The Castle
May the 24th, 2289
15:11

"Well, there we've got at least one of the old guns reconstructed and in testing. Good news is, after some whinging and groaning about it, I got enough of your Minutemen here to get me through the old tunnels and, in one hell of a stroke of luck, we found there's a decent bit of usable shit laying around. And poor General McGann. Looked to have died drinking and, frankly, I don't blame him. If I got trapped somewhere, I'd certainly prefer to die drunk and passed out happy."

Taken aback when the woman fired a few shots in the air from her pump action shotgun to get the attention of the Minutemen working in the courtyard of the Castle, Preston startled again when several of the Minutemen looked up and began clapping upon seeing him entering the Castle. Seeing much more of the rubble than he had anticipated being cleared and the two broken down bastions already being rebuilt, the General of the Minutemen could not help but smile. A little less than a month, and already his people seemed inspired. Holstering her shotgun, the woman paused about halfway into the courtyard with the General, setting her hands to her hips in thought. The dawning summer air was breezy, making the sunlight feel less heavy on their shoulders. On a flagpole near the radio transmission station, an aged flag of the Minutemen was fluttering in the wind just above the fifty star flag. The flag we always were taught was the real flag of the United States…wonder if anywhere else is like that or if the Harbour is just strange. The thought making him uneasy, he refocused himself on listening to what his Colonel was saying, in between her giving orders to a handful of the men and women working around them. When she began walking through the courtyard again, she waved for him to follow after her, giving him a faint, seemingly rare smile when he did.

"Seeing as I'm sure you're still wound up in nerves about the state of things here, I'm here to tell you not to be," She said, turning towards him. "I wouldn't have accepted your offer to rejoin the Minutemen if I hadn't heard the word going around that you really did take back the old Castle. Knew you'd been gaining numbers and a handful of allies, 'course, but I'm a bit of a stickler."

"Just glad to have someone with your experience on board, Colonel Shaw," Preston said, shaking her hand. "You rallying up people to join too…I didn't expect it."

"But you damn sure appreciate it," She said with a brief laugh. "To be quite honest, I'm simply glad to see the Minutemen ain't dead in the water. It's been about a decade since I officially left but, after having held out for so long and seeing everything go to shit, I'm feeling cautiously optimistic seeing what you've been doing so far."

"Good to know," He said, stepping out of the way as a few Minutemen began to lift and move some initial structures for the construction work going on all around them. "I'm impressed at how motivated you've gotten everyone to be. A lot more has already been done than I was even ready to hope for."

"Shows the inspiration of the cause," She confidently replied. "If a spry seventy six year old curmudgeon like myself can come back to the Minutemen, then anyone can or start to take part in taking care of the Commonwealth."

"That's what I was hoping for," Preston happily said. "After all we've been through to get here, it does me good knowing and seeing there are a lot of good people in the Commonwealth, people willing to take up arms to help their friends, families, and neighbours."

"There are and, grim as it is," Her gaze darkened when she looked off at, in the distance, the looming face of the Prydwen. "Those Brotherhood assholes coming in and playing saviour have probably motivated some people too. They leave a bad taste in my mouth, and I've never had personal contact with them. Did stop by a handful of our allied settlements before coming back here just last night. Most of 'em have either had a bad experience with them or know someone who has."

"Which is why a lot of our men protect those families and small towns personally," Preston sighed. "I wish the Brotherhood were less aggressive but it really does seem to be their way or the high way."

"The high way to heaven in their eyes," She snorted. "'Til they've earnt the trust of the Commonwealth, I ain't going to believe they want to help us out of the goodness of their hearts. Sure you've gotten a report on it already, General, but we've seen a few of their vertibirds flying nearby and, once or twice, above us since things have been really getting off the ground, so to speak."

"I heard about it and, I agree, it's not something I've got a good feeling about," Preston said, briefly taking off his hat to shield his eyes from the sun as he looked up to see the status of the artillery testing. "I assume you got my orders not to fire on them?"

"I did, though I ain't a fan of it," She said, struggling to mask her irritation. "If they get too close, I don't want to take any chances. The Brotherhood have got a strong reputation, backed by real history. I met your…well, he seemed uncomfortable with being given a title so I'll call him your right hand man. He and I spoke about the Brotherhood, and he confirmed just about everything I've heard of them on this side of the good ol' US of A."

Preston raised an eyebrow when he looked back at her, setting his hat back onto his head. "Have you heard anything about them and their operations on the West Coast?"

"Seeing as I was born and raised in the shit show that is the NCR, yeah, I know and have seen a fair bit. Got a finger on some rumours out that way, too, old friends, you know? Being my age, I get less and less of 'em by the day," She shook her head. "That big fucking airship they've got here and at the defunct airport ain't the only one in their arsenal. My understanding is one of their previous Elders on this side of the country gave the others the plans to build it back in the late 2270s. Supposedly they've now got one out west, too, because of it."

