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Chapter Text

Cassian Stern awoke with a groan, as he sat up from the cold metal floor.

Waking up sore was always the part of going through Unity he hates the most.
Yes, his body was broken down to its most basic components and scattered across whatever reality he was in before, but he never felt anything from that.
But waking up in a new body, in a new universe?
For some reason, he was always sore afterward, even if he had taken the time to rest and recover after the fight at the Buried Temple. Hell, one time he spent an entire year after the fight, just recovering on Paradiso, because he could.

Groggily, he stood up, putting a hand on the wall to steady himself. the wall he put his hand on, however felt wrong. Not the cool metal of a starship interior like it should be but like old, dusty concrete….
Cassian blinked a few times, as he finally looked around at his surroundings, taking in the sights for the first time.

“Oh, this cannot be good”, the newly awakened, yet old, Starborn muttered aloud as he looked at his surroundings.

Rather than seeing the Starborn ship he normally saw up on awakening from Unity, Cassian saw concrete walls, cracked, dusty, and with holes in several spots. Looking around the room, he saw what he could only assume were computer terminals, but they looked far older than anything he was used to seeing, even older than the computer stations in the ruins of NASA on old Earth.
Taking stock of himself, Cassian patted his body. He was wearing his Starborn gear, the suit’s cloth outer layer long since tattered and loose, which is normal, given how many times he had been through Unity. As for weapons, none, as always. He groaned, eternally frustrated with that constant status. Would it kill the universe to give him a gun on wake up?
Then he remembered the Seal. Reaching into a pocket hidden under the cloak of his suit, her pulled out the Seal, a disc made of a strange metal, warm to the touch, with angry glowing runes carved into it. He found this thing, as well as the armor and sword it was associated with on his….tenth time through Unity he thinks? It gets hard to remember exactly. All he knows is that it’s the key to Armor and the Sword he found, seemingly able to call them instantly to him.

He put the metallic disc back in his concealed pocket. He would rather not use that if he could help it. He felt…. Wrong? Dirty? Tainted? It was difficult to describe. The voice that spoke aloud, shaking the ruined research tower he fought those… demons would best describe them, said the armor and weapon were not his to claim, but he would carry them for a while, until their owner reclaims them.
Cassian left the room and started to take stock of where he was. It was obviously some kind of laboratory, from the equipment and skeletons wearing labcoats, you would have thought the fabrics would have rotted away when the flesh did. Whatever they were researching, it had to be important, some of the skeletons were clad in what was obviously military style uniforms, but not Freestar, or UC, not from any mercenary group he recognized.
He searched the bodies, looking for any sign or weapons or armor her could use. A few of the skeletons had what appeared to be wrist mounted computers, yet the devices had long since ceased functioning.

Finding a dilapidated stairwell, Cassian started to explore upward, having found no exit, not even windows, on his level, so he was either underground, or the floor he was on was secured.

Cautiously, Cassian climbed the steps, they looked like they would give way at the slightest misstep.

Many of the other doors in the stairwell were jammed shut, he couldn’t tell if it was from whatever damage the facility took warping the frames, or from debris on the other side.

Eventually, he climbed to a landing, landing number 6 since he started his climb, that had an open door. Looking through, he saw a dimly lit hallway, the lights flickering or burned out. Walking into the hall, he noted several rooms off to the sides, offices by the look of them, that were inhabited either by skeletons or only dust.

Walking the silent hall he eventually came to a fork, 3 other passages leading either deeper into the facility, or to an exit. He still saw no windows, so he assumed the building had to be a secure facility, or he was still underground.

Deciding to take the left-hand fork, Cassian walked on. Only the sounds of his own breathing and footfalls breaking the silence.
Finding a door to his left he opened it, revealing what looked to be a barracks room, rows of bunks and old footlockers that were…. Was that wood? Wooden footlockers?
Cassian had seen wood used for crates and such, frames and the like, but never in military facilities for storage of gear.
Opening the first locker he found military fatigues, in curiously good condition other than a layer of dust, a combat knife, with a still sharp edge, and a pair of mirrored sunglasses.

Looking around to ensure he was still alone, making sure no critters were sneaking up on him, Cassian focused on his suit going away. In a shimmer of starlight, the Starborn stood in the dusty barracks naked. While he did understand the concept that those like him couldn’t bring anything with them through Unity, save that demonic Seal, he still hated the fact that they wore nothing under their Starsuits upon first waking.

Quickly Cassian put on the uniform, noting it was missing any rank insignia or other identifying marks. Which, he thought was a good thing, he did not want to be confused as a member of a group when he wasn’t. Unless the olive green and military style marked him as a member. Cassian was actually rather lucky the uniform fit so well, including the boots and socks, he didn’t bother putting on the briefs that were also in the footlocker, wearing someone else’s pants and socks was one thing, but you never wear another’s underwear.

After getting dressed, he was enveloped in the shimmer again as he donned his Starborn suit. He checked the other footlockers, looking for any supplies or weapons, finding only a switchblade. The mechanism for the small weapon still functioned smoothly, flicking the blade out with a small snikt (what word would that be for that sound?). Now he was armed, outside of his combat Star born powers….

Wait….do his Starborn powers even still work correctly? This was a new universe, he came here through Unity, obviously, but so far things have been so different.

Closing his eyes, he focused on the tingle he usually feels when operating one of his most useful powers, Grab Dash. Now with that ability selected, he activated it.
He shot down the hallway like usual, but when he stopped he let out a gasp. His entire body was sore, muscles burned and lungs felt like he just ran a mile under heavy gravity as he double over, breathing heavy. What the hell?

Using his powers never hurt before, made him dizzy, sure, but after repeated uses he got used to that, but never pain, never exhaustion.

Taking a couple minutes to compose himself and catch his breath, Cassian stood on shaky legs and looked down the hallway, where he stood before activating Grav Dash. Where he stood was a series of cracks, like something hit the floor with force. That was new too.

What was this cycle through Unity? He wasn’t on a ship, his powers hurt him, and the tech, was nothing like he had seen it looked so old. Questions for when he found his way out of these ruins.

On shaky legs, Cassian continued his walk, now with a limp on his left side. Seriously, he couldn’t be this out of shape could he? He never over ate, he preferred to run or walk on the various planets he explored, rarely using the rover unless the planet was clear of vegetation and had hazardous conditions he did not want to take time walking through.

Eventually, after what felt like hours of walking through the ruined halls of this building, Cassian found a set of metallic double doors, barely holding together with the amount of rust and damage. Through the cracks, he could see light, natural, sunlight. Tiredly, he pushed the doors open, surprised his hands didn’t destroy the wood on contact, and saw the landscape of whatever world this was.

He stood there, breathless, not from beauty, but from shock. The world outside the building he had awoken in was ruins. Blasted and dilapidated roadways, even what looked like a highway towering high above the ground. A city scape was clearly in view, but non of the buildings looks habitable, entire sections of them blown away by what had to be massive explosions. What sparse vegetation he could see was dark and twisted, half rotted trees and near dead grass.

“What could have done this? What world is this?” outside of New Atlantis, Neon, and the ruins of Londinion, Cassian had never seen a city like this. This looks like a warzone he had seen pictures taken of during the Colony Wars, but even then, the cities were eventually bombed into complete rubble, no buildings left standing, or they were eventually repaired and rebuilt Even Londinion, the city decimated by the morphs, was still mostly intact and serviceable, only the dangers of the morphs kept reclamation attempts from succeeding.

