Chapter 16: Progress
Jon and Nick strolled back into sanctuary well past dawn. The town was just getting going for the day. The shop was coming together, and industrial ASAMs were in the process of being built, in particular a saw mill. So were stilt foundations that would wrap over top the two houses in the center of Sanctuary, Nate and Nora’s along with the neighbor that had the shop. He saw places cut into the roof that would let support posts rise up and sure up the center of the structures, the post themselves sitting in corners or along walls to not block up the open floor plans.
On the foundations more would levels rise up, filled with apartments, stores, and guard posts with a good vantage. The structure would continue a house down, and would cover the majority of the center. Walls were beginning to be built to encase it along the back of the houses, and across the street. Walling the whole town would be unwieldy at the moment, but creating shelter in the center of the town was doable. Jon imagined they would eventually wall the entire area. He didn’t think it was necessary, but it was their town. Having the covered machine gun nests he saw being framed would be useful.
Nick muttered, “The real deal.”
Jon smiled as he walked up to the main admin building. It was the house with the shop, naturally, and it was also Preston’s office. He was just going over reports from last night’s patrol. Nothing unusual, expect the giant airship announcing itself just before dawn, flashing its lights all around. No one seemed happy about being woken.
Jon made his presence known, and waved his Colonel and Sargent when they tried to stand. He took a seat, staring to feel the long hours. He lit a smoke and said, “Gentlemen. This is Detective Valentine.”
Sgt. Barr, “Heard good things, sir.”
Colonel Garvey said, “Me too. Nice to meet you.”
Nick tipped his had with his own smoke in his off hand, “Pleasures mine. I was skeptical as hell about all this, but not anymore. I was glad to hear someone made it out of Quincy.”
Jon said, “You know about UP?”
Preston grimaced, for a couple reasons, “Yeah. Trashcan brought the word. Didn’t try that shit until after we were gone.”
Nick scoffed, “My words exactly. We found the prep. Kellogg.”
Sgt. Barr said, “Anyone that’s even thought about merc work knows who Kellogg is. I pegged him immediately. One of the things we were talking about. How to respond. I guess you did...sir”
Jon had a genuinely warm smile at both his Colonel and Sgt. He said, “And there it is. You don’t need me anymore. If I die right now, the dream lives on. I am of course still keeping my rank. I’m having to much fun to give it up now.”
The room chuckled. Jon took a puff and said, “Kellogg is dead. For the crimes he committed in the past and present. Normally a tribunal, or some kind of trial, would take place. In absence for the chance to do it properly, we will do it improperly. Kellogg's crimes were self evident. He was the Institute’s main fixer for at least 60 years. Responsible for every crime they have committed in that time. If we really care about the record, Detective Valentine could list just what he knows. I don’t. I vote guilty.”
“Guilty.”
“Guilty.”
“Kellogg is posthumously sentenced to death.”
“Next. We will do it properly. We know who the director of the Institute is. He is the child stolen originally by Kellogg, Shaun. They obviously raised him as one of their own, and probably made them director for being the one that gave the DNA to complete their gen 3 synths. He is responsible for every crime they have committed since he took over. Repeat that last back to me.”
“He is responsible for every crime they have committed since he took over” they both said in unison, not yet understanding.
Jon explained, “Let the record show that ‘since’ is an important distinction in this sentencing. He is responsible for nothing before hand, and especially not the self evident crimes the Institute committed with gen 3 synths. His DNA was taken quite literally by force. Let the record also show that individual synths are not on trial here, but the Institute and it’s director. Even those who have personally committed crimes should be given all due benefit of the doubt, as the Institute manufactures them as slaves. Agreed?”
The nodded in understanding, and so did Nick. Do as I say, not as I do. His gets dirty so theirs can stay somewhat clean. Jon continued, “Once again, the crimes of Shaun, Director of the Institute are self evident. I vote guilty.”
“Guilty.”
“Guilty.”
“This tribunal hereby sentences Shaun to death.”
“The crimes of the Institute are self evident. I vote Guilty.”
“Guilty.”
“Guilty.”
“This tribunal of the SCPG hereby sentences the Institute to death.”
There was as moment of science before Jon moved on, “How is my army?”
Preston said, “We got a full platoon of volunteers now. 30 Minutemen, I’m thinking 25 to a platoon.”
Jon nodded, “Five teams of five, one marksman, one machine gunner, three riflemen. Put some kind of grenade launcher as a secondary on someone, one of the riflemen. Four platoons to a company.”
