Wilhelm felt his body still as he entered the large meeting room. He could see the High Elder and many officials of the Brotherhood sat down at the table.
And the Missing Specialists sat across from them.
He recovered quickly, hoping no one had noticed his momentary hesitation. Mary stepped past him, only giving a small glance as she took her seat quickly. He followed suit, taking an open seat directly across from The High Elder. No one spoke, the only exchange being stern glances that barely lasted a moment. Clover changed it, clearing his throat and setting his hands on the table to break the silence.
"Atlesians, ROCs, I welcome you to the city of Chicago, shall we begin this meeting?" Maxon spoke up, his voice carrying small disdain at the mention of the ROC.
"On behalf of Atlas and her Military, I thank you for allowing us to attend," Wilhelm replied, glancing around the room and allowing his artificial eye to record the details of the room around him. His gaze lingered on the Atlesian Specialists, taking in their condition and wear.
"I understand you wish to engage in this meeting for the men and women from your expedition fleet?" Maxon inquired.
"Yes, it plays a part in it," Wilhelm replied, knowing that there was no point in dancing around the topic.
"Then I am sorry to disappoint you, but those recovered are in no condition to be moved," Maxon stated.
Wilhelm turned his gaze to the Specialists; "Is this true?" he asked them.
"Yes," Was all Clover said.
Wilhelm turned back to Maxon, gesturing for him to continue. Maxon tilted his head to one of the men in power armor. "The ships recovered were heavily contaminated with radiation, a fully grown man would be dead in less than half an hour." They said. "A third of those we found have already passed away from radiation poisoning." They continued. Wilhelm felt his fist clenched as a sorrowful look spread across his face.
"I understand your pain, I know how it must feel," Maxon spoke up.
"The others?" Wilhelm asked.
"The others are recovering in a large medical center, either in quarantine as the radiation decays or amongst their fellow soldiers." The same person in power armor spoke up. Wilhelm gave a small glance to Clover and the other Specialists, receiving a small nod of confirmation from them.
"What of those who are fully recovered? And what of the ships?" Wilhelm inquired.
'We can't speak for the men, but the ships are another story, one for Hadrien to tell." Maxon said, gesturing to the now-named Hadrien.
"Two of the ships had crashed when we came upon them, making recovery of anything but the crew impossible," Hadrien stated. Wilhelm could only nod, digging his fingernails into his palms to maintain his composure. "The others had enough power for hazard teams to fly and land them north of the city, from there we've had teams working day and night to scrub the vessels of radiation," Hadrien explained. Wilhelm almost sighed, before he caught himself.
"What of those that can be brought home?" Wilhelm inquired.
"Will you simply take them and return later?" Maxon inquired.
Wilhelm paused, his mind running through potential options. He felt a small tap on his leg, running his hand down, and finding a small note resting against it. He pressed his hands together under his nose and glanced down, allowing him to read the note. 'An embassy may be required.' was all he read. "I believe a more permanent solution would be required, we can not just leave our men here indefinitely," Wilhelm stated.
"Then let us hear it?" Maxon inquired.
"An embassy should be set up, it would allow for better organization and even let some of the recovering troops send messages back home," Wilhelm said.
Maxon nodded, though some of his men seemed angered at such a suggestion. "It will take time to debate such a thing, in the meantime I believe you wish to reconnect with your fellow Specialists," Maxon said. Wilhelm didn't speak, only nodding in response. "Now, does the ROC require anything from the Brotherhood?" Maxon inquired, his gaze seemingly burning into Mary's eyes.
"No, we are simply here for escort and moderation," Mary replied, unphased by Maxon's gaze.
Wilhelm stood up, watching as his fellow Specialists did the same. As he walked out, the other Specialists following suit, he glanced back as Mary remained in her seat. He turned back, his gaze turning back to the Specialists as the doors closed behind them.
"So, nice to see you, Wilhelm," Clover spoke up.
"It's good to see you all alive," Wilhelm replied, his gaze still lingering on the doors.
"Who was the chick?" Harriet inquired behind them.
"That was Mary, the representative of the ROC," Wilhelm answered automatically.
"Wilhelm, what has happened while we have been... indisposed?" Clover inquired.
"The four Kingdoms met with the Wasteland Coalition and numerous deals were made," Wilhelm explained.
"And the Brotherhood weren't part of it?" Winter spoke up.
"No, the relations between the Brotherhood of Steel and members of the Coalition are tense at best," Wilhelm said.
"I see," Clover said as many of the other Specialists looked down.
"Who can we send home?" Wilhelm asked.
"A few of us, I intend to stay until the last of our men are cleared to return," Clover said.
"As will I," Vine stated.
"I understand, who would be sent home first?" Wilhelm inquired.
"I volunteer." Marrow said.
"I'll go," Harriet added in.
"Schnee, Ederne?" Wilhelm turned his gaze to the two Specialists.
"We'll stand with Clover and Vine while the men recover," Winter said as Elm just nodded.
"It will take time, but I am glad that you are all fine," Wilhelm said. "I hope that all-" Wilhelm was cut off as the doors opened and Mary stepped out.
"They are ready to continue the meeting," She stated.
Wilhelm nodded; "We'll continue this later." he said before walking back into the room.