This, this city scape looked like whatever happened, happened a long time ago.

Taking a glance at his heads-up display, thank whatever happened to him during Unity allowed him to read the Starborn script, he noted that the radiation levels were elevated, nothing harmful at the moment, but could be dangerous if he found pockets of it. The air quality wasn’t very good either, but breathable. He also noted his clock switched to a standard UT 24 hour clock, so either his suit recognized the planet, or it defaulted to his standard on an unrecognizable world.
Scanning the horizon for any other signs of life or civilization, he noted a few smaller developed areas, maybe, nothing as big as the city, and a few isolated small columns of smoke.

He figured his best bet would be the smoke, either he would find some kind of burning gas, or a settlement that was either cooking outside, or manufacturing something.

As he lifted his foot to start his trek towards what he hoped was civilization, to people, he stopped.

He heard something, something faint, something familiar.

Turning towards the sound, he saw a crater, with part of the building he was in collapsed into it. How did he miss that?

Cassian walked towards the crater, following the all to familiar sound of Unity, the song he, and every Starborn hears when they pull an artifact and touch it for the first time. Approaching it’s edge, he saw the familiar light, and the artifact song grew louder.

Taking his time, being careful of his footing, Cassian made his way into the center of the crater.

When he reached the bottom, he looked down, and reached into the light. While the light was familiar, the call, the song, the artifact wasn’t right. Too small, an entire circle instead of the slightly curved shape they usually are, it looked like a ring. But the shape didn’t matter, the song mattered. The song meant the Armillary was here, while smaller, it meant he could go through Unity, he could leave this world eventually.

His hand closed over the ring, and his mind was filled with the all too familiar sight.

Black space, filled with stars, the haunting, wordless music.

And then he woke to something licking his face. Groggily, he pushed at whatever was licking him. He never passed out like that before when collecting an artifact. Maybe something was different, obviously, using his powers hurt, and this world was completely different than what he was used to.

Sitting up and blinking, Cassian saw what was licking him…. What the hell was this thing?

It looked bovine, but it had two heads, two heads with mouths, a little fur, and skin that looked… melted in places.

Whatever it was, the thing mooed at him, which caused Cassian to back away a bit.

Then he heard the all too familiar sound of gunfire, and it was close, closer than Cassian would like.

One of the animal’s heads nudged him, as if trying to push him towards the sound, while the other head motioned towards its back .

The creature was carrying a large pack of supplies, like it was a pack animal, it probably was. On the side of the pack was a rifle.

Cassian was able to get the weapon free, testing it's weight. The model wasn’t one he was familiar with, but a gun is a gun From what he could tell, it was a semiautomatic rifle, small magazine with 20 or so rounds.

The animal nudged him again, towards the gun fire. Cassian may not speak animal, but he could tell when a domesticated animal was asking for help, and as he has learned in his travels, helping those who ask usually earn him a favor or two.

Slinging the weapon across his shoulder and pocketing the artifact ring he still had in his hand, the Starborn climbed out of the crater. Time to go help the locals, maybe learn where he is.

As he climbed, Cassian felt something he hadn’t in a while, a feeling he silently craved after so long living the same repetitive path over and over again.

He was excited for this new world.

Chapter Text

Cassian ran towards the sounds of gunfire, the strange two headed creature following, keeping pace with the Starborn, despite its large load of containers on its back. Cassian barely spared a thought about the creature, he was too focused on running.

The landscape was broken up with rocky debris, his footing slipping every now and then as he ran. He debated using Grav Dash again, but he wanted to avoid anymore complications from using his powers.

After a few minutes, Cassian reached a hill with a shallow incline. He debated rushing to the top, however he wasn’t sure what he would see, or how the locals would take to the sight of him, with his Starborn armor still active. Reluctant to shed the armor, Cassian crouched and began to creep to the top of the hill. As luck would have it, or maybe design, he wasn’t entirely sure, when he stopped moving, a cloaking unit installed in this version of the armor activated, turning him invisible.

He crept forward, readying the rifle. As he reached to top of the hill, he noted the other side was much steeper, almost a sheer drop.

He also saw the source of the gunfire. Two groups were firing at each other from cover. One group looked like civilians, their outfits little more than cloth, a few among them were wearing some armor of a fashion, metal plates strapped together, some military looking pieces, even some leather coverings, but not much, and near them were more of these two headed pack animals. The animal were laden with big pieces of cargo, crates, chests and bags, probably slowing them down.

The other group, well, they weren’t spacers or pirates, given the lack of space suits, but Cassian recognized a gang when he saw it. The second group attacked the first with no coordination, their armor and outfits looked like rusty bits of metal welded together strapped over either bare skin or black leather attire. They yelled out and hollered battle cries that were more for intimidation than any real strategy. The one advantage they had over the defenders was numbers, and sheer volume of weapons fire.

Taking a breath, Cassian sighted down his rifle, iron sights, while not his preferred aiming device, he worked with what he had. Pulling the trigger, slowly, methodically, Cassian took down the attackers one at a time.

First, he sighted on the one he assumed was the leader, standing at the back of the group, shouting orders. One squeeze of the trigger, the rifle report loud, the recoil a bit inconvenient, and the Leader’s neck spouted blood like water from a fountain.

Next, Cass took aim at those in the back of the attack, thinning out those who would take command when their leader’s death was noticed.

Each trigger pull brought down an attacker, he got at least 10 out of what was probably about 25 down before they noticed they were being picked off by long range fire from the side of the conflict and took cover. They were so slow to react to his fire that he had to assume they didn’t hear the rifle over their own noise. What remained of the attackers scanned for him and fired off rounds in his direction.

Cassian smiled behind his helmet, by the time they found him, if they did, it would be too late. The defenders decided, now that their attackers were taking cover from fire from a different direction, now would be the perfect time to launch a counter attack. One of the defenders charged the attackers, wielding what looked like a wooden bat with nails, swinging wildly at an attacker behind cover. That caused a panic to go through the attackers, as the defenders quickly brought the fight to them.

Soon, after a few seconds, the attackers were routed, dead or bleeding out, none had the chance to run. Cassian focused, causing his Starborn armor to vanish as he stood.

Slinging the rifle, he slid down the slope, being sure to be loud and obvious, but as non-threatening as possible. The two headed creature that guides him to the firefight trailed behind him.

Hearing him approach, the defenders raised their weapons, Cassian held up his hands to show he had no violent intentions “Whoa, easy there, I don’t want any trouble.”

The defenders, a raggedy looking group of men and women, and one person who looked like they had their skin melted off, kept their weapons trained on Cass, until that two headed creature that followed stepped in front of their guns, blocking aim on the Starborn.

“Dang it, Pepperoni, where the hell did you run off too? You had all the ammo, you dumb animal.” One of the defenders yelled out as most of them lowered their weapons, one, a young man, kept his gun trained on me.

“Guess this critter belongs to you?” Cassian asked, keeping his hands up.

The leader of the group, and older woman in what looked like an old cowboy hat, and a faded pink dress, with boots stepped forward. “Yep, their names Pepperoni, guessing she guided you our way?”

