Piper pulled her cap down farther as rain pelted her back. She approached the renovated yellow house where Sanctuary's founders lived. Sturges' outdoor workshop was closed to the public now, but he was still beneath the carport, fidgeting with an old Nuka-Cola machine. Goggles flattened his normally fluffy, black pompadour, but he had the usual grease slapdashed on his hands and overalls.
"Hey, Piper," Sturges called out in his musical accent. "Looking for Jun?"
"Yeah." She examined the Nuka-Cola machine. Aside from the greasy fingerprints, it was looking pretty good. Most of the rust had been removed and the problem spots covered. "How's your project?"
"Pretty good," he said. "Just needed a little love." He scratched his arms, leaving trails of grease on his peach complexion. "Been reading your paper. You folks at PO deserve an award or something."
"Thanks, Sturges, but that's not why we do what we do."
"Yeah, but you're working magic there. And hey, I gotta say, I never thought I'd see Jun happy again. Marcy's been a lot better too, feeling part of something. Said she's been working on a novel. You know, I haven't seen this much of them since Quincy. So thank you. You helped my friends find themselves again."
Piper blushed and let out a small laugh. "I...um...wow. Yeah, that's good to hear. The Longs are great people."
"Don't I know it." Sturges stood and wiped his hands on his knees. "Anyway, Jun's not here. He's over at Rose's."
Piper uttered an unintelligible syllable of confusion. "At Rose's?"
"Yup. Don't ask me what he's up to, but I figured it was a story."
She nodded and gave him a short wave. "Thanks, Sturges. See you around."
He bid her farewell.
Piper exited the carport into the curtains of cold rain. The few citizens outside wrapped themselves tightly in their coats, or clutched broken umbrellas close to their heads. Piper thought of the last time it rained this hard, when she was stuck with Danse and that otherworldly stranger in a safe zone that'd been compromised by ferals. She shuddered, but spotted Jun, unshielded from the rain, clasping a bundle of unknown items to his chest.
"Jun!" she called out to him, and was surprised he heard her the first time through the rain's din. He gave a slight nod to their office, and the two veered their paths, crossing the slippery road, and met at the front door, where an overhang failed to do its job properly and dripped heavy droplets on their heads.
"Is that combat armor?" She reached for his bundle and relieved him of a piece. "Goodness, it is. Jun, where are you going?"
"Inside, please?"
"Uh, yeah."
They stepped inside and theatrically wiped their shoes on the water-logged rug. Rain had decided to come in beneath the door again. Piper groaned and hung up her coat and hat in the cramped lobby. "Joanna, you here?"
"Yes," she shouted from upstairs.
"We're here too, if you need us."
"Okay."
Piper cleared her throat, demanding an explanation while Jun laid out pieces of combat armor on the coffee table. Feet squeaking, she headed to his side and loomed. "Tell me this is for a story."
"It's for a story."
"I told Marcy I wouldn't let you get involved with anything really dangerous."
"Marcy knows. She understands."
"Okay, but I don't understand. What could you possibly need with armor? Where do you plan on going that you'll need it?"
"Tenpines."
Piper plopped onto a sofa while Jun attempted to dry the hard armor with his soaked tee. "Oh my god..."
"I wasn't going to go alone," he said. "I just hadn't seen you earlier."
Piper ran a hand through her hair, getting the annoyingly wet strands out of her face. "Okay, that's a little better, but you still haven't told me what's up there in Tenpines."
Jun looked up from the armor with the devil in his eyes. "Revolutionaries."
"Whoa, hang on there a second. Are we talking in the Mayor Hancock way? The original Minutemen way? Or something else?"
"Let me show you." Jun set down the armor and jogged upstairs. Murmured greetings were exchanged between he and Joanna before he reappeared with a folder that he handed off to Piper. "This letter was sent to me today."
"Here or at home?"
"Home."
She dried her fingertips on a cushion and pulled out the letter. "Through a provisioner?"
"Yes."
"It's dated today."
"Yes."
*
December 18, 2090
Dear Mr. Jun Long,
My wife and I love your stories. You are our favorite reporter. We are writing to you now because our settlement has been neglected by the Minutemen for a long time, and we were one of the first to rejoin the fold, if you remember. While our calls for defense have always been answered, we do not receive the same treatment as Sanctuary or Starlight. Other settlements have been receiving necessary upgrades to their defenses and buildings, while we still live in shacks made of rusted metal and rotting wood.
We recently learned that Preston Garvey traded a percentage of crop surplus to the Brotherhood of Steel in exchange for vital technology that helped ensure the continued safety of Minutemen settlements. As a result, our food merchants have had less to sell to us, and our crops are just enough to keep us fed. We have little stored away in case of emergency.
We have outlined our concerns in three letters sent to Sanctuary in the past month, but have thus far received no reply. We do not even know if those letters were received. We reached out to our neighboring settlement, Outpost Zimonja, only to find that they are in a similar predicament.
