Archive of Our Own ^beta

Chapter Text

They were found in the storage room in the back of a school library by Brotherhood scribes searching the area. Lucy remembers it discreetly. Cradling her wailing brother in her arms as she tried to sing them both a song to calm them both down. She didn’t know if her Mommy was coming back to get them, she had pushed them into the room that looked the safest at school.

She had a friend she went to school with, but she couldn’t remember his name. Couldn’t find him when the outside world looked like a barren wasteland, with no sight of beautifully colored buildings or nature in sight. She cried when she couldn’t find Mommy or Aunt Lee. They took them away to a place safe underground, where artificial light and old books lingered.

The scribes that found Lucy and her brother looked down at her with pity. A young girl and her little brother were left victim to what had ruined mankind two hundred years before. They wouldn’t leave the pair of siblings alone in this Wasteland, especially with no family. If anything, the Brotherhood will be their new family.

---

Knights and scribes that had returned from exploring the destroyed Shady Sands, not only documenting and bringing back the artifacts but survivors. Notably, a pair of siblings. Young victims are affected by decisions of greed and selfishness.

The pair of siblings lay against the wall, tired from their travels. Talk amongst the Scribes were saddened by their circumstances. All alone, the girl cried for her mother after they could not find her in the school area.

He noted how the little girl would not let go of her brother, regardless if the Knights or Scribes had tried to convince her they were safe now. The boy, who could only be at age two or three, had fallen asleep laying his head on his sister’s lap.

“My child,” said Cleric Goodeman, offering the young girl a piece of buttered bread. “What is your name?”

Looking up, she took the offering carefully and broke it in half. “Thank you,” she said quietly, before taking a bite. “My name is Lucy. This is my little brother, Norman.”

“What a nice name you have. Reminds me of the name, Lucille, my child,” stated Cleric Goodeman. “Do you realize you are in a safe home now? A place underground, away where no one can harm you.”

“Like a Vault?” Lucy asked nervously. “I lived in Vault 33 before going to Shady Sands. Mommy said the surface was safe.”

This sudden news confused Goodeman. Were these children originally vault dwellers? There were rumors that Vault dwellers only existed because of an organization called Vault-Tec, which created Vaults to ensure the future of humanity continued.

To answer the child’s plea, he nodded. “Yes, much similar to a vault. We are in an underground bunker because the Brotherhood of Steel is here to ensure you are protected and provided a new home.”

For the first time, Lucy had smiled warmly. Cleric Goodeman was glad he was able to make her feel comforted. “Here you are to be fed, dressed, and educated in the ways of the Brotherhood,” he continued on.

“Why don’t we let your brother rest on a bed? I am sure it is quite uncomfortable for him to be lying in this position,” he suggested, motioning one of the Scribes to come forward to pick up the boy.

“No!” Lucy yelped. “Mommy said I need to take care of Norman and keep him safe.” She hugged her brother tightly, not wanting to let him go.

“We will go to the mess hall and get some more food for you and your brother to eat once he wakes. I am sure you are quite hungry,” Cleric Goodeman said, pointing to the crumbled bread Lucy had forgotten. “Remember, my child, you are in a place similar to a Vault. We are safe, away from danger.”

This had seemed to convince Lucy enough that she had loosened her grip on her brother. A scribe had come to gently pick up Norman as Cleric Goodeman offered his hand to Lucy. She reached out, placing her hand in his as her smile returned.

“What kind of food do you have here?” she asked as he led them to the mess hall.

“We have…”

---

Memories of early childhood would fade away. That was a hard lesson Lucille learned when she couldn’t remember exactly what her mother’s face looked like or how to answer Nicolaus’s question of where they were born. Slowly, she would forget the details of her past.

The Brotherhood of Steel would become the only thing her brother had ever known, but to Lucille, she swears Shady Sands was real. Not a dream.

---

Lucy, or now Lucille she was named, often sat in front of the class with other children being taught basic education by Cleric Goodeman. Lessons on the history of the past to lectures of pre-war artifacts, Lucille soaks up the information. The Clerics like to go on and on about how technology led the downfall of humanity and how the Brotherhood of Steel must preserve and archive pre-war tech to prevent another calamity.

Sometimes, Lucille would ask the Clerics if the reason why the Brotherhood takes technology to prevent what happened to Shady Sands. Either a reprimand or a distant look are the only answers she gets.

