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Fort Charles
Just Outside of Quincy
June 5, 2293
General Nathaniel Thiel could be stationed at the same old fort for weeks filling out form after form for new recruits and boot camp graduates, but the view from his office window never got old.
It was a tradition of his. Whenever the grumbling General wakes up to have his morning coffee and read the latest political rumor in circulation from Publick Occurrences, he’d crack open the window and have a seat, taking in the sounds and the atmosphere.
It was a collection of sounds that remained absent from his life for too long.
The sound of citizens rushing to catch the next Brahmin cart to carry them off to their jobs. The sound of store doors ringing open, ready to serve the next lucky customer who walks in. And most importantly, the sound of laughter. Whether it be from a couple enjoying a meal at the local restaurant or children playing at the park or at school, it always puts a smile on the General’s lumbering face.
Laughter was something missing from this world for the longest time. It felt like a dream. Something that didn’t feel possible.
The docks were just as lively. Commercial, private, and military vessels rested in the docks shadowed by the makeshift Lighthouse was comprised of sheet metal and wood. Whether it be collecting goods or carting passengers from one place to another, these vessels were a staple in the Commonwealth’s “new society” as the locals called it. Luxuries like this were only in the realm of imagination a meager six years ago.
All of these sounds were complimented by the creaking windmills that littered the area over buildings and on the repaired overpass. Each one serves a different purpose. Water pumping, electricity, and even some bakeries and smokehouses had a few propped up over the pier.
The rebuilt Highways were also a sight to behold. Metal sheets, planks, and hand cut wood helped reinforce the new roads. A sturdy ramp sprouted upward for Brahmin carts and citizens to travel upwards towards the shops and windmills that littered the overpass. There was no area that remained virtually untouched by the public.
To the General, the sight was beautiful. It’s hard to fathom years ago, this didn’t exist. Then, the people of the Commonwealth were still fighting for survival, fearful for their lives. But now, in this new world, people could stop surviving and start living.
But it was easy to forget the rest of the Wasteland that didn’t fall under the banner of the United Settlements of the Commonwealth could only dream of these luxuries. Any and all settlements were welcome to join them. Following the Gunner War of 2290, Settlements in New Hampshire, Connecticut, and even as far as Pennsylvania and New York flocked to join the USC seeking their protection.
It was a difficult position, fighting war after war to secure the Commonwealth, but it paid off in the end. Democracy had been restored and the infant nation was a shining beacon of hope in the east.
Or at least Nate thought the fighting was over…
*Knock* *knock* *knock*
The General was knocked out of his trance and eyed the blue metal door from across his desk. The gentle knocking continued. He wasn’t all too surprised. He was expecting this.
Folding the newspaper on the coffee table, the General stood up from his living chair and paced himself to the door, unlocking the upper steel hatch, sliding it open.
“Sorry for disturbing you, sir” The woman said in a melodic voice. “You said you wanted to be notified when Colonels Shaw and Garvey arrived?
Nate grinned. “Thank you, Lucy,” he said.
Lucy Abernathy was a twenty-five year old woman. Daughter of Brahmin baron and high-profile Boston Senator Blake Abernathy, the young woman proved herself to be a fighter.
She joined ranks in 2289, following the start of the Brotherhood War and quickly proved herself to be an effective leader. After the outbreak of the Gunner War, she was put in charge of a team to take over Cambridge, which was occupied by Brotherhood forces. Several senior officers who participated in the battle commended her bravery and level headed demeanor.
Some speculated that her father’s status as Senator influenced the higher ups in the military to give her a promotion to Captain in early 2291, but these allegations were quickly shot down as political slander from Senator Abernathy’s opponents.
Captain Abernathy was just recently put in charge of a band of troops who graduated six months prior. It was a smaller job. Handling rotation duties and handing out discipline if necessary. But deep down, the young Captain craved another combat mission. Little does she know, she may soon get that wish.
Though happy to see Lucy, the General was puzzled. “I thought Major Danse was supposed to come get me. Where’s he?”
“The Major is drilling some troops in the courtyard,” Lucy replied. “He asked me to come get you.”
Nate was still puzzled. “I thought you were still stationed in the Roxbury-Jamaica Plain sector with your team” he continued. “You’re quite a ways from your post.”
The Captain kept her composure and continued speaking casually. “We’re receiving another rotation. My unit was stationed at Musket Plaza when I got a call to report back here for reassignment.”
The General didn’t think much of it. Colonel Shaw was in charge of handling squad rotations. Ever since the Gunners were subjugated, the Minutemen Corps have been awfully quiet. The only action they ever received was near the border of the Glowing Sea where the more aggressive wildlife was kept at bay. The concrete electrical fence being constructed would only do so much.
The General realigned his focus on Captain Abernathy. “I can tell you’re feeling bored with these standard rotations, Captain.”
