4. The Shrike
Paladin Danse stood at the monitor in the Cambridge Police Station, trying to catch up on the mission reports from the past week. Ever since she’d arrived at the station, Myra Larimer had been keeping him quite busy. The two of them had managed to check off quite a few items on the Recon Squad to-do list, from collecting pieces of pre-war technology for Scribe Haylen to clearing out some of the more dangerous areas around Cambridge.
As Danse tried to discuss why he’d granted Larimer the rank of Initiate, he had to admit that he was struggling to express his impressions of the young woman. There was something deeply worrying about her behavior, but he wasn’t quite sure what it was that bothered him so much. It wasn’t because she couldn’t follow orders, which was normally the issue with the civilians he’d had to utilize in the past. It wasn’t even her surly tone, which was unpleasant but no worse than anything he’d dealt with before.
No, it was her complete lack of any self-preservation instinct that troubled him the most. Larimer didn’t seem like she was trying to die, not exactly. It was more that she had a nasty habit of running in first and analyzing the situation second.
He’d learned this when they’d cleared out the old Arc-Jet Systems facility, their first mission together after they’d survived the attack on the police station. Scribe Haylen had sent them to find a deep-range transmitter that would allow Recon Squad Gladius to boost their distress signal enough to hopefully reach the rest of the Brotherhood’s forces. It was a simple retrieval mission, easy enough for two soldiers to handle. Or it would have been, had the Institute not gotten there first.
The place had been crawling with synths. Fortunately, they seemed to be a salvage team comprised of the more obviously mechanical generation 1s and 2s. Danse wasn’t looking forward to his next encounter with the human-like generation 3s. There was something so disturbing about those abominations, the Institute’s sick crime against the sanctity of human life. Fighting them set him on edge in a way he rarely felt on the battlefield.
Danse and Larimer had cleared the first few floors with relative ease, even if her pistol was not nearly as effective against the synths as it had been against the horde of feral ghouls the day before. She proved herself to be a decent shot, though she seemed to waste a lot of ammo filling her enemies with holes rather than doing the same amount of damage with a few precision shots as Danse had been trained. However, she more than made up for her wastefulness by picking the locks to storage rooms and filling her pack with all the ammo she could find. He had been amazed by how much she was able to acquire with the use of just a few bobby pins.
This was why Danse sometimes kept company with mercenaries, even though he found their practices distasteful. There were just some things he didn’t have the skillset to handle on his own, and lockpicking was one of them. He’d never had the aptitude for it, even as a street urchin.
When they had finally reached the bottom of the facility, they were stopped by a power outage in the main elevator, so he had sent Larimer to reroute power in order to continue their progression. That was where the trouble began, and where Danse first realized how foolhardy his new ally could really be.
As Larimer had powered up the generator, Danse’s position had been overrun by synths, far more than they had previously encountered. She’d dashed back to help him without a moment’s thought, even though the number of hostiles was completely absurd for her to try to handle.
Danse had seen the trap coming, which was why he’d sent her ahead. Synths always used such insidious tactics, and he’d wanted to protect her. After all, she wasn’t wearing any armor, just a worn flannel shirt and that stupid hat that couldn’t even keep rain off her.
He’d expected her to lock the blast doors and wait it out, or hopefully cycle the jet engine perched ominously above the room, blasting everything inside with a massive inferno. He wasn’t thrilled about the idea of being cooked alive, but he knew his suit would take the brunt of the damage in that case. And, at least then, she would be safe from all the laser fire. It wouldn’t be the first time he’d put himself in harm’s way to protect someone weaker than himself. Knowing the world he lived in, it would hardly be the last.
Of course, Larimer never considered the tactically wise choices she had at her disposal, choosing instead to take down a horde of gen 2s with her tiny pistol and sheer bravado alone. Yes, they had both survived, and they retrieved Haylen’s transmitter. That was hardly the point. It was sloppy, unnecessarily dangerous, and completely counter to the spirit of the order he had given her.
Danse had given her his favorite laser rifle after that mission, less as a reward and more as a safeguarding gift. If she wasn’t willing to use good tactics, then she’d at least carry a decent gun. Thankfully, she seemed to adore Righteous Authority, and never used anything else so long as she had ammo for it. Because of this, their next salvage operation had gone considerably more smoothly, though Larimer still managed to take a bullet to the right shoulder as she charged a nest of raiders. After that incident, he’d finally been able to talk her into wearing a few pieces of leather armor.
