Chapter 21: Hub of The Problem

Jon and Nick were walking down the road towards the meet. They passed the Vault-Tech HQ and cleared the immediate area around it. There were only two super mutants and a dog walking in the alley near it. It would by no means keep it clear when they left, but it would do for the moment.

They walked out on the street running down the river line and Nick said, “Isn’t it funny no ones seen the Shroud and the General in the same room together?”

Jon rumbled with a chuckle, “Now I got to fucking set that up somehow.”

“Ironsides would make a convincing shroud.”

Jon burst in laughter that carried down the drag, “Tis, I! The Silver Shroud you rascal!”

A super mutant at the pedestrian overpass down took notice and replied with some pot shots. He simply snapped shots with his show stopper at the couple he had seen so far. He tested his hypothesis, and fired a crit into the head of the super mutant not hitting much at the range with a slapped together pipe banger.

The Grim Reaper did not make it’s presence known. Only the Shroud had that boon. Jon said, “Some weird shit in these wastes man.”

Nick lit a smoke, “You know it partner. Think I see Jake out there a little ways from the theater, Yeah, in a different get up.”

Jon clocked him, and he was wearing the current Minutemen uniform. Salvaged fatigues and light combat armor. His armor was the standard issue green however. And it looked old. Jon reckoned it was salvaged from Hagan, or any other military site he cleared.

He walked up to a warm smile and tip of his helmet. It was an M1 steel, and looked brand new. It was clear Preston had picked a design. They couldn’t get modern helmets like theirs going, but they could use a tried and tested pattern made with readily available scrap, shop processing, ASAM tooling and instructions, brahmin leather. They could put ballistic weave coverings over the shell easily once they got that production going. They could make ballistic weave plate carriers, and make modern plates in local material spec.

Jake smiled as he saw Jon inspecting and thinking. It was in a flash, but Jake was usually quick on the draw. He nodded, “Slick. Nick.”

“Jake.”

“Cowpoke. Hell of stunt with that bird. Damn good timing too.” Jon greeted with a smile.

Jake returned a cocky grin, “Thanks slick. When It became clear the bird was gonna be more than a hobby project, we put every bit of spare time we had into it with the parts you tagged. Between that and the fort, we only got some sleep. I take it you wanted to show off to the Brotherhood. How’d the meeting go?”

Jon said, “Well. We settled on some initial borders, a couple loose agreements, overall we are peacefully coexisting, and mutually cooperating. You were right though, they will straight up raid you if you let them and don’t have the strength to stop them. Two of their knights were trying to take food from Graygarden, no thought at all about the people they fed, because they didn’t even read their commander’s reports. Just take from the bots because that’s what they’re made for.”

Jake clicked his tongue, “Well, I don’t suppose they liked running into you, and it probably gave you a bit of an upper hand when you met Maxson.”

Jon shrugged, “Basically. I made a bunch of demands, offered a bit in return to keep it fair, but they dance to my tune in my Commonwealth. They also had to listen to Nick’s sob story, so hopefully I’m not forced to take punitive action in the near future.”

Nick smiled as he puffed his smoke. Jon decided to light one himself and offered one to Jake. Jake said, “If anyone can take em back to what Lyons did it’s probably you slick. They are rebuilding the Capital, helping people out, but you dance to their tune in their stretch of the waste, if you catch my drift.”

Jon puffed, “Yeah. Hardliner fascist dictatorships all look the same. At what cost are you streets supposedly safe, and your trains on time. Doesn’t matter how much you dress it up. So, if they’re making M1’s then it’s because they need them, and out of vault helmets. How many.”

Jake answered after his own puff, “150ish last I knew. Left yesterday and stayed the night at a place called Hangman’s Alley, near DC. Had to clear out some friendly raiders, but I tagged the place Minutemen with some chalk.”

Jon grinned, “Outstanding, as always. A lot of troops in a short time. The fort?”

Jake said, “Yup. They were getting a couple a day at least, and a couple larger groups as well. A side note relating to the fort, you’ll never believe who showed up in those recruits, slick.”

Jon’s eyebrow rose before Jake continued, “Mike Daley, from the holotape and armor. Ghoul, of course.”

Jon smiled, “Incredible. She did calculate a 1% margin of error.”

Jake nodded, “He heard rumors about us, Concorde in particular.”

Jon reasoned, “That’s the last place he left his armor, so he make’s his way there. Stumbles on Fort Starlight, recognizes it immediately for what it is, and, what, enlists on the spot?”

Jake chucked, “Slick, just pick that ball up and throw it as far as you can. Only then will you not be on it. The fort is coming along, and Daley has been a big help with his advice. He had a lot of tips for the plots in the ASAMs, so I spent some time working with him. We got production and maintenance facilities up first thing, including for those other templates you cooked up. Gotta say, those were some sleek and efficient designs. A third of the fucking weight in materials of anything we had.”

