A Brotherhood scavenging group arrived to relieve Lance 27 and secure the electronics store. Instead of leaving, Michael chose to stay and have his squad guard the scavenging group, after Inquisitor Flores had raised concerns over their safety. Michael had allowed the original residents of the store to flee, an act of softness unbecoming of a Brother of Steel.
The scavvers could return at any moment to take their vengeance, which not only endangered Lance 27, but also the scavenging group. It would not be wise, knights were still trained soldiers with or without power armor, but the savages of Seattle showed they were willing to die in the hundreds to kill a few paladins.
Miles and Beck stood along the street, guarding the front of the store, while Choy went inside to help her fellow scribes sort through the junk in the scavver stockpiles. A small reprieve from carrying her share of Lance 27’s loot. Michael, Tobias, and Andoh went around back to guard the rear entrance.
There was a well dug in the back, with a pulley system built over it. Michael pulled the rope, turning the pulley, and lifted a wooden bucket filled with water to the top. The bucket was new compared to the other junk in the wasteland, possibly carved by the scavvers who relied on the well for water. The water was clean enough, but was undoubtedly irradiated like every other source of water in the wasteland.
“They could’ve used a water purifier.” Tobias said as he walked over. He removed his helmet, held it under an arm, and peered into the well. He looked at Michael for a moment then quickly away, as if he had something to say and thought better of it.
“What is it, Paladin Tobias?” Michael asked. With only Andoh nearby, distracted with plucking berries from a bush and eating them, now was as good a moment as any to address any concerns.
Tobias looked back to the store. “Did we have to attack these scavengers?”
“The goal of our mission was to expel the scavvers from the location.” Michael said and Tobias shook his head.
“I mean, was it our only option? These people don’t have clean drinking water. What could they have that we’d need to take from them? We could’ve traded purified water for whatever we needed.”
“Could we? We’re separated from our main forces in Portland. Maybe we’re in need of raw materials and that’s why we’re here. We can only trust that our leaders know what they’re doing.” Michael saw that Tobias wasn’t entirely convinced, so he thought to remind him of what they were fighting for. “At least we got something out of all this trouble. Those bottles and chems we found will last us a while. Maybe until we capture the airport. Until then, these luxury goods will be scarce. Worth more for barter.”
Tobias’ jaw tightened and Michael suspected that his words didn’t have the desired effect on his paladin, so he said nothing more that might offend the man. Michael dropped the bucked back into the well and wandered away. He found traces of blood along an alleyway leading to the street beyond. There was nothing in sight, the scavvers were long gone. For their sake, he hoped they would stay gone.
In the distance, Michael could’ve sworn there was movement within a patch of woodland overgrown into a parking lot. He stood in place, watching with his minigun at the ready. He considered firing into the trees, but it would cause unnecessary panic among his squad and the scavenging group in the store. There was probably nothing there.
Andoh called out as he approached. “The scavengers are ready to move out.”
“Already?” Michael exclaimed and returned to the store with Andoh and Tobias. There, the leading sergeant of the scavenging group informed Michael that they had packed everything they were able. If they were dispatched to collect anything else, it would be on another day. Several among the scavengers took the time to report movement in the ruins of White Sprawls, but Michael saw nothing. Lance 27 escorted the scavenging group back to camp without incident, to their sergeants amusement.
“It’s all just ghosts.” The sergeant said with a hearty laugh.
At the gate, the scavenging group brought their findings to the Brotherhood’s warehouse to make an accounting. Much of it was junk, wood and steel or other raw materials, but the Brotherhood took pride in its record keeping. Their consideration for minor detail is what distinguished the Brotherhood from the savage wasteland, as Dominic had once said.
Choy had joined the scavenging group to deposit the gears and other parts she salvaged from the store, while Michael and his paladins brought their loot to the quartermaster in the cafeteria. Situated behind a gate where students in the pre-war era might have purchased their lunches, now the Brotherhood’s commissary, the quartermaster greeted the squad.
As he unpacked their makeshift rucksacks and counted their collection of alcohol and chems, eyes drifted to them from their seats in the cafeteria. He checked the accounts on his terminal and found that Lance 27’s haul was so far the largest of any single squad. Half of their loot was payment of dues to be sold at the commissary, which gave everyone a chance to taste the spoils brought home by their paladins. A sizable tax, but it left the squad with more than they could have expected otherwise.
All of their chems were exchanged for credit at the commissary, a pleasant surprise for Michael that none of his paladins were interested in the mind altering substances, but most of the squad also traded in their share of the alcohol, Only Michael and Andoh kept their booze to themselves, which the quartermaster held for them, safely in the commissary’s lockers. Once their business was finished, the squad left for the engineering bay to depart their armor and shower away the day’s sweat.
