Aubrey frowned as they walked inside. The place was barely livable. Trash and debris littered the lobby, with only a small area of the place cleaned. And even then, there were only a few sleeping bags and a table with a few chairs. For a place that was supposed to be a military-esque outpost, it was sure in a state of disarray. Preston took a moment to set his pack down, pulling out a bottle of water and sucking some down before offering the rest to Aubrey. She took it, watching the other two squad members joke as Dogmeat sat down beside her, tail wagging and sweeping a slightly cleaner spot on the floor. She scratched his ears idly, then stood and rolled her shoulders, moving to take down her hair when the once-wounded soldier stalked up to her. "You think you're some kind of hot-shot?" He growled, staring her down as if she'd insulted his mother.
"I beg your pardon?"
"I said: Do you think you are some kind of hot-shot." He spat.
"Why are you so angry with me?" Aubrey sighed, squaring her shoulders.
The man's lip twitched. "I’m not angry. I'm just letting you know where you stand. You two are hired help, and that's all there is to it."
Preston stood, once again standing at Aubrey's shoulder, ready to back her up, but he stayed silent.
Aubrey frowned at the soldier. "I'll be sure to keep out of your way, then." "You do that." He sneered. "Now, why don't you run off and see if Top needs to you do anything else." He shoulder checked her as he moved past, narrowly avoiding stepping on Dogmeat's tail.
Aubrey glanced to Danse, but he seemed absorbed in fiddling with his laser rifle, his subordinate's words unnoticed… or he simply didn't care.
"Sorry about him." The woman from before, Haylen, came up to her next. "Try not to let him get to you. He's like that to everyone new."
Aubrey shrugged. "People are who they are." "I suppose so." Haylen sighed. "Look, it may not seem like it, but Danse is a good man. He's just all soldier, protocol is his bread and butter. And Rhys? Well, let's just say he's as hard-headed as a Mister Gutsy." She looked up, meeting Aubrey's gaze. "But you know what? I'd trust both of them with my life because they're good people… and that's hard to come by nowadays. Just, give them a chance. Don't write them off because they're a bit gruff right now." Aubrey nodded. "Don't worry, I'm not in the habit of judging books by their covers." "Good. Well, you'd better see if Paladin Danse is ready for you. Unless you need medical attention?" "No, I'm fine for now." Aubrey smiled. "But thank you." Haylen nodded as she turned away, going back to whatever it was she'd been doing before.
"You set, Preston?" Aubrey asked, readjusting the simple leather chest piece she'd found at the scrap yard.
"Ready when you are, ma'am."
"Oh, God, don't 'ma'am' me, please. Just Aubrey is fine. I haven't been 'ma'am' in years." She offered him a smile, then made her way over to what had once been the reception desk. "Paladin?" "You ready to head out?" "Nearly. I just wanted to ask a question… why establish an outpost here at the police station?"
Danse shrugged in his Power Armor. "Given the nature of the facility, we felt it would be tactically advantageous to search it for weapons and ammunition. The radio tower was an… unexpected boon, but it has some rather obvious shortcomings we need to rectify." His lips quirked up in that scarcely noticeable smirk again. "It may not be as imposing as the Citadel back in the Capitol Wasteland, but it suits our purposes." So they do have a proper headquarters. Aubrey mused quietly.
"Anyway, that's all I'm willing to divulge at the moment. Are you ready to proceed with our mission?"
"We are." She nodded, glancing back as Preston patted Dogmeat's head. "Outstanding." He took his helmet, flipping it onto his head with an out of place flourish before grabbing his rifle and starting for the main door. "Let's get a move on, and try not to lag behind." Dogmeat barked and Aubrey scoffed under her breath. "Don't lag behind…. Says the man hauling two tons of steel on his back." She shook her head, following him out into the courtyard, Preston on her heels.
Danse huffed, staring at the corpse strewn courtyard as Dogmeat trotted in front of him. "We'll take this alley. Follow me." He ordered, pushing open a chain link fence that led out to the main road. "ArcJet is a short hike to the west. If we take this road, we can avoid the larger packs of ferals infesting Cambridge." He readied his weapon and started down the road. Aubrey shook her head. "Never mind that this was the shortest route to begin with…" She muttered, keeping an eye out for anything hostile that might get too close while Danse expounded on his team's mission. She half-heartedly listened, noting something about strange energy readings and two other missing teams, but she got the distinct feeling he was trying to ingratiate himself to them. They passed near to a pond, and Danse managed to pick off three of those massive 'Bloatflies' in short order, but there wasn't much else to distract them from the hour or so walk to ArcJet.