He wasn’t sure what possessed him to offer her a place in the Brotherhood of Steel, but he had to admit that, in spite of her impulsivity and sloppiness, he was damn glad to have her in his squad. While there was plenty in her personality that bothered him, there was something beneath all the foolhardiness and sarcasm that resonated with him on a deep level. There was a spark in her, a fiery passion that he knew would make her an excellent soldier someday, as long as it was properly disciplined.
Danse sighed, finishing his reports, then powering down the monitor to conserve energy. The generators Recon Squad Gladius had rigged wouldn’t last forever, and they needed all the power they could get for their distress signal to reach headquarters in time.
He’d come no closer to understanding Larimer’s impulsive behavior. In all other respects, she seemed quite competent. So why was she so determined to throw caution to the wind?
Danse got the chance to ask her when they were camped out on the roof of the Police Station on watch later that night. He’d been reluctant to post the two of them together, preferring to have each of his men take their own watch. After all, more watches meant that everyone got more rest, and with so few of his squad left, Danse was more concerned about his soldiers’ wellbeing than ever.
In spite of this, Scribe Haylen had suggested that he spend more time with the new recruit. Not only would having watch together provide them an opportunity to talk, but it would keep Initiate Larimer and Knight Rhys separated before they murdered each other through dirty looks alone, which every day seemed like a greater possibility. So, against his better judgement, he agreed.
He suspected that Haylen just wanted an excuse to spend more time alone with the disgruntled knight, but he’d never press her on the issue. Danse had seen how Haylen looked at Rhys when she thought no one was watching. It would have bothered him if there had been any indication that Rhys was interested in her. Although the Brotherhood’s fraternization policy wasn’t as strict as its pre-war counterparts had been, it was still incredibly dangerous for people in the same unit to become romantically entangled. However, there were worse things than unrequited longing in this world, so Danse tried to pretend he didn’t know about Haylen’s interest in Rhys. As long as no one was breaking any rules and no one was neglecting their duties, he could care less what his soldiers spent their limited free time doing.
Regardless of Haylen’s motives, he was grateful that she’d convinced him to spend some time alone with Larimer. The Initiate needed to change her ways, and he had a feeling that an official reprimand was not going to get the results he wanted. Perhaps a friendly chat, as much as he dreaded struggling through one, was the way to go.
“Initiate,” he began, “I’d like to ask you something, if you don’t mind.”
She stared up at him with suspicion in her brilliant green eyes, but she took a few steps closer to him on the rooftop. “What is it, Danse?” she asked.
He ignored her casual drop of his rank. He had bigger issues to deal with. Now, he just needed to broach the subject gently, ease her into a casual conversation...
“Why do you always charge in headlong when you are entering a combat situation?” he blurted. “I’ve tried so hard to teach you how to use your surroundings, how to win a battle in your head before you even begin fighting. But you seem to disregard everything I say.”
She bit her lower lip, her eyes dropping to the courtyard in front of her. “I’m sorry, Paladin,” she replied softly after a long moment. “I really don’t mean to cause you trouble. I just can’t help myself when something awful is happening and I know I can do something about it.”
She was already putting up walls. Danse had to fix this, and soon, or the whole mission was a bust. He thought for a moment, trying to find the right words to say what he needed to say. “If you know it’s a problem,” he asked as gently as he could manage, “why don’t you try to fix it?”
Larimer bit her lower lip anxiously as her hand traced the markings on his…no, her laser rifle, the name he’d carved on its stock when he’d built it. How many times had he used the same gesture to ease his mind and calm his thoughts before battle? Was that how she saw this exchange? “Why do you care, anyway?” she snipped. “I get the job done.”
“That doesn’t matter if you get yourself killed!” he exclaimed. “How can you help anyone if you’re dead? You take too many risks.”
“What I do with my stupid, fucked up life is my business, Danse.”
“Yes, but you agreed to serve under my command. That means it’s my business as well. And I am not about to watch one of my soldiers die just because she refuses to take basic precautions.”
“I’m wearing this stupid leather armor, aren’t I?”
“Larimer,” he replied, his eyes meeting hers, “I’m not trying to reprimand you. I just want to help you. If something’s wrong, I want you to be able to talk to me about it. It’s part of my job as your commanding officer to be there when you need me.”
