Vallincourt
It was her third day at the Citadel since delivering the Enclave holotapes to the Scribes. Ellen had been studying her copy of the Brotherhood Codex for some time when she realized someone was rapping at the door of her impromptu study room. "Just a minute," she said, sliding a battered scrap of pre-war money in between the pages. "I'll be right there."
She opened the door to the sight of a familiar face. " Pek?" she said, startled. "Is that you?"
"Knight 101. Hail." The redhead's shoulders hunched, a brief, involuntary gesture. "It's Initiate Pek, actually," he said, and in an undertone added, "it's still Initiate."
"Oh. Um. I'm sorry to hear that," Ellen said. "I... didn't know you'd been tested."
"I don't seem to have a lot of luck in that department," Pek said. "Paladin Gunny says I can come back for a retesting in another month."
Given the desperate need for field soldiers to face the Enclave, that couldn't mean anything good at all. Ellen wondered if it would be all right for her to suggest that Pek consider asking to change from the martial side of the Brotherhood to one of the Scribe orders instead. Not for long, though- Pek thrust out a clipboard. "In the meantime, I was told to deliver your new orders."
"Oh! Thank you-" She hesitated a bare moment before adding, "Initiate."
"At your service, ma'am," said Pek.
He was still standing there. Why was he still standing there? What did- oh. "Dismissed," Ellen said, and to her immense relief Pek nodded and left.
Okay. That was strange. The Initiates at Gunny's training ground had been one thing, but getting actual deference from somebody she knew (even if only a tiny bit)... Ellen hadn't really thought through the implications of having an actual rank before. She'd more or less just assumed that all it meant was that she'd be fighting the Enclave and the mutants alongside the other Knights and taking orders from the Paladins. What had happened with Pek... that was just weird. She sighed and turned her attention to the clipboard instead.
Five minutes later she was in the Citadel lab, saluting Paladin Tristan and a Scribe she'd never met before. "Nice work you did back there, 101," said Tristan as he returned the gesture. "I'm told we should be getting something extremely useful out of that data you retrieved. Unfortunately, we don't have time to sit around and wait for the analysis to finish."
The Scribe, a brown-haired, slender woman in red robes perhaps a size too large for her, gave Tristan a sour look. He ignored it. "Based on what I've seen of you so far," he continued, "there's an assignment I believe you're well suited for."
"I'm ready for more, sir," Ellen said. She'd been sitting around the Citadel waiting for far too long anyway. "What do you need?"
Tristan grunted. "With the setbacks we suffered at that satellite station, we find ourselves in a difficult position," he said. "All our available resources need to be positioned for the inevitable counter-attack from the Enclave. At the same time, the Order of the Sword believes they may have developed a tool that'll help our chances of victory- something to help compensate for Prime's loss. We can't afford to send more than one or two people on a recovery mission to make that happen, though."
Ellen blinked at that. Recovery mission? Of what? The image that briefly rose before her eyes was of herself and Fawkes trying to wrestle Liberty Prime's head onto a wagon and haul it back across the Wasteland.
"So I'm going to have you travel to the Olney Powerworks to secure some tech for us."
Wait. Olney? Where she got her armor? Where all the Deathclaws lived? And they were sending her alone? Okay, with Fawkes and Dogmeat, most likely, but still! "What kind of tech?" she said carefully, vaguely proud of the fact that her voice didn't squeak at the thought.
"Hopefully the ruins of the old power plant should still have at least one working Tesla coil, an experimental device from before the War," Tristan said. "Our Scribes need it to complete a little surprise they've been preparing for the Enclave. You and your companions need to get there, get the coil, and get back as safely and quickly as possible. Any questions?"
How do you expect me to not die? leapt to mind. What came out instead was, "Ah... I've been to Olney before, sir. It's a dangerous place. Can I... I don't know, requisition something to help me get in and out alive?"
"That'd be where Scribe Vallincourt here comes in," said Tristan, nodding to the woman in red. "She's been working on some of the Enclave tech we've recovered. Vallincourt?"
"Oh-" The woman straightened up sharply. "I can provide something. Well- maybe. I mean, possibly. I think so, but I'm not certain." Tristan eyed her, his expression cool and neutral. "I don't know how much this will actually help. I mean, I'm not quite sure how effective it might be, since it hasn't really been field tested..."
