Far Harbour
October the 1st, 2289
18:17
It was, nearly done with their meal, in the Last Plank with her friend, the Minutemen, and the detective and detective's secretary, Kasumi Nakano felt herself again.
The multiple, varied scan images of her own brain secured in the largest pack she could find while scrambling to get all of her things together to leave Acadia, Kasumi contentedly sat, taking in conversation around her, occasionally chiming in at the lighthearted nudge under the table of her friend Ada across from her. The two girls snickered at something they whispered to each other under their breaths, every so often snatching at each other's fries or, as the detective so stubbornly referred to them, chips. Her thoughts meandering, Kasumi took another long sip of the strawberry milkshake the detective had procured for her. Don't know how he made that happen on an Island this remote, but I missed these. Hopefully mom's berry patches are all still doing well. She turned towards the door into the establishment from where she was sat in one of the booths as the clacking and clanging of the windchimes rang out and were cut off by the slamming shut of the door in quick succession. The chatter in the establishment far from abating for or in response to she who entered, the attention of those beside and across from Kasumi was quickly drawn towards she who entered at the woman in question snagging a chair over and sitting down on it, her gun falling to the floor beside her and the chair oriented backwards, almost as though it were a horse and not a chair. Her green eyes glinted mischievously behind her thick rimmed, black glasses, and she turned her gaze to the General of the Minutemen, trying not to smile.
"Avery said the town council decided you'll have to perform the Captain's Dance before they'll let some of your Minutemen join the town from the mainland?" She said, unable to hide the smirk darting across her face when he nodded. "Well, seeing as we both desperately need more hands on deck and I'd like to win another bet against Allen, I'm going to help you."
Preston laughed. "Still causing mischief all these years later, Caitlin? Didn't you always talk about wanting to perform the Captain's dance as a kid?"
"That's got nothing to do with helping you out," She replied, stretching out her hands. "And I am not a child anymore. I'm the shipwright, handyman, and the only one keeping the Harbour afloat besides Captain Avery. The ship-body and keel have taken a beating the last few months, to be sure, but she might not be standing at all if it weren't for some of the help you've given. Or," Her eyes glinted mischievously and another smirk darted across her face. "The spite you've stirred up in coming back."
"I'd been gone a good long while, but I did hope to come back and help one day with the Minutemen," Preston could not help but smile. "I'm plenty happy to do what I have to in order to provide you all some additional support."
"What's the Captain's Dance?" Kasumi said, finishing her milkshake and pushing the empty glass aside. "Is it a pre-War ritual?"
"Not pre-War," She said, cracking her knuckles. "But it is a rite of passage from around here, 'bout the last hundred and fifty years. It used to be how we chose the Captain, but, the more of us there've been, the more unified we've had to be, especially as we've been crammed closer and closer together for the last fifty or so odd years."
"Longer," A gruff voice said from behind her. "Little less than a century, from everything I've learnt."
Caitlin rolled her eyes, leaning back to look at him. "Sometimes I forget you can talk, Longfellow."
"I ain't one for much chatting," He said, taking a swig from the flask of beer in his hands. "Good to hear you're going home," He said, briefly tilting his head at Kasumi before turning to Derek. "Also heard what that synth from Acadia was saying 'bout you from the rad eaters. Guess he's trying to sow doubt over your good intentions but, at least here in the Harbour, you don't need to worry about it. I should know. We ex-Brotherhood members all got a certain look to our eyes."
Derek raised an eyebrow, adjusting his glasses. "You were in the Brotherhood?"
"Retired back in '57 but had been serving with them out on the West Coast since '31. After almost thirty years of service since I was fifteen, they didn't give me much grief about retiring," Longfellow let out a short chuckle. "Used to fly restored, pre-War helicopters and retired as a Paladin. They were trying to restore them vertibirds back then, too, but never quite managed it, though I've heard they've finally done it and brought some out to the Commonwealth proper. As for me, I wandered towards the East Coast for a little shy of a year to find somewhere quiet to live and eventually found it here."
"And have been the local grump ever since and been her long enough we consider you a native. You got the stories of the fog to back that up for you, been here longer than you were in the Brotherhood," Caitlin said, pulling a wrench from her toolbelt and waving it at him. "And annoyed my aunt Stacey until she threatened to shoot you once."
"She still telling that story after all these years is all the proof we need for her being eccentric, Mariner," Longfellow chortled. "All I did wrong was come by her house to ask her for some more electrical wiring supplies and she pulled a gun on me telling me I'd taken more than enough of her stash without paying her for it!"
"That was because you'd been coming by and doing that for almost six weeks," Caitlin rolled her eyes and adjusted her thick rimmed glasses. "She was just trying to enjoy herself in peace and quiet, and up and comes you stomping towards her front door day after day after day after day!"
"I needed 'em bad, and I wasn't as pushy as Allen can be," Longfellow rolled his eyes and popped the cap off a beer he had pulled out of his jacket pockets. "'Course you be taking after your aunt with that."
"How so?" Ada pressed, looking between them excitedly.
Caitlin shrugged, miming pressing a buzzer at the teenager. "I can't stand the son of a bitch," She said with a conspiratorial edge as she lowered her voice, taking a glimpse around to ensure the man in question had not entered the establishment. "Don't go telling people," She went on with a smirk when she was sure. "But I have an alarm set for every thirty seven minutes that emits a frequency into his shop that only he, my 'great' neighbour, Allen, can hear because I hate him and his bitching that much."
"I'm lucky Stacey ain't that resourceful or smart," Longfellow took a swig of his beer before turning to Preston. "Heard you're going to be performing the Captain's Dance. I'd offer you luck but seeing as them rad eaters and Acadia's little mastermind ain't killed you, I 'spect you'll do just fine."
Preston smiled. "Thanks, Longfellow."
"Sure, sure," He responded, rolling back his shoulders and, with a last nod at Derek, shuffling past them towards the bar. "Hope you got something decent shit for me today, Mitch, 'cause I'm all out at the cabin!"
Kasumi laughed, taking a brief look at the man hoisting himself up onto a barstool and resting his large pack to one side of it and his gun to the other before turning back to those she was sat with. Stretching out her arms a little, she turned to Preston, Nick, Ellie, and Derek and smiled.
"I…I know it was…a lot but thank you for going through the trouble of making sure I got…I got the truth," She said, pulling her backpack from being wedged against the wall in the booth beside her into her lap and briefly looking at the file holding the scans of her brain within it. "I can't believe I was so stupid," She muttered to herself, pulling out and then putting back one of the scans. "I'm not a synth. No synth component, no nothing, just a stupid girl who –"
"You're not stupid," Ada said, leaning forward towards her and briefly clicking her fingers in front of her face. "You basically got drawn into a cult. Could've happened to anyone. I mean, how the hell else do the Children Of Atom get their members?"
"I wouldn't call all sects of the Children a cult," Derek chided.
"But she's right, Kasumi," Preston said, reaching over to shake her hand. "And you're going home now. I'll stop by after I get things sorted here, but are you going to be alright going back with just Nick, Derek, Ada, and Ellie?"
