A light dusting of frost covered the ground, but it quickly turned to mud beneath the boots of Brotherhood knights. Alex was among a squad of six men, the youngest girl among experienced soldiers. Her pack and slung rifle were heavy on her shoulders, but she took steady breaths as she matched the squad’s pace during the march. She may have been young, but she was trained just as well as they were and she wasn’t going to slow them down.
At the head of the half-squad was Senior Knight Kaori, who had a knight’s shield painted onto her left pauldron. Two inverted chevrons at its base denoted her seniority over Alex and the other knights, who had only one. While not a sergeant quite yet, Knight Kaori was a capable leader entrusted to lead the half-squad on their knight’s patrol. She certainly had the armor to prove it, outfitted in a full panoply of combat armor.
The squad force marched towards one of the Brotherhood’s settlements in the western half of the island. “Another settlement needs our help,” said the knight commander in charge of Hayden Island’s garrison, and Alex was among the eager volunteers. There were few opportunities for advancement for a soldier in peacetime Portland, having been pacified by the Brotherhood, so she had to take them when she could.
Pain shot through the arches of her feet, as the chill prickled at her skin, and all she wanted was to rest in bed, but Michael had insisted on the virtues of making oneself useful to the Brotherhood. It seemed obvious in hindsight, to seize advancement with one’s own efforts, but she had been overly dazzled by the prospect of becoming an initiate. To join the ranks of the Brotherhood of Steel and make her mark on the wasteland for the better. Meanwhile, Michael had realized a more pragmatic aspect of the Brotherhood earlier on, even before he was merely the most eager initiate among their age group. It’s why he was a paladin, entrusted to join the charge into Seattle, and Alex was a knight-squire on garrison duty in Portland.
Marching along the southern coast of the island, through the road running parallel to its length, the squad neared the wooden walls of the Westshore settlement. A community born from a private vault built near the neighborhood they derived their name from. With the Brotherhood’s help, as a part of Abel’s peacekeeping initiatives, the water purification facilities in the vault were expanded and used to water the crops grown beyond its gear-shaped door. It was an investment in time and labor that paid off in the end.
While the plants had mutated to become more resilient to radiation, pure water was as nourishing to them as it was to any living creature. The supply of fresh water increased their harvest of tatos, corn, and other crops several times over. A grateful populace was able to ensure a steady food supply not only for itself, but also for the Brotherhood, who received a percentage of their agricultural output as tax. However, the effects of abundant food were beginning to cause ironic and unintended consequences for the residents of Westshore.
Wild animals had always been attracted to the food waste disposed near the various settlements in Portland, but Westshore was unique for its access to semi-functioning vault facilities. Only the second year of good harvests for the residents of Westshore and a pack of lakelurks had occupied the settlement’s old dumping grounds just beyond their walls in the west. Nestled within a dip in the island’s coastline. They were left undisturbed, and allowed to proliferate in number, until they dug tunnels extending past Westshore’s walls.
Due to this lack of foresight, or unwillingness to act, their local militia had no choice but to call upon the Brotherhood for aid. Lakelurks were a dangerous threat for the typical wastelander, larger than wandering mongrels and as likely to be found in packs. They were almost like yao guai, but were more common along the Columbia River. But even with their sharp claws and tough shells, they were nothing compared to the Brotherhood of Steel.
Westshore’s militia captain, crowned by the peaked cap of a pre-war naval officer, led members of his militia beyond their gates and greeted the Brotherhood force sent to help them. “I’ve gathered these volunteers and we’re prepared to help.” He said, gesturing to his contingent, nearly two dozen strong.
They were armed with pre-war firearms, civilian sporting arms they had modified beyond their initial limitations. Extended magazines, refurbished sights, and other minor alterations were the most common among them. A small handful carried firearms modified with what they called a bump-stock, enabling a faster rate of fire for their semi-automatics. The militia outfitted themselves as well as they could, but Knight Kaori refused to endanger them.
