Broken Brotherhood (Fallout 3 AU)

[Thread Necromancer]

Chapter 1

Thank you to Charging Seahorse for subscribing~!

<><><><><><><><><><><><><>

Amata walked as fast as she could, vault security leading from the front as well as following behind her while they rushed through the corridors towards the entrance of the vault. Someone had sent a signal to open the vault and the computer wouldn't reverse it until after it had complete the opening process. Armed with their 10mm submachine guns and pistols 101s security was well equipped to fight off any hostiles that might make it in while they were closing the vault doors. As for why Amata was there, she had a hunch on who it was that had opened the door, and if it wasn't, she'd taken precautions, securing a stealth boy so she could disappear quickly if it turned out her hunch was wrong.

As they got to the door way to the vault entrance, the guards stacked up on the door, counted down, before one went up to push it open. It swung on its greased hinges and her security team poured in. Amata waited a moment before finally the head of security called out.

"Who the hell are you?"

"An old resident," a low gravelly voice came over what Amata knew was a speaker on power armour. They'd encountered it once before, when he had come back. Now without fear Amata stepped through the door into the vault's entrance area. As she looked to the control area there already was one of her security personal working on the controls there. Another man was working at the console in front of her, pulling the lever down that started up the sealing up process. The door would be closed soon enough but it would take time, and as she watched the entrance the man in power armour came stomping forward through the cog shaped entrance.

"Hold it right there Jim! You're not allowed back in here remember!"

"It's fine for the moment," Amata called out. She saw that Wersker, the new head of security, wasn't happy about it but at the moment Amata wasn't about to worry too much about that. Despite how many in the vault still had it out for Jimmy, for the chaos that had happened in his father's wake, she didn't blame him.

Though, some part of her wondered why was back here? He'd changed and it had been nearly a decade since he left here. She almost wished that he'd never left sometimes, but even if he could come back it wouldn't be the same. Once upon a time he'd been a nice boy, a good friend and so much like his Dad. A lover of the diplomatic approach, always willing to help anyone around, even looked like he'd become the next vault doctor when his Dad finally passed on the title.

When he first came back though… The wasteland had changed him. She'd barely even recognised him then, and were he to take off the helm of that power armour, she was pretty sure she'd barely be able to recognise him now. Though, as she watched him come forth, she finally noticed someone else was there as well. Since the other wasn't in eye catching power armour she hadn't noticed them. Her frown grew as she saw how dirty the girl was, her blonde hair was a mess that looked like it was chopped short with a machete, the duster she had on was ragged at the bottom while the side bag she had looked stuffed. She carried an old hunting rifle as well that looked a bit big for her, modified to have a scope and looked quite a bit more powerful than the average .32 hunting rifle that were often among the raiders out in the wastes. Surprisingly though, as she gazed about the interior of the vault, she didn't look that impressed. Most wastelanders often were in awe of the pristine condition of the vault, of how clean it was, and even more how clean the people were.

She can't be more than ten, Amata thought as she gazed on at that youthful face, taking in the details. As she continued to look though, her eyes caught on specific features, saw things in that face. Her eyes for one, they were familiar, very familiar, the shape of the nose. Amata looked to Jim and then back at the girl, remembering his face, back when he first left. Slowly she nodded and her frown deepened. He couldn't possibly be thinking of trying to come back? There was still too much bad blood, especially after the lie her father had used in order to cover up the disasters that had happened around the same time that Jim's own father James had gone to escape the vault. Perhaps if she wasn't related to him, or if he just left her here…

But… if anyone were to ever find out… it could be bad. At best banishment, at worst…

She remembered hearing from some of the other security guards, some of the younger ones that were loyal to her talking about the plan her Father's supposedly loyal security team had been hatching behind his back to deal with them. The thought sent chills down her spine at how close they'd all been to death.

"Who's this?" Amata asked since it didn't seem like anyone else was going to ask. She looked to Jim, waiting on a response.

"An orphan," he simply said and Amata almost believed it from the way he said it, were the evidence not so blatantly in her face. Despite that though, she visibly saw one of the security guard's expression soften. Moreno was a youngster, barely even fifteen but he fit in the uniform well enough, and he didn't have the same kind of prejudices that plagued her father's loyalists. He definitely had some reservations about letting in too many savages… yet he didn't seem to mind the girl all that much.

Amata raised a brow at Jim, though through that helm she couldn't see his expression. She could imagine it though from their last interaction. Through that helm she could imagine his cold hard stare, one of steel tempered by the wastes. Any of the kindness that had once been there having been ripped out, and replaced with a stoic determination. Amata looked to the girl, and she didn't have as good a poker face. She'd glanced over to Jim briefly, her frown deeper, her expression troubled as concern passed through her eyes, yet she said nothing. Instead she looked away hiding her expression by watching the giant cog slowly being pushed back into place. Just like Jim used to do when he either was lying, or didn't want someone to see what he really thought.

He used to be so expressive… she couldn't help but think before shaking herself of that idle thought. It wasn't useful to reminisce on the past like that. It would leave her vulnerable to her own emotions pushing her into a rash decision.

"Why have you brought her here?" Amata asked. Jim continued to silently stare at her. Some of her people were growing increasingly uncomfortable. After a time though Jim spoke.

"I brought her here to be taken care of. The wastes are a dangerous place, and she'll be safe here," he said. Briefly Amata gauged the reactions of her guards. The older guards, those that had supported her father, didn't seem to like the idea. She could see their thoughts easily visible on their faces before they just as quickly returned to neutrality. Most didn't seem to think much about of it, not reacting visibly. Some among her force that were younger however briefly looked at her, gauging her own reaction while their expressions softened. Moreno even smiled a bit at the suggestion.

Even so… while her father endorsed her and her reasoning, those that had initially stuck with him hadn't been quite so quick to change their tune. Rather than shifting their positions when they were informed of how limited the gene pool was they merely doubled down or ignored how serious the threat of incest was to our vault surviving. Bringing in someone too soon, before she could convince enough people that it was a necessity, it would weaken her position and authority. Her ascendance to Overseer was mainly due to her father handing her the position and his loyalists honouring his decision, but if she lost their tacit acceptance her place would become that much more tenuous since her own supporters were still in the minority among the vault.

Part of that acceptance was by honouring her father's lie, and ensuring that Jim was gone, letting the older generation have their scapegoat to blame for not just the invasion by the radroaches and the fire, but also for filling their heads with muck. It eased the tensions, and let them blame everything that happened on those two. It helped as well that people were looking for an excuse, anything to try and return everything back to normal.

"Why do you think we would take her in?" Amata asked, hoping he would take the hint. Jim being involved at all, especially if they figured out who the girl's likely father was it, was just asking for trouble.

He didn't.

"Because ever after being forced from my home, and then being banished, I've been protecting the vault. Done it twice now," with that he raised his off hand with two fingers up. "The first was from raiders using dynamite to try and blow their way in."

Wersker scoffed. "That door was built to withstand a direct nuclear blast, there's no way that they could get in with just a few sticks of dynamite."

"True… the door would hold… but what about the walls of the vault? They were blowing their way through the ground, would have come from below or the sides… tell me, how did those radroaches get in again?" he asked and she could see how Wersker's face scrunched up at the mention of that event. Even Moreno began to glare at him, yet of course Jim stood his ground, unafraid, not that he ought to be in that kind of armour. If he needed to he could probably kill everyone in this room and they wouldn't even be able to do more than dent his armour.

Satisfied he had shut up the older man Jim lowered a finger before continuing. "The second was when the Enclave decided to come knocking. Probably would have conscripted or killed the lot of you were I not there to end them."

At the mention of the enclave her men began to grow nervous at the fact. More than a few had heard Butch's stories about them, about the men out there that had tried to conquer the capital wasteland. They'd tried to gain access to the vault only for her father to deny them access. From what Butch had relayed to them about the Enclave, it didn't paint a pretty picture of what might have happened had they gotten in. Worse yet it weakened her position as well since they knew that the second even had happened for sure. The corpses of Enclave soldiers by a ruined vertibird near the cave's entrance had effectively confirmed the story. Even if the first one could be blown off as a fabrication, the second incident couldn't.

