read it, his eyebrows raising with each word he read.

Satellite connexion disrupted. You are accessing an archive of the data stored on the World Wide Web up to the twenty third of October, 2077.

Unsure of himself, and a bit transfixed at the two smaller bars under the large one prompting him to enter text, he smiled a little to himself; Search With Google; I'm Feeling Lucky. Shrugging to himself and expecting nothing, he clicked I'm Feeling Lucky, beginning to laugh when, after stalling, being presented with photographs of the television cast of the Silver Shroud in and out of costume. Not wanting to potentially damage the system or the computer terminal, he swallowed his curiosity and closed the window, returning to the file navigation. With a sigh, Sturges briefly closed his eyes, tiredness greeting him. Deciding to keep going, he began to chew on the clicker of his pen again, typing Vault 81 into the file database. Slowly, he began to go through all of the documents the search yielded that he had not already read and taken notes on. When he opened stored photographs, he paused upon seeing the dates and timestamps associated with them; surveillance. Even no longer in control, Vault-Tec was still watching the people of the Vault despite not being able to do or say anything to them. His curiosity piqued once more, he began to take down another set of notes, and a few reminders.

Pass on Vault research to Valentine.

Print off as much of the information in this database as possible.

Inform Preston of the state of Vault 88 and warn against contact with its Overseer.

Collect and discretely take as many historical, mathematical, scientific, and engineering works as possible for personal research.

Offer Clem the chance to join the Minutemen, safely out of the way of Overseer Barstow and raiders.

Investigate Vault 81's secondary Vault.

Staring at the last note, Sturges frowned but, suddenly, added another note below it.

Go to Goodneighbour and tell Hancock about Vault 81 as a potential companion in the investigation.

"Looks like we're going there," Sturges mused to himself. "There are just some things ain't able to be left not checked out."

Diamond City
May the 22nd, 2289
19:28

To say he was relieved to be on the cusp of returning to a more typical case would have been almost anachronistic and, so, instead, detective Nicholas Julius Valentine smiled when he sat down at the dining room table of one of his companion's well kempt and fine, classic home, two crates of information on the case already set down in the centre.

Though not going with them, the woman of the house was sat with them, her hands tightly entwined with her husband's hands under the table. Beside them sat the youngest of their four children, antsy in anticipation to go back to the unusual Island. More anxious the excited, Eleanor Perkins sat beside the aged detective and across from the General's right hand man, wife, and youngest child, fidgeting with her scarf. Taking off his hat and setting it down on his lap, the General of the Minutemen took out a few of the files from in the crates, paging through them quickly. Finding a few of immediate interest, he set those aside. Feeling a bit hyper, trying not to swing her legs under the table, the youngest among them tried to hold back her burgeoning curiosity. Everything she had seen so far, everything she had heard so far (both from eavesdropping and not) fascinated her, and thinking about the odd synth they would be going back to talk to was equal parts nerve wracking and exciting. The way his existence had so disquieted Nick, too, left her almost desperately curious. He had always seemed impossible to faze; the kind of person who had seen just about everything over the course of at least a full century of life in the Commonwealth. When she saw Preston set down the last few files he wanted, she let out a sigh of relief, ready to hear anything and everything.

"Getting to finally talk to Kenji and Rei was definitely helpful," Nick said, glancing between Preston and his right hand man. "But we're going to stop to speak with them again. I gave them a heads up about who'd be coming with, so they're not going to be surprised. Just expect them – Kenji especially – to be a bit paranoid."

"That's more than understandable," Derek said, adjusting his glasses. "Their daughter has been separated from them since last September, and the only thing they know is she's relatively safe but also hundreds of miles away and out of their reach. Her having been convinced she's a synth, too…that can only be terrifying for them to think about. She's their baby girl. Losing her to a group they can't even begin to understand might be the worst thing for them to know right now."

"Doesn't help that Dima is…eccentric," Preston said, turning to Nick. "Did you tell them more about him than we already did, after what we discussed?"

"Vaguely," Nick said with a shake of his head. "They don't need to hear more fear and potential bad news than they're already faced with. Hell, Kenji will probably think this is all some sort of Institute trap that's going to completely sever him and Rei from their daughter. Pretty sure he already entertains that thought."

"It's a relief it's, at the very least, pretty clear that the Institute aren't involved with Acadia," Preston remarked. "The Institute are a worrisome rabbit hole."

"They are," Hadley said, reaching over and wrapping an arm around her daughter. "I've seen more than enough to be uneasy about them. That said…I can't help but wonder if there's more to it than we're able to see up here."

"There absolutely is," Nick said grimly. "I'm not sure I want to know it, though. From what Preston, Derek, Ellie, and, of course, Ada learnt while in Acadia, it sounds like the Institute is massive – which I've long since suspected – and much more capable than they already have made clear."