Kasumi paused for a few seconds but then nodded. "Yeah, I will be," She said, with another, brief smile. "It'll be good to be back. I had a lot of projects in the boathouse. Now, I'll get to finish them."
"That's the spirit!" Caitlin said, reaching across the table to smack both her palms against Kasumi's. When she moved back, she did so strong arming Preston around the shoulders with a smirk before letting him go and picking up her gun from where she'd left it at her feet. "You're going to be alright kid, and we," She said, elbowing Preston who started laughing a little. "Are going to blow everyone in this town that said he ain't a Harbour man at heart out of the fucking water."
Goodneighbour
October the 5th, 2289
20:52
Three days away.
The walk from Sanctuary to Goodneighbour was one that took, at worst, twelve hours; anything from bad weather to raiders could disrupt the trek but, much to the relief of one Nora Jacqueline Norwich, the last two times she had made the trek from Goodneighbour to Sanctuary and, now, Sanctuary to Goodneighbour, the trip had been smooth. Realising she had run a good four hours of the nine it had taken her, however, put an ache in her for the lost better days; when running from home in Plainville to the then Fenway Park Baseball Stadium had taken around that time, been in a similar cadence, and had been for fun in high school.
Having spent three days away from home in Sanctuary and instead in the home of Dr. Annette Christine Davis and Robert Joseph MacCready, it was knowing Cait was right that she needed to talk to someone other than her and the Minutemen that both sparked a sense of comfort in her and a guilt for leaving despite it having been Cait's suggestion. Still, sat at the kitchen island and staring at the screen of her Pip-Boy as she flicked through its screens, a gnawing anxiety refused to leave her, and for that she had grown to resent the feeling. If something were wrong with Cait, or Nico, or anyone else, Sturges or Preston would have messaged or contacted me through my Pip-Boy's radio. And I'm going back in a few days. I… She looked up suddenly from fiddling with her Pip-Boy at the sound of one of the doors to the apartment creaking open. Leaping off the couch and dropping the comic book he had been reading, six year old Duncan MacCready ran over to his father and tightly hugged him as he closed and locked the door to the apartment behind himself. Nora briefly waved at the both of them when MacCready did so first, but her face fell almost as soon as the former gunner let his son go and the little boy ran off to his room, grabbing his comic book and humming to himself. She turned towards the balcony door in surprise when it, too, opened and then quickly shut; the tired face of Dr. Annette Davis only brightening a moment when she sat down at the kitchen island across from Nora once more and MacCready sat down beside her with an affectionate kiss to the cheek.
"October air is good for something, I suppose," Annette said, pulling off her thin red reading glasses and brushing her almost ankle length braid over her left shoulder. "I know the smoking doesn't bother you, but…I think I needed the cold, just for a few minutes."
Nora nodded. "Sometimes it makes everything feel better, but are you sure you're feeling alright?"
"I've been feeling sick the last week and a half, and, to tell you the truth, I think it might have something to do with the fact I haven't been able to – just the scent of alcohol has turned me to retching – drink in well over a month," Annette hesitated. "I've been smoking more, and…well, I've gone through phases of trying to drink less for…for longer than I'd care to admit but, regardless, I hope this one will be the one to last. If I have to replace one vice with enough, I'll take cigarettes over wine without question. At least cigarettes don't make me violently ill the next day."
MacCready sighed. "I'm glad you're feeling better than you have been, but let me know if you start feeling worse again," He gently pressed the back of his hand to her forehead. "I can take some time away from my jobs for Hancock if you need me to take care of you. I know how hard the last few weeks have been falling on you."
"I can't deny that, Bobby," She hesitated, looking back to Nora when his hand dropped to rest over hers on the kitchen island of which they were sat around. "And I am sorry for being so…startled when you asked if we could sync our Pip-Boys. I rarely use it, these days, when I'm not at work and…well, I'm afraid I've been terribly sensitive about it of late."
"You had every reason to be," Nora said kindly. "I had no idea your father had…that you still had his Pip-Boy or it's been so soon after the anniversary of his murder."
"It's of no fault of your own, and, quite frankly, it has also simply been several years since I last synced my Pip-Boy with anyone else's," Annette paused a few seconds in thought. "Gwen McNamara, Dr. Priscilla Penske, and Dr. Jacob Forsythe were the last people I regularly communicated with via my Pip-Boy, and that was while I had my stay in Vault 81 before I had traced…a former member of the Vault I had been raised in to Covenant."
"Finding out there was at least one Vault in this state that didn't destroy people's lives certainly made me feel a little better," Nora said, a flicker of bitterness crossing over her face. "Although it sounded like that was down to sheer dumb luck more than anything else."
"It was. I, for one, no longer take the safety I had in the Vault I grew up in for granted," Annette glanced at her Pip-Boy left on the kitchen island. "I was a bit surprised, when I had, albeit temporarily, joined Vault 81 to find there had been a cadre of Pip-Boy variants. Region specific, if I were to guess."
"I'm not sure if it was region specific, but I do…" Nora shook her head. "I only met him once but Robert House – the CEO whose company developed the Pip-Boy – was the godfather of one of my close friends before the War, and she actually had multiple models of the Pip-Boy."
MacCready raised an eyebrow and smirked. "So, you weren't kidding when you told me, Piper, and Cait how you once were rubbing shoulders with some of the key players in the world before the War."
"I wasn't," Nora briefly laughed before turning back to Annette. "She was studying nuclear engineering and not robotics and software development, but she always had a fondness for tech. Hell, she kept an MP3 player and a mobile phone because she didn't want to 'waste the storage or battery' of her mobile. But I know she had one like yours – the standard Pip-Boy 3000 – one like mine – the Pip-Boy 3000 MK IV – and an incredibly slim, streamlined stainless steel one which I think was the Pip-Boby 3000 MK V."
"I'd certainly be curious to see the similarities between ours and that last," Annette said. "Did you ever see any others?"
"I did," Nora said, her shoulders tensing towards each other when she got a message on her Pip-Boy's screen. "Desdemona really couldn't make this any harder, could she?" She muttered to herself when she read the message before replying quickly to Sturges. "I was in my first year studying law," She said after sending off the reply. "And, during spring break that year, Katie asked me if I wanted to go to Las Vegas with her. She grew up in Henderson just a little ways out, and I said yes; another friend of ours, one I went to high school with, Kate Leavitt went too. It was a lot of fun, and, since our spring break coincided that year with the American Economic Forum – which was being held in Vegas for I think the third year in a row, partly because their primary partner was RobCo – we stopped to see the Pip-Boy exhibition."
"And, so, there we have the story of how Nora Norwich managed to brush shoulders with Robert House," MacCready snickered. "I haven't heard a whole lot of stories about the man, but I'm guessing he was at least a little bit intimidating."