Jon grinned, “You can thank Toyota and Honda for those, with a few modifications by me to fit the fusion cores. Without needing a full plant because we aren't trying to move a 16 ton rocket down broken roads, you can cut away a lot of fat. I guarantee they wouldn't have as made much money per unit making anything small, so bigger was always better from a business standpoint. Patented coolant replacing gas is just value added at that point. Free money.I saw it where I’m from. Those foreign companies I mentioned were breaking it, in part with those designs that sold like fire in America over bigger domestic brands.”

Jake replied, “All they made was big, with like one crappy looking exception, and the way the people were propagandized with their consumption culture, they were practically forced to buy big. We didn’t have any foreign companies that could sell here. Hell, they probably called anyone that asked for something different a commie.”

Jon finished the analysis of the pre-war state of affairs, “I can confirm that for a fact. I spoke to a man that said they were coming after him for anti-war and anti-consumptionist views. Then the bombs drop and he turns into a Ghoul.”

Jake scoffed, “Lucky or unlucky. They put commies and Chinese in FEV camps according to Brotherhood history, but just after the war was not a fun time to be livin in, especially for a Ghoul.”

Jon said, “My words and thoughts exactly. He didn’t know one way or the other. I certainly don’t.”

Nick cut in, enjoying the casual and accurate analysis but having to get a word, “Bang on the money, both of you. I hear a bird coming in, you mind if I scram partner? It’s gonna turn into a real crowd, and I should probably see Ellie, let her know I’m okay and set up for a move.”

Jon smirked. Nick had his girl, and Nick had his own. If a human brain scan could be downloaded into a mechanical Synth, then could it be downloaded into an organic Synth as well? A sense of science fiction, now fact for him, said yes. He wasn't sure though, and probably wouldn't know until he took the Institute.

That would be another problem he would have to navigate. They’ll want to blow it up like the role-playing primitives they are. There were any number of things beneficial to the Commonwealth, and the Brotherhood, and it was paramount that it be preserved. It was paramount the victims living under the tyranny of the Director, synth or not, be rescued and not murdered as well. There were obviously dissidents in the ranks, or the Railroad wouldn’t even be able to operate.

He said, “Yeah, sure. Thanks for having my back partner. We’ll walk the beat once again. You know, we’ve scrapped enough Synths you could probably get some new digs.”

Nick scoffed as he took Jon’s offered hand with his bony mechanical one, “Already had a word about that. Keeping the mug, and a hole here or there to stash stuff in. See you around, General. Jake.”

Jake nodded and the Detective walked back into the wastes alone once more. It was not the first time, and wouldn't be the last. Jake said as the waterbird was closing in and positioning for a drop on the beach, “You sure inviting the Brotherhood is wise?”

Gladius was dropping, with one repelling down. Jon said while they still had some cover for their conversation, “Maybe. They’ll find out eventually, and want want we have. Might was well bring them in early as a show of good faith. You got to give to get sometimes. If nothing else, no one will have an advantage. No arms race so to speak.”

The bird was flying away as Jake nodded. Gladius was walking up, and they hadn't taken on any reinforcements. How could they? No one else would understand them. Danse and Reese were in T-60, and Haylen was in brotherhood fatigues and combat armor with her standard patrol cap. She had an R91 in her hands, and an oversized ruck that she carried with ease. There heads were on swivels as they looked around. The people bunking down in the theater look on, but made no move to interfere with the group just down the way from them.

When they finally walked up, Jon began the social engineering, “Paladin Danse, Knight Reese, Scribe Haylen, this is Jake Evans. He’s my Civilian Minister, and the Commonwealth’s foremost expert in ASAM technology.”

“Minister.”

“Minister.”

It was easy to manipulate their culture to desirable outcomes. If they took it seriously enough to let a Synth speak, then they took it seriously enough to recognize the civilian leader of a government, however subservient to the will of the military it was. His government was legitimate. It was clawing it’s way out of the ruins of the old world. But he needed to make it look legitimate before it was actually legitimate though a constitution and elections, to make it something worth working with in the first place. That meant official title, and perhaps he could pawn off the duties he should be doing, delegating like a good officer does. He was already doing it. Then once he forced cooperation between the two, it would make it that much harder for Maxson to pull the trigger, and especially for him to order his men to do the same on their friends. Their comrades. With bonds forged in blood.

The Brotherhood will die for the Minutemen. Minutemen will die for the Brotherhood. One day, they will die for synths. Jon would give them a choice. He knew there would be a point in which he has to call upon them. That day, they will have to choose as their friends and allies cry out for help. Have they no courage? Will they stand and watch as others die on the line they refuse to take? He would make them choose, how he knew Lyons did just from what he knew of the man. The Brotherhood, or their honor. That will be the moment he has broken them as a people. When they accept his viewpoints as superior, when the first one dies for his ideology, he will have conquered them.

