Chapter 28: The Castle.

When the left the Combat Zone, Jon traveled south along the freeway. He was happy to take a look back when he got past the defensive line on the westbound and saw observation posts and nests dotted along. There were regular patrols in between them as well. Coming on South Boston Military Checkpoint he waved as he passed the place taken from Gunners and used to stage the operation to retake the town and Castle.

The Minutemen already had mostly reliable communications now, built up in the three weeks he was out with brotherhood help. With the transmission tower, they would have definitively reliable comms. He knew from his comms Colonel Garvey had ordered the attack as he traveled the Glowing Sea. The raiders were dead, the town theirs, and all that remained is the docks and Castle.

He worked his way though the narrower streets of south Boston, and was pleased his intelligence was correct. They town was relatively undamaged. Given the turrets it seemed the Minutemen had even got the police station up, and may have found a Winters holotape. He wasn't pleased there was no actual guard on the outside though.

He halted, and hopped out of his armor, still covered in mostly his own dried blood. He said, “Wait here, I have to chew some people out.”

Cait said, “Aye, bea fukin stupid nat te ave a guard. Ean raiders no tat.”

Jon said, “Precisely.”

Cait looked offended that someone agreed with her, and Piper said, “Be legendary blue. Make headline news.”

Jon hissed, “That’s one of those things Piper. Could affect men’s moral if every ass chewing hit the paper. Now systemic abuse of command, or lack of enforcement entirely?”

Piper nodded as she poked him in his stern pectoral, “Got it blue. Off the record this time.”

“Aye fukin gross. What ye evn be on about.” Cait muttered.

Jon smiled at Piper and politely walked up the small set of stairs. He knocked thrice, and rested his fists on his hips with the happiest smile he could manage. And anticipation of seeing Minutemen she shot out a hand in greeting. It was not a friendly one.

He was left standing like a fool when no Minutemen answered the door. A man in the black uniform of the CPD answered instead, with even a proper hat. His eyebrow rose, and the man slowly reached out his hand to grip Jon’s, having to angle his approach some.

Jon slowly lowered his hand and met the shake. The man muttered, “Eye patch, blue combat fatigues, covered in the blood of his enemies.”

Then he said, “General Singh, pleasure to meet you. Lieutenant Simon Forseti, head of the South Boston Police Precinct.”

Jon slowly nodded, “Piper, dear.”

She said, “No blue, you’re not hallucinating.”

Cait said, “Looka likes a lil doogooder to meh.”

Jon’s warm smile was less sarcastic, “Precisely. Apologies Lieutenant Forseti. Ive taken two recent traumatic brain injuries, one of which delivered by the hot head over there. I was honestly expecting to have to discipline some Minutemen for not properly manning their post.”

There was one part he focused on there, and it was his job as a police officer, no matter how rookie he is. He said, “Ah, General...would you like me to...arrest her? I assume assaulting the Military Governor of the SCPG is a serious crime.”

Jon chuckled as Cait muttered again, “Ta fuk ima inta here?”

Jon said, “No, she’s under military jurisdiction right now. So not your ball game. However, I’m technically on a case that is your ball game.”

He got serious, “Wouldn't happen to be Eddie Winters would it? He definitely seems like a ball game you’d be on.”

Jon threw his hands out, “Guilty as charged officer.”

The group chucked, except for Cait who scoffed. Forseti said, “We found a holotape from him, and there just happen to be a file with invoices from wicked shipping and notation, rad experiments question mark. He is in all likelihood a ghoul, and this precinct considers in an open case until proven otherwise.”

Jon actually wanted to cry. He smiled, shook his head a bit, and held up his finger for a moment before bringing it straight back down to point, “You take anything Winters related to Nick Valentine. Piper, baby, is he and Ellie in Concorde?”

“Near the shop actually, on the same alley.”

Jon looked back to Forseti, “You take that stuff to Concorde, and you give Nick the help he needs that I promised him. I just have a lot of shit going on right now, and I’m technically on a timetable from now until the foreseeable future.”

Forseti nodded, “We’ll get it there, sir. He has more I take it?”