"Now… if you don't take this girl in, I won't be around when there is a third," he said. Once upon a time Amata would have called that as a bluff, no matter how gruff his voice sounded now, no matter how grimy and how much like one of the savage outsiders he looked, she'd have been able to call that as a bluff. But… he'd changed since he was out there. Where before he was happy go lucky, an intelligent and bright if not too confident man, now, his voice held none of the mirth from before, and there was a coldness to it that sent doubt into her heart.

Damn it all, she thought before finally nodding. "Fine then, we'll take her in, clean her up."

"Good," was all he said. Gently, far gently than she'd thought could be possible in such a heavy suit of armour, Jim gently pushed the girl forward.

"Overseer…" Wersker asked but Amata silenced him with a gesture of her hand.

"What's done is done. Moreno, get the girl some new quarters, there are more than enough around here."

"Yes ma'am," the young man answered with a hasty salute, earning a smile from the girl and getting him to smile as well. From there he and the girl left the room. Amata meanwhile looked to the rest of her security team.

"Leave us, I want to speak with our guest," now how to fix this, or at least make it so that people won't object too much. "I need to make sure that our guest doesn't try anything like this again, understand?"

"Ma'am, are you sure it's wise to leave you with him? He could be dangerous," Wersker said and Amata couldn't help but laugh.

"If he wanted to kill us he would have no trouble doing so whether you were here or not. Now go," the rest of vault security didn't like it, yet even so they finally after a time relented. They slipped away from the entrance area further into the vault and closing the door behind them. She was under no illusions that they were truly gone and would come back through the door if they heard anything concerning. Finally as the last of them were gone, she smiled at her former best friend and descended the stairs until they were on the same level, though he of course towered over her. Leaning against the lower rung of the railing she looked up at him.

"It's been a while… a bit less than a decade right?"

"Something like that," he said as he raised his hands to the helm. For a brief moment there was nothing before as he turned the helm, there was a hiss of pressure, before finally he lifted it and she saw his face. The first thing she noticed was that he'd aged. The man in front of her was almost in his thirties, just like her. For a moment she briefly looked for that youthful remnant that should have been there among the scruff and grime, yet it was all gone. Even his eyes had shifted, changed and turned haunted by his time out there.

"What's going on Jimmy, why've you brought her here?" she asked, her tone low as she asked. He was silent for a long time after she asked that. Once upon a time she'd have been able to see all those emotions plain on his face. Now she could only guess as he thought, as he muddled over what to say.

"I need to keep her safe… she's my daughter and… this is the only place I can think of that might stand a chance at that," he said, his voice less hostile, more lost, or perhaps sorrowful was the best way to put it. It was still hard, nothing like the grief that would consume a person here, but still… it was a hard world out there…

"Is the Enclave back?" she asked, worry spreading across her own face but then Jimmy shook his head.

"No… They're gone… but things have changed, the Brotherhood has changed…" once more silence reigned for long moments. "They killed Sarah… after everything she did for the Brotherhood, they killed her. I didn't want to believe it but they did…"

Amata's frown grew as she heard this. While she didn't know too much about the wasteland out there, the death of the Brotherhood's new Elder, Sarah Lyons, had been big news on Galaxy News Radio. For a time Three Dog had implied that it was a super mutant with a powerful rifle or something like that, that she killed hundreds of them before finally falling… but if the Brotherhood had instead done it…

"She's Elder Lyon's daughter as well?" she asked and Jimmy nodded. He blinked and Amata saw a single solitary tear falling down his cheek. "Will they come for her?"

"Maybe… they weren't before… but once I start they may want to grab some hostages," Amata didn't need to ask what he meant by "once he started." From all that she'd heard about him on GNR, he was an unstoppable killing machine for good, slaughtering raiders, super mutants, and even Enclave soldier in a storm of death. Now though it seemed that he'd turned his eyes on the Brotherhood, and found them wanting.

"Cut off access to the outside by noon, don't accept any signals for the next few months… I should be done by then… and if not… well, I guess it won't matter," with that he put the helm back on, and twisted it to seal it once again. Taking this as a sign Amata pushed off the railing to head for the controls. She flicked the switch and the giant door was slowly opened. Once open, Jimmy turned to leave though Amata called out.

"Hey!" he turned to her. "If what you're saying is true, give them hell."

He nodded and began to march out once more. She wasn't sure if it would be the final time, or if she would ever see him again. Hopefully though, she'd see him again once he was done.

<><><><><><><><><><><><><>

If you enjoyed that please leave a like, a comment, and maybe even subscribe~!

 

[Thread Necromancer]

Chapter 2

Thank you to Charging Seahorse for subscribing~!

<><><><><><><><><><><><><>

"Left flank, mutant reinforcements coming centre, engage them!" there was the sound of an explosion coming from somewhere on the right flank. Thankfully Paladin Tec didn't hear any calls for medic, but rather the ever present retort of laser rifles and the assault rifle rounds flying down range at the assaulting force of mutated humans. Tec himself noted one of the mutants rising from cover, a bazooka in his hand as he tried to aim at their fortified position. Aiming his own LAER, Tec fired down range, his aim off from his haste as the advanced laser weapon blew the beast's arm off rather than its head. On any normal human it would have been a kill shot, yet of course it kept fighting. Reaching with it's remaining arm it tried to grab for a submachine gun on it's hip before Tec put it out of it's misery with a shot to it's chest. The crater left behind finally seemed to put the thing down as it fell back. His time spent on that one super mutant however, had allowed two more to come in from the left flank that his men were supposed to have pinned down.

"Left flank!"

"Can't, fucking-"

"Die humie!" Tec looked to his left to the far end of the diner and finally noticed a small group of super mutants had come in close in the last few seconds and had engaged his men.

"Left flank needs help!" he called into the comms and both the paladins at his side finally realised the danger at the far end of the diner. "Jeff, go support-"

Yet even as he said that there was the rapid fire sound of sniper rounds flying down range. High calibre sniper rounds at that.

"Sniper!" Tec called out and crouched, knowing the danger that a proper sniper still posed to even power armoured individuals. Especially with how much battle damage they'd taken already. If it was just one of the local low calibre hunting rifle rounds or even just some 5.56 he might not have worried to much but the heavy boom of anti-material rounds sent a spark of fear through his heart. He knew exactly how effective a decent sniper was with such a rifle even against power armour. They all knew. That kind of rifle thankfully was excessively rare in this part of the country, but the presence of one promised death for any Paladin that did not give the weapon and its wielder its due respect.

"Fuck, holy shit!" someone from the left flank called out on the comms, panicking, possibly as one of his comrades was taken out. "I think they're friendly, Christ. Left flank is no longer engaged in melee, engaging long distan- long distance targets eliminated! Fuck that's gotta be Jimmy!"

"Morning fellas," suddenly Tec heard the gravelly voice of Jim say over the comms while excitement and hope suddenly surged within Tec as he heard that. He couldn't help himself even if he wanted to from the smile that split his face at the mention of the local hero, the wasteland messiah that had more often than not turned battles from assured defeats to complete crushing victories for the Brotherhood of Steel. With a rush of adrenaline he rose from his crouch and took aim at the super mutants that were closing in on the diner. Yet even as he did the boom of anti-material rounds continued to be fired off and the small fire team of mutants had their brains splattered across the pavement, each taken out with perfect headshots.

"Hey Jim, leave some for the rest of us!" he called out in a joking tone, earning a short breathy chuckle from Jim, yet he said no more and of course kept no promises. Tec made to move to support his two men on the right flank but then they radioed through.

"Right flank secure. Managed to kill the last one before Jim could get a bead on it," Tec recognised the young squire turned paladin. The young fifteen year old was proud of himself to have beaten the Brotherhood's guardian angel of death to a kill, as he should be. On the two times Tec had found himself even near the main part of the Lyon's Pride's command squad, he'd honestly found it hard to do more than provide covering fire while Jim and Sarah had mopped the floor with whatever enemy they were fighting together.

As he thought of that though, his memories shifted to the woman that had for the longest time been their commanding officer… the woman that had led them, had been their Elder for a time until…

He shook himself, pushing his thoughts to the side as he and his squad left the ruined diner. From one of the ruined corner buildings Tec saw Jim jump down from a large hole in the building to the ground below. The shock absorbers in the armour let him get down without the slightest of worry, especially in how good a condition Jim's armour always was in. Tec was sure that if Jim hadn't purposefully dulled the armour it would have shined. Making his way over, Tec smiled under his armour as he approached the living legend himself.