Larimer laughed bitterly. “Right, because you can totally help me with what’s wrong. Sorry, Paladin, but I think my issues are above your paygrade.”
“Try me,” Danse retorted. “I promise not to judge.”
“I’m like this because…because I don’t know how to do it by myself, ok? As long as I can remember, I’ve always had someone with a cooler head nearby to keep me grounded. My family, Nate...my husband...well, Nate was the best impulse decision I ever made, and he kept me from making a lot of other ones. And now they’re all gone, and I’ve got no one watching my back, and I can’t…I can’t...”
She trailed off, her voice shaking. Obviously, the trauma of waking up 200 years in the future had done quite a number on the Initiate. Danse couldn’t begin to imagine what she had gone through, waking up to find her entire world gone. It was hard enough losing his best friend, his mentor, members of his squad. How would he cope if everything he knew was suddenly stripped away from him?
“You’re wrong,” he managed, looking anywhere but at her. Her gaze, once hard and defiant, was too intense, too vulnerable after her confession. If he returned it, he might see more than he wanted to. He couldn’t afford to get sentimental.
“What am I wrong about?” she muttered dejectedly.
“That you’ve got no one watching your back. I’m here, aren’t I?”
“But you don’t even like me!”
He stared at her in shock, his nervousness about meeting her gaze all but forgotten at the absurdity of her statement. Was that really her concern, whether or not he liked her? How ridiculous. “That’s…”
Larimer snorted in derision. “Don’t. I know I drive you nuts, Danse, I can see it on your face, even now.”
He sighed, shaking his head as he tried to finish his thought. “Listen to me,” he barked in a commanding voice. “Whether or not I like you is irrelevant. I don’t have to like you to fight by your side, Initiate. You’re one of my soldiers now, and that means that I will gladly do all I can to train you into the strong, disciplined warrior I know you can be. But I can’t do that if you refuse to trust me.”
They stared at each other for a long moment, her brilliant emerald eyes fixed on his deep brown ones. For what felt like an eternity, neither of them spoke, each of them analyzing the other. Danse could feel the pit of his stomach twist as he felt her gaze bore to the heart of him, plumbing depths he tried to keep locked down. It was invasive, unsettling, like everything he was being laid bare. There was only one other person in his life who had that kind of effect on him, and even Maxson’s intense glare seemed easier to endure than Larimer’s gentle, probing gaze in that moment.
Danse was not the sort of man to easily surrender, however. He took the Brotherhood motto, “Ad Victoriam,” to heart. He would always press on to victory, and this contest of wills was no exception. He returned her look pointedly, studying her eyes and the secrets that he knew must lie beyond them. He could see the pain and heartache in her eyes, scars of loss that he knew must be echoed in his own. There was a quiet, defiant rage that burned just beyond, that spark of will he’d hoped to find there.
He knew from personal experience that pain and anger, if trained properly, could be the fuel for true and genuine strength. The secret was ensuring that the darker sides of these emotions were properly tamed. If one failed to control their heartache, their need to destroy, it could very easily tear them apart. A certain defiant strength of will was necessary to prevent this, and from his interactions with Larimer, Danse believed that she might possess that trait.
Everything he saw reaffirmed his belief that Larimer could be a great soldier. Possibly even one of the best, if he could just figure out how to get through to her, to convince her to learn, to adapt to the Brotherhood way.
Larimer was the first to look away, a faint blush rising on her pale, freckled cheeks as she bit her lower lip anxiously. “How about this?” she asked finally. “I’ll try to be less of a pain in your ass if you agree to cut me just the tiniest bit of slack every once in a while, ok? I may have married a soldier, but I sure as hell am not one.”
“Yet.”
“Yet,” she agreed. “Well, Paladin?”
He thought for a moment before replying. “Very well. But I hope you’ll at least try to refrain from getting us both killed. And stick by me. You shouldn’t run off on your own all the time. That’s how good soldiers become dead soldiers.”
“Is that why you didn’t want to leave Rhys and Haylen alone when I asked you to come to Diamond City with me yesterday?” she asked.
He nodded slightly, and she smiled back at him, her eyes suddenly warm.
“I understand,” she continued. “Perhaps, if you don’t mind, I could leave tomorrow, head on to Diamond City by myself.”
