[The Brotherhood of Steel as an organization has always been rather flexible and in some ways, this was one of their greatest assets. Each chapter could operate autonomously of each other and organize themselves however they see fit. Which ensures that a Chapter could function at 100% even without contact from the High Elder and the council. If their objectives are accomplished, the Elder Council never looked too deeply at a Brotherhood Chapter's personal operations.
It's this laissez-faire leadership that inevitably led to the creation of opposing ideals regarding the Brotherhood's future, forming. We all know how that ended, a civil war that nearly ruined most of the wasteland and resulted in a death tally that could only be rivalled by Old World conflicts. In short, it was a massive cluster fuck.] -
Excerpt from 'A Brotherhood of Steel and Violence' by Jonathan Wilford
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[For as long as it has existed, the Brotherhood of steel's one goal has always been the collection, preservation, and regulation of technology to prevent a repeat of the Great War. While this goal is noble, the way the Brotherhood conducts itself lacks efficiency and pragmatism.
From the moment some cavemen first lit a fire to the moment the wheel evolved into the gear; humans have always been striving to survive in the most efficient manner possible to compensate for our lack of physical ability when compared to other predators. That's something the Brotherhood currently can't understand. True, humanity might have stumbled after the Great War, but that doesn't mean they won't pick up their feet and start over again. Simply put, the Brotherhood's modus operandi of forcefully confiscating dangerous technology might work now, but eventually, people will start rebuilding again.
They'll rebuild cities and societies until eventually they'll start rebuilding technology too and what will the Brotherhood do then? The simple truth of the matter is that it's impossible to halt human progression, if curiosity and ingenuity exist, some mad scientist out there would be willing to create something different or unique. Just like how humanity discovered fire it's not difficult to imagine that someone could accidentally start a snowball effect of discovery
As such I propose a solution to this dilemma. The Brotherhood's goal is to collect dangerous technology but instead of doing that I propose that we personally Shepard humanity in the right direction. We need to spread our message and educate people on the mistakes of the Old World. Its inevitably that humanity will start developing again so it would be beneficial to the Brotherhood if we could control the direction and rate of that development either as a governing body or an advisory to one. That way our interests could be met and protected on a wider scale as humanity continues to grow.]
Two boys walked through an empty hallway. One had short black hair and brown eyes and the other had bright red hair with green eyes. The boy with black hair held a piece of paper in his hand that he had finished reading as he looked up to see expectant green eyes.
"It's a work in progress but its heading in the right direction. What do you think?" There was a thinly veiled sense of curiosity and uncertainty in that question.
" Its… something." The black-haired boy gave a timid chuckle as he gave the paper to his partner.
The redhead frowned for a bit, "Come on Arthur you know I'm serious about this, I need your opinion. Is it that bad?"
"No!" Arthur answered back frantically before wincing at how loud he was, "It's just…you know what Brotherhood thinks about this stuff."
The redhead merely shrugged, "The truth is a hard pill to swallow, but it will set you free, the Brotherhood will learn to understand." The boy reassured his friend, but he equally reassured himself.
Arthur looked over his shoulder for a moment before leaning closer and lowering his voice," This is serious Richard. This goes against everything we stand for, everything the Codex teaches."
Richard gave Arthur a heated glare and halted in his tracks," You think I don't know that, Arthur. I know that this could be dangerous for me, but someone must speak up and do something otherwise we might not see the coming decades. I have look to the future because everyone else it stuck looking at the past."
"You don't know that." Arthur avoided eye contact as he whispered back, "Everything this paper says is based on a theory, It's all just 'What ifs' . No one can predict the future and you're no exception." He finally looked up to meet green eyes.
There was a moment of silence between the two as they locked eyes, neither refusing to back out until Richard looked away and continued walking," You can't halt human progress Arthur, I know that to be fact. They won't stay barbaric waste landers forever."
Richard walked on and didn't look back and after a while Arthur started to follow him. They both knew where they were going, having done this hundreds of times however this time it would be different.
Because tonight would be their last time.