Today, Cleric Goodeman points his ruler at the board “Great War.”

“We will be continuing our discussion on the Great War, and it affected us to where we are today. Followed by what artifacts to look for…”

History was Lucille’s favorite subject to learn about from the Clerics and Scribes. It often raised the question of morals and ethics for her. The Brotherhood of Steel believes in the preservation and keeping of records of pre-war technology to prevent humanity from destroying itself again, which is a core value Lucille believes in. But she wonders, could some of the technology the Brotherhood uses for themselves help benefit the lives of people in the Wasteland?

She wasn’t the best Initiate in her unit, finding that shooting a gun was difficult or physical exercises were at times challenging to her. But reading the books the Scribes gave her, learning to do repairs, identifying artifacts, or even asking the Clerics about the subjects they specialized in during lessons, she succeeded in.

In the past decade, since she and her brother arrived at the Brotherhood, life had become routine for them. Wake up, attend lessons, participate in chores, catalog, etc. While life would become mundane for them in the bunker, never allowed to leave, they found comfort in the knowledge they were safe and educated.

Soon, Lucille would eventually have the decision on whether to be a Knight or Scribe. From Nicolaus overhearing some of the older Scribes and conversations, they think it would be in her best interests to utilize her skills as a Scribe. She doesn’t think they're wrong; the purpose of the Brotherhood is to collect and preserve technology. If they believed her purpose for the Brotherhood would be best for her to be a Scribe, she was willing to do it for the people she called family.

If Lucille could recall correctly, she was only six years old when she came into the care of the Brotherhood. She was in no shape to take care of her younger brother, who was only a toddler at the time. Thankfully, Cleric Goodeman, Scribes and Knights helped care for the pair of siblings to become adjusted to the lifestyle in the bunker. Renaming them as one of their own.

Under the orders of Cleric Goodeman, the siblings were allowed to spend time with each other. It was noted that young Nicolaus would benefit from having a strong relationship to his older sister as he matures. For a child of his age, he is awfully quiet at times, which concerned some of the scribes. But Lucille knew her brother was already intelligent for his age, even if he was quiet and unmotivated at times.

She is sixteen now. Soon to be a Scribe and help her Brotherhood prevent the downfall of humanity, like what had happened to her once before. Sometimes when she sleeps, Lucille dreams of walking hand in hand with someone through fields of corn, the heat of the sun beating on them. That there had to be a life awaiting outside the bunker, civilization that wasn’t blasted away from the face of the Earth.

But, that was just a dream.

While her brother had been practically raised in the bunker with no recollection of knowing where they were before, she remembers enough to know they were refugees. She knows enough that they had a life before the Brotherhood, that they had a mother who loved and tried to protect them.

In another lifetime, they would have been just Lucy and Norman. They wouldn’t be known as Lucille or Nicolaus, but that life died a long time ago when the bombs dropped.

---

Someone is pulling her through rows of cornfields. The feeling of soft dirt squishing under her feet and the summer sun hangs over them.

“Your mom is looking for you,” said her friend from school. “She’s calling your name.”

“I was looking for you to play with,” she said, pointing to the aisles of corn.

Her friend looked at her shyly. “I didn’t want to get in trouble with your mom because I like you.”

“You won’t get in trouble! She would like you because you're my friend,” said Lucy.

“Wake up!”

“What did you say?”

“Lucille! Wake up!”

She woke up startled. Realizing it was her little brother patting her awake, she sat up. “What’s wrong? Did something happen?” she whispered.

“You’re being called upon,” Nicolaus replied. She noticed her brother was fully dressed in their Scribe robes, holding something. Around them, other Scribes were still asleep.

“What?” she gasped quietly.

Nicolaus was quiet. Anxious, even. Her little brother had outgrown his nervousness as a child, often hiding behind her or keeping to himself. Nowadays, he did his scribe duties with a “lack of passion” (noted by the Senior Scribes) but she knew him as inquisitive.

But right now, Lucille could tell something was wrong.

“...Elder Maxson is here,” Nicolaus whispered to her, holding out what appeared to be tactical gear.

It took a moment for those words to register before Lucille gently reached out to her brother, pulling herself up to hug him. Maybe it was out of comfort or to ease her brother’s anxiousness, but the pair of siblings hugged one another in the dim light of her bunker room.