"That's troubling," Preston said, pausing a few seconds in thought. "I doubt they'd feel the need to waste resources they need on the other side of the country by dragging that ship out here too but, still, that's a troubling thought."

"Has just as pompous a name, too," She said, rolling her eyes. "The 'Caswennan.' Of course, if we fuck this one up or they fuck theirs up, they might have to do a little trade. Wouldn't hurt them here, though. Let's face it – with or without that thing, they've just about got a whole military base out of the old airport. Give them another year, and they'll have no need for it and probably expanded that damned base. But I should probably stop ranting. We have to deal with them either way."

"My hope is we won't have to fight them," Preston said, looking a bit resigned to the notion. "Other than a few of our allied towns and settlements having had a few tousles with them, myself, Derek, and Sturges had to rescue a…woman and her daughter who were being held captive by them because of their scientific prowess."

"Sounds about right to me," She frowned. "They know how to get what they want and expect it. Too bad for them is that we aren't going to let them walk all over the people of the Commonwealth. I know they say they're just here for the Institute, but I have a hard time believing that drivel."

"It's hard not to question their intentions," He agreed. "I've been worried since they arrived that the Commonwealth is going to get caught in the crossfire of whatever happens between them and the Institute, and, the more I hear from or about them, it sounds to me that they think they're going to save us whether we like it or not. I really do worry about what might happen after they've…saved all of us from the Institute."

"Hard not to, but that's tomorrow's problem, not today's," She said, dusting off her hands. "By the by, I would say things are going as smoothly as they can be here, and I've been quite pleased by what I've seen so far. That in mind, I know you've got a journey to make soon, so I won't keep you longer than necessary, General. I know as well as anyone how important time is."

"Appreciate it, Colonel," Preston said with a polite tip of his hat. "I'm grateful you understand why…why it's important to me."

"Bring the girl home to her family, then," She told him with a hint of a smile. "And resolve your unfinished business, General. I'm sure, once you do that, you'll feel right as rain and better than ever."

Railroad Headquarters
May the 26th, 2289
13:26

The clicking sounds on the keyboard of his computer terminal creating something of a rhythm, Nora Jacqueline Norwich tried to focus on it rather than the nauseating feeling grasping onto her with each minute that passed of the eccentric tinkerer called Tom working to decrypt the information on the chip of the dead Courser.

It barely helped.

Growing less and less aware of how much or how little time had passed since he had begun working to decrypt the device, Nora stood up from where she had been sat just behind him and wrapped her arms around herself and her light, leather jacket in the cold, somewhat musty crypt. Herself sat on the edge of the large table in the centre of the old crypt holding a map of the Commonwealth, Cait was relatively content to lightly swing her legs back and forth every so often as she smoked a cigarette. Glory had relegated herself to the mainframe room, much to the relief of both Nora and Cait. Carrington remained sequestered to his makeshift laboratory by choice and only looked up from his work every so often to scowl at Deacon. Resisting the urge to whistle to himself as he stretched and, every so often, did some target practise, the enigmatic agent let himself relax a little, having full faith in his favourite, eccentric inventor. He didn't let himself dwell on his questions about Nora and her behaviour. They had done it. The Courser was dead, the chip retrieved, and, even better, an innocent synth had been saved. Better still, they would have the information stored on the Courser's chip, an insight good as any into the Institute's capacities. And, best of all, the Institute would likely not know they were responsible, the gunners having provided a disturbing cover, whilst the Brotherhood, on the other end of the spectrum, would not know what they had even existed.

"Come on, little Courser chip, you're almost there…" Tom excitedly muttered to himself. "Oh, fuck, don't crash, hold it together for –"

"You've been working with it for about an hour," Deacon turned around from his target practice to send Tom a pointed look he barely registered. "If it were going to crash, it probably would have already."

"I know, I –" Tom suddenly let out a heavy sigh of relief. "Alright, just a memory hiccup. Now, let's…here it comes! Alright, we're still running. Encryption algor…shit. They've added more decimals to this than the last cipher. Come on, baby, show me the pattern, where is it?"

"Be careful, Tom," Desdemona pointedly told him. "Don't let your enthusiasm –"

"Wait, Des, they're using the same logarithmic function as the key generator!" Tom exclaimed happily, leaning forward towards his computer terminal in focus. "I got you, you Institute bastard! I got you!"

"Are you almost there?" Nora dubiously pressed. "Or are you getting our hopes up for no reason?"