Preston said, “yes sir.”
Jon said, “Training?”
Sgt. Barr, “Practice marching in the morning, then take them out on patrol, show on the job. We don’t have a full training regimen yet.”
Jon looked to Preston, who grinned, “Starlight is clear, and has plenty of scrap around. Full lot of cars. We already got metal buildings going up, using wood when we run out. I bet we could get two companies at least in there.”
Jon nodded, “Keep the barracks dispersed. I don’t need a mini-nuke wiping out half my force in one go.”
Preston nodded, not needing told but taking no offense. He was the General for a reason. Jon said, “My guns?”
“We have a couple prototypes ready. Old Paul’s been a champ. We even got ammo production going now. With those ASAM designs you made, we can remelt lead and brass into what we need without chewing it all up in the shop to get what we need.”
Jon smiled as he nodded, “Good. I need priority on Fort Hagan. The place is clear, and it wasn't that looted, though I didn’t look real well. Also a couple gen 2 synths in the main bunker that had their primary directives rewritten, so probably don’t scrap them.”
Preston huffed in thought. Sgt Barr said, “You thinking what I’m thinking sir?”
Preston nodded, “Fort Hagan might still have some field guns.”
Jon said, “I take it the Minuteman used to have artillery?”
Preston and Barr grinned, “Hell yeah sir. It was our thing. You knew the Minutemen were kicking ass when you heard those guns go off.”
Jon grinned. That gas bag would be a nice easy target, if it came to that. Jon said, “Good. We’ll need them if the Brotherhood proves to stupid to live.”
“Fucking assholes coming in like that and waking everyone up. They think they’re heroes or something?”
Preston scoffed, “The did beat the Enclave. So maybe. You know I don’t like stuff like that sir. Our response?”
Jon said, “We rattle our sabers, but only defend ourselves if it comes to that. Personally I think of this as an opportunity.”
Preston thought a moment, “The Gunners won’t respond when we take their outposts along the North-West line. The couldn't. They would expose themselves to people they know will drop them to take their shit.”
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Jon grinned, “Exactly. I expect the Brotherhood will take a somewhat softer approach with us. Let us rattle our sabers by their reckoning, because we’re just farmers and settlers. If their Elder isn't stupid, he knows he has to win hearts and minds. The Gunners? They wouldn't hesitate with asshole mercenaries if they thought they could get an easy score in war material and tech.”
Preston said, “And eventually we’ll be ready for the Brotherhood when they become more trouble than their worth.”
Jon said, “If. It might no come to that. To that end I’m going to design a template for a 50 cal, and air defense nests. As well as rocket launchers. We’ll need them for when we take Lexington. Anything else?”
Preston said, “Dismissed Sgt. Barr.”
“Sirs.”
“I’m gonna take a walk myself.”
They both walked out and Jon eyed his second, “Preston.”
“General. I scouted out east some. With Honest Dan. He was heading back to Bunker Hill with Carla. So I went with. Old Man Stockton had a job. He’s the guy in Bunker Hill. His daughter was missing with one of his caravans.”
Jon said, “So the Minutemen volunteered in order to get Bunker Hill into the network.”
Preston nodded, “So I went with Honest Dan. We find the Caravan just down the road from Covenant. Sir, some shit went down there. Some real shit.”
Jon could see Preston’s shame, but he needed a report, “What happened, Preston.”
Preston huffed and said, “They were asking people these questions to figure our if they were synths. Honest Dan did the snooping while I walked around all nice and happy. They were kidnapping people, and taking them to their bunker across the lake. Torturing them, disassembling them...sir...there were dumpsters of body parts. Their logs said the test was 73% accurate. I mean...even if.”
“No one deserves that.”
Preston nearly broke, “We killed them all sir. Their leader tired to justify it. Say that their test was getting better. Honest Dan just opened fire. I don’t blame him, because I was about to. The town turned against us, and the town died.”
Jon said, “What you feel? It means you still have a conscious. I’ll be honest, I would have killed them and felt good about it. They deserved it. Dumpsters of body parts is summery execution and nothing else. But you feel dirty. Good. Keep feeling dirty so you know that you only do what you have to do, when you have to. Rescuing an innocent girl, and stopping the barbarism committed against how many others. If that’s the hill they chose to die on, it wasn’t your fault.”