Danse sighed. What had he just said? Did she have any idea how dangerous it was to be out on her own like that? He had to remind himself that she’d been alone when he met her just over a week prior, had been on her own for who knew how long. Perhaps, just this once, he could let her bend the rules. “I’d prefer it if you’d stay here with the rest of the team,” he replied, “but if you must, I won’t stop you.”
“Thank you, sir.”
Perhaps Initiate Larimer was willing to adapt after all. If he could reason with her, he could train her, could help her reach that potential he believed she possessed. And he had just the thing to start with.
“Initiate, if you don’t mind, I need to go below for a moment. I’ll return promptly.”
“Already eager to get away from me, huh, Danse?” she replied with an impish grin, the vulnerability she’d allowed him to see already concealed again.
He sighed heavily, hoping his eyes conveyed his displeasure at her tone. “Just...Just don’t blow up anything before I get back,” he muttered impatiently. “Is that clear?”
“If God didn’t want me to blow things up,” she chirped playfully, digging around in her pack, “why did he give me so many grenades?”
He didn’t dignify her question, instead turning on his heels and walking steadily down the narrow stairs of the police station to his temporary quarters. If she wanted to get a rise out of him, she was going to have to try much harder than that.
Danse knelt by his footlocker, extracting a worn chessboard and a few handfuls of bullets in different calibers. He missed his chess set, he reflected as he counted out the appropriate numbers of each caliber. Hell, he missed his quarters. As hard as it was for him to sleep in general, it was so much harder to rest out in the Commonwealth without the noise from the engines humming beyond the walls like a mechanical lullaby. But most of all, he missed having someone he could confide in.
He wondered how Arthur was getting on without him. His friend had grown into a fine leader, strong and confident, but the quiet squire he’d first met when he joined the Brotherhood still peered nervously out of those steely eyes when he was in private. Danse had spent almost a decade by his side, doing his best to support the young man who bore the weight of such a tremendous legacy on his shoulders.
Before Danse had been assigned to scout the Commonwealth, they had rarely spent more than a month away from each other. Now, it had been the better part of half a year. He wondered if Arthur missed him as much as he missed the young Elder.
Not that it would matter much either way. Either the bulk of the Brotherhood’s forces would arrive soon and he’d be reunited with his friend, or Recon Squad Gladius would be wiped out before that happened. Sentimentality would only lead to the increased likelihood of the latter option. Danse needed to think about the task before him, and that was all.
He looked down at his collection of bullets and shells and nodded to himself, pleased. It wasn’t perfect, but it would do. If Larimer refused to learn tactics the traditional way, perhaps he could trick her into learning them. Besides, he was itching for a match.
A slight smile spread across his rugged face as he closed his footlocker. Larimer didn’t know who she was dealing with. One way or another, she’d become the soldier she was born to be.
When Danse returned to the rooftop, Larimer was sitting on the edge of the concrete roof, staring out across the courtyard of the police station. Her eyes scanned a distance beyond the farthest ruined skyscrapers, as though watching for some sign to pierce the starry sky.
Danse wasn’t particularly stealthy in his power armor, one of the few disadvantages to the suit, in his opinion. Yet Larimer hardly seemed to notice as he sat down beside her, heaving himself down on the roof’s edge with a clang and a sigh.
She didn’t acknowledge him for so long that he’d honestly thought she’d fallen asleep with her eyes open. No matter. His new Initiate was still not used to their sleep cycles, and, from what Haylen had told him, was a loud and restless sleeper when she did attempt to bunk down. She would adjust to their watch cycle in time. They all did.
The night terrors would be a more difficult matter to resolve, but it wasn’t as if he didn’t have personal experience with that problem. There was a reason he frequently took the more difficult watches at night, and it wasn’t just to be kind to his fellow soldiers. If he wasn’t going to be able to sleep anyway, he might as well let someone rest who would actually benefit from it.
As Larimer’s eyes continued gazing beyond the horizon, Danse took the opportunity to study her face in closer detail. When they had first met, many of her features had been obscured in blood spatter and ash, and he wasn’t exactly the kind of man who could be caught staring at someone under his command, even if it was merely fueled by curiosity.
Larimer’s hard, fierce eyes that he knew so well by now were a hard juxtaposition to her soft features, which seemed to glow and shift in the firelight as shadows danced across them. She had high cheekbones, obscured by fleshy cheeks that gave her an almost impish look in the half-light, a scattering of freckles encircling her thin but noble nose.