"Vallincourt," said Tristan, his tone a warning: I have one nerve left, and you are getting on it.
"Right! Yes. I think I've figured out a way to override the signals the Enclave is using to control their Deathclaws."
Their Deathclaws? Ellen almost said. Then she remembered the long silent walk through Raven Rock, and the room her guard had said was the Deathclaw pen area, and stayed silent.
"Here, take this." Vallincourt thrust a brown-and-silver box at Ellen. Several lights and gauges blinked up at her from its surface. "It's my main prototype, so please don't lose it."
"What is it, exactly?"
"It's a semi-standard transmitter, only I altered the frequency modulation and jacked up the output." Vallincourt beamed proudly. "Based on some experiments I ran here in the lab it should override the signals the Enclave uses to control Deathclaws and render any controlled animals obedient to you instead. Don't worry, it's always transmitting. You can't turn it off unless you destroy it- so please don't destroy it or lose it."
"Okay," Ellen said, and started looking for a belt pouch to stash it in.
"And so far I have no evidence of adverse effects of EM interference in humans," Vallincourt went on. "Animals, maybe, but not humans."
Ellen looked up sharply at that. "How do you mean? Is it going to hurt Dogmeat?"
"No, no, not unless you have him carrying it around in his mouth for long periods of time- so don't do that," Vallincourt said. "Anyway, it doesn't have a huge broadcast range, but it should be enough. There've been reports of an Enclave encampment southeast of Olney with a number of docile Deathclaws. I'd suggest testing it out there and turning the beasts against their masters instead of getting shot at yourself."
To be honest Ellen had hoped to avoid Enclave notice altogether as long as it was just her and Fawkes and Dogmeat, but she nodded anyway. "Thank you," she said. "I'll let you know."
"I hope the scrambler ends up being useful," Vallincourt said. "I'd hate to have spent all this time working on it and get no results... or bad results. That would be worse."
"Scribe Vallincourt? You're not by any chance from Canterbury Commons, are you?"
"No, not that I know of," said Vallincourt. "Why do you ask?"
"Just wondering." Ellen tucked the device away. "Thank you, Scribe Vallincourt, Paladin Tristan. I should go find Fawkes..."
"Dismissed," said Tristan. "Good luck and Godspeed, 101."
She opened the door to the sight of a familiar face. " Pek?" she said, startled. "Is that you?"
"Knight 101. Hail." The redhead's shoulders hunched, a brief, involuntary gesture. "It's Initiate Pek, actually," he said, and in an undertone added, "it's still Initiate."
"Oh. Um. I'm sorry to hear that," Ellen said. "I... didn't know you'd been tested."
"I don't seem to have a lot of luck in that department," Pek said. "Paladin Gunny says I can come back for a retesting in another month."
Given the desperate need for field soldiers to face the Enclave, that couldn't mean anything good at all. Ellen wondered if it would be all right for her to suggest that Pek consider asking to change from the martial side of the Brotherhood to one of the Scribe orders instead. Not for long, though- Pek thrust out a clipboard. "In the meantime, I was told to deliver your new orders."
"Oh! Thank you-" She hesitated a bare moment before adding, "Initiate."
"At your service, ma'am," said Pek.
He was still standing there. Why was he still standing there? What did- oh. "Dismissed," Ellen said, and to her immense relief Pek nodded and left.
Okay. That was strange. The Initiates at Gunny's training ground had been one thing, but getting actual deference from somebody she knew (even if only a tiny bit)... Ellen hadn't really thought through the implications of having an actual rank before. She'd more or less just assumed that all it meant was that she'd be fighting the Enclave and the mutants alongside the other Knights and taking orders from the Paladins. What had happened with Pek... that was just weird. She sighed and turned her attention to the clipboard instead.
Five minutes later she was in the Citadel lab, saluting Paladin Tristan and a Scribe she'd never met before. "Nice work you did back there, 101," said Tristan as he returned the gesture. "I'm told we should be getting something extremely useful out of that data you retrieved. Unfortunately, we don't have time to sit around and wait for the analysis to finish."
The Scribe, a brown-haired, slender woman in red robes perhaps a size too large for her, gave Tristan a sour look. He ignored it. "Based on what I've seen of you so far," he continued, "there's an assignment I believe you're well suited for."