“If you want to help, take up positions on your walls. Make sure none of the lakelurks wander through the tunnels leading into Westshore. You can take potshots from the walls, but wait for me to lead the lakelurks towards my squad.” She said. The militia captain nodded his agreement and led his volunteers to the wall. “There, the locals are safe behind their walls.”
“Two dozen guns would’ve been good to have.” A knight said.
“Maybe, but this way the glory is all ours. Isn’t that right, knights?” Kaori said with a smile and the squad murmured their agreements. “I said, isn’t that right, knights? Ad victoriam!”
“Ad victoriam!” Everyone echoed in half-joking unison.
The squad took up positions in a patch of woodlands near the lakelurk nest, kneeling behind trees for cover. To the east of their position were the wooden walls of Westshore, where their militia stood. Knight Kaori looked at them through her binoculars and waved, confirming their readiness, then turned her attention to the nest.
Alex looked through her own binoculars, a gift from Michael, and a mass of lakelurks. They numbered a few dozen and skittered between clutches of eggs. A numerous pack, but they were slowed by the recent snow. Before long, they would fall into hibernation, but they had to be dealt with. If their sleep was disturbed by any number of reasons, they could become aggressive against the settlement.
“Wait here.” Knight Kaori ordered and advanced with one of her knights. Together, they creeped around the edge of the nest before firing their laser rifles into it. A handful of lakelurks tumbled dead, but the nest was active. Alex shivered from a sudden chill and she checked her rifle.
The two knights fled from the incoming mass of lakelurks as they fired at the legs of whichever creatures were unlucky enough to be in front. This disruption staggered their advance as the injured lakelurks fell behind, tripping or slowing those who attempted to skitter around them. The knights returned to the rest of the squad and Knight Kaori yelled, “Weapons free!”
The squad fired on the lakelurks, their laser rifles blazing loudly in rapid bursts. Beams of red light pelted the lakelurks, piercing their shells into the soft flesh within. The militia on the walls also sent rounds their way, hitting their targets well enough. Every fallen lakelurk meant another obstacle that slowed their advance and, after a few short minutes, the lakelurks were all dead.
A few lakelurks were smoking from concentrated laser fire. Not enough to turn them into ash, but enough to make Alex hungry. Smell of cooking lakelurk flesh wafted into the air and her belly grumbled loudly for food. The lakelurks would have to be left for the residents of Westshore, however. The settlement could repay their debt to the Brotherhood in any number of ways, but the squad’s business in the area was over. It was time to go home.
—
The journey home was uneventful, except for the lakelurk meat Westshore’s militia captain had insisted on giving the squad. It was a personal gift for their part in clearing the lakelurk nest, but not as part of Westshore’s payment to the Brotherhood. Knight Kaori made sure the captain understood, but there was an abundance of meat to be harvested from the lakelurks and the captain was feeling generous.
Alex was given the task of carrying the extra baggage as the youngest knight among the squad. She was always being burdened with every small task, but in this circumstance, it meant she was owed a larger share of the spoils they brought home so she was happy enough to do it. The pain in her feet were still there, but the lakelurks had smelled delicious, and the idea of roasted lakelurk propelled her forward.
The squad rounded a corner and the visage of the Brotherhood’s outpost appeared in the distance. Its gaping maw was topped with the head of a rooster, its beak extending from the front entrance, while wings extended out from either side. The outpost was built into the pre-war shopping mall named for the last legible sign leading into the empty lot beside it, as well as the prominent iconography on the front face of the mall itself. The Chicken Palace.
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On the wings were the names of meals that used to be served within, formed in dull neon lights. An unbelievably large collection of recipes, all involving chicken. Chicken this, chicken that, chicken from a place called Korea. Alex was awestruck by the sheer decadence of pre-war America, even more than Michael had been, but the Brotherhood had its own slice of paradise in the wasteland.
