USAF Satellite Station Olivia
December the 14th, 2287
14:22
Though the wind had been biting and freezing, it was not what unsettled her the most about the former air force satellite station. As it happened, that would be due to its shockingly intact underground intelligence facility.
Before the War, she had only been inside the satellite station a handful of times, all of which had been after Nate had been assigned to intelligence rather than active combat after returning from a brief tour of duty in Anchorage. Though several computer terminals were no longer functional, a few of them having melted through themselves, there were a surprising number of functional ones. Some of them, she reasoned, had to have been created and installed in the years after the War. Still, the knowledge some of them had been there since before the War unsettled her. Her heart pounding in her chest, Nora followed after Preston, with Codsworth and Derek only a few paces behind her. Slowly, they descended down the steps into the station proper. A few raiders had attacked them outside, and disturbed a nest of mole rats. In a way, the mole rats distracting the raiders made it easier to kill them and get to the entrance of the station proper. Kill. They had to kill people. She had to kill people. Nora found her hands tightening around her gun. It still didn't feel quite real. They had to kill raiders, or the raiders would kill them or innocent people, the regular people of the Commonwealth who wanted nothing but the chance to live in peace.
Now, I understand him better. I never quite knew how Nate managed to stay so strong when he came home from combat. Now, I do. If I don't do this, if we don't do this, then more people will suffer. It's hard, but it's something we have to do. Just like he had to when he had to kill members of the Chinese Army.
Every noise, every scutter of a rad roach or every squeak of a rat, was startling. The farther down the steps they were, the closer to the station proper deep underground they were, the sounds of voices and footsteps grew louder. It was the sound of sick fucking laughter, however, that stopped the four of them in their tracks. Derek took in a sharp breath, and pushed up his glasses before reaching for and pulling out his gun. Preston squared his shoulders and reloaded his musket. Codsworth quieted his systems to a barely audible hum, ready to protect Nora and the Minutemen the second the raiders came running for them. Slowly, they made their way to the bottom of the stairs. Carefully, they each stepped over the laser trip wire on the floor. Then, Derek slid over to the computer terminal on a desk just before the corner to go deeper into the station. After a few minutes, Nora, Preston, and Codsworth standing at the ready, he hacked into the computer, and manually shut off the defence systems in the station. The laser trip wire shut off, and the humming of turrets went silent too. With near silence for just a moment, the voices of the raiders became louder. They were only a few metres away, at most.
"Ready?" Preston whispered, rolling his shoulders back when Nora and Derek shortly nodded. "Alright. It's now or never."
Not taking a second to hesitate, Preston began down the second flight of stairs down to the bottom of the satellite station, his musket at the ready. Nora reloaded her shotgun as she went after, just behind him. Derek grabbed his pistol from where he had briefly set it down on the desk. Codsworth braced himself for a fire fight. Nearly the second they reached the end of the stairs, a few raiders ran out from a room at the end of the hall to the right of the stairs. Preston barely evaded a shot towards his head, but managed to shoot down the raider with a few shots from his musket. Codsworth flew past him, and began to take on the raiders who had been and were coming into the room. Nora narrowed her eyes and fired a few rounds in quick succession. Her heart began to pound harder and harder in her chest when it occurred to her that her aim was improving. Necessity speeds up everything. If only things didn't have to be like this. A raider with a tire iron came from the shadows out of the corners of her eyes, about ready to strike Preston in the neck, and, swearing under her breath, Nora shot them, causing them to stumble back.
Another shot. Another. Another. All around them, raiders seemed to be closing in, and some of them fell to the floor, dead. Her hands began to shake again, her mind growing foggy, only to be drawn back from the haze when Derek pushed her out of the way, stopping her from being shot in the head by mere inches. Voices rose among the din of gunshots, shouts. One of them caused her to stop in her tracks, not out of familiarity, but out of horror. I've killed hundreds so I can feel alive! Don't be pathetic! The words made her blood run cold. Reloading her gun and her entire body beginning to shake, Nora turned around, providing fire support for Preston and Derek as they pushed forward. It was the sound of a heavy gun spinning up that drew her back to the situation at hand again. About ready to puke, Nora swivelled to fire at the tall, muscular woman who was revving her minigun, Preston, Derek, and Codsworth all shooting at her too. Within the span of a minute that felt to be much longer, they managed to shoot her down, their own armour weakening under the onslaught of bullets from her and the other raiders still fighting. When she fell to the ground, dead, however, something in the air felt to lift, if only briefly.
