#and she's like... scavenger than main soldier; she's clean up and grabbing whatever's still useful post battles

[madsciencestudent]

*pokes head around corner* So....Another idea for a Blue Song-Kindred of the Tusk power duo

Blue Song: ...You know, I didn't think you Desert Saurians took prisoners NOR spend this much effort in their recovery...

Kindred of Tusk: Dude, when I found you on the field post battle, your intestines were in your hands and you were conscious.

Kindred of the Tusk: Like hell I'm going to let you die outside of combat after that!

Kindred of the Tusk: ...Also I need to get back for you scaring the shit out me when you grabbed my foot in order to get my attention while I still thought you were a corpse.

Blue Song: ....Fair enough.

[fallout4holmes]

Journal 51

None of us slept well. At the first sign of morning, we made our way toward the Old North Church. Danse, Preston, and I compared notes on the Mechanist’s robots; they’d encountered a group of them on their way east from Sanctuary. I described meeting Ada, and explained that robobrains might hold the key to tracking down the Mechanist.

“Robo-what?” Preston asked, his eyes wide.

“Robobrain,” Danse said, as if it should be obvious. “Before the War, they were supposed to be the next generation of robotic soldier, but they were never fully implemented into the Army. They’re multi-purpose robots, with programs stored inside an organic brain contained in a domed shell atop their chassis.”

“They’re disgustin’,” Cait said.

“Sounds like it,” Preston said, indeed vaguely disgusted by the idea.

“How do you know about them, Danse?” I asked, surprised.

“They’re not an uncommon sight in the Capital Wasteland,” he said. “The Brotherhood Outcasts used them. Some were repainted in Brotherhood colors when Elder Maxson brought the Outcasts back into the fold.”

“Outcasts?” I asked.

Danse nodded, “They thought Elder Lyons, Maxson's predecessor, had lost sight of the Brotherhood's true mission. He was too focused on aiding the local populace. The Outcasts saw themselves as the true Brotherhood, devoted to the recovery and preservation of advanced pre-War technology instead of charity.” Preston made a sound. Danse looked at him, “You would hate them, Garvey.”

“Yeah, I would,” Preston stated. “And they had these robobrain things?”

“Since they couldn't increase their numbers through recruitment, they supplemented their forces with a variety of combat robots. Robobrains may appear clunky, but they are more durable, accurate, and dangerous than any protectron.”

“Even more so now that the Mechanist has modified them,” I said.

Cait grumbled, “Covered in armor, with a… what did ya’ call that sparky arm thing?”

“Tesla coil,” I supplied.

“That shite,” she nodded. “Not to mention all the other walking scrap piles fightin’ with it.”

“The main problem with fighting robots is they never know when to surrender,” Danse said.

“That’s the main problem?” Preston asked, skeptical and surprised.

“Of course. Robots aren’t much of a challenge otherwise; they’re so predictable.”

“I disagree,” I laughed. “At least, the ones we fought held no discernible pattern of combat I noticed, but then again I was preoccupied with keeping my limbs intact.”

“And yet,” Danse said with some amusement, “you consistently refuse to wear power armor.”

“How would I achieve any of my infiltration and stealth work in armor?” I said with a grin, glad to see Preston’s fond eye-roll at his soldier.

“So,” Preston cut in, “Nick’s with this Ada you mentioned? The robot with the plan to find this Mechanist person?”

I nodded, “He is.” I switched on my Pip-Boy’s radio and tuned to the Valentine Agency signal. No messages were there, so I switched to Radio Freedom. My companions remained silent as I attempted to ascertain the status of my partner. There was indeed an alert, but not exactly what I was expecting to hear.

 “You’re listening to Radio Freedom, Voice of the Minutemen. We have a special alert! Keep an eye out for a robobrain near the Mass Fusion building. General Holmes needs a piece of it to track down whoever has been making the robots terrorizing the Commonwealth. If you confront it, be careful! It’s keeping dangerous company.”

Preston cranked a charge into his musket, “Guess that’s us, huh, General?”

