Chapter Text
“Got any stories from your journey here?” Ilene had asked, “Must’ve been quite the adventure, passing through so many new places.”
Jake sighed as he reminisced about the long story. It had taken him months to get from Texas to the Commonwealth. Of course - he had stories. “Yeah, anything particular you had in mind?”
There were plenty of questions she could’ve given him - about the military academy in New York or her hometown New Haven, about the Capital Wasteland - but right now she was more interested in learning one thing first: “You didn’t travel alone, did you? Can’t imagine it was easy to keep up with the caravan when you also had to find the caps to constantly hire mercenaries or get supplies to travel alone.”
Giving it a thought, he figured it couldn’t hurt to tell her, “You’re right. I knew that would be tricky. So I decided to hire a local gang.”
“Mercs?”
He shook his head, “No. Bandits. Outlaws. Thieves and murderers. But they were a special kind of gang. They would escape custody and band together to leave the locals alone and simply survive on what they could get from the threats to the local towns. In a way, the band of desperados became our border guards and bounty hunters, keeping us safe from raider gangs and other nasty invaders. They even did some vigilante work and guarded caravans. Not everyone liked them and not all of the bandits kept to the code, but they were respected for their good deeds.”
He then continued, “So… knowing this, it didn’t feel too crazy to find one particular bandit - a man who owed my father a favor. I decided to cash it in and use almost all the caps I had to convince him and a few more to help me. With everything that happened after the plant got destroyed, even they were looking to find greener pastures. And while they were a loyal group of friends, things kind of fell apart in New York. But the man kept me company all the way to Quincy, then he had to leave to take care of his friends.”
“Wow… that’s an interesting group,” she responded, a little surprised by the story. Shifting a bit on the couch to get a little more comfortable, she turned to look at him, waiting for his arm that was around her to adjust to her new position, ”What were they called?”
“The Van Der Graffs. Think the founder was someone from the Van Graff family, but they’ve been around longer than I have, so I’m not sure.”
“Mmhm… and what was that guy’s name?”
The combat was a few blocks away but it was getting quiet as she arrived. The captain had chosen the Dartmouth Professional Building because it was relatively close to Diamond City, but it didn’t mean it would be safe. Luckily, it was just a small group of raiders.
“Looks like I missed the party,” Arleigh commented as she walked up to Captain Algernon.
“You’re late,” he pointed out as he looked around at the soldiers recovering.
“Was followed by some raiders, sir. It took some time to deal with them,” she explained. “How did it go at Hallucigen?”
Checking the ammo in his magazine, the captain sighed, “We recovered the equipment and found the survivor in the camp. She’s weak but the Nightingales believe she has a chance at a full recovery.”
“So that’s at least one more soldier…” she looked around and counted the members of his squad. “There were some sightings in Quincy, but the fact that they are securing the town again might mean they are still following Wes’ orders until they get anything different from a new captain. The General said they would keep an eye on them but they don’t have enough strength to secure it themselves. …let’s see… how’s it going finding that Salvador fellow?”
“Nothing. He’s done one hell of a job staying hidden.” With another sigh, he turned to her, “We need more soldiers. But I’ve already covered most of our stations here in the Commonwealth. There’s only the group up northeast by Saugus left - if they’re still standing. How did your investigation go? Any sign of your friends?”
“No, just the one letter from Hermod,” she looked away, “I think they will be fine… but the silence does worry me a bit. It wouldn’t surprise me if they are the ones who managed to slow the Gunners down, and they do love a good fight… “die an honorable death” and all.”
Feeling the big power armored hand gently patting her back, she looked back up at her father as he assured her: “They will protect their home to their last breath. And so will we.” He then gestured over at the door leading into the ruins of the Dartmouth Professional Building, “Now, let’s head in and discuss our plans of action.”