She must have been their leader. She –
Nora forced herself to focus, reloading her shotgun, and firing at the last few raiders who came running towards them. Codsworth flew by her side to cover her back, and Derek and Preston did the same, shooting at the raiders with their backs to each other. Time seemed to become immaterial, even non-existent. Shot after shot. Reloading. Shot after shot again. It almost became a steady rhythm. When the raiders finally ceased their onslaught, when they were all dead, Nora corrected herself, the silence that came over them was almost painful. A ringing in her ears felt as though it were going to beat her senseless, and, holstering her gun, Nora walked over to a set of boxes, things, she had no doubt, the raiders had stolen. Her hands shaking again, she began rummaging through it until, finally, her fingers clasped around something small, something smooth, and metal. When she pulled it out, she breathed a low sigh of relief, and opened the locket to ensure it was what they had been looking for. Sure enough, inside the locket was a small portrait of the family who had sent them. Her heart sank when she saw their happy smiles, how they had never could have imagined they would lose one of the girls in the photograph. Closing the locket, she turned it over to see the engraving on the back. Sure enough, it had the family name – Abernathy.
"There were more of them than I would have expected," Preston shook his head. "Codsworth, if you could see if there's anything worth taking, I would greatly appreciate it. We need as many supplies as we can find if we're going to build up and connect as many settlements in the Commonwealth as possible."
"I'll be right on it!" Codsworth eagerly replied. "Shall I put them in the military grade bags the three of you brought along?"
"Yes," Preston confirmed. "Thank you, Codsworth," He took a look around them and sighed. "Damn raiders. All they do is take and take from ordinary people who just want to live. I don't understand. How can someone lose their humanity so much as to believe this is okay?"
"Some people don't care about the world, or other people, at all," Derek said. "But, then again, that's what this whole thing is. A damn shame."
"It's so wrong," Nora said bitterly, securing the Abernathy family's locket in the pocket of her jacket before reloading her gun. "No one deserves to have their lives torn apart the way these people do it. How can anyone be so selfish?"
"I have no idea," Derek said grimly. "But, at the end of the day, they are not like most people, not even close. Most people want to do what's right and help each other...most people value more than selfish satisfaction."
Nora nodded, but her voice got caught in her throat as a thought she had struggled to suppress finally reached up into her consciousness.
If you knew me then, you don't know me now.
Somehow, the realisation slammed into her harder than anything else.
Somehow, realising she could never again be the woman she was before the War left Nora feeling colder than she ever had.
𑁋￮✦￮𑁋
Goodneighbour
December the 17th, 2287
23:15
"Sorry about Bobbi. She's always stirring the pot around here. Didn't think she'd escalate to assaulting anyone over it, though, not after we had words about it the last time she went and tried to pull that shit."
MacCready uncomfortably looked between Hancock and the mayor's bodyguard, Fahrenheit. I wonder what her real name is. Unless her parents hated her – or really liked that stupid dystopian novel – she had to have changed her name at some point, right? His curiosity quickly disappeared when he caught a glimpse of her out of the corners of his eyes. Something about the way she held herself and her weapons sent him back to when he was younger, when he nine, and when he had first learn to fire a gun. In some ways, it had been a rite of passage. Nine. Every time a kid in Lamplight turned nine, they learnt how to use guns. Even now, he didn't quite know why he took to them so easily. MacCready sighed. And, soon after, I became the mayor. Someone people took seriously. That had been a different life. In some ways, it had been a better life. Lucy had been alive. He had been able to help everyone else in Little Lamplight band together to get by. Things had been more simple. Life hadn't necessarily been easier, but, at least, it had been more simple. At least, on paper, it had been more simple. Even emotions had been more simple, and foremost among them was love.
Love. The only thing that had ever thrown him for a wrench had been just a few years after he had left Lamplight, and stepped down as mayor, had been because of love. I was seventeen, she was eighteen, and I was the one who threw up when she told me she was pregnant. Still, it had been good. Even now, for as much pain as it sometimes brought him, the thought of his son always made him smile, no matter what. MacCready bit back the urge to swear when Fahrenheit loudly tapped her gun against the floor to get his attention. A slight pang of guilt began running through him every time he remembered how he had initially reacted to Hancock intervening in the tussle with Bobbi. Shit. I guess it's not the worst thing I could have said. I've said worse. But still. I promised Duncan I wouldn't swear anymore, promised him I wouldn't do it anymore just a year ago. I didn't even make it two years, and we've been here about that long. What's wrong with me? His hands bouncing up and down against his knees, MacCready forced himself to calmly meet the gazes of Hancock and Fahrenheit, trying to remind himself he had dealt with far worse people.