"Less than I'd expected," Nora confessed, twining her hands and in and out of each other. "He was as charming in person as he was in interviews. Of course, it probably helped that I was with his goddaughter because I doubt I'd have gotten anywhere near him if it weren't for my being such a close friend of Katie Rose Masters," She paused when Annette startled. "Are you alright?"
"Katie Rose Masters?" Annette shook her head when Nora nodded. "I see," She went silent, staring down at her hands. "Did you know," She eventually said, her voice a little quieter. "That her father was one of the founders of the East Coast Brotherhood Of Steel?"
"What?" Nora stared at her for a few seconds. "Admiral Masters founded the Brotherhood?"
"At least on this coast, yes," Annette said, an edge of bitterness slipping into her voice. "From what little I know of him, he was a decent person with good intentions. Certainly was devoted to his family. He broke the law and military protocol to tell his wife to go to a Vault they were on the list for alongside their daughter, and that he would follow as soon as possible with their son and their son's fiancée. Then again, even though he was a decent person with good intentions and a devotee to his wife and children in the end, he was also a blatant hypocrite."
"I can believe it," MacCready said, wrapping a reassuring arm around her shoulders and letting Annette lean into him.
"How…" Nora eventually said. "How so?"
"How was he a blatant hypocrite?" Annette frowned. "Well, for a start, he knew of Vault-Tec's plans to conduct experiments in some of their Vaults and yet continued to own significant stock in Vault-Tec; he knew of the US Military's FEV Programme, which he vocally disapproved of but did not aggressively push to stop in order to, I'm sure, ensure his security in his position as a Full, Four Star Admiral; and, I would argue most egregiously, was even more powerful than his wife, the CFO of a major US corporation, the both of them well connected professionally and with their friends, and yet decided the escalation of the War to nuclear was a step too far and not what came before it, which was, in my opinion, the sole impetus for his agreeing to form the Brotherhood with Roger Maxson."
"He knew about Vault-Tec…" Nora paused, running a hand through her hair. "Oh, God. How many people actually…"
"That I don't have the answer to," Annette said, a coldness settling over her voice. "What he did with the Brotherhood showed his true character in the end, and that, when all was said and done with the War, he spent the rest of his life dedicated to protecting the people who survived from what became the Enclave and to trying to find his wife and daughter or, at least, receive confirmation they made it to the Vault and survived."
"Did he…" Nora chewed at the inside of her cheek. "Did he ever find out?"
"About what happened to his wife and daughter? No, not to my knowledge," Annette snapped. A few seconds passed in silence and, then, she shook her head. "I'm sorry, Nora. To put it bluntly, I don't think his organisation have lived up to the character he showed himself to be possessed of in the end."
Nora nodded. "And those of us in civilian life never stood a chance."
"Against the War? No, that much is abundantly clear. As for the Brotherhood, and I would rather not dwell on them longer than I must, my understanding is he, Captain Roger Maxson, and Brigadier General Andrea Von Felden, the latter of whom was also on the East Coast the day of the War, had come to an agreement that, were the worst to happen in their time, some amount of order would be needed in the aftermath. They, also, had no faith in the government whose military they served would be able to provide that and be responsible with their leadership and truth telling in the aftermath of a nuclear war. As it turned out, they were right on that account."
Silence settled over them again. A bit uneasily, Nora looked to her Pip-Boy and began to flick through its screens again for a moment, looking for new messages only to find none.
"On that happy note, Piper, Lissy, and I are going to retrieve the bug you helped Piper place on McDonough…what was it, last year?" MacCready laughed when Nora turned to him in surprise. "Piper gets first dibs on hearing what it recorded, but I promised Hancock he'd be second. He's always looking for more reasons to levy grievances against his brother."
Nora half heartedly laughed too. "Shit, I'd more or less forgotten about that. Hopefully it recorded something worth hearing and didn't begin recording over itself because it ran out of storage. I probably should have suggested retrieving it months ago."
"Don't worry about it," MacCready told her with a dismissive wave of his free hand. "You've had a heck of a lot more important things to worry about."
"I think we all have," Nora said, a tired sigh escaping her. "And I…I almost wish I never had to learn how little we all knew."
The Institute
October the 9th, 2289
11:59
Typically used for processing and studying blood samples from the surface, the restricted, Bioscience Laboratory 3E had become all too familiar to the members of the Institute Directorate in the matter of only four months when it was not in active use; so much so that, of all the restricted laboratories in the Bioscience Division, it was the one they had settled on as being the best to meet in without fear of intrusion by any of their colleagues or the Director and his father.
The first of them to arrive had been Dr. Madison Brianne Li whom herself, for nearly a half an hour, had sat stiffly at the table; she looked not at her notes, physical or on her laptop, and she looked not at her ID badge resting atop her closed laptop as she could feel it under her intermittently tapping hands. She simply stared at the door into the laboratory – the only door into the laboratory, as she forced herself to recall at every entry made by her colleagues – with her gaze growing narrower and, it seemed, every nerve in her body tensing and hesitantly easing the tiniest bit with every time the door opened. The first to arrive after her, no more than five or seven minutes after, she reckoned, had been Dr. Allison Stacey Filmore; tired by her gait and by the brief, frustrated sigh she let out upon receiving a message on her personal pager; Quentin, Madison guessed, had likely gotten into something or somewhere he was not supposed to and, hopefully, not while driving his little sister around in the little robotic car Jacqueline had helped him make alongside Liam Binet. As it were, Dr. Alan Timothy Binet arrived a few minutes after Dr. Filmore, himself accompanied not by his son Liam but instead by Dr. Clayton Caleb Holdren; both the head of Institute Robotics and Institute Bioscience in a considerably better mood than herself or Dr. Filmore. Dr. Alana Jennine Secord stepped in last, just a minute before their off the books meeting was set to begin, and the sharp snap of the door closing behind her, the hum of the access buzzer being turned on, and the clicking of the locks into place did, for the briefest of moments, let the tension clawing at Dr. Madison Li abate.
"The Brotherhood seem to still be struggling to find anyone who can restart their work on reconstructing Liberty Prime," Alana said with a look of smug amusement on her face when she sat down at the table with her colleagues. "Whomever the 'Mechanist' was, it seems they weren't up to the task. Good news for us, especially knowing there have been no further reports of their robotic menaces out in the Commonwealth since the Brotherhood caught them."
Madison frowned. "We're on borrowed time in stopping the Brotherhood's work in reconstructing Liberty Prime. We have been since Jacq and I made it back here alive, and I have no doubt in my mind the Brotherhood could find someone to undo the mess we left them with and who could resolve Liberty Prime's energy consumption and distribution problems for them at any time. At this point, we need to focus on finding a way to destroy the pieces of Prime beyond repair without showing them much of our hand. Being pleased about their incapacity to get Prime up and running again on their own would be stupid, and sitting on our hands feeling superior to them will only give them time to do that."