She reminded him of a shrike, one of the birds of prey whose pictures adorned that old field guide Arthur had once let him borrow, a present from the West Coast Elders. He’d always found the species fascinating, if deceptive.
The shrike was a simple-looking bird, songbird-like in its build and mannerisms, with only its hooked beak and tiny talons betraying its true, predatory nature. It would use its mundane appearance to lure weaker birds, lizards, and rodents into underestimating it, seeing it as no threat to them. But it was a vicious hunter, and was known for impaling its victims on thorns to eat later.
He supposed that quiet viciousness he saw in her was what made him recruit her in the first place. Yes, she was a vault dweller, and before that, a housewife. Hardly the most dangerous fighter in the Commonwealth. But underneath, he knew there was a fierce warrior just waiting to be unleashed. Larimer’s enemies would underestimate her at every turn, and she would utterly destroy them. All she needed was the discipline and training to use her gifts, and Danse was more than willing to teach her.
Of course, first he had to keep her alive.
“Like what you see, Danse?” Larimer mused, her intelligent eyes flitting over to meet his.
He felt a slight heat kiss his ears as he looked away from her quickly. How long had he been staring?
“I didn’t want to disturb your reflections, Initiate. I apologise.”
“That’s ok. I wasn’t thinking about anything important anyway. Just trying to remember how mint chocolate chip ice cream tastes.”
One of those pre-war treats. He’d heard of it. “I’d assume it tastes like mint,” he mused. “And chocolate, if I’m not mistaken.”
She chuckled slightly at his observation. “You’re a real comedian, you know that, Danse?”
“I don’t know what you’re talking about.”
Her gaze turned to the object in his hands, and her eyes widened in disbelief. “Seriously?” she asked. “Is that a chess set?”
He nodded. “It is. Do you play?”
“Checkers was always more my game of choice,” she replied, grinning. “Similar concept, way less involved rules. But yes, I’ve played before.”
“Well, then, you’re at least familiar with the basics,” he said simply.
“I was, like 200 years ago. It’s safe to say I might need a refresher.”
He set the board down between them, placing the bullets he’d gathered on either side of the square plank of faded wood. “We obviously have to make due with the materials we have, so you can use this game to learn your bullet calibers as well. Now, we’ll use these shotgun shells as our kings,” he added, placing them in their appropriate squares.
“I know what a shotgun shell is, Danse.”
He pointedly ignored her, continuing to set up the board. “We’ll use .50 calibers for the queens, .308s for the bishops, .45s for the knights, .44s for the rooks, and your beloved 10mm rounds as pawns.”
“But they’re all the same color,” she pointed out. “How will we tell whose pieces are whose?”
Danse extracted a small pot of orange paint and a fine brush from his pack. He didn’t want to waste the paint on something trivial, since he’d only been able to find a few pots of the stuff since arriving in the Commonwealth, but Larimer was right. Once they started playing, it would be impossible to tell the pieces from each other. At least the paint was thin, and wouldn’t affect the ammunition too much if they had to use it later.
“I use this to touch up the paint on my armor,” he told her, popping the plastic bottle open. “It dries pretty quickly, so if we apply it to one set of pieces, the first ones should be dry by the time we’ve finished.”
Larimer took the paint from him, a faint and mysterious smile on her face. He wondered what was so interesting about a little container of paint. “I know this brand,” she said, smirking at him. “Danse, is this hobby paint?”
His eyes narrowed in confusion. “I don’t know what that is. Something from before the War?”
She smirked. “Oh, Danse, if you only knew. Nate, my husband, had tons of this stuff, in all different colors. Honestly, I’m amazed it hasn’t dried out by now.”
Danse wanted to know more about this “hobby paint,” but he decided not to pursue this line of questioning for the time being. Right now, he had one thing on his mind, and that was getting the board ready so they could play. True to his word, the bullets on his side of the board were soon marked and dry enough to touch. “Now, you’re black, which means I’ll go first,” he mused, moving one of his pawns towards her side of the board.
She retaliated almost immediately with a pawn of her own, and the match began.
It wasn’t the worst chess match he’d ever played. That dubious honor belonged to Aspirant Reinhardt a few years back, who’d managed to lose the game by default when he knocked his own king through a crack in the floorboards, losing it forever. It had taken Danse almost three months to replace that piece, and he was still angry about it. It wasn’t the only reason why he’d kept advising Maxson not to promote the young man, but it certainly had contributed to his negative assessment of the Aspirant’s abilities.