Walking through the streets of Vale, Ulysses adjusted the scarf covering the bottom half of his face. His eyes shifted from street to street as the lamps illuminated the nightlife of the city. When he had first arrived at Six's request, a chance to escape the monotony of watching over Vegas and the outer Mojave region. It was a strange sight to bear witness to, akin to a mirror of the NCR with a greater quality of life.
Yet, there was a darkness featuring underneath. A rise in the theft of Dust, and the increasingly aggressive actions of the White Fang, all happening as a worldwide event comes to Vale. The appearance of the Wasteland had offset such things, The White Fang had pulled back their actions, the continuous theft of Dust slowed, and the Vital Festival is still happening.
Then he paused, his eyes narrowed as he saw two Faunus walking into the more seedy part of the city. He could see the weapons of huntsmen and huntresses in their grasp, the complex mechanics hidden to any but the untrained eyes betraying their true nature. Carefully, he began trailing them, sticking to shadows and back corners as the two teenagers continued on their path. It wasn't long before the two of them approached a large warehouse and dawned the masks of the White Fang. He followed, activating a Stealth Boy as he made his way into the building. His form only a shimmer as the two teens continued into the main room of the warehouse.
He could see other Faunus with masks gathered in front of a stage. A Faunus with two large ram horns stood atop the stage, spouting rhetoric that Ulysses only half listened to. What caught his attention was a large map being displayed on the stage, the image of what appeared to be the West and East Coasts of the Wasteland. He pulled out a small camera and began taking pictures, careful not to attract attention to himself.
"The Four Kingdoms don't want the Faunus, if they saw us all disappear they wouldn't bat an eye." The Ram Faunus spouted. "We can have a new start, here... and here." The Ram Faunus pointed to two areas in the northern parts of the Wasteland. Both were far north of any member of the Coalition, but the fact the White Fang was aiming to take parts of the Wasteland was still concerning. "Join the White Fang and we will create a better future for the Faunus," The Ram Faunus finished his speech, looking out at the small group around the stage.
Ulysses' gaze turned back to the pair of Faunus he had followed. Confusion was written into the expression of the girl, while the boy appeared to be shaking his head. As the Ram left the stage two other White Fang members began taking down the display. Ulysses took a few more pictures before checking the small watch on his wrist. He only had a short amount of time before the Stealth Boy would wear off. He made his way out, shifting between the shadows around him as he left the building. He hid in the shadows as the stealth boy wore off, taking a moment to look through the pictures taken of the meeting.
Then he heard the two teenagers pass by the alleyway he was hiding in.
"I don't get it, just a few months ago the White Fang were working with Torchwick, and now they're shouting about taking the Wasteland." The girl said.
"I mean, a whole new continent showed up out of nowhere, I can imagine such a place would seem like prime real estate for the White Fang." The boy replied.
"Still, the fact that they were working with Torchwick at all has to be uncovered." The girl shot back.
Ulysses crept closer, a new lead now in front of him. He would send these pictures back to Vegas later, there was more information to dig up.
Hazel leaned back as the fires roared around the camp beneath the Bullhead. The stress of the past few days, constantly unlocking the aura of Centurians and other Legionnaires for days had left him tired.
"These few days will be tough, flying over the Wasteland in this coffin will test the men's resolve." The voice next to him spoke up. Hazel just turned, looking at the Frumentari, Lost Eyes, now seated next to him. They had met not long after the spree of aura unlocking swept through the Legion, even going so far as to meet with Salem on their own. Many other Frumentari were seated within the Bullhead's cargo bay, chatting with Tyrion no doubt. "It will be unique, stepping into such a world." Lost Eyes commented.
"Perhaps, but I still question why you were so eager to join us?" Hazel inquired.
"Great Ceasar, The Monster of the East, holds little value for the skills of the Frumentari." Lost Eyes answered. "The Old Ceasar, when the current one was known as Legate Lanius, made use of us to weaken enemy supply lines and demoralize their soldiers." Lost Eyes continued. "When I saw the eyes of your Goddess, I saw the eyes of someone who possesses the same ruthless intellect as our old Ceasar." Lost Eyes reasoned, Hazel had to suppress a shudder at the idea that he considered Salem a Goddess.
"You consider her to be the better choice?" Hazel asked.
"The current Ceasar cares little for anything other than leading in battle, he considered the Frumentari as nothing more than a dishonorable waste of resources." Lost Eyes stated. "Of the men you met, of those within the cargo bay, they are but a small number of what our organization had once been." Lost Eyes said before clenching his fists. "Between the dogged pursuit taken by the NCR and the fledging STN following the second battle of Hoover Dam and our own leader's disdain for us, we are but a shadow of our former selves." Lost Eyes explained.
"So I've heard," Hazel said lazily.
"Alas, your Goddess will allow us to use our skills the way they were meant to be." Lost Eyes said.
"Are there others?" Hazel inquired, a nervous chill in his spine.
"Yes, before we left I gave an order to the remaining Frumentari, as we speak they are making way to sow disorder against those near our borders." Lost Eyes said. "The Forty men stuffed in the cargo bay are but my most trusted and skilled of the Frumentari." Lost Eyes said.
"Do you intend to have the others join us later?" Hazel asked.
"Should the opportunity arise, perhaps, but the logistics and organization would pose a challenge." Lost Eyes said. "Regardless, I look forward to working with you and the others in the future." Lost Eyes said. Hazel felt a shutter wreck his spine as his grip tightened on the controls.