"Charley," Jake's crackling voice said through my Pip-Boy speaker, "you will not believe what we found!"

 

"Susie and I just go back from Boston," he continued, "and no, don't worry, we changed our of our vault suits. This was a completely unofficial tourist visit. But anyway, my friend The Ron..."

 

Nick groaned, "why am I not surprised he's involved?"

 

"...found me a lead on another comm hub. Get this, it was in the basement of Vault-Tec HQ, of all places. Now, I never did get the first comm hub running. And given the state of it, I'm not surprised. Even with all Susie's help, there was just too much broken. Now we were expecting to find a working comm hub, or at the very least some more ASAM goodies."

 

Cain's voice broke in, "that would have been good enough, but we hit the motherlode!"

 

"Hold on, hold on, I'm telling this story. So anyway, we got to Vault-Tec HQ and the whole place was crawling with ghouls. We had to fight our way down to the basement, and it was messy. Fortunately, Susie brought her powersuit - that helped a lot. So much so, I even forgive me for making me stick that plug in her rear end. That was nasty."

 

 

"From the way you whined about it the whole. Way. There, it was like you'd never seen the inside of a woman's ass before."

 

"Aaaanyway, back on topic, we made our way down to the basement warehouse, and at that point we were starting to worry it was a bust - just more ghouls down there. But Cain really pulled it out - literally in this case. She pulled out some rubber floor mats and underneath... yup, trap door to the real secret basement."

 

"Jesus, Evans, you're going to put her to sleep. Tell her what we found."

 

 

"Well, turns out that whole Vault-Tec/Robco partnership business? That was all a load of brahmin dung. Vault-Tec was trying to make a rival product, and we found the factory. We didn't just find a terminal with the codes to fully unlock every single schematic."

 

"Hold up, don't get too excited, Charley, we still need to work on that a little, but we got a copy of the data."

 

"Hey, I was telling her the good news. No, the terminal was just the first taste. We also got, drum roll, the fabricator specs to make ASAM sensors. That's right, we can now make more sensors at the Workshop. Can you imagine what we can do with an unlimited supply of sensors?"

 

 

"Just kidding, you don't have to imagine. We've already got some prototype plots building back in Concord. Next time you come back to town, it will knock your socks off, I guarantee it."

 

"Listen, Charley, this is a huge breakthrough. We're going to use the schematics we got to try and replicate the parts we need to fix the comm hub. If so, we'll use it to send a wireless update to all the ASAMs, including the ones you have at your forward base. You could have access to the new plots in a matter of days. Weeks at most."

 

"But it cuts both ways. We found out the ASAMs are also transmitting, trying to connect with the hub. I hope this won't be a problem, but you need to be aware that - in theory at least - someone could intercept these signals and map out where our ASAMs are deployed. So don't let your guard down. It's very possible that someone - those folks at Vault 81, at a minimum - is using these to keep tabs on what you're doing."

 

 

A mechanical voice came on the line then, intoning, "this has been a pre-recorded message. Transmission complete."

 

Nick looked decidedly unimpressed. "Now the question is, how much did Jake blab to The Ron, and who is The Ron blabbing that information back to?"

 

"That's a very good question," I admitted. "Hopefully we haven't given away the game in order to get the ASAMs unlocked. Still, I --"

 

In the distance, I heard a sudden shout, "you there! Hands up, on your knees!"

 

I rushed out of my makeshift office to find a man in raider garb kneeling at the perimeter, hands in the air. He spoke loudly but calmly, "I'm not here to fight. I've got a message for Charley Ellison from Red Tourette."

 

"I'm Ellison," I said as I approached the checkpoint, "what are you doing here."

 

 

"Not my place to say, lady. Just read the note. I'm going to get it out of my pocket now. Don't shoot."

 

"Red Tourette's a pretty well-known Raider," Nick said, "not the worst, but not the nicest either. This is unusual behavior, and unusual behavior usually means trouble when it comes to raiders."

 

"So I've observed," I said as I retrieved the note from the raider's hand. I observed that despite his submissive posture, the man didn't seem afraid. His hand didn't shake at all, and his eyes were scanning us one by one.

 

I took a moment to look at the offering, then I waved it at the raider. "Really? Red paint? Couldn't your boss just use a pen?"

 

"Just read it, for fuck's sake, I don't want to be kneeling here all day."