"I know I might have already offered to already," MacCready said, taking off his hat to run his hands through his hair. "But I can find a way to get the caps to pay for the light in the bar to get fixed. I'm real sorry about all this, and –"
"Don't worry about it," Hancock said with a dismissive shrug. "It ain't your fault Bobbi got wasted, lost her shit, and tried to shoot you through the throat."
MacCready winced. "Gross. Though probably not inaccurate. Bobbi seemed to be ready to kill me."
"Oh, she was," Fahrenheit said, tossing her rifle up in the air and catching it with one hand. "Bobbi has killed people before for less. She once pulled a shiv on someone for insinuating she could potentially be engaging in illegitimate activities. They used the word illegal, if I recall correctly. She wasn't a fan of it."
"It was a one off occurrence," Hancock quickly put in. "You don't need to worry about her doing something like that to you, especially not after I put an end to whatever was happening in the Third Rail. She probably thinks you're under my protection."
"Which is a good thing for people to think," Fahrenheit said with a slightly smug smile. "Even if it's not really the truth."
"Appreciate it," MacCready nervously said. "What do I owe you?"
"You don't owe me any caps, if that's what you're expecting," Hancock told him. "I just have a favour to ask, if you're up for it. And I'll be happy to pay you caps for it."
MacCready raised an eyebrow. "What kind of job is it?"
"Has to do with Bobbi, as it happens," Hancock said, stretching his arms out. "I know you might be hesitant to take it up, but –"
"Hey, as long as you pay me well and stop her from killing me, I'll consider it," MacCready said, setting his hat back on his head. "What are you asking me to do?"
"Glad you're keeping an open mind," Hancock said with a laugh. "It's not anything too much, definitely easier than anything you had to do with the gunners. All I'm asking you to do is be my espionage contact here in Goodneighbour...and specifically for Bobbi."
"Really, you're going to pay him just to spy on Bobbi?" Fahrenheit irritably exclaimed. "We have more pressing concerns. The super mutants, for instance!"
"I have been thinking the super mutants are getting a little too friendly," Hancock admitted. "Maybe we should 'round up some crew and thin them out."
"Too aggressive. They will have a home ground advantage, plus, our fighters are disorganised," She shook her head and cast a pointed look towards MacCready. "Which is why I would rather we pay him to deal with things like that. He was a gunner, he can more than handle some super mutants. When our people aren't defending their homes, discipline and morale plummet."
Hancock frowned. "So what? We just turtle up? Why would we do that? We're Goodneighbour! Besides, that's not my style."
"The only thing that's 'not your style' is losing, Hancock," Fahrenheit snorted. "Trust me. If you're not going to use this man, then we'll have to keep the game defencive. A simple castle strategy will draw the mutants to us."
"Let's go with that, then," Hancock said, dusting his hands off. "We keep tabs on Bobbi, and we can knock the super mutants off slowly. I like it."
"Great..." MacCready nervously looked between the two of them. "So...I'm just going to convince Bobbi I'm in on her game while actually working for you?"
"Precisely!" Hancock said with a grin. "And don't let Fahrenheit scare you. I hold up my deals. I'll pay you a thousand caps a week. You bring me a file of information at the end of every week on Bobbi and what's going on, and I give you a thousand caps. I know good skills don't come cheap. We got a deal? How about we come up with secret handshake for it. Got any ideas?"
"Tunnel snakes rule!" MacCready nodded and cheered, high fiving Hancock who eyed him rather strangely. "Sorry," MacCready said, taking a step back. "Heard that a long time ago."
Fahrenheit rolled her eyes. "You're a nuisance...but useful."
"Nuisance?" MacCready laughed. "And here I was, thinking you were starting to warm up to me."
"Not a chance," Fahrenheit replied without missing a beat. "Unless you prove you're worth the trouble, I'm not going to be giving you any more praise than acknowledging your utility."
MacCready sighed. "Isn't the real concern about Bobbi being up to no good?"