It took them the rest of the day to work on their next steps, what locations and allies they had, what the scouts had gathered, etc. By the end of it, Arleigh was quite tired and chose to head over to Diamond City, her new mission taking her up north to hopefully find a way to contact the Gunners by Nuka-World. With what she learned from Aiden and their adventure together, she knew the transit station wasn’t the only way there - and that it was a trap set up by raiders.
It was a really short trip to the gates of the Great Green Jewel, which both she and her dog Jaden were thankful for, as they were both pretty tired. Finding their way to the Dugout Inn, she paid for a room. Jaden immediately went to sleep on the couch while Arleigh left some things before heading back to the bar.
“And what can I get you, my friend?” Vadim cheerfully asked as he prepared a glass.
“Got a cold beer - any kind - and some of that brahmin steak?” she asked and pulled out some caps from her pocket.
“But of course! Eh - just one moment,” he glanced over at a customer who rested their head on the counter, “Ey… hey, friend? You okay?”
The customer drunkenly waved a dismissive hand as if to say he was okay. But the three empty bottles of whiskey had Arleigh concerned. It was only midnight, and he was already that drunk. When Vadim got back with the steak and beer, she decided to ask.
“Can you tell me what his deal is? Three bottles of whiskey??” she put some emphasis on the liquor, as most would not have any conscience left after all that.
“Oh… poor guy,” Vadim whispered, “After the first bottle, he started mumbling something about Quincy and some kid. I do not know much else, but I keep an eye on him. I know some cowboys can take their whiskey, but this guy? Whoa-ho, he… might need help. …maybe even some help to pay his tab.”
Looking back at the guy, she did notice he wore that iconic hat she had seen in New York. Of course, he looked more genuine, like he actually came from that state far down south, with all that leather and a holstered revolver. He also had a repeater leaning against the counter with his backpack. A risky placement of his weapon when he’s drunk. But luckily, it was between his and her seats, so she could keep an eye on it for him.
When she was almost done with her steak, she heard the man wake up a bit. Looking over, she saw how he blinked at her, trying to adjust to the lighting after his nap. But he didn’t look sober yet, wobbling and having to use his arms to straighten up where he sat. Looking at her again, he took a deep breath.
“You, sir, are a fish,” he drunkenly commented.
She had dealt with drunks before. Hell, she had dealt with some really big and strong guys who liked gulping down a barrel of mead every other day. So this old cowboy would be easy.
“And you - sir - are drunk,” she calmly responded with a smile.
“Pfft… only had… three glasses,” he looked back at the bottles, “...the-these are… are not mine, they’re Dennisss’... Denny!” he looked around the room but then seemed to remember, “...oh, right… he’s not here…”
“Could Denny handle three glasses too?” she asked, taking a sip from her beer. The trick with folks this drunk usually was to talk to them like they were toddlers… not that she had much experience talking to toddlers, but she had the idea. A gentle tone asking simple questions - but not too close to baby talk.
Looking back at Arleigh, the man chuckled, “Yeeaah… he could… he could take three and then… shoot three bulls’ eyes… the cattle farmers hated ‘im…” he held a breath before bursting out with laughter.
She chuckled too, glancing around to notice a few patrons leaving. Didn’t seem they were bothered much, just seemed too tired to stay too long. Oh, how she wished she could do the same, but it didn’t go very well the last time she left in the middle of a conversation with a drunk. Besides, she couldn’t deny that she was curious about the guy.
He suddenly stopped laughing and his face got serious, “...curse you, Butch…”
“So… what brings you to Diamond City?” she kindly asked, trying to keep him away from thoughts that seemed to make him angry.
He closed his eyes and took a deep breath, looked down at the counter and back at her. He was thinking. Hesitating. But looking back at the wall in front of him, he coughed a bit before replying. “Nothin’ much. Just… trying to forget.”
“Forget what happened at Quincy?” she tried, noticing how he perked up a bit at that, “It was a long time ago, but I get it. I was also too late. …lost an old friend there. You?”