"No, I've…" He paused, forcing himself to focus on the work. "Solving for…come on, show me that sweet base number and…"

The computer terminal beeped and, feeling a bit sick, Nora stepped over towards where he was sat at his computer and Desdemona was stood just behind him. She raised an eyebrow when she saw the popup message on the screen and tried to mask her relief and the faint smile slipping past her suspicion.

Unknown USB Adapted Object Decryption Complete. Download in progress.

"The download will probably take a little while," Tom said, pulling up all of the gadgets on his headgear and turning around in his chair, grinning when he saw she had a small smile on her face. "But the good news is we've got the Courser chip and got it to the downloadable state uncorrupted."

"Which you promised you would," Nora reminded him, though her gaze was focused more on Desdemona. "Have you made any progress on deciphering the plans for the interceptor that – if Virgil got it right – will get me into the Institute?"

"Some," Tom said, looking a little embarrassed. "But it's a lot harder than I thought it would be."

"Wish I could say I were surprised," Nora said, looking a bit resigned to the thought. "But I was afraid that would happen. I could barely keep up with him when he was describing it to me and Nick in person. I'm sure it's worse without context."

"Reasonable," Desdemona said, trying to mask her relief at the former lawyer's apparent change of attitude. "So much as I wish this could go faster, that doesn't seem particularly likely, all things considered. Institute technology in general takes a considerable amount of time to gleam any semblance of understanding from, and something like this…it's almost unbelievable."

"Sure," Cait said with a shrug, stubbing out her cigarette and sauntering over towards where she and Nora were stood and Tom was sat. "But you did say you can do it."

"We will," Tom said, rubbing at his neck with one hand and keeping his computer terminal from going into sleep with the other. "It's just hard to wrap your mind around. I mean, they're using teleporters. I'd been saying it ever since Glory told us about what she saw in her memory recoveries, but everyone kept going 'no, that can't be right' and 'no, Tom, that's crazy' and 'it violates the laws of physics.' But think about it this way: the matter isn't – you aren't – being created or destroyed. It's changing state in one location and returning to the original state in the other."

"That I already know," Nora said, tiredly crossing her arms. "As for the Courser chip, I assume you're going to need to perform data analysis on its contents?"

"Data analysis, mapping its processes and functions, and identifying what connexions it has that will interface with the systems the makeshift 'Molecular Relay' interceptor to make the machine operational," Tom said, pausing a few seconds in thought. "I'll need to figure out both that and the plans Virgil gave you."

Nora sighed. "What are his plans missing, then?"

"I'm not entirely sure, yet, but I can tell you, for sure, the plans cover all the high end, top of the line, super complicated egghead shit," Tom awkwardly explained, nervous under her critical gaze. "The thing they're missing, by and large, are tons of engineering details. I'll have to keep working to fill in the gaps, which will take time."

"I figured," Nora said, raising an eyebrow when she turned around upon hearing footsteps approaching, frowning when she saw Deacon's relaxed demeanour. "That being said," She said, turning back to Desdemona. "I know you can't do this on your own. Hell, I had thought Scara and Duff might have been capable of decoding the Courser chip but, unfortunately, that was above their time and paygrade."

Desdemona eyed her closely. "That was the reason for the delay in handing it over to us? Because you wanted someone else to do it?"

"It didn't work out, clearly," Nora pointedly told her. "Since I'm sure the two of them don't have the time to help me with this, I've spoken to Preston, and he and the Minutemen are going to help us – help me – get the damned 'signal interceptor' operational. It won't just you, it's going to be both of us."

"You told the Minutemen about us?" Desdemona said, taking a half step back. "That –"

"No, I didn't tell them about your work, where you work from, or anything that needs to stay secret, and, seeing as they already know you exist, telling them a few people – without giving names – from your organisation will be helping me was practical," Nora said unflinchingly. "They're good people, and they've not only been honest with me from the start but they care about the entire Commonwealth rather than just a few people. I need to find my son, I need to be able to get him back, but I can't – I won't – put my faith in a handful of people who haven't quite earnt my trust yet. We are talking about my life and my family. I am not giving up my right to have a say in how it's handled."

"If we have to work with them, then, don't worry, we will, but, please, don't be fooled," Tom said, his voice unusually, deadly serious. "A lot of your friends in the Minutemen? They'd flat out execute a synth if they were given the opportunity and a 'decent' enough reason to. They do good for the rest of the Commonwealth, but we are the only ones actively doing everything in our power to help synths."

"And, like her and her opinions or not, Glory does have some serious and valid reservations about trusting them," Deacon added, trying to avoid Nora's cold gaze. "Particularly where the Brotherhood are concerned. There's a reason she's pushed a certain woman into taking a step back, and I understand why, even though I think it's a bit overkill. We have to consider the possibility the Minutemen will cut a deal with the Brotherhood, and that's something that could – and most likely would – be very bad news for any synth lost in the Commonwealth."