Michael took a detour into the cafeteria’s kitchen, where the knights cooked food for the camp. He was an odd sight among the kitchen staff, but he was skilled enough with his power armor to maneuver without disturbing them. A woman approached him, disapproving of his presence, a knight sergeant’s shield and chevrons sewn onto the shoulder of her sleeve.
“What are you doing here? This is no place for power armor.” The woman, not holding back her displeasure.
“I’m looking for Knight Valery. Is she here?” Michael said and the woman raised a brow at him.
“Wait here.” She said and walked around a corner, calling out to speak with someone. Their voices were obscured by the bubbling stews around and the general deafness he felt under his helmet. The woman returned with Valery and the knights in the kitchen whispered to each other.
“Paladin Michael.” Valery said, remaining impassive as she glanced at the knights around her.
“I found something for you.” Michael said and Valery’s eyes widened for a moment.
“Really? For me?”
“Yes, but…” Michael reached for the pouches on his waist, but they were the wrong pouches. ”Now that I think about it, I left it in a pouch on my belt. Inside my armor. I’ll have to come back.”
“I’ll come with you.” Valery said quickly, turning to the knight sergeant beside her. “May I?”
The woman huffed and waved a hand. “Fine, fine. Just be quick about it. There are still dishes that need cleaning.”
Michael almost shrugged in his armor, but its solid construction forbade him from doing so. He left the kitchen with Valery in tow and she tried to walk by his side. It was careless of her to walk directly through his blindspot, but she told him it was “sweet” that he was so “caring”.
The words made him feel uneasy, sending a shiver down his spine. It was a strange choice of words for her to use. He simply didn’t want to squash another Brother of Steel beneath his boots. He’d crushed enough raiders under them to know how easy it was.
At the engineering bay, Michael exited his armor and checked the pouch on his belt with his bribe for Valery. “A gift.” Michael said as he handed it to her. “It’s not exactly the same as your name, but I thought you might like it.”
Valery smiled and accepted the gift. “I love it, thank you.”
Michael couldn’t help but return the smile. Hopefully, she loved the gift enough to bake something for him again, but he doubted it. The ingredients would cost her credits at the commissary to make anything on the side. His bribe was to settle any bad feelings between them anyway, having been somewhat rude in his dismissal of her in their first meeting.
“Maybe we can talk in the cafeteria after my shift is over.” Valery offered.
It was a good opportunity to ingratiate himself to the woman, but Michael’s booze was waiting for him at the commissary. He needed to bring them into his room, safely stored behind one of his own locks. The key to which only he possessed.
“Can’t. I’ll be busy.” Michael said and Valery shrugged, not put off by her second rejection as she had been before.
“Another time then?”
“When we’re both available.”
Valery nodded to Dominic, who sat off to the side with an amused look, then left to return to her duties in the kitchen. Michael seated himself near Dominic and gave the man his own keychain. “For me as well? How generous.” Dominic said with a cheeky smile.
“What’s so funny?”
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“I’m just happy for the gift. It’s got my name and everything.”
“I saw it while I was looking through this collection of keychains. I thought that I might as well bring it with me. Nice little gift.”
“I thought as much.” Dominic said, placing the trinket in his pocket. “So what did Valery do to make you so concerned for her?”
“She gave me some of her cake during the night of the celebrations. I left early, if you saw, and she visited my room to give me some.”
Dominic nodded thoughtfully. “She gave you some of her cake in your room and now you give her gifts. Interesting.”
“What?” Michael asked, not understanding Dominic’s unspoken meaning. “She works in the bakery. Is it wrong that I might want her to make me something?”
“Give you more of her cake, maybe?” Dominic said wryly.
“Sure, if she’s willing”
“Cake is good, but don’t be too open with this gift-giving to Valery. I understand what you mean, but not everyone will.”
It was a fair warning, Michael considered. Bribery was common enough. Quid pro quo, as he had learned from paladins serving under Roccaforte. It literally meant “something for something”. A useful lesson that helped him rise to the rank of paladin.
However, it didn’t mean everyone participated in this system of exchange. Technically speaking, it could be considered a breach in Codex law. It all depended on who was rendering judgment. It would be unwise to be too brazen with his bribes to Valery. Her cake would have to wait.
—
The wastelander settlement at Browns Point was neutral to the conflicts in Seattle. They owed allegiance to the Wardens, but only so far as to give them tribute in exchange for protection from raiders. A formality now, long after the Chaos in Seattle had ended, some period of turbulence in the city, and Browns Point was safe away from the raider clans further north. As Warden influence waned and Brotherhood influence expanded to take its place, this responsibility fell to them.