Haylen’s greeting was more cheery. She walked up with an open hand and a smile, “Pleasure to meet you, Minister Evans. Just Haylen is fine.”

Jake returned the smile, and because he caught the play quick. He spent enough time in the Capital for a long rest from the longer journey to know how seriously the Brotherhood took their titles and such. He was happy for the spot promotion. He liked it.

Jon saw the same spark in Jake’s eye that he saw in Hancock. That would be a race. The first one probably. Jake said, “Just call me Jake, fellas. Minister Evans was actually my father. Was his given name in fact, and people called him the Plant Minister when he ran the local watering station.”

Haylen chucked, and even Danse and Reese huffed in amusement. She said, “Like Professor, from DC.”

Jon smirked at the free intel, “Which one, Scara or Duff?”

She said, “Scara.”

Jon scoffed. Robotics expert. Liberty Prime. He would need a response to that, but he didn’t know what yet. Artillery at the castle aimed right up there asses for the moment it twitches to life. He was ashamed to admit, so he never would, that he had a vivid nightmares after playing an obscure game from Japan.

The psychological roller coaster was about being a rookie and facing down a walking death mobile strapped with nukes. For some reason the dream took him to Alaska, insertion by sub on a one man SVD like a torpedo, weapons an equipment OSP. A hind piloted by his twin shot down two f-22’s in a blizzard, somehow, a physic operative borrowed into his mind, a cyborg ninja, an otaku genius, cowboy torturer, a shaman bigger than him by half, sexual tensions with a Kurdish sniper, more with another rookie up shits creek, that died before he could save her atop his quarry and reason for being there. A metal gear, him being tricked into giving the code to activate it in the first place.

Every twist and turn, every time he killed in the dream, it triggered physiological responses, so much so that he had to undergo evaluations as his screams were noticed by others in the dorm. He would not let a real one prowl freely on his lands. He was Boss here in thisOuter Heaven.

He said, “I would have called Duff.”

She said, “Right? Well these two get ornery when I chit chat, so, we’re raiding the Vault Tech HQ?”

Jon nodded, “Just a couple blocks down. I passed by it coming from Goodneighbor. Didn't go in, but a couple super mutants hanging around were crossed, and it was clear in the immediate area as of 20-30 minutes ago.”

Danse said, “That means nothing in the Commonwealth, but you don’t need to be told that. The reconnoiter is appreciated. I’ll take point. My orders include keeping and your guests out of danger.”

Jon smirked in response.

So did Jake, “So you can get a look see first, huh?

Danse simple shrugged, and Jon said, “Alright, lets move out.”

Danse led the way, Jon was behind him, then Jake, Haylen, and Reese. They got off the coast and back onto the city street. The walk down was quiet, only the normal tempo of Boston a distance away. They turned at the intersection towards the Vault-Tech HQ and a couple more super mutants here milling near where their last patrol died. It was obvious they were preforming some kind of an investigation as they died. Danse opened fire, and Jon target the other with a crit to the head to guarantee a quick kill.

They were grouping up at the door and Jon said, “They’re coordinated some how. They were looking for their patrol, and who or what killed them. The fact it was so soon means they were on a timetable and didn’t report back.”

Danse said, “I concur. Typically larger groups have singe leaders, and control more than their immediate area. The largest concentration we have observed is at Trinity Tower. I expect any kind of Commonwealth boss resides there.”

Jake said, “Bigger is always better, slick, and Trinity is about as big as they come for digs.”

Haylen said, “Oftentimes behemoths lead tribes, but just as often it’s a super mutant a little smarter than the rest. They’re more dangerous than even the big guys, if the big guys take their orders.”

Jon nodded, and decided to keep prodding, “I read a note from a dead one. He wanted to make a friend. It was a Yoa guai, so he got tore apart.”

Jon let the chuckles go a second, “But it proved to me something still human is in there. If I can avoid killing every single one, I will. To that end I expect I’ll have to take a stroll to Trinity Tower and send a message.”

Danse simply scoffed and shook his head, as did Haylen. Reese said, “It’s your funeral General.”

Jon smiled and Jake said, “Slick, normally I’d say I want to be there for that, but I think I’ll sit that one out.”

Jon snicked, “If I died, it would be one hell of a blaze. I’d go supernova for that. The NCR would hear about the fucking idiot that simply walked into Trinity Tower.”

The laugh came and went, and Jon took some sips of water before giving the order, “Alright, lets breech.”

There was no grand entrance to the HQ, as there weren’t on other high rises as well. A door simply lead to the reception and lobby area. Power armor makes a statement, and the HQ’s nest of ferals were awoken. They crawled from the reception desk, came from the hall’s leading deeper in, but they didn’t stand a chance against the party.