The parking lot of the building was filled with the corpses of expensive cars, the remains rusted and falling apart, barely stable on their chassis. Something tightened in Aubrey's chest. Had the employees here had time to evacuate? To take shelter in the building somewhere? How many ghosts did this ruin hold right now?
"Here we are, Arcjet." Danse's voice pulled her from her thoughts. "There shouldn't be any exterior security, so we'll head in through the front." He paused outside the door, turning to look at Aubrey. "Listen up: Our only target here is the deep range transmitter. We do this as clean and quiet as possible. No heroics, and by the book, are we clear?"
Aubrey worked her jaw for a moment, then nodded. "Crystal."
"Good. Stay focused and check your fire. I don't want to be hit by stray bullets. Or… whatever that contraption shoots." He nodded towards Preston's musket. "Let's move."
The inside of the building was just as decayed as the outside. Faded papers were scattered amongst fallen ceiling tiles. Roots from what had once been an indoor planter broke through the floor, searching for a source of water. Dust hung in the air, disturbed after potentially decades.
Danse tsked. "It was corporations like this that put the last nail in the coffin for mankind." He shook his head, kicking some debris out of a doorway. "They exploited technology for their own gains, pocketing the cash and ignoring the damage they'd done."
Aubrey frowned. "I know it." She mumbled, picking her way through the trash to a security room, nearly crashing into Danse when he stopped short.
"Look at these wrecks." He nudged the destroyed frame of what had once been a Protectron. "It appears the automated security has already been dealt with." He turned to look at Aubrey, his head tilted as if waiting for an answer.
"I, uh… I see that."
"Damn. I was hoping to avoid this." He sighed. "Look at the evidence: There's not a single spent ammunition casing, or drop of blood in sight. That can mean only one thing. These robots were assaulted by Institute synths."
Preston mumbled a quiet curse behind her, pinching the bridge of his nose. Aubrey glanced back for only a moment before speaking. "What's the 'Institute?'"
"They're a group of scientists who went underground after the Great War. Spent the last few decades littering the Commonwealth with their technological nightmares."
"So… what makes a synth different from a robot?"
"Synths are abominations." Danse spat, making Aubrey's eyebrow arch so high it felt like it would disappear into her hairline. "They're an abuse of technology designed to "improve" upon humanity. They never should have been created."
"Right…" Aubrey cleared her throat. "Well, I'll be on the lookout."
"Roger that. Let's move out."
She sighed heavily, following behind Danse, avoiding the fallen wires and tubes that he pushed idly out of the way. It was clear that he was quite used to being in Power Armor… and that she wasn't used to being in a unit with one.
"This place is a mess…" Danse spoke, seemingly to himself. "But I still see a few pieces of salvage that the Brotherhood might be interested in. Once we're done, I'll have to mark this place for sweep and retrieve."
Aubrey glanced to Preston, both of them shrugging at his comments as they entered one of the main labs for the building. "Dead end." Aubrey mused.
"Agreed. See if you can find a way to get that door open. I'll reconnoiter the area."
Oh, for Christ's sake, just say 'keep an eye out.' Aubrey sighed, moving past him towards the heavy mag-locked security door. "No way to pick this…. Thing's terminal locked."
Preston frowned at the banks of various computer terminals. "There are so many buttons… how did people know which ones to press when?"
Aubrey shrugged. "Don't know, but… let's not touch anything unless we know what it does. ArcJet was developing rockets last I heard."
"Rockets? For what?"
"For getting into space, or at least that's what they told us. I don't know if it was the actual story. I certainly wouldn't be surprised if it wasn't." She shook her head, pursing her lips as she picked up a holotape, frowning at the faded writing. She popped it into her Pipboy, letting it play while she searched through the desk, looking for anything that might key her in on how to unlock the terminal she now sat in front of.
It was a discarded work log; a recording of two employees who would've been drafted had the world not ended. A recording of two ghosts. When it ended, she stood, shaking her head slightly.
"Not yet." Aubrey sighed. "This terminal is hooked into that door over there, but it's locked down. Password-protected."
"Can' you access it at all? Turn it to the factory reset prompt?"
"In theory?" She shrugged. "I was never good with computers. That was always Nate or Tony's expertise."