"Glad to have you with us sir," Tec said. Technically Jim was only a knight as far as their ranks were concerned so Tec officially out ranked him. Of course, that was only because Jim more often than not would go and roam the wastes solo or maybe with one of his friends he'd recruited during his adventurers. Unofficially though, Tec and pretty much most of those that had worked with either him or seen both him and Sarah in action knew that he might as well be their commander. With how much he'd helped them out, even joining in on their various assaults, not to mention Operation: Broken Steel that had cemented the Enclave's defeat in the west. Hell if Jim ever properly joined the Brotherhood Tec was damn sure that Paladin Tristan, the Lyon's Pride's commanding officer ever since Elder Lyon passed, he would step down immediately to let their commander in all but rank take his rightful place at their head. She probably would have wanted it that way anyways. "Happy coincidence or were you looking for us sir?"

"I was looking for you and your squad Tec," he said and Tec's brows rose at that. While he had suggested it, he hadn't actually expected that Jim might actually be looking for him and his fellows. Whatever this was it had to be serious for him to come looking for support. Instantly he stood to attention for Jim. The rest of his squad which had been coming up noted the change and as they walked up did the same for Jim. Jim in his own power armour nodded at their stances before he finally spoke up.

"I have recently obtained information that indicates that Sarah Lyon's death was no mere battlefield casualty," Jim suddenly declared and were they not already at attention, were they not already frozen, they would have been. Tec knew immediately that their eyes were likely wide under their helms, their expressions likely hard as steel. It hadn't been a strategic blunder, an oversight due to overconfidence in the strength of their armour? He bet most of them wanted to ask it but didn't know how. They all wanted to ask how he knew this, but as the seconds ticked by; no one dared speak up, to question their commander in all but name.

"I'm sure that despite how much my word counts for in the Brotherhood, especially among the Lyons, you still want proof," he suddenly spoke up, answering their silent queries as if he'd read their minds. Reaching for his pip boy, he produced a holodisk and held it out for Tec to take.

"This is a copy of the orders given to a member of the Circle of Steel specifically sent here to help deal with Elder Lyons," as Jim said that Tec's lips pursed, suddenly remembering one of those strange members of the Brotherhood from out West. A man in an American style stealth suit re-branded to the symbols of the mysterious Circle of Steel… with an anti-material rifle. He'd only been on base for a short amount of time, declaring that he was sent by one of the West Coast chapters to see about obtaining copies of their technology records. They all generally had thought it a bit odd that the West had sent a man that not only wasn't a scribe, but didn't really seem to fit into any of the usual three ranks within the Brotherhood. They'd never even heard of the Circle of Steel before but Paladin Maxon had confirmed all of his credentials…

And now he'd been promoted to Elder…

He couldn't have… He hadn't been promoted right after… but then there hadn't been anyone to properly lead except for him…

Tec took the holodisk, not wanting to believe that such duplicity could be within the Brotherhood. He wished he could see in to Jim's eyes, to see into the man's soul. It wouldn't help him determine if the once bright and cheery man was lying, he was too charismatic and smart to be caught out even if it was a lie, but at least he'd be able to see his face under the power armour helm.

With such a revelation, there was no way that this could go unpunished, no way that it could be left like this. Tec knew it, the squad knew it, he was sure that anyone who had this info knew it. With Jim bringing this to him, he meant to act, and he'd need their support for this.

Tec wondered if that meant that Jim would be properly joining the Brotherhood now, or if perhaps this was just to right some wrongs before he wandered off again.

"What are you orders sir?" Tec asked, his voice hard, his desire to avenge his former Elder burning inside of him already.

"Nothing for now," Jim said. "I still have a few more of the new Lyon's Pride to check up on. Check on the data. Paladin Tristan has the original if you're curious. You can check the metadata there to confirm that I am telling the truth."

Tec nodded at that though he had no need to go searching through the metadata. He knew he could trust Jim, hell, the entire pride knew that they could trust him, and come hell or high water they'd follow him anywhere.

<><><><><><><><><><><><><>

"That's another squad," Paladin Tristan muttered as he sighed while reading Jim's message from his pip boy to Tristan's own. Swiftly deleting the message, Tristan moved navigated on his pip boy to his "inventory" screen where he liked to keep track of what he generally had on his person. He wasn't a merchant, or Jim. He didn't have an exhaustive list of everything he picked up with icons dedicated to quickly figuring out what he was scrolling over. He just had the basic stuff that he generally had on him, plus a few extra things.

Unless someone was in fact a merchant, or Jim, most people's "inventory" screens were usually cluttered messes of things that a person picked up, entered in, and then forgot to delete the entry of. Some people used it as a kind of check list of what they should have on them. Hell, some people never even bothered to put anything into their "inventory" page because they felt it was a waste of time. Tristan ever since he, and much of the rest of the Brotherhood had gotten a hold of several pip-boys, liked to keep it seeming like a reminder screen.

Seeming.

In truth, after Jim had brought him his evidence… the orders given to that Circle of Steel assassin, he'd been using it to keep track of who was on their side. Selecting the option to enter an entry, he did the same thing he always did when recording a new squad joining the cause. He added a laser rifle entry, and modified the name to say Tec's laser rifle.

Scrolling through the list of "laser rifles" he saw, he still felt it was too little. Barely any support staff, mostly combat personal thus far, and only really veterans of the Lyon's Pride, and all of them that had served with Sarah Lyon in one way or another. Leaning back in his chair, he stopped looking at his pip-boy as he gazed blankly at the ceiling, the old office chair still somehow able to support a human's weight after all of this time. Six squads of knights and paladins, two teams of squires, and a single scribe. Once upon a time that might have been a lot of firepower. Hell it was more people than what they had to assault Project Purity with. Excluding Liberty Prime, they had used four squads of knights and paladins with the Lyon's Pride taking point. But with how many that Maxon had recruited from the locals, not to mention the outcasts joining back up with them now. They still didn't like wastelanders, but Elder Maxon's promises combined with the approval of the west coast chapters and they were willing to overlook some of the indiscretions left over from the rule of both the Elder Lyons.

Leaning back forward Tristan went back to the terminal he'd claimed for himself and opened up the duty roster postings he had set up. There weren't many more veterans to recruit to their cause… and he'd soon have to send out more patrols of those who came after, those who only knew Sarah Lyons by her reputation as the leader of the expanding Lyon's Pride, or just barely by her being the Elder when they'd been recruited. Many new to the Brotherhood had never fought with Sarah. While they were a part of the brotherhood, they shared no brotherly kinship with their former Elder.

Sure… some might turn if they knew about the assassination… but Paladin Tristan had a feeling that much of the wastelanders who'd been initiating into the Brotherhood wouldn't care. If anything they might be seen as enemies. The Brotherhood donated purified water to all the communities, buying their loyalty. If they disrupted that… that would potentially make them the enemy wouldn't it?

Especially since part of the plan if things went tits up was to secure Project Purity for their own use.

<><><><><><><><><><><><><>

If you enjoyed that please leave a like, a comment, and maybe even subscribe for earlier access to my work~!

 

[Thread Necromancer]

Chapter 3

Thank you to ChargingSeahorse for subscribing~!

<><><><><><><><><><><><>

"Elder Maxon," Rick Connery said, his Circle of Steel recon hood pulled back to reveal his brown hair and rat like face as he walked into the young Elder's office. The Elder scowled as he looked up from the paperwork he was dealing with. "Would you mind dismissing your guards."

The Elder's eyes narrowed as he looked at Connery hard for a moment. Connery himself watched him closely, waiting, his fingers itching for his revolver yet never moving for it. He knew the guards he'd walked past didn't like him, hell the Elder didn't like him either. It'd be so easy for the Elder to tie up just one more loose end if he ordered them to…

"Paladin Tull and Aaron, can you two step outside for a moment?" he asked and Connery was able to relax a smidgen, but only a smidgen. If something happened and he was forced to act, Maxon's support would be about a second or so away behind him. Long enough to activate his stealth boy, something he longed for since it would finally pull him out of the vision of people. Keep them from staring at him and his almost glowing, translucent skin.

"Connery… to what do I owe the pleasure of your visit?" the Elder asked, leaning back in his chair, exuding a seeming air of trust towards Connery, though Connery himself knew better than to trust that.

"To who and what he is doing," Connery said, raising a pipboy he'd gotten off of a target who used to live in a vault many years ago. Withdrawing a holotype from it, he put it onto Elder Maxon's desk.