"It is," Hancock assured him. "Because, let's face it: if Bobbi's feeling confident about something, it probably ain't anything good."
"I got the sense of that," MacCready agreed. "Something about her isn't right."
"Well, thanks to you, we won't have to worry about whatever she's planning," Hancock winked. "Now! Can I offer you a drink?"
MacCready shrugged. "If you're offering, start with some Nuka Cola Quantum, add some vodka, whiskey, and gin. Shake it and finish with a splash of radscorpian venom."
Hancock laughed. "Joining the insane crowd, are you? Want some psycho thrown in there too?"
"Nah, don't like chems, just want the drink," MacCready replied. "And insane would be asking for a double."
"What a great team," Fahrenheit swore under her breath. "You two are going to drive me mad working together."
𑁋￮✦￮𑁋
The Institute
December the 20th, 2287
17:26
"Here's the update report you requested, Dr. Li. I know things are critical at the moment, what with preparing for a potential invasion of the Commonwealth by those 'Brotherhood Of Steel' people."
With a short nod, Dr. Madison Li took the report from the hands of her particularly enthusiastic protégé. Albeit uncomfortable with the thought of saying so, observing the work the twenty year old handled accurately and swiftly sparked a hint of pride in her. It's been quite a while since I've come across someone as dedicated as her, though Miss Spencer is certainly a close second. Their contributions to Phase Three alone have been invaluable. How we're going to deter the Brotherhood, however, is a separate issue. A decade. She had been given a just shy of a decade of peace from the Brotherhood due to the respect the then Elder had for her. For as many dissenters as there had been, Elder Owyn Lyons had permitted her to leave with the understanding they would not go looking for or bother her. It had held up so far, yet something in her felt certain the Brotherhood, presently under new and much younger leadership, she reckoned, would not hold up their end of the bargain despite the contributions she had made to putting an end to the Enclave permanently.
If anything, she suspected their true goal was not to aid the Commonwealth but to destroy the Institute, spurred on by delusions of grandeur.
"So long as you're willing to be flexible or, potentially, jump between projects, there's always something for you to do," Madison told the young woman, taking a cursory look through the report. "As I'm sure you've heard by now, the Brotherhood Of Steel are in the Commonwealth, and one of their directives is, likely, to target the Institute. Concerningly, the Brotherhood are relentless. We have to be especially careful and precise in how we hold them back from and, of course, prepare to drive them away from the Commonwealth."
"Absolutely," Rosalind said, hint of annoyance crossing face. "What do they even want with us, let alone the rest of the Commonwealth?"
"Whatever it is they want with the rest of the Commonwealth, I doubt we'll know until they've already done damage," Madison said shortly. "As for the Institute, they most likely want to, at best, interfere with our work, or, at worst, initiate a full assault."
"Full assault?"
"Yes, Jacqueline, full assault," Madison said, turning towards the sixteen year old who had been typing up potential schematics for weapons development. "Hence the necessity of the work you and Rosalind have been doing. Speaking of which, what's the status on the plasma emitter concept?"
"Close to being able to move into physical development instead of theory," Jacq cheerfully replied. "I think we've finally got the basic mechanics down. It's honestly a relief."
"It is," Rosalind agreed with a laugh. "We've been trying to figure this out for months now, but, finally, we're making real headway."
"We'll be able to get the blueprints printed out by the end of the week," Jacq added. "After which we'll put in a few notes for Dr. Watson before submitting it to him. Hopefully that will expediate the process of him being able to hand that off for parts manufacturing. I also finished the specs for the integration of new, stronger materials for armour."
"Both projects are going pretty well," Rosalind added, suddenly turning to Madison. "Oh! I almost forgot to mention, Dr. Li! I've also got the energy source equations for the plasma emitter finished a little early, getting a head start on which energy sources to test the emitter with for efficacy and beam focus and intensity. I have some extra bandwidth, now, if there's anything that needs doing."
Madison raised an eyebrow. "Already? But you just started those two days ago."
"I've been cutting back on sleep so I can get more work done," Rosalind shrugged. "I was on a roll, so I put in a few extra hours."
"Well, I'm certainly impressed," Madison said, glancing between her and Jacqueline. "Both of you, keep up the good work. I have to write up a few reports and check my emails. I will be in my office if you have anything you need of me."