She was surprised. “Sir?” She questioned.
He chuckled. “Lucy, I’m very good with reading people. And besides, your field reports are getting more and more bland. You forgot to date your previous two I was given.”
It was true. Captain Abernathy was feeling anxious to get back into combat. She enjoyed the peace, but she missed the thrill. This was the third non-combative military post her squad was sent to in a six month period. Surely there would be something better than this.
Without waiting for a response, the General continued. “I’ll be sure to put in a good word to Colonel Shaw. I’ll be sure your team gets a more… ‘interesting’ assignment.”
Captain Abernathy smiled. “Thank you, sir,” she replied.
The General nodded. “I’ll be down to meet Major Danse within five. You take care of yourself, Lucy.”
She grinned, relieved she wasn’t in trouble for her sloppy reports. “Thank you, sir.” She closed the steel blue door, leaving the General to his thoughts.
It wouldn’t get the General anywhere yelling at his inferiors. His goal when reforming the Minutemen was to lead by example, not with intimidation. A strict chain of command would only go so far. There was no way he would act like one of those Gunner commanders he heard so much about. Beating their men into submission, humiliation tactics, and even shooting deserters.
Turning his attention back to the cracked window, he took a look at the grand view for one final time before locking the window and closing the curtain.
His warm smile turned into a serious frown.
‘I can’t lose this’ he thought. ‘Everything we’ve built… it could all be gone in the blink of an eye.’
Of course, there was something he didn’t tell Captain Abernathy about. It was known by the personnel in Fort Charles that the Minutemen leaders would be holding a confidential meeting. The contents of that meeting were classified.
But General Thiel knew he had a decision to make. A choice with either path leading down a trail of destruction.
It wasn’t about making a choice to avoid the impending destruction altogether, but a choice that would lead to the least amount of it.
Nate examined his appearance in the wooden frame mirror mounted over the bureau adjacent to his bedroom door. All he was wearing was a gray long sleeved button up and ash gray army pants, weathered from the action they received over years of use.
Complimenting this rugged look was a 1960’s era police holster strapped to his upper right thigh and combat boots, which too showed their age. The empty holster made the experienced General visibly wince. It was embarrassing to think this, but the General felt too incomplete without his sidearm.
Remembering where he kept it, General Thiel passed the mirror and entered his bedroom. The most notable feature in the medium-sized room was the USC flag that hangs above his queen-sized bed. It resembled the pre-war American flag, but in the place of the thirteen stars representing the thirteen commonwealths was a Minuteman insignia and surrounding it was seven stars representing the seven states in the Commonwealth.
Boston, Plymouth, New Quebec, Albany, Philadelphia, Jefferson, and Far Harbor were the big seven. Albany, Philadelphia and Jefferson joined following the Gunner War.
These states consisted of lands from the pre-war states of Massachusetts, New Hampshire, New Jersey, New York, Connecticut, Rhode Island, and Maine. Some of these new USC states were named after major cities, others were dubbed the name the locals preferred, like Far Harbor for example.
A small nation with a big role in this god-forsaken wasteland. A shining beacon of hope for all. At least that’s what the USC citizens thought of it.
Nate grabbed a key laying in a landing tray on his desk hiding under a weathered lighter. Planting it into the top drawer’s keyhole and twisting it revealed a SIG Sauer P220 handgun laying inside on a small black cloth.
Holding the firearm, the steel frame appeared clean, but very worn and used. Although not the standard issued sidearm in the Minutemen, the small .45 was very reliable and saw a lot of use from the General as his preferred pistol.
Nate couldn’t help but reminisce about the day he first purchased it. By the time he arrived at Diamond City for the first time, the 10mm he carried around with him had seen better days. A Raider surprised him on his way into the city and beat it so hard with a baseball bat, it shattered the chamber entirely.
Luckily between him and the Raider, it was him.
In need of a new sidearm, Nate purchased the P220 from Arturo Rodriguez, owner of the weapons store in Diamond City. It took some hard work, but Nate eventually got the pistol into a prime condition, replacing the weathered wooden grip with a black polymer one and the frame was almost doused in gun oil.
Whoever owned the firearm before him sure didn’t know a thing about basic weapon cleaning.
Slapping the eight round magazine into the pistol, Nate placed it into the dark hickory leather holster. Sliding the drawer back in place, he grabbed a navy blue trench coat that decorated the otherwise bare manaquin that was adjacent to his desk.
Under it was a single piece of armor with the Minutemen insignia scribbled onto it. The upper right lighting bolt was obstructed by weathering and a bullet hole indentation that was noticeable. The armorers insisted to have it buffed out, but the General just scoffed. What was the point of fixing something that would just keep getting broken again?
Besides… deep down he thought the battle damage looked quite… fashionable.