Danse took the ones coming from the hall, while Jon was tagging the ones from the desk as he moved towards it. Jake took a spot beside dance, then Haylen, then Reese. Once Jon had cleared his targets he turned hid gun toward the main direction of attack and joined the combined energy and ballistics fire. A couple tried to be crafty and climb over the desk instead of entering the lobby, and Jon shifted his aim to put them down.

It was over in not that long, about three dozen ghouls dead in a near pile. They waited a couple moments more to see if there were any stragglers. Jon heard none and called, “Clear.”

“Clear.”

“Clear.”

“Clear.”

“Clear. All clear. Outstanding work.” Danse called last though his helmets modulation.

Jon reloaded a fresh mag and said, “I concur. One of the terminals here is good. Jake, Haylen?”

Danse shifted slightly at his people take orders from a foreign General, but it was the exact one he would have gave, and his orders included taking some liberty with the Chains to facilitate positive relations. Jon’s small smirk as they both acknowledged and proceeded though to behind the reception desk told Danse everything. He truly was playing with the Brotherhood, and there wasn't anything they could do about it without nearly the entire Commonwealth becoming their enemies the moment they do.

It would be like clearing the Capital all over again, far from their base of power this time. He was like a Deathclaw playing with his food, to Danse. Perhaps his sympathies for mutants could be explained by the fact that he is one. A super mutant, at least by definition now that FEV and radiation had a super soldier to do its work with.

He wondered how much was engineering, and FEV. Things he spoke of made little sense unless one considered the wild notion that he was from a different timeline like out of a comic. It was thrown out by younger Scribe in a session attended by Gladius, Maxson, and some Scribe-Analysts. If the Pre-war could already conceive people like him, they wouldn't have needed FEV, or other programs. They would just make armies of him. But if a different group from a different Earth made him, then it would make sense, as would the war he spoke of that the Brotherhood had no record matching.

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They had collected much history during their founding, and found even more as the years went on. It was the primary focus of the order before even technology for the first few years. Any tech they found was along the way of trying to preserve history before it was lost or degraded away. They would know of a war led by genetic augments. It would easily be included in the escalating conflicts that lead to the Great War, that the most recent history tomes took as a given for happening at some point.

Jake and Haylen got back to the terminal. She said, “Oh good. Basic reception terminal, no security. Easy.”

She logged in and Jake said, “Bingo. The Ron doesn’t miss.”

Haylen giggled, “That’s another guy that’s bonkers. But hey, whatever gets you by. Here’s records about receiving ASAM equipment. Employee records.”

Jake focused in on one name, “Magneson.”

Jon said, “From that note we found at Olivia asking to reposition the dish. We’re looking for what’s called a com hub. Its supposed to allow mass communications and updates to ASAM firmware and programming. We already found one actually at the sat station.”

Jake added, “Otherwise you have to reprogram them one by one with a configuration holotape. The one we have is shot. If I start it up, it would destroy what’s left.”

Haylen said, “And you’re hoping they have an example here, or at least parts for one.”

Jake said, “You got it, Miss Haylen. We don’t know for sure, but this log makes me confident. They were partnered up on this project, so if they got bulk equipment deliveries,”

“Then it was probably a com hub. That sounds like it would be a bulky piece of equipment. And even if it isn't, it might be a bunch of ASAMs.” Haylen finished with a smile. That would strain his marriage, Jon thought, but so does taking your child far away even if you understand and accept the why of it.

Reese said, “Elevator over there. Looks like it needs a key card. It’s probably on one of the ferals.”

Jon volunteered, “Paladin, I recommend you escort the Scribe and Minister though the upper levels. Knight Reese can stand watch here, and I’ll dig though these corpses. It may be on one of the ones we already killed.”

Danse thought a moment. At least he recommend this time, “A sound plan. Lets move, I’ll take point.”

Reese took a post with full view of the reception area, and Jon. His back would not be turned to him. But Jon didn’t care about that. He happily went to work digging though the pockets of the ferals as the three proceeded though the rest of the building. It took a few minutes, but eventually he made it though the pile, finding random bits but no cards.

He was done and used some water from his canteen to rinse off his hands before lighting a smoke while he waited. Reese said, “No card?”

Jon shook his head, “Just a bunch of pens, pencils, pocket protectors, pre-war scratch. Some jewelry and watches as well.”

Reese said, “Some good stuff, nothing interesting though. You know what the cash is for right?”

Jon smirked, “I use three sea shells.”

He never saw the look of bewilderment trying to figure out how that work. Jon kept his smirk as they continued the light watch in silence. Conveniently, the desk he was sitting on had some ashtrays and he was polite enough to the dead to use them. He doubted a reception lady knew the score. This was just a job for her and most of the others. With the prices of things he saw, $100 for a gallon of coolant, $30 for a mag at minimum, the government adjacent job was probably the best one to have.

The inflation was no doubt driven by printing to pay to the massive costs that would represent vault construction, and employees of their shell company would be the first to take from that pile. If they had any sense at all they knew they would have to make sure their workers could keep up with that inflation to keep them loyal. Why would any hide your secrets if they couldn’t even eat.