Rosalind and Jacq both nodded, glimpsing back every so often at the head of Advanced Systems as she walked down the hallway to her office. The moment she was out of sights, they returned to their work. For the head of Advanced Systems herself, it was something of a relief to be able to return to work with less of a chance to be intruded upon by, most often, Dr. Evan Watson. Half the time they had spoken, of late, he had been agitated by the cutbacks to power consumption or been far more curious than she was comfortable about her past relationship with the Brotherhood. A relationship I would like to forget, and one I had hoped I would be allowed to. She frowned at the thought, her heels clicking sharply against the tile floor. When she scanned into her office, she waited for the door to shut behind her before setting it to locked, requiring a request for entry to be approved before opening. Although loathe to admit it, her thoughts were circling around some of the few pieces of time in the Capital Wasteland she had liked, missed, even.
A handful of people were at the forefront of those thoughts. Some of them were dead. James' face and voice were the first to come to mind. His often unkempt, dark hair and easy smile. The pride in his voice every time he spoke of his daughter. Annie. She would be...around twenty nine, now, wouldn't she? I wonder...is she still taking after him? Still practising medicine? She always was capable in it, even at only nineteen. James would be proud to know she helped complete the project and put an end to the Enclave. Catherine would too. It's a damn shame they didn't get the chance to see it. And after what the Brotherhood put her through, all but holding her captive and making her work for them 'in exchange' for them finding her father...I hope she and the woman she was engaged to are still safe in that Vault I brought her home to. James. Catherine. The face of her protégé then came back to her too. James. Janice...they weren't the only ones who, she was sure, hadn't deserved to die. Madison sighed, sitting down at her desk and logging into her computer terminal. Lyons' girl, Sarah. Even knowing the levels of radiation in that room, she still went in and activated the water purifier. If the Brotherhood have desecrated her memory, that may be one of the worst crimes they've ever committed. The Brotherhood. There were few people within its ranks she had thought well of, all of whom were now, she was sure, dead, bar one of them, one she suspected may have left –
The sound of her terminal indicating she had received a new email drew her from her thoughts, and her eyes narrowed when she saw the sender.
Ayo.J
Dr. Li, if you do not comply with my requests for access to your personal computer terminal, I will raise the issue with Father to ensure it is able to be searched. As a matter of security, it is paramount for the SRB to be certain you are in no contact with any persons associated with the Brotherhood Of Steel, via either your personal emails, other methods, or based upon your own, if precedent stands, exhaustive notetaking. You have until the end of the month before I go to Father directly.
Dr. Justin Matthew Ayo, Acting Head, Synth Retention Bureau
"Not if I speak to him first," Madison swore under her breath. "And since when is it the SRB's place to intrude upon everyone else's day to day lives?"
With not a moment for a second thought, Madison reached for a sticky note, writing down a reminder to speak to the Director when she knew he would be alone in his office in a little less than an hour. She then marked Justin's email as read and closed the email relay to open the files to compare recently submitted specs for potential additions to the reactor to keep up its efficiency until Phase Three could be completed. Her mind would not focus, however, not only because of Justin's threatening. She was well aware she was far from the only one Justin had been threatening of late, and knew, too, she would be far from the last. He was wrong, of course, and all of his accusations had no basis in fact or reality. That said, she had wondered about the sole member of the Brotherhood she still thought well of, and whom she suspected left their ranks. Though she had no desire to dwell on it, and certainly not after what happened to James, her feelings did go deeper than concern for a friend.
"This is why I don't socialise much," Madison muttered to herself. "It never seems to end well for me."
𑁋￮✦￮𑁋
Diamond City
December the 21st, 2287
1:11
"Here's your drink," Vadim said, grinning at Cait and pushing a bottle of moonshine towards her. "You drink on the house tonight."
"You're giving me a thousand caps a week for a month and free drinks for a night?" Cait winked. "And I thought you were just trying to mess with Tommy by making him lay awake in fear about the things I do when I'm not on the clock for him, classic mobster he is, always wanting to know everything but never realising he don't need to know what I do off the clock."