Fastening the armor plate over his chest and throwing on his trench coat, Nate finished off his signature look by throwing on his single-side pinned Minutemen hat that resembled Colonel Garvey’s. He was gifted a matching one soon after he became the Minutemen’s new general by the Colonel as a sign of their new friendship.
The two had been through a lot together. The Institute, the Brotherhood, the Gunners, and Raiders. They were close friends and there was no one Nate would rather have at his side whether it be in battle or having a beer at the Union City tavern.
Grabbing his bunkhouse key, he made his way back into the common room towards the metal door that Lucy had appeared through earlier.
Before exiting, out of the corner of his eye, General Thiel noticed an all too familiar weapon that was mounted in a glass display case on the wall.
It was his signature M14 that was with him through thick and thin. The General tried to get used to the M16s that were issued to infantrymen, but he could never get used to their “kick” and they felt too awkward. Besides, he enjoyed the classics.
The M14 was the standard issued rifle for the Ranger division of the Minutemen. They were considered the best of the best and never needed the fancy scopes or the new retractable bayonets the standard USC M16 sported. Their officers were the only soldiers in the Minutemen to still carry swords.
It was good at long range and moved at Nate’s pace and he enjoyed the luxury of eliminating enemies from a further range.
The General shook his head, grinning slightly. ‘Not today, old girl’ he thought. It was just another meeting after all. He didn’t need to carry it around everywhere.
The metal door slammed shut, leaving one the General’s many cabins to collect dust once again.
————
*blam* *blam*
The gunshots fired from the shooting range off to the distance could be heard for miles. The General didn’t flinch once, probably because he was all too accustomed to the sound.
The activity in Fort Charles differed drastically from the civilization that existed on the outside of its stone walls.
Drill sergeants shouted. Soldiers grunted. Weapons fired. If the Minutemen didn’t get their hands dirty, none of the USC would exist.
‘If only they gave us the credit where it’s due’ the General groaned. Down the metal stairs he went that connected to the catwalk observing a sandpit.
In the pit was Major Danse wearing a Navy Blue Minutemen officer’s uniform and a pin up Minuteman hat topping it off.
The Major was leading a bayonet drill on some training dummies. They were dressed to look like Raiders, who were long gone from the Commonwealth. All that existed were petty, squabbling criminals who were quickly dealt with by local sheriffs and police departments.
“At the ready!” The troops lined up in formation had their unloaded M16s at the ready, waiting for the Major’s command.
“And… strike!”
At Danse’s signal, the soldiers pressed a button under the rifle’s barrel near the mag release, unsheathing a six-inch bayonet that flicked out from the edge of the mechanism. One after the other, soldiers thrusted their rifles into the dummies, sand draining from them on impact.
The bayonet devices were some of the most ingenious inventions to come out of Commonwealth President Trenton Williams’ military spending initiative. Following the Brotherhood War, it was noted that many Minutemen struggled to fasten bayonets to their rifles.
Thanks to the brilliant mind of Isabel Cruz, the former Mechanist-turned armorsmith, she presented the prototype bayonet device to military leaders for demonstration. It was sturdy, steel laced, and easily accessible. And the device was not difficult to use whatsoever.
President Williams ordered the devices be mass produced and issued to soldiers just in time when the Gunner War began. The devices were proven effective in close quarter combat. The Gunners were quickly dealt with after that. They retreated from the Commonwealth, but they were followed and wiped out in New York and Pennsylvania…
Nate remembered the battle. Very close quarters. Skyscrapers everywhere… Even with the Minutemen’s strategic prowess, good soldiers died during those three months. A memorial park was erected at the Wildwood Cemetery to commemorate the fallen troops. And even Congress suggested establishing a memorial to commemorate the Battle of Manhattan in Queens once the city’s condition has been stabilized. Senator Blake Abernathy, father of Captain Abernathy being the project’s biggest proponent
Even 200 years later, humanity still finds a way to start another war… the cost of some soldiers seemed to pay off, but to Nate… a single loss hurt him. As General, he’s in charge of the Minutemen, and having to write to a family member that their son or daughter had died hurt him…
He knew all too well what it was like to lose a child…
Noticing the General approaching the edge of the wooden fencing surrounding the sand pit, Major Danse orders the senior cadet to take over training drills. The rugged Major meets General Thiel by the gate.
“Seems like you’ve still got it, Danse.”
“Always, General…” he replied.
Nate seemed annoyed. “How long have we known each other, Danse? I think we’re beyond you addressing me by rank.”
Danse narrows his head, smirking. “Sorry… old habits die hard.”
Looking at the troops running their drills again, Nate paid close attention to their form. Right foot back, parry, and thrust. Danse and the rest of the instructors here turned these men and women into killing machines alright…
“Are you here to collect me for the meeting?” Danse questioned, taking notice of the General’s attention span.
“Absolutely,” he replied. “I am the one who called it, after all… it’s very confidential so we shouldn’t speak much.”