The trio came back into the lobby area, with Danse again in the lead. Jon said, “Anything good?”

“Affirmative.”

Jake said, “Magneson had one large pair on him, slick. They claimed a partnership, but Vault-Tech was stealing ASAM technology, using Magneson to do it and try to make a rival product.”

Jon reasoned for a moment, “Lead Rob-Co engineer before making the switch?”

Jake smiled, “On it again. Just shoot that ball to the moon, wait, you'll be on it there too.”

Jon chuckled, and Gladius and the Brotherhood didn’t know what to think about that. It seemed near prohibitively impossible, even for them, but they believe him when he said he was going to do it. How they would react was up in the air.

Haylen continued, “Well not only did he do that, he was stealing from Vault-Tech for his own personal projects.”

Jon whistled, “And that’s stealing from the Government, the fucking Enclave. He did have a pair.”

Danse said, “All they while they thought they recruited him, using seduction do so. The records even show he took a bit of convincing. However, anyone with the gall to steal from Vault-Tech had a long standing plan. Either acting alone, or as a Rob-Co plant.”

Jon nodded, “It would make sense. From what I know, House isn't above using plants to screw over the government. Seems to be his MO at this point.”

Danse said, “I concur. Perhaps you could escort the Scribe and Minister to the basement. We’ll keep watch up here. That elevator might not like the weight.”

Jon hopped of the desk with a smile. Hostage for hostage. The trust building continues. He said, “Good idea, Paladin. Lets move, I’ll take point.”

Jake swiped the card, and the elevator dinged open. Stepping on, the three rode down to the basement. Jon stepped out first with his rifle up, and ferals made their move. One fell to Jon’s head shots, and the second was the biggest feral he had ever seen. Like a super mutant turned into a ghoul, or an Augment. Its charge was still head on, and there was enough distance it the hulking feral had to cover that Jon had plenty of time to aim and fire. He needed two head shots to put it down. The first near took it’s head clean off, but it quickly rebounded from the jerk backwards and even picked up it’s pace.

The second shot was aimed a little lower, and fully destroyed it’s brain stem, finally putting it down. He heard no more folly in the room, and called, “Clear.”

The two stepped out from the elevator. Haylen lit her torch and shined it in the dim warehouse, at the big feral in particular. She said, “I’ve never seen one that big.”

Jake said, “Me neither. Like if one of you got ghoulified, slick.”

Jon nodded, “My thoughts exactly. Two possibilities exist. He turns into a ghoul, FEV seeps in after the radiation, and he had some rare genetic marker that made it actually work as intended. A feral super soldier.”

Haylen added, “Or he could just have gigantism. A little more mundane, but still a rare condition. Even being ghoulified is relatively rare compared to how many died outright from the bombs.”

Jake said, “The likelihood of both in one feral, 200 years on like a big ass ghoul wouldn't be hunted for sport. Not high at all.”

Haylen said, “Definitely an interesting find. I’d like the haul him back to the airport, if that’s alright with you General.”

Jon said, “The building is yours. Any ASAM material goes to Concorde. Jake has already has a shop dedicated to research. The Brotherhood can send a team.”

Haylen smiled, “I don’t see a problem with that. You'll just have to take it to Danse. I don’t have that kind of authority.”

Jon said, “Run it up the chain. Understood. Let’s move.”

They slowly moved though the smaller warehouse, wary in case there was more folly in the room. There was none, and Jon identified a loading bay and back exit to the building. One thing he didn’t identify was ASAM material.

Jake voiced his thoughts, “Nothing here yet slick. Just an empty box”

Jon said, “This is practically a public loading dock. They wouldn't be conducting corporate espionage here.”

Haylen said, “A secret hatch. Pre-war folks loved their secret hatches. And what’s not to love? Maybe there's a sub basement.”

She started her search along the wall near the loading dock, working her torch around the room in a methodical fashion. She was rewarded when her light stopped on some rubber mats sitting along the wall

Jake pointed over her shoulder almost as fast as it did, “There.”

Haylen giggled, “I saw it, big guy.”

Jake grinned as he moved past her to move the mats. He said, “Slick, you want to do the honors?”

Jon nodded and lifted the hatch. He jumped down and spent a moment with his rifle up. No ferals presented themselves, but he whistled loudly away. Haylen and Jake began their climb down, and still none presented themselves. The lab was clear at the moment.

Haylen shined her torch around. There were shelves with various materials on them in Vault-Tech crates, then a bench with various ASAMs and terminals connected to test communications. To the side was one of the ancillary things Jon was looking for here. An Industrial press that no doubt had an ASAM template loaded into its memory. The few ASAMs on the conveyor proved it.

As they walked in Jake said, “Look at this place. A full R&D lab so they could reverse engineer the tech. Fucking jackpot. Worth every cap.”