“I wasn’t aware that I needed a piece of another robobrain,” I started, and then I realized what must have happened. “Oh, the beacon,” I hurried forward, “I hope we’re not replacing the first one, but I presume this is Valentine and Ada’s doing.”

“Mass Fusion is still a Brotherhood outpost,” Danse stated.

I nodded, “I know. Let’s hope Maxson’s agreement to work with the Minutemen regarding the robots extends to his men on the ground.”

Cait scoffed, “Assumin’ he told anyone in the first place.”

“She’s got a point,” Preston muttered, then he said, “General, unless you got a way to fly or sail across the bay, we aren’t going to get to Mass Fusion in time.”

“I'm aware, but what else can we do? We’ll make it as far as we can.”

We made it as far as Bunker Hill before we needed to stop and rest. Danse and Preston took advantage of Mr. Savoldi’s bar while I asked Old Man Stockton if he could inform our mutual business partner I would be arriving with guests. He said if he saw them, he would let them know.

Cait initially wandered toward the bar, but soon joined me as I purchased some ammunition, a bottle in her hand. “That Danse fella sure knows how to make a girl feel welcome,” she sarcastically commented.

“I wouldn’t waste time flirting with either of those soldiers,” I said.

She smacked her forehead, “Fuckin’ idiot, of course.” She helped herself to the pack of cigarettes in my pocket, “Don’t get excited, I know you ain’t interested, either.” She lit her cigarette and walked with me back toward the bar, “You’re worried about the brain on wheels gettin’ away, aren’t ya?”

“Yes.”

She drew deep from the cigarette and drank from the bottle, “We could just keep movin’.”

“My men are tired and, though I am loathe to admit it, so am I.”

“I’ve got somethin’ that could fix that—”

“No.”

“If it’s so damn important that you get this piece," she demanded between gulps, "then why not?”

“Do not tempt me, Cait.” I breathed deep, and when I spoke again I sounded level, “Please. I know how easy it would be. That’s why I can’t.”

“You’re not makin’ any sense.”

She sounded honestly confused. So I honestly replied, “Once that door is opened again, I don’t know if I’ll be able to close it.”

She huffed, exasperated. “Where is Mass Fusion, anyway?”

“South of here, north of Goodneighbor. The gentlemen who run the bar here also rent a space to sleep. We’ll start first thing in the morning.”

Cait was gone at sunrise. Preston and Danse had noticed her missing, but hadn’t thought much of it. She’d purchased some chems, they assumed she was somewhere using them. The traders around Bunker Hill were unhelpful, though one mentioned he saw her going for a walk. We had no choice but to continue on.

A few hours later, she found us.

“Here,” she said, hurrying up to me out of breath. “This the thing?”

She handed me a device identical to the one I took from the first robobrain. The implications terrified me. “Cait. What did you do?”

“You’re welcome!” she scoffed, offended. “I went down and grabbed the thing, what the hell do you think I did? I had a bit of trouble makin’ sure I wasn’t leavin’ anything behind, but I had to work fast what with them Brotherhood bastards roamin’.”

“It seems complete.”

“Look, if you’re worried about me startin’ somethin’ you have to clean up later, don’t. They didn’t see me. The robobrain was just lyin’ there, along with all the other piles of scrap. Looked like the Brotherhood had been doin’ clean up of their own all day, so they weren’t about to start scavenging.”

“I’m not worried about the Brotherhood.”

She was startled, “Oh. Now don’t be dumb, might as well use what you’ve got, right? You needed it, I got it for you, because you couldn’t. Gonna be a mite twitchy today, but what else is new? But, uh. I figure this makes us even.”

My concern shifted to confusion, “Even?”

She nodded, “I’m stayin' behind. You don’t need me. I’m not ungrateful," she hurried to add. "You've been damn decent to me, which is more than I can say for most people in me life, but I feel pretty damn useless runnin’ next to you with those soldier boys. I’m used to lookin’ out for number one, you know? Your circle keeps gettin’ bigger and bigger. I like you, you don’t take any shite from anyone and I respect that, but I don’t want to be just a hired hand, tagging along because I have to keep bullets off you. And that's the way I see this headed.”