The Elder Maxson? The last descendant of the founder of the Brotherhood, Roger Maxson. The Elder united the Brotherhood to become whole again. Why would he be here, coming to the Lost Hills Bunker?

Peering at Nicolaus. “Why is the Elder here?” she hissed.

His face squished in discomfort, the thought of his sister going up to the surface for something. “All I know is you’re being called upon by the Elder. Cleric Goodeman didn’t tell me anything else besides to personally get you.”

Rushing quietly to get her gear on, the pair of siblings slip into the hallway with Nicolaus leading her. Four other Scribes slipped from their dorms into the hall, glances of confusion met one another as they all filed out to the elevator for the lowest level of the bunker.

It was not often Scribes were allowed to Level 4, as it housed the highest rankings of the Brotherhood, including Elders, and an assembly hall. The only time Lucille or Nicolaus had been to Level 4 was for their promotion from Initiate to Scribe, both siblings were promoted earlier than the usual for their skills.

Lucille moved quickly, walking alongside her brother. “Are you supposed to be with us?” she asked, gesturing to other Scribes.

“Cleric Goodeman wanted me to stand by his side. You know how he is,” he replied curtly. As much as Nicolaus wouldn’t admit it, he deeply cared for Cleric Goodeman like a father. They both did.

The Cleric had taken a liking to the siblings, taking them under his guidance. While Lucille was becoming acclimated to her time with the Brotherhood, her brother had spent the majority of his childhood with the Cleric Goodeman. With times how Nicolaus would keep to himself and play Zeta Invaders during his free time, the Cleric would say it was good for his mind to have a challenge with such mundane tasks in the bunker.

As they filed into the elevator, Lucille felt nervous. Why would Elder Maxson want to personally come to Lost Hills Bunker to call upon Scribes? Instinctively, Lucille held onto her brother’s hand for comfort. A small squeeze from him acknowledged her discomfort. This was something they did together; whenever one of them had a bad dream or a rough day, they would acknowledge each other when on duty.

The doors to the elevator opened. The assembly hall seemed to have been fully decorated in Brotherhood of Steel decoration in honor of Elder Maxson. Paladins in T-60 armor with laser rifles stood on guard in every corner, Senior Scribes stood in file waiting for their assigned Scribes to line up behind them.

It wasn’t often that lower ranks of the Brotherhood would be allowed into the assembly hall, unless it was for promotion ceremonies or meetings such as this. Most of the time, higher ranks would utilize it as a meeting room.

On the stage, high ranking members from Cleric Goodeman to others Lucille had never seen before stood. Nicolas went up to stand behind Cleric Goodeman. She had looked in the direction of the Cleric’s eyes, hoping to meet his, but he was looking at their Elder.

Everyone knew the tale of Elder Maxson. Defeated a Deathclaw at the age of thirteen, had united the broken Brotherhood as one, and his greatest feat of defeating the Institute in the Commonwealth. He was the center of attention on the podium, watching as his subordinates marched to their places.

The aura of authority had silenced any mutters or murmurs, leaving only the slight noise of shuffling.

“Brothers and Sisters!” Elder Maxson's voice was heard throughout the room. “You are here today, selected for your loyalty to our Brotherhood, but also the beginning of troubling times.”

“A fallen foe has risen from the ashes, lurking in the shadows. An enemy I remember as a child that we had defeated in the great battle against the Enclave in the Capitol Wasteland,” his voice thundered.

There was a great pause in the room. Among the scribes, they all had met eyes to each other's eyes. Lucille remembered learning about the Enclave, an organization that challenged the ideals of the Brotherhood.

“A relic of great technology and power has been unleashed into the Wasteland. One that can bring tremendous power to our enemy!”

“Scribes,” Maxson said. “You have shown great promise in your skill of preserving and identifying our Pre-War technology. Along with your thirst for knowledge, you were selected for your versatility in skills that will be of great use for the field.”

Field? She had the chance to leave the bunker that had been her home for so many years. Her only memory from before was of destruction and smoke. The idea of getting to explore the Wastelands excites her; no more examining documents or artifacts, not having the same boring routine from morning to evening. If Shady Sands existed in her dreams, there had to be a possibility that it was real.

“Under my orders and blessings, you will all set out to join your field groups in the morning with your fellow Brothers and Sisters in the Southwest! Ad Victoriam!” he finishes, fist over his heart.