Jon smiled at the light corruption on his part. A good government always had some. Anything too clean couldn’t be trusted, because it meant they were lying about the corruption that was always there. Haylen said, “I’ll say. I brought spare holotapes with me. I can make a couple copies of what’s on that press.”

Jon said, “Do it. Jake check the bench. I’ll look at the side rooms, see if there a generator or something to get power up. I imagine a place like this would be on a separate circuit.”

Haylen offered, “Need a spare torch?”

Jon said, “Thanks, but my glasses have targeting optics. I’m good.” Not technically lying.

The party split and took to their tasks. Jon first entered a door nearest to the press. It was a lager space, and had a hall just that he could see though the window that would probably lead to a generator. Inside was a construction Protectron, deactivated, a lockup, and complex communications equipment and mainframes to test with the ASAMs so they could build their own com-hub. It may even be a com-hub. A researcher's desk yielded their personal notes on the project, and a quick flip though confirmed that they were basically complete with their R&D phase.

Jon went down though the hall, and it indeed led to a power generator with it’s fusion core humming away at a low standby. All he needed to do was flip the main breaker. He walked out first to the main lab, Haylen just finishing up and taking a close spot behind Jake as they both analyzed the bench.

Jon walked up and said, “Here, their research notes. They were basally ready to build their own.”

Jake took the documents and Haylen held the torch. He said, “They were in the process. That’s what this test bench is, and the notes are only gonna help us understand it faster. Good find, slick. How about power?”

Jon nodded, “I wanted to check before flipping the switch.”

Haylen smiled, “Good idea. Make sure our breakers are off. This one is, I did the press, and anything back there?”

Jon said, “A main power button but it was already clicked off. I’ll be back.”

He walked back and turned the power on. The facility lights flickered on almost instantly, and he entered the now lit lab. Jake and Haylen were conducting a test while he check the other side room. It was a smaller storage room, and the only things of note were a key for the lockup, and a holotape. He slotted the holotape in and smiled wickedly at what he saw. The missing plot types, commercial, recreational, municipal and martial. Even basic plans for them, other things as well such as master control desks. Every plot had the initials of its creator, and all of these standard programs were done by KTH.

He walked back to the main lab and the two were analyzing the results of their test on the bench terminals. He handed Haylen the tape, “Here, work your magic. That’s the missing plot types, cowpoke.”

Jake slapped his knee, “Hot damn! Jackpot indeed, slick.”

Jon nodded, “I’ll be reporting this to the Paladin. In all likelihood I’ll be moving on after. I think you’re in good hands, Minister Evans.”

He shot a quick glance to Haylen, which she returned. He said, “I think I am, General Singh.”

He waved and made way to the upper basement, and then back into the lobby. He opened the negotiations with a quick toss to Danse, who had no trouble catching the key. Jon said, “We hit the mother load down there. The Scribe and Minister are working as we speak. That key is for the lockup in the sub basement. Take it as a sign of my good faith. The building and it’s loot are yours.”

Danse extrapolated, “But you keep the ASAM equipment.”

Jon nodded, “It goes to Concorde. Jake already has a shop, and he’s the foremost expert. The Brotherhood can of course send a team to assist and share in the technology. Also claim some reasonable accommodations to quarter them.”

Danse gently slipped the key into a pouch, “I’ll have to confer with my superior, but I do not foresee any issues with that.”

Jon smiled, “Neither do I. As I said, the key is my good faith. I’ll be taking off. I trust Gladius with the security of my Minister.”

They simply nodded while they wondered if they would see him again, “General.”

“General.”

Jon walked out with a smirk, and then took a centering breath as he made way down the rubble strewn Boston streets. He was a man of his word, and he would be sending a message to the Commonwealth super mutants. He would be conquering his fear. He had plenty of 308, plenty of ordinance, and the only way he would be better equipped is with power armor, but that is useless against them at extremely close range, and only limiting his room to maneuver in the tight passages of a sky scraper. If he died, it would be one hell of a way to go. He truly trusted his people to continue the fight in his absence. It’s basically what they were doing anyway, and no one would question Preston assuming the role.

It was late in the afternoon he got past Boston Commons, and stood just down the way from one of the highest towers in the Wealth. Thirty stories of super mutants. He wouldn't be locked in there with them. They would be locked in with the General.

Unlike most towers in the densely packed city, this one had more room to breath. There was a park outside the main entrance of the place, cut into higher terrain to set it deeper down and level with lower terrain on the other side of the park, and a group here or there were collected around fires. They didn’t have any watches on the level above them that Jon was now standing on.

They had just begun to notice the man in blue standing over them, and Jon began the culling. He snapped his rifle up, and began pulling the trigger. The super mutants began raising the alarm as their comrades fell around them. As fast as Jon was aiming and squeezing, some thought the semi automatic action was actually automatic fully.