Cassian nodded as he, slowly, unsling the rifle and set it down. “Yes ma’am, figured it had to belong to someone. I’m Cassian Stern”, he said, as he extended his right hand towards the woman, keeping his left raised up.

The woman took his hand and shook it “Morgan Coe, this here is my convoy. What brings you out this way?”

Cassian paused at that. Coe? Morgan Coe? Sam Coe never mentioned a Morgan in his family tree, not throughout the many lifetimes she knew the man, or woman, if that one universe where everyone’s genders were swapped counted.

“I….. I’m not sure, to be honest, I’m not even sure where I am.” Cassian responded as the woman left his hand go, deciding to be honest about that.

“He is probably with them raiders that hit us, Ma” the young man who still had his weapon up said. A young man who had a passion resemblance to Sam now that the name Coe was mentioned and Cassian was paying attention to it.

“He ain’t, Sol, if he was he wouldn’t have fired on them when they had us. Also, he’s too clean to be a raider” responded one of the other caravaners, one who was taking cases off of Pepperoni and the other pack animals.

Sol. Sol Coe. Solomon Coe maybe. This was a turn. Cassian had never met the man, never actually went back to when he could have. If this young man was Solomon Coe, a young Solomon Coe at that, then that means….. crap. Unity may have not just sent him to a different parallel universe this time. Unity may have sent him backwards on time. Which means…. This could be Earth, an Earth before Grav-drive technology was discovered.

But…. That couldn’t be. Earth wasn’t devastated like this until the Grav-drive technology stripped away it’s magnetosphere. But…. He could breath, these people had obviously survived, so the magnetosphere wasn’t gone.

Cassian shook his head, trying to wrap his mind around this.

He needed a plan, needed to find out what was going on…. So he decided to go with the most sensible option.

“Have room in your caravan for one more?”

Chapter Text

Nate woke up. He spent a few minutes looking up at the cracked ceiling of his home. The house he once shared with his wife, Nora, and their infant son, Shaun.

Now, over 200 years, many, many harrowing adventures, and doing what he could to secure a future for the people of the Commonwealth wasteland, it was still the same ceiling. Still the same house, but different people now sharing it with him.

He had Shaun, or Shay, as he came to call the boy. A “gift” from his Shaun, who had grown up under the tutelage and guidance of the Institue. Shay was a synth, made to look like Shaun did when he was about 10 years old. A model 4 series, meant to be indistinguishable from humans.

It’s been 2 years since he took in the boy, and he has grown. Shay was bright, inquisitive and curious about life in the Commonwealth, but he had… moments, where he would just stop, and look straight ahead, almost in a daze or deep in thought. Then the boy would shake himself out of it and return to normal.

Some of Nate’s own companions say they had noticed him do the same at times. Just stop and stare, Nate assumed that was a condition of his service in Alaska, a mark of PTSD he had suffered, but there could be another explanation.

DiMA, an old synth he had met, on one of his adventures, one that brought him to Far Harbor, was convinced Nate was a synth…. It’s a possibility,but one mate refused, and still refuses to truly entertain.

If he was a Synth, that didn’t matter. He was Nate, the one who helped rebuild the Minutemen, and forced Preston Garvey to take on the role of General. The man who helped the Railroad find and free other synths that did not want to slave away for the Institute.

He also lead the Institute into a new age, one where they help the Commonwealth and it’s people, instead of trying to exploit and replace them.

It had taken a lot of work, convincing the Railroad and the Minutemen to work with the Institute, but not as much as it took for him to convince those in charge of the secretive society living underground to give up their old way. To stop trying to steal away every genius birthed in the wasteland, but rather help the peoples that lived there thrive.

It took another enemy, the Brotherhood of Steel, to truly convince the 3 factions to work together.

The Brotherhood, under Elder Maxson, were poised to wage war on the Commonwealth, aiming to wipe away all advanced technology they didn’t control, and everyone they deemed as corrupted. This meant the Institute and their creations, even the synths that ran away through the Railroad. The Minutemen, seeing the threat to the settlements that used technology to thrive, and the non-feral ghouls who lived among the humans, sides with us.

It took a long time, multiple skirmishes against the Brotherhood and their power armor wearing fighters, but the Commonwealth Alliance won out in the end.

Then, the real work began, rebuilding the Commonwealth, or at least making it safe. The three remaining factions, working together, quickly cleared out most, if not all, of the dangers in Boston and it’s surrounding areas.

The Railroad, using its network of outposts and scouts, easily identified and found Raider strongholds, Super Mutant base camps, and other dangers. Then the Minutemen, supplemented by Institute Coursers and tech, moved in and cleared them out. What should have been years of struggle for any one faction, became a task that lasted only a few months.

Nate got out of his bed and stretched, he could reminisce as he got ready for the day. From his room he could hear Codsworth, his Mr Handy robot, busying his self with cleaning and cooking. One of the few things from his old life, before the bombs, that Nate was happy survived to present day. Moving about his room, he quickly put on some clothes, and went to the kitchen.

Since settling down finally, the war for the Commonwealth over, his home had become much more crowded. A long with Shay, he also had his companions, his friends he made during his journeys.

Piper, the self made journalist he met while trying to gain entry into Diamond City. She was absent this morning, having gone off towards the Nuka World settlements, chasing a story about caravans coming out of the west for trade.

That was Piper, always chasing the story, the next big scoop. Getting word out there of the truth of wrongs she has seen. While she was skeptical of working with the Institute, what with their habit of kidnapping and replacing people, she did come around when Nate gave her access to every level of the facility, and instructed the people, his people, to hide nothing about the crimes they committed or the projects they were working on.

Nat, Piper’s little sister, and defacto newsie of the paper Publick Occurrence, was seated at the kitchen table, pushing around her breakfast of grilled radstag. In the years after the war, she took had grown from the young girl he had met to a teen, with all the angst that came with growing up in a ruthless world, but being forced to stay behind where it’s safe.

Cait, the Irish brawler he had picked up from the Combat Zone, was leaning against the counter, sipping a cup of tea. When he met her, the woman was fighting for her life, or so it seemed at first glance, in a cage against a Raider, while others watched. She was a great fighter, preferring to swing a weapon instead of fire one. When Nate first met her, she was an addict and a drunk, coping mechanisms she picked up to deal with her messed up past and life.

After Cait realized she could trust Nate, she confided in him her past, and how she wanted to get clean and sober. Going on a harrowing journey, because no other method she tried would work, they made their way into an abandoned Vault. In the Vault was a device that could purge from a person’s system any and all drugs, as well as instantly treat the withdrawal symptoms.

The treatment wasn’t perfect, there were still days where Cait felt the need for… something, but those days were few and far between.

And to Nate’s dismay, Preston Garvey, who is now the General of the Minutemen, was leaning against the counter with Cait.

Nate had to force Preston to take the job as General. Much like how Preston himself forced Nate to bare the mantle. Preston felt he was unqualified, Nate countered that Preston had mentored him and pointed him in the direction of missions, much like a General would.

“Morning Cait, morning General Garvey” Nate greeted his guests as he opened his fridge, little more than a cabinet nowadays, and grabbed a bottle of purified water. “To what do I owe the pleasure of this morning visit? I was planning on heading to the Rocket and helping Isabel with some new units for a couple of settlements.”

