After Credits
Jon stood on the deck of the USS Constitution. Just before he had finished with a submarine Captain suck in the bay, marooned for 211 years, and got work going to repair his ship. As it turned out, China did fire first. Captain Zao had been the one to attack the Commonwealth. Because of credible intelligence of imminent biological weapon attacks targeting the five Chinese ethnicities. That intel was no doubt planted by the Enclave to trigger just such a reaction. If it wasn't, if it was credible, they deserved to have MAD dumped on their head. If it was a Chinese government lie, they just fired because they lost the war they started, then it didn’t much matter anyway, anymore, anyhow.
He assured the Captain that the SCPG didn’t have a quarrel with him, and promised to help if only he trusted the fellow foreigner in foreign land. Zao took the leap, and with a handshake peace was made with whatever was left of China. His sub would be repaired enough to get it going, then put in dock to be repaired further. The only price was letting the SCPG analyze the craft, a requirement for repairing it. Zao only wanted to see his ship, home, and muse to brought back to her full glory. He didn’t much care for keeping the secrets of a long ended war. He added the stipulation that the terrible weapons still in his hold be removed and dismantled. The SCPG always needed more material for its cores and plants, so Jon readily accepted.
Sturgis was put on the job. And Jon knew he would handle it. His attention was on other matters now, like the flagship of the navy being removed from it’s own marooning. Ironsides said, “I often lose myself in thought with this vantage sir. It’s a marvelous sight, but the sea is my mistress.”
Jon smirked, “And you’ll feel her embrace once again. No crazy stunts this time. I want you to actually make it to dry dock.”
Ironsides chuckled, “The very picture of caution sir. She will get there, and no rotten bank will impede us on this flight!”
The bow and stern of the ship were reinforced, and birds were on the flight in to cable them and lift the ship to it’s destination, the dry docks near the Castle. Piper walked to him as he looked to them, and put her hand on his arm.
She said, “Probably should get going blue. They got this, and we have that other thing to get to today.”
Jon looked deep into her eyes. While she wasn't expecting the moment like that, she met it all the same. She was in her typical outfit, though newer and not as worn, and Jon was in the General’s uniform, frill hat and all.
Jon took her hand, and Placed upon her finger a ring he had pressed out when she wasn't looking. He had plenty of gold for it. He said, “Captain, would you marry us before we go?”
Piper was rolling her bottom lip between her teeth and breathing deep. Ironsides said, “Of course sir! It was been so very long since I have done so. Do you, Piper, take-”
“Yes.” She said without hesitation.
“Yes” Jon said, preempting the next question.
Ironsides beamed as the birds closed in, and he turned his vocals to maximum volume, “Then by the power vested in me by the most ancient laws of the sea, I pronounce you husband and wife!”
Jon picked her up and they both kissed deeply as the wind picked up. They both put their hands to their hats to keep them from flying away. One more bird pulled up and parked its open bay as close as the pilot could get without knocking the rotors against the masts. The rigging and sails had all been taken down and removed in preparation for the operation. All it would take was one stray strand of something to cause catastrophe. Jon took a running start with Piper still in his arm, and leapt from the deck and into the bay of the bird. The other door was closed to prevent and overshoot, but he didn’t overshoot.
Piper laughed with joy as they landed and took their seats next to each other. Joker said, “Get a room you two, and don’t even try telling me to punch it boss.”
The bird rocked away some, and then shot away towards it’s next target. While the capital was in Lexington, Goodneighbor had the honor of hosting the signing of the constitution. Hancock’s office and the center of Goodneighbor was the Old Statehouse, where discussion of many matters relating to the future republic and revolution had taken place. While back then it wasn't the focal point as Philadelphia was for hosting the continental congress, Boston was the birthplace of the revolution and today the Old Statehouse would get it’s proper due.
It wasn’t long for Joker to arrive at the destination. He dropped down in the main drag connecting Fenway Park and Goodneighbor. Jon once again took Piper into his arms and jumped the moderate distance down. He bent his knees some to absorb the shock, and put his wife down as the bird flew away. The walked hand in hand and Jon was pleased with what he saw all around.
First and foremost the patrol on the road, which he waved off and away, to stay on their task. He wouldn't be their General for much longer anyway. Next he saw the lack of rubble around. Most of the building were still ruined and dilapidated, some marked to be condemned even, but the streets were picked up, the stray debris cleaned and recycled, the cars removed and reprocessed into something useful, the effort to reclaim Boston was well underway.
They walked into the alley entrance of Goodneighbor. People still trusted their walls, and likely never would take them down, and wall off any neighborhood they move into as well. Order had came around to the Commonwealth, but it wasn't much, and the wasteland could still be a dangerous place in many ways. He walked in and the town was also spic and span, the people spic and span, he didn’t see one chem being traded, or dirty deal being made, not one piece of litter, or one unhappy face even. Hancock had done some flexing, that much was obvious.