"If you're saying you think sabotaging Liberty Prime beyond repair should be our priority ahead of even destroying the Brotherhood, then I agree with you, Madison," Alana frigidly replied. "If you're implying I do not understand and do not recognise how crucial at the very least inhibiting the Brotherhood's influence in the Commonwealth is or that I do not want their threat neutralised, then you are wrong. I understand you, more than anyone else in this room, have every reason to want to eliminate the Brotherhood, but focusing on that and not on the specific threats they pose is chasing a vendetta and not a solution."
"Considering what was done to her and Jacqueline, I would say that's more than understandable, Alana," Allie said, lightly probing her forehead and fleetingly closing her eyes. "Notwithstanding, that is a subject, at least, we can present to Shaun and get a reasonable response to. Certainly when it comes to appropriating resources."
"One of the few things he seems to be fully honest about," Madison said under her breath before shaking her head. "He did," She eventually said. "Officially approve my request to bring a former student of mine into the Institute about a month and a half ago, and, thankfully, left the planning of how to do so to my discretion. That said, if she's feeling up to it, seeing as the two of them are close enough in age, I'd like to bring Jacqueline with me to Diamond City to discuss doing so with him. I'm not sure how his parents will react, and I hope they'll be supportive of either decision he makes, but I know…I am a little concerned about it."
Allie faintly smiled. "I'm sure Jacq would enjoy it."
"And, while I can't speak to his parents, having M7-62 there and constantly monitoring the city will help immensely in ensuring it'll be safe for you to do go," Alan said, trying not to smile himself. "And I hope he still has the interest in robotics you mentioned, or will, at least, be willing to continue the research he's started with examining some of Kellogg's cybernetics. It's always great to have outside minds on our development teams, especially those unrelated to synth production."
"Yes, well…" Madison cast a wary glance at Alana. "I suppose I do owe you a thanks for giving me the additional information on Emmett and the work he has been doing these last few years at Diamond City's Science! Centre. I'd much prefer to receive the information directly from you rather than having to trust Shaun to provide me all of the materials. Our meeting with him back at the end of August wasn't as bad as I had thought it would be, but, still…I cannot bring myself to trust him again. Not yet, at any rate, and certainly not in the near future."
"I'm well aware," Alana said curtly.
"What interested me most," Clayton said a bit uneasily, the tension between the two beginning to tie nervous knots in his chest. "Is that he seemed to be using a lot of what you taught him about engineering hydroponics in their labs. I know you left a lot of notes he used to study well after you were gone from Rivet City but, still, considering the last time you taught him personally was when he was – around nine, wasn't it? – it's…it's great to see."
"That laboratory and its engineering were far from being even mostly my work. With the hydroponics, Janet –" Madison's hands curled over each other and she went silent a few seconds. "Janice," She began again, tightening her hands over each other to stop them moving. "Began working in the labs when she was fourteen. I still don't know quite how she ended up in Rivet City, but, either way, I did much of her training myself, and she quickly proved herself to be one of the best I've ever had the privilege to see, once I got her to focus and into the routine of studying and training and, eventually, her own research and projects. The success in eventually growing radiation free foods from specimens outside of Rivet City or containment? That was entirely her success."
"I'm sure she would've been as much of an asset to the Institute as you are, Madison," Alan said kindly. "I know her murder was –"
"It was unnecessary, it was heartless, and one of the few things I grant the Brotherhood credit for and am supportive of them having done was eliminating the Enclave and, in particular, Augustus Autumn for his senselessly killing both Janice and Jam –" Madison cut herself off, taking a breath. "That…that was ten years ago. I don't want to dwell on it, I will not discuss this any further or again, and especially not when all of you are well aware it was one of many things that led me to abandon my old life and seek out the Institute."
"Then you should perhaps leave your impulse towards vengeance against the Brotherhood at the door," Alana said with an unwavering critical gaze at her. "Otherwise, it is relevant, and it will be discussed between the five of us."
"Things topside are a living hell, Alana, you know it probably better than anyone else," Allie said calmly. "Madison is right. We're here because we have to be clear on what we have before us ahead of any Directorate meeting including Shaun and/or Nathaniel, not to hold an inquisition against each other."
"Very true," Alan agreed.
"And, if this will put it to rest," Madison sent Alana a cold and pointed look. "I never have understood why we in the Institute are so damn selfish but, after what happened to me and Jacqueline, I do now appreciate and understand why it may very well be better we keep to ourselves more often than not."
"I wish that weren't the case, but you're right," Clayton shook his head. "I…try not to think too much about it. Things above ground, that is. In a lot of ways, those people are the last of a dying, horrific past and it's best not to dwell on the subject. We have more than enough to occupy ourselves here, and, well, look at the people we've brought in from the surface. We're saving lives, and, maybe, with Phase Three fully implemented, we can move beyond simply scientific pursuits and enjoy things like films, like literature…art, even. I know a lot of people already do – including me – but think about how much more we can do now."
Alan briefly chuckled. "I do enjoy a good film every now and again and I doubt anyone could get through the entirety of the pre-War catalogue we have of films and television in a single lifetime. But, on a serious note," He looked down sombrely. "It may be idealistic of me, but I'd like to see a future where the Brotherhood are, if not gone then perhaps moderately cooperative, so that we can have a more open presence on the surface. Potentially one, even, cooperating with some of those in the Commonwealth, as we have done successfully in our…albeit reluctant and informal collaboration, in most cases, with the Minutemen. It is a living hell up there, but there could be potential if the threat posed by the Brotherhood is out of the picture."
"Idealistic might be an understatement," Allie trepidatiously said, an edge of a warning to her voice. "But I do sometimes wonder if expanding our open presence in the Commonwealth might be another motive behind Shaun's luring of his mother to the Institute. If it is and she is as close with the Minutemen as she appears, we might have a minutia of a chance at that given our understanding with them."
"You are all being idealistic," Alana irritably put in, letting out a frustrated sigh. "To give a damn about the surface is –"
"They're still people, and they're suffering," Clayton suddenly snapped, going quiet when he realised what he had said. Maybe we are more alike than I thought, Dr. Karlin. "We can at least admit it's regrettable if we're not going to seriously consider taking steps to making it better."
"Seeing as we have neutralising the threat of the Brotherhood and ascertaining beyond a shadow of a doubt whether or not the so called 'Railroad' are still active to address imminently, I will take the approach that little else matters beyond that even if the rest of you won't," Alana said before a brief scoff escaped her. "And, if the so called 'Railroad' are still active, then I'm sure they're incentivising some particularly stupid synths to leave or attempt to leave the Institute."
Madison narrowed her eyes. "Apparently, then, the rest of us differ in opinion to you. This is all far from cut and dry."
"And our synths are not stupid," Alan said defencively, his gaze hardening when Alana looked to him. "They're either being misled or believe they'd be better off above ground and, if it's the latter, we have failed to treat them properly and fairly."
Diamond City
October the 12th, 2289
23:32
Though far from being a surly bastard as was the Third Rail's very own Whitechapel Charlie, the Colonial Taphouse's Wellingham was as reliable an informant for anyone (in Whitechapel's case) with enough money or (in Wellingham's case) a certain je-ne-sais-quoi the otherwise elitist Mister Handy unit was possessed by.