Nate spent his days now working on machines, a hold over of his days in the Army before the bombs. Isabel Cruz, the former mechanist, worked with him, but she preferred to stay at the Red Rocket Workshop than settle in Sanctuary.

“Got word from a few caravans coming out of the western Wastelands. Raiders have been harassing anyone coming towards the Commonwealth, guess they are still sore about you kicking them out of Nuka-World that they are making it everyone’s problem,” Preston explained as he stood up straight. “I came by to ask if you would be willing to do something scouting, maybe escort any caravans you find towards the safety of the frontier settlements.”

Nate let out a sigh. At least Preston stopped using the “another settlement needs your help” line. It’s not as if they didn’t have patrols of Minutemen, with one Courser from the institute in the patrols to help augment their fighting power.

“Whats the real reason for asking Preston? You can send out a Minuteman squad, or ask the Institute to send a squad of coursers.” Nate looked his friend in the eye.

Preston wouldn’t meet his gaze, and rubbed the back of his neck, a nervous tick.

“Oh, sod it. The boss of the caravans asked for you direct” Cait cut in, “He wants to talk to you face to face, see if you two can work out a deal about sending forces west to help with their own problems.”

Nate motioned towards Cait with his hand “See? That’s how you talk me into doing a job, by not talking in circles.”

Preston let out a sigh “Its just… I’m the General now, it’s a bit upsetting that she wants to talk to you and not me.”

Nate shrugged as he stood up and away from the counter “That’s the curse of being the famous hero of the Commonwealth. I’ll let this caravan boss know I’m not the one she should be talking to. Anything else I should know?”

“She is coming with her son and some of the heads of the families part of her caravan network, wants to let them have a voice too. Her name is Coe.” Preston said as he followed Nate into the most secure room of the house Nate had, his personal armory.

While Nate loaned out some of his more powerful and unique gear to his allies and the Alliance, he still kept some things locked away for his own use. The heavy door was sealed tight, Nate had used power armor and help from his friends and robots to haul a literal bank vault door to Sanctuary. That was the easy part. The hard part was making the rest of the room secure and sealed.

Nate had debated using Vault 111 for this, a secure underground bunker that could be sealed and secured. Yet Nate still hated going down there. Too many bad memories.

The Alliance, mostly the Institute, had cleared out the facility of the cryogenics tech. The Minutemen had taken the bodies and given them a proper burial on the opposite side of the hill the vault was built into from Sanctuary, using Vault-Tec’s records to name the dead.

His wife, Nora, was buried at the top. The one body he had carried out himself, he and Shay buried her, next to her gravestone he had placed one for Shaun.

Shanking the thoughts from his head, Nate opened the armory door. Turning on the light, he looked around at the stands he kept his weapons on. For this mission, he wanted to travel light, but prepared.

He grabbed his older style 10mm pistol, for some reason the folks of the Commonwealth called it the Classic 10mm, his had an extended magazine, a reflex sight, and a silencer, along with the custom grip.

He also grabbed his Infinity Rifle, an old world experiment he stumbled across in the ruins of a town the Institute wiped out. The rifle was a laser weapon, one modified to have an infinite power source. The college students and their professor who designed and built it long since dead, the blueprints long decayed to dust. Nate had modified the weapon to be an automatic rifle, steady aim, and on several occasions, he put the infinite power source to the test. Other than overheating and burning his hands a bit, it truly did keep firing.

He also grabbed a sniper rifle, wanting to use the recon scope to help him spot raiders or other dangers long before they got close.

“I’m going to stop at the Rocket before I head out. I want Ada along, figured she could use the time away from the Mechanist for a bit, and I want to test a new mod we have been working on” Nate said as he started to strap on his armor, military grade body armor he had found and modified to fit him better.

“What, don’t want me offending the mules?” Cait said smugly.

Nate chuckled “Don’t want your colorful language to scare them off. Plus, if the roads are as bad as you say, I want to move fast, and the new gear for Ada should be fast, but only carries one person.”

“If you want Nate, I could stick around and ke-“

Nate cut Preston off before he could finish “You just want an excuse not to go back to the fort…. Shay has missed you teaching him how to shoot the rifle” he said with a grin.

After working out the specifics, and saying his farewells to his Neighbors, Nate headed down to the Rocket.

This was going to be interesting. A new adventure.

Well, not new, but something told Nate that this mission was going to be exciting.

He couldn’t have been more right.

Chapter Text

Leaving his house, with Cait following, Nate made his way towards the Rocket. Used to be a Red Rocket gas station back before the bombs. Now it was Nate’s jumping off point for any big mission.

The first place he visited after he woke up and decided to leave the ruins of his old life, where he found Dogmeat fighting off mutated Mole rats.

“So boss, any room on this new adventure for your favorite Irish girl?” Cait asked as they strolled past the other rebuilt houses. The original Sanctuary neighborhood had become the center of the expanded settlement.

Now, beyond the creek that acted as the original borders of Sanctuary, they had more houses, farms, and walls that extended to that first Red Rocket.

“The new mod I am going to take with Ada won’t accommodate 2 people, Cait. Not yet anyway. Besides, someone needs to keep Shay out of trouble” Nate replied. He knew Cait did enjoy hanging out with the boy, but he also knew she enjoyed going out and fighting more. “Besides, he has been asking about taking a trip down to the Zone for weeks now,” Nate said with a grin, knowing that would interest Cait.

When Nate first met her, Cait was fighting in the Combat Zone, an arena that had been taken over by a raider gang. Cait had been the top fighter there, still is, even if the Zone had changed along with the Commonwealth in these short few years.

No longer simply an arena, the Zone had expanded outward. With the region more stable and safe, more people came to what was an old world theater. The Zone was now an all year round entertainment district, not just for adults looking to watch Bloodsport combat, but also for families.

Tommy Lonegan, the ghoul who ran the place, had built a shooting range, a restaurant with a bar, and other family friendly features to entertain the masses of folks coming to the area. Yes, he still had the Arena in the old theater, but now the matches were either simple knock out matches, or melee combat robot fighting, no fire arms that could hit the crowd.

“The Zone? Hell yeah, I’ll take him, we can make a trip out of it, may even bring along Nat with us” Cait said with a knowing grin.

Nate shook his head a bit. Piper’s little sister, Nat, who also lived in Sanctuary, had become the object of a little crush of Shay. The boy was obvious about it, volunteering to help her distribute the newspaper she and Piper printed. And Nate had a feeling the younger Wright sister returned the affections.

“Fine, bring Nat too, but make sure they behave. Piper will kill us both if she finds out anything happens to them.”

Cait laughed at that as they turn into the lot for the Rocket.

Normally, one could hear the sound of machinery and power tools as Isabel, a robotics genius and one time villain called The Mechanist, worked on making robots to help the Minutemen patrol the Commonwealth.

Before, when she used Old World left over robotics technology she found in an old Military lab, her machines, that were controlled by the brain of criminals, reinterpreted her instructions to save the people into orders to kill people. Now, using tried and true robotics computing, instead of the flawed robo-brain system, her machines helped the Minutemen, supplementing the patrols with sensors and weaponry humans wouldn’t be able to use themselves.

Usually the young woman was up at dawn, sometimes even before, building robots. Today, it was past noon and it seems she wasn’t working.