Danse frowned, opening his mouth to speak when Preston cut him off. "Ma'am? Uh, I mean Aubrey?"
I don't know much about all this science stuff either, but… I think this terminal is unlocked over here."
Aubrey quirked an eyebrow and stepped around Dogmeat, scratching his head as she leaned down over the second terminal. "Yup, this one's open." She clicked through the options and blinked a few times. "Wow… very secure, ArcJet." She scoffed.
"What is it?" Danse asked.
"They have a system that resets the password every three months. It sends out an message to every employee with the new password." She found an old ballpoint pen, scribbling on a scratch sheet of paper until the ink began to flow, then writing the series of letters and numbers on her forearm. "An ambitious 10 year old could've broken into this place."
"Fortuitous for us, at least." Danse added. "Let's get that door open."
Aubrey typed in the password, selecting the option to open the security door. The doors mag-locks screeched out their protest to being moved, and the tracks the door was on groaned as it opened.
"AMBUSH!" Danse shouted not a second later, opening fire into the other room. Aubrey ducked behind the desk, readying her pistol, peering over the table as Preston grabbed the desk chair to use for what cover it would provide.
"By order of the Institute, you must be destroyed." The voice was deep and mechanical, the words spaced strangely.
Aubrey's eyes widened as she saw the owner of the voice. A humanoid robot… an android. Several androids. Most of whom were firing upon Danse in his power armor. She shifted, steadying her arms on the desk's surface, aiming for the robot's head. "God I hope that’s its CPU." She muttered, pulling the trigger.
The robot staggered, one of the bullets hitting its mark, but not doing anything to put it down. "You are damaging Institute property." It spat, changing course for her.
"Shit, fuck." She fired three more rounds at it, but they did nothing to stop its advance.
"DUCK!" Preston shouted.
He fired his musket, and the robot went down, inches from bludgeoning her with something that looked vaguely like an electric security baton.
Aubrey picked it up, switching it on its highest setting. She looked at Preston, then to his musket, then over to Danse with his laser rifle. "Electricity." She muttered, vaulting herself over the desk and behind another of the androids that was making its way over to them, this one armed with its own strange looking energy weapon.
She didn't stop to think, jamming the baton into the android's neck, watching as electricity arced over its exposed wiring. "Sys-sys-sys-system… er-error…" It stuttered out as it dropped, offline.
Aubrey holstered her pistol, grabbing the fallen android's weapon and ducking as yet another one fired at her and Preston, the beam of light just barely missing her.
Fire, fire. No recoil, it's a laser.
Exhale. Target down. Inhale.
Aim. Fire, fire.
Then the room was quiet, save for the blood pounding in her ears. She looked around the room, scanning for any further movement.
"Hostiles eliminated." Danse said, lowering his rifle. "Good thinking, using that shock baton. Well done."
Aubrey released a breath she didn't know she was holding, glancing down at herself. "Thanks…" She mumbled, reaching down and picking up another of the strange laser weapons. She pulled its fusion cell out of the chamber, then set it back down after checking the cell in the pistol she currently held.
"Good idea." Danse nodded again. "Salvage what ammunition you can. Keep using that weapon, too. You'll find replacement ammunition for it far easier than you will your pistol."
Aubrey nodded, her throat suddenly very dry as she pulled out all of the fusion cells. Only one was fully charged, but she'd make do. "Preston, do you need ammo for that thing?"
"No, I have my own still. You hold onto those."
She stuffed the extra cells into the pouch on her chest piece. She had a feeling she'd need it later.
"I'll take point from here." Danse said. "My Power Armor will protect me."
They inched forward through the newly opened pathway. For every doorway and hallway they passed through, he left huge footprints, barely able to fit through. And in every room, at least two more synths attacked them. Never once were they given a chance to explain themselves or talk, but Danse didn't seem keen to give the androids a chance to talk either. He fired upon them just as much as they fired upon him.
Aubrey and Preston kept Dogmeat between them, each of them picking off the androids that stayed at range to try and shoot at Danse, seemingly not expecting there to be two unarmored individuals just behind him.
But still, Danse pressed forward, muttering to himself about 'synths compromising the facility.'
Aubrey just wanted to be done with this harebrained scheme. Especially when the turrets activated.
"Alright, Engine Core's ahead." Danse sighed. "Should be our last stop." He forced open the final door, revealing a darkened hallway, with barely enough room to walk through for the debris piling up. "Watch your footing through here." Danse offered, clicking on his armor's headlamp. "Looks like the power's out in this section."