"I understand," I said, and it was true. "Where are you going to go?"

"Figure I’ll head down to Goodneighbor. I can find work that suits me there," she said, and then she smiled. "If you ever want to get piss drunk and pick a fight, come find me."

I shook her hand, “If you ever need assistance, whatever it may be, come find me.”

"Pff, I doubt you'll feel that way if I ever show up at your door, but thanks." She walked away.

“Too bad she didn’t stay,” Preston said.

“Really?” I was surprised. “I thought you’d be glad to see her leave.”

He shrugged, “Honestly, I am. But, at the same time, you’ve got a way of helping folks if they just stick around long enough.”

“She knows where to find him,” Danse said.

“If she lives that long.”

I sighed, “Our priority right now is to get to the Church without the Brotherhood realizing where we’re going. If Maxson was telling the truth and they really have discovered the location of the headquarters, then it is imperative they do not see us step inside it. We don’t want to announce that the Railroad has been warned. If Maxson was bluffing, then it is even more important that we not be discovered.”

“Then we wait for night and proceed under cover of darkness?” Danse asked.

I shook my head and lead the way, “We don’t have time. Instead, we’re going in the back door.”

I led them to the Railroad’s escape tunnel, all of us taking cover at every sound of a vertibird’s engine. Waiting for us inside the tunnel was a particularly formidable woman with white hair holding a minigun.

“Ah, Glory. Good afternoon.”

“Where do you think you’re going?” the Railroad agent demanded.

“I have to speak with Desdemona. It is important.”

“You think you can bring a soldier in power armor through our back door and not raise any eyebrows?”

I frowned, impatient, “Considering I’m attempting to save you and everyone else’s life, yes as a matter of fact I do.”

She thought about debating me for a solid three seconds. “Fuck. Fine, hurry up.”

We followed. As we entered their headquarters, Glory announced, “The power armor was with Detective! Or General, whatever you want to call him. Says he needs to see Dez.”

Desdemona was in her usual place at her table, looking over reports. “General. Stockton told us you would be coming. He didn’t mention you’d be bringing a suit of power armor with you.”

“This is Lieutenant Colonel Danse,” I introduced him.

Danse removed his helmet, “Had I known my presence was going to incite panic, I would have left my armor at the door.”

“We’re constantly spied on by Brotherhood of Steel soldiers, you understand we’re a bit cautious when it comes to suits of armor outside,” Desdemona said.

“Caution can often be misinterpreted as hostility.”

“I think a little paranoia is justified in her line of work, Danse,” Preston said.

“I didn’t say it wasn’t.”

“The man’s sense of humor is drier than the Mojave,” Deacon said from the corner. He was wearing a white t-shirt and jeans, a pompadour wig on his head and the same sunglasses as always. “But to what do we owe the pleasure?”

Desdemona rolled her eyes, “We don’t have time—”

“You don’t have time for anything right now,” I interrupted. “Elder Maxson claims to know where you are located. The only reason he hasn’t ordered an attack is because he knows the Minutemen would immediately retaliate, because of my association with your organization. I believe he wants to strike firmly at once, and obliterate the Minutemen and Railroad as one.”

Everyone had gone silent, listening closely.

“Maxson is likely putting his soldiers in place as we speak,” I continued. “You have to evacuate. The Brotherhood only know of one location for certain, assuming they aren’t bluffing in the first place.”

“And may I ask, General,” Desdemona spoke carefully neutral, “why the Minutemen haven’t shot the Prydwen out of the sky by now?”

"There are children on board.”

Desdemona blinked. “Children.”

“They’re called Squires. It’s not their fault they were born into the Brotherhood, raised among its ranks, and brought to the Commonwealth.”