Pulling out a bottle of moonshine for himself, Vadim popped off the cap and tapped his bottle against Cait's. The friends quickly began laughing and took back a few swigs before setting their bottles down. Sweeping up broken glass on the other end of the bar, Scarlett paused to eye her boss and her (increasingly frequent) patron strangely. Cait slowly began spinning herself around from where she was sat on one of the many bar stools, waving her arms up in the air like tree branches waving in the wind. Behind the bar and across from her, Vadim began to hum and organise the various forms of alcohol on the shelves on the wall. Amused, Scarlett rolled her eyes and went back to work, only pausing when the door into the hotel swung open. Taking the now full dustpan and dumping the pieces of broken glass into the trash, Scarlett walked towards the entryway to greet the late night customer, her eyes widening in surprise when they brushed her off (unsurprisingly) and when she saw her (surprising) jacket. Sewed and ironed on to glossy black leather was a massive patch with an infamous gang logo.
Atom Cats.
"Hey, Dimy!" The woman said with a sassy swing to her voice. "What's buzzing, Bobrov?"
"Depends on if you're here to drink, Rowdy," Vadim said with a chuckle. "You want some or did you decide 'no, no I don't live up to the name' without telling?"
"Nah, you're going to have to give me something better than that," Rowdy said, hopping to sit up on top of the bar. "Don't get big headed, buster. Nobody will ever be able to tame me."
"I like a girl without a filter," Cait swung herself on the barstool to be facing Rowdy. "Think we could teach each other something?"
"Sure," Rowdy said with a smile. "What'd you think of this?"
Rowdy suddenly leaned over to kiss Cait, who kissed her back before teasingly biting her lips.
"You're going to have to do better than that," Cait said, laughing when she saw Yefim staring at her strangely. "Something on your mind, Yefim? Or are you going to start a bar fight with your brother?"
"No fights," Yefim said shortly, walking over to be face to face with his brother from across the bar. "We need to talk, Vadim."
"Here we go," Rowdy rolled her eyes. "Did he forget to pay the bills again?"
"I did pay!" Vadim confirmed. "Why do you look so grouchy, brother? Lighten up! You ruin the mood of the whole bar!"
"I'm with him on that," Cait said with a falsely dramatic sigh. "A bar isn't a bar without a couple of fights, or drunk people passing out on the floor, or bile getting all over at least one table."
"She's got the nail beat down on the head," Rowdy said, high fiving Cait. "Bars aren't some sort of boring place with a bunch of stiff assholes who can't stand anyone below their status. That's what the damn bar in the upper stands is for. What's it called again? Something about Colonials and beer?"
"The Colonial Taphouse," Cait said with a groan. "The barkeep is such a twat. Never seems to know a damn thing unless that one blonde woman comes in, her tits half out."
"Pembroke's wife?" Vadim laughed. "No, no, she doesn't wear like that. More close to see through."
Cait snickered. "It is see through when she's been in the rain...or otherwise wet."
Yefim grimaced. "You are all weird. I'm concerned. But Vadim," He turned sternly to his brother. "About the bar. Could you maybe cut people off earlier at night?"
Vadim furrowed his brow in confusion. "What? What kind of question is that?"
"Yeah!" Rowdy put in. "Why would you cut people off? They're just having fun!"
"Fun?" Yefim shook his head and scowled at his brother when he started laughing again. "Vadim! Do you know how much work it is to handle hotel guests that black out?"
Vadim shrugged. "They go just fine. Piper got poisoned a few years ago but survived. She only took a little sip of the drink that got poisoned. Then she drank three bottles of our Bobrov's Best Moonshine and was just fine!"
"Piper vomited all over two couches!" Yefim gaped at him. "She then had the worst hangover I ever saw, and her poor little sister had to help her get past it!"
"I remember that," Scarlett said, shuddering a little. "I'm glad Vadim caught the asshole who tried to poison her before he got away. I doubt that man tried to poison anyone for angry caravaners again after Vadim beat him to shit. Besides, Piper had been right about the caravaners inflating prices and secretly selling major discounts to the wealthiest people in the city. Namely, of course, Ann Codman and Malcolm Latimer."
"None of that is the point!" Yefim said, looking disgusted when he turned to his brother. "After some guests black out, we've had to start dragging them to bed! Making sure they don't die of alcohol poisoning! Not to mention the vomit and –"
"Nonsense," Vadim waved a hand dismissively. "It's all part of the Dugout Inn experience. I am not shutting down the bar early, and that's that."
Rowdy raised an eyebrow, glancing between the two brothers.
"You know, I've got to ask. Why did you guys go into business together if all you do is fight?"