"This is a recording I made of a conversation with a knight named Sanders, he had something rather interesting to report to me," Connery said and Maxon raised his brow.

"To you? Why would he be reporting to you?"

"Because I'm the only outsider here and he decided that no one could be trusted here," he said and the Elder's brow furrowed further.

"Alright, what's going on then? What did he report?"

"It seems that there is something of a rebellion brewing among the ranks. Not everyone is particularly thrilled with your ascension to Elderhood," Connery said.

"I see. Any particular reason why?"

"It would seem… that your orders to me were discovered," Maxon's eyes hardened as he heard that, his lips pursed. He took a breath before he finally sighed.

"I see… Who knows about this?"

"I don't rightly know. But it would seem that his squad was approached by one Paladin Jim, or as many know him, the Lone Wanderer," those eyes grew harder still, a grumble from the Elder's chest came out as his head fell to his hand, before he violently leaned forward and slammed that fist into his desk.

"Fuck!" he shouted, his expression thunderous, his scowl nearly showing his teeth. "This is the worst thing that could have happened. How the hell did he find out?"

"I don't know, but he's determined that I killed your predecessor under your orders. Whether it is a lucky guess or he somehow managed to retrieve those encrypted and deleted files doesn't matter. What matters now is what you are going to do about it?" Connery explained, trying to bring the Elder back to the task at hand.

"You're right. So then, who knows? Wait… Sanders, I don't remember a Sanders in the Lyon's Pride… are they new?"

"No, Knight Sanders is part of one of the more recently recruited "wastelander" squads that have been swelling your ranks as of late."

"Not a peep out of the Lyon's Pride?" Connery gave the Elder a shake of his head. "Then we can't count on any of them… They likely would have been the first he'd contact to bring to his side, they actually knew the woman."

"Rather unfortunate to lose such an elite force," Connery observed, knowing from his time here that the Lyon's Pride were the meanest bunch of the entire chapter. In the training games that sometimes occurred in the safer areas of DC, they regularly came out on top in those training exercises, even when compared to the former "Outcasts" who were themselves an elite force.

"Unfortunate but likely necessary… unless…" the Elder started nodding at a thought he was having. "We might be able to salvage this… Or at least for a few of them, though…"

The elder sighed before he turned and started to rapidly type at his personal terminal. Connery didn't like it, wondering a moment if the Elder was looking to make amends with the traitors, to possibly toss him to them as an offer… Illogical of course and he tried to purge it from his mind… yet that paranoid niggling continued to tap at him, making his right hand twitchy. It wasn't until the Elder grumbled again and printed something that Connery's admittedly paranoid inner worry began to subside a bit.

"Not as many as there could be," Maxon said as he laid the sheet out onto the table, and Connery gazed down at it. It was a list of names… all of them were children from the looks of it… and all of them related to the Lyon's Pride in some way.

"What exactly are you planning with this?" he asked, though he could already imagine what the Elder might be thinking. It was one of the reasons that Connery had started to distance himself from his girlfriend back West all those years ago when he first joined the Circle of Steel. If someone had wanted to control him, all it would have likely taken at the time was for them to get a hold of her and he'd be under their control.

"I remember reading somewhere that back during the medieval period, kings would sometimes have the children of their nobility tutored or invited to live in the capital both because it would allow them to indoctrinate them into being loyal, but also because they could be used as hostages. Then even if the nobility grew disloyal, they could never rebel against them. Hopefully I can replicate that here… at least until they are no longer needed," Maxon said as Connery nodded, his thinking going somewhat the same way. Granted, this could burn any bridges that Maxon had with the Lyon's Pride, but if they were already planning on rebelling, or were wilfully ignoring their fellows rebelling…

Of course, there was also the fact that if he failed to secure the children or even lost them he would be dealing with a far larger issue than before. More than just the Lyon's Pride could turn if it was revealed that Maxon was capable of descending to such depths. Several of those that have joined the Brotherhood as of late had the annoying tendency to be rather morally upstanding. This was likely due to several of their recruits having come from the Regulators who imagined that the Brotherhood was an organisation for goodness and justice rather than what it truly was.

The stop gap meant to keep humanity from destroying itself once again, to stop those ignorant savages outside of their organisation from destroying the world a second time.

Thankfully in this case, many of the savage wastelanders recruited into Maxon's Brotherhood were more self interested than anything else. Thus they could easily be led by the nose like brahmin to do the bidding of their more enlightened superiors.

"If I remember correctly… Paladin Jim has a child here as well. Perhaps you could nip this rebellion in the bud by merely taking his child hostage?" Connery suggested but was just as quickly rebuffed.

"Not a chance," Maxon declared, leaning back as he spoke. "There would be no way of keeping his kid as a hostage. Even if we wanted to he could just sneak in here or hell, blast his way in, and take his kid back before we even had the chance to aim a gun at her head. Then we'd show our hand and have nothing for it."

"Ah… he's one of those kinds of people," Connery said and frowned as he did. Those kinds of people were menaces if you got on the wrong side of them. Those special people with which the world seemed to revolve around or with whom managed to change the world around them. People like their founder Roger Maxon, President Tandi of the NCR back in California, the Vault Dweller, the Chosen One, and potentially Paladin Jim the Lone Wanderer from Vault 101.

"Indeed, and from what I remember of the war with the Enclave, he's relentless… he won't be stopped until he achieves his goal," Elder Maxon said and the two were silent for a long moment. No doubt the Lone Wanderer wanted justice for the death of his girlfriend. Connery almost felt a bit of wry amusement that his paranoia, his quite literal pathological addiction to remaining ever unseen, ever under the comforting cloak of a stealth field was now justified. It was hardly paranoia after all if someone really was out to get you.

His fingers twitched now as he gazed at the thoughtful Elder. Briefly he wondered if perhaps it might be better for the Brotherhood if Maxon were to die. If he did it would potentially right a wrong and reel this great man back into the Brotherhood. Sure, Arthur Maxon was the last of the Maxon line and the one who managed to reunite the East Coast Brotherhood after their schism. However, he was young… and Connery…

He resisted a smile. He was a member of the Circle of Steel, a known paranoid group of mind addled psychopaths only kept around because of how useful they were. It wouldn't be too outrageous to say that the certified mad man had finally snapped?

Course, not here. He'd have to kill him in a place where he could escape… perhaps… Connery thought of the various tall buildings, which ones would be stable enough to support him climbing up those crumbling ruins? When might Maxon be out of his office and ready to be killed for the good of the Brotherhood?

"What might happen should he kill you? Just suddenly decides to assassinate you rather than this rebellion angle he seems to be going for?" Connery asked, keeping his homicidal thoughts out of his body language for the moment. At the question Maxon snorted.

"Well first off he'd lose any respect or standing he had with the Brotherhood. They'd turn on him, maybe even his Lyons. He's a tough man… but I doubt he could kill me and get away with it… probably."

"Will the Brotherhood survive if he did such a thing?" Connery asked and Maxon frowned. He looked at Connery, was that suspicion in his eyes? Connery wanted to scowl at his mistake. He'd been too direct, or perhaps Maxon had realised exactly what he was planning. He could imagine the silent alarm suddenly being sent out. The guards would barge into the room and shoot him in the back. His hand twitched, a cold sweat breaking out across his back, his stomach suddenly flipping as he resisted the urge to kill his murderer before he even-

"Not a chance. We're barely holding it together as it is," Elder Maxon said, pushing his seat back away from the panels, away from any buttons he could touch. His hands were up in a triangle, a seemingly normal move but Connery could tell what it meant. He was showing Connery his hands, keeping them where Connery could see them. Maxon knew about Connery's paranoia, knew what he was doing and was eliminating the potential misunderstandings. But had the Elder already pressed a hidden button before backing away from the desk?

No sound from outside, no thump of armoured boots or the panicked charge of the guards through the door. So he probably hadn't activated some alarm.-

"For one, if I were to die, the Outcasts would either break off once again, or at the very least try to wrestle control using our reconnection with the west to claim authority over the chapter," as he spoke Maxon took his eyes off of Connery, seeming deep in thought but it could also be just another way to keeping the Circle of Steel assassin from finding anything threatening about him. "Meanwhile Paladin Jim would likely plead his innocence, either that or he has already proven it to the Lyon's Pride and now he would be trying to convince those who've just joined up that he is justified… That might convince some of the former Regulators that joined up with us… though the wastelanders… they'd turn on him unless he could convince them that now he was their meal ticket…"

"Could he?"