"Something new, darling," Wellingham had said, quietly friendly and conspiratorial in tone to his battered red and faded yellow coat clad associate. "First is a rumour; Ann Codman is offering good money for other people's hair. Second is cold fact; McDonough is consistently spending Saturday evenings and nights in Geneva's apartment, sneaking out in the wee hours of the morning with the help of some members of security. Get security out of the way, and that'll be just about the only time you can get into his office alone."
Far from invigorated in the same manner of her wife or enjoying the excitement of doing something so expressly off colour for good reason as her (very much former gunner) childhood friend, Lisanna Branson had been coaxed out of her family home in the upper stands when she could no longer sleep from being anxiety ridden in the face of her wife putting herself up to the possibility of being arrested again. Piper keeping her close, Lisanna clutched onto her wife's hand and shuffled along with her and MacCready, shivering a bit in the cold despite her coat, scarf, and earmuffs ensconcing her in her soft, warm clothes. A startled yelp escaped her when she, her wife, and childhood friend reached the back stairs snaking up to McDonough's office, fireworks going off rapidly and loudly a reminder that the clock had begun; Nat had, alongside Vadim, begun to draw the attention of security to them and nowhere else. Piper smirked to herself to farther up the stairs she went with her wife and the former gunner, her once, it had seemed, unlikely informant's intel proven to be, it seemed, accurate as ever; the location and access code to the back stairs also a contribution from Wellingham who had seemed particularly eager for whatever would come of the break in to McDonough's office by his favourite off the books associate.
MacCready grinned when the three reached the top of the stairs and picked the lock into McDonough's office with ease, reminding Lissy to be as silent as possible before feeling rather silly when she did not respond and kept her increasingly tired once more gaze on her feet with her overgrown bangs fluttering over her eyes; the little energy she seemed to be able to muster up quickly starting to fade in the same way it had day in and day out for the better part of the past several months. Trying to not dwell on it, MacCready instead took the password jammer she had borrowed from her brother and moved as silently and quickly as he could over to McDonough's computer terminal. He shoved it in the matching port after a few seconds of fiddling with it, and, to the relief of both him and Piper, it began to work as soon as the computer terminal began to read the programme. Crouching down, her bespectacled face barely peeking over the window sill, Lissy watched the continued firing off of fireworks, fire crackers, and a myriad of other items down below that, though the realisation did not ease the sick feeling rising in her, had security very much preoccupied. She flinched at every new sound joining the cacophony of noise below, and a short squeak of pain escaped her when her balance slipped and her bony arms and legs slammed up against the wall beneath the window sill. Shoving the blank USB drive and holotape she had brought with into MacCready's hands, the gunner finally into the computer terminal, Piper moved to help her wife up, holding her steady while MacCready began the process of downloading all of the computer terminal's information and data onto the drive and holotape; the two, hopefully, not needing to play backup to one another and instead making one of them superfluous.
Piper's arms securely around her wife, she let Lissy, who kept fidgeting with her glasses with one hand and covering the ear not pressed against her wife; her head resting on her wife's chest and a tired look beginning to overtake her. Piper kept her eyes glancing around the room; from the locked main doors into the mayoral office to the windows overlooking the chaos of fireworks, shouting, and (almost certainly coming from Solomon) off key caterwauling. Himself focused on the screen and the data from the computer terminal as it continued to download to the holotape and USB drive, MacCready grinned the closer they got to completion. 28% Total System Download Complete. A bit amused when he began to take a glance through the screensaver and wallpaper history, he only recoiled a little at the memory of the decidedly gruesome choices of screensaver and wallpaper by a certain nose-less resident of Goodneighbour and the rather disturbed entries of proud owner of Kill Or Be Killed. 41% Total System Download Complete. Taking a glance over his shoulders, MacCready easily returned to scrolling through the images previously set as the screensaver or wallpaper before becoming distracted when, by accident, he opened the system settings and began flicking through the screens.
Welcome, Mayor McDonough. ENCRYPTED NETWORK Connected, Secure. Software Up To Date.
Cloud Storage 507GB used of 1.0TB (51% used). PC Backup To Cloud (Status: Backed Up)
Recommended Settings: Storage. Display. Installed Apps.
Sign-In Options: Security Key, Password, Dynamic Lock, RobCo Trespasser Management System, RobCo Termlink.
The crack of another firework flying up outside rang out louder than the others and, remembering what the three of them were doing, MacCready closed out settings and took another look at the downloading progress. 89% Total System Download Complete. A smirk slipped across his face again at the notice, and lightly clicked his fingers to draw Piper and Lissy over. Her arms still around her wife, Piper could not help but smile smugly herself at the screen too.
"I always find out sooner or later," She said, snickering a little when the download was nearly finished. "I don't think McDonough knew what he was doing, trying to stop me."
"Kind of an idiot for it," MacCready said with a shrug, turning slightly in the chair to face her and Lissy. "Alright, when these finish downloading, I'm going to eject them, pocket one and give Lissy the other, and wipe the terminal's history. Lissy and I can go out the back – same way we got in – and I figure you can meet us back at your home."
"Make sure to give your tape to Lanie," Lissy mumbled, clinging on to her wife.
"And make sure to grab the bug Nora had you place last March before going out after us," MacCready added, sending Piper a pointed look.
"Of course I will," She said with an amused roll of her eyes. "You don't have to remind me when the damn thing might incriminate him directly apart from whatever we get from that."
The computer terminal beeped, followed by a screen pop-up. Total System Download Complete. Please Eject External Drives Now.
"I'll be just a few minutes behind you and Mack," Piper whispered to Lissy as she gently began to pull her off her. "It'll be alright, Lis."
Lissy half heartedly nodded, her glasses slipping a little down her face. MacCready glanced between her and Piper before, dusting himself off as he stood up, ejecting the holotape and USB drive and handing the former to Lissy, who slipped it into one of her jacket pockets, and the latter into one of his boots. He took a look over the top of the computer at the sound of another firework being set off, and a rictus grin overtook his face again at the sight; barely paying attention as he punched in the commands for a full system reset.
"See you soon," MacCready told Piper with a mischievous wink.
"You know it," She replied with a tip of her hat.
