Hiding In The Green: A Fallout 4 Story

ArcJet, Junk Jet

The trek to ArcJet Systems was simple enough, despite having to put down both feral dogs and raiders along the way, although at one point Raina Queen and her pet synth paused to comment on how some place called Greygarden was just up the hill from where they were.

Before long they reached the building, a multistoried, blockish structure with few windows. It looked to be in reasonably good shape—good enough that it would not collapse on them, at least.

"There it is, ArcJet Systems. There shouldn't be any exterior security, so we'll head in through the front," Danse told them. "Listen up. We do this clean and quiet. No heroics and by the book. Understood?"

"Um, no, actually. Whatever book you're referring to, I haven't read it," Raina replied.

"And I'm not sure how you're gonna manage quiet when you're tromping around in power armor," the synth pointed out. "What with the hydraulics and the creaking, it ain't like you're going in on little cat feet."

"That's not—Look, just take it slowly and carefully," he explained. "We watch each other's backs. Don't go in guns blazing."

"I think we can manage that," Valentine said. "Ready, Raina?"

"Yes. What might we encounter? It can't be supermutants, or there would be meatbags all over the place. Raiders and Gunners would have fortified their perimeters and posted guards. That leaves ferals, insects, or other animals," the young woman asked.

"It could be any or all of those. Well observed, civilian," he said in praise. "Stay focused and check your fire. I don't want to be hit by stray bullets or bolts."

"This ain't exactly our first rodeo," Valentine said. "Lead on, MacDuff."

"MacDuff?" Danse asked, baffled. "Never mind. Follow me."

They entered to find a room strewn with the typical debris. His lips curled involuntarily as he looked around the lobby. "It was corporations like these that put the last nail in the coffin for mankind. They exploited technology for their own gains, pocketing the cash and ignoring the damage they'd done."

"Humankind," Raina emphasized, "and the coffin isn't buried yet. The rest I agree with. I suppose it's all part of the mentality which made sure the military had all it needed but the education system had go begging for funds."

"That—," Danse began to agree but then realized what she was saying. He clamped his jaws together and finished sweeping the lobby for hidden threats before stomping into the next room.

The synth detective was already there. "Hmm. The internal security system's already been taken out—and look. No blood, no bullet casings, no bodies—except for some stray parts that don't match with the prewar Protectrons. I don't think we're dealing with humans, ferals, or any of the local wildlife. I think the Institute's behind this—and from the smell of ozone, they've been here within the last ten or twenty minutes."

"You mean synths, don't you?" Danse asked the...thing in front of him. "I suppose you'd know. Which side are you going to be on when they appear?" He raised his weapon threateningly.

"Put it away," the synth told him, pulling out a cigarette and lighter. "The Institute threw me in the trash long before you took your first breath. Didn't even bother to scrap me for spare parts. I'm on the side of 'The three of us getting out of here in one piece.' If you're worried about how I'll deal with killing other synths, I have about as much problem with it as, say, you have killing other humans. If it's to protect others or myself, I won't lose a wink of sleep over it." He paused. "Not that it's an option."