We Know The Price We Pay

23. October. 2277 - Sarah Jeannette Lyons

The tomb of the unknown soldier.

Years and years ago, long before my birth, the Brotherhood managed to take control of the site and keep the Enclave away from it in order to prevent those tyrants from desecrating the site. It's recorded in the chronicles here on the East Coast, and I am sure my father has since given a copy to the other Elders across the country and, most pertinently, on the West Coast. With all we have learnt, knowing this, too, is the last of the Enclave's strongholds, we should be approaching victory and the rest of the Elders ought to be aware of it too. The plans to expand our capacities, the plans to make it easier for us to all move back and forth across the country, are just as exciting; soon, I hope, the Prydwen will be airborne and, soon after, not the only one in the fleet of the Brotherhood across the whole of the United States. Unity is something we have lacked for so long and having that heightened capacity for travel and for convening should make that possible to achieve.

Our achievements, impending and already earnt, however, must wait. For now, before we can consider continuing work on the Prydwen, before we can consider giving the Elders in the Midwest and on the West Coast the information and plans to do the same, before we can end this war, for today we must pay our respects. Dawdling and allowing my mind to wander cannot do. These were our Brothers and Sisters, and those of whom served to save the United States before the War, and all we can do is pay them their respects though we cannot identify them. It is a tragic state. A pitiable one. So, our respects to them must be paid. Laying the wreath, Paladin Kreig pays his respects first, bowing his head and saying the prayers with us. Glum as what we are here to commemorate is, it takes all I have in me to not smile when he returns and stands beside me, taking my hand for a brief moment before, clad in his power amour as am I and most of our fellow Brothers and Sisters, he returns to his designated location for the rest of the ceremony.

There's something about you, Kreig, that's just so comforting. If I had to say what it is, though, it's the fact you treat me as you would anyone else, and not as though I am special. We've all hard earnt our positions and powers and privileges through years upon years of service to the Brotherhood. I don't know why you can do this when it seems the rest of the Brotherhood beyond the close upper ranks and, of course, the war council cannot do anything but treat me as though I'm above them or, even, should be above them. I am the second highest ranking officer in our Order here, controlling the Eastern Coast of the former United States, but I'm a human just the same as all of us. Exalting any of us above the other won't do any good and will only fracture our ranks. Seeing as that's the worst thing we could have happen other than an outright, sudden victory by the Enclave, we need unity more than ever. The fact even most of the Outcasts have turned out for the ceremony and to pay their respects to our unknown Brothers and Sisters that gave their lives in the line of duty is a painful reminder of that.

Here we stand, us in the Brotherhood and the keepers of morality, life, and all that is good against an axis of evil to fight, one we are slowly but surely closing in on defeating. Here we stand, with those in the Outcasts, those who estranged themselves from our Order out of nothing but unreasonable insubordination and dereliction of duty. We stand with them because they can redeem themselves. Many of them will, of that I am certain. As I look between us all, it's hard not to feel the painful desire for everything to refuse itself on its own. For things to return to normalcy and what they ought to be. We are in a time where we need unity, not discordancy.

Failure is not an option, and opening ourselves up to the possibility over these petty quarrels isn't worth it. It's not worth the damage it could cause.

It's not worth more than the lives of people who will be lost without our protection and eaten alive but this awful, irrational world we live in.

"Brothers, Sisters. As you know well, today is one of the most solemn days of the year, the day upon which commemorate the sacrifices of our own still unknown in death," My father says, pausing for a few seconds to get the full attention of all of us. If it weren't inappropriate, I might even smile. He's always had a way with inspiring people, and it's something I've always strived to emulate. "This day is especially solemn this year, however, because of the significance of the date. October the 23rd, 2277. Two centuries. Now, it has officially been two centuries since the War. What I believe we've learnt most from that horrid ordeal none of us in living memory can recount is simply our gathering together is by design, by necessity, because we know more than anyone else our survival rests on the chance for harmony and a destruction of the last remains of the axis of evil which has terrorised what remains of our great country for far too long."