Concerned, Nate rushed into the building, Cait following his lead. The pair crashed through the side door, nearest the makeshift bedroom of the building, and stopped.

Before them was a sight neither expected. Isabel, the once Mechanist, was laying on the bed, cuddled up to a shirtless X6-88, the synth Courser assigned to Nate when he was working with the Institute before the Peace.

Nate and Cait both turned away from the door.

“Well…. Guessing they are rather comfrtable,” Cait commented.

Before Nate could respond, X6-88 spoke up, “Miss Cruz worked late into the night, she also finds regularity with which my heart and lungs work to be comforting.”

The intruding pair looked in to see that X6 had extricated himself from Isabel, and was putting in his shirt. The tired roboticist was now cuddling a pillow.

X6, whom Nate had tried giving the name Xavier to, but the synth refused, walked out of the room and shut the door. “By you both being here, I assume that Nate has a mission, and needs the Ada unit for it?”

Nate followed X6 as he walked into the garage, where Ada was powered down and plugged into a computer terminal. “Preferably Ada, but if she is down for maintenance I can take a different unit,” Nate replied.

“Ada is fully operational, she was plugged into the computer for routine system checks of her computer core. The rest of the unit was powered down for safety reasons. I had unplugged the computer speaker so Miss Cruz could get some proper rest without being awoken when the system finished,” X6 explained as he tapped on the computer, returning Ada to full active power.

Ada, a modified and remodified Assaultron unit flickered to life, the eye in the center of her head flickered on as her servos wound up. “You could have simply asked me to not talk unless there was an emergency” the synthetic female voice of Ada said as her voice box cracked to life.

“Isabel needed her rest. Even if an emergency event did occur, I would not require your warning” X6 replied. Nate noticed the synth tense slightly, as if he was preparing for a fight.

“Either way,” Nate interjected, intending to divert the conversation before the two came to blows, “Ada, I got a job, mission really, and I want you with me. We are going out to help escort some caravans, bring them to safety. I am guessing that you are ready?”

Ada turned her optics towards Nate. “I would like that, I think. I have been too long here, cooped up. I believe the upgraded attachment you and Isabel were working on is ready to go.” With that Ada left the garage, moving outside where the new gear waited.

Nate, X6 and Cait followed behind the robot, X6 shutting the garage as they left it. A quick walk down the hill behind the Rocket led the group to a cave. Nate once entered the cave to find a stash of gear, stumbling on the a radioactive chemical dumpsite the old world owners to the Red Rocket made instead of disposing of the toxic chemicals properly, and a nest of molerats.

Now the cave was reinforced and built up to be where Isabel and Nate tested stored special projects they work on, new weapon modifications, and the like. In the center of the cave, on a Robot Maintenance platform was Ada’s new modification.

The new parts looked like an amalgamation of multiple robots. At the front were what looked like two legs of a Sentry not, connected to a large metal box, and to the back of that was the tank treads of a Robo-brain unit. At the front, where it looked like a Robot’s torso should attach was a hole, with a few wires and connections poking out, the hole was large enough for a person to stand in, and their legs would be inside the contraption. Nate walked over and hit a switch, causing the front of the unit, between the sentry legs, to open up. This wasn’t meant to take the place of a Robot’s legs, it was a vehicle for the Robot. Ada stepped in to the opening, which was large enough for her to stand in, and Nate closed the hatch.

Cait and X6 watched as Nate moved into position a set of braces around Ada’s waist, holding her in place, as he connected cables to the newly installed connection ports.

“Would have preferred if we had gotten the quick disconnect feature for these finished first. How are you feeling Ada?” Nate asked as he slid off the side of the tracks.

The tracks had a dedicated power supply, separate from Ada, a fusion core inside, around where her knees are. “Systems connections are good, power supply is at 85%.” Ada stated as she rolled off the platform, towards the cave entrance. The others followed, with Nate grabbing another piece that looked like it was part of a ladder with a platform.

Nate hooked the ladder to the back of the unit, making a small set of footholds so someone could climb on. Nate did so, settling in behind Ada’s torso. “Really wish we could have gotten that chair seat attached,” Nate grumbled as he tried, and failed, to sit comfortably.

“So, what do you think? Ada controls the legs, while this spot is for either a person to ride, or could also be used to hold cargo for long distance transport” Nate explained, grinning at the companions.

Cait circled the unit, kicking the treads and sentry legs as she passed. “Seems sturdy enough boss. What powers this monstrosity? I don’t think the blue bot here could power this thing as long as you need.”

“It’s powered by a few fusion cores secured and armored to keep them from getting hit during combat. They are hooked up in parellel so that if one goes, they all don’t go. We can also have it use one cell at a time” Nate explained as the group exited the cave.

Chapter Text

As they crested the hill to the Rocket, they see Isabel exiting the building. “Oh, there you are Xavier” the robot mechanic said as she approached the group. The heads of the companions turned and stared at X6, he never let anyone call him anything but X6, even when they tried to give him a human name.

“I enjoy it when she calls me it” the courser said as he continues walking up the hill.

“Tin man has a heart after all” Cait mutters as they continue on.

X6 didn’t comment as the group assembled back at the Red Rocket. Once there, Nate and Isobel started going over Ada and her new component, double checking the systems.

“Everything looks to be in order. Ada, the connections showing you any faults?” Isobel asked.

“Negative, all systems appear to be functioning nominally” Ada replied.

Cait circled Ada and let out a low whistle, “So Boss, how much of your arsenal are you going to cart along with you? Guessing you could fit quite a few surprises inside.”

“Not planning on changing the landscape Cait. In fact, other than a few boxes of ammo and some spare power cells and parts, I plan on loading up mostly medical supplies,” Nate replied, as he went into the Red Rocket to gather the supplies. He always had all of the settlements and important structures have plenty of supplies for emergencies.

Nate and X6 loaded up the supplies. A dozen ammo boxes for Nate’s pistol and rifle, nothing fancy, he preferred to leave his special gear where it would stay out of the wrong hands. A half dozen Fusion Cores, sealed in a heavy box, the box had been thoroughly tested, it could survive up to and including a direct hit from a mini-nuke. They also loaded up 2 medium sized crates of medical supplies, stimpaks, rad-away, and bandages, as well as a few dried ration packs.

Nate also tossed in a few jugs of water, while he could, and has drank some not clean water, and he wasn’t planning on being gone too long, it never hurts to have more water just in case.

After the loading was finished, Ada drove a circuit around the Red Rocket lot. She drove the unit along at a decent pace, slow and steady, picking up speed every now and again to get a feel for the weight.

“Systems nominal, minor excessive power draw as we build up speed, but it levels out once I start going steady,” Ada explained as she came to a stop in front of the humans watching.

“Alright, then let’s get going. Now Cait, don’t go crazy at the Zone, you hear? And no tattoos, on either Nat or Shay.” Nate slung a pack across his back, carrying some more supplies, food and ammo.

Shouldering his rifle, a .50cal sniper, Nate mused to himself. Was it overkill? Probably, but he had run into enough big critters to know it’s better to have more fire power than you need, than need more firepower than what you have.