Peering at his watch, the General taps it. It’s 9:33.
“The meeting starts in about fifteen.” The General cocked his head, motioning away from the sandpits
“Let’s head out.” Danse left the sand pit in command of the senior officer. He unlatched the gate, leaving the soldiers to continue their drills.
The base was vibrant and loud. Rifles continued to fire in the distance, squad leaders held meetings in tents to discuss the agenda for the day’s patrols, and even a table was put out next to makeshift Humvee shelters for soldiers to play card games.
Stopping before the dirt road, the General and the Major spotted a group of two Humvees rolling down the path, kicking dust in their wake. The driver, a more built man waved at the General, giving a minor salute in the process. The General smiled back, tipping his hat.
The Humvee was one of the most advanced pieces of equipment in the USC’s arsenal. Long were the times of soldiers marching on foot gone.
It was simple to get the Humvees working once schematics were developed. They resembled the ones pre-war, but they sported a more makeshift look with sheet metal armor. On both sides the Minutemen insignia could be seen displayed with pride.
They were powered by fission batteries located in the engine block. If the battery needed changing, there was always a spare located in the back compartment. They couldn’t find a way to charge the batteries, but that was a feat for another day.
Once the Humvees had made their round, the two comrades continued on their way to the Hub, which could be seen in the distance. It was a building located in the center of Fort Charles. It was the tallest, standing about thirty feet off the ground. It wasn’t special, but it provided a secure location for Military leaders to congregate.
Two soldiers stood outside The Canteen, the Fort’s Mess Hall and served as a place for soldiers to wind down. Two male soldiers, one wearing a Minutemen Hat and overcoat, and the other wearing a navy blue flannel. Nate couldn’t help but pick up on their conversation.
“Hey, you heard a whole lot of our guys are being called back up to the Border FOB at Somerville, right?”
The man to his right was drinking from a glass, M16 slug across his back. He nodded.
“Yeah, I found out through my boyfriend. He’s being moved up there too, so am I. Why would the higher ups call in so many soldiers for border patrol? It doesn’t make sense…”
Leaning against a wooden beam, the younger man sighed. “Your guess is as good as mine, man…”
Speaking in a hush toned voice, Danse pressed the General for one more question.
“If I can speak freely… who else is going to be in attendance.”
Peering at Danse, but not slowing down, the General obliges. He trusted Danse with his life, after all. He didn’t have to be too secretive with him. After everything they’ve been through, why wouldn’t he trust him?
“Let’s see…” Nate thought. “Colonels Garvey and Shaw will be arriving from Fort Independence. They were the first ones I’ve called this morning. Oh, and Master Sergeant Hartfield and Major MacTavish are supposed to be present too.”
Passing some soldiers, Nate lowers his voice. “Almost there. Couple of clicks away.”
“Aiden… MacTavish?” Danse’s voice swayed.
The General chuckled. “I can tell you have some reservations about him…”
Not afraid to speak freely, Danse spoke up. “Major MacTavish is… respectable but his motives worry me.”
“How so?” Nate replied.
“Well… remember the attack on Gunners Plaza the year prior? The Gunner Captain he interrogated?”
“The one that came out with several different bruises? Yeah, I remember him…”
“And so naturally you’d understand why I’d have such an issue working with him…”
Nate knew what Danse was referring to. Following the nasty battle to take Gunners Plaza, now rebranded Musket Plaza, the Gunner Captain that was taken prisoner was transferred to Fort Independence for questioning. MacTavish was in charge of the interrogation.
It didn’t take more than two days to get information out of the Captain. Ribs shattered. Nose broken in four different places, and two single missing fingernails…
The General’s advisors suggested that MacTavish be disciplined as an ex Minutemen officer at the time. He was re-enlisted following the start of the Gunner war.
Officially, Nate had to issue some sort of punishment on paper. He didn’t condone the violence inflicted on the Captain whatsoever, but he knew that with Aiden’s no-nonsense attitude, he could be a solid asset for the future.
That’s why he was appointed the leader of the Minutemen Ranger Division of the military soon after the incident.
It was controversial, but the General stood by his decision. Due to Major Danse’s Brotherhood past, he frowned upon Major MacTavish’s comments towards the Brotherhood of Steel.
Even though Danse broke ranks with them and despite their discriminatory remarks towards his being as a Synth, the man still had a soft spot for his former comrades. He fought for the USC during the Brotherhood War and even turned his longtime friends Scribe Haylen and Knight Rhys to their side.
Danse fought for them, but that didn’t mean he enjoyed it. He only followed what was right and that’s what earned him so much respect from General Thiel.
Not losing pace, but narrowing his view towards Danse, the General spoke in a comprehensive way.
“Danse, I know you have your qualms about working with MacTavish. He’s done some downright questionable things, but he’s done wonders for the Ranger division, just as you have for our power armored units.”