Aubrey turned on her Pip-Boy light, bathing the hallway in an eerie green. This area was silent, unnervingly so.
"Looks like the synths didn't get this far." Preston offered.
It didn't ease the knot in Aubrey's gut as they made it to the main Engine Core. The walls and catwalks were carbon-scored, proof of the tests that had once occurred in this building.
Danse let out a quiet whistle. "Look at this thing… Scribes would have a field day in here."
"Is that the rocket?" Preston asked, frowning at the shadowed contraption suspended above them.
"Most likely." Danse answered. "Come on. Intel suggests the transmitter would be in the control room, at the top of the core. But the elevators are dead, and the stairway has failed. We'll have to head down, see if we can restart the building's auxiliary generators." He started down the stairs, his Power armor making the dilapidated catwalks creak and moan under his weight.
Aubrey exhaled in barely contained relief when they made it to the ground, pushing a stray lock of hair from her face.
Danse tsked as he looked around the room. "There has to be a backup power generator somewhere around here…. Scout the maintenance area there, off the main chamber. I'll stay here, cover our six."
From what? We killed all those androids. Aubrey thought, but said nothing, clicking her tongue to call Dogmeat to her side again. The maintenance area was just as dilapidated as the rest of the building, despite having been left undisturbed for so long. She stopped just inside, frowning at a strange contraption on a table.
"Now, what do you think this thing is?" Preston asked, putting a voice to her thoughts.
"Don't know. Looks vaguely like a weapon to me, but I've never seen anything like it." She picked up a holotape beside it, the writing on it too sloppy and faded to make out. "Wonder if this can tell us." She popped the holotape into her Pip-Boy, shoving the old one into her pack.
The holotape crackled to life, playing the voice of some squeaky-voiced technician bemoaning his coworkers' bullying. Aubrey shook her head, the problems of yesteryear seemed so… petty compared to now. "But they'll see…. They'll all see… once I finish my project… my Junk Jet." The holotape clicked off and Preston hummed in thought.
"Junk Jet, huh? Wonder what it does. Might be worth taking with us."
"Judging by the name, it probably shoots junk." Aubrey mused. "But it's a prototype at best. And it is huge. Not going to be easy to carry."
"Well, when ammo is hard to come by, it could come in handy." Preston shrugged. "Can't hurt to at least test it out."
"Let's.…get the power back on, if that's even possible. Then we'll worry about this thing." Aubrey said, walking towards the banks of computers. "So many switches… talk about rocket science." She muttered, wiping the dust off the displays. "Nothing here about power, though."
"What about through here? I think I see a terminal." Preston called. "Looks like its hooked up to some sort of…panel? And I think those are generators."
Aubrey moved past him, coughing as she kicked up more dust. "Yeah, that's a fusebox." He grabbed the lever on it and pulled it down, frowning when nothing happened. "Well, that was anticlimactic." She sighed. "And the damn terminal is locked. Fuck."
Preston pursed his lips. "How much you wanna bet that we have to unlock the terminal to turn on the power?"
"If I had any money." Aubrey sighed. "I saw Tony do this a couple of times. He taught me the basics… should be like riding a bike…" She mumbled.
"Tony is.…was my brother." Aubrey offered. "We… my father turned to the bottle after my mom died. Tony and I had to fend for ourselves a lot. Tony learned how to mess with computers to get what we needed, I learned how to pick locks." She frowned at the terminal. "But I watched him enough times… I might be able to muddle my way through this."
"I'll look around, see if I can spot anything that might be able to help you."
Aubrey nodded. "A password would be great…"
Preston chuckled. "I'll definitely look."
It took a half-hour for Aubrey to finally get the factory password. "Oh my God, that little bleep is the best sound I've heard today." She muttered, pinching the bridge of her nose.
Preston joined her again. "Good job. I think that Paladin is about to wear a whole through the floor."
Aubrey snorted, turning on the power generators, then flipping the fusebox switch again.
Some of the cables sparked, and the generators groaned in protest as their fans puffed out the dust that had collected. But the lights flickered to life, and a robotic voice called out that the engine was ready for testing.
Then the sound of laser fire filled the small chamber.
"SYNTH AMBUSH!" Danse shouted from the main chamber. "Need backup!"
"Shit." Aubrey swore, grabbing the laser pistol from the table and darting for the main chamber. "Oh Christ."