 

So I took in the missive. It was an appeal to Vault 111. Red Tourette wanted out of the raider game, and she offered to pledge her whole gang to me, if we'd rescue her sister from a rival named Tower Tom. I handed the note to Nick, and then to Dirk, who had joined us moment earlier. "What do you think?"

 

"Lots of details missing," Piper mused, "and at the end of the day, do you really want raiders on your payroll?"

 

"Not particularly," I admitted, "but if they really want out of the life, I imagine we can put them to work. You understand the deal if we help you, right? This won't be forgiveness for any of your members who did serious crimes. Torture, child killing, screwing with water purifiers or using poison. Cannibalism. Any of your people got mixed up in that shit, and they're going to have a date with a rope."

 

"Red knows," he said. "She knows how you roll. She knows you're looking for your son and that you're tearing up anyone who gets in your way."

 

"Well that's an interesting tidbit," Piper opined. "I wonder how that got out?"

 

"Wasn't from me," Nick drawled, "but I imagine I'm not the first person you told, either."

 

I shook my head. "No, there's plenty of ways it could have got in the rumor mill. Alright," I address the raider, "If we help you, and that's a big if, I need to know where this Tower Tom and his gang are holed up. Do you know? Not much I can do, otherwise."

 

"Tom operates out of the Beantown Brewery, across the river from Cambridge."

 

"Oh fuck me," I muttered, "that's right next to Oberland Station. If we raid them, Vault 81 will know for sure. Alright, you cool your heels for a while," I told the raider. "Piper, Dirk, Nick, let's talk."

 

We retreated to my cabin, and I asked the three of them frankly, "OK, talk to me, is there any reason I should even entertain this?" I waved the note for emphasis.

 

 

Nick was first, "Red Tourette's pretty vicious, but she mostly stuck to fighting other raiders. If there's one gang in the area that you could turn without it really stinking, it's probably her's."

 

Piper added, "if you believe the note, it sounds like she wants to give up without a fight, she just wants her sister back and she needs help."

 

Dirk was last, "Red Tourette's gang operates out of the Federal Emergency Stockpile south of here. The place has probably been mostly cleaned out of supplies over the years, but its a strong, defensible position. That real estate will give us an edge against the mercenaries... and the Rust Devils for that matter."

 

"None of you seem very opposed to this," I noted.

 

"Whether you kill them all or get them to give up, a raider gang out of the picture is still a raider gang out of the picture," Dirk said. "In different times I might be pickier, but we're in the process of starting a war with a strong enemy. I'll take every advantage we can get."

 

"If you're serious about punishing the really bad ones, I'm not too stuffed up about you 'rehabilitating' the rest. Like Dirk said, its still one less raider gang, no matter how you accomplish it," said Nick.

 

"I get where she's coming from with wanting to save her sister," Piper said. "And... call it a hunch, but I don't think they're going to double-cross you. This feels like desperation, like you're her only chance."

 

"Yeah," I nodded, "I got that impression too. But we can't just roll through Oberland Station guns blazing. That'll be the end of our détente with Vault 81. Even if took off our uniforms before we went in, they'd see it as a provocation. MacNamara was really clear about not wanting security operations on her turf."

 

"Maybe General Garvey could act as an intermediary?" Dirk suggested, "make it a Minutemen operation, or even rope in Vault 81 security?"

 

"Now that sounds like a good idea," Nick opined. "Didn't you just ask him to pay you a visit, anyway?"

 

I nodded. "Yeah, I imagine he'll be here tomorrow if he wasn't hung up. OK, any last minute objections to wiping out Tower Tom's gang?"

 

I didn't get any answers. "Then tomorrow I think it's time for Preston to have his summit with Vault 81. I'll talk it over with him when he arrives. Dirk, go tell that raider that we'll consider his request and that he can leave. I don't really want him snooping around the co-op all night."

 

We broke up then, and Piper and I got to bed in anticipating of Preston's arrival the following morning. It turned out that doing so was a wise decision, because Preston showed up just at the crack of dawn. I greeted him and invited him into my office to talk.

 

 

Over coffee, I filled him in on recent events. On Jake's little field trip to Boston, my discovery of the Breeders and my thoughts on how we should welcome them into our community while maintaining their privacy, and last but not least, the request from Red Tourette.