His pistol was a simple 10mm handgun, reflex sight, silencer, and extended magazine. While not as good of close combat as shotgun, he didn’t want to overload himself carrying too many weapons. That would just be insane.
(We all do it, a gun for every occasion, but I have to have it grounded somewhere)

The other looked on as he strapped on his set of armor he kept at the Rocket. Nothing fancy, and the mismatching of pieces had a purpose. Military grade chest piece and helmet, the institute had worked out how to get the old handheld radios that can connect to it to work with the longer range radio network Nate could listen to on his Pip-boy, letting him keep in contact. On his left arm was his Pip-boy, along with a shielded metal shoulder guard, his right arm had a large metal piece made to function like a small shield. His leg guards were simple leather, didn’t want his legs weighed down too much, or have big pieces that could hinder his running.

Nate stood up and let the group comment.

“Still think the mismatching makes you look like a damned scav” Cait remarked.

“Power Armor would be more effective” X6 stated, preferring fire power and armor over practicality.

“True,” Nate replied, “but it would also eat through power cores faster, require much more materials to maintain, and limit how much I could carry. If I run out of Fusion Cores while I’m out there, all I can really do is dump the armor, and that would be a waste.”

Nate walked over to Ada “What about you? Your thoughts?”

Ada stared at them, processing her response. “Your logic is sound, my current configuration allow me to self repair most damage, short of loosing a limb. In the event we run out of Fusion Cores, leaving the carrier unit behind is no major loss, aside from the waste of power. Given how the Institute is able to manufacture more, with enough materials, we would be able to retrieve it once the danger has passed.”

Ever the practical one, that Ada.

Nate turned to his companions. “See, even Ada is on my-“

“However, Cait is correct, the mismatching of armor, while functional, does give the appearance of a Raider.”

Nate sighed in defeat, they never really liked his fashion sense. “Well too bad, it’s what I’m wearing, and the vault suit under it should be more than enough to identify me.”

“Won’t stop some caravan guard from taking potshots at ya, boss” Cait said, the Irish brawler needed to get the last word in.

“Listen, going full heavy combat armor would be too much weight to carry for long distances, going with full scrap metal armor is the same, and going with just leather is too…. What’s that?”

Nate had been interrupted by his ranting about his armor choice when Isabel walked up with a bundle under her arm. “Well, you know how the Institute and the Railroad use armored coats? Well, using Xavier’s as the blueprint, I designed and made a version of it for the Minutemen. This is a prototype, it holds up just as well as the Institute made ones. I had used pieces of….. well … there were a bunch of 111 vault suits down there not being used, and they are easy to work with…”

Isabel trailed off as she held up the bundle, letting it unfurl. It was an armored coat, Vault-tec blue, with the yellow numbers 111 prominent on the back.

“The suits were designed and made to more easily be modified. I just made a couple of them into a coat, added in armored layers, that Kevlar weave you found in a bunker for the Railroad did the trick.”

As Isabel explained, the assembled companions just looked at the coat. “Isabel, it’s… it’s amazing. How long have you been working on this?” Nate asked as he gently took the coat from her.

“About a month? The main issue was getting it to keep it’s shape. Vault-Tec designed the fabric of the suits to stretch and contour to the wearer. Getting it to keep the shape of a coat involved a lot of trial and error with heat and brackets.” Isabel was blushing now.

“Boss will look like the king of all Vault dwellers with that thing on” Cait mused as Nate started to remove his armor pieces. X6 tossed the armor aside unceremoniously.

Donning the long coat, Nate gave it a few tugs. It didn’t feel heavy, it felt lighter than most outer armor he wore. He felt the sleeves attach to the wrists of his Vault suit.

“Magnets in the cuffs,” Isabel explained, “same as the vault suit, keeps the sleeves in place. You can take the Pip-boy off and it should work perfectly on the coat’s wrist, instead of you keeping that sleeve rolled up.”

Nate did just that, marveling at the fact that the device could still read his medical status.

“Isabel, this is, this is amazing. If we could get the Vault suits from the other empty Vaults, you could make more of these, right?”

“Yes sir, now that I have the process mostly figured out, it shouldn’t take me as long”

“Now that you all are done discussing fashion, I believe Nate and I have a caravan to reach and escort” Ada stated, having been forgotten at the reveal of the Armored Vault Coat.

As Nate went to close up the front of the coat, he stopped, noticing a rather large blacked area on the front piece that covers his torso. “Isabel,” Nate asked, “What happened here?”

“Oh, that, well, I had to test it, so I fired a laser rifle at it a few times to make sure it held up. Why? It’s still in one piece.”

Without even being asked, Cait handed Nate back his military grade chest piece, as Nate removed the coat to slip the armor on.

“Whoa, wait, what’s going on?” Isabel was curious, she worked hard on that coat.

“It is nothing against you or your work Miss Cruz,” X6 explained, “But obvious damage such as that, even if it’s superficial, would be the ideal target during combat. Enemies, even those unskilled in tactics, would aim for that spot, putting it under more stress and strain. Given that the coat is fabric with a kevlar weave, kinetic force will still travel through and injure his chest, leading to bruising and such.”

Isabel too the explanation in, red faced as she realized her mistake. “I can wash it out,” she offered.

“Not necessary Isabel, besides, I wear a vault suit, they are a pain in the ass to clean when stained. It will take a while to get it out. Besides, the material stretches over the chest plate. I’m good.” Nate said as he put back on the coat, closing it up. True enough, the material did stretch over the chest piece.

“See? All good. Now, Ada and I have delayed long enough. Cait, don’t go burning down the city, or teach Shay any new swear words.” Cait scoffed at that, the boy needed to expand his vocabulary, and not just to what he learned growing up (or being made) in the Institute.

“X6…. I got no parting words, you do you, and make sure Isabel eats and sleeps on a schedule.” X6 nodded his head in acknowledgement of the order. Isabel was about to object, but she closed her mouth, Nate was right, she needed a schedule, and someone to keep her on it, or she would go days without proper food or sleep.

With that, Nate and Ada headed out.

Nate decided to forgo roads, it would be faster if they moved directly towards the Caravan Assembly point. Less chance of running into raiders watching the roads, but more likely to encounter mutant animals.

Nate mused to himself, he did miss this, the adventuring, walking into the unknown of the wastelands to help people.

At least, that’s what he planned to encounter, but this mission, this mission would hold new unknowns even to him.

Chapter Text

Cassian all but collapsed on to his ass when the caravan decided to stop for the night. Even after a week of travelling with them, his body was not used to this kind of exertion.

Yes, he had walked around empty, barren planets. Heck, he enjoyed the treks he took with his crews across the various multi-verses of his own universe. Even when he gave up living the normal life, he would walk the world’s alone.

But he always built up to that, even then, with his space suit, even his Starborn suit, it was easier than this.

He had a new, fresh body, none of the muscle he would have built up for these kinds of treks across open land. While he could call it up and use it, Cassian was reluctant to use his Starborn suit. Not for any real reason other than he didn’t want to freak out his travelling companions.

On his third day with the group, after they had settled down for the night, he told them everything. How he came from another universe, several in fact, travelling in space, facing down space pirates and alien monsters. All the wonders he had seen.

And they laughed. Solomon Coe even fell over laughing. Cassian was confused, why weren’t they freaking out?

Then they explained the Vaults. Underground bunkers made by Vault-Tec for the purpose of preserving humanity through nuclear war. At least on the surface, but after the war, it came to light that many of the Vaults were designed for unethical experimentations on the occupants.