"No. By murdering a Brother within the Brotherhood, he has shown himself a villain and is cast out right?" Elder Maxon asked as if lecturing a child. Even so Connery played along, nodding at the Elder who smiled before continuing. "Then there is no way he could organise such an effort, and even then… it might be a good idea to get some loyal people at the purifier… Especially since even without me, there is no way that the Brotherhood wouldn't seek to secure the water purifier. With me out of the picture, chaos that would ensue, we'd lose the support of the wastelanders as the Brotherhood likely couldn't continue their donations of water to the wastes, or just might find it unappealing to waste it on savages."

"Could the Lyon's Pride take over? Paladin Tristan? What if he were to take charge?" Connery asked but Maxon waved it off.

"He's not Elder material. If he were to take control he would run the Brotherhood into the ground, or so fundamentally change it by pursuing the ideals of both the Elder Lyons' ideals that we would be a part of the Brotherhood of Steel in name only."

"And if the former Outcasts took over?"

"Perhaps it'd be even worse… the Outcasts will not accept new blood into the Brotherhood, and for good reason. Even so they'd alienate the Lyons, the former regulators and the wastelanders. Sure our Brotherhood would be closer to what it is meant to be, but sometimes there needs to be a bit of change or otherwise the whole thing could crack. They don't yet understand that the wastelanders are a resource, a source of manpower we sorely need. With how pathetic and worthless their towns are and with how little of a sense of self they have, we could easily rule them and indoctrinate them into our ways. The entirety of DC could become Brotherhood territory, our own little demesne to rule as we see fit, to guide how we see fit into a real future. Within a life time the Brotherhood could be more than just a few power armoured knights on a mission to stop the second apocalypse, but rather leaders and teachers for humanity."

"What you suggest is going beyond the codex," Connery stated yet Maxon had a rebuff.

"Yet what I lay forth will be more effective at achieving our goals than simply going out and poking around old ruins or slaughtering those who's technology has progressed too far. We are but a small organisation that doesn't even reach all of North America. Not to mention that from what I've heard out West the Brotherhood is rapidly losing its power and influence, especially after it failed to destroy the NCR. Nations are forming underneath our feet and we are powerless to stop it unless there is change. We have power in the East for now, but what are we to do when the wastelanders start to form their own nations? When their pathetic excuses for towns start to actually grow and develop? What do we do when they've grown so powerful that we can not simply destroy them when their researchers get too far? We'll end up just like the West Coast Brotherhood and like a light we will be snuffed out. No. We need to change, to move away from being a mere Brotherhood to become a nation. A nation that is ruled by us so that we may keep humanity on the right path," The part about the west coast annoyed Connery… but he had a point unfortunately. Despite their best efforts the Brotherhood was being eclipsed by the wastelanders of all things. The savages were growing ever more powerful, and they hadn't been ruthless enough to stop their growth until it was too late.

Even now, Connery remembered how things were before he was sent out here. How at the end much of the Brotherhood had hidden within their bunkers and quests to retrieve technology had grown few and fewer. Almost none were sent into the more populated areas of the NCR or areas controlled by a raider tribe known as "Caesar's Legion." Soon enough they would clash with the NCR again, or perhaps Caesar's Legion, and this time they might not have the luxury of retreating back into their bunkers to escape their wrath.

"Can we guarantee that he won't try this option?" Connery asked to which Maxon shook his head.

"As unlikely as it is that he would do such a thing, we can't rule it out. It would seem that I might have to redouble my security, keep more teams back at the citadel, make it more of an unappealing target. I'll need to send out the Lyons more… yes that should work for the moment. Not to mention that it might get rid of a few of the more disloyal among them."

"And what about the Lone Wanderer?" Connery asked. Elder Maxon frowned for a moment, contemplating… before finally sighing.

"He needs to be taken out of the picture. With him fomenting rebellion it will only be a matter of time before the number of those that support him starts to out number those that will side with us," Maxon declared and Connery already was imagining how he might accomplish the task. From what he knew the Lone Wanderer had a house in Megaton. The personal protection of the Lone Wanderer had already bolstered the formerly flagging sinkhole of a city. Connery wrinkled his nose at the thought of that ridiculous place. Who the hell thought building a city around an undetonated nuclear bomb was a great idea, and in a sink hole no less? How the town hadn't been flooded or had fallen apart from mud slides and the shoddy foundations of the place he had no idea. Still… it could give some advantages.

"How many collateral casualties are you willing to allow?" Connery asked and for a moment the Elder seemed to consider it… up until he seemed to realise what Connery was asking.

"I hope you are not thinking what I think you are," the Elder levelled a hard stare at him. Since he likely guessed right Connery explained.

"It would be a sure fire way of killing him, and it would deal with that hole of retarded savages along with their ridiculous cult."

"That "hole of retards" you are referring to is the second largest settlement we are recruiting out of at the moment. It brings just as much manpower as Rivet city if not more so. Then there is the fact that with those farms of theirs they are our second most productive food source. The best food source if you look at it from a cost benefit analysis since we don't have to provide them Radaway just to make their food edible. No. No blowing up Megaton even if it would deal with our Lone Wanderer situation. I won't have us chopping off our nose just to spit in the face of these rebels. Surely you must have a different idea on how to deal with him?"

"I have a few, that was just the one with the best chance," Connery said as more ideas filtered into his head. With enough C4…

"Good. Deal with it then," Elder Maxon commanded and Connery couldn't help the smile on his face as he nodded. Partially his smile was because he had an assignment, and partially because with this dismissal, he could finally return to wearing his stealth field, he could return to being unnoticed and unseen.

"Of course. Until we meet again," Connery said and with that he turned on his Stealth-Boy before heading for the exit so that he could perform his newest task.

<><><><><><><><><><><><>

If you enjoyed that please like, comment, and maybe subscribe~!

 

[Thread Necromancer]

Chapter 4

Thank you to Charging Seahorse for subscribing~!

<><><><><><><><><><><><><>

"Is that all?" CeeCee smirked as she crossed her arms and pressed up her chest. Little improvements she got at some automated cosmetic surgery place that was still running in the middle of what used to be Super Mutant territory, at least until she and her gang had managed to finally clear it out. Interestingly the stuck up weirdo with the supped up leather armour certainly took notice as she did so. "Cause I wouldn't mind doing a few other things for you if you wanna pay me just a bit extra."

Come on guy, take the bait, then I can wrap you right around my finger, the raider thought as cocked her hip in such a way that the shitty padded mattress acting as a battle skirt was shifted just right so he could get a look at her thigh. Not the most sexy but it was hard to be sexier than wearing strainers on your breasts that he could clearly see.

"You… don't happen to have a stealthboy on you… do you?" he asked and CeeCee blinked as she heard that. A stealthboy? Oh fuck he was gay or something. Shit… and she didn't really have any guys who knew about whoring around here. Not after the last assault on the super mutant base got all but a few of the men killed in the distraction assault.

"Sorry, can't say I have a stealth boy, but I know a place where I could get one," she said suggestively and mimicked the stroking motion as if she had a cock. There was a gentlemen's club around here if she remembered what a friend of hers, Jesse, told her before she ran off to the Pitt. Surely they had a strap on she could use for lover boy here, and if not, at least a dildo she could rig up with some rope and-

"You know where I could get one of these?" he asked after a long pause watching her pretend stroke a strap-on. In his hand was… some kind of device.

"Oh…" CeeCee said and a few gals of hers within earshot snickered at her misfortune. "Hey fuck off!"

"Unfortunate. Either way, make sure that this gets done."

"Yeah yeah I got it. Go kill a bunch of blood sucking muties in some tunnels with this new shit you just got us and wait for the Boy Scout to come along and find out what happened to his pet vampires." CeeCee rattled off, and as she did she nodded her head off towards the crate of good shit that they'd gotten from the leather gimp suit wearing weirdo. They'd gotten everything ranging from high quality drugs and shit, a crate full of armour for her girls and even some proper guns and ammo. Fuck the shitty street sweepers they'd been using, the shotties that gimp boy had brought her could actually hit shit past ten yards. Though, they looked kind of funny with their magazines hiding behind the thing's pistol grip.