The Chicken Palace was far from what it once was, a strange emporium selling chicken and only chicken, but it had been rebuilt to house the Brotherhood’s garrison on Hayden Island. New generators were set up and lights illuminated the whole interior of the two-story building, but more importantly, the mall was insulated. There was warmth and safety for everyone within.
As soon as Alex stepped beyond the front doors, past the security checkpoint, the hairs on her skin stood on end and warmth washed over her. The thickness of it was nearly tangible. Music softly played from the speakers located throughout the mall, transmitted from the raceway the Brotherhood repurposed for its radar array. The current song was one of the usual covers the station host played.
You've put your final suit on
I paint my fingernails
Oh, we're going out in style, babe
And everything's on sale
After the spoils were divided between the squad, Alex went straight to the cafeteria as the others left for the showers. She traded her rations for the day to have her lakelurk meat roasted. The smell of it wafted through the cafeteria and she tried to hide the smugness she felt from tugging at her lips.
She took her seat at a table to the side of the cafeteria, not wanting to show off her meal quite so overtly. As soon as she bit into her roasted lakelurk, semi-sweet and savory, somebody seated themselves beside her. She turned and found Iverson, newly returned from a mission judging by the dried blood on his breastplate. He was one of her oldest friends, but when he put his arm around her and pulled her into an embrace, she couldn’t help but feel dirty from his touch.
“You’ll never believe the day I just had.” Iverson said and unpacked a metal lunchbox, filled with bread and dried fish, onto the table. “Ghouls wandered in from Couve across the north bridge. I think they were scavvers. The sergeant said something about reports of a mini nuke explosion.”
“Oh yeah?”
“They must’ve triggered a mini nuke somehow and turned to ghouls. There were dozens of them, but Paladin Gallagher charged through the ghouls like nothing. The rest of us knights had to follow behind, but the mop up was easy.”
“But you’re okay though, right?” Alex said, gesturing to the dried blood on Iverson. His brows raised and he had a look in his eyes that almost made her regret asking.
“Just tripped and fell. I got scratched a few times, but nothing got through.” Iverson said with a wry grin. “How about you? How was your day?”
“Cleared a lakelurk nest.” Alex said between bites of her food. “Easier than I thought it’d be.”
“And that’s where you got the meat?”
“Mhm.” Alex sounded out, her mouth full of food.
“Lucky.” Iverson turned to his food, as if to begin eating.
She wanted to eat her food in peace without having to carry on a conversation, then she felt something grasp at her thigh. She froze, gulping down a half-chewed piece of meat, and knew it was Iverson's hand before she looked down to confirm it. Despite its warmth, it sent chills up her spine worse than the approaching winter.
“But how are you?” Iverson said and looked at her like a lost puppy. “Are you hurt? Lakelurks are dangerous.”
Alex wiped her hand on a napkin and grabbed Iverson’s, gently removing it from her thigh as she resisted the urge to groan. She let go and returned to eating, trying to ignore Iverson’s somber mood. She hated how brazen Iverson had become since Michael was transferred to Seattle, but he was still one of her friends despite it all. The least she could do was spare his feelings, he just cared a little too much sometimes.
“Knight Alexandra.” A woman called out, to Alex’s relief.
“Knight Kaori.” Alex said and stood to greet the woman, but she placed her hands on Alex’s shoulders and pushed her back into her seat. “At ease, no need for formality in the cafeteria. Just wanted to give you some news from Seattle about that friend of yours.”
Alex twisted in her seat with a sudden snap to look at Knight Kaori. “About Michael? What happened?”
“Relax!” Knight Kaori said with a laugh, slapping Alex’s back. “He’s safe. Better than safe, he’s been promoted to sergeant.”
“Really, that’s great! I wish I could congratulate him, he must be very proud. Was there anything else?”