“Ad Victoriam! Ad Victoriam!”

---

They were all dismissed after the speech. The now Field Scribes were ordered to pack and ordered to return within a few hours.

Lucille had made her way to her brother and Cleric Goodeman. Even if she felt excited to leave the Bunker finally, Lucille wouldn’t want to leave her brother. But she knew he would be safe in the Bunker with Cleric Goodeman to watch him.

“I cannot believe you’re going on field,” Nicolaus stated, with shock and amazement. It wasn’t often for the younger Scribes to be sent on the outside world for assignment, especially in the presence of Elder Maxson.

“You have exceeded all expectations and I am honored to have seen you grow into quite the resilient scribe, Lucille,” the Cleric said, with great pride in his eyes. “You were among my top scribes I had recommended to Elder Maxson.”

Lucille placed her right hand over her chest, showing a sign of respect to her Cleric, who had watched her over the years. “I am very grateful, Cleric Goodeman. I am at a loss of words for this opportunity to prove myself to the Brotherhood.”

“No need, child. Just be aware the surface is dangerous, as they say,” he said. Looking over to her brother. “Scribe Nicolaus, would you please get the departing gift I had set aside for your sister? I had forgotten it in my study,” the cleric asked.

Lucille had looked to her brother as he departed out of the assembly hall. Cleric Goodeman must have known and planned ahead for her departure. As much as she was excited to go on field with her brothers and sisters, a part of her hungered to know what happened on the surface and where she had come from.

She was pulled away from her thoughts when Cleric Goodeman took her aside, watching as fellow Brotherhood company left the assembly hall.

“Lucille, my child,” he said, with pain in his eyes that crinkled. “You must heed my warning of what I am going to tell you. It is of great importance, relevant of you.”

“When you first arrived into our care as a young child, you had mentioned you lived in Vault 33 before… Shady Sands. I had never questioned you more of it as you had only mentioned it once, but it may have been your origin before you came into the care of the Brotherhood,” he whispered into her ear with great care.

This was shocking news to Lucille. She does not remember living in an underground bunker with the Brotherhood. She vaguely remembers her mother wearing blue, but she had always thought it was blue jeans or shirt.

“I - I don’t know what to say,” she said. “All I have ever known is the Brotherhood. What would people in a Vault or Vault-Tec do for me?”

“It may be of great importance if you found out where you and your brother are from,” he said. “I see the longing in your eyes to know more of Shady Sands, but Vault 33 may be where you truly originated from.”

Lucille stood there, holding onto the cleric’s hand as she took in this news. Vault 33. Shady Sands. She had always thought of Shady Sands, but not of a Vault. Is that why she had possibly become quickly acclimated to living in a bunker when she was younger? She had so many thoughts, so many questions, but short on time. She had a mission to fulfill, with the possibility of the Enclave emerging.

If she could find out more while on assignment, breathing fresh air and seeing the sun again after so many years underground, she would. She will.

“Also,” Cleric Goodeman spoke in a deeper tone. “Be aware of the clerics and your superiors in the Southwest. There are… rumors of their different ideals of how the Brotherhood of Steel should be operating.”

Her back had stiffened as he finished his warning. The news of her origin had occupied Lucille’s thoughts, but a warning to be wary of her fellow Brotherhood companions had frightened her. She had thought Elder Maxson had united all factions of the Brotherhood into a united force, but it seems if ideals could be changed.

The light footsteps of her brother jolted her as she watched him present her with a medkit filled with stimpaks, RadAways, and bandages. Buried deep at the bottom of the kit were tranquilizers and a tranquil gun. She looked to Cleric Goodeman with deep curiosity.

“I wanted to ensure you had a fully functional medkit for the field. As for the tranquil gun, that is to help you with sedation,” he murmured with a small smile.

Even though it was out of decorum and unprofessional to show affection amongst themselves, Lucille hugged both Nicolaus and Cleric Goodeman. Closing her eyes, she knew it would be a long time before she saw either of them again.

To hell with weakness in love and physical affection; these two were her family and she would deserve a lasting goodbye. If Elder Maxson was watching, she would gladly take reprimanding on her selection if she couldn’t hug them one last time.

“I am going to miss both of you so much,” Lucille said, with love before duty.

“We’re both going to miss you, as well,” Nicolaus replied, breaking up the hug to look at her.