 

"Treating with raiders doesn't sit well with me," Preston said, "but regardless of how I feel about Red's gang, if we can get rid of Tower Tom, that'll be one less raider gang, and it might help convince Vault 81 that we aren't the big trouble they seem to think we are. What do you see my role in this as being?"

 

"I want to take you down to Vault 81 and meet with Gwen MacNamara. I want her to officially recognize the Minutemen and to either let your people take down Tower Tom, or make it a join operation between you and Vault 81 security."

 

"That might be a tough ask," Preston observed. "I don't think they trust you."

 

"Who? MacNamara? She definitely doesn't trust me. That's why it's critical you come. Indeed, I'll just be there to make introductions, then I'll let you handle the discussions with MacNamara. I shouldn't be in the room if we can help it."

 

Piper chimed in, "I wanted to do some follow-up interviews anyway. Maybe you and I can mingle while Preston works his magic."

 

"I don't know," Nick grumbled, "should we really split up like that?" 

 

"I have to echo that feeling," Preston said. "You're putting a lot of trust in me on this. What if I screw it up?"

 

"You won't, I believe in you," I said, and I thought I saw Preston's face brighten a little. 

 

"OK, let's kill this pot of coffee and start making ready to hit the road. I think Dirk's squad can hold down the fort while we're out."

 

Some time later, we were standing in Gwen MacNamara's office, making our introductions. 

 

"You must be General Garvey," she said, extending her hand to Preston. I wondered if this was the same false courtesy that he greeted me on my first visit, or if she was genuinely welcoming him. 

 

 

"Yes, ma'am," he said, "I'm pleased to make your acquaintance."

 

She didn't waste her time before testing him, "it's been a long time since there's been a General of the Minutemen. Not since Becker, as I recall. Self-appointed rank, I take it?"

 

"No, ma'am, in fact I was opposed to the idea. But Overseer Ellison felt that as a Colonel, it implied that I was subordinate to Vault 111."

 

"And interesting perspective," MacNamara said. I'm pretty sure she gave me a little nod of agreement, though maybe that was my imagination. "So if you aren't subordinate to Vault 111, who are you subordinate to?"

 

"To the people of the Commonwealth, ma'am, and to its duly elected civilian government, once it can be reconstituted."

 

 

"So you envision a return of the CPG?"

 

"Respectfully, ma'am, the CPG was a failure. It was too fragile to survive what should have been a predictable test - a strike against its leadership. I'm trusting in people like you and Ellison to do a better job the next time around. And that's a process that the Minutemen will safeguard, but will not play a decision-making role within."

 

"Optimistic," she said. "Do you really think that's possible in the current security environment?"

 

"Absolutely not. That's part of why the Minutemen are taking the fight to the mercenaries are Fort Hagen. But in a year, two years? Who's to say. If we can seize and keep the initiative,  then we can turn things around."

 

"I hope you're right," MacNamara said. "Let's discuss the specific terms of our relationship. Ellison, please don't take offense, but this is between me and the General. Why don't you enjoy the vault facilities while we talk."

 

I admit, I was a little put out, but I believed in Preston and I was willing to let him handle this. I descended from the Overseer's office down into the atrium, intent mainly on getting some lunch, when something caught my eye. Turning, I saw Piper just finishing zipping up a woman in her environmental suit.

 

"Wow," the woman said, "this is snugger than I imagined. And, very, um, transparent."

 

 

"But it's not transparent to rads, and that's the important thing," Piper pointed out. Then, noticing me approach, she turned to me.

 

"Oh, Charley! This is Katlin Paris, she's the vault's well... I guess she's the plumber."

 

I offered my hand to her, "nice to meet you, Katlin. What's got you all dressed up?"

 

"Oh, this?" she asked, blushing a little, "Piper's loaning it to me so I can get the water system fixed. It's all backed up and flooded with radioactive water, and my hazmat suit is in the shop, so she said I could use hers."

 

"Don't worry, Blue, I'm only loaning it."

 

I nodded, "sounds reasonable. Anything else we can lend a hand with, Katlin?"

 

She seemed to think on that while she secured her helmet in place. "Nothing in the plumbing department at least. For anything else, you'd have to ask the department heads, I'm not exactly in the loop."

 

 

"Fair enough," I said. "Good luck fixing the water system."