Making their way across the wooden planks, the entrance to the Hub now in their sight, Nate stops, taking a moment to look at Danse. They stood next to an armory shelter, soldiers grinding away cleaning their weapons and blades.
“You trust me, don’t you, Danse?”
“Always” the Major said without hesitation.
Placing his hand on his friend’s shoulder, the General’s voice narrowed. “Then trust me when I say that we’re going to need you now more than ever… even if that means working with people you don’t particularly care for.” He stopped.
“Because we’re going to need all hands on deck.”
All Danse could do was nod. What could Nate possibly mean by this? What *did* he discover that could warrant a meeting to be called on such a short notice?
General Thiel and Major Danse entered the packed first floor of the Hub. Several tables and office areas were set up, including a small radio room to relay communications from their other major military outlets.
Soldiers chatted away, discussing anything that came to mind. Patrols, new assignments, their girl or guy waiting back home, and even some off-duty activities both moderate and… very, very illicit.
The General knew these soldiers would have something more to talk about in the coming hours.
Leaving the crowded lobby and heading to the elevator in a back room, the two find a Minuteman guard wearing a Navy Blue Jean-Jacket and the signature Minuteman hat. The Jacket’s upper right sleeve had a Minuteman insignia ironed on.
The guard was in his early to mid twenties and carried a wooden grip black framed Beretta M9 in his front holster. Clearly underequipped, but this was a simple guard post after all. So he didn’t need to look fancy.
Seeing the General and Major approach him, the guard tensed up but kept his cool. He saluted the two as they came up to him.
Waving him down, Nate smiled. He didn’t like it when his subordinates soluted him. Always thought it made him appear above everyone else like some sort of high and mighty figure, when in reality he was just a man. A leader, but in the end a man.
“Everyone’s waiting for you on the top floor, sir.”
“Really.” Nate was shocked. When he called a meeting, he knew his team responded fast, but not *this* fast. They must’ve sensed the urgency as much as he did…
The guard summons the elevator, pressing an illuminating button with a ‘1’ on it. In seconds, the elevator slid down the sturdy, metal shaft and opened. It was clearly makeshift, but the steel laced hull made sure it was secure.
The majority of the Fort was like this, but quality Commonwealth engineering ensured it would remain sturdy. The majority of all Iron and Steel building supplies came from Saugus Ironworks to the northeastern part of Boston.
Stepping into the elevator, the General tips his hat for the guard, before it closes with Danse and him in it.
———
The elevator ride only took no more than fifteen seconds. The metal door slid open, as the number five on the console illuminated.
The room was very wide, and hosted a long wooden table that was eight feet in length. Facing the front of the table was another large window, but laced with metal bars to keep it secure, and the green drapes were drawn to keep out anyone who would spy on the meeting.
The room was cleaned earlier today. The General could smell the bleach coming from the wooden laminate flooring. It’s amazing how quickly things came into motion when he made the announcement that the meeting would be held.
Sitting at the table were the General’s trusted advisors and friends. Without them, the Minutemen wouldn’t be as strong a fighting force as it is today.
They didn’t salute him, but one by one they greeted him. They knew more than anyone about the General’s feelings towards being saluted.
“Good to see you, Nate” a friendly voice echoed. It came from a man the General had considered one of his closest of friends, and served as his second in command. Colonel Preston Garvey stood up from his chair and hugged Nate as he passed by.
“Likewise, Preson.” The two soldiers may be ‘colleagues’ but they have long passed formalities. When Nate found him in Concord almost six years ago, the Colonel was in a very dark place. If it wasn’t for Nate’s faith in Preston’s leadership and self-worth, he most likely wouldn’t be in the place he is now. He was very hesitant to take the rank of Colonel and as the General’s top advisor, but Preston knew that a humble man’s word always meant something. Especially if it came from someone like Nate.
Breaking off the hug, Nate takes his seat at the end of the table, Major Danse sitting by his left, and Colonel Garvey to his right.
Analyzing the room, the General glaces at each of his advisors one by one.
Major Aiden MacTavish was seated right across from Major Danse, the eye patch across his left eye and his braided red hair being his most noticeable features.
The gruff, middle aged Minuteman veteran and the ex-Brotherhood Paladin paralleled in many ways if one thinks about it. Both have a relatively long history of leadership roles. Before being appointed leader of the Ranger Division, Aiden served as a leader of “The Bull’s Head” which was one of the most ruthless bands of Minutemen before they were reformed under General Theil. Preston said that if General Becker needed anything done, he went to them.
Danse on the other hand was feared, but respected. He led by example, inspiring his comrades in the Brotherhood, and now does the same within the Minutemen. It broke his heart to have to go against his former brothers and sisters within the Brotherhood, but he just followed what his heart told him. The Brotherhood would never let the Commonwealth be free. No trade deal or treaty would allow Arthur Maxson to get in the way of incorporating the Commonwealth into their empire.