He nodded in a moment of silence. He said, “Covenant is clear. So is Taffington close by. Plenty of water in the area. Now that we also have Weston Water in the south, those settlements, now Bunker Hill as well? Sir, we’re looking really strong if he can secure it all and still take Lexington”
Jon said, “We just need to take care of the Gunners. We need a bit more manpower.”
And his luck stuck 10 again. Sgt. Barr knocked and entered, “Sirs. You want to see this.”
Jon and Preston made their way out, and marching down the street in perfect formation was 50 vault dwellers. They all had on light combat armor sets, painted blue and stenciled white with the symbol of the Minutemen. They still had Vault security helmets, but it was better than nothing. Jon still didn’t have proper fatigues yet for his force. Behind them was a caravan strapped with vault crates.
Jon smiled as two familiar security personnel walked towards him. They both stood at attention and saluted in old US Army custom. Some of the original dwellers were obviously vets and passed things on to the security. Even if you had gotten past the 13 ton door, you would not like running into these men and women.
They were both Smiths. Not actually related, but the gene pool in the vault was limited, and names as well. Their sunglasses completed the look, a suit would seal it. One said, “Sir. Reporting for duty.”
Jon kept his smile as a couple cheered and clapped. This couldn’t be a better recruiting opportunity for Jon. He said, “Sgt. Smith, Sgt Smith. Hey Sgt. Barr!”
“Yes sir!”
“You’re a lieutenant now. Along with Tracy.”
“Yes sir.”
Jon turned back to his Sargents, “I sort of promised them commissions first, or I would name you both lieutenants right now.”
One replied, “NCO’s are the backbone of any fighting force, sir.”
Jon said, “I take it vets were in the vault.”
“Yes sir. They went security, and taught the rest. We aren’t them, but we do our best.”
Jon nodded, “Understand your formation would be broken up. It’s your responsibility to explain that to your men. I can’t have a single strike depopulating your Vault, or anywhere.”
“Understood sir.”
“That armor is pretty nice. Looks new.”
“It was one of the few templates we had sir. In hindsight, it was so security could keep order when everyone was infected. We have more in the crates, and gas masks as well. Helmets too. Enough for another formation like ours. The Overseer sends her regards.”
Jon looked impressed, to the internal joy of the Minutemen before him. He said, “She’ll certainly have mine. The helmets will eventually be replaced with one like mine, but those are excellent for now. The armor is good, and eventually we’ll have fatigues. Combat rifles are not great, will be replaced soon, but again a league above most of what we salvaged to far. So what precipitated this?”
The near sinister monotone replied, “Seeing you out there, sir.”
And that’s why he went in full uniform, not caring that anyone, in particular his enemies, saw the General leading the way. Jon said, “Colonel Garvey, I believe you have some men to square away. I will be inspecting my guns.”
“Yes sir.”
Jon strolled back down the street towards the industrial area. The waste near the APC had been stored for settlement use, and the ACP was being taken apart in place. Jon entered the shop and was happy with how it looked. Old Paul was working away at one of the benches, and was giving tips to an apprentice.
Jon said, “Old Paul, Nat.”
“Hi!”
“Howdy.”
“Seem to be settling in Nat.”
“Oh yeah. Old Paul is cool.”
“Soon as we find a press that can be salvaged, we can get your paper back up in no time.”
“See? Cool. And he’s teaching me stuff.”
Jon chuckled, “Like how to make guns, I bet.”
Old Paul said, “Yup. Figured I might as well tell someone else what I know. Especially with the tooling we got from these ASAMs? It’s kids play now.”
Nat chuckled. Jon said, “Well, I’m here for my guns. How did they turn out?”
Old Paul confidently said, “Excellent! Old Paul has all the prototypes you wanted made ready to go. Back here.”
Jon followed Old Paul to one of the side storage rooms. On a table was laid out the designs he had programmed for workshop pressing, to be finished in the machine shop. Several examples in several calibers.
Old Paul said, “Alright now, I got your chinese rifles up first. One in that normal 7-6-2 around, and another in that show stopper NATO round I think you called it.”
“7.62x51. Or 308”
“Yeah it looked the same size. It’ll poke some holes in people. Only had twenty rounds instead of thirty.”
Jon pondered, “Need the armor penetration. To many people have advanced armor. I also need simpler logistic chains.”
Old Paul agreed, “Yeah. Its your rifle round, and for them machine guns. Only need one bullet for them all.”