 

I let Katlin get down to her business, then followed Piper around for a while listening to her chat with the residents. I suspected this was the nucleus of another story for her, and I was content to just hang around and watch. The last weeks had been so hands-on, it was nice to be the fifth wheel for once. A few hours later, Preston emerged from MacNamara's office and flashed me a big smile.

 

"OK, we're in. The Minutemen officially have Vault 81's blessing to operate here."

 

"That's good news," I said. "What about the Tower Tom situation?"

 

"Ah, that's a little more complicated. The short version is that, A) Vault 81 doesn't have the people to raid Beantown Brewery, B) they don't want Vault 111 doing an operation so close to Oberland Station,"

 

"I figured that much," I agreed.

 

"Yeah, and the Minutemen are stretched too thing to do the op on our own. MacNamara suggested that Diamond City Security might back us up."

 

Piper laughed, "good luck with that one."

 

"That was my thought as well," Preston said, "so then MacNamara offered up a tidbit to me. She suggested that Deputy Director Mansfield has some kind of problem that, if we fixed, then 81 would look the other way while we hit Beantown Brewery."

 

"Interesting," I mused. "Sounds like we need to have a talk with Mansfield."

 

Cedric Mansfield was looking a little more mopey than usual when we entered his office. He'd parked himself in a dark corner and rose only slowly at our approach.

 

"Cedric," I said, "General Garvey tells me you need some assistance from Vault 111."

 

 

"Ellison," he said. "I hear you've taken it upon yourself to fix our water problems."

 

I chuckled, "rumor mill. It's your ace plumber who's on the job. My friend Piper just loaned her an environmental suit."

 

"Yesss," he said, "I've heard rumors about that too. Apparently she gave the whole atrium quite a show."

 

"You know, Cedric, I came here thinking you wanted my help, not that you were going to make me listen while you slut-shame your own people."

 

 

"Ah, Ellison, why does everything have to be so difficult with you?" he whined. "Fine, I do need your help. And it's... sensitive."

 

"Go on," I said.

 

"Now I want you to know that Vault 81 is completely committed to upholding the agreement we made with you about spheres of influence. One hundred percent."

 

"So you broke the agreement?"

 

 

"I assure you, it was entirely the work of a young and overly enthusiastic member of our staff, completely without the sanction of Vault 81 leadership."

 

I rolled my eyes. "Fine, tell me what you got yourself into."

 

"One of our low-level security officers was leading a routine patrol when she radioed in that she saw suspicious activity on the dam north of Forest Grove," he explained. "We haven't been able to contact her squad since then. I'm... I'm concerned that, without my approval, she took her squad over the river and ran into trouble. I want you to find them and bring them home."

 

"Listen, of course we'll help. This sounds like exactly the kind of thing that we should just work to smooth over rather than turn into a big problem. But I'd like some help from you in exchange."

 

"There's a raider gang holed up at Beantown Brewery," Preston explained.

 

 

"So I'm aware, trust me. They're no end of trouble for the settlers in Cumnock Woods," Cedric responded, "but we don't have the strength to clear them out."

 

"But I do," I said. I want to raid the site, neutralize its leader, and rescue hostages. It won't be under Vault 111 colors, but we also take the agreement seriously and we don't want to conduct a security operation without your approval."

 

Cedric frowned, "I see. Alright, you bring our people home, and we'll wash our hands of Beantown Brewery. You do whatever you want with the inhabitants."

 

With the agreement struck, we were getting ready to leave when Piper suddenly perked up. "Blue, we need to go get my hazmat suit."

 

"Shit," I muttered, "I almost forgot. I'm glad you remembered."

 

We tracked down Katlin, discovering her smoking in a bathroom.

 

 

"Ugh, that's nasty," I said, wrinkling my nose at the smell. "You better not have got smoke smell on Piper's suit."

 

Katlin shook her head, "nope, just raw sewage. Thank you, though, I really needed that suit. I just spent the last hour working down in the pipes... turns out a picnic table got sucked into the intake valve and jammed up good inside. It was a bitch to clear out, but now we've got flow to the water purifiers again. I left the suit on the sink over there," she gestured off to her left. 

 

Piper smiled, "glad we could help. I hope we can work together more in the future."