"We're not gonna win that, not alone." Preston swore.
"SOLDIER! DO SOMETHING, IMPROVISE."
Aubrey scanned the room. "Preston, grab any piece of junk you can find."
"We're testing this thing." She grunted, pulling the Junk Jet off the table. "Okay… not as heavy as I thought."
She pulled open the cover for what she hoped was the ammo chamber on the thing."
Preston handed her a series of wrenches and a few ball-peen hammers. "Are you sure this'll work?"
"No. But at least if it doesn’t maybe it'll make a good pipebomb." She hauled the Junk Jet up to her hip. "Christ on a bicycle…" she muttered. "Keep grabbing junk like that." She ordered, her command training taking over. "I'll distract the androids."
Preston nodded, darting back into the labs as she hauled the contraption to the maintenance door. "Mind your head, Danse!" She shouted, then pushed the trigger on it, sending the wrenches flying at the androids.
It certainly had the desired effect, as a wrench managed to properly sever one of the androids' arms. The robotic voices were overlapping, preventing her from hearing exactly what they were saying.
"Danse! Watch yourself! Grenade!" Preston shouted, tossing a frag grenade into the line of rapidly advancing androids.
Danse turned his head, raising his arm to shield his face as the grenade exploded. The shrapnel launched out, and the explosion left a good number of the androids struggling to stand with shards of metal in their joints. That combined with the junk that Aubrey leveled at them, and Danse's laser fire, they managed to put down the last of them.
Danse stood, having been forced to a knee from the amount of synths that had ambushed them. "Thank you. Well done, using that… whatever it is." He frowned at the contraption.
"Junk Jet." Aubrey supplied, standing. "Are you alright?"
"I'm still in one piece, thanks to my Power Armor. Do either of you need medical attention?"
Aubrey glanced to Preston and Dogmeat. "No. We're fine."
"Good, then let's get up to the control room and get the damn transmitter." He sighed.
Aubrey nodded, swallowing. The elevator could barely hold the bunch of them. A power armor unit, two adults, and a dog seemed to be the very limit of what it could move. And she was practically flattened into the corner.
She forced herself to breathe normally, maintaining a vice-like grip on the handles.
"Aubrey?" Preston looked over to her. "Are you alright?"
"I'm fine." She answered, probably too quickly. "I just… hate elevators."
Preston was quiet for a moment, glancing to her white-knuckled grip on the railing. "It shouldn't be too much longer." He offered.
No sooner had he finished his sentence did the door open. Aubrey took a deep breath the instant she was out, flexing her fingers slightly while Dogmeat licked at them. She patted his head idly, shaking her head at Preston's concerned look.
Danse stalked up the remainder of the stairs to the control room, growling in frustration as he started firing on the last of the androids. There were only a few left, so he managed to take them out before Aubrey or Preston could even get a shot off. "Damn. I don't see the transmitter here anywhere."
"Please don't tell me we did all this for nothing." Aubrey deadpanned.
"No. It's here. It's likely the synths were after it as well. Check their remains."
Aubrey nodded to Preston and they began to search the room. Preston seemed more intent on salvaging the fusion cells from the android's rifles. So Aubrey picked over the synths, until she found one that had fallen near some strange plastic case. Grabbing a screwdriver off a nearby desk, she carefully pried it open, taking out something that was definitely Pre-War in design. "Danse, is this it?"
"Yes. Excellent. Let's get out of here. We can take the service elevator to the top." He sighed, walking over and all but smashing the button.
Aubrey swallowed again. No. Now is not the time to have a panic attack over a fucking elevator. She scolded herself.
She forced herself to breathe evenly, twisting her fingers together and picking at the sleeve of her Vault suit. Another quiet sigh of relief escaped her once the doors finally opened and Danse walked out.
"General?" Preston's voice was soft as he spoke to her, concern in his eyes.
Aubrey swallowed and shook her head. "I'm fine. Let's go." She frowned at the darkened sky.
"Bunker looks clear, let's move out." Danse muttered, his Power Armor thumping heavily as he pushed open the access door and stepped into the night air. Aubrey turned on her Pip-boy light, following him quietly as he surveyed the area, then lowered his weapon. "Well, that could've gone smoother, but mission accomplished."
Aubrey arched an eyebrow. "Smoother?" She prompted. "I thought we did fine, all things considered."