It was an admittedly low bar, and Initiate Larimer managed to ease just above it. As she was in real combat, her movements were sloppy, impulsive, and imprecise. She sacrificed pieces unnecessarily, giving him the advantage so often that he would have found it insulting if there was any indication that her moves were deliberate. Within the span of fifteen minutes, most of that time eaten up by him planning his moves, it was all over.
“Checkmate,” he said blankly, trying and failing to hide his disappointment.
“I swear, Danse, I’m going to win next time,” Larimer exclaimed in frustration. It was obvious that she didn’t like to lose.
“Are you certain about that?” he asked bluntly. “If your skills this match are anything to go by, I think it’s safe to say that you have your work cut out for you.”
“Absolutely,” she shot back. “If not next time, I’ll beat you eventually. And when I do, I’m going to make you regret not believing in me.”
He sighed, carefully collecting the ammunition from the board. “If that’s what it takes to motivate you to actually try, fine.”
“Then let’s bet on it. We’ll play as many matches as you want for, say, the next year. If I don’t manage to win any of them, I promise to never question you again.”
“And if you win a match?”
“Then you’re going to have to do anything I tell you to for a whole day.”
“For winning a single match in a year?” Danse retorted. “That’s unacceptable.”
“Fine. Then I’ll just make you take off your power armor.”
He stared at her in confusion. What was this woman’s problem? Why on earth would she consider that a reward? “Very well,” he sighed. “But I will raise the stakes on my end to compensate. For every match you lose, you will have to cook one meal for our squad.”
“Enjoyed tonight’s dinner, did you?” she asked, smirking at him.
He had, but that was hardly the point. “Just utilizing your skills to our advantage, soldier. It is my job as the commanding officer of this unit to use every strength of every soldier to the benefit of the others. As you yourself said, you were a housewife, which makes you the best cook in our unit by far.”
“Don’t let Haylen hear you say that.”
“Actually, Rhys was the one who made most of our meals before you arrived. I think we’re all grateful to have you, if only for a reprieve from Cram Surprise.”
“What was the surprise, exactly?” Larimer asked.
He smiled slightly. “More Cram.”
“Oh, that’s unfortunate,” she chuckled. Larimer stuck out her hand for him to shake.
“Okay, you’re on, Paladin. Hope you’ve got something nice on under that hulking metal suit.”
He returned her handshake firmly. “As if you will ever see it, Initiate. Now I’d better take this board back downstairs.”
She nodded. “Do you need help?”
“Negative. One of us needs to remain on watch. I’ll be back in a moment.” The one problem with sitting in power armor was getting back up, but their spot on the edge of the roof made it surprisingly easy. Danse gathered the board and ammunition before pushing himself off of the ledge, landing on the courtyard below with a bang that he was sure would startle Rhys and Haylen. No matter. He could just tell them that he’d been testing the shocks in his leg armor for wear again. They’d never question it.
They spent the rest of their watch in relative silence, scanning the area for hostiles and listening for suspicious noises in the night. However, the air seemed lighter, somehow, than it had been, as if a storm that had been bearing down on them had changed direction, the pressure fading like mist in the morning light.
::::
The next morning, Danse put the finishing touches on his report on Larimer. After their discussion the night before, he realized, he needed to add something.
...In conclusion, I believe that Initiate Larimer will be an excellent addition to the Brotherhood of Steel, and I would like to formally request that I be allowed to oversee her sponsorship. With how well Larimer and I have been working together, I believe that I would be the ideal candidate.
Outstanding. He could submit his reports when the Prydwen arrived, and then it was all up to Elder Maxson. He hoped that his old friend would honor his request. After all, Danse had rarely asked him for anything before.
After he shut down the monitor once more, Danse paced the area behind the reception desk, his mind racing. He couldn’t believe he’d agreed to let Larimer go off on her own. He was her commanding officer now. He could have easily ordered her to stay put. So why had he allowed her to leave so easily?
“She’ll be fine, Top. She got here alive, after all,” muttered Knight Rhys, his eyes narrowing as Initiate Larimer appeared behind him.
“Aww, is Danse worried about me?” she asked, grinning. “That’s kind of sweet.”
“That’s Paladin Danse to you, Initiate,” growled the knight, his face ablaze with fury. “I won’t tolerate you disrespecting our commanding officer. Do you understand?”