 

"Yeah," Katlin conceded, "you 111 folks aren't that bad. But if you'll excuse me, I need to get checked out by the doc. He's afraid that even with the suit I took too many rads."

 

Piper looked at me as Katlin departed, "I wonder if we should have given her a collar to help with the smoking?"

 

I chuckled. "The thought crossed my mind too, actually. But MacNamara wants to trade for the specs, so if she actually gets around to working out a trade deal with us she'll be able to get one soon enough."

 

There was still plenty of sunlight left in the day, so we decided to get started looking for the missing patrol immediately, rather than waiting till morning. Heading west, we made good time along I-90 until the dam came into view. Almost immediately, we saw signs of trouble; the dismembered, impaled body of a woman being the first.

 

 

"Looks like raiders," I said.

 

Nick considered the scene with a clinical eye, "well, we did speculate that the Rust Devils were using these dams to cross the Charles. This seems to confirm it."

 

"Maybe," I said, "but something's off."

 

"Yeaahhhh," Nick said slowly. "You're right. This place isn't looted. If the Rust Devils are in as bad shape as they say, why leave all this food and all these supplies?"

 

"Kellogg's crew, then?"

 

"If so, it just gives me one more reason to want him dead."

 

"OK," Preston said, "let's take it nice and slow. Watch out for traps."

 

Half way across the dam, I saw movement on the far side and gestured for everyone to get behind cover. There were two men on the opposite bank, obviously soldiers, and their gear looked familiar.

 

 

"Fuck me," Piper whispered, "are those Gunners?"

 

I started to draw a bead on the first one, "let's shoot first and ask questions later." Once I had my shot lined up, I put a rail spike into the closer man's side. He screamed, clawing at his ribs, as he fell, and the other one almost immediately started returning fire. It was mostly spray-and-pray, but he got the direction close enough that I had to shrink even further behind the pipe that shielded me to avoid his shots.

 

Unfortunately for him, or maybe fortunately, Preston was a better shot than me and rather than nailing him to the wall with a spike, the second man took a laser bolt in the chest. It knocked him back, stunned, and he threw up his hands, calling out, "I give up, don't shoot!"

 

I quickly closed the gap and kicked the stunned man's gun away, in the process putting my eyes on a detail I hadn't noticed before - he was practically standing on top of the body of a woman in a Vault 81 jumpsuit.

 

 

"Dammit," I muttered, "I think I found our missing patrol. OK, buster," I said, "you better start talking. What are you doing out here and what happened to this woman?"

 

"I'm an officer in the Gunners," he said, "there's a ransom for my safe return."

 

"Yeah, the only place you're returning to is Concord, for trial. Better start talking if you don't want to end up on the end of a rope."

 

I closed in, fishing out a shock collar, as the man's face contorted in rage. "I should have known it was you motherfuckers," he hissed. I was about to reach for him when I saw his hand dart down to his belt, reaching for a grenade. If he'd planned to go out in a blaze of glory, I aborted his plan by driving a spike through his heart.

 

Despite a through search of the area, the woman was the only member of the patrol we were able to find. I did, however, find some documents on the officer - orders that would be very interesting to Cedric Mansfield. I showed the papers to Preston, who became visibly upset as he took in the contents.

 

 

"Charley, this would be been Quincy all over again - but worse. If they poisoned the water tanks at Vault 81, they could just walk right in. And you and I both know what would follow for Diamond City if Vault 81 became a Gunner base."

 

"I think we need to get back to 81 immediately. Nick, do you mind carrying her? I think you've got the best physique for it."

 

"Oh, sure, have the synth carry the dead body," he groused.

 

"I really am sorry. If I had my powersuit, I'd do it."

 

"No need to apologize, Charley, I'm just ribbing you." He hefted up the corpse in a fireman's carry, "let's get back before those camouflaged chuckleheads try anything else."

 

Preston scowled, "Charley, I've got a bad feeling about the scouts we sent to Forest Grove," he said.

 

"Yeah, I was just thinking the same thing," I confirmed. "I'm starting to worry we're going to walk into a Gunner camp when we move to phase 2."

 

When we returned to Vault 81, Cedric met us at the door. The sight of the woman literally staggered him, and he howled, "Claudia! Claudia, what did you get yourself into?" This continued for a few minutes before, we evident great effort, he stalked back to his office. Nick handed off the body to one of the doctors who normally operated the radiation screening equipment while I followed Mansfield.