"Seeing as they have and still are actively pushing back against the Brotherhood, I find that hard to believe," Nora irritably replied, sharing a brief, knowing look with Cait, before extending her hand towards Desdemona. "Whether you like it or not, I told Preston, and he is going to have Sturges work on it too, as soon as he gets back from an investigation. Do we have a deal?"

Desdemona stared her down for a few seconds but then shortly nodded, shaking the former lawyer's hand, squeezing the woman's almost as sharply as was doing to her.

"Yes," She said. "Yes, Miss Norwich, we do."

Goodneighbour
May the 29th, 2289
10:08

"Sturges! My man, it's been a hell of a long time no see!"

When Hancock stood up from where he had been lounging on one of the couches in his office to greet the Minutemen's best mechanic, Fahrenheit rolled her eyes and waved at the neighbourhood watch guards to shut the doors behind him. Satisfied the moment they did, she went back to drawing up blueprints for a few new weapons. Sturges smiled when he and Hancock were only a foot apart and bumped fists and elbows with him before the two men smacked each other's palms. Fahrenheit only looked up briefly to roll her eyes at their greetings, but didn't push away the small, almost invisible smile that crossed her face. At the very least, they were somewhat entertaining. A little bit of small talk, and the two men stepped across the room; Hancock, first, to get a handful of shot glasses and gin and Sturges, second, to make sure the eclectic mayor didn't break anything. Everything brought to the table, Hancock turned back to get a few snacks (and drugs) while Sturges sat down on one of the couches and started pouring shots for them. He only paused when he heard the hard thuds of steel toed boots on the floor, turning to offer the rest of the bottle of gin to Fahrenheit. Much to his surprise, she had uncapped a beer and offered it to him with a faint smirk. Taking the gin from him once he accepted the beer, she turned back to return to her work, rolling her eyes when she saw how Hancock swaggered over to sit down across from Sturges, himself slowly sipping his beer.

"I can't believe you forgot he doesn't drink hard liquor," Fahrenheit said, raising an eyebrow when Hancock merely shrugged. "Or did you forget where the cold beers are kept around here?"

"I have to be in a very specific mood for beer," Hancock nonchalantly replied. "Besides, you're the one who drinks it most. MacCready won't let me give him free beer even when he's stressed the fuck out."

"That," Fahrenheit reminded him. "Would be because our Little Bird isn't an alcoholic or drug addict."

"Depends on how you look at it," Hancock said with chuckle before twisting the cap off a bottle of daytripper. "So," He said, taking a few down with two shots of gin. "What are you up to these days, Sturges? I know the Minutemen have been getting themselves up off the pavement for…what, nearly two years now? You guys took back that old fort recently, didn't you?"

"We did," Sturges said, a bit of pride in his voice. "Things at the Castle are coming together pretty well. Last I heard from Preston was some old members of the Minutemen are returning because of that success in particular. Helps, now, I got one of these," He said, gesturing to his Pip-Boy. "Because the radio transmitter for the Castle is semi-reliable at the moment, which has made it easier to communicate with them there."

"I'm just impressed you were brave enough to go into a now empty Vault to get that thing," Hancock said with a wink. "You didn't come into anything particularly heinous down there, did you?"

"Other than information about Vault-Tec and their intentions with the Vault?" Sturges shook his head. "I only went looking for that information because Nora asked me to. She gave me the codes into the Vault so I could retrieve some of the high tech, pre-War stuff down there and she could, hopefully, get some answers as to what the hell went on down there. Unfortunately, there was a lot less than I thought there'd be, at least in her Vault."

"At least in her Vault?" Hancock said, curious. "You been in others lately?"

"I have, partially by accident," Sturges said, pausing to take a few sips of his beer. "When we were getting the Castle's radio transmitter back online, we accidentally intercepted an emergency broadcast signal for a Vault in the old quarries near Quincy. Turned out to be legitimate, a little too legitimate. The lady who was supposed to be the Overseer had Vault-Tec finished the Vault before the War? She's still there. I helped get her out of being trapped, alongside a nice fellow called Clem, but damn. She's got a stone heart, to say the very least."

"She a ghoul?" Hancock grinned when he nodded. "A Vault-Tec ghoul. Never thought I'd see the day where I heard one of those were real. Well, at least the ones that ain't feral. I'm sure there are more than a few ferals trapped in Vault-Tec facilities."

"Better than up here, Hancock," Fahrenheit tempered. "Especially near our town. With the amount of ghouls living here, I'm surprised the Brotherhood haven't tried to run us over."