Cleric Goodeman began to step back as he looked in the direction of Elder Maxson and other important Brotherhood leaders. “It is best if you get to packing; you will be departing soon,” he stated before walking away.

Both siblings clenched their fists over their chests in respect and left the assembly room, knowing it would be their last few moments together for a long time.

Chapter Text

Nicolaus was always quiet as a child. He is always looking around his surroundings and watching people. At first, Lucille told him that the scribes thought he was shy as a toddler when they first arrived. He would only sleep with her because she hummed him a lullaby the same way their mother did.

His first vivid memory is sleeping in the same bed with Lucille, her hugging him as he would fall asleep. Up until the age of five, he always wanted to be next to her when they woke up. One of the scribes or Cleric Goodeman would read the children they took in bedtime stories of a world above, about heros saving princesses or of Paladins saving civilians.

Nicolaus has always been a quiet child, he observed. And he knew he adored his older sister, who was always there for him.

Out of the two of them, Lucille was the one who did the talking. She was the one always taking care of him or protecting him. He was fine living her in shadow, content with not being in the center of attention. But now she was promoted to Field Scribe, and her first assignment on the surface was to find a relic that was from the Enclave. His big sister always protected him, but who would protect her?

They entered the elevator and looked at each other. They both knew that this would be their last elevator together for a while, and she would have to leave in a few hours. Nicolaus pressed the button to Level 2, and the ascent began.

Normally his sister would talk and ask how he was feeling, but she didn't say anything. Just pure silence, like she feels lost. The news of being promoted to Field Scribe to find Enclave technology must have been shocking for her.

“How are you feeling?” he asked. “...about being promoted?”

She looked to the ground. “I don’t know how to feel right now, it’s a lot to process.”

He saw her holding the med kit tightly. “Going on assignment as a Field Scribe?”

“No,” she said. “Just some things Cleric Goodeman told me about the surface.”

“Promise me, Lucille,” he said, looking directly at his sister. “Promise me you’ll communicate with me. Send us a message at least to let us know you’re okay.”

“I’ll try,” she said.

---

Lucille remembers when she was first promoted from Initiate to Scribe when she was eighteen. How she was so excited to be promoted to finally doing actual research and work for the Brotherhood of Steel. To be able to finally find out more about the world through texts, documents, and machinery, information was at her fingertips.

But eventually like with everything… the routine of mundane life in the Bunker got to her. Now, she was just randomly woken up to be promoted to Field Scribe by Elder Maxson. And she was being sent her first field assignment to be assigned to her group in the West.

And the Cleric’s words about Vault 33 and how operations of the Southwest BOS chapter are different?
It was hitting her in the elevator. She won’t be able to see her baby brother or Cleric Goodeman for some time. She at least wanted her brother to see her out when she was leaving with the other Field Scribes.

The elevator reached Level Two and they walked to Lucille’s door. She needed to pack before departing.

“Promise you’ll see me out the door when I have to go?” She questioned as she hugged him.

“Of course,” he replied, his voice muffled in her hair.

---

“My name is Lucille MacLean and I am a field scribe from the Lost Hills Bunker Chapter. I was raised under the guidance of Cleric Goodeman, after the Brotherhood had rescued my brother and I as children,” Lucille stated, introducing herself to the triad of senior Scribes and Head Scribe Quinlan in a meeting room aboard the Prydwen.

She was nervous at first having to state her skill set to the Scribes aboard the Prydwen as she did not know they would be reviewing the newly promoted Field Scribes from the Lost Hills Bunker. Lucille had heard the Scribes that personally worked under Elder Maxson were very very thorough.

“I am well-versed in identifying technologies and artifacts, particularly from Pre-War companies such as Vault-Tec and Robco. My science skills are up to date, but my primary skills are rooted in American History, with a focus on ethics. I participate in basic combat training and weapons training, though I am not the best. In my personal time, I volunteer helping in the Medbay with first aid and crisis prevention and hold a book club discussing Pre-War literature,” she further elaborated, feeling more confident stating her skillset to her elder Scribes.

Proctor Scribe Quinlan was reading her file he had received from Lost Hills, inspecting her documents.

“Though this is my first mission to the surface as a Field Scribe, I am readily equipped to help aid the Brotherhood in our mission,” Lucille finished.