Jon smiled wickedly, “He has a grudge going back to before the war. Listen to me now, you are backing him up. He’s putting a bullet in that asshole before he has the chance to get his claws in what’s becoming by life’s fucking achievement. You hear? Cait’s right, you are a justice is fair and blind kind of guy. I can see it.”

Forseti smiled warmly, and then lowered it to a smirk, “I understand sir. This whole setup was a crazy revenge plot against the Gunners for killing our parents, and the place was good shelter. The suspects were usually listed as dead or alive, preferably dead, a couple actually needing protection because we were lied to in questioning. But with the SCPG, we can do real police work now, do it right, so thanks for what you do.”

Jon said, “No officer, thank you. Help Nick, and as soon as Winter’s hits the floor you can consider yourself Chief of Police, my friend.”

Forseti sputtered, “Ah, I, ah, am in no way prepared for that….but...who else?”

Jon nodded, “Who else.”

Forseti returned it, “Thank you General. It’s an honor. We’ll close the case.”

Jon said, “I’ll leave you too it. Report to Minister Evans and let him know the deal. In the hardware shop.”

Jon turned away as Forseti closed the door and began preparations to move with his small precinct. Jon took the steps back down and hopped the back in his armor. They began to walk again and Cait said, “Ta fuk wa tha?”

Piper put a reassuring hand on her shoulder, “Honey, its called civility and genuine demeanor.”

She recoiled, “Ta fuk wit yah facny wors and such. Git yah hans oaf me cunt.”

Piper put her hand away and Jon kept walking. Cait said, “O’ notin to say about me insultin yah gurl. Wha kinna man ye be.”

Jon said, “If you remember, she was the one throwing the mini nukes around. I need say nothing for her. If she was insulted you would be dead.”

Cait glanced at piper who was smiling happily and nonchalantly. Cait could always spot a killer. And she was throwing the nukes around Tommy’s. She said, “Aye. Soorry I gass.”

Piper said, “It’s alright. Don’t sweat it. Like literally take a hit already. You want some jet? High quality stuff.”

She laughed, “Ah ye. Bess oneen all me das.”

Piper pulled out the inhaler and Cait was completely taken back just as they were about to breech the edge of the town and come to the peninsula. She said, “Wha, what te fuk is gonna on hair. Like sireously?”

Jon was stopped and was surveying the peninsula, seeing the Castle, and his Minutemen in and around a collapsing station near by. He was also covering the small exchange from prying eyes.

Cait said, “Yah seriously offerin? Wha you say, yah man?”

Jon said, “Winners do a moderate amount of drugs. I am living proof of this notion. In short, I don’t give a fuck, and even if you get clean you cant just cold turkey this shit. Can you use Addictol? We have some I guarantee it.”

She thew up a hand, “Ah shite, juss ha te fukin prod ter dinna yah? Like me dakrest depts rie oaf the bat huh? Me’s trie te geh clean. Me knows ets doin meh in. Notin works! Notin! No psycho, lil burd died, shea knows et.”

Jon said, “We have doctors. They’ll help you.”

Cait said, “Donna gi me hop like tha. I tol yous not-”

“Nothing you tried worked. We have people. They’ll fucking help you if you let them.”

“Whay, huh? Whay and wha te fuk is gonna on wit you too.”

Piper said, “Because we help people?”

“Oh bullshite. Yah doin for sumtin.”

Jon said, “I am 24 years old and the military dictator of a forming nation state, the commander in chief entire military. Do you understand what that means?”

“Aye, sum. Awfu mouful ther. Men twie your age hant don half ah moch.”

“Precisely. I came, I saw, I am conquering the Commonwealth. I’m good at it. I am doing it by helping people. A stranger with a gadget. Survivors of a massacre.”

“A bombshell journalist.”

Jon smiled under his helmet, “A detective caught in the snare. A trail of people I’ve helped. And you’re right. I do do it all for something. Do you know what I do it for?”

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“Yah SCPG I guss.”

“Yes. One day, I will fulfill my personal ambitions. And that day is when I call in all of the good will I’ve built, and ride it straight to the moon. Who cares if peoples lives genuinely got better from my actions? I will certainly not complain when they praise my name as a hero and freedom fighter either.”

