Star Paladin Cross
The Metro tunnel was as black and cramped as any Ellen had ever had to navigate, and it smelled, frankly, of feral ghoul. There was a peculiar combination of rad-sickness and a scavenger's diet to the air about them, and given that one of the first things to go when the radiation madness took them was any sense of hygiene... well. It was the sort of stench one could black out but never entirely ignore. It made Ellen miss her old suit's helmet and its air filters nearly as much as gunfire did.
The ferals here were dead, though. Some'd been dead for a long time, shot by long gone travelers. Most had been shot by Ellen and Cross. There were an awful lot of them, regardless. Ellen eyed the withered, ravaged corpses within the circle of her Pip-Boy's light and quailed inwardly. How many did she have to lay straight, now? How many more were lurking up ahead?
Dogmeat nosed at the back of her leg, but it was Star Paladin Cross's touch on her shoulder that brought Ellen back to herself. "Are you all right?" the older woman asked. "We can stop for a moment, if you need it."
"I- I'm sorry," Ellen stammered. "I just-" She gestured helplessly towards the nearest set of shriveled feet. "It gets to you, after a while..."
"You get used to it in time," said Cross, not unkindly. "Do you want some help with them?"
"Please?' said Ellen. "They were people once."
Cross nodded and crouched down beside the nearest corpse. She said nothing as they worked, merely did her part. When Ellen bowed her head to pray, Cross stood and watched, one hand resting lightly on Dogmeat's head. Ellen didn't know exactly what to think about that. The ghouls in Underworld had all told her that the Brotherhood soldiers stationed near the Mall were assholes who'd take a potshot at any ghoul they saw just for kicks, and there'd been all the dead supermutants, of course. But there'd also been Knight-Captain Colvin and his solemn Five mutants, released from their torment. And now this...
"Is something wrong?" said Cross as Ellen straightened up.
It wasn't a safe position to be in, Ellen knew that, but if she didn't ask now she probably never would. Drawing a deep breath (and regretting it immediately- oh, God, it smelled in here), she said, "Star Paladin Cross? What- what does the Brotherhood of Steel believe?"
Cross's helmet tilted curiously. "About what?" the armored woman said.
"About- in general. Just... everything. What's important. What does the Brotherhood believe?"
Cross was silent for a moment. Eventually, she said, "We believe in technology, in the triumph of the creations of the ancients over the horrors and evils of the Wasteland." She glanced for just a moment at the stretched-out ghoul dead. "We believe in trust. Trust in technology. Trust in our fellow Brothers. Trust in our Elders. Ah, and we believe in victory." Her voice, filtered by the helmet, warmed a little. "Our forces have dwindled, but still we fight on. Super mutant, Enclave, it matters not. Surrender is not an option."
It wasn't what Ellen had expected, but then, she wasn't exactly sure what she'd been expecting to start with. "I... see," she said. "I think, anyway."
"Can I ask what prompted this?"
"Well-" Ellen looked back at the ghoul corpses again. "I don't... know your people very well. I mean, I know you protected my father and his work before I was born, and I know that the Brotherhood was supposed to be looking for technology instead of protecting people, and you're helping me now, and- well... I don't know. I don't know anything about your people."
"I see," said Cross. "Would a little history help, do you think?"
"It might."
Cross nodded, and gestured to Ellen to sit down on a chunk of concrete with her back to the wall. She took up a position of her own that gave her a good clear field of fire in case some maddened ghoul came at them out of the shadows, waited for Dogmeat to do the same, and began.
"The Brotherhood of Steel began in the days and weeks just after the Great War, when Roger Maxson led a band of American soldiers out of the California desert wastes to the old government bunker at Lost Hills. When they arrived, they fortified the bunker and made it their home. From there they set out on their mission to recover what technology they could, both to develop it for the future of all humanity and to keep it out of the wrong hands. For many, many years, that was all we knew of our beginnings. We know more than that now, but only a handful of the Brotherhood study the old records unearthed at Mariposa to any great degree. Scribes, mostly. I myself know the oldest histories mostly because I serve as Elder Lyons' seneschal, and it is my duty to understand."
"Mariposa," Ellen said. "I've heard that name before. From a man who'd been there-" She opted not to mention Harold's current state. "He mentioned green goo, and huge vats..."
"Yes." Cross shook her head. "I've read about those. Mariposa was a foul and evil place. Before the War it had been a military base, an isolated center of study. There had been experiments done there in secret- vile things- on human test subjects. When the soldiers who served as guards found out what was being done under their very noses, they revolted. It was Roger Maxson who kept them together, and who kept them and their families alive during the War. When they left that place they sealed it as best they could, but it wasn't enough. Eventually, the place was found again."
Ellen shivered, the stink around her momentarily forgotten.
"It wasn't until Maxson's grandson's time that the truth was uncovered. Mariposa, and the vats, were where the supermutants came from."
"What?"
Cross nodded. "The Brotherhood has been battling supermutants for decades. First out west, then in the ruins of Chicago, now here. This group is different from the ones we've long known. Physically, yes, but mentally as well. If we knew where they came from, we'd know why. And, I hope, how to stop them."
Ellen just shook her head slowly. "I... wow. Is... is that why you're here? The Brotherhood, I mean, hunting mutants out here instead of California?"
"No. The High Elders sent Elder Lyons and his people across the continent to recover what could be found in the old tech strongholds of the East," Cross said. "We've found many things since that time. We've lost communication with the Western Brotherhood, and had to manage on our own. And we've changed. The Lyons Doctrine of protection for the people of the Wastes being as important to humanity's future as acquisition of technology is central to our operations now. Some disagree with it, but I for one wouldn't have it any other way."