They assumed that Cassian was a Vault-dweller, and his vault probably did experiments with simulations or implanted memories. A plausible explanation to them, since space travel was the flight of Old World fancy.

Cassian just stared at them. They assumed he was part of some messed up experiment done by some Pre-War company? Who the heck was Vault-Tec that his past could be waved away as some fake messed up experiment on people?

Since now he had an excuse to explain why he didn’t know things, Cassian asked questions. About the War that apparently left the world devastated, about Vault-Tec, everything he could think of.

They explained what they could. The War was a massive Nuclear Armageddon, missiles were launched by launched by everyone, countries and companies, who had them. There was some debate as to who launched the first Nuke, Communist China, America, or if the entire thing was orchestrated by Vault-Tec so they could use their Vaults.

No matter who struck first, the end result was a vast wasteland, inhabited by the survivors of humanity, and other strange, mutated creatures.

Cass was intrigued, and a bit horrified, as the caravan listed off the various animals and creatures, Brahmin, mutated cows, Radstags, Yaoguai, radscorpions, mirelurks, and other monsters. They made a point to tell him of the three biggest dangers he could encounter.

Super Mutants, superhuman monstrosities made by the FEV, forced Evolution Virus, and Radiation. Deathclaws, the result of various lizards across the wasteland mutating into hulking monsters of claws and scales that brought death and destruction to the unprepared. Finally, the most dangerous creature in the wasteland, humans, be they raiders or members of more “civilized” factions that have risen and fallen across the wastea.

The last one being listed as the most dangerous didn’t surprise Cassian at all, he had seen the worst of humanity so many times, he wondered how we ever got along with each other. Between the near constant conflicts, ranging from small disputes to the wars that devastate entire worlds, humanity was its own worst enemy.

Tonight, however, as Cassian settles down to rest, he planned to see if his past was some elaborate ruse, a fantasy programmed into his mind by some sick and twisted Corporation, or if it was real. He pulled out the ring, the circle of metal that sang the same song as the Artifacts he remembered.

Looking at it, it appeared to be made of the same material, even had the same patterns in it. He could also still hear it’s song. It was faint, not even truly audible, but he heard it all the same, in his mind. He remembered trying to use his Grav Dash ability in the ruins before he found the ring, and was brought to his knees from the strain…. But what if the ring was the key?

The artifacts lead to temples on other worlds, he obviously couldn’t reach those worlds, given that he has no access to space travel, let alone Grav-drive tech that would allow him to reach said worlds.

But the ring…. It was curious. Never had he encountered an Artifact, a fragment of the Armillary, as small as this. Maybe, just maybe….

Cassian walked a bit away from the camp, told the others he was going to relieve himself when they questioned it. Once a good distance away, Cassian ducked behind a large rock, big enough to obscure anyone from camp seeing him.

The slipped the ring on the third finger of his right hand, and his body tensed as he felt a surge of power rush though him. It felt amazing, he felt amazing. It reminded him of the rush of energy he got every time he solved a temple and got his powers.

His body relaxed, the surge passing, but he still felt… empowered. Looking around to ensure he wasn’t being watched, Cass focused. In his mind, he saw a dial, a radial pattern for stars and constellations, his mental visualization for choosing which of his Starborn powers he wanted to use.

Focusing on the pattern, the constellation for Grav Dash, Cass opened his eyes, and activated it. With a familiar rush, Cassian moves forward, dust and rocks exploding back from where he was standing.

It was real, it wasn’t some messed up science experiment, his life really did happen. Not that he doubted it, but finding himself in a world so completely different from his own did make him start to wonder….

Suddenly, Cassian snapped his head up and looked out into the distance, to the South East. It felt…. Different, like he was looking at a beacon in the distance.

As suddenly as it appeared, it vanished, but… it had to be. There was no other explanation that made sense. What he felt, what drew his attention, was another Starborn.

Of course he wouldn’t be the only one to end up here, others would have gone through Unity and came out the other side, same as every other universe. But why did the sensation vanish? Why wasn’t he feeling them constantly, distantly.

Then it dawned on him, the ring, the Artifact. If they took this shape in this world, there would be more out there, more likely than not in the hands of other Starborn. If the ring unlocked his powers, then other Starborn would need them to unlock theirs. So, wearing the ring let every other Starborn wearing one know where the others were, or at least the general direction.

Cassian slipped his ring off and pondered this new development as he made his way back to camp. There was at least one other Starborn here, likely more. Whoever they were, they had a ring, and probably figured out how they worked before Cassian did.

Whoever they were, Cassian couldn’t tell, not sure if it was distance, or the short time he perceived them, but they were smart and cautious. Not every Starborn was peaceful, Cassian himself had done some evil things during his journeys through the infinite universe, simply because he could. It was smart to not keep the ring on, to not make it obvious where he was, lest he be ambushed by others seeking the Armillary.

…..But Cassian was older now, older than he looked, and strong enough to stand against other Starborn and come out the other side…

But that was then, when he knew the rules, knew how things would go. The game has changed. He didn’t have the same level of tech, the weapons here were slapped together pieces of old broken tech. Nothing that would give him an inherent edge, nothing he could use to build up a strong hold. Not yet anyway.

He needed resources, allies, a base of operations before he decided to tempt fate and become a target for the other Starborn.

He settled back into his spot, his bedroll already set out for him, probably by Solomon, he was a kind kid.

Cassian needed a plan, but first, he needed to see where the caravan ended up. They claimed they were heading to the capital of the Commonwealth wasteland, the ruins of Boston.

Ruined city, with trade routes, wide areas he could hide out in and reinforce a building or two. Mercenary companies and factions of settlers he could ally with.

Boston is his destination, and probably where he would make his stand.

Chapter Text

“Shit, shit, shit, fuck” Cassian swore to himself as he ran for cover. He really ha picked up swearing rather easily. Especially for times like now.

The caravan had walked directly into an ambush. One that Cassian, and several other caravan members pointed out.

But of course, stubborn Mama Morgan Coe refused to listen, and walked the caravan straight through the ruins of a town. A town that, even by her own admission, used to be a settlement, but “Folks stopped trying, too many raider attacks, not enough guns.”

But of course, just because it wasn’t a settlement, it had to mean there weren’t going to be any raider. Dumb old bat.

Cass, and even some of the other caravan guards pointed out the smoke, probably from cooking fires. Even pointed out the boot prints on the road leading up to the ruins. Hell, Solomon saw a flash of light, from the reflection of a scope looking at them.

But the old bat ordered the group into the ruins, saying that going around would take too long, and the terrain was too rocky anyway.

She was right, but damn her all the same. Cassian would have had the caravan wait, taken a couple of other guards, not that he needed them, but it would do them good to be there, and take out whatever was waiting.

Others brought up that plan, but of course, she didn’t like it, left the rest of the caravan exposed in the open if there was trouble, which she insisted there wasn’t.

So the entire caravan marched straight through the ruins, right into the ambush. Morgan Coe got hit first, since she decided to lead and show us all there was nothing to worry about, took a round to the leg from a sniper.

Solomon tried to get to her, but Cassian grabbed him, and is currently holding him behind cover.