Jon dropped a magazine, and slotted a fresh one in as he still stood there. Shots were coming in, but they were inaccurate due to the lack of maintenance super mutants preform on their weapons. Many were also charging forth to reach the stairs, and Jon punished them for that mistake hitting the mini nuke one of them was carrying, and turning the rest to giblets. The bomb forced the remaining mutants back into cover.

Many had died already and the park was running slick. Jon took shots as soon as targets were available, and took one bullet in the thigh as more than one peaked out of cover at a time. That super mutant died to his next shot. He began an advance now that the courtyard was mostly clear. Any left were coming from the entrance, and died to Jon’s hyper accurate and reactive fire, only a couple shots being fired back before they fell with missing heads and faces. It wouldn't be a message if he used a crutch the whole time, so no VATS was used in the exercise.

As he advanced across the park to the entrance, return fire from sniper perches began to fall, but it was too little to late as even a purposeful walk for Jon was a run for others. As he approached the main door, he used his off hand to pull a grenade from his belt, and pulled the pin with his teeth. After the tossed the first one he did the same for a second, and he could hear the calls of the super mutants in the main lobby.

His walk became a sprint into the lobby now under the perch fire, and halted as soon as he identified a target. That disorientated mutant died, and then another, and another, a dog as well.

He didn’t stop his hard charge and immediately took to the steps. He tracked though their blood, and each step left his bloody imprints on it, the first couple having enough to drip down a level. He came up to the walkway, and there was an elevator that would take him higher up. It was coming down as he positioned himself in front of it.

The door opened and two more super mutants were in the lift, along with their hound. Jon’s reactions were quick, and the first shot took the head of it’s target before they even had the chance to react. The dog was now down, the super mutants roared their displeasure. Jon nearly laughed aloud when they tired to charge together and got stuck in the door. Jon instead fired twice more and ended their attempt.

The door was trying to close as the elevator was being recalled, but the safety mechanism wouldn't let it close around the corpse of the hound laying in it’s way. Jon took the advantage he had and restocked his ammo pouches from his ruck before moving the bodies out and taking the elevator back from whence it came, no doubt with more reinforcements.

The boss decided to talk with his deep gravel voice on the way up, “You only killed the weakest of us! That only make’s us stronger! If they can not kill one puny human, they are less than nothing!”

Just as the door was about to open he had a final word, “You fight well for a human, now die like one!”

The door opened and more super mutants were standing at the ready. It did not matter to Jon. He put a shot in the chest of the one closet to him to drive them back, and tossed another grenade he had at the ready. The mutants called out again, and again they were sluggish to react. It only killed the one he shot initially, but it did throw the other five in the room off. He marched out firing, and killed them in quick succession. He took another shot to the side, but it was in the gut from a low caliber pipe banger. No consequence. A chest wound would be slightly more problematic.

The sounds of running hulks told him were he needed to go next, where the enemies were coming from. He was already pointing his rifle after a reload in the right direction, and they fell on top of each other as the lost their heads one after the other. He let them get just far enough into the room to be commuted to the attack with their mostly melee weapons, but not far enough to spread out. People, even super mutants didn’t die dramatically after a head shot. The dropped like stones, carrying with them only their last bit of momentum.

Jon continued his march of death though the tower. He went though the hall the others came from, and took to the stairs to the next level at the end of them. There was a super mutant in a side room trying to be clever, but Jon clocked him near immediately and only needed a single shot to put him down as the Augment went up the stairs.

The clever one was on the left, and the path forward was on the right. In the room there was a rubble ramp in place of stairs, and Jon had his show stopper trained to the side as he went up them. As soon as a head showed itself he snapped the shot, and snapped the next victim with it. Two more were near by in the enclosed entrance to the next hall and they opened fire. The range was to close for Jon to play around, and he ducked his head back below the floor before it was taken off. He cooked another grenade and tossed it overhead. He had a good look at the space, and the ordinance sailed though the window and landed at their feet. As soon as it did it exploded.

Jon rushed up and though the door near the first dead victim. One was dead, and the other heavily injured from shrapnel. Jon ended any attempt of him to get up with a couple shots. A reload followed not long after.

He made way to another elevator when the boss spoke again, “You fight good human! You fight almost as good as a super mutant! Maybe we will put you in the cage with Strong, and Rex!”

Jon knew that wasn't just some rally cry, propaganda for rapidly shrinking moral. He truly believed that. They believed him. That every one of his Jon killed only made them stronger. They died because they were weak. He didn’t know about the captives, but he would pull them out, certainly. He punched the button to the elevator.

He ended up in an atrium with three levels. It was high up in the tower, and more open. He could feel the wind as his Augment reaction speeds carried him forward. He took a couple steps out, and every step came with a shot in a different target. Only the last couple in the on the first and second levels had the time to get shots off. One hit him in the shoulder, one dinged off his helmet, and they soon died as he didn’t miss.