Piper said, “He means that literally. He’s going to the moon, and he needs a stable Commonwealth to do it. Bad guys out of the way. People willing to help him pull off something so stupidly insane.”

Cait shoot her head and finally took the jet. After an inhale, she perked up and said, “Wha te fuk. Wha te fuk. Cannea sumon actually exspline. Mini nuke’s erry whar. Ten takin bout te moon? Te fuck.”

Jon said, “Yup. You good? I kinda have a mission to take care of.”

“Oy fuk off, lessa go.”

“Good, you’ll be getting a medical exam when we’re done.”

“Aye, fuking cocksuka. Nadda choice annywah.”

Jon walked out into the no mans land down the main road leading to the fort. The granite walls of the star fortress rose from the ‘island’ and were mostly intact. There was damage he could see to the facing wall, making a wide opening for any to crawl through. The transmitter towered above it, and was the last key he needed to make his Minutemen nearly unstoppable. They would be able to stage more and more complex operations that would sweep aside any who oppose them.

He got close to the building, and two came out to greet him. One was Preston wearing power armor, but no helmet with his stetson, and another was an older woman in older fatigues and a beret. Jon of course still had his fat man, and they smiles were evil as he approached.

Jon said, “Colonel Garvey. Good to see you out and about. Who’s this?”

“Good to be out sir. Thanks for giving me that suit way back not that long ago. I’ll let her introduce herself.”

The woman snapped to attention, “Ronnie Shaw, Commonwealth Minutemen. What a pleasure sir, but I was wondering when you idjits would finally show up.”

Preston took a breath in and closed his eyes. Jon laughed, “Sorry, got shot in the face. I heard you have intimate knowledge of the Castle.”

She scoffed, “Oh real intimate sir. My first time was behind those walls.”

Cait couldn’t help her howl, “Oy ye! I lika tis bitch!”

Jon chuckled, “Yeah, you’ll do Colonel Shaw. Garvey, what to we got?”

Preston said, “Mirelurks. I reckon we start taking out the kids, the queen shows up and you hit her with that artillery.”

Jon said, “Not a bad idea. Swan was taken care of, and Boston Commons should be good for a full sweep and clear. The Combat Zone is also clear of raiders, and run legit now by Tommy. Staff 114 and get us a real presence in downtown.”

He nodded, “Yes sir.”

Shaw took a refreshing breath in, “Ah, to see some actual fucking competence. First time in literally decades. Even before Becker died and the idjits took over, it was going down hill. Hollis was the last one that knew what the hell he was doing.”

Jon left a moment of silence for his XO before saying, “It’s only going up now. Looks like half a company here. Plan of attack?”

Preston nodded to Ronnie, “Well sir, we got three plans. The stupid one, the okay one, the good one.”

“Respectively.”

“The stupid one is to just rush in from the front. From what I’ve heard, you could pull that off but these bones aren't made for bayonet range anymore. The okay plan is we do the same, but from both sides, there's more than one hole in the wall. The good plan is use the mine field we already have set up, and draw em out into a firing line. They are just bugs after all. They’ll rush.”

Jon nodded and took a sarcastic moment to consider, bringing his off hand up to his chin to ponder. They both snicker and Jon said, “Lets go with the good plan. I’ll rile them up. Set your line.”

“Sir.” They both said as they took to his orders.

He motioned for his companions to stay back. Cait looked like she was going to complain, but Piper put her hand on her shoulder again. She simmered down once again. Jon walked out and up to the very edge of the minefield. As he did the various teams of the task force set up on either side, nearly as far as the peninsula’s width. The angles of fire would cross at or near the opening into the infested fort.

They were set, and all waiting for Jon’s order. He yelled, “Minutemen! No more!”

“Never again!”

“No More!”

“Never again!”

He let his ordinance fly. He had two mini-nukes left, “No More!”

“Never Again!” The ordinance hit precisely where Jon aimed it, just inside the rubble of the wall.