"You're forgetting about the C4," the man said pointedly and CeeCee blew a raspberry at him.

"I ain't forgotten shit, but come on, we're a whole gang of gals armed with… what'd you call these things?"

"Those are Bullpup variant Winchester City-Killers. They are twelve gauge shotguns from before the war and have been modified to have a half choke to increase their spread. They are not effective against power armour, even if I had equipped your lot with slugs. Not to mention that your target regularly deals with raider gangs like yours. If the tunnel trap fails, retreat and try to regroup. I'll contact you with the rest of the payment once you and your girls have either succeeded or failed."

"Yeah sure whatever. Just get going guy before I decide that you're better off as a hostage than as a paymaster ya faggot," she threw that last barb for her own amusement and as expected, creepy dude barely even reacted before turning invisible like a god damn ghost. She could just barely make out a haze in the air before that too left for her camp's little exit. Sighing, CeeCee looked to her gals that were salivating over the guns and a few had even popped some of the combat drugs the guy had given them.

"Alright ya cunt lickers, lets go a huntin'!"

<><><><><><><><><><><><><>

"Fuckin' hell I hate god damn cannibals," Jackson said as he grumbled while giving a savage kick to a body part from one of the almost human muties that had taken the place over at some point. "Why the fuck would the Boy Scout let these fuckers live? I thought he was supposed to be a goody two-shoe or some shit?"

"Pfft, who knows? Maybe he didn't know or maybe they were paying him? I mean shit that weirdo in the vampire outfit had caps and shit up the wazoo," CeeCee said aloud as she leaned against the rails for the platform that overlooked the rest of the place. The place itself looked like a bloodbath. Dead mutant cannibals were left lying everywhere, the "city-killers" easily slaughtering them even with indirect fire. Only a few of them had assault rifles and as such their newly obtained body armour easily survived against the pathetic thirty twos and nine mill bullets sent their way. In truth they only lost maybe two girls in the attack, their blitz throwing chaos among the cannibal ranks while they flooded in and started blasting.

"Heh, guess the boy in blue just ain't as upstanding and moral as we thought, always knew that fucker had a dark side," Jackson chuckled as he continued to fiddle with his shotgun. Outfitted as he was, he honestly looked less like some raider and more like a proper soldier or mercenary. Unabashedly CeeCee could admit she liked the look. There was something about that uniform and Jackson's big frame that she kind of liked. Most of the fuckers around here were scrawny from malnutrition but not Jackson. He'd managed to get enough grub to actually bulk up.

"Hey, did the gals set up the C4 yet?"

"Yup, all set up in both tunnels. Enough of the stuff to cave in the roof and we put more than a single guard out there to watch for him."

"Good… guess now we just have to wait…" CeeCee said, grinning as she did before reaching to a breast pocket that she was hiding a mickey in. "Say Jackson… since we're going to have to wait a while… Wanna have some fun?"

At her suggestion Jackson chuckled before looking her way. "And here I thought you just didn't like me."

"Nah, it's just that outfit does it for me," she declared before uncorking the flask and downing a gulp of it. Burning sailed down her throat and a grin spread across her lips while approaching her soon to be lover.

<><><><><><><><><><><><><>

"He's coming! Fuck he's coming!" one of her girls cried as she sprinted from one of the tunnels. No shotgun in hand, helm having fallen off. Fear filled her face as she sped into the area.

"Blow the fucking tunnel!" she same girl cried out.

The hell!? I didn't even hear anything, how the hell does- She had to force herself to stop and instead went for the buttons that they had rigged up. Slapping her hand down the button depressed. No plan on stealing his shit or anything, the Boy Scout didn't have his reputation for nothing. In another second, there was the sound of explosions going off, separated by a second each.

Boom boom boom boom bo- … boom? CeeCee's brow furrowed even as her gang started cheering. A few even started blasting their guns into the air above their heads, with predictable results.

"What the fuck, where are the rest…?" CeeCee's eyes went wide as she realised something, and very much hoped that she was wrong.

"Oh fuck oh fuck oh fuck," CeeCee swore as she herself grabbed at her gun and fired it off instead of into the ceiling above her instead at one of the collapsed metro tunnels.

"Shut the fuck up!" CeeCee cried out as she drew the attention of her gals and few guys. "We fucked up, mother fucker was defusing our shit. You! What the fuck did you see?"

"I uh, I didn't see shit," the girl said as CeeCee swore.

"Fuck, fuck fuck shit fuck shit. Where the fuck is your shotgun!?"

"H-he shot it! I just heard a quite pop and then bam, ricocheted off of my gun. I'm fucking lucky to be alive!"

"No you're fucking not!" Jackson suddenly chimed in, an intense look in his eye.

Oh shit right, he was in the Pitt when shit went down. He knows this fucker, CeeCee remembered as she looked to the big guy.

"That fucker planned that shit. We need to get out now!" he said and CeeCee nodded before pointing towards the only other exit to the remnants of cannibal station.

"Come on cunt lickers! We're fucking moving! Double time!" she declared, using some lingo she picked up from one of the few movies she managed to watch while high as fuck inside of some abandoned video rental store. Already holding her stuff she started to sprint for the only exit they had. If they managed to be fast about it then hopefully they got out before the Boy Scout managed to catch up with them. Considering he'd seen right through the trap CeeCee wasn't going to take any chances that he somehow got caught up in the blast. Even if he did, she didn't want to stick around to find out until after they'd gotten into the-

There was a bark of something up ahead in the tunnel and before she knew it CeeCee fell back as pain erupted in her chest. Her breath was violently punched out of her and as she fell and she felt something clip her ear, taking damn near half of it off. CeeCee fell onto her back as she felt like she couldn't breathe. Gasping for breath she rolled to the side, years of surviving as a raider against the hordes of super mutants and a few encounters with the regulators teaching her a thing or two.

Unable to think, CeeCee gazed at the wall for a moment, a cacophony of fire sounding overhead of her, piercing her focus on trying to suck a breath in. Without thinking CeeCee reached blindly for the pocket she kept her med-x in. Her groping hand was briefly pierced by the needle but she eventually managed to get it out and stabbed it properly into her thigh. It didn't matter if she was actually hurt or not, better safe than sorry.

Thankfully it seemed to help as quickly the pain in her chest slipped away. It'd hurt like a bitch later on and CeeCee finally did a quick check as she forced a breath in and reached for her chest. The lead storm of death was still going on above and CeeCee briefly considered joining in with it, but discarded the idea. All she had was her shitty Chinese pistol and that wasn't going to do a thing against the Boy Scout if he had even a bit of armour on. Gazing at her chest now, compressed by the armour, she found the plate that had made up the body armour had shattered. Cracks snaked over the armour, yet as she poked at it she didn't see any blood.

Holy shit, I'm alive. She thought as she looked around. She'd fallen behind some busted turnstile after she'd been shot. Taking a second to get her bearings, CeeCee stayed as still as possible, hoping the Boy Scout hadn't actually seen her survive and try to stay alive.

There were only a few more bullets fired as she tried this. A few more blast of shotguns firing down the hall with replying knock off AK rounds getting sent back. At the same time.... CeeCee could hear the thumping of heavy footsteps coming closer. They were... quieter than she was used to. Most of the time power armoured soldiers walked around like any other gang and would stomp around all loud and shit... yet the Boy Scout, after all who else could it be, stepped lightly in his armour.

No fucking wonder he got the drop on our gals, everyone's expecting a regular soldier boy, not realising the Boy Scout's better than that, CeeCee thought. Since he wasn't in view yet she took another look around... and her eyes landed on Jackson who had been right behind her. A spray of bullets had slid up his body until it ruined his once handsome face. Just a peek at his chest showed similar results... but the follow up shots and slipped past the armour with ease and filled his chest.

Poor bastard, she thought before finally dedicating herself to the act. Hopped up on med-x she didn't even feel the pain of her ear. Remaining still... she waited for that quiet, for power armour, step passed by her. The gunfire had mostly stopped and CeeCee silently prayed to whatever God there was to keep her safe. Then she felt a tap on her arm. That tap was hard and far larger than the average finger.

Well fuck... this is how I die, she thought... and then gazed in horror as a frag mine was waved around her face before she heard it getting tossed down behind her. Unable to help herself she whimpered as she heard it being activated. The intention was clear. If she moved, she died, so either the Lone Wanderer wanted to talk with her, or he was far more sadistic than anyone knew.