"Their policy, funnily enough, is to only shoot ferals," Sturges told her. "Don't mean they like normal ghouls, but they ain't going to kill 'em unless they're feral."

"Fair enough," Hancock said, taking a few more shots. "So, what's the Vault-Tec ghoul lady like?"

"If I'm being honest, a bit of a psychopath," Sturges said, shuddering at the thought. "She let me use her computer terminals and I got a hell of a lot of information on Vault-Tec from it, which I'm going to be making copies of soon, but the most interesting thing I found on there was about Vault 81."

"The traders?" Hancock considered that. "Guessing they were one of the 'good' Vaults where no one got experimented on or otherwise fucked with."

"That's the thing," Sturges said cautiously. "From what I could tell, the Overseer at 88 – Valery Barstow – was a high ranking member of Vault-Tec's scientific wings, working closely with people including Dr. Stanislaus Braun and, if I were to put money on it, probably Robert House, considering the amount of money he poured into Vault-Tec in the 2060s. Off the books, of course."

"House was a real smart man," Hancock remarked, pulling a pack of cigarettes and a lighter out of his coat pocket. "There are rumours he's still alive, too, out on the West Coast, and I wouldn't be surprised if that's true. If anyone could beat death itself, it would be one of the top minds before the War."

"Well, either way, it took a lot of digging and bypassing a lot of the security protocols on her computers, but I was able to get into a list of Vaults, their experiments, and Overseers. A few were shockingly recent, and I mean as recent as a few years ago," Sturges said, setting his beer down. "From what I could figure out, Barstow was so high up there that her Vault is – since its purpose, it seems, was to develop tech that could be distributed to other Vaults even after a war –connected to some sort of network."

"Unsurprising," Fahrenheit mildly remarked. "I, for one, always assumed cross-continental communications would still be viable for…certain people. Vault-Tec having a well concealed and still operable network doesn't surprise me."

"I was surprised I was even able to access an archive of what them before the War called the 'world wide web' which was interesting as hell," Sturges said, restraining his excitement. "There's so damn much I could tell you, but that's not why I'm here. I did some chatting down in the Third Rail, and Charlie told me Hancock would probably be interested in doing this with me, so, here I am."

"An investigation into Vault-Tec properties?" Hancock grinned when he nodded. "That why you mentioned Vault 81?"

"Yep," Sturges said, stretching out his arms. "Because what I found suggests Vault 81 is a research facility meant to deliberately infect residents of the Vault with a myriad of diseases so they could attempt to create a 'single and universal' cure to every disease on the books. The problem I have with that is the fact that the Vault is still active, and I have a hard time believing that's possible if Vault-Tec were conducting their experiments for any amount of time."

"Can't argue with that," Hancock said, humming to himself in thought. "You think it's possible the people Vault-Tec sent to run those experiments ultimately refused to do so? You know, a fluke of there actually being ethical people up at the tippy top of Vault-Tec?"

"I do," Sturges replied. "But I want to know for sure, because, if that's the case, there's a chance whatever experiments Vault-Tec had been planning are something of a ticking time bomb – figuratively and literally – and could kill everyone living there, and there are a lot of people living there. The Vault's blueprints show it was split into two sections, and I want to know what's happening there and prevent anything bad from potentially happening to the people there because of whatever is in the other section."

"And you want a partner in crime?" Hancock reached across the table to fist bump him when he nodded. "Let's get to it as soon as possible then. Besides, it's been a dream of mine to get my hands on a Vault suit for years."

Sturges eyed him strangely. "Any particular reason?"

"Well, see, as a ghoul," Hancock said with a mischievous look in his eyes. "I've found I don't like the texture of latex on my skin as much as I used to."

"Don't tell them that," Sturges said, though he laughed. "But fair enough, Hancock, you do you. No one's going to be able to stop you, that's for damn sure, and I'm just glad to have some good company."

The Institute
May the 30th, 2289
11:41

Far from the most sociable member of the Directorate and, even more so, the Institute at large, seeing Dr. Madison Li scanning into the Bioscience Division startled more than a few of the Division's younger members and a few classes taking place off the corridor leading into the Division's concourse.

Even more startling was, it seemed, she was in a good mood, from appearance alone.