The yells had already began stir the population of mirelurks. The nuke sent them into a frenzy and they rushed up and out of their holes. The first began to trickle though. They were on average large crustaceans, with hard shells that could deflect nearly anything. They walked nearly upright on four crawling legs, and had two forward facing pincers. Many had scars, markings, and barnacles covering their hulls.

The fire began as the force opened up at the first ones. This force was armed with standard issue. Service rifles chambered in 308, and the belt fed version Jon designed for machine gun applications. Is magazine was simply a flat metal box with the belt neatly layered inside. The thing fed into a normal lower, but the belt was pulled up and though the corner and fed into the break open upper. There was a heaver stock, longer barrel, integral by-pod, rail system instead of carry handle. It was mean to do the work of suppression.

The first ones died as the collective mass of the volley slammed into them and mulched their softer exposed places. There was semi auto fire, fully automatic bursts Jon was happy to hear, and red lasers from the M2 lashing out against the occupiers of their rightful territory. They wised up and hunkered down as they charged in more numbers.

They leaned into the fire, claws in front of their faces, and started deflecting shots. One some the shell was so hard they would spark off. Most times they wouldn't, and at times they were soft shell and died outright. Even the harder shells would crack eventually under the withering fire. A grenade launcher added its notes to the song of battle, then another, and more at the increasing mass of mirelurks running and dying to the crossfire.

Explosions wracked the mirelurk lines. Because they could deflect some shots, they could run further than the last. Every little bit they pushed forward without dying was closer they got to their target overall. The grenades hit, and they started to run into the mines set up around the no man’s land. Their numbers were still concentrated at the bottleneck, and they would spread out as they moved further out, trying to get at all their targets at once. Jon picked the tightest concentration, just in front of the bottle neck, and fired his next to last nuke. He still had a cirt, and needed not worry about missing the queen.

The ordinance dropped and exploded in the field of mirelurks, alive and dead. It incinerated the ones still in the breech, and it was the last of the mirelurks coming out of the fort. The rest were dead or running towards it. The last were finished, and in all there were nearly hundreds of the bugs laying halfway to the line.

“Cease fire!”

“Cease fire!”

“Cease fire!” Called up and down the line.

Ronny got up with her old M1 musket in hand, “Alright you snot nose green horns! The General wants his Castle back! Clear the inside and kill the stragglers!”

The task force picked themselves up and moved orderly towards the castle. A couple teams broke ahead and took point as the rest followed them in. Every once in a while there was a shot into one still moving or twitching in some way. The team occupied the entrance, and opened up at the couple that remained inside. The rest caught up, and they moved it. Orders were called out every once in a while by the officers and Sergeants, and they split in half to begin clearing either side of the fortification’s inside the walls.

Jon casually walked after they made way, and then walked across the lot to where the second opening in the wall was. His men had already scaled it and were shooting up nest of eggs and the smaller mirelurks that would pop from them. The shooting never really died down as he made it to the back corner of the star fort overlooking the sea. Eventually mamma had to show up, and he would be ready for her.

After about fifteen or twenty minutes, the rest of the Castle was cleared, and the all clear sounds were going out. The ground rumbled in response, and Jon saw the disturbances in the water where she would pop up. She did with a splash and a wave in the Massachusetts ocean. She taller even than the behemoth. Thin around the midsection, and wide around the head with a massive armored and spiked shell. She stood on six legs, and long thin pincers for claws. Tendrils trailed around her mandibles. The Queen roared at the destruction of her nest, and as always gave Jon the perfect shot.

He targeted her face, and let loos his crit. Division was achieved when it whisked away and made a crater from the head of the massive beast. To her credit, she took a couple steps back and tried to stay standing. Atom giveth, and he taketh away. The Queen fell over to the side, and those on the wall cheered, and those on the ground matched it. The Minutemen stood victorious in the Castle once again.

Jon marched to the continued cheers and saw Preston strolling around the walls, looking at every inch of what he only heard of in story and myth. He stopped when he noticed Jon. Jon noticed the wetness of his eyes.

Jon said, “Preston. Good work once again.”