She sighed, "This is war. Collateral damage—"

“Is never acceptable," I fumed. "Do not presume to lecture me about war, madam. I have seen first hand its horror wrought on the world, both before and after the apocalypse it birthed. It should be avoided at all costs, and yet remains a tragic product of human nature." I forced myself to calm, "That’s why I need Deacon.”

“Boss?” Deacon asked, unreadable.

“I need you to get those children off that damn ship.”

For the first time, his falsely modest charm was grating, “Hey, as flattered as I am by your faith in me to infiltrate the Brotherhood base of operations—”

Danse spoke over his objection, “I still have my Brotherhood of Steel uniform back at Sanctuary. It won’t fit you perfectly, but if you move quickly and with purpose you won't be questioned. The Squires remain on a strict schedule that I don’t imagine Lancer-Captain Kells will have seen any reason to alter. They’re accustomed to following orders, and are often assigned to a soldier for the day to observe them in action. There are only a few of them, but even so the greatest difficulty will be bringing the whole group out of the airport without being questioned.”

Deacon was quiet a moment, then shrugged. “Sure, I’ve gone into ops with less.”

Danse smiled, small but approving. “I can give you any intel you need regarding the layout of the Prydwen and the airport,” he turned to Desdemona, “provided your leader approves.”

Desdemona stopped the protest that had been forming on her lips and glared. Glory spoke, “We don’t have time for this. If our position is compromised, our first priority is getting everyone out of here.”

“Glory’s right, Dez,” Deacon said, “we gotta get everyone out of here for now. But you don’t need me for that. Holmes isn’t going to fire on the Prydwen without at least trying to get those kids out of there, and right now the Minutemen are our best hope. We’ve lost all our other windows of opportunity. I’ll go in, find the kids, try to get them out, and if I can’t, I’ll blow the place to hell.”

Danse’s jaw clenched at the sound of that, but he said nothing.

“Where are you going to take them once you get them off the ship?” Desdemona asked Deacon.

“Uh… away?”

“Cambridge,” Danse said.

Deacon was alarmed, “Whoa, what?”

“Someone needs to disable the communications dish in Cambridge, or else the Brotherhood will be able to contact the Capital Wasteland for reinforcements.”

“So you want me to deliver a bunch of kidnapped Brotherhood kids into their western base and then say 'mind if I look at your dish?' Man, this mission just keeps getting better and better.”

"If it were easy, Deacon,” I said, “anyone could do it. You are one of the Railroad’s best.”

"Flattery will get you nowhere, Detective. Ok, that's a lie.” Deacon turned to Tinker Tom, “Hey Tom, before the Institute became an irradiated swimming pool, you were working on the vertibird thing, right? You ever figure out how to fly one?”

The Railroad’s inventor nodded, “In theory. Never had a chance to practice, for obvious reasons.”

“Good enough, just give me all you got. I’ll figure it out as I go. Can’t be too hard, right?”

“Vertibird thing?” I asked.

“We were going to hijack a vertibird, get onboard, set some explosives, and blow the Prydwen out of the sky,” Deacon explained. “Harebrained scheme, but I had high hopes for it. Then the Institute exploded and we suddenly had a bunch of panicked synths to look after, so Operation Red Glare was abandoned. Oh, I won’t need your old uniform, Danse, we nabbed a couple already.”

Danse's voice was strained, "I'm not a pilot, but I can at least tell you if there are any grievous errors in your… research."

Tom gestured to his desk, "Step into my office, my man."

Desdemona regained command, "Alright people, while Deacon helps the Minutemen with the Prydwen, the rest of us have to get out of here. Standard evacuation, take only what's necessary. There haven't been many patrols reported over the Boathouse, we have to hope that it hasn't been discovered. We’re going to move everyone out in waves through the day.”

She detailed the order of evacuation, and the Railroad Headquarters became a whirl of activity. Danse, Tinker Tom, and Deacon remained in tense discussion. Deacon seemed to know how much Danse hated the idea of handing his former home over to a Railroad spy, and kept somber. Preston and I helped with the preparations when we could, and tried to stay out of the way when we couldn't.

In a few hours we'll make our departure.