Goodneighbor was never actually that dirty, Hancock always demanding the games kept somewhat respectable and off the main streets, but any dirt there was had been wiped away for Goodneighbor’s big moment. Either though bribery, or sense of patriotism, or sense of opportunity, the underbelly of the place stayed in the shadows. There could be no utopia without crime, Jon thought as he entered the Statehouse in a back way. The inside was clean as well, and felt unlived in as Jon knew Hancock lived. He smiled as he walked though the lower hall, and into the ancient meeting chamber.
The assembled crowed began their cheers and applause and never stopped as Jon slowing walked down the isle shaking hands and sharing a couple words. The first was Codsworth and Curie.
He said, “Congratulations on your marriage.”
Curie perked up, “Judging by the rings on your fingers, we should say the same!”
Jon chucked. Codsworth said, “Indeed sir. Our only regret is that we can’t have children of our own due to Institute meddling. Speaking of sir, I never thanked you for letting me bury young Shaun with his parents, even after the things he did. Thank you, General.”
Jon nodded, “No one should be that petty to deny something like that. Thanks for the work you both put in.”
Piper said, “I’m gonna hang back blue. This is all you, after all”
He smiled as he took a couple more steps, shook a couple more hands, and ran into Nick valentine, a biological Synth now, with his new wife Ellie beside him. They could have Children together, Jon thought.
“Looking good Nick, beautiful as always Ellie.”
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She smiled, and Nick took Jon’s hand, “We got that bastard, just so you know. We haven't spoken in a while.”
Jon lit up. Winters was probably always the biggest threat out their to his new nation state, “That’s great Nick. I’m So-”
Nick waved Jon off, “General. Jon. I don’t wanna to hear a single word about that. You sent the entire goddamned CPD in your place. It was three adults and a child, but the thought counts I assure you.”
Jon laughed as he took more steps though the parted crowd and shook more hands. His next small conversation was with Hancock himself. The Mayor was all smiles and nearly all political. He said, “General. Good you see you my man.”
Jon said, “Mayor Hancock. Thanks for cleaning up some. You should know, the Director’s last words were ‘junkie thug. Typical of the surface world.’”
Hancock howled for a moment before he met Jon’s eye again. There was sadness there not betrayed by Hancock's overall mirth. He asked, “You really gave him my regards?”
“You asked me too.”
“Yeah but that was just some bad ass thing to say at the time. Me pretending I had control over situations I did not control. Thank my man. Thanks. It’s some closure actually, knowing that bastards last thought were of little old me. That fuck stole my brother.”
“And no one steals from Hancock, at least according to no-nose.”
Hancock's smile was evil again as Jon walked further though the crowd. The applause had gone on long enough, and they would not stop until he got front and center, so he powered though and made it there.
On a table was the document itself, and the main signatories, and around it was several boxes of hemp paper. Every settlement had been visited, the constitution read, and those supporting it making their mark or giving their signatures. Fenway park was not asked what they thought, but few if any didn’t sign the papers. It was a referendum of sorts, and every person that had inked their names or marks became the founding fathers, mothers, and mutants of a new republic.
On the document itself were the leaders of settlements, and the ministers he had appointed to the provisional governments, and the highest ranking officers of the Minutemen. The government was three branches, a proportional senate, an executive president, and an independent judiciary. It was modeled on the one that came before it, but with amendments and changes to fix the flaws of it. For starters, it’s electoral system was not designated to protect the power of slavers.
One final signature was needed to truly ratify it. After all, the Commonwealth was still under the jurisdiction of a military dictator. With his signature, the SCPG would be abolished, the New England Republic would be born, and Jon would be one of the few people in all of history to give up power for the good of the people. Cincinnatus, Washington, Noonien-Singh he would be.
He turned to address the now silent crowd. In the front row were his officers, and Civilian Minister. Off to the side was Maxson and a squad observing the proceedings, and guarding a hardened display case that held what looked like the original American constitution they had brought to the affair.
He said, “What I have given you, what you have worked for yourselves, is a republic, if you can keep it. It is a society that your children, and their children, may grow up in and never know the horror of war, if you can nurture and sustain it. It is the keys to your salvation, or your destruction, and it is only by what you do that determines what the outcome is. In this constitution are the solutions to several flaws that plagued republics before it. There is the abolition of formal political factions, organizations that will only represent themselves and not the people this government is supposed to serve. There is the abolition of gerrymandering, the practice of politicians choosing their voters. The abolition of large financial donations to electoral campaigns, bribes in everything but name. There are also terms, that limit the power and influence that any one person can mass by factors of time. But in this constitution is the ability to change, to grow, to mold itself to the needs of those that live long after this day. Unsavory persons or classes, in particular arms industries of sufficient size, may try to abuse this feature of your republic. To create the situations in which changing these things seems to be of prudence and pertinence. The solutions to you problems that they perhaps caused. Several of these things are my final warnings to you, shackles which initially bind you. However, that is not to say I am perfect, that I am always right. It is now up to you, not me, to decided what this republic is or should be. What this constitution should be. The laws should be. It will one day be up to your children. Whether it succeeds or fails, whether your children have a better life than you had, is now your prerogative. With my signature I hereby resign as General of the Minutemen, and Military Governor of the SCPG. It is my heartfelt recommendation that Colonel Preston Garvey, hero of Quincy and half a hundred other places, be nominated by the executive, and approved by congressional authority to to lead your military.”