“Exactly.”
“Next up we got your service rifles, five five, and 308. Again thirty and twenty, and don’t expect me to be able to find redwood like yours.”
They both had the same type of short 2X magnification scope on his carry handle like he had. The AKM had a bracket for mounting with a scopes as well, and was a rail system. Old Paul continued, “Next is a classic, the M14. This one was the easiest to make.”
Jon just wanted a personal M14, “It has it’s own problems, like in humidity or rain. I mostly wanted to see it. With automation we should be able to make enough of any of them.”
“Lastly for the rifles, we got your FAL, though most know it as an R91. Usually chambered in five five, and uses polymer more than others.”
Jon was seriously considering giving the dog it’s day. Polymer would be used on all his weapons once he cracked a method for making bio-polymer. Old Paul said, “Then you got your machine guns. An M60, PKM, M240, MG3, all modified for power armor.”
Jon took a moment to think about it. The forward bolt assist sold it, “I guess I’m back to the service rifles. Make the show stoppers. I’ll be giving you better designs. As for the machine guns, I’ll also make a new design, based mostly off the Armalite pattern. Just a belt fed upper.”
“Still keep most of our tooling good for both guns. Could do the same thing with the other, but the handmade pattern felt off balance when you shot.”
Jon nodded, “That, and I like the button”
Old Paul chuckled, “Well, Old Paul will start production. The M2 musket is also coming along. With all those parts we picked up from the synth fellas we got plenty to go around. About two of ours out of one of there in terms of parts. The ASAM actually helped to analisize or whatever it does, get the most scrap out of em.”
Jon gasped, “A do-hicky, telling Old Paul how to junk?”
“Ha! Guess the world really has come to an end youngin.”
Jon said, “Thanks Old Paul. I’ll leave you be.”
Jon walked out and made his way to the mess. He was hungry, but also had to break the news to Codsworth. He walked it and the main living room was filled with tables, boots, and chairs. The car park had become a patio, and there was more seating out back. Codsworth was actually teaching Curie how to cook. Jon smiled, then grimaced.
“Hey Codsworth.”
“General Singh! Marvelous to see you again sir!”
“Can we talk?”
“Of course sir, the pantry room is sufficiently private.”
Jon walked back with Codsworth in the lead. They entered the room with shelves and decently filled with stock. Jon closed the door and said, “I found the murder. Kellogg. He’s dead.”
Codsworth said, “That’s wonderful, sir. But the way you said it sounds like it isn't all good news. Did you find out what happened to young Shaun?”
“He’s the director of the institute.”
Jon could almost see the steam come off Codsworth as he attempted to process it. Codsworth said, “I don’t want to believe it, sir, but you wouldn't just lie to me. Did he lie?”
Jon shook his head, “Unless he was that good. He was dying and had no reason to lie anyway. They took Shaun for his DNA”
Codsworth spat, “For their synths.”
Jon nodded, “Yeah. So they raise him as one of their own, and crown the man that gave them their magnum opus when he’s able to be crowned. It tracks.”
Codsworth simply processed for a moment in silence, “The family was doomed from the start. I still remember changing his diapers all those years ago. And now he’s responsible for every crime.”
Jon huffed, “We sentenced him to death. A kangaroo court,”
“But at least it’s a court, sir. I understand. I-I-I think I need some time off. Curie is learning fast, and I have hands now. I need to process alone for a bit.”
Jon said, “Just not to far away. You've been doing good Codsworth. You’re a pretty big part of this community from what I’ve seen.”
Codsworth glumly said, “Wouldn't think of it sir. Just to the vault for a few hours. Thank you, sir. For at least finding the man that started this whole tragedy.”
Jon gave him a sympathetic look and left him be. He quickly ate some stew, with rad-stag today. He walked back out of the mess, and Jon could see a few more new volunteers milling outside Preston’s HQ. One of his Sargents was corralling them into standing straight and in formation. He was well on his way to a full company now.
Jon walked back out of the town, and towards his station. A two man patrol was just coming back and he gave them a smile and wave, which they returned. He needed some sleep. He walked into the station, and smelled Piper before he heard her. When he entered his room, she was sprawled on the bed in nothing but one of Jon’s shirts. Her face was buried in one of his skinners, and her hand was buried in her folds.
She was shocked, nearly bashful, when Jon quietly stepped in. She soon met his smile though. Jon stripped his gear, and climbed in with her.