Both men led by example in their own ways, and the General knew he had to have both methods channeled to his side if the Minutemen could be strong.
Down the row was Master Sergeant Ana Hartfield and Colonel Ronnie Shaw, both representing very different ages for the Minutemen.
Sergeant Hartfield wore her Brown overcoat and sported a black beret with the Minutemen insignia. She served as the former quartermaster and supply officer for the Minutemen. She joined up ten years before they were reformed. When it came to supplying troops, ammo production, and supplying bases, she was the woman to go to.
After the Institute War, Sergeant Hartfield proved herself more than worthy to handle the more daunting task of training soldiers. She was very disciplined and always strived to bolster the ranks of the Minutemen. Just in time for the Brotherhood War, the Sergeant raised the Minutemen’s ranks from 5,000 to 10,000. Nearly doubling the amount of enlisted soldiers.
To say that she prevented the Brotherhood from invading the Commonwealth by improving the ranks was a severe understatement.
In contrast, Colonel Shaw was possibly one, if not *the* longest serving veteran in the Minutemen. She was as young as 15 when she first enlisted after General McGann first became in charge in 2235. She left in 2280 after the endless infighting annoyed her. It wasn’t until she caught wind of Radio Freedom’s music blaring over her radio eight years later that she packed up her camp based in Connecticut and high tailed it back to Boston.
Her fifty plus years of experience and no-nonsense attitude proved invaluable for the Minutemen’s future. Some credit her with getting Fort Independence, or ‘the Castle’ as they call it, back up and running. The Colonel remembered the day it fell and took the task of bringing the old fort back to its former glory very personally. In a matter of months, Fort Independence once more lived up to its name with repaired steel walls and a refurbished interior.
Not just her experience, but her bull-headed attitude was what made General Thiel appoint her as the head Quartermaster for supplying the troops. Any and all shipments and troop rotations had to be approved and ordered by her. It was a hassle, but it suited her.
Satisfied and knowing that everyone he summoned is in attendance, the General breaks out a sealed folder he had stored in his overcoat, laying it to his front. The sma talk in the room ceased as everyone saw the tan colored folder labeled “CW Recon” in black lettering.
“I don’t think formalities are in order, so let’s get to business.” All of the Minutemen officers leaned into their chairs to wait for debriefing. All but one, that is.
“General, if I may,” Sergeant Hartfield raised her hand, getting stares from the other five.
“Of course, Ana,” the General replied. Despite being interrupted, he wanted to give every one of his advisors a say in this.
“The contents of that folder…” she paused. “Will they clarify exactly what happened to Captain MacCready and his team? They’ve been gone for months and we haven't even been in contact with them.”
The General knew that was true. After all, Troop rotations are ran by her before they get to Colonel Shaw for approval. The young Sergeant had a very right reason to be suspicious.
Nate cocked his head, skimming the room to meet eyes with everyone. “You all have a right to be concerned about RJ and his team. It’s time you know what’s happening.”
Exchanging looks with Aiden, he nodded at him before moving his attention back to the others.
“Around four months ago, the Secretary of State, Elias Tarrows came to me personally…”
Everyone narrowed their gaze at the General at the mere mention of Secretary Tarrows. He was a well known veteran of the Minutemen who was appointed as Secretary of State following President Williams’ election victory in 2288. The man had connections everywhere, but most importantly, he was an ido. Having helped train up soldiers and strategize for the Institute invasion leading up to the election, he was ideal for the first President’s cabinet.
“There was some… disturbing radio chatter coming from down south. The Capital Wasteland.” The General deepened his voice.
The clamoring began. The Capital Wasteland was a very hostile region. It was comprised of the Washington DC ruins, pre-war America’s Capital and the surrounding Maryland and Virginia suburbs. But there was one group that the USC wanted to keep their eyes on.
The Brotherhood of Steel.
Ever since they were driven out of the Commonwealth in 2289 in very bloody, very brutal guerilla-type warfare. It all came to a close after the Brotherhood airship, the Prydwen was shot down in a smoldering flame of ashes. The General remembered word for word the exchanges that were made by Colonels Garvey and Shaw.
——
“Good lord above. Almost makes you feel sorry for the poor bastards,” The General could hear the chill in Garvey’s voice.
“They had it coming. They never should’ve tried to play lord over the Commonwealth. That never ends well…”
——
That day still stuck with him. The Brotherhood positioned themselves as “the saviors of the Commonwealth” but the General saw them for what they really were: an invading force that had no right to interfere with the natives living in peace. They would never let the USC form or be independent. Where diplomacy failed, war solved it.
The General wished things had gone differently, but there was no turning back now… especially after what had been discovered.
The clamoring silenced, allowing the General to continue.