Abel was out of his armor, which was left near the gate, with its fusion core hanging off his belt. He stood on the wooden ramparts to lean against the parapet. Below, knights conducted a review of the settlement’s militia outside their wooden walls. They stood rank and file as knights inspected the arms and armor of each man and woman. The militia weren’t standing at attention the way Brotherhood-trained personnel might have and chatted amongst themselves, but there would be time later to train them to an acceptable level.
The militia’s captain, a gray bearded man like many of the other militia captains Abel had encountered, stood beside Abel. He cleared his throat and spoke gruffly. “They’re nothing like your metal men, but they can fight. They’ve beaten back raiders before. A lakelurk queen too, a while back.”
Abel noticed that the captain was nervous. Maybe it was his usual temperament, but many wastelanders were intimidated by the Brotherhood. Their weapons and armor made them the deadliest group anywhere they went, regardless of their recent losses. It’s why Abel left the safety of his armor, showing them the face of the man beneath it. He wanted to show the Brotherhood’s new friends at Browns Point that there was nothing to fear.
“And we will forge them into something greater.” Abel said and looked the captain in the eye as he smiled. “Just watch, partnership with the Brotherhood will be beneficial for your town. Look there, on the road. Your new water purifier.”
A Brotherhood convoy marched down the road, beside a slow rolling truck that had been salvaged and repaired at White Sprawls. Machinery was packed onto the truck bed, parts for a water purifier that would provide the settlement at Browns Point with clean water as Abel had promised. Curiously, Inquisitor Flores was among the group and she waved to Abel before helping the convoy unpack the scrap truck.
“Will it be enough?” The captain asked.
“That water purifier should be able to produce enough clean drinking water for the entire settlement. At the minimum.”
“I’ll have to take your word for it.” The captain sighed and Abel clapped him on the shoulder.
“You’ll see. Just give it time.”
Abel walked from the ramparts to greet Flores and helped her carry a heavy section of machinery off the truck. “Inquisitor Flores, am I going to like what you’re going to say?” Abel said, catching his breath. A smile tugged at the corner of his lips, happy to see his old friend, but it died before it could take hold. Flores was in a grim mood.
“Paladins hit a few scavenger groups, expelled them from their homes. Knights and scribes looted everything they could and brought it back to camp.”
Abel was dumbfounded by the outrage he was hearing. “Blair promised me they would remain untouched.”
“Whatever he promised, the scavengers were attacked as soon as you left.”
“And the people? I made promises to a few of those groups.”
“Most of our paladins had enough restraint to offer the scavengers terms of surrender. Paladin Michael gave no such terms. I counted over half a dozen dead, dumped onto the streets. The rest were lucky enough to escape, however many that was.”
“Michael.” Abel muttered disdainfully. “I’ve met him briefly and Andrews insists he’s worthy, but what do you make of him?”
“He’s an upjumped raider, no matter his name. Frankly, his Constantine blood taints him more than anything else.” Nearby, a knight glanced back at Flores, wide-eyed at her statement, before returning his attention to his work.
“You of all people should be more careful with that kind of talk.” Abel said.
“This lot can be trusted. They were our initiates, in Portland.” Flores said, gesturing to the knights and scribes that had accompanied her to Browns Point. “Something needs to be done about Michael sooner rather than later. Those dead scavengers are just the beginning.”
Abel knew Flores was right, the inquisitor usually was, but there was little Abel could do. Everything that occurred under Constantine was technically legal. It’s why many of the moderates among Lance Squadron’s original personnel were willing to overlook actions they found personally detestable.
“Can you oversee the water purifier while it’s built? Maybe I can convince Blair to redirect his paladins away from the rest of the scavengers.”
Abel left command over his task force to Flores and departed Browns Point. Alone. He marched all the way to White Sprawls with nothing but his thoughts. Caleb, and the remnants of Curly Squad, had been left behind. New paladins of worth were needed to replace the losses the squad had taken, but few were eager to join up after their defeat. Certainly not enough to be shared between squads Curly, Windy, and Selter.
The sky grew dark as dusk approached and the White Sprawls camp was illuminated by lights from within. When the gates of White Sprawls opened up for Abel, he winced at the lights. Momentarily blinded by its brilliance. When they recovered, Abel saw knights glancing at him with anything but respect. Pity, mostly, maybe even some contempt. Sabotage or not, his failure had caused the largest loss of paladins in a single engagement since Lance Squadron had left Chicago. He could’ve waited, but all signs pointed to success. Now, it was too late.