Thus CeeCee was forced to stay still, frozen for fear of setting off the deadly frag mine. She had no idea where he'd set it other than right near her neck. Sure she knew where the thing's button was but she had all of a full second to not only turn around but also hit the button that turned it off. If she got it wrong then she was fucked and thus... she stayed put... even as she heard more and more of her gang getting gunned down by the damn Boy Scout.

Long moments later though he was back and looming over her. She heard him click the mine off but still she didn't move, feeling a gun being pressed against the back of her neck.

"Now... how about you tell me why you were looking to kill me specifically and how a bunch of chem raiders managed to get all this stuff?" as he asked he poked at her helmet with his gun. Indicating in case it wasn't clear about their gear. Knowing she was beat, CeeCee sang like a squawking crow.

<><><><><><><><><><><><><>

Thank you for reading and I hope you liked it. If you did please pass me a like and maybe even a comment to show if you enjoyed it~!

 

[Thread Necromancer]

Chapter 5

Thank you to Charging Seahorse for subscribing~!

<><><><><><><><><><><><><><>

Sprocket felt someone shaking him as he opened his eyes and shifted his head. Uncaring to stop himself, he made a sound of question as he pushed himself up. As he did, he saw what looked like a knight in combat armour gazing down at him. It took him a bit to blink away the spots before he slowly realised it was his Mom, with her short pixie cut she got upon becoming a squire. His Dad, with his bristly chin, gazed down at both of them; the knight grinned down at his boy as he woke.

"Dad?" Sprocket asked and as his eyes adjusted to the semi dim light of the kids quarters, he noticed that there were a lot of knights, scribes, squires and even some paladins standing within the room with lots of kids. As he looked, he could see on the armour of the few paladins that those paladins were from Lyon's Pride as well. "What's going on?"

"Heya champ. We're doing a bit of a drill. We're slipping out from the Citadel, testing to see how well our night patrols do in catching people sneaking in and out of here," his Dad said and Sprocket took a second to figure it out… and then after that moment of working it through, he couldn't help but grin, already getting a bit excited for the idea of showing those idiot wastelanders they had on night patrol that they were a pathetic bunch.

Most of the new "knights" they recruited from wastelanders and the like were honestly kind of pathetic by comparison to someone like his Dad. Even the few paladins they'd recruited from the outside were kind of shit, making stupid decisions and only able to get out from whatever trouble they got into because they were just hard to kill. Dad complained about it all the time whenever he had to do a patrol with newly minted Paladin Dex and he had to remind the former wastelander "paladin" of the Codex.

Honestly, there was probably some kind of grown-up reason for making Dex a paladin that Sprocket just didn't understand. Even so, he would love the chance to show those fools from beyond the Citadel that they couldn't compete with a proper member of the Brotherhood. Not unless they really stepped up their game, but Sprocket highly doubted that they'd be able to do such a thing. The barbarous outsiders could barely figure out farming without their help.

Without any kind of need to be told twice, Sprocket quietly slipped out of bed and already couldn't keep the grin off of his face. Oh the night patrol would be in for it now when they managed to sneak out under their watch. He bet that Elder Maxon would tan their hides or maybe even have them whipped in the yard or something for their incompetence. That'd show the wastelanders that if they wanted to be a part of the Brotherhood that they would need to be better than they were.

Slipping on his junior squire jumpsuit, he was helping his Mom out until he was finally old enough to go out with his Dad on patrols; Sprocket could barely contain his giddiness. He could feel his heart pounding as they started to slip out of the children's barracks and into the halls of the Citadel. As he walked, he noted how, as they moved, a lot of the people he saw that were somewhat hovering in the nearby halls weren't often wastelands, and the paladins nearby in their armour were all a part of the Lyon's Pride. As he walked along with his Mom and Dad, Sprocket noted how a lot of people were sporting some kind of blue band as well on their sleeves or had some kind of Lyon motif on them. One knight in particular had his helm painted the same blue as the symbol of the Lyons.

Wow, this must be a really big operation with this many people. If the wastelanders miss this then they'll get so many lashes that they may just up and quit. Wouldn't that be something? They get all these privileges, and then they'd just waste them. Typical waster mentality that would be. The outcasts were kind of right about these kinds of people as far as Sprocket was concerned. Better used as axillaries than as proper members of the Brotherhood. He knew his parents felt differently but Paladin Cory from the former outcasts had helped him start to figure stuff like this out.

I wonder if he and the rest of the outcasts are doing something similar. Will it only be the wasters and the regular Brotherhood left? Gosh, that would be hilarious if they screwed up that badly; Sprocket chuckled at the thought yet was brought to a halt when they came to a stop, and he saw a lot of kids in the group with a number of scribes, squires and some knights as well. All of them were armed and as he looked to the boys and girls gathered there, he couldn't help but sense the unease. There was a certain amount of worry that he hadn't exactly expected...

He took a second and looked back down the hall... and the people seemed rather cagey. He'd chalked that up to the nerves of an op, of sneaking around... but... Just looking at one of the closer paladins, they were clutching their laser rifle rather tight, and looking to the group. Sprocket noticed quite a bit of gear on them as well. Rucksacks like the kind that people would have on them as they were fleeing, things that they drilled for among the young and the women. Were they doing a drill? As the thought that, his Mom pushed his own rucksack into his arms.

"Hold onto this Sprocket, just like in the drills," she said and Sprocket blinked at the phrasing. Just like in the drills? Was this not a drill? As he waited, a few more kids were ferried along to them before after a few more moments of waiting, the person at the head of their group spoke up.

"Alright, boys and girls, we'll be moving along as if in stealth. No stalking, no wandering off, no lollygagging. Treat this like the real thing. We'll be moving through some of the lower halls before heading off towards the escape tunnel. Once there, we will debrief and evaluate how you did while we wait on the others, understand?" the woman, a paladin like Elder Sarah Lyons, said, and they all nodded. That was a bit closer to normal; maybe it was just because they hadn't done one in a while?

Yet another conversation Sprocket heard a bit further back perked his ear. He had good hearing, better than most people he knew. Even his parents. It made him fairly aware and let him stay up later than he should have since he could hear the grown-ups coming farther away than anyone else. Thus, when kids saw him click off his light and hide his comic book, they did the same unless they were foolish or unobservant of what he was doing. Thankfully almost no one squealed either after the last guy who did got his ass beat in training when they punched and kicked him just a bit harder than they were supposed to. "Accidentally" of course. Glancing to the side, it was a male scribe he didn't know and a knight that worked with his Dad but he couldn't quite remember the name of.

"Why the fuck are we doing this now? We don't nearly have enough-"

"It's all we're going to get," the Scribe said, hitting the female knight in heavy combat armour with a hard glare. He saw how the woman backed down in the face of the thirty-some man despite her holding an assault rifle. "You probably haven't heard yet, but Paladin Jim managed to catch that Circle of Steel spook, caught him using raiders to target settlements, arming them as well with guns and armour from out west, then tried to kill him. Remember Sarah Lyon's death? Who says the same couldn't be done to the whole Pride?" Sprocket blinked, tried to make sense of it. He vaguely remembered the adults grumbling about the man from out west, a supposed brother that Sprocket had never actually seen but always heard about. The Scribe couldn't possibly be suggesting...?

"Jesus, never thought of that, is he at least...?"

"He's dead, and our time table has just been moved up," as the Scribe finished he turned on his heels and moved to one of the female Paladin who was taking pains not to move too much, perhaps to keep from making a noise. The Scribe came up to her and quietly spoke.

"Is that all of them?"

"It is scribe Tyson, though I think that we might be better served by taking more of them, give us some bargaining power if things go south" she answered yet the Scribe merely narrowed his gaze and shook his head.

"What do you think the wasteland would think of us if we did that? Actually, scratch that what would Paladin Jim think? How do you think he would react to us kidnapping several dozen kids from their parents even if it was a strategically viable move?"

"I'm sorry sir, I was just thinking-" she trailed of as Scribe Tyson's glare continued to bore through her power armour like it was nothing.