Hesitating again, it took a moment for him to respond. “...a kid. I just… just left him there. Hoping he’d be safer there than with me… I couldn’t- couldn’t even be…”
Seeing as he was about to cry, she patted his back, “Quincy was a safe place back then. I’m sure he wouldn’t want you to beat yourself over it.”
Resting on the counter again, he covered his face with one hand and started sobbing. Usually at this stage, waiting for the drunk person to be done crying and maybe fall asleep works, so she ate the last of her steak while she waited. But as she waited, the more the drunk started mumbling. And eventually, it got clear enough for her to catch a familiar name. Jake.
“Hey, what did you say? Jake?” she asked. Sure, there’s more than one Jake but… one that a cowboy knew? And that’s been to Quincy shortly before the attack? Quite the coincidence.
Sitting up again, he took a deep breath and wiped away the snot and tears. “Yea… Jake. That’s the boy’s name… Jake… Evans.”
Just as she suspected. “Heh, well, I’ll be damned… What’s your name, sir?”
“Roger. …Roger Martin. Some call me Rog… uncle Rog… Martini,” he mumbled.
“Okay. Mr. Martin, …Jake is alive. He wasn’t in Quincy during the attack,” she explained with a soft voice, trying not to startle him.
He didn’t look convinced, looking back and forth between her and the wall, as if someone stood there to catch his confused look. “Pfft, yeah, sure he is.”
“I’m serious. I talked to him this morning. He’s alive and well,” she tried with a smile.
He shook his head, “Look, boy. I’m not interested in whate’er you want to do. Just leave me alone. I… I’m not gonna fall for that trick again.”
“What trick? I’m serious, he’s from Texas, right? Friendly, good with tech, here because of some family troubles? Real name is Jacob but he prefers to be called Jake? I could send you his way if you’d like-” she was interrupted when Roger suddenly reached down to his revolver and hip-fired the ceiling. Impressive for a three-bottles-of-whiskey drunk.
He grunted as he got his arm back to the counter and glanced at her, “Shut up, boy. Before… I get angry.”
Things got dangerous, and they had the bar patrons’ attention. Vadim was hiding behind a corner, looking at Arleigh to see if he could tell what she would do next. But he wouldn’t be able to guess, and he wouldn’t like the idea she had.
She took her last sip of beer, then turned on her chair to face Roger better. “Does that mean I can’t introduce myself?”
Annoyed, he glanced at her again, looking her up and down. That’s when he noticed. The Gunner symbol. The same symbol he found in the ruins of Quincy.
“You… you’re one of them!” he blurted out with anger.
He now had a much more difficult time finding his revolver with his hand shaking with rage, which gave her the chance to slap it out of his hand as soon as it got loose from its holster. Then, grabbing him by the collar, she pulled him up and pinned him against the nearby pillar.
“I’m NOT one of THEM,” she firmly corrected. “My name is Arleigh, and I’m with the old Gunners - the good ones. I work with my captain, with the General of the Minutemen and her partner, Jake Evans, to make the Commonwealth a better place - to heal the wounds those new Gunners caused.” She paused to study Roger’s eyes and see how he seemed to relax a bit, taking in the new information. “I don’t know how much of that you understood but… sober up and go for a walk, see for yourself what Jake has been up to.”
With his feet back on the ground, he noticed how much taller she was compared to him. His head only reached her shoulders. Looking up, he tried pushing up to see if he could reach her height, but then he got dizzy and had to grab the pillar to not fall.
Looking over to the corridor where Yefim was hiding, Arleigh cleared her throat and saw him peek out from behind the doorframe, “This guy got a room?” Yefim shook his head. “You got any left?” He nodded. She sighed, went over to grab Roger’s stuff, found the revolver she slapped from his hand, and went over to help him walk, handing Yefim the caps and following his directions to the room.
Dropping Roger off at the room, she left his stuff on the couch and then headed towards the door. But he stopped her before she could open it.