Her heels tapping lightly against the floor, she paused only when she could have sworn she heard someone chasing her down, heavy footsteps at a running pace. Irritated to turn around and find herself alone, Madison tried to ease up her gait and started down the corridor again and, soon enough, into the concourse. Almost three months of freedom, and I'm still… Not letting her thoughts dwell on it, she pushed it aside, hoping the anxious, sick feeling that latched onto her when the Brotherhood crossed her mind for more than a few seconds would fade on its own. Desensitisation. Expose oneself to something long enough and, more often than not, the sensation will lose its impulsive, negative emotional response. Keeping herself composed, she let out a brief sigh and reminded herself why she was there. Taking a look around, to her surprise, on the other side of the massive concourse and, less surprisingly, in front of the habitat for the gorillas created under the Synth Zoological Initiative, she caught a glance at the man she had been looking for. The closer she got, she noticed he was not alone and, instead, speaking with his rather disgruntled second in command. She paused when she got close enough to hear but not close enough to be noticed, taking a minute to listen, the two men rarely, by the sound and look of it, argumentative with each other in the open.

"…Dr. Karlin, you're doing amazing things with our genetically engineered crops and –"

"…Please stop trying to make yourself seem like you're not absentminded at least a third of the time, Dr. Holdren. You care much more about your pet projects than the actual, important –"

"…What? That's not true at all, Dr. Karlin. I don't spend as much time on the Synth Zoological Initiative as you seem to worry I do. It's on my schedule today to spend a little more time on it than I have in the last few months, in large part because we had to significantly scale it back until Phase Three was complete. It's on my calendar, and I send out an update of it every week."

"…So you're wasting time today on your gorillas and on trying to get me off your back by giving me quite unnecessary compliments?"

"…Is there something wrong with expressing my gratitude for the work you do?"

"…I told you what I would do and, unsurprisingly, I have. Thanking a man for doing his duty is like thanking a dog for barking. Speaking of which, if you could restrict the classes able to interact with the synth dogs to the year eights and up, I'd appreciate it. No one under the age of thirteen or fourteen, apparently, can act maturely about it, and all start fawning over the creatures."

"…Humans naturally have an affinity for other animals, especially those that have proven useful companions to us. They're still popular with those on the surface. Last I heard, the Warwicks have two or three now."

"…I'm well aware, Dr. Holdren, but you still haven't substantively responded to my concerns on your absentmindedness."

"…Dr. Karlin, again, it's all on my calendar and –"

"…Well, it ought not be when we have much more important work to do. I suspect you also preferred to boast about it and the importance of the Bioscience Division during yesterday's meeting with the Directorate? Because I am still rather miffed that you, based on my emails, claimed I need help with my project redeveloping and improving a whole host of medications that –"

"…You said there weren't enough people on the team, and now there are. I thought that was what you wanted, Dr. Karlin."

"…It's the verbiage I resent, not the outcome. Claiming I 'need help,' has a subtle insinuation I don't care for. Whether you mean well or not, whether you get things done or not, I still don't understand how you are the head of Bioscience when you're only thirty six, have a tendency towards absentmindedness, are overly patronising and contemptuous towards me – a man twice your age and with twice the experience – and are far too proud of your own position. It's –"

"Dr. Karlin, if I could interrupt what grievances you might have with Dr. Holdren, I really do need to speak with him, a moment, if you'd be so willing."

Dr. Karlin frowned when he turned to see Madison Li stepping towards him and Dr. Holdren but, with one last glare at the younger man, walked away and back to work in something of a huff.

"I'm not used to seeing you around here, Dr. Li," Clayton said with a polite nod. "What can I do for you?"

"It's nothing to worry about, I'm simply here because it has come to my attention I owe you something of a thanks," Madison gave him a half smile when he blinked, surprised. "It was your idea to use the…Atom Cats, aren't they called? It was your idea to use them and the Minutemen to rescue me and Jacqueline, wasn't it?"

"It was, but I didn't think you'd…" He shook his head. "You don't have to thank me, Madison. We were going to find a way to get the two of you back safely to the Institute, and it just so happened my idea was the one that worked. Having Warwick turned out to be even more useful than we'd ever anticipated because of how useful R2-32 was in leaking the right information to the right people."

"Seeing as there's a decent chance either I or Jacqueline would be dead if you hadn't got that idea in the first place, you've earnt my gratitude," Madison pointedly replied. "I was surprised no one told me. If I'd been told, I would have come by sooner."

"That was on me, I didn't want…it was something that would have needed to be and been done either way, and the people who really deserve our thanks are the Minutemen," Clayton said though he did faintly smile. "But I appreciate it nonetheless. As for the Brotherhood…I think I speak for all of us when I say it's a relief you and Jacqueline escaped relatively unscathed."

"No more of a relief than it is to us," Madison said, hesitating a moment. "She has her first visit home since then soon, though I know we're having to be…even more cautious than we ever have been this time. I'd been hoping she would be able to go for her eighteenth birthday but, clearly, that didn't happen."