"That's why I'm not wholly comfortable with the…situation we're in with University Point because being on the same page as the Institute is…scary to say the least," Preston said, pausing in thought. "After speaking to Dr. Li, though, I don't quite understand her, but she doesn't strike me as a bad person. Hell, the way she was desperate to get her student, Jacq, safely away from the Brotherhood even more than herself? She's a bit icy, no doubt about that, but she's not a bad person, far as I can tell."

"She's not," Hadley quietly agreed. "She was like this with Dr. Davis, after she realised she was starting to care about her. Honestly, I'd thought she wished she were her mother, and a part of me still does. After meeting Annette for the first time a few months ago, I couldn't believe what she's been through. I'm not surprised Madison was so upset by what happened to her and Jacqueline. It probably felt all too familiar."

"Dr. Li trained Emmett for a few years, too," Ada said with a faint smile. "I've always liked her. She's a tough bitch."

"Addison," Hadley chided.

"It's true," Ada simply replied with a shrug. "There's not any other way to put it."

"Well, either way, I'm uneasy about our relationship with the Institute but I don't think there's any getting around it," Preston sighed. "I understand them a hell of a lot less than I thought I did. Even Gerald Spencer doesn't understand them, and his own daughter is a member of the Institute."

"Part of why I'm curious to talk to the folks at Acadia," Nick said with a slight frown. "If none of them have had their minds wiped by Amari – or whomever else is somehow able to do that in this state – then some of them probably know a little," He looked to Ellie. "You said one of them is a former Courser?"

"Yes," Ellie said, looking a little uneasy. "Her name is Chase. She said she ran into Dima while hunting a synth and he changed her mind about herself and the Institute, and, after that, she never went back and has been rogue ever since. She's been one of the masterminds at Acadia for a few years, if I'm remembering right."

"That's about how I remember it too," Derek said. "It's fascinating how well they've adapted to life after the Institute. A lot of them seem to remember more than the average synth, too, even those that more than likely have never had their minds wiped. What took me aback, though, was when I was speaking to Chase and she mentioned someone I knew. Harkness."

Ada turned to him in surprise. "Harkness? The chief of Rivet City Security?"

"As it turns out, he's apparently a synth himself. A former Courser, as it happens," Derek said, sharing a knowing look with his wife. "I was shocked to hear he had left Rivet City, but, according to Chase, he left everything in the safe hands of Danvers about two years ago. Supposedly, he went up there on something of a 'spiritual journey' after talking to a few other escaped synths in the Capital Wasteland before going out west, towards the Mojave."

"He always did talk about going out there eventually," Hadley said with a small smile. "I suspect he left to not risk being found out as a synth because of him…not ageing. Either way, if he's happy and went somewhere he feels safe and himself, then I'm happy for him."

"That's certainly one of the better stories I've heard about escaped synths," Nick said morosely. "I've heard far too many horror stories over the years. I can't say I've never felt sorry for myself and the state I was left in, but it's nothing compared to what a lot of synths have been through. That's why I'm scared of what the Institute is up to. I understand, of course, why you're indirectly aligned with them," He said, waiting to go on until Preston nodded. "But it makes me nervous. You've got more nerve than I do, at least on that front."

"The people of University Point and their peace of mind are more important than my own discomfort. If I'm going to lead the Minutemen, I need to lead by example," Preston said, setting his hat back on his head. "That said, I do want to check on the state of things at the Castle before we head out to Far Harbour again. It's a hell of an undertaking, and I'm proud of the progress we've made so far, but I don't want to give our men and women the impression we are distant from them."

"Sounds great," Ada said with a grin. "I want to see what the radio system is capable of anyways."

"I'm sure they'll be more than happy to give you a show around it," Preston told her before turning to her ever tenser mother. "The same as before, Hadley, I'll protect her with my life. I know Derek and Nick will too."

"If a father isn't willing to fight for his family, or kill for them if need be, then he's not a good father," Derek said resolutely, reassuringly squeezing his wife's shoulders when she shifted to briefly kiss him. "I know you'd do the same as their mother, Hads."

"We both have," She whispered. "We had to."

"And Kenji and Rei can't do this on their own," Nick said, taking another look at the photograph of Dima when Preston handed the file to him. "Kasumi has always meant the world to them, and this has got to be the most disturbing thing they've ever had to endure…and he and I were nearly cooked alive in an industrial oven by raiders, way back when."

Preston grimaced. "They really are the scum of the Commonwealth."

"The whole world, really," Nick said, shaking his head. "I can't help but wonder how people have gotten so damn selfish but, the more I read about it, the more I realise we've always been that way. If we hadn't, the War wouldn't have happened."

"A lot of things wouldn't have happened," Ellie said, sharing a long look with him. "And God knows that shit is going to keep happening, whether we like it or not, and whether anyone deserves it or not."