“Hey… y-you better not do that again. Could get you killed. Y’know, mess with the ascot, you get your ass kicked.” He loosened the scarf he wore around his neck and started wobbling over to the bed. With one big yawn, he then leaned down… missed the bed entirely, instead hitting the floor, and began snoring loudly.
“Heh… sleep tight, Roger Martin,” Arleigh chuckled and headed out, closing the door behind her.
Heading back to the bar, she saw Vadim and the patrons come out of their hiding spots. Getting back to the counter, she got Vadim’s attention with a few more caps, telling him to give Roger the directions to the GNN building when he woke up.
Two days later, there was a rather unusual situation at HQ. A huge radstorm was rolling in, threatening the stability of the power grid. In an attempt to prevent disasters, the chief had told everyone to put on hold the projects that involved electricity. In other words, a lot of folks retreated to the recreational facilities or their rooms to enjoy some relaxing time off. Or at least as relaxing as it can be with the storm shaking the windows and howls of the wind echo through the ventilation system.
With most departments free to relax, the department heads didn’t have much to do either. As soon as they were done preparing, they found a relaxing activity - like learning how to play caravan.
Lupe, Cedric, and Theresa were in the second-floor lounge, Theresa showing Cedric how to play the card game she learned from a friend who grew up in the Mojave. While he was up for the challenge of learning something new, he wasn’t prepared for the unusual complexity of this post-apocalyptic creation.
“And the queen,” Theresa placed down the card on one of her sets, “changes the direction and the suit, so I now have to place cards that are below ten - unless they’re hearts, like the queen.”
Cedric scratched his head as he looked at the cards, “All right… I think I get it.”
“Great! So you ready to try a game?” she asked, gathering the cards she used to demonstrate.
“Yes, I believe so… just be patient, it’s a lot to remember,” he prepared his deck of cards.
Lupe stood by his side, curious about the game and eager to assist him. When he’d forget something, she would help him remember. And eventually, he won his first game.
“Nice, Cedric!” Theresa congratulated, “Shall we play for real now?”
A bit surprised, he stuttered “Th-that wasn’t a real game?”
“I was going easy on you, I barely attacked your caravans,” she turned her hand to show three jacks. “But you seem to get the hang of it now. So shall we play again?”
Cedric seemed to hesitate like he didn’t find it as fun as he hoped, so Lupe perked up and offered to take his place. He appreciated it, saying he’d rather work on a little project he had in his quarters. So, thanking them for a fun time, he left, leaving them alone in the lounge to play a game of caravan.
A few minutes later, Theresa placed down one final card with a smile, “That’s three caravans sold.”
“Oh darn it! I was so close!” Lupe exclaimed before they both chuckled and gathered up their cards.
“What are you two playing?” a familiar voice asked.
Turning to the balconies overlooking the atrium, they saw Philip and Ellis arrive. Lupe was surprised to see them, not remembering Ellis writing about visiting, so she sprung up from her seat to greet them. “Hey! What are you guys doing here?”
“Remember that raider I wrote about in my letters?” Ellis started, “Well, we managed to help her recover and she’s able to talk normally again. But Fiona spoke with Cassandra about the strange symptoms and we think she should make an examination here too.”
“And now, with us arriving just in time before the storm,” Philip added, “it looks like we’ll have plenty of time to catch up and have some fun! Speaking of, did I hear caravan?”
“You sure did,” Theresa said as she shuffled the cards. “You know the game?”
“Caravan, Blackjack, Roulette - been playing ever since I was old enough to gamble in New York!” he happily sat down by the table, “Broke record for being the first ten-year-old to get banned.”
Just as they got started with the new game, the door to the balcony opened and a guard entered. That eerie rumble from the storm followed him until he closed the door behind him. “Yup, that’s one scary storm! Time for a break.”
“Hey, Fergus!” Theresa greeted. “What orders did Aiden give you guys?”
Walking over to a chair, he sat down and removed his helmet, “Continue with our regular schedule until the backup generator is online so we can rely on the cameras a bit… but we’ll still need to take turns patrolling.”