Because they were mere squires, they weren't allowed anywhere near the Armoury, but you'd be surprised how creative two motivated ten-year-olds could be. That and the fact that most of the knights were out in the in wasteland means that besides a few protectrons patrolling the area there was nothing really stopping them if they were careful.
The problem with robots in general was that at the end of the day no matter how advanced they were they usually fell back into repetition. They might be able to solve a dozen calculations in a second, but they would never be able to think like a human. That's why it was ridiculously easy for the two boys
Once they were inside, they immediately walked towards their target. It was in the very end of the armoury hidden in a dark corner.
A suit of T-45 Power Armour.
Sadly, it was a sight for sore eyes. Its eye slit was cracked, there were noticeable dents around the pauldrons and chest plate. The right arm was missing its armour plating leaving the Power Armour frame outright exposed.
It when without saying that the armour was a wreck, there were signs of rust here and there that showed how long it had been there and considering the fact that the boys had been coming here since they could walk it must have been a very long time.
"It's still so awesome" Arthur said with a look of wonder
"I know" Richard answered back with equal joy.
Sure, it was a withered thing but that didn't stop the two from imagining all the battles that this armour participated in. They liked to dream of what they would do when they got their own suit of armour, side by side they planned on killing Deathclaws and Super mutants.
Fanciful dreams that no longer seemed possible.
"I can't believe you're leaving tomorrow" Arthur said dejectedly. To Arthur, Richard was his one and only true friend, someone who saw him as just 'Arthur' instead of 'Arthur Maxon'. He knew that the moment Richard left things would change, there would be no more playing around.
Richard gave Arthur a strong pat on the back and put on his best reassuring smile, "Come on Arthur, if anything I should be the one disheartened for you. Without me you're going to be stuck with all these bootlickers and that's not even mentioning your mother." Richard noticeably grimaced when he finished his sentence.
Arthur slightly chuckled at his friend's reaction, "She still hates your guts by the way. She thinks you're a back influence who distracts me from my studies and she's not wrong in that regard."
The mock accusation drew forth a snort from Richard, "Oh what is she going to do? I'm going to Chicago Arthur; she can hate on me all she wants but there's nothing she can do to me now."
Richard expected a retort from his friend but all he received was silence. When he looked over, he saw how Arthur shifted nervously and seemed to be incapable of staring at him.
"What?" Richard asked with a tilted head
"Well…"
Richard narrowed his eyes, "Arthur, spill it."
"My mom recommended you for the expedition"
Richard instantly straightened up. Jessica Maxson had a long-standing grudge against him, any gift or reward she might offer needed to be checked for poison or a bomb, "Why?"
Arthur instinctually looked around; he knew that they were alone, but he was just far too paranoid, "This expedition is not a normal one Richard. You know about the recent debate regarding the inclusion of outsiders to bolster our ranks, well the council has determined that those supporting such ideals are too radical and need to be sent away to not influence others."
"Does she…" Richard paused. He didn't know if it was because he was too scared to ask or too scared to know the answer, "Does she know about what I'm writing? Did you…"
Arthur's eyes widened, "No, of course not. I didn't tell her anything, she only recommended you because she doesn't like you."
Richard sighed in relief and then he started laughing, "She's falsely accusing me as a radical, but she doesn't know that she's right. Oh, the irony!"
He kept laughing until he felt a hand on his shoulder, he looked over to see the worried expression on his best friend.
"Just promise me you'll be safe, Richard. I have a bad feeling about this."
Richard simply smiled, "Oh please, what's the worst that could happen?"
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Hell
This had to be hell made manifest.
Everywhere I looked all I could see were the large flames and suffocating fumes. My T-45 power armour's air filter should have protected me from the smoke and ash, but it seemed that it had taken much damage from the crash because I could smell it. All my helmet seemed to really do was make breathing more difficult as I struggled to breath while inside this iron sarcophagus that limited my air supply.
I rushed to take off my helmet as I greedily inhaled as much oxygen as I could even if it was tainted.