“Secretary Tarrows told me that President Williams was growing uneasy after the Brotherhood remnants retreated back to their central base. And the President couldn’t sleep well knowing they could very well be licking their wounds and prepare for round two. So I obliged and sent the best of the best down there…” Nate motioned towards Aiden. “Thanks to Major MacTavish’s discretion, we were able to pull this off without alerting the public.”
The “Broken Scopes” as they’re called are the most elite team of snipers and marksmen in the Minutemen, all handpicked by MacCready very candidly.
Considering the perils they’ve been through and that their leader himself was a Capital Wasteland native, The Broken Scopes were the best choice to undertake this recon operation. They left without a trace. After the Gunner war, their records had them placed “on leave,” which was far from the truth.
“We only get one strong signal from the Galaxy News Radio building located in Downtown DC,” the General continued. “Which is connected to a one way transmitter at Fort Independence.”
Pausing, the General indicated for Aiden to continue the speech he started. Nodding again, Aiden picked up where Nate left off. “After the Broken Scopes got to DC, they discovered the GNR Building occupied by a faction calling themselves ‘The Good Fighters’ who let them take shelter there. They’re in opposition to the Brotherhood as much as we are, so our interests align.”
Grabbing the tan file, the Major opens it without another question. But before he reveals the contents, he resumes his speech.
“No more than two of our men left their camp. They ensured they weren’t being followed each time they trekked back. We received these images from a fax machine we have set up through the GNR link.”
Everyone was on edge, but Danse seemed the most anxious to know what was on those images. This was the first time he heard of Brotherhood activity in close to half a decade.
The first three images laid on the wooden surface clearly showed what the military leaders had feared.
“What is that?” Ana asked, voice quivering.
“These were all taken outside the Citidel, which is what the metal heads call the Pentagon now…” Nate replied, arms crossed.
“And the most recent being three days ago, '' Aiden added. The clamoring began again, but ceased after the General waved his hand.
The contents of the file were disturbing. They were clearly zoomed in from a hill, aiming down from below. Power Armored troops were seen in the courtyard drilling away, and it couldn’t be made out, but a tent was set up on the outside which looked like a briefing. The Commonwealth map could clearly be seen, which all but confirmed that something was off.
“They’re trying to invade again…” Preston snapped. Leaning up from his chair, the young, but experienced Colonel protested. “We can’t let them set foot here! We’ve built too much to let it all come crumbling down!”
“I know, Preston…” that was all Nate could muster. He understood Preston’s jumpiness. The Minutemen and the ushering in a new era for the Commonwealth gave him something to believe in. Something to fight for. And he didn’t want to imagine what would happen if that was taken away.
The Major didn’t wait to start pulling out the next photo. He paused again, not flinching an inch. “This one was the most recent of the four. Taken just two days ago…” even in his stoic charm, everyone could hear the shakiness in Aiden’s tone. It was almost like he didn’t want to show the next image.
Mustering up the energy, he pulls out the final picture, to which everyone’s hearts sank, excluding the General, who knew of this information beforehand. Although, that didn’t stop him from leaning into his chair.
In the final image, a man in a dark trench coat could be seen exiting a Vertibird in the center of the Citidel, scars and burn marks littering his face. Looking beyond the severe scarring, he was easily recognizable.
“Holy shit” Colonel Shaw gasped, leaning in to examine the image closely.
“It can’t be…” Danse’s voice broke.
Arthur Maxson was alive and well. And this proves it.
There have been theories that the Brotherhood Elder was still alive. A body was never recovered from the ashes of the Prydwen. And the excavation crew stationed in Boston Airport didn’t find a single trace of him. The most logical assumption was that his body burned up after the artillery shells made contact with the airship. But there were still leaders that couldn’t sleep well knowing that there was even the smallest possibility that Arthur Maxson had survived…
And sure enough, he was more alive. In fact, the image clearly showed a smile that wasn’t fueled by joy, but rage. Never in Nate’s life had he imagined so much hatred and rage could be expressed in such a sinister smile.
His army had been rebuilt, and it was evident that he was coming for the Commonwealth next. He would reclaim it for “his empire” and tear everything down that stood in his wake. Reshape the Commonwealth to fit his own image.
Giving everyone minutes to process this harsh reality, Nate leans forward in his seat, now with a more serious expression than usual.
“The President is waiting for a response. Him and his cabinet are having their own meeting as we speak.”
Gazing at Danse, Nate can sense the dread, sweat starting to appear over his brow.
“What do you think we should do, Danse?” Nate asked. “You know the Brotherhood more than anyone. Their tactics, their demeanor. What’s the best course of action we have?”
Collecting himself, Danse becomes engaged with the conversation, ideas bouncing around in his mind.
“Maxson won’t ever let this go… and I think the images speak for themselves” Danse stuttered.
“It’s obvious what we need to do. We need to fight. We can’t let them come to us. There would be too much bloodshed on both fronts. But the way I see it… it’s them or us. We can’t let them touch ground in the Commonwealth. Ever.”