"No, although she will probably be able to visit with the good news about having earnt her doctorate, which, I'm sure, will make Gerald feel a lot better about everything," Clayton said. "After meeting him for the first time, what I took away was he is a good person but incredibly paranoid. I'm sure that has a lot to do with the way Kellogg approached the town and, now, of course, because of the Brotherhood."

"I can't say I fault him for it," Madison said. "Though I agree he'll be happy if she's earnt her doctorate by the time she gets to see him again."

"After what the two of you were subjected to and the skill she's shown in her work, I'm sure she has nothing to worry about," Clayton said. "I've already read the chunks of it Father released to the Directorate thus far, as well, and I'm very impressed by her thesis focus on the efficacy and reliability of high powered CNC optical lasers versus those of plasma lasers at high energy states. The subject itself is interesting, but the dedication she's shown to it these last few years is honestly impressive. I really thought she'd be exhausted and need much more of a break than she has."

"I was surprised by that too, although, I'll admit, I did lower her workload a little to ease some of the pressure on her," Madison sighed. "Although it's far from the pressure she's put on herself. I certainly needed some time to decompress, but, admittedly, that's more due to my history with the Brotherhood than anything else."

"Well, we're just glad to have you back," Clayton said, shaking her hand. "I know it might not mean much, but I for one was very happy to have you back. I know Dr. Filmore feels the same."

"Good to know I'm appreciated," Madison faintly smiled. "And, again, thank you for the role you played in getting us back. If anything, I'm simply relieved myself and Jacqueline are alive and I am back where I can do my research in relative peace."

Goodneighbour
June the 1st, 2289
18:43

"Once again, Amari, I truly can't thank you enough for what you've done for me. Working alongside you is the least I can do, seeing as you saved my life."

"All things considered, I'm happy to hear you're interested. Irma might be a good business partner, but she's far from a trained and reliable doctor."

Dr. Rebecca Amari smiled when she sat down across from Dr. Annette Davis, reaching across the table and handing a rather large file to her. Unsurprised, Annette took her thin, oval red reading glasses out from tucked into the v-neck of her dress, slipping them onto her face as she opened the file. Paging through it, she paused upon noticing a few marked pages towards the back of the file. Tugging them out and reading the first few lines, she glanced up at Amari, who calmly had her hands clasped together and resting lightly on the table. The almost perpetually composed doctor only turned when she saw Robert Joseph MacCready coming back into her office, gesturing at the third chair at the table for him to join them. After a moment of hesitation, he did, reaching over to reassuringly rest a hand over one of Annette's, a bit surprised when she twined hers in his and squeezed it. He squeezed hers back when he saw the bit of anxiety held in her shoulders. She began leafing through the file again with her free hand, only pausing every so often to set aside a page or two. She looked back up at Amari when she seemed satisfied with what she had pulled, looking a little more surprised than either woman had anticipated and, albeit briefly, completely silent.

"You've had contact with both the Institute and this…Railroad over the years?" Annette raised an eyebrow when Amari nodded. "I assume your contact with the latter was for the sake of helping…escaped synths, but what did the Institute want from you? Did they try to bring you into their programmes?"

"I'm not quite sure why they sought me out," Amari admitted. "But one of their agents, about thirty or forty years ago came into my, at the time quite small medical practise here in Goodneighbour, very shortly after the town had been founded. I was left unbothered even under the town's original and…rather disturbed leaders due to my ability to patch people up. Seeing as the town was filled with a more than significant amount of people fighting for the sake of fighting, I was at no want for work."

"I can only imagine," Annette remarked. "But how did the Institute become involved?"

"A woman by the name of Dr. Amber Jane Clarkson came into my office, escorted by two synths, one of which, I've come to believe now, was an early model Courser," Amari shook her head. "I have her to thank for nearly all of the advanced technologies I have now, including the memory loungers, but the interloping with her and the Institute ultimately became more than I could take from a moral standpoint. At the time, I was rather desperate for both money and additional resources, and, unfortunately, that meant it took quite a while for my morals to catch up to me. Amber herself too…"

"How long did the two of you work together?" Annette said, closing the file. "If she ended up providing you with much of the equipment you have now?"

"About a decade," Amari said heavily. "After I told her I couldn't reconcile my differences in opinion to the Institute with her and, by extension, them any longer, she left and never returned. I had Irma help me ensure there were no tracking devices and completely debugged the entire Memory Den, which, to little surprise, turned out to be a rather intense undertaking. Still, within a year, we managed it and were officially back to normal business. A little while after, and I was approached by the Railroad and asked to help them smuggle synths out of the Commonwealth. After what I had experienced…I agreed."

Annette nodded. "Did you at least learn a lot from her? I can barely even imagine how much more advanced the Institute's understanding of…well, truthfully, everything must be to what we have."

