Iron and Steel, Chapter 1
A fanfic for Fallout 4 featuring Maxson and f!Sole. Picks up 4 months after Sole has opted to work with the Brotherhood of Steel and taken down The Institute.
Sole has returned to the Prydwen and during a sleepless night, has a curiously personal moment with Elder Maxson.
It had been 4 months. 4 months since the Institute fell. No, not fell, burned. 4 months since she had convinced Elder Maxson to spare Danse’s life. 4 months since her hopes for returning to the task of motherhood had been dashed. Since then, she’d wandered, meeting new allies, slaying enemies, and helping the settlers of the Commonwealth build a better life.
And now Sole found herself here, back on the Prydwen. She couldn’t help being drawn back here, they had the neatest toys. Toys that she could use to aid her friends and allies below. And the best historical records she’d found anywhere so far. She had so much to catch up on.
Sole laid in the bed in her quarters. Danse’s former quarters and former bed, she remembered. She tried to sleep, but found herself staring at the bare, utilitarian ceiling in the ambient light. Her mind kept racing over everything that had happened since she’d stepped out of that vault. Even after all this time, she was still struggling to understand and accept all the changes in the world. She’d come to see her life as split into two. A dichotomy. She came to understand and accept that who she was before was dead. That’s how she had to view it. The person from before the war, before the bombs, even from before Shawn was taken, was detached from her present self. She could look on her life before as a movie to watch and play. Sometimes those memories came unbidden. But they came less often, and had started to fade. She began to view them as a past life, and not really a part of her current life. Her mind was now trying to process the distance between the two. Trying to understand where the overlaps still existed. Trying to reconcile the past to the present.
With a sigh, Sole sat up in the bed. ‘This is useless’ She thought. ‘I’m going to drive myself crazy’. She listened to the sounds of the slumbering giant around her. The Prydwen was in night mode. Lights dimmed, generators humming quietly, and a few knocks and bangs here and there. Gone were the sound of footfalls and voices of the bustling vessel’s usual daytime din. It’s passengers slumbered peacefully now, or quietly went about their work. But above the ambient noise of the Prydwen, she heard a rumble. Even though she’d spent less than a year in this new world, her ears had become quickly accustomed to the sounds of danger around her. This was not one of those sounds. This was the sound of thunder. A radstorm.
Rising from her cot, Sole threw on some clothes and a pair of boots. After a moments hesitation, she strapped her favorite Laser Pistol to her thigh. She clanked open her quarters door and made for the ladder a few paces in front of her. She climbed the ladder and made her way to the observation deck. She paused before entering the room. Usually this was Elder Maxson’s domain. And just as you wouldn’t just go strolling into a bear den without making sure it’s all clear, likewise with Elder Maxson’s domain. The only light in the room was the gloomy glow of the Prydwen’s running lights, and intermittent flashes of green tinted light coming from the radstorm. She slowed her breathing to listen for any telltale signs of occupancy. Hearing none, she strode forward, heading straight to the railing against the windows at the far side of the room.
Sole put her hands on the rail and looked out at the storm. So similar, but so different from the time before. And then, unbidden, a memory flashed through her. So visceral and real she could feel it, smell it, and taste it. She and Nate, a stormy afternoon, a bottle of wine, warm hands, soft lips and nipping teeth, giggles and sighs. She shook her head and brought one hand up and scrubbed it over her face, dislodging the painful memory. She sighed, and leaned over with her elbows on the railing and stared morosely at the destructive beauty of the radstorm.
Arthur Maxson coveted his solitude. He didn’t get it often, and there were only so many places he could hide on this floating monstrosity. He had discovered early on that the dark observation deck at night was his best chance for some peace and quiet. He wouldn’t be found so easily by any over eager squire or scribe, but would be able to hear their voices and footsteps if they were looking for him. After all, his job wasn’t one he could really take a break from. If he was needed, he’d know, and he’d be there.
He took a sip of whiskey, enjoying the light burning on his lips. He held the liquid on his tongue, tasting the spicy amber of it before swallowing it down and felt the burn fading as it rolled down his throat. He paused and tilted his head to better hear the footsteps on the ladder. He held himself still as he heard them approach the observation deck and pause. Sitting to the side of the room, he couldn’t see who it was, but then, neither could they see him. That was soon resolved as the person moved forward into the room. Even in the dark he could tell it was his new Sentinel. She deliberately stepped to the far end of the room without first scanning it. She had not seen him sitting there. Good. It gave him the advantage of observing her.
She had appeared on the Prydwen yesterday and provided him with a debrief of her activities over the past 4 months. While she had done things differently than he would have liked, she got them done quickly and efficiently. She had a dozen settlements up and running. She led a citizen’s response team called The Minutemen to help those settlements prosper. She’d cleared out ghouls, muties, and synths. Tho he wasn’t too pleased with her choice to ally with a few of these deplorables, given the amount of good work she’d accomplished he could overlook that. For now. He couldn’t deny her strength, resiliency, and leadership skills made her formidably competent. He had yet to see another person who gave him this much hope for the future of the Commonwealth.