It was a lot to digest; Ellen nodded, eyes on a patch of torn-up train track but not really seeing. There was too much there to think about.
"That being said," Cross added in a calm but firm tone, "we've lingered here too long already. We should be going, if we expect to reach Vernon Square before night falls on the surface."
"... all right."
The ferals here were dead, though. Some'd been dead for a long time, shot by long gone travelers. Most had been shot by Ellen and Cross. There were an awful lot of them, regardless. Ellen eyed the withered, ravaged corpses within the circle of her Pip-Boy's light and quailed inwardly. How many did she have to lay straight, now? How many more were lurking up ahead?
Dogmeat nosed at the back of her leg, but it was Star Paladin Cross's touch on her shoulder that brought Ellen back to herself. "Are you all right?" the older woman asked. "We can stop for a moment, if you need it."
"I- I'm sorry," Ellen stammered. "I just-" She gestured helplessly towards the nearest set of shriveled feet. "It gets to you, after a while..."
"You get used to it in time," said Cross, not unkindly. "Do you want some help with them?"
"Please?' said Ellen. "They were people once."
Cross nodded and crouched down beside the nearest corpse. She said nothing as they worked, merely did her part. When Ellen bowed her head to pray, Cross stood and watched, one hand resting lightly on Dogmeat's head. Ellen didn't know exactly what to think about that. The ghouls in Underworld had all told her that the Brotherhood soldiers stationed near the Mall were assholes who'd take a potshot at any ghoul they saw just for kicks, and there'd been all the dead supermutants, of course. But there'd also been Knight-Captain Colvin and his solemn Five mutants, released from their torment. And now this...
"Is something wrong?" said Cross as Ellen straightened up.
It wasn't a safe position to be in, Ellen knew that, but if she didn't ask now she probably never would. Drawing a deep breath (and regretting it immediately- oh, God, it smelled in here), she said, "Star Paladin Cross? What- what does the Brotherhood of Steel believe?"
Cross's helmet tilted curiously. "About what?" the armored woman said.
"About- in general. Just... everything. What's important. What does the Brotherhood believe?"
Cross was silent for a moment. Eventually, she said, "We believe in technology, in the triumph of the creations of the ancients over the horrors and evils of the Wasteland." She glanced for just a moment at the stretched-out ghoul dead. "We believe in trust. Trust in technology. Trust in our fellow Brothers. Trust in our Elders. Ah, and we believe in victory." Her voice, filtered by the helmet, warmed a little. "Our forces have dwindled, but still we fight on. Super mutant, Enclave, it matters not. Surrender is not an option."
It wasn't what Ellen had expected, but then, she wasn't exactly sure what she'd been expecting to start with. "I... see," she said. "I think, anyway."
"Can I ask what prompted this?"
"Well-" Ellen looked back at the ghoul corpses again. "I don't... know your people very well. I mean, I know you protected my father and his work before I was born, and I know that the Brotherhood was supposed to be looking for technology instead of protecting people, and you're helping me now, and- well... I don't know. I don't know anything about your people."
"I see," said Cross. "Would a little history help, do you think?"
"It might."
Cross nodded, and gestured to Ellen to sit down on a chunk of concrete with her back to the wall. She took up a position of her own that gave her a good clear field of fire in case some maddened ghoul came at them out of the shadows, waited for Dogmeat to do the same, and began.
"The Brotherhood of Steel began in the days and weeks just after the Great War, when Roger Maxson led a band of American soldiers out of the California desert wastes to the old government bunker at Lost Hills. When they arrived, they fortified the bunker and made it their home. From there they set out on their mission to recover what technology they could, both to develop it for the future of all humanity and to keep it out of the wrong hands. For many, many years, that was all we knew of our beginnings. We know more than that now, but only a handful of the Brotherhood study the old records unearthed at Mariposa to any great degree. Scribes, mostly. I myself know the oldest histories mostly because I serve as Elder Lyons' seneschal, and it is my duty to understand."
"Mariposa," Ellen said. "I've heard that name before. From a man who'd been there-" She opted not to mention Harold's current state. "He mentioned green goo, and huge vats..."
"Yes." Cross shook her head. "I've read about those. Mariposa was a foul and evil place. Before the War it had been a military base, an isolated center of study. There had been experiments done there in secret- vile things- on human test subjects. When the soldiers who served as guards found out what was being done under their very noses, they revolted. It was Roger Maxson who kept them together, and who kept them and their families alive during the War. When they left that place they sealed it as best they could, but it wasn't enough. Eventually, the place was found again."
Ellen shivered, the stink around her momentarily forgotten.
"It wasn't until Maxson's grandson's time that the truth was uncovered. Mariposa, and the vats, were where the supermutants came from."
"What?"
Cross nodded. "The Brotherhood has been battling supermutants for decades. First out west, then in the ruins of Chicago, now here. This group is different from the ones we've long known. Physically, yes, but mentally as well. If we knew where they came from, we'd know why. And, I hope, how to stop them."
Ellen just shook her head slowly. "I... wow. Is... is that why you're here? The Brotherhood, I mean, hunting mutants out here instead of California?"
"No. The High Elders sent Elder Lyons and his people across the continent to recover what could be found in the old tech strongholds of the East," Cross said. "We've found many things since that time. We've lost communication with the Western Brotherhood, and had to manage on our own. And we've changed. The Lyons Doctrine of protection for the people of the Wastes being as important to humanity's future as acquisition of technology is central to our operations now. Some disagree with it, but I for one wouldn't have it any other way."
It was a lot to digest; Ellen nodded, eyes on a patch of torn-up train track but not really seeing. There was too much there to think about.
"That being said," Cross added in a calm but firm tone, "we've lingered here too long already. We should be going, if we expect to reach Vernon Square before night falls on the surface."
"... all right."