"We don't always fight," Yefim said with a resigned sigh. "We only sometimes have different ideas on how to run the business."
"But our different ideas don't matter much," Vadim said, grinning when his brother gave him a small smile and nodded. "Working for yourselves is family tradition for us!"
"Really?" Cait shared a curious look with Rowdy. "Since when?"
"Since before the War," Yefim replied, a hint of pride entering his voice. "About fifty five years before the War, our great-great-great-great-grandparents – younger than us at the time – fought to keep our native country free from Russian invaders."
"The invaders had support from China," Vadim added. "But our native country of Ukraine won against Russia because of support and aid from the United States. The invaders fought to take us over for many years, but we kicked them out eventually, sent them all the way back to Moscow!"
Rowdy stared at the two brothers in awe. "That," She began. "Is fucking incredible!"
"Now I get why you two are so dedicated," Cait said, triumphantly raising her beer to the air. "To victory against evil!"
"Victory!" Rowdy cheered, clapping. "Now," She turned to Cait. "What is it you're doing these days? I ain't seen you 'round in a while."
Cait winked. "Let's just say I've learnt how to rip the testicles right off a raider...and get paid to do it in front of a crowd. You should see me in a fight."
"Cait is one of the best talents in fighting," Vadim said, proudly setting his hands to her shoulders for a brief moment. "Never bet against her. She always proves people wrong. Tiny girl, but strong."
"Though she be but little, she is fierce," Yefim quoted. "I do not enjoy fights, but I know Cait is strong."
"Well, with that in mind, I now have a question," Scarlett said, sitting down on one of the empty barstools near Cait. "What's motivated you?"
"Let's just say I met the devil with no plan and nothing to lose," Cait smirked. "And I've come out alive. Pretty fucking good as a reminder not to let myself be taken out, if you ask me."
𑁋￮✦￮𑁋
Bunker Hill
December the 23rd, 2287
18:24
"Are you here for our mutual friends?"
"Not today, Jacob. I came to get a few things, but have no information or updates for you."
"Getting a few things for them or for you?"
"For me and my family. Why?"
"Simply making conversation. Though I do have something I want to warn you about."
Hadley Branson nervously fidgeted with her glasses, but nodded, adjusting her large hiking backpack. Stockton watched her closely, and waited until she was nearly out of sights in the trading courtyard. Reaching into his pockets, Jacob Stockton fumbled around until he found a pack of cigarettes. He pulled one out, fumbled around in the pockets of his blazer some more until he found his lighter, and leaned back against the gate a little, watching the city just beyond the fortifications as the last bit of the sun disappeared for the day. Some days, having a cigarette break was what kept him sane, a thought not lost on him when he lit one and took his first draw. When the guards for the evening shift came by and took their posts, Stockton took a few more draws on his cigarette before walking back into the town proper. Slowly, he began a walk around the town, absentmindedly continuing to smoke his cigarette, and listening to some of the idle chatter. It was only when he heard a sudden crack that he turned around, stubbed out his cigarette on one of the concrete paths, and came face to face with the town's medic, who was shaking her head.
"What did I tell you about smoking?" Kay said, cracking a whip against the wall. "And, sorry about the noise, I promised Deb I'd test these out before she sells 'em."
"Sometimes you just need to smoke to let things fall into perspective," Stockton said. "I understand your medical concerns, but, if you should be concerned about anyone's health around here when it comes to drugs, you should be concerned about Cricket and her...chem use."
Kay grimaced. "Cricket has been taking way too many doses of psycho and daytripper for too many years. She's only twenty nine but she has the voice of someone who has been using for nearly forty years. I truly don't know what to do for her anymore."
"She's a strong ol' gal," Stockton said with a light chuckle. "Plenty of heavy chem users are perfectly well off, physically and mentally. Have you ever been to Goodneighbour? Their mayor, Hancock, allegedly became a ghoul because of his drug use."
"I'd have to see it to believe it," Kay said with a faint smirk. "Something that drastic probably hasn't been frequently observed."
"You should go speak to him yourself at some point," Stockton said, stretching out his arms. "Speaking of your medical expertise, my shoulder keeps creaking whenever it rains. I don't imagine it's supposed to do that...is it?"
Kay set down the whip, pulling a box of pills out from within her desk.
"Probably arthritis," She said, pushing the box towards him when he handed her a small bag of caps. "I reckon it's inflammation in the joints combined with the pressure in the air that's causing the painful friction. Take one of these every few hours when it's wet, and one a day on days with no precipitation."