In the engineering bay, Abel left his armor for a knight to tend to it, but they were all abuzz with excitement. Discussing some new gossip with friends. Nearby, stood empty suits of power armor. They were all that remained of the friends Abel had lost in the North, after their bodies were cremated and their ashes scattered into Commencement Bay.
A knight made his way to Abel’s armor, saluting the Sentinel. “Hail, Sentinel. How was your mission? To Browns Point, if I recall.”
“The mission is still going. Inquisitor Flores is watching over my task force for me while I discuss things with the Head Paladin.”
“Inquisitor Flores? I see.” The knight said and tinkered with Abel’s armor, asking nothing else of him.
“The knights in the bay seem excited. Anything exciting happen?” Abel said, seating himself beside the knight as he worked, curious with the commotion.
“The commissary has a new stock of booze. A couple of us were thinking of pooling our credits and having ourselves a little party. One of the scribes fixed up a ham radio we could use to talk with everyone back home.”
“That’s nice. I’m sure once we’ve captured the airport, we can begin transferring personnel back and forth from Portland for leave. See family and friends, maybe take the time to relax.”
“Yes, sir.” The knight said with a broad smile. “I’ve got myself a girl back home. We were expecting when I was sent here. Our families are helping her with things, but I hope I can get back for the birth.”
“It's one of the most memorable moments a man can have.” Abel added, nodding with approval. He thought of his own children and grandchildren in Chicago. By now, the young ones had surely become squires. “So, any news from Portland? I assume the knights exchanged news from Fort Willamette.”
“Pardon?” The knight looked back, confused.
“When they shipped in the new stock for the commissary.”
“Ah, the booze was brought in from a mission. By Paladin Michael and his squad.”
Abel’s smile fell away and he glanced away. “When was this?”
“Today. They returned only a few hours ago. Paladin Michael chose to stay with the scavengers we sent out and escort them to camp. The knights and scribes were thankful for it. A few of them swore they saw wardens hiding in the ruins around us.”
“It’s important to protect our spoils, after all.” Abel asked, unable to help the bite in his words, which the knight must have picked up on. Abel cleared his throat. “Alright, I’ll leave you to your work.”
The knight nodded and smiled forcefully, returning to his work, and Abel left to speak with Blair at the HQ. A young man passed by him, eyes focused on the clipboard he carried as he walked out of the HQ. A sergeant’s chevrons were stitched onto the shoulder of his sleeve, beneath a paladin’s shield. Abel turned back, unable to comprehend the sight. All of the sergeants among the paladins were much older, then Abel corrected himself. All, but one.
“Paladin Michael.” Abel called out and Michael turned to face him with a fresh, young face
He saluted. “Sentinel Abel, sir.”
“What do you have there?” Abel pointed to the clipboard in Michael’s hands.
“New paladins for Lance 27, to bring us up to strength. Lot’s of volunteers to choose from, but I’m not sure of how to pick.”
“Better problem than not having enough volunteers, right?”
Michael smiled. “Yes, sir. I’ve been thinking of asking Paladin Andrews for help. Maybe you could give me some advice, if it’s not too much trouble?”
“I think not.” Abel said firmly and Michael’s smile faltered. “Tell me something. I heard your squad brought home the spoils of your raid earlier today. Did you have to face any strong resistance?”
“No, sir.” Michael said, apprehensive. “Just scavvers.”
“You mean ordinary wastelanders living their lives? I heard many had escaped.”
“They escaped through a rear door, but the scavvers won’t escape me again. Next time, I’ll surround them before any assault.”
Abel’s growing frown turned to scorn. Michael was learning how to become a more efficient killer. Did he have no shame that he would openly declare his intent like this? “How much of their things did you manage to take? Lots of loot to be stolen, from what I’ve heard.”
Michael’s face was blank, but Abel could see the tension in his jaws. “I performed my duty, sir.” He said, not answering the question, and Abel supposed the man had enough shame to not declare his joy. “As I was ordered.”
Abel scoffed and a frown tugged at Michael’s lips. “And you obeyed blindly. Did you consider that you didn’t have to go murdering and pillaging just because someone asked you to?”
”It’s not my place to question my orders, but Head Scribe Torland believed the scavvers possessed the materials he needed for his radios. It was a worthy cause.”
Not even 18 and the young paladin was thoroughly corrupted, enough to make excuses for his crimes. “Enjoy your spoils, paladin. You are dismissed.” Abel said and made his way into the HQ, unwilling to speak with the young paladin any further.