Jon picked up the quill used for the occasion and dipped it in the ink. He smiled as he put his name at the spot above all others reserved for him. His inked his signature bigger than Hancock’s just below that place. The first New England Congress began their revelry again.
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Colonel Hadrian Autumn didn’t know what the fuck he was thinking. Trying to rebel against the Government? The Enclave? What got into his head? Years and years, much to many, of being fed one line of propaganda, and doing the truth on another hand. How many goddamned children had they butchered for it! Americans!No more! He cried to his people. Never again! They returned, refusing to send one more bird in the air unless it was directed at the homicidal AI running the Inner Ring.
That got them in a lot of hot water. Most enclave apparently liked killing the muties and literally feeding their children to the dogs. Orders from Interior they said. That’s what did them in. they took him off bird duty since he was such a good officer, and put him on ground duty. Orders from Interior. It was never that real to him until he saw the rules of engagement up close. He always had the high ground, and didn’t look to close or hard. You didn’t do that if you wanted to get ahead, and follow in the family footsteps of being an exemplary soldier and officer. Why would Interior do that? Couldn’t it predict he would crack and do something like this? That bastard, it did.
He was getting shot at by former comrades because he was tricked into it. He and his force, the guards of the bird hangers, pilots that didn’t get in their birds fast enough to get shot down, and any civilians around that could hold a weapon and decided they would fight or die against Enclave tyranny. All the enemies of the AI pretender in on place to kill.
Goddamn them, Colonel Hadrian Autumn, American Patriot and Officer of the United Fucking States Air force would make them bleed, and water that faithful tree of liberty with their blood and his. The men fighting and dying around him as they fought their retreat though the ruined streets, closer and closer to their base on the edge of Lake Michigan, would water it as well. He wished it wouldn't cost them. That he could die and they could live, but that wasn't his reality.
He was a fly boy with his wings clipped and fighting a desperate action on the ground. Most of them were. At least it was a fight. So many people still alive joined up as soon as the rumor of Free American Forces started that he had real forces. It took them a month to dig them out, even with their air support and his early lack thereof. It took them lives that would set back some whatever plan that hunk of junk was doing.
Autumn laid down more fire with his laser rifle while a squad around him fell back more. They would then fire from new positions, and he would retreat. The base he commanded was also a depot, so he at least never lacked for weapons and ammo that hurt his enemies. Then some fire would return from the other side, tired of being suppressed, and they would duck while the Enclave moved up. At least there was plenty of cover to be had in the windy city.
The line about rebuilding America as just that. The Inner Ring was nice, and bases were nice, but most of the city was still rotting, and decayed. It’s what probably made the AI decided to spark a rebellion. There were too many holes to hide in to do anything but nuke the whats left of the city flat, and that wasn't a possibility even for that crazy toaster.
He was always cool under fire, and only sighed dejectedly as another of the squad around him fell, and not back, and the final defensive line was nearly up his ass. Power armor was beginning to swarm in heavier numbers, clearly tired of playing with their food now. His radio shot a bust of static in between his thoughts. He thought he heard something about the FAF.
It cracked again, but he still couldn’t understand it. His last stand was taking place in a fierce rad storm, and the reason they were still holding on at all. He thought he heard buzzing in the distance, almost like a bird.
Then he saw them in a flash of rad lighting, their forms previously concealed. Prop driven aircraft in the skies over Chicago by the hundreds. Rotary driven aircraft like he had never seen before. Ones obviously to carry men, others to carry weapons to shoot. On the bay in another flash he couldn’t believe his eyes. Arrayed were the masts of ten angry ships of rope and sail. He could just make out some modernization made to the designs from the distance. The sky darkened once again, and they were seen no more by the Colonel.
The radio cleared up now, “NATO task force Athena calling any Free American Forces, do you read FAF?”
He ducked his head under the fire, almost getting clipped in wonderment, pulse racing now, eyes darting. What the hell did he just hear. What in God’s Green America did he see? He didn’t have the time for a repeat, to look again, “Colonel Autumn to Athena, who the hell are you?”
The voice gave only three words in reply, “The good guys.”
The bombing runs and landings started not a moment later.