Mr. Long, I am writing to you because we have been inspired by Mayor Hancock's words. We wish we could've been there to hear them for ourselves, but nonetheless, we were inspired. We are planning a revolution here. Though we do not anticipate an exchange of bullets, we are concerned about recent events regarding the raiding of a citizen's home. We have had the pleasure of meeting Strong once before. He and the General repelled Gunners from our little cliffside settlement a little over a year ago. We were a little afraid of him, at first, but Strong genuinely believed in the "milk of human kindness," and has helped shift some our views. We were grateful for his perspective, despite the short moment we had with him. When news of the raid upon his home hit here, we were appalled. How could the Minutemen so willingly do this thing? Was this really being done in the name of public health? How come public health is conveniently ignored when it comes to Tenpines? Zimonja?
Representatives from each settlement are to meet and discuss new methods of governance. If the Minutemen would like to be involved, then they must stand beside us in this change, not before us. This is the next step in returning the Commonwealth to its former glory. We must be for the People, by the People.
Please join us while we convene. We have scheduled a week for the discussions, and will be beginning tomorrow starting at noon. I apologize for the short notice; we mistakenly held out hope that the Minutemen would hear us out before our conference began. We believe in the work done at the paper and we know that the paper will give us our voice.
Sincerely,
Samira Amer
*
Piper gaped at the letter with a smile. "Are you serious? Jun, ARE YOU SERIOUS? Did this story really just fall into your lap?"
Jun nodded, beaming. "It seems so. I don't think it's any kind of setup, either."
"Oh my god..." Piper headed for the stairs and stopped at the first step. "We need to get there like, yesterday." She ran upstairs. "Joanna, we're gonna need you to cover things here for a while. Don't worry about printing anything alone. Just keep the place locked up while your here and while you're not."
Joanna rolled out of her shared office on a chair. "What? Why? Where are you going?"
"A big story, Joanna. Behemoth-sized." Piper burst into her own office and packed some extra ammo, then raided her stash of candy. She came out to find Joanna blinking at her from her chair. "Jun's the one they want, and I don't blame them, but he needs some muscle, and-Oh, can you hold this?" Piper thrust her messenger bag at Joanna, who took it without complaint. She ran to her bedroom and rifled through her dresser. She changed clothes, sporting a dark getup reinforced with ballistic weave that Blue had offered to every Companion who'd wanted it, then returned to the hall where Joanna waited patiently with the supplies. "Anyway, I'm the muscle." Piper rifled through the bag on Joanna's lap and tucked away certain supplies into various pockets. She gathered the bag up, tested its weight, and shrugged her brows. "There's caps for lunch and dinner in the drawer with the pens and pencils. Don't go overboard. We'll be gone a week. Oh, and I'll send someone here to watch the place."
Joanna snuck a word in. "Is there some kind of danger?"
"You can never be too careful. Any qualms about...um...guess you wouldn't work here if you did have any...shoot, Nick's back in Diamond City..."
"What about that guy who came by the other day? Deacon?"
"Pfft. Deacon?" Piper snorted. "No way. He's a notorious liar, and he's really bad at it too, maybe on purpose to keep people confused..." Piper paused, wishing she had a gumdrop to chew on. "Or...maybe that's exactly who you need. Someone with no political or romantic ties around here and who can't be bought." She paced. She was too excited to stand still, and her body obliged as best as it could. "Okay, Deacon's our guy. If I can find him. And only if you promise to keep an eye on him while he's here. No news stuff near him. He hangs out in the lobby and keeps watch. That's it. Don't even talk to him beyond greetings and farewells, and make them short and simple."
"Of course. Anything else?"
"Follow your gut, as long as it doesn't get you killed. Did Jun tell you about Tenpines?"
"Only that he got a letter from there."
"Jun?" Piper waved at Joanna to follow her down the stairs. "Jun, I'm gonna go find Deacon to keep watch here while we're gone. Can you fill Joanna in? Any work she can do that connects everything to our local stories will be perfect. I'm thinking we need to do a hefty edition on this whole thing."
"Me too," he said. "Or would it be worth it to send copy back to Joanna to print smaller editions throughout the week?"
"Hmm...it's risky. I mean, I'd eventually love to get to a quotidian model, but our messages could get intercepted and Joanna's working all alone."
"I'll do it if you need me too," she said. "I'll keep copy costs in mind. Single page, that's it."
Piper nodded. "New plan. Jun, you need to be on the Tenpines beat. Joanna, you're here in Sanctuary. I'll be the one traveling back and forth. Editing on the road."
"Something could happen to you, Piper," said Jun.
"Yeah, well, something could happen to any of us. At least I know the route pretty well. I'm also on pretty good terms with most of the provisioners, so...if there's anything I can't handle, I can always walk the trails with them. They're armored and armed to the teeth." She glanced at her incredible employees. "Think we can do this?"
Joanna raised her hand. "I'm still somewhat unclear on what it is we're doing."
"Oh, right." Piper set her supplies on a sofa, then snatched her not-dry coat and hat. "I'll be back. Oh, and...we need to keep this under lockdown. Jun, if that means Marcy hangs out here with Joanna and Deacon to help a little, maybe with proofreading or whatever, then that's what it means. Paid as usual. Can we do that?"
"Yes," said Jun. "Marcy actually suggested something similar. She's coming by later tonight. She had to do some shopping first."
"Good." Piper opened the door, blasting her face with cold and the bright white of the low-visibility rain. "See you all soon."