Shaking a little and not wanting to fully let go of Piper, it was the loud pop of either a firework or a fire cracker hitting the glass of the window panes in the mayor's office which got Lissy to, albeit with her hands and gait unsteady and her shoulders pushing ever closer together and towards her ears, grab onto one of her childhood friend's hands and run back towards the back entrance stairs they had come in through. Leaning against the back of the mayor's desk chair for a moment, watching as her wife and the former gunner disappeared down the stairs, Piper glanced up at the ceiling and the ceiling fan with a smirk. In a split second decision, irritation grabbing onto her when she saw a photograph of Geneva on the mayor's desk when she turned around to ensure the computer terminal had, in fact, reset, she pulled out her 10mm and fired a single shot into it, right through Geneva's face. Fakest 'nice' woman in this whole damn city. And a bad liar. A bit of a rush of adrenaline crashing into her, Piper sauntered towards the filing cabinet nearest the main doors into the mayor's office slipping her hand into the small gap between it and the wall. Her fingers soon found the small object, not much bigger than a bottle cap, she'd let sit for over a year and, careful not to potentially damage it, unstuck it from the back of the filing cabinet. She looked at it for a few seconds with a smirk before slipping it under her jacket and shirt and into her bra. Making her way towards the back entrance stairs, too, impulsivity latched onto her almost as much as the adrenaline and, taking a second to ensure her gun was still loaded, took a few shots at the some of the bottles of wine, Nuka Cola, and plates she was almost certain were fine porcelain, laughing a bit as she did so. Almost to the stairs, she paused at seeing what was on one of the top shelves of a bookcase. An eyebrow raised, she all but leapt up to try and grab the bottle but missed; opting instead, mere seconds after her boots met the floor again, to climb up the bookshelf and grab the decidedly rare, unopened bottle of Sunset Sarsaparilla which she quickly dropped into one of her jacket pockets.
A last, self indulgent laugh escaped her when she was back on the floor again, cut short when hands suddenly snatched onto both of her arms from behind.
"Piper Courtney Wright, drop your weapon and turn out your pockets."
"Oh, please," She scoffed. "As if –"
She cut herself short when she tried to look over her shoulders only to see the faces of two members of Diamond City Security glowering at her and their hands tightening around her arms. Out of the corners of her eyes, seeing the main doors to the mayor's office had been opened as they dragged her back, a hard, sinking feeling began to tie itself up in knots in her chest when a third member of Security stepped through the opened doors too. Her grip on her gun slackened and it hit the floor with sharp, metallic thud and, realising they were not going to let her go, tossed the few empty wrappers of gum out of one of her pockets and the bottle of Sunset Sarsaparilla from the other; the latter of which, however, she popped the cap off of, took a heavy sip of, and then promptly threw it across the room, shattering the bottle and leaving a mess of the soda to sink into the floor. She gritted her teeth when she felt the hands of the two members of Diamond City Security holding her arms back tighten, and, kicking as hard as she could, wrenched free of their grasp and tried to grab her gun. Tripping over one of their feet when she ran towards it, Piper let out a short, furious cry of pain when she slammed into the floor, still reaching for her gun until the third member of Security picked it up and dropped it into an evidence bag. She screamed again when one of the two other members of Security came over and snatched her up off the ground, all but slapping handcuffs around her wrists and wrenching them on as tightly as possible, ensuring they dug into her wrists.
"Should've known she was up to something when Natalie and Bobrov began setting things on fire," One of them said to another. "She's far more predictable than she thinks she is."
"Predictable," Piper spat. "What, you mean like McDonough spending the night with his airheaded blonde secretary?"
"Search her office," The same officer told two more who were approaching. "I'm sure whatever she's been writing will explain this."
"And she doesn't have her mother or father in law to get her out easy right now," One of the first two officers laughed. "She'll have a nice, long stay in the Piper Suite."
"Give it a few days," Piper taunted through gritted teeth. "And Hadley will be back to tear you to shreds for this."
"For your breaking and entering, stealing, and instigation of public disorder?" One of the officers scoffed. "No, Piper, you'll be doing real time for this one. You can't keep escalating your 'stunts' without consequence."
"Then maybe –" She suddenly stopped when she looked up towards the stairs to the upper stands, catching a glimpse at her wife, sister in law, and the former gunner running down towards her.
"What the fuck are you doing?" Lana Marie yelled, dragging her little sister by the wrist, Lissy clinging onto her.
"Enforcing the law," An officer said, pointing at two of the others to stand in between the three rushing down from the upper stands and Piper. "Stay back, and you won't join her."
A minute passed in silence; only the steady rhythm of the three making their way down the stairs to the waiting area of the mayor's office, the crackling of what were surely the last few fire crackers down below, and the mix of amused and annoyed murmurings between the guards. Trying to wrench herself out of the grasp of the officer who had handcuffed her, Piper let out a frustrated scream when she could not, a scream which turned into one of pain when the guard wrapped her hands around her handcuffed wrists to ensure the cuffs dug into her wrists more.
"Look, look, this doesn't have to get ugly," MacCready said, taking a second to catch his breath when he, Lana, and Lissy reached them. "Just let her go, and we'll be on our way."
The officer restraining Piper laughed. "That won't be happening."
"It wasn't her idea to go in there and break shi…things," MacCready said, crossing his arms and glancing at Lana who faintly nodded. "It was mine. Thought there might be something in there worth pawning off. Piper was just trying to cover for me."
"Nice try," The officer said, shoving Piper towards the two that had originally grabbed her. "Take her away."
"No!" A shrill screech escaped Lissy who, with a sudden burst of energy, let go of her older sister and tried to run towards her wife. "Pipes!"
"Lis, I'm sorry –" Piper started, swallowing hard when she saw her wife was starting to cry and her glasses were fogging up.
"You can visit her in prison tomorrow morning," An officer said, shoving Lissy back when she made one last desperate lunge towards her wife. "You know the drill."
"Keep your hands off her," Lana Marie snapped, catching her little sister before Lissy, stumbling a little, could fall over. "You know, if you think this is going to do you any good, you're wrong."
"Piper should have thought of that before going places she doesn't belong and destroying that which doesn't belong to her," The officer sneered. "She gets away with more than enough. Maybe this time she'll finally learn her lesson."
"It really was my idea," MacCready tried again, looking between the officer and the now sobbing Lissy who was clinging onto her sister. "And," He lowered his voice and stepped a little closer to the officer. "Can't you see she really needs Piper? Be fair about this."
"We are," The officer replied. "And I sincerely doubt a successful merc like yourself would ever be impulsive enough to do this."
MacCready scowled. "Maybe you haven't done your research. You know how long I've been in this line of work? And who I used to work for?"
"We know who you are," The officer said with a mirthless laugh. "Former gunner, formerly reckless teen father, and the bitch of Goodneighbour's 'beloved' Hancock. You might be nearer to your thirties now than to your teens, but your record doesn't go far enough here and neither will your caps."
The Island
October the 15th, 2289
13:09
"And so it goes," The Mariner said, snatching a slab of fox meat out from her bag and holding it up, briefly, in her gloved hands for the General of the Minutemen to see. When she unceremoniously threw it away from her and into the water the two were ankle deep in, she smirked. "Dropping the blood in the water to see what comes."
"No turning back now," Preston agreed aloud, though mostly to himself whilst he drew his laser musket and a hard, sinking, nauseating feeling began to bubble in his stomach. "It's time to go."