 

"I'm sorry," I said, "it was too late when we got there."

 

 

"You're serious, aren't you?" he asked, the grief still evident on his face.

 

"Why would I lie about it?"

 

"No, I mean you're serious, that you're sorry. Have I completely misjudged you, Ellison?"

 

"Are you going to be OK?"

 

 

"No. No, I'm not. But thank you for asking. Despite the circumstances, you did as much as you could. I'm grateful for your assistance. Do whatever you want with the Brewery. Burn it down, if it suits your fantasy. It's the least we can do for you."

 

"You want to talk about what's eating at you?" I offered.

 

"No. Now if you'll excuse me, I need to update the vault's records."

 

It was pretty obvious that Cedric wasn't in the mood for commiserating, and so I left him in peace. As we walked back through the atrium, Preston turned to me. "There are so many things bothering me right now," he said.

 

"You and me both," I agreed.

 

 

"What are the Gunners doing in Forest Grove," he started, "where's my patrol? Who staked out that woman on the bridge? What's Cedric not telling me about the patrol? What's MacNamara going to do with those documents?"

 

"The documents, I almost forgot. Did you...?"

 

"Yeah, I handed them over already. She turned white as a ghost. I have a feeling that Vault 81 is going to be a bit more open to cooperating in the future, at least I hope so."

 

"Speaking in cooperation, we've go the green light to raid the brewery. I want to do it tonight."

 

"I agree," said Preston, "no sense in waiting. I get the feeling that operational security isn't the greatest down here."

 

And raid the brewery we did. Tower Tom's gang didn't have any patrols or security out after dark, so we literally walked right into the place and from there... that's when the shooting started. Our goal was hostage rescue, so we moved fast and didn't waste time trying to take prisoners. When a raider gave up, they got a bullet in the head. At the same time, whenever we found hostages we freed them quickly and sent them back towards the entrance. We'd sort out which one was Lily Tourette once the site was secure.

 

 

Once the initial shock of our entry wore off, some of the raiders put up more of a fight, but by then the momentum was on our side and they never retook the initiative. It was a massacre, and completely one-sided. I was actually a little shocked that this gang had been able to operate here for so long when they were obviously incompetent. Though maybe that said more about Oberland Station than about the raiders.

 

 

Tower Tom himself was the last holdout, falling back on the classic tactic of using human shields to protect himself. Unfortunately for him, by that point there were a lot more of us than there were of him, and we were able to flank him and draw him out of his hiding place.

 

 

Soon, Tower Tom was sprawled dead on the floor, and all that was left for us was to find Lily Tourette. Unfortunately, that's where things got complicated. We interviewed the hostages and none of them knew Lily's whereabouts. That set us onto a more extensive search of the brewery, only ending when we found Tom's diary. He'd apparently been keeping Lily chained up on the brewery floor for the entertainment of his men; one night, she got loose and tried to escape, and she'd ended up dead at the end of the misadventure. Tom had been writing letters, allegedly from Lily, to Red Tourette to extort her gang for food, while she'd been dead the whole time.

 

We didn't leave completely empty-handed, at least; most of the hostages asked us to take them back to Vault 111 territory, and we found some useful supplies that we confiscated. Included withing those was a magazine that, when I flipped through it, turned out to contain a holo-disk with Workshop data. What the eye-catching cover photography had to do with fencing, I'm unsure, but the schematics were likely to be helpful in the future.

 

 

We arrived at the Federal Ration Stockpile around midnight, and I could see immediately that I'd have to do something about the exterior decor. Red Tourette might not be one of the bad ones, but if so, the cages of skulls and the spiked bodies surrounding her encampment certainly failed to give that impression. Still, no one shot at me as I approached, and soon I found myself being led to meet with their leader.

 

 

The stockpile bunker itself was in pretty good shape, with only a few sections showing signs of decay or collapse. More to the point, at least one of the warehouse blocks seemed to be not only intact, but still stocked, the magnetic locks on its doors apparently impenetrable to Red Tourette's gang. From time to time, I also saw signs of recent, gruesome violence, culminating in a veritable garden of impaled corpses that I passed on my way to Red's office.

 

 

"What the fuck happened here?" Piper asked as she stared at the bodies. "There's as many corpses as there are people here."