“That sounds so cruel,” Lupe pointed out, “you still have to patrol in this storm?”
“It’s not that bad. …yet,” he assured, “My ghoul colleagues have been kind enough to sign up for the worst shifts. There’s the risk of roaming hordes of ferals or other radiation-comfortable beasts making their way here, so we always need someone on patrol.”
“Sure, but it’s still a pretty big storm,” Ellis pointed out. “Even creatures prefer to take shelter over roaming around… which I guess they could also be after if they are approaching the building…”
“Exactly.” Fergus glanced over at Theresa and Philip, “…you guys are playing caravan? Dibs on playing against the winner!”
Meanwhile, down in the medical wing, a group of engineers prepared a backup generator for the medical equipment - specifically a machine Cassandra used to create a batch of sedative gas. It was experimental and a big batch, so they needed the machine to stay powered to contain it properly and under the right conditions. While her team prepared the rest of the equipment for the storm, Cassandra examined the newly arrived wonder of medicine.
“So you think this concoction of chems had your body… reset?” she asked as she checked the results of the Vit-O-Matic scan.
“Y-yeah… I don’t even… f-feel any withdrawal. Or veisalgia,” the raider explained, “…wait, how the f-fuck did I know th-that word? …the m-mentats?”
“Yes, that could be it,” she made some notes. “And you were able to think more clearly after a Nuka Cola?”
“Mhm, th-they t-t-t-told me I’d… have low blood sugar after… not eating much ‘n… it c-co-could be dangerous,” she stuttered. “But hey, they nice… if I had died, I know they would’ve… told me not to do that again… heh… would be pretty dumb, huh?”
“More than stupid. It’d be a waste of soda,” Cass smiled. “Alright, you should get some sleep. Don’t leave your bed, just shout if you need anything. And maybe try writing down whatever you remember using in that concoction. I’d love to learn more about this.”
Saluting the Nightingale, the raider was about to lie down on the bed when she remembered something, “Oh! Something… Athol? …or was that… my name… Oh, yeah… that is my name. Athol… wh-what a weird name…”
“Well, it’s good to remember that too, so I can stop calling you “raider gal” all the time,” Cass smiled, “Rest well, Athol.”
It was getting scarier by the minute. It seemed fine when she was in Oberland Station, but she was walking towards the storm, hoping to reach HQ before it got too dangerous. Even Dogmeat sensed something wasn’t right when she had to stop in a train car for another pill of rad-x.
Ilene doesn’t handle radiation very well. Which is one hell of a weakness to have in the wasteland. Each thunder that came with a dose of rads sent a strange sensation through her body like it was cramping. And the increasingly heavy rain made it all worse.
She needed shelter before she could pop open a refreshing beverage, a brew that Curie helped her make. It was much easier to use than a radaway, and it gave her a nice boost of energy to help her body recover.
The HQ was within sight, but she didn’t want to push herself. Even Dogmeat tried pushing her in the direction of the nearest building. Fallon’s Department Store.
So close to home, but this is what happens when she signs up to do things out of the goodness of her heart. Arleigh had contacted her from Sunshine Tidings, having gotten stuck there because of the storm. She had told Ilene about a man she met in Diamond City, an old cowboy who knew Jake, and was told where to find him a couple of days ago.
This is why Ilene went to Diamond City to learn what Vadim had told the old man, then used one of the whiskey bottles to give Dogmeat a scent, tracking the man to Oberland and down the tracks toward HQ. And now, her canine companion had abandoned that search in favor of keeping her safe. So they had to find shelter in the old mall she and a few others cleared of Super Mutants months ago, and kept an eye on since. It’s hopefully still empty.
Entering the building, she looked around and could only hear the same old creaking sounds of the old dilapidated temple of commerce. Glancing to the left, she smiled as she noticed the ASAM poster on the wall. Before the war, she never expected them to become this big of a deal.