“Scribe MacLean, may I ask what does Vault-Tec mean to you?” Quinlan questioned, putting her file down.

The question had thrown her off guard. Perhaps it was a question for her to answer because she knew of Vault-Tec technology as she had stated?

”Vault-Tec was a Pre-War company that had built many Vaults across the United States of Am-”

“I meant what does Vault-Tec personally mean to you. It states here on your file that as a child you had mentioned “Vault 33” as your source of origin. Do you recall your life living in a vault?” Quinlan asked.

Lucille stayed quiet for a moment as she had remembered what Cleric Goodeman had told her. When you first arrived into our care as a young child, you had mentioned you lived in Vault 33 before… Shady Sands.

She was still processing the fact that she may have been born in a Vault, especially from a Pre-War company like Vault-Tec.

She was hesitant to reply. “No sir, I do not… recall my life as a child from… Vault 33? I only remember my life before the Brotherhood living in a town called Shady Sands. But I was young when I was taken in by the Brotherhood so… I may have mentioned it when I was young.”

“I am just asking because… it is not the first time someone from a Vault had aided the Brotherhood before. Third time’s the charm, it seems, though it is very clear you were raised by Brotherhood standards,” he commented.

“May I ask, sir, that there were Vault Dwellers that previously aided the Brotherhood?” Lucille asked, having never heard of this news before.

Quinlan looked excited, as if Lucille had uncovered a topic of interest to him.

“Oh yes, both in the Capitol Wasteland and the Commonwealth,” he said. “They had helped us in our missions to fight the Enclave and the Institute.”

Some of the other Scribes had talked amongst themselves while Quinlan had gone off topic about how without the Vault Dwellers, the Brotherhood wouldn’t have been without them. Bringing back Quinlan’s attention on vetting Lucille, they had all agreed Lucille was ready to go on the field.

“Scribe MacLean, you are to be sent to the Boneyard Chapter to meet your assigned squad,” one of the Head Scribes said.

Lucille put her fist to her chest. “Thank you. Ad Victoriam," she said.

“Scribe MacLean, you have my permission to go on with your proceedings. Word of advice, try to acquire a Pip-Boy, those artifacts are more handy than you think. It worked for our Sole Survivor back in the Commonwealth,” Quinlan ended.

---

Lessons from the Clerics were not Maximus’ forte. It was mind-boggling at best that they were all expected to remember all the relics, artifacts, and technology. He didn’t expect to get hit on the nose with a ruler for not answering “circuit.”

It was already a rough start to his day, he had already gotten his daily beating from his fellow Aspirants. What else could make it worse?

Life was already mundane for him. The daily beatings, physical conditioning, the lessons. It was all the same, every single day. And yet, he dreamed of one day becoming a Knight, donning on T-60 Power Armor.

It’s what kept him going, to keep dreaming of the Brotherhood of Steel.

Life before the bombs dropped, was just a dream. A distant memory of his mother hiding him in a milk vending machine to see a Brotherhood Paladin, his knight in shining armor, coming to protect him.

Sometimes, he would find himself thinking of a girl he would play with, running through rows of cornfields and dirt. He couldn’t remember her name, but he knew they both went to the same school.

Maximus couldn’t help but think of whether the girl he knew as a child ever survived the bombing of Shady Sands, if she was found by the Brotherhood or survived some way on her own. It comforted him to think of this when his family and loved ones from his past were dead.

“Aspirant Maximus!”

He looked up startled, seeing the Cleric holding a pamphlet of something. Honestly, he doesn’t know.

“Can you identify this relic?”

Behind the Knights, several Scribes appeared on the tarmac. Maximus had seen Scribes before in their robes, but these Scribes. They were dressed differently in what looked like tactical gear. Red and black garments with chest rigs lined with plenty of pockets. The way they were dressed and how they carried themselves, Scribes were prepared for their field assignments.

One Scribe particularly caught his eye. She wore a hat, her hair tied back, and her bangs whipping from the wind. She looked beautiful to him. The way her eyes looked at everything in awe, soaking up the sight of their mundane Brotherhood base.

She looked beautiful, combat-ready for a Scribe on a mission. It wasn’t often to see Scribes dressed in tactical gear, normally in their robes.

Part of him felt like he had met her before, perhaps in another lifetime or a dream. It felt like he had met her before, but he just didn’t know where.

---

Lucille was nervous, but tried to be positively excited for her first field assignment.