 

Beyond that macabre sight I was greeted with an almost cheerful looking "welcome" sign at the threshold to Red's office and, within, the raider boss herself.

 

"You must be Red Tourette," I said.

 

 

"And you must be Tits-out Charley. Where's my sister?"

 

"She's dead," I said matter-of-factly, "Tower Tom killed her months ago. He's been lying about her being alive to get food from you."

 

"That's impossible," she hissed. "Lily sent me letters, she was OK."

 

"Tower Tom wrote those letters," I corrected. "I'm sorry. But for what it's worth, him and his gang are dead, too."

 

"You did it?"

 

I nodded.

 

"Alright, that's something at least. Fuck, I've had enough of this shit. I want out. But you know that already."

 

"I do. Thing is, you put me in a difficult spot."

 

"What?"

 

"People told me that Red Tourette, as raiders go, wasn't too bad. That you mostly just duked it out with other raiders, and when you did pick on the locals you didn't take more than they could afford to part with. But I'm walking through your little... lair here, and it looks like there's some ugly business going on. If you're going to go legit, there has to be consequences for... this," I gestured back towards the impaling garden.

 

"Oh, you saw the swimming pool? Here's the thing, Charley. Those folks you saw staked out there? Those were the bad ones. When word got out I wanted to go legit, we had ourselves a little civil war. More than half the gang. To tell you the truth, it made me feel kind of shitty, my people turning on me like that. But it was the problem children behind it of course, the ones who wouldn't live by a code like I wanted them to. So they got a taste of their own medicine. Especially that bitch Tiffany. You saw her out front? I had the boys make the pole extra thick for her."

 

I nodded, remembering the impaled body in front of the gate. "So how do you see your life changing as part of my community?"

 

She shrugged, "I don't know. Guess a lot of us are going to end up being farmers, kind of sucks, but it is what it is. Maybe send out some folks to fight for you."

 

"No way any of you are joining the Minutemen," Garvey interjected.

 

"Pfft, like they'd want to join those pretty boys anyways, no I meant scrapping with the Rust Devils or the Hagen mercs. We know this terrain, and we know how to fight dirty. Use us as scouts and rangers, and we'll fuck shit up."

 

I plopped down onto Red's couch. "You need to understand, Red, that things are going to change here. They have to. Yes, I probably will use some of your people as scouts, guides, even skirmishers like you said. And yes, you're going to be doing a lot more farming. Even if you hadn't said so in your note I can see your people are starving. But you need to change, and I mean it. You can start by taking down all your... decorations."

 

 

"Even Tiffany?" she asked, sounding a little dejected. 

 

"Jesus, are you twelve years old? Yes, even Tiffany. If you really hate her that much, take her down last, but I want all those corpses taken down and buried. I'm going to leave behind some tools that will help you get started with farming, but you'll need to dig wells for them. That'll be hard work, and if you half-ass it you'll end up with radioactive crops. Can you handle that, or is that going to kick off another mutiny?"

 

"We can handle it. I think. And if not, I'm fucked anyway, right?"

 

"Right indeed," I agreed. "For the foreseeable future, I'm not going to send any settlers here. It'll just be you and your crew until I know I can trust you as part of our community. And if I catch word that you're harboring any real bad ones, cannibals, child killers, scum like that? I'll be back to personally see they're punished, and you will not lift a finger to help them. You are... you all are a bit of an experiment for me, to find out just how far wide I can open the door. If you fuck up, if you prove we can't trust you, then I'll send in the minutemen to clean this place out. Capiche?"

 

"Ca-what?" Red Tourette asked, dumbfounded.

 

"Do. You. Understand?"

 

"You're not gonna make this easy, are you?"

 

"Nope," I admitted. "Easy would be adding the rest of your crew to the, ah, swimming pool collection and then coming back in a few months to clean out the skeletons and bring in a new group of settlers. Hard, is reforming a raider gang in a way that doesn't destroy my credibility forever. For now, Red, you're in charge. I expect to see major progress next time I visit."

 

"Yeah, fine, you got a deal."

 

"What's your favorite color? Red?"

 

"How'd you guess?"

 

"Call it intuition. Next time I visit, I'll have some new clothes for you and your people. Who gets what is going to depend a lot on your progress, so again - don't fuck it up."

 

"Capiche," she said.