Then I clearly heard it. The begging, the screaming, the crying it all came rushing to me like a wave as I finally took note of my surroundings.
Some were impaled by large pieces of jagged metal.
Some were burned alive as they screamed to salvation that never came.
Some simply stood frozen as the world burned around them.
This was hell
I forced myself to move despite the internal pain I felt. The T-45 was said to protect users from high altitude drops but I doubted that the developers had ever accounted for a drop from an airship and even if the armour could stand it, it's not like the user could survive.
But still considering that it could have been worse for me I was glad I at least had all my limbs still attached.
Slowly but surely, I started walking slightly faster having adjusted to the pain. In truth I didn't even know where I was going but I knew that I couldn't just stand there, my squad was still out there possibly dead. However, my conviction did waver when I caught a glimpse of someone familiar bleeding out on the wreckage, I found myself walking closer to properly inspect the body and nearly jumped when the still corpse's hand suddenly reached out to grab my armoured leg.
"H-Help," It was barely a whisper but somehow, I had heard it.
"Knight-Captain, what a surprised," I was faintly surprised by the sheer apathy in my voice but at the same time I was not surprised considering our shared history.
Knight-Captain Gael Holden was the leader of the 10th Company of this now decimated Brotherhood Expedition Fleet, if one world was used to describe Gael it would be envy. The man was as unremarkable and talentless as they come which was something he was painfully aware of; he didn't have the skills to rise far in the Brotherhood ranks and he knew that the only way he would ever go beyond being a mere Knight-Captain was if someone higher up dropped dead. Gael was left staring as people better (and younger) than him shoot through the ranks becoming renowned warriors while he remained the same.
If one were to feel pity for him, I would recommend you don't because Gael had quickly developed the habit of taking out his career frustrations on his subordinates. He'd mock, belittle and sometimes outright abuse (under the guise of training) anyone who he saw as another rising star with some having the unfortunate luck of having 'training accidents' while at the same time uplifting the incompetent and incapable. Whether he did this because he saw himself in them or liked their bootlicking I didn't care.
But the one thing I did care about was the fact that Gael Holden, the rabid dog of the 10th Company, was at my feet begging me to save him.
The sheer audacity, the gall this man had after everything he's done to me, to everyone in my squad made me want to skin this… thing alive slowly but I wasn't going to give him the satisfaction of my time and so with practised ease I raise my foot above his head.
I savoured the look on his face, how he seemed to not understand what was going on. I saw how he opened his mouth, but I quickly brought down my armoured foot down silencing him before he could even speak. The sound of a crunch as I twisted my foot so that it could marinate in his brain matter had seemed strangely euphoric.
But I couldn't waste more time I have a squad to find.
"You do realize you just committed treason, right? That's punishable by death." I momentarily froze at having be caught and for a moment, a brief moment I considered killing the only witness, but I quickly shook away such thoughts.
I turned to address the voice and saw a boy laying on the ground. He had red hair that seemed to stand out even amidst the inferno that surrounded us. I briefly wonder how I could have missed him but then I noticed how he didn't seem to react to anything around him. He didn't gasp in pain or cry out; he didn't even try to get me to help him.
He had just silently laid there as I passed him.
As I stepped ever closer, I noticed how familiar his green eyes felt to me. He had that same look that I often saw on the battlefield and on a mirror.
The look of someone who had given up trying.
"I can't believe this is how it ends" The boy let out hollow laughter. "Arthur's going to be pissed."
"You'll survive." I was no doctor, but I had seen enough battles to understand what wounds were lethal and what were not.
I slowly knelt beside the boy which cause a loud crash because of the weight of my armour. I shifted my gaze from the boy's wounds towards his green eyes once again.
"I am Knight-sergeant Andrew Blackwell of the 10th Company." I didn't know why I had said that, the information was practically useless considering their current situation. Was I trying to comfort the boy perhaps?
"I'm Richard and you just killed my mentor." The corner of the boy's lips twitch and a spark of amusement flashed through.
"I'm willing to bet he was a shit mentor."
"You'd be right, Sergeant."