He took a couple more steps and turned around, identifying threats on the third level balcony. Only two, and only two shots were needed. He took the next set of steps, and shot down a mutants lying in wait before they had the chance to respond. They were like Augments. Cut their strings and leave them lay in the dirt. Now he had the caliber to do so without needing multiple shots.

There was a recording studio with one more mutant, and in the booth was the ramp up to the last level. Two more were at the top of it, and they both had melee weapons. They hadn't started their charge when Jon fired at both. They dropped and slid a bit down the ramp, their blood flowing freely as Jon charged up it.

He reach the top covered in a good bit of his own blood, a hard look in his eye. Super mutant blood was splashed all though his boots and pant legs as he walked though it. The Boss was an idiot when he came from his hole, without his mini-gun already spooled up. Jon smirked as his rifle barked just as the heavy weapon had spooled and was about to fire. He might have had a chance to cut Jon in half as he died, but not anymore. There may have been a few stragglers he passed by, but that’s all the better. The super mutants of Trinity Tower, and the Commonwealth boss, were broken.

He stood at the edge of the balcony to deliver his message. He thumped his chest with every word and projected his Augment voice as far as it would go, “I! AM! SUPERIOR! PLAY! NICE! OR! DIE!”

Any super mutant within earshot knew where the call came from, and for many it shocked them deep to their core. The Commonwealth tribe knew fear for perhaps the first time as the day turned to night.

Jon turned back to the boss’s hole, and Rex was in front of the cage door. He was wearing a neatly patched tan suit, that was only dirty from his current predicament, not from general uncleanliness. He looked unkempt overall, but still standing proudly.

He said, “Oh, magnificent bard! A rescuer had finally arrived for us.”

Jon could smell that Strong was a super mutant, even though he was obviously hiding. Rex said, “You are the first to actually make it to the cage.”

Jon nodded, “Apologies Mr. Rex.”

Rex smiled at the politeness. Not only was he rescued, but the rescuer was actually civilized, “Goodman, actually.”

Jon smirked, “Mr. Goodman, but I didn’t actually know you were here. I came to send a message to the rest of the super mutants and decapitate their leadership structure.”

Rex chucked, and then laughed, “Sent a message you have, Mr.?”

Jon said, “General. Singh.”

Rex nodded, “General Singh. I will admit my current predicament I entry my own fault. I came to teach the savages Shakespeare, a foolish idea. I thought If I could, then there was hope for them. I was captured, and forced to record a distress call, that you obviously didn’t hear, to lure people in. However, Strong here actually spoke out for me, wanted to learn more, and he got thrown in here with me. I think they expected him to eat me. He has made no such move, and hasn't eaten at all for a few days. They said they would kill us both if I gave him any of my slop. Maybe there is hope for them after all. Thank you Strong, truly, from the bottom of my heart.”

Jon said, “Let me open this up.”

He simply grabbed the handle and ripped the locked security gate open, mangling the locking mechanism. Rex rushed out and began taking heavy breaths of freedom. Jon took a casual step in and began staring down Strong at the back of the cage. Jon now knew and smelled what a super mutant dealing with fear was like. Might made right with them, for now.

Strong averted his eyes, nearly in shame. Jon said, “Look me in the eye.”

Strong did as told and said, “Message…”

He thought about the word to use, “Un-der-stood.”

Jon smiled warmly, “Excellent. Let’s go.”

Strong followed and said, “There is lift. Use to get down. Other bothers may not un-der-stand. Can Strong have Fist’s gun?”

Jon smiled wickedly at him, and that didn’t reassure strong. How could a tiny human do what he did? Jon said, “Sure. Keep it ready in case others need another lesson.

Strong matched the smile when he picked the mini-gun and the rest of Fist’s ammo. They collected on the lift, and Rex took cover in the guardrail as the lift began it’s decent. There were indeed bothers that didn’t understand. Strong was smarter than Fist and kept his weapons spooled and ready to fire the whole way down. Between the fast fire rate, and Jon’s accuracy, the only dozen or so mutants left taking some lasts shots fell before them. The all cried about how they were superior before the died. That super mutants would kill all humans as the human and his super mutant companion killed them.

The landed at a balcony patio and made there way back inside and down the steps to the lobby. Jon tagged the location on his Pip-Boy as Rex said, “Thank you. Thank you. It’s over now. I’ll be returning to WRVR, and my carrier on radio. You two are always welcome at the studio, even if just for a bit of food and talk. Far thee well gentlemen.”

Rex walked away, and Jon didn’t think much of it. If he could have gotten here in the first place without dying, then he wasn't a complete idiot. Before the two took off after him, Strong said, “You are strong. You are Strong’s leader. You are a brother.”

Jon huffed in a deep breath and smiled, “Then lets go, brother. We’ll be attacking Lexington in a short while.”

Strong now smiled evilly as they walked back into the ruins of Boston, and made way for Fort Starlight.