"Thanks, doc," Stockton said, pocketing the painkillers. "Want me to take that whip off your hands? I can take it to –"
"I can take this beauty to my wife all by myself," Kay said, rolling her eyes as she came around from behind her desk. "Is there anything else you would like to discuss, or are you simply loitering, now, for the sake of...dare I suggest conversation?"
Stockton chuckled. "You know I am not one much for conversation," He said, following her. The two of them began to walk into the main square. "Since you are offering, however, I wanted to know what you thought of our...visitor."
"You're referring to the man who came in and interrupted two caravans – one of them your own – leaving and killed a brahmin to prove a point?" Kay said in disgust. "I think he's a despicable piece of shit we won't have to see again. Not sure why he accused us of harbouring synths. We showed him around the whole damn place, not a synth in sight. Strikes me as one of those raider types."
"You talking about that Kellogg son of a bitch?" Deb frowned when her wife nodded and tossed her the whip upon entering the square with Stockton. "He was a real nasty piece of work. Pretty sure he ain't a raider, though."
"Raider?" Hadley said, turning around from where she had been speaking with Cricket to see them. "I thought raiders weren't a problem at Bunker Hill. They certainly aren't at Diamond City."
"Raiders aren't a problem here," Deb confirmed. "Which is part of why I don't think the son of a bitch is a raider. I'd put money on him being ruthless enough to be one, but I don't think he actually is one."
"I didn't think he was too bad!" Cricket said, her voice caught somewhere between antsy and giddy. "I made a lot of caps off him! I don't have a problem with people who pay good! They keep helping Bunker Hill through caps, and I get better supplies, and then they can blow even bigger holes in people!" She leaned towards Hadley, tapping her fingers up and down the woman's arms, startling her. "Psst...want a new gun? Guns, guns, guns, and more guns! Just for you! Just think how damned good it'll feel holding one of...these!"
Hadley nearly leapt away from her, shaking a little when she turned to face the young woman.
"We're all good with guns, right now," Hadley told her. "Keep in mind that, unless we're out and actually need them, we keep all our guns locked up in a safe so they can't be stolen or mis-used."
Cricket pouted. "You're no fun Had-Hads!"
"See, if Cricket thinks someone's normal, they ain't normal," Tony said, shaking his head when his father tried to make him sit back down. "He threatened us all because he thought we could be helping synths! After that especially, I'm half tempted to join the Railroad, with all this shit."
"Tony Albert Savoldi –" His father began.
"People got to do something, dad!" Tony exclaimed, staring at his father in shock. "It's not even that I care about synths, because, really, I don't care too much about them. But the Railroad are the only group of people in the Commonwealth standing up to the Institute. Fuck that man who came by, Conrad was his name, wasn't it?"
"Conrad Kellogg," Stockton grimly confirmed. "I don't know why anyone would think we want a damn thing to do with synths. We have enough to worry about with keeping our caravans safe already."
"Goes triple for you," Deb joked. "Seeing as you've got three major caravans working out of here."
"Point is, Stockton's right, and so is Joe," Kay said, offering Tony a sympathetic look. "Your dad's right. You don't want to go out and get yourself killed for no reason, kid. You're barely seventeen. Don't throw your life away when you've got so much life to live."
"Well, I doubt that son of a bitch will be back any time soon, anyways," Deb said, cracking her knuckles and then the whip her wife had tossed her. "And, if he tries anything, I'll chase him out of here like I did when he came by before. By the way, Hadley, sorry about not having the shotgun shells you and Derek like in stock. He just about took my entire stock of ammo."
"Yikes," Hadley said, putting her caps back in her backpack alongside the items she had bought from Deb, Cricket, and a few of the other traders passing through the square. "That's terrible."
"It was," Stockton agreed, eyeing her closely when she pulled out a small notepad and pen, furiously writing something down with shaky hands and looking more anxious by the second. "You needn't worry, Missus Branson. It won't happen again."
"I trust it won't," She said with a clipped tone, passing him the note. "Bring these to me later."
Stockton nodded but his stomach sank when he took a quick glance at the note.
Spoke to the father of the Uni Point girl who's been missing for a few years. He said a Conrad Kellogg was there because of something she had found and tried to sell to caravaners. Mercenary...or Institute?