He watched as she scrubbed at her face with her hand, gave a deep sigh and leaned forward, elbows on the rail. ‘Hard time sleeping Sentinel?’ he rumbled softly in her direction. In the dark, he allowed himself a smug half smile as he watched her straighten with a start and whirl to face his direction. To her credit, he saw her hand stretch to her holstered weapon before realizing she wasn’t in danger. Good, she had the defensive reflexes of a good warrior. Although her situational awareness was lacking. An exemplary warrior would have known he was there the moment they stepped foot in the room.
He watched as she registered who had spoken. “My apologies Elder. I didn’t realize you were here.” she said as she pushed away from the railing and made to move towards the door.
“No need to rush out on my account Sentinel.” he replied, rising from his seat. She paused as he poured whiskey into another glass from the table near the couch. Turning and walking towards her, he offered her the glass. “Tends to help you sleep a bit easier” he said.
Sole accepted the glass with a nod, “Thank you Elder. Turns out 200 years of forced cryogenic hibernation messes with a person’s metabolism and sleep patterns. It seems my brain has decided it doesn’t want to sleep a whole lot lately”.
“That’s understandable, Sentinel. How are you adapting to the changes?” he asked her as he mimicked her earlier pose, leaning his elbows on the rail and gazing out at the radstorm, glass of whiskey in hand.
She briefly hesitated, took a drink from her glass and then followed suit. She paused for a moment before answering. She had nothing to lose by being honest, and she respected and trusted the Elder. “it’s...odd. The big things I get and have adapted to. Things like no infrastructure for electricity and water, no cars, no grocery stores and shopping malls or movie theaters. But it’s the little things that keep popping up and reminding me that it’ll take more than 10 months to truly accept all this. Little things that I realize now I took for granted. This storm, for example. it’s so similar to a thunderstorm from before. The concept is the same, but there are subtle differences. The thunderstorms I remember were all blues and grays and sometimes purples, not this green and yellow. You could be out in the storm without worrying about how sick you were going to get from radiation. Storms had so many different moods. They could be gentle and warm, like a comfortable blanket. Or they could be hard and loud. If it was gentle and warm, I’d often go outside barefoot to feel the rain on my skin and splash in puddles.” She smiled. “Even as an adult I still did it. It was one of those things that made you happy to be alive.”
Maxson watched Sole out of the corner of his eye as she spoke. He saw her wistfulness and her sadness as she stared out the window. He could tell she was struggling. This wouldn’t do. He needed his Sentinel to be in top shape and on point. Maybe talking about it would help her get it out of her system easier. ‘You know’, he said as she quieted, ‘I don’t think we realized that your value lies outside of the field as well. You have a wealth of Pre-War knowledge we have yet to take advantage of. Starting tomorrow you will work with Proctor Quinlan on his research. Review some of the work he’s done and fill in gaps where you can. We may be able to increase the pace of our progress with your knowledge.”
Sole pursed her lips and said “I hadn’t thought of that, Elder. I’ll talk to Quinlan in the morning. Will I still be able to go into the field? I would like to keep working with the Minutemen and the Settlements.”
Maxson straightened and said ‘Of course. I promoted you to Sentinel because I trust your judgement. I am sure you will balance your duties appropriately to ensure you are meeting all expectations.” He turned to leave the room, remembering the briefings on his desk that needed his attention. “Good night Sentinel” he tossed over his shoulder as he left the room.
Sole stayed where she was, thinking over this new task and sipping on the whiskey. She was anxious. This could bring up a lot of painful memories for her. But then again, it’d be an outlet to resolve this duality within her. Maybe, like a wound, getting the infection out would help it heal. it was worth a try.
Sole mused on her interaction with the Elder. It was certainly curious. She knew him to be hard, demanding, and powerful. She didn’t agree with all his views, but she respected the hell out of him for his strength and leadership. She wasn’t afraid of him, as it seemed most everyone else in the Brotherhood was. After all, she’d faced a lot worse than talking with such a domineering man. And, she IS more than 200 years older than him. Their interactions until now had been professional and respectful. But this seemed a bit more personal somehow.
She was giving herself a headache with all this thinking and decided he must have had enough whiskey to make him a bit more relaxed. There was nothing more to it than that, and she fully expected their next interaction to be status quo.
Sole glanced at her empty glass and stood. Well, the Elder got that one right, she was now feeling the pull of sleep. She walked out of the room, setting her glass down as she left and reached for the ladder rungs. She was half asleep as she reached the door to her quarters and fully asleep before her head hit the pillow. Her dreams were full of gentle rain, green grass, deep thundery rumbles, and strangely, a certain pair of intense blue eyes.
In his own quarters, Maxson finished reviewing his briefs and scrubbed a hand over his face. He downed his last sip of whiskey and stood. He moved toward the bed, removing his coat and flight suit as he went and lay down. In the brief time between awake and asleep, a vision of a wistful face with a sad smile drifted into his thoughts.