Colonel Shaw peered at Danse. “So what you’re suggesting is that we hit them before they hit us?”
Danse tensed up. “Exactly,” he responded, clasping his hands.
Nate knew Danse was putting a lot on the line. His reputation and his ability to go against his former comrades again. But he never forgot what Danse said to him soon after the end of the first Brotherhood War.
——
“The Commonwealth is my home now,” he said. “When Maxson left me with nothing, you came along and gave me purpose again. I’m forever in your debt, Nate.”
——
Nate trusted Danse. Over the past years, he showed his dedication to the Minutemen and the USC as a whole. If it wasn’t for him, they wouldn’t be as strong as they are now. He wouldn’t turn his back on his friend now.
“I have a few problems with that” Sergeant Hartfield butted in.
“Of course. Please,” Nate motioned for her to continue.
“The Gunner War took a lot out of our fighting force. And fighting war after war to secure these territories and arming the troops has spread us thin. We’re present in over five pre-war states including New York and Eastern Pennsylvania.” She paused, remembering the statistics. “That leaves us with about 2,000 men available to fight in a Capital Wasteland offensive. And based on those images alone, it looks like the Brotherhood has more than tripled their numbers.”
“I can see your point, Sergeant” Colonel Garvey noted. “But we can’t afford a Brotherhood offensive on the Commonwealth either. Recruiting drives are down and the people are very tired. But at the same time we can’t just lay down and let them march in here and slaughter us.”
“No one is suggesting that, sir,” Ana replied.
Before things could escalate, Nate raised his voice enough to grab everyone’s attention.
“I’ve been noticing the decline too, which is why I have a potential solution,” Nate halted, pulling out forms of troop numbers that Major MacTavish passed off to him.
“We have a little over 100 troops and reserves stationed in Far Harbor, New Quebec, and Plymouth. Those states have seen a steady decline in Raider and Mutant activity. So much so that we can afford to pull them all out and let the law enforcement offices handle things from there.”
Everyone seemed on board with that idea. But even if that did add about 300 troops to conduct a potential invasion, it wouldn’t be enough to hold ground or territories captured. The General had another solution for this too.
“Remember the old Rust Devil manufacturing belt near Fort Hagen?” Everyone nodded. They sealed it off after the Minutemen moved in to rebuild the old, aging Fort, not thinking they’d ever need to use it.
Almost immediately, everyone caught on. Reading the room, Nate continued breaking down his plan
“If we just open that up, we can have combat robots off the belt and deployed on the front lines in no time. And we still have those rogue robots that we found roaming the Commonwealth at the Munitions Depot in the old Mechanist’s Lair. That solves our troop shortage. We get about 3,000 soldiers and combat units to DC in a month.”
Everyone seemed on board with this plan, although specifics still needed to be worked out. Like how they’d cut through all that land to get to DC. There was almost the entirety of Maryland to get through. Rumors had it that it was entirely overrun by Raider gangs and Mutants alike, just as the Capital Wasteland was.
All that talk about the Brotherhood being there to protect others was nonsense and all you had to do was look at the state of the Capital Wasteland. The common man ignored, settlements left to fend for themselves. That wasn’t leadership. It was selfishness.
“I don’t hear any objections. It looks like we’ve got a plan, General” Colonel Shaw began. “But you know the costs could be massive.”
Nate sighed. She wasn’t wrong. He grew tired of the fighting, and so has everyone else in the Commonwealth. Not just the soldiers, but the people had it rough. Worrying about whether the enemy could come knocking on their back door is something they were all too familiar with, but the past six years living in tranquillity made them accustomed to this new way of life. A whole lot of fear could return. Fear of the unknown that was stoked by the days of the Institute. The Commonwealth was about to enter another dark chapter, but the question that everyone in the room asked was a massive one:
Would everything the people of the Commonwealth built crack under the pressure?
“I know we’re scared of the unknown,” Nate remarked. “We all are. But you know why I selected each and every one of you? It’s because you all are some of the strongest, most level headed men and women I have ever met. And if it wasn’t for you all, the Commonwealth and the Minutemen wouldn’t be who they are today… and we can’t back down. Not now. Not while everything we have is at stake.”
The men and women in the room were roused by General Thiel’s speech. Preston smiled. *This* was the man that pulled him from the brink. And he’d follow him to the gates of hell for any reason whatsoever. He felt like he owed him that much.
“Alright, everyone,” Nate emitted. “We need to start discussing details. President Williams is expecting a decision from us at any moment now. Let’s not keep him waiting…”
The six men and women began to formulate their plan to be presented to President Williams, who was eagerly waiting for a response in Union City. A response that would forever shape this next dark chapter of the Commonwealth’s history…
If there was one thing that these past years had taught anyone anything….
It’s that war never changes….