She rolled her eyes, but nodded. “Yes, sir.”
Rhys huffed in displeasure before storming back to the side office he’d claimed as his own. Danse knew the young man was volatile, but he really wished that Larimer would at least try not to irritate him. Basic decorum really shouldn’t have been too much to ask.
“Do you have everything you need, soldier?” Danse asked her.
“Yes, sir,” Larimer replied. I even packed the extra fusion cells I found outside my door this morning. I assume those were from you.”
He nodded slightly, doing his best to ignore the pointed look Haylen was giving him. He knew they were rationing ammunition, but they had a fairly secure base. Larimer was going out alone, with no backup. It was only logical that she would need the ammo more.
“Outstanding!” he exclaimed. “I just wish I had a spare man to send with you, Initiate. I’d feel far less concerned if I knew you weren’t travelling alone.”
“You could go with her, sir,” managed Haylen, a slight blush darkening her cheeks. “We’re more than capable of holding this position ourselves for the time being. And besides, if we can’t help one woman find her kidnapped child, do we even have any hope of protecting the Commonwealth?”
He turned to his newest team member, his mind reeling. Kidnapped child? “What is she talking about, soldier?” he asked Larimer, who seemed to melt under his gaze.
Haylen gasped. “You haven’t told him?”
The taller woman shook her head, brushing a rebellious strand of white hair behind one ear. “Look, Danse,” she stammered, “I...Before I got your distress call, I was looking for someone who could help me find my son. My baby boy, Shaun. He’s less than a year old.”
“Is that why you are so determined to go to Diamond City?”
She nodded. “I was told that there might be someone there who could help me find him.”
“Why didn’t you inform me of this sooner, Larimer?” Danse asked angrily. “I would have...” That changed everything. No wonder she had been behaving so erratically. He had thought that it was simply grief over her late husband, her lost world. But if her son was out there, alone, held captive by some unknown person, well, could anyone blame her for behaving as desperately as she did?
His eyes misted slightly as he thought about what his own parents may have been like. Were they like Larimer, determined to protect their child at all costs? He hoped that his own mother had possessed My...Larimer’s tenacity, had fought for him until the end. He feared that his parents had instead given him up willingly to the streets. At least Larimer’s son was wanted, even if he was lost.
As he shook away the thought, Larimer stared up at him with cloudy eyes, her hands nervously clasped together. “I… I’m sorry, Paladin,” she murmured, crestfallen.
And now she thought he was disappointed in her. Nothing could have been further from the truth. He was proud of her resilience, her dedication to her family. How could he be upset with her, knowing what she was going through?
He placed a hand gently on her shoulder before turning towards Rhys’ door. “Knight!” he barked. “Can you come out here for a moment?”
Rhys strode back into the room, avoiding eye contact with Larimer. “What is it, sir?”
“Knight Rhys, I’m leaving you in charge of this outpost. If anything goes wrong, you or Haylen are to radio me immediately, understood?”
“Yes, sir!”
Danse turned back to Larimer. “If we leave now, we can be in Diamond City by the time the market opens tomorrow. It’s as good a place as any to look for information.”
Larimer stared at him, her mouth agape. “You mean you’re coming with me?”
“I’ll escort you at least as far as Diamond City. I told you yesterday that I would watch your back, correct?”
“Well, yes,” she replied nervously, “but this is my own personal problem, sir. I’d never ask you to…”
“Then it’s a good thing you didn’t think to ask me, soldier,” he glowered. “In case yet another of my lessons has failed to penetrate that thick skull of yours, I will remind you. You’re a member of the Brotherhood of Steel now. You are part of our family, and I will gladly do all I can for one of my brothers or sisters.”
He leaned down, whispering in her ear. “Besides, we will be doing Knight Rhys a favor, giving him a temporary command. He might finally get himself a promotion.”
She nodded, struggling to keep a straight face.
“Well, Danse, It’d be nice to have backup,” she replied. “Just as long as you honor our agreement.”
He tried to ignore the look Rhys and Haylen passed each other as he gathered his belongings. He didn’t want to even think about how they might interpret Larimer’s words. “Affirmative,” he commanded. “Let’s move out.”
“Ad Victoriam!” cried Haylen and Rhys.
“Ad Victoriam!” Danse and Larimer echoed as they left the station, heading south towards the best lead they had to find the Initiate’s missing son.