He smiled with a couple nods, “Jon. Thanks. For everything. It was all going to shit for so long. And now here we are again. You really are one of the good guys Jon. Don’t let anyone tell you different.”

Jon grabbed his helmet with his off hand and had a smile on. He said, “You just described yourself, Preston. To the good guys.”

“To the good guys.”

“Sirs!”

Jon, Preston, and Ronnie from another angle walked towards the transmission tower in the center of the complex. It rose nearly 100 feet, had thick steel wire staked in the ground and stabilizing it. Around it was a decently enclosed shack with radio equipment wrapping around the base of the tower.

When they got close, they exited their armor. Preston hobbled in first, and Jon strolled in behind him. Jon said, “Private, give the Colonel your seat.”

She got up and Preston sat down. Jon took a seat on the desk beside him, and Ronnie stood at the door. The Private said, “Sir. The equipment is still good. The roof held so it never to the elements too bad. Just needs power.

Jon breathed deep, “Rig my armor. I’m sending a message.”

Everyone in the room smiled. The Private said, “Yes sir.”

Ronnie said, “Missed the last speech sir.”

Jon huffed, “Well lucky you, Colonel. By they way, you're the same rank, but Preston is the XO of the Minutemen, and your intimidate superior.”

She nodded, “I got it sir. Good. This is the new Minutemen. An army, not a militia, and I’m old school milita. What I can give you sir, is keeping this place running, showing others how, and whipping greenhorns into some kina fighting shape.”

Jon said, “Do it. Preston, you wont like it.”

He nodded in his chair, “Starlight is our HQ now. We purpose built the place for it until we got here, and it’s our main production and logistical center until the plant is up. Be dumb to just up and move for traditions sake with how everything played out. Holding it is enough.”

Jon nodded as the Private completed their work, “We’re good sir.”

Jon muttered so quietly only those of esoteric ears could hear, “Could use a hand, pal. Flip the radios on for me?”

Jon smiled as he heard radios click on people who had pip-boys. He picked up the mic and keyed it, “Attention people of the Commonwealth. My name is General Jon Noonien-Singh, and I’m broadcasting from the Castle, old Fort Independence. Many of you may have heard of me. The Institute made an attempt on my life which has left me scared and deformed. Your Minutemen, your Second Commonwealth Provisional Government, refused to waver in the face of the Institute's acts of terrorism. Together with our allies the Brotherhood we will get justice for every life they have ever taken, every drop of blood they have spilled. We will make them pay. We will make the Director of the Institute, Shaun, pay for his crimes against us. As we speak the SCPG and Brotherhood have devised, and are currently deploying, jamming solutions across our settlements in the Commonwealth that blocks their transporter signal, and prevents them from attacking us as they have in the past. No more will they attack settlements as they did UP, Concorde, and how many others. Never again will we allow them to rule us by fear and intimidation. Our weapons are superior. Our tactics, doctrine, and training are superior. Our will is superior. We will prevail in this struggle, and together we will put an end to this shadow which has hung over us for far too long. There will be a new dawn in the Commonwealth, my friends. General Singh, singing off.”

Hey keyed the mic and set it down. Ronnie said, “Expect a lot of idjits showing up after that.”

Preston nodded approvingly, “That’s the one thing we need the most of, especially in Lexington and Concorde.

The radio cracked away, “Overlord to boss. You read boss?”

Jon scoffed, “Big boss to overlord, I read you.”

“Supreme overlord to big boss, look to the North.”

Jon snorted as he got up, “Fucking dickhead.”

The room chuckled as he picked Preston up and carried him out so they could look towards the airport. They were rewarded with three fireworks rising in their sight lines one after another. They exploded a brilliant red, white, and finally blue. Jon smirked. They brought them for a victory party, and decided to fire a couple off to celebrate their allies victory. His men cheered around him as they finally fizzled out.

Jon wobbled with Preston back to the shack, and the Colonel got back in his seat. Jon keyed the mic, “Bigger boss to supreme overlord, thanks for the show.”

“Supreme overlord most high to bigger boss, you’re welcome. Got a hit, We’ll take my bird this time.”

Jon smirked, “Roger. Biggest boss out.”