There were no signs of life in the building, only the remains of what once was a Super Mutant hideout, bags of gore still hanging from the ceiling and spread across the floor. The smell was horrible, so she kept Jake’s rebreather mask on, which made it easier to deal with. She kept looking around, but not even Dogmeat could pick up anything, happily following her past the escalators and to a hole in the wall.
It led to the utility tunnels, and through another hole in the wall, they entered a small office. The coast seemed clear, so she sat down on a chair and got out her refreshing beverage. She was covered with water from the rain, but her jacket was waterproof enough to keep her from freezing. After a few big glugs, she felt much better and contacted Jake.
After a moment, he responded, the storm making it a little unclear but enough to make out what he said, “Hey there, Darlin’! How are you doing?”
“Hey, Jake,” she greeted back, “I didn’t make it back in time, had to dive into Fallon’s to deal with the rads. But we’re fine. And you?”
“We’re almost done stabilizing the power grid… and in the nick of time,” he sighed. “I don’t know if you saw it but the clouds coming in from the Glowing Sea look like they’re straight from hell! I’m glad you found cover in time. You should stay there until the worst of it is over.”
“You sure? I can make a run for it,” she pointed out. “It’s just a couple of stone throws away.”
“Or one stone throw for a Behemoth,” he pointed out, starting to sound like a concerned father. “I don’t want you to take that risk when you’re sensitive to rads, the rain is so heavy, and our defenses are so low. At least if something happens in the mall you have some cover and several exits to escape through. Just take it easy and keep me updated, alright?”
She chuckled. It was really sweet of him to be so worried about her, but there were several ways for them to go out and fetch her, maybe send one of the ghouls with a suit of power armor and let her use it to walk back or get all the guards to focus on the front. Even if she would get hurt, they still had one of the most advanced hospitals in the wasteland right there in the atrium. But like he said, the storm was getting much worse. …and Dogmeat seemed to have found something.
“Alright, I’ll stay put,” she replied with a smile and held the Pip-Boy a bit closer to speak more warmly. “You better be careful too. And I hope you get to enjoy some of that free time. …see you soon, partner.”
“Yeah, see you soon,” he used the same warm tone, “take care, Ilene.”
Turning off the radio, she sipped up the last of the beverage before getting up to let Dogmeat lead the way to what he discovered. Entering an area full of shelves and mannequins, her canine companion began sniffing around until he turned a corner to one of the shelves and stared at something further down the room.
“What is it, boy?” she asked as she approached. Some noises from behind one of the shelves had her understand that they weren’t alone. To be on the safe side, she pulled out her pistol, “Who’s there? Put your hands in the air.”
A pair of gloved hands reached up from behind the furniture. Walking over to where Dogmeat was, she saw a man who fit the description she got from Arleigh. Middle-aged, dark brown hair, a rough beard, and a large scar on the side of his face - or like Arleigh summarized it, a raider who lived long enough to retire and chose not to shave for a few months. What a coincidence. He must’ve sought shelter too.
“Alright, you can get up,” she holstered her weapon.
“...that mean I can stop keeping my hands in the air? I need them to get up,” he asked and waited for Ilene to chuckle a yes, “Just playin’ it safe, you know.”
Roger got up and sat down on the shelf he hid behind, then turned to glance at her, but said nothing.
“You must be Roger Martin,” she started.
“Yup, that be my name,” he simply nodded and glanced at her again, “...what’s yours?”
“I’m Ilene Ward. My friend Arleigh told me about you. I’m guessing you’re that desperado who helped Jake get here.”
“...the rat. He told people?” Roger shook his head.
“Just me. We’re good friends,” she assured him.
“Heh… sounded like you’re more than that. Partners?” Glancing up at her again, he noticed the rebreather hanging from her neck. “And he gave you that old thing? …and them settlements… what has the boy been up to?”
She smiled and glanced around to search for good seats, “If you’d like, I can answer that question. It’s a long story but… it’s not like we need to leave anytime soon.”