A few other guards were hit as well, but their hits were lethal. Whoever was leading these scavs in this ambush was smart. Take out the obvious guards, wound the leader so they cry out for help, lure the rest into the open for easy pickings.

Cassian was pissed. He was a Starborn, a space captain who has fought for and against every major faction in his verse across the variants of his universe he had lived. He had power….. HAS power.

He looked down at the ring he had on his wrist, held there by a simple bit of leather.

“Sol, I need you to listen. I’m going to clear the way. When it’s safe, you get your mother and get back into cover” Cassian untied the leather and freed the ring, slipping it on. He felt the surge of energy, but didn’t react outwardly

Without giving the younger Coe a chance to respond, Cassian stepped out from cover, and marched towards the ruins. He wasn’t an idiot, he knew that for all his power, a bullet can take him out easy, which is why as he walked, he activated Reactive Shield, a shimmer of starlight glowed around him.

A sniper rifle cracked, letting out a round. Cassian didn’t even slow his walk as the bullet hit his chest, and then fell to the ground. His barrier held, he grinned.

More gunfire erupted from the ruins, focused on him, the rounds fell uselessly as they his his barrier. The Starborn didn’t even slow, as motes of light swirled around him, his armor forming, he knew the capabilities of this armor, knew them well.

He stopped in the middle of the road, just outside a building, and turned back to the caravan. Seeing Solomon peak around their hiding spot, Cassian gave him a thumbs up, holding up the crappy revolver, pipe revolver, that was the only weapon the caravan would trust him with, and charged into the closest building, where gunfire came from.

Grinning behind his faceplate, Cassian found his first victim, a man wearing crappy leather straps as armor, and some pants. He didn’t give the scav a chance to react as he shot him, near point blank in the head.

Cassian didn’t even bother to pick up the now fallen weapon, it looked to be a cobbled together piece like his. He stepped over the fallen scav and moved to the next room, activating one of his most used, if not his favorite Power, Sense Star stuff. While he couldn’t see it himself, he new his eyes now glowed with starlight as he looked around.

Through the walls, he could see every scav still living, and the other caravaners. He charged up the stairs in the next room, climbing up then two at a time, towards a pair of scavs. They knew he was there, he could see they were facing the door before he charged through it. His barrier was still active, and he doubted the small arms rounds they carried could even scratch his armor.

Slamming through the door, he tackled one, firing another of his revolver’s rounds through his head. Rolling over, keeping the dead body on top, he aimed at the remaining scav, taking his head off with another round.

Three shots fired, three left, and who knows how many scavs left.

Taking a moment, as he could hear the panic from the other scavs, still seeing them move thanks to Sense Star Stuff, he checked the weapons of the fallen. The first scav had the same crappy pipe weapon as the one downatairs and he himself was carrying. But the other had a shotgun, single barrel, but fed from a large magazine instead of of the built in carrier.

Cassian slid his revolver on to his leg, where he knew the suit would grab it, having a magnetic holster that held the most any other weapon he had without needing an actual holster. He checked how much ammo the shotgun had, five rounds remaining in the magazine, while the body of the scav who held the weapon had another two magazines, holding ten each.

Grinning, he moved on. The buildings were close together, up against each other, from what he saw coming in. The scavs next door were getting ready for him, moving to stairs and doors.

How foolish of them to think he was going to use the doors.

Bracing himself against the opposite wall, and seeing that the one in front of him was falling apart anyway, he ran. Firing off two rounds into the wall, he activated his Grav Dash. The scavs never expected him to come through the half rotted plaster.

He took out the first one in this new room easily, single blast to the back. The second he took the head off of. The third managed to turn and dodge our of the way, firing off a wild shot. It didn’t even connect as Cassian racked another round and fired, the shot obliterating the chest of the scav.

Sense Star stuff was still active, and Cassian saw the Scavs below him panicking, they were looking up at the stairs, weapons trained on the door. While he didn’t think he could blast his way through the floor, there was a conviently placed window.

As Cassian moves into position, sitting on the window, he saw out the back of the building, and was momentarily confused. He saw someone, another scav, but the looked to be floating a bit when compared to the ones next to her, as this scav, and the ones with her were women. He was so confused, he didn’t realize she was raising something up, it looked to be a heavy weapon.

Then his power faded and he saw the woman was in a powered armor, raising a rocket launcher up to fire

Cassian isn’t prideful, he knew he let out a yelp as he fell backwards out of the window when he saw the fire of the rocket launch bloom behind the power armored scav.

But he would never admit it.

Because of his panicked fall out the window, the Starborn did not stick the landing, and hit the ground back first. He had intended to use his jump jets built into the suit to slow his fall… again, he was panicking and didn’t activate them. Luckily for him, the Scavs on this floor didn’t notice. Instead, they were yelling at the ones on the roof of the next building, about how dumb and dangerous it was to fire a rocket at a target above them.

They didn’t live to learn from that mistake, as Cassian emptied the shotgun into them through the front window, into their backs. The scavs must not care about friendly fire, because the last scav wasn’t taken out by a shotgun, but by a rocket screaming into the room.

Cassian simply shrugged reloaded. The power armor would be a problem, he didn’t have any heavy weapons, and he was pretty sure that thing could brush off shotgun and pistol rounds.

Wait… Starborn, he has powers. Why did he keep forgetting that?

These scavs needed nothing fancy, but Cassian did need them gone. He moved into the blasted building, and then out the other side. The scavs around the power armor took shots at him, small arms, no real threats.

Raising his hand, Cassian aimed his palm at the power armor, putting his target between his index and middle finger, and fired off a Solar Flare.

Now, contrary to its name, Solar Flare doesn’t just creat aflash of light, it makes an orb of sun fueled fire, that sets what it hirs ablaze.

He could hear screams, amplified by the armor’s speakers, as the scav caught fire and burned inside her protection.

Taking advantage of the panic, Cassian fired at the two unarmored targets, cutting them down easily.

The power armor flung it’s arms around in a panic, batting at itself, before the scav inside realized she could eject.

Cassian watched as the armor stopped moving , and heard it open up. Sadly, too little, too late for the scav, as the rocket in the launcher the armor was holding cooked off.

Cassian actually winced a bit as the blast knocked the last surviving scav down. He took a step towards her, intending to force her to surrender, when a secondary, bigger explosion went off. Something in the armor exploded like a bomb, creating a small mushroom cloud.

When the smoke cleared, Cassian saw that the roof the armor was on was caved in, the armor and bodies, what remained of them, were now on the floor of what was once a small store.

Cassian walked inside, hearing whimpering cries of pain. Stepping over the debris, pieces of armor and bodies, he saw the last scav. Her body was in shreds, pieces of armor had cut through her. She was missing a leg, and arm, and had terrible burns on her body.

She looked at him with pleas for help in her eyes.

What Cassian did was a mercy. Drawing his revolver, and bringing the number of rounds in it to two.

He didn’t bother with focusing his armor off as he walked back to the caravan. His Sense Star Stuff power told him the rest of the ruins were clear, but he wanted to send a message.

His shotgun and revolver now holstered, he walked past what remained of the guards, they were gawking and staring at him. He saw that Morgan Coe hadn’t moved, despite Solomon being there.

He knelt down next to the old woman, and turned his face plate transparent.

“Still think I am a Vault-Tec programmed experiment?”