No sooner did the words leave his mouth, a horde of mirelurks scurried, jumped, or otherwise came out from under or in the water, quickly turning and running towards the two pesky humans who had aroused them. The Mariner flipped her .44 revolver pistol in her hands as she drew it from its holster, and opened fire at the first well overgrown and mutated crab her eyes managed to focus on despite the blur of lightly falling rain running down her glasses. Catching sight of a few egg clutches in the distance, the Mariner ran as fast as she could through water as it got deeper around her, doing her best to weave between the mirelurks and the firing of Preston's laser rifle on the grotesque creatures. When she reached the first of the egg clutches, she opened fire on the ones farthest from her and kicked in or stomped on the ones nearest with her increasingly heavy, somewhat water logged, steel toed boots. A barrage of swears left her mouth when something clamped onto her spare, holstered gun from behind; whipping around and jumping down onto the last of the eggs in the first clutch, she swatted at the small, soft shelled mirelurk that had grabbed onto her. Beating on its weak shell with the back of her .44 until it began to indent, she kicked her left knee upwards into its face, finally forcing the creature to let her go. Quick to reload her .44, the Mariner took a few steps back and, wiping away some of the growing rain from her glasses with her right arm, opened fire on the semi exposed face of the mirelurk, smirking a little to herself when it hit the water dead, its brain matter splattering with it.
About five metres from her, the General of the Minutemen kept his gaze focused down the scope of his laser musket, searching for the weakest spot on the mirelurks moving to surround him that he could. Realising how close he was to a tree, however, he briefly lowered his musket and swung it behind him and onto his back, jumping over to and hoisting himself up onto the lowest, thick branch of the somewhat twisted tree. He took a moment to catch his breath before climbing a little higher and, swinging his laser musket back into his hands, squatted down in between two large branches, his back against the trunk of the tree, and refocused his aim on the mirelurks beginning to congregate around the tree below him. The incessant clicking and clacking of their claws against each other and the tree sounding much like a broken metronome, Preston focused, first, on the largest of the mirelurks; hoping, by downing one of them, the creatures would inadvertently take another one of their own down with them. He could not help but almost childishly grin when he saw, out of the corners of his eyes, the Mariner crushing, shooting, and stomping out egg clutches in between swipes at her glasses to clear them of the rain, her still, in his book, the same little, adrenaline hungry Caitlin Maria Eris he remembered from when he had left, it seemed, almost a lifetime ago.
Luck falling into his favour, Preston could not help but let out an early but victorious whoop when, as he had been hoping, shooting down two of the larger mirelurks, one of which had razor sharp old fish trappings embedded in its shell, dragged two of the smaller, soft shelled counterparts down with them. The sharp, pinching claws of one of them got caught on the weakest part of the neck of one of them whilst the razor sharp and decaying fishing trap remains lodged itself into the brains of the other from the side, all four of the disgusting, putrid smelling creatures falling dead into the water with a thick thud and a spray of some of the salty water upwards. Only three more mirelurks left and attempting to encircle him from where they were down below him in the tree, the General of the Minutemen swapped in the next hefty laser cell cartridge into his musket, pocketing the old one into his bag before swinging it onto his back again and setting his attention back down onto the three mirelurks below him through the scope of his laser musket. The nearest, in futility, attempting to get up into the tree to snag him, was the one he zeroed in on first; somewhat glowing from its eye sockets and its movements a bit weaker than the others, no doubt, he was sure, due to the radiation it must have absorbed over the years, Preston aimed between its eyes, holding the trigger a few seconds longer to rev up the power of the laser a bit more than average before releasing it and repeating the motion twice more. The unnerving glow of the creature extending to its brains and guts when it finally exploded, Preston took a few seconds to pause and pull out his Geiger counter from within one of his jacket pockets. He let out a faint sigh of relief at seeing, despite the growing storm, the radiation of the area was reasonably low, though, as he slipped it back in and returned to focus on the last two mirelurks beating their claws against the tree from below his perch, he moved a little ways away, much as he could, from the dead but highly irradiated creature he had felled.
Her mood and excitement undampened by the rain and the first clap of thunder in the distance, the Mariner once again wiped the rain off her glasses with her arms, pausing to look over the area for any remaining egg clutches. Finding none within her line of sight, she holstered her .44 in preference for the shotgun one of the mirelurks had attempted to yank from her and started towards where Preston was, still in the tree, firing on the two mirelurks below him. Him getting one of them, again, between the eyes, the Mariner crouched down a little in the water where it was lowest and within range of her shotgun, focusing in on the hind legs of the cruciferous coloured crustacean. She laughed a little when she finally blew off its left leg first and, a few seconds later, Preston's laser firing separated the head of the creature from its neck, leaving it, too, dead in the water. Their gazes crossing, and seeing no further creatures emerging from the water, Preston made his way down from the tree before coming over to her. The two freed one of each of their hands from their weapons to smack their palms together, and, after a minute passed for them to catch their breath, Preston accepted the second, large slab of fox meat from the Mariner's gloved hands, her shotgun tucked, briefly, under her arm while she reached into one of her bags to take it out.
"Read a book of my dad's, couple of years ago," She remarked, reloading her shotgun when he hurled the slab of meat as far away from them and into the water as he could. "'Bout a mistake the Reds made around a century before the War. Long story short? A major nuclear reactor melted down and emitted so much radiation from the plant that it irradiated the town adjacent to it. Still became a tourist trap 'round fifty years after the accident. My opinion? People before the War were as stupid as some of our knuckleheads are now, and they landed us with these disgusting, mutated freaks."
Preston laughed. "Did the book say what mutations the creatures in that area had?"
"Some of them," She replied with a mischievous glimmer in her eyes and a smirk across her lips. "Cows started making radioactive milk – would make the Children happy, they'd drink it and call it holy water or some shit – and frogs started to appear in funny colours, and, my favourite, a fungus started to grow that produced a unique kind of melanin scientists hypothesised could be used to help combat radiation in space."
About to respond, Preston stopped short of doing so at the emergence of several groups of disturbed and enraged mirelurks from the deepest parts of the water and the fog starting to form from the rain. He started towards one of the groups to the right, the Mariner going to the left, just as another clap of thunder, closer this time, bellowed out, only to skid to a stop, falling backwards into the now calf deep water when one of the larger mirelurks caught hold of one of his boots with a pincer underneath the water. Struggling to get back up, four mirelurks starting to encircle him, the General of the Minutemen began to kick and thrash with as much force as he could muster until, finally, he got the mirelurk to release his foot from its clutches. His laser musket smacking around against his back, Preston reached for the large, serrated knife he had tied against his left hip in its sheath. He pulled it out in the shortest time he could and, crouching unstably in the water and still trying to get all the way back up, plunged the knife up under the chin of the nearest mirelurk, severing some of its gills and dragging the knife with both hands down towards its heart. He kicked it away from him when he withdrew the knife, the blood of the creature further muddying the water, before turning to do the same to the next one. Finally steady on his feet again, he started running as fast as he could, moving backwards, to draw the three remaining mirelurks in the group towards him. In almost the same way as one would insert an ice pick to perform a lobotomy, Preston shoved the knife in between the eyes of the mirelurk which got closest to him, plunging it in and out a few times until he was sure it was dead before sheathing the knife and pulling his laser musket back out, shaking the water off of it and whispering a brief prayer under his breath that it had not been damaged in his fall. When it did not fire after a few attempts, he swung it behind him and onto his back again, reaching instead for the 10mm pistol holstered on his right hip which, to his immense relief and a sigh escaping him, did fire.