“He won a great victory at a place called McSorely Creek. Inquisitor Flores confirmed the scene, at least two hundred raiders confirmed dead in a single action. They’re throwing a feast in his honor today.” Knight Kaori praised Alex for her own job well done and left to grab her meal, leaving Alex alone with her friend once again.
“Did you hear that Iverson?” Alex said, her mood restored, and turned to Iverson. “Michael’s already a paladin sergeant. Three full stripes, can you believe it?”
“Yeah, that’s great.” Iverson said, but the smile on his face was a lie.
Alex felt guilty that Iverson couldn’t be happy for Michael, because Michael was his friend too. They had all been part of the same cluster of children growing up, but the three of them were closer than the others and nearly inseparable. And now Iverson yearned for someone who could not reciprocate his love. It hurt him deeply, she recognized it in the tightness of his expression. No matter how well he tried to hide it, she knew him too well.
She remembered the words he’d said when he confessed his feelings. “There’s someone I’ve fallen for. You know her pretty well.” It made things awkward between them and made her question every act of kindness he showed her. Was it genuinely for her sake or were they small steps to becoming intimate with her.
She couldn’t help but hate him for those words, for ruining the friendship they had, but she couldn’t help but forgive him too. After all, didn’t she feel the same way for Michael? At least Iverson was brave enough to express his feelings out loud. And if Alex could forgive him, maybe Michael could forgive her. That is, if he didn’t reciprocate her feelings.
“I’m going to shower then sleep, it’s been a long day. Have a good night.” Iverson responded in kind as she stuffed the last of her meal into her mouth.
Alex hurried to leave, avoiding Iverson’s gaze as she disposed of her trash and placed her tray on a rack for collection. Careful to avoid the scrutiny of other Brotherhood personnel walking through the halls, walking in cheerful groups or as couples hand in hand, she traveled to an old store on one end of the mall, where the letters “IKEA” were posted above the entrance. It had been specially chosen to serve as a barracks for the Hayden Island garrison, because of the furniture already inside.
Alex’s own bed had a nightstand attached to the side, where she retrieved a clean BOS jumpsuit to wear after her shower. A hushed conversation caught her attention and she saw a couple laying together in a nearby bed. One a knight and the other an initiate. The initiate whispered into the knight’s ear and he laughed. “Kids?” He said. “I don’t know, two?” They were probably talking about raising a family, so many couples often did.
Alex turned away, not wanting to intrude on their conversation by staring. She removed her helmet from her head, placing it beside herself on the bed, and pulled off the red fabric tied around her head. It was a gift from Michael, a type of headband he called a hachimaki. It had been years since she received the gift, but she still remembered when he handed her the simple cloth.
She was undergoing the trials to become an initiate back in Chicago, near the end of Spring. The heat of Summer was rolling in and sweat was getting into her eyes, constantly forcing her to wipe them dry. One day, Michael had the headband ready for her after exploring the ruins of an old karate dojo, because he thought it would be useful for her.
As an initiate, Michael couldn’t have relied on a team of Brotherhood personnel for his small, personal errand, so Alex had been furious when she learned about the feral ghouls who occupied the ruins. She would have gone with him if he asked, but the future paladin had braved the ruins alone and returned triumphant. She remembered the joy in his dark eyes, the curve of his lips when he smiled, as he showed off the spoils of his adventure.
The trinkets he brought home were a paltry treasure compared to his life, but the hachimaki helped her slog through her long marches and had traveled everywhere with her from that point on. From Chicago, all the way to Portland. In a way, it was more priceless to her than any treasure.
Alex traced a thumb over the wings, gears, and sword stitched into its center. Finely cast steel which Michael had stitched onto the headband, before Alex had formally earned the privilege of wearing the Brotherhood’s symbol. So much thought and care had been put into one gift, something that literally nobody else in the world had done for her, it gave her the extra push she needed to succeed in her trials.
The couple nearby laughed, pulling Alex from her trance, and she left for the showers, where she could take the opportunity to clean her headband of the day’s sweat.