Head Scribe Haylen stated that on the Prydwen, they would be assigned a group for their mission. Normally on the East Coast branch of the Brotherhood, they had operated with Scribes being assigned to Paladins or Knights in T-60 armor. Here, they will be assigned to a Knight and a Squire. They are to be assigned their mission upon departure with their group.

“Scribe Lucille,” one of the clerics said. “You will be assigned to Knight Titus. You are to attend his Squire initiation later this afternoon.”

“Yes sir,” said she, saluting to the cleric.

“The Mojave Chapter of the Brotherhood has not been heard for a long time now…” she overheard a Cleric talking to another.

Lucille grew up with the knowledge that there were other BOS chapters hidden throughout the West Coast. She once heard about a Scribe who had traveled from the East near New Vegas, looking for a new chapter to belong that arrived late in the night to Lost Hills.

The Boneyard Chapter of the Brotherhood seemed rougher than her chapter. She had passed by some Initiates fighting one another, like bullies picking on the weaker ones. It was interesting how some of the leaders did not try to break apart the fights.

The surface was bright, rough, and too hot than what she was used to. Lucille hopes the Wasteland is kind enough to her, to help her search for what she had lost so long ago.

---

Lucille stood in the corner as she had observed the Squire initiation of Knight Titus. The smoke from the incense and candles made her eyes squirt, reminding her of the Cleric’s chants back at Lost Hills.

An aspirant kneeled before a Cleric ready for his Squire ceremony. Never had she attended a ceremony where supposedly a Knight or Paladin brands their Squires, at least with her chapter of the Brotherhood.

Lost Hills Bunker chapter had done their anointments and ceremonies in the form of mentors giving out speeches and the firm Ad Victoriam salute. Just like with her promotion for becoming a Field Scribe.

Perhaps this is what Cleric Goodeman meant with how the Southwest chapter had different ideas for how the Brotherhood operates? She knows better than to say anything.

Different chapters have different traditions, it seemed.

“Aspirant Maximus,” the cleric stated.

So that’s his name… Maximus. It sounds familiar, Lucille thought.

“It is your most sacred duty to protect the Brotherhood, after which it is your most sacred duty to protect the mission, after which it is your most sacred duty to protect your lord Knight Titus,” the cleric continued.

Lucille watched as Knight Titus had his hand over the flame, how the fire met metal and steel creating an orange hue ready to burn.
“Do you accept?”

She saw as Maximus nodded his head. She flinched slightly as she heard the hissing from the marking on Maximus’ back.

Lucille was surprised that he did not whimper in pain as she would have, but this is the Brotherhood of Steel. They are forged from fire and steel, they do not cry that easily.

---

As they had marched uniformly in line and with their groups, Maximus had met eyes with the pretty Scribe he saw from yesterday.

She gave him a polite smile and nod before looking forward to Elder Cleric Quintus. He didn’t even know her name yet, but for some odd reason he was happy they were assigned to the same squad.

“Our mission comes from the highest clerics in the Commonwealth. It is believed that a denizen of the Enclave has escaped. And that he has with him an object… of profound potential… to harm our nation or save it,” Elder Cleric Quintus stated.

From his peripherals, he could see her looking forward, her gaze intent on their mission. Sharp as a Scribe should be.

“Each knight in this legion will search a section of the Wilds for this target,” the Elder continued. “Brothers… We exist for moments such as these. Go forth with honor! And may the shape of the future be cut by your sword!"

The Aspirants began to hand the Scribes and Squires papers containing sketches of the target and companion.

Thaddeus hands him the papers. “Approximation of the target for your lord,” he said.

There was a feeling of glee, surfacing in Maximus. All the bruises and injuries he sustained over the years from Thaddeus and his goons made it worth it to see it on his face. That he, an Aspirant, was handing him information to him, a Squire.

“You’re dismissed, Aspirant.”

Folding the papers, he saw the Knights marching towards the vertibirds. Already, the Scribe assigned to his group walked past him, her ponytail bobbing with each step.

With the heavy pack on his back, he ran towards the vertibird that Knight Titus jumped onto. With her getting on the vertibird, she turned to him.

“My name is Scribe Lucille MacLean and I am assigned to your team,” she said with a smile, her pretty green eyes looked over him curiously and she offered him a hand. “Do you need help with that?”