The two remaining mirelurks so close he could almost touch them, Preston lowered his aim on them slightly; from the face towards the heart. The first few shots bounced off of or barely pierced through the pincers, but, after a minute and his own heartbeat growing faster and harder, revving against his chest, finally made it through to one of them. A few shots fired towards the heart and two then towards the head, he shifted his focus to the last mirelurk in the group and reloaded his pistol. The water now knee deep and his limbs starting to feel heavier the more soaked his clothes became, the General of the Minutemen tried to steady his increasingly heavy breathing, pulling the trigger over and over, aimed, as much as possible, at the fleshiest parts of the disgusting and agitated crustacean. When it, too, finally collapsed into the water dead, he reloaded his pistol once more and started towards another group of mirelurks, only to stop short at the shout of what, first, was a thunder clap but, soon after, the explosion of a grenade thrown into the water in the midst of a group of frenzied mirelurks about thirty metres from the Mariner. Another grenade soon followed the first, and a few of the creatures went airborne, crashing into the water with a slap harsher than that of the near thunder and, the closer he got to her, the more dead and sinking bodies of mirelurks Preston waded through, a rictus grin overtaking him a second time at the realisation some of the thunder claps he had been hearing were likely not that at all; a machination, instead, of the Mariner who, at the cessation of movement from what seemed to be, perhaps, the last group of mirelurks threw her last grenade in the same direction, watching the mirelurk corpses go flying once more with the explosion.
Momentary levity settled on them, broken, within a minute, at the emergence of somewhat water-bloodied, ten foot tall behemoth of a mirelurk from the farthest expanse of water sunken trees. The Mariner let out a disgusted, somewhat shrill screech when she saw what were at least a handful of eggs being excreted from the creature's genital pores when the mutated crustacean all but stood up, shielding her face with both of her arms for a minute. Himself grimacing at the sight, Preston began to move backwards with the Mariner, whom was herself cursing loudly (mostly at herself) for having used all of her grenades on the previously emerging groups of mirelurks. The prospect of being crushed under the enormous weight of the creature a wholly unpleasant one, Preston began rummaging through one of his bags with his free hand while shooting at the slow moving creature coming towards him and the Mariner. Finding a large flare, he hesitated a few seconds before lighting and throwing it away from himself and to the right to distract the creature, an act which, when the flare went off, worked. The moment it bought him giving him enough time to ready several rounds of ammunition to be ready to reload his 10mm with, Preston slipped a little deeper into the water away from the ever closer, putrid and almost sulfuric, odorous creature, taking aim at the joints in its legs.
Frustrated, disgusted, and once again fighting to keep the rain off of her glasses more than she had whilst flinging grenades, the Mariner swapped her shotgun for the Tec-9 she had kept holstered on her left, crouching down in the water and moving as quickly and as close to silently as she could towards the gargantuan mirelurk left for her and the General of the Minutemen to fell. She winked at him with another smirk, unsure if he'd notice, when she caught sight of him aiming at the joints of the mirelurk's right hind legs as it kept approaching the fizzling out flare and shifted her own focus onto the joints of its left hind legs. Relishing in the sense of camaraderie with the man she had, as a young girl, been certain would return to whence he came one day, she slammed in the reloads of ammunition every time she ran out with childish glee, and all but cackled when, just as the creature realised the flare was not that which it was after, she finally dislodged one of the joints in its left hind legs, causing it to fall part of the way into the water and getting itself lodged into the decaying, rusted remains of a small, commercial fishing boat. Though it began to kick up large amounts of water and releasing excrement, as it struggled to dislodge itself, the Mariner and the General of the Minutemen moved closer and closer to it, setting their sights on shooting, together, on the large, bulbous face of well oversized, mutated crustacean.
Pausing no more than fifty feet away from the stuck, brobdingnagian mirelurk, the two shared a resolute look and, wiping the sweat and salty water from his brow and resetting his hat on his head, Preston narrowed his eyes and raised his 10mm to fire upon the under chin of the creature, his fingers flying back and forth as they pulled and released the trigger. At the same time, the Mariner reloaded her Tec-9, coughing a little and spitting into the water now at nearly her waist and just above Preston's knees. Setting her sights, too, on the face of the creature, the Mariner kept her line of fire going; regimented, almost, in the cycle of fire, discard, reload, and repeat. In much of the same way, the General of the Minutemen waded a little closer to the still stuck creature and lowered his aim slightly towards its gills. The hard, sick feeling almost a rock in his stomach making itself known again with the ebbing away of adrenaline, he tried not to focus on the increasingly painful ringing in his ears, or the heavy falling rain that blurred the precise locations of each spot of weakness on the massive mirelurk. Another crack of thunder ringing out, but now close enough to more or less see the folds of the creature's gills, Preston reloaded his 10mm for what seemed to be the umpteenth time and began to shoot for the gills, slowly lowering his line of fire towards the creature's heart. The shroud of the Mariner pushing her way through the sheets of pouring rain towards him, he leapt backwards almost a foot when, in almost synchronicity with the nearing sound of the firing of bullets from her Tec-9, her shots finally pierced through the head of the creature.
Its brain matter and flesh and small shards of bone exploded with it, and, though the rain was not ready to lift, the few minutes passing in silence apart from the storm itself and the sloshing of water as the two stepped towards each other told them it was, in fact, over. The trial had been won.
"Fuck yeah!" The Mariner shouted, holstering her Tec-9 before lunging at and tightly hugging the General of the Minutemen, who started laughing though he hugged her back as a brother would a little sister. "We fucking did it!"
Preston started laughing when she let him go. "Guess even Allen's going to have to accept the Minutemen are going to become a fixture of the town now. Holy shit…" He trailed off, laughing more. "I never thought I'd see the day."
"Bet you by the time we get back to town, the scouts sent to watch us will have already made it," The Mariner said with the mischievous glimmer returning to her eyes, wiping the rain away from her glasses with her arm yet again. "And I ain't going to be the one dealing with crustaceans for a while. I'm handing that one off to Allen. I've got the perfect leverage now to force him off his ass to do something useful."
Preston rolled his eyes, taking a glance back at the mirelurks dead in the water whilst the two of them began to walk out back towards (relatively) dry land. "Still take issue with crustaceans, Caitlin?"
She recoiled a little, her nose wrinkling. "I hate those things. Refused to eat them as a kid, still refuse to now. Whatever they serve up for your Captain's Feast, if there are crustaceans or even any fish in them – last thing I want to eat right now – I ain't touching it. I'll peel and eat whole potatoes for a week if I have to. Fuck that shit."
Preston smirked. "Still a picky eater?"
Caitlin grinned. "As much as I can be on this island."