"I'm ready for more, sir," Ellen said. She'd been sitting around the Citadel waiting for far too long anyway. "What do you need?"
Tristan grunted. "With the setbacks we suffered at that satellite station, we find ourselves in a difficult position," he said. "All our available resources need to be positioned for the inevitable counter-attack from the Enclave. At the same time, the Order of the Sword believes they may have developed a tool that'll help our chances of victory- something to help compensate for Prime's loss. We can't afford to send more than one or two people on a recovery mission to make that happen, though."
Ellen blinked at that. Recovery mission? Of what? The image that briefly rose before her eyes was of herself and Fawkes trying to wrestle Liberty Prime's head onto a wagon and haul it back across the Wasteland.
"So I'm going to have you travel to the Olney Powerworks to secure some tech for us."
Wait. Olney? Where she got her armor? Where all the Deathclaws lived? And they were sending her alone? Okay, with Fawkes and Dogmeat, most likely, but still! "What kind of tech?" she said carefully, vaguely proud of the fact that her voice didn't squeak at the thought.
"Hopefully the ruins of the old power plant should still have at least one working Tesla coil, an experimental device from before the War," Tristan said. "Our Scribes need it to complete a little surprise they've been preparing for the Enclave. You and your companions need to get there, get the coil, and get back as safely and quickly as possible. Any questions?"
How do you expect me to not die? leapt to mind. What came out instead was, "Ah... I've been to Olney before, sir. It's a dangerous place. Can I... I don't know, requisition something to help me get in and out alive?"
"That'd be where Scribe Vallincourt here comes in," said Tristan, nodding to the woman in red. "She's been working on some of the Enclave tech we've recovered. Vallincourt?"
"Oh-" The woman straightened up sharply. "I can provide something. Well- maybe. I mean, possibly. I think so, but I'm not certain." Tristan eyed her, his expression cool and neutral. "I don't know how much this will actually help. I mean, I'm not quite sure how effective it might be, since it hasn't really been field tested..."
"Vallincourt," said Tristan, his tone a warning: I have one nerve left, and you are getting on it.
"Right! Yes. I think I've figured out a way to override the signals the Enclave is using to control their Deathclaws."
Their Deathclaws? Ellen almost said. Then she remembered the long silent walk through Raven Rock, and the room her guard had said was the Deathclaw pen area, and stayed silent.
"Here, take this." Vallincourt thrust a brown-and-silver box at Ellen. Several lights and gauges blinked up at her from its surface. "It's my main prototype, so please don't lose it."
"What is it, exactly?"
"It's a semi-standard transmitter, only I altered the frequency modulation and jacked up the output." Vallincourt beamed proudly. "Based on some experiments I ran here in the lab it should override the signals the Enclave uses to control Deathclaws and render any controlled animals obedient to you instead. Don't worry, it's always transmitting. You can't turn it off unless you destroy it- so please don't destroy it or lose it."
"Okay," Ellen said, and started looking for a belt pouch to stash it in.
"And so far I have no evidence of adverse effects of EM interference in humans," Vallincourt went on. "Animals, maybe, but not humans."
Ellen looked up sharply at that. "How do you mean? Is it going to hurt Dogmeat?"
"No, no, not unless you have him carrying it around in his mouth for long periods of time- so don't do that," Vallincourt said. "Anyway, it doesn't have a huge broadcast range, but it should be enough. There've been reports of an Enclave encampment southeast of Olney with a number of docile Deathclaws. I'd suggest testing it out there and turning the beasts against their masters instead of getting shot at yourself."
To be honest Ellen had hoped to avoid Enclave notice altogether as long as it was just her and Fawkes and Dogmeat, but she nodded anyway. "Thank you," she said. "I'll let you know."
"I hope the scrambler ends up being useful," Vallincourt said. "I'd hate to have spent all this time working on it and get no results... or bad results. That would be worse."
"Scribe Vallincourt? You're not by any chance from Canterbury Commons, are you?"
"No, not that I know of," said Vallincourt. "Why do you ask?"
"Just wondering." Ellen tucked the device away. "Thank you, Scribe Vallincourt, Paladin Tristan. I should go find Fawkes..."
"Dismissed," said Tristan. "Good luck and Godspeed, 101."