"Let's just get moving. Guide us Paladin," he said and soon all of them started to slowly walk their way through the building. As they walked, Sprocket grew less and less sure, his lips pursing more, and now he wished that he hadn't heard what he had. He looked to his Mom and thought to ask her what was going on, but as he started to tug on her sleeve she gave him a stony face. It was the same kind of face she made when he was about to do something stupid or maybe even deadly. Like the time he'd been messing around with a screwdriver on a microfusion cell. His questions died on his lips and ever more worry wormed it's way into his heart. He took a second to look back, and saw how his Dad wasn't there. He'd slipped away at some point, staying with the gathering of knights and paladins.

While they moved through the building Sprocket saw them pass by several people, the lot of them getting stares but no one really commented. As they passed a pair though Sprocket could hear their whispered conversation.

"What's going on?"

"No idea, think this is a brotherhood thing?"

"No clue; I barely made it into the Brotherhood. That test was hard, and I couldn't make hide or hair of their Codex," Sprocket almost couldn't help himself as he looked over to the two talking, seeing the pair of men leaning around the base in brotherhood squire overalls yet at the same time he could see the grime on them. It wasn't the same kind of grime his mother got from working in the brotherhood workshops, but rather the kind one got out from the wasteland, from being a waster and having to scrounge for two-hundred-year-old food in the various supermarkets back before they were finally taught how to farm. They at least had the excuse of food processors installed in the Citadel to keep them fed.

To hear them talk of the Codex so lightly, to dismiss it and barely be able to understand it. It made Sprocket's blood boil. Maybe the outcasts had been right, maybe these wasters didn't deserve to be part of the Brotherhood at all.

"Geeze, what a glare on that kid," one of them commented while the other sneered at Sprocket. He wanted to sneer back when Mom wrapped a hand around Sprocket's head and roughly yanked it so he looked forward.

"Eyes ahead Sprocket," Mom ordered and he complied, letting the waster get the last word in.

It didn't take them too long to make their way through the interior of the Citadel yet rather than trying to leave through the gate like Sprocket expected, they started moving up a few level. He looked towards his Mom quizzically yet no answer seemed forth coming until they reached a window where there was a knight with Lyon's symbol on him standing there and looking through it periodically.

"I didn't hear any alarms, I'm guessing that things went well?" the knight asked. The Paladin they were with nodded before responding.

"No one tried to stop us-"

"Is that so?" there was the sound of someone in power armour coming from a short distance away. Sprocket looked over and down the hall he could see the black and red of outcast paladins making their way down the hall towards them. A trio of them from the looks of it. No heavy ordinance but the way they sounded, the menace and malice in them... Sprocket shivered.

"Well isn't this suspicious? A bunch of the Lyon's Pride making their way through the base in the dead of night, their children in tow. Someone's going to talk," the black clad Paladin said in a sing song tone, his voice sounding smug, no doubt pleased at them having screwed up.

But why? What is going on between the grown-ups? What is all of this about?

"What do you want Cory? Can't you see we're in the middle of a training exercise here?"

"Last I checked there were no training exercises scheduled for at least a few hours, and none of them involved kids. So how about you tell me what's going on because it looks a lot like desertion to me."

"Like what your people did? Like how you all left and abandoned the people of the wastes? Abandoned us?" their Paladin asked yet to her line of questioning the former outcast Paladin didn't seem phased in the slightest, though the others by his side tightened their grips on their laser rifles. Scribe Tyson seemed to pick up on this as well as he stepped past the paladin woman to speak up.

"Now gentlemen, there's no need for either of us to be so hostile to each other. This is indeed a drill but-"

"Then why weren't we at least informed? The Elder makes sure that we know about such things."

"Well that would be against the whole-"

"He's not my Elder," the Lyon's Pride paladin suddenly said and both the Scribe and Paladin Cory froze.

"Tiffany," Tyson tried to speak up yet was interrupted by Paladin Tiffany who continued on.

"He's not my Elder. He murdered Elder Lyon," the Paladin continued and as she did a hush went over the group. The Scribe himself looked struck between apocalyptic rage and a bone deep fear.

"Paladin, you're personal feelings about this-"

"No, let her continue. I want to hear this," Paladin Cory said, sounding almost amused, unconcerned even as he gazed at the both of them. All around Sprocket noted the adults getting nervous, really nervous. Some of them holding their kids tighter, and Sprocket felt his Mom's hands gripping onto his upper shoulder harder, almost painfully so though he didn't voice it. Other kids around them said it but he was an older kid, nearly twelve and a half, less than two years until he could join the patrols with his Dad. He could tell what was about to happen, it'd happened enough and that was without whatever was going on that had the adults all cagey. Fighting in the Brotherhood wasn't all that common, especially under Elder Lyons but they happened and sometimes all that there was for it was to let a pair of laser heads fight it out... sometimes to the death.

And we're going to get caught up in the crossfire.

"Maxon had Sarah Lyons murdered. I've seen the proof. The whole Pride has," Paladin Tiffany said, glaring through her power armour into the eyes of the other paladins who similarly glared back.

"I don't suppose you have that proof on you now? Or thought to perhaps bring it up to someone that could perhaps deal with the Elder?" he asked and while the Scribe was about to speak up Tiffany merely snorted in her helmet.

"What good might that do? He managed to assassinate our leader and get his way into being the Elder. Half the damn new recruits worship him and besides, why wouldn't he have loyalists like you skulking around waiting to silence-"

"I'm not a loyalist," Paladin Cory cut in. "If he does anything against the Brotherhood then I'll act... but that's the thing, even if he did do what you're saying... who says that was the wrong thing for the Brotherhood?"

"You son of a-"

"Paladin, no!" Tyson tried to call out but it was already too late as Tiffany raised her laser rifle. The black-clad paladins did the same, and lasers began to fly. There were cries from the crowd and people began to scatter. Flashes of deadly light blazed through the hall and Sprocket felt his Mom shove him down and cover him as ray after ray of light shone overhead. Sprocket stared wide-eyed as the paladins gunned each other down, deadly light shooting into Paladin Tiffany as she tried to fight back, trying to dodge out of the way, yet they were too close. Paladin Cory raised his tri-beam laser rifle and, with five quick shots up close, burned through Tiffany's helmet like it was nothing. The Paladin fell back, her helmet burnt to slag while scorch marks had nearly brunt through Cory's helmet itself. The whole thing smoked and were it not for the black paint Sprocket was sure it would have been turned it.

"You alright sir?" one of Cory's paladins called out, the other taking aim at their group. The knights had already recovered from their shock and various kinds of rifles were already aimed at Cory and his compatriots. Everything from standard assault rifles to laser weapons and even a few plasma rifles were pointing at the trio. Though, Sprocket knew the armoury of paladins having helped reequip them while working with his Mom, all it would take was for them to pull out one plasma grenade-

"Hold it," Cory called out and pushed up his man's rifle as it shot, ionizing the air in front of it and scorching a spot in the ceiling. Once more they were staring off with the group. "All I'm seeing here are women and children... what about your men, and the rest of your paladins?"

"They've gone to arrest Maxon, try to end this before things get bad," Scribe Tyson declared while Paladin Cory nodded. He looked about ready to leave, to just let them go before he paused.

"Where are you planning on going?" he asked. For long moments the Scribe failed to answer.

"Planning on picking us up afterwards?"

"Someone will have to when this little coup of yours fails. Better us pulling you back in than having to pick you out of some ghoul's teeth."

"Rivet city. We'll be taking the tunnel there," the Scribe said and Cory nodded.

"Well then you better get going, and try not to get killed. We'll come and pick you up once we deal with the rest of your Pride," he declared before turning his back on them all. Sprocket and Tyson stared after the black-clad paladins. Sprocket felt his mother let out a shuddering sigh of relief, but he was focusing more on Tyson, gazing at the old man's wizened face, his pinched lips as he gazed out at the Paladin. They both knew something, and Sprocket wished he was just a bit more grown up so that he could maybe understand why Paladin Cory seemed fine to let them leave or why Tyson had so freely spoken with him and told him where they seemed to be going.

Then Sprocket's gaze fell on the Paladin just before he rounded a corner with his men. Why hadn't he cared? It sounded like Elder Maxon had their previous Elder killed, yet he didn't seem to care? Why? And what did he mean that her death... murder might not have been bad for the Brotherhood. A pain filled Sprocket at the thought as he gazed towards the corner the Paladin had passed. What did it mean... that Elder Sarah Lyon had been bad for the Brotherhood?

<><><><><><><><><><><><><><>

Thank you for reading and I hope you enjoyed it~!