"It is, though much of it, ironically, you've probably already seen or perhaps even used," Amari said, taking a few seconds to think. "Seeing as you were raised and trained in a Vault."

"Maybe, maybe not," Annette hesitated. "Do you still have anything from then apart from the equipment and, I assume, books and files?"

"I have a great deal of all of those things, though most of the files are stored digitally on my personal computer. I still have the holotapes they were given to me in, but I haven't had to use them in a long time," Amari replied. "Ultimately, I did benefit from my, albeit not quite direct, interactions with the Institute. It was only when she asked me to formally join them that I said no on my moral grounds. To say she was shocked would be an understatement. I do understand why, of course, what with most people looking at medicine as a business these days, but it still was far from what I had hoped for."

"Seeing as it sounds as though it had been a mutually beneficial relationship, I understand why. If I may ask, do you know why she stuck around for so long?" Annette paused when Amari flinched. "I'm so sorry. I suppose that was a rather personal question."

"No, I merely did not expect it," Amari said calmly. "And, yes, I do. It wasn't because she wanted to wear me down and test my intelligence before attempting to convince me to join the Institute. She and I…it became a far more intimate relationship than I had anticipated after about a year of her coming and going from Goodneighbour and, soon after, the Memory Den. Irma and I certainly couldn't have put up the money for it and getting everything to where it is now without her but I grew…more attached."

Annette's face fell. "That's awful, I…I'm sorry," She sighed. "I suppose that's why you feel some bitterness towards the Institute?"

"It is. There are other reasons, of course, morality being towards the top of the list, but what happened between us…" Amari's voice hardened. "I'm not proud of it, but I began to work with Railroad out of, in the beginning, spite. It wasn't until I had gotten to hear the stories of some synths from them personally that I came to feel called to help them. Some of the things I've learnt much more recently about the Institute, as well, have both answered questions I had and strengthened my resolve."

Annette raised an eyebrow. "Anything in particular?"

"It sounds mad, and I certainly wouldn't have believed it if I hadn't been the one running the memory simulation in which it was observed, but the Institute use a teleporter to get people and synths in and out from their facilities," Amari let out a short, mirthless laugh when Annette and MacCready stared at her in shock. "It's unbelievable. I still can't quite believe it myself, but, I suppose, it's not as hard to believe when you consider the fact any of us up here are lucky to get even close to what was known before the War. The Institute are the only people with the time and capacity to develop such a thing, and I shouldn't be surprised they have."

"No kidding," MacCready said, taking off his hat with his free hand and running his hand through his hair. "You could tell me just about anything about the Institute and, with the right facts, I'd probably believe you. And, considering they've made synths almost indistinguishable from us, I'd be more shocked if they hadn't come up with some crazy way to keep themselves hidden."

"I'm not terribly surprised either," Annette said, her lips flattening into a thin line. "At the same time, they're not the only people I suspect are capable of such a thing."

"Really?" Amari said, curiosity piqued. "Whom and for what reasons?"

"Firstly, if they still exist, some of the top people from a handful of pre-War companies, such as Vault-Tec, RobCo, and REPCONN Aerospace," Annette replied. "Having found out, fairly recently myself, that Vault-Tec successfully developed sustainable cryogenics capable of keeping a person in suspension for at least two hundred years, I wouldn't be too shocked if any of the masterminds behind those companies did that for themselves and set a time for them to released."

"Come to think of it, I wouldn't either," Amari mused. "I certainly would be interested in a conversation with any of them if that's the case. I –"

Hearing the doors to her laboratory and personal office open, Amari turned, about to scold whomever it was entered only to restrain herself when she saw it was only Duncan MacCready.

"Duncan?" MacCready said, laughing a little when he saw his son pick up his sunglasses from the table when he reached them. "Those are going to be a little big on you."

Duncan shrugged. "Irma stopped playing cards with me because she said she had clients to attend to," He said simply, sliding his father's sunglasses onto his face with a grin. "No secrets, no smile, is what she told me."

Amari chuckled. "It's good to see you're doing well, Duncan. I'm sure your recovery wasn't easy."

"It wasn't, but I'm all good now," He said before hugging his father. "Daddy made sure I would be!"

"I did my best," MacCready replied, affectionately ruffling his son's hair. "And I'm glad things – for all of us – are finally starting to turn around for the better."

"It's good to see," Amari said, standing up when Annette did and, lightly, grabbing her arm when the younger woman stepped around the table towards her. "I did love her. Amber, that is," She said quietly. "But I wasn't so lucky. I'm sure you already feel this, but don't let what you have go. I'm well aware you've been through and seen quite a lot, and, much as I look forward to us working together, I hope you know you can come to me should you need anything. I never had that…and I don't think anyone else should have to be alone as I was."