Danse shook his head, pulling off his helmet and tucking it under his arm. "That sweep was sloppy. We were caught unprepared more than once, which is unacceptable."
Preston shook his head, his brow furrowed as he leaned against the hulk of a rusting 18-wheeler.
"But," Danse sighed softly. "Your extra guns gave us the edge we needed. I'm not certain I could have accomplished this mission alone."
Aubrey nodded. "You're welcome." She sighed, tilting her head from side to side to unlock the muscles of her neck. "I suppose…. That's it then?"
"Not necessarily. All things considered, we have two important matters left to discuss." Danse sighed through his nose. "First, if you'll hand me the Deep Range Transmitter, I'd like to compensate you for your assistance."
Aubrey held out the widget to him, suppressing a flinch as she tried to avoid her hands being crushed by his Power Armor gloves. "Of course."
"Thank you. Here." Danse held out his laser rifle to her. "Take this weapon. It's better than the one you have." He nodded down to her holstered pistol. "My own personal modification to the standard Brotherhood Laser Rifle. I call it Righteous Authority. May it serve you well in battle."
"Don't.…you need to keep it?" She swallowed, fumbling slightly when Danse pressed it into her hands.
"This isn't the only weapon at my disposal." He shrugged. "Brotherhood soldiers always carry a backup. And for you, friend, you're very accurate with your handmade rifle. Will some additional ammunition suffice for acceptable compensation?" Danse glanced over to Preston, pulling out a small case of fusion cells.
Preston blinked, taking an extra moment to process Danse's words. "Yeah… yeah, that's fine."
Danse nodded, handing him the case before turning back to Aubrey. "Now, as far as the second matter goes, I wanted to make the two of you a proposal." He squared his shoulders, adopting a stance of practiced command. "We had a lot thrown at us back there. Our op could've ended in disaster, but both of you kept your cool and handled it like soldiers. Thought creatively to get out of unusual circumstances." He nodded towards the Junk Jet Aubrey had set down by the door of the bunker. "There's no doubt in my mind: you've got what it takes."
Preston's eyes narrowed and he stood taller, glancing to Aubrey. She simply arched her eyebrow at the Paladin.
Danse continued, and Aubrey wasn't sure if he was picking up on Preston's discomfort. "The way I see it, you've got two options. You could spend your lives wandering from place to place, trading a helping hand for a meager reward."
Preston's cheek twitched and he shifted his musket in his hands.
"Or, you could join the Brotherhood of Steel, and make your mark on the world." Danse smirked, as if he'd just offered them both a buffet spread of good food but with a price tag the size of Montana.
"Absolutely not." Preston growled. "The Minutemen are more than capable of taking care of ourselves. And each other."
Danse nodded. "I'm sorry you feel that way. What about you?" He turned to look at Aubrey. "What do you say?"
Aubrey sighed through her nose, biting her lip. "What…. What would be expected of me, if I were to join?"
"You're not seriously considering joining them, are you?" Preston asked, taking her elbow. "General?"
"Preston, please…" Aubrey held up a hand. "I'll hear him out."
"I said 'I'll hear him out,' Preston." Her own voice took on a tone of command. "We can afford him that much."
"Thank you." Danse nodded. "If you were to join, you'd be under my command. I'd expect you to follow orders. No more mercenary work, this is the real thing."
"We're not mercenaries." Preston muttered.
"Right." Danse's nod was definitely dismissive. She'd seen that nod far too many times by her own commanders in the Navy.
"In addition, you'd be entitled to two square meals a day, top of the line medical care, advanced military training and weaponry, and potentially, your own suit of Power Armor, depending on your chosen career path. But most importantly, you'd have the Brotherhood at your back." Danse smirked again. "Ready to spill their own blood to keep you alive." He paused for a moment, letting his words sink in. "My offer still stands, can we count on you?"
Aubrey bit her lip again, then pressed them into a thin line. "I… I don't know. I'd need time to think."
"I know the Brotherhood has all the fancy toys, but you promised that you'd help rebuild the Minutemen, General… Please don't forget that?"
"It is a big decision." Danse offered. "I can understand your hesitation, and your need for contemplation. If anything, it reinforces my decision to ask your to join us. We need people who aren't impulsive; who don't make overly emotional decisions." He nodded, setting his helmet back on his head. "Once you've made your decision, you know where to find us. Good luck." With a final nod, he turned on his heels, as much as the armor would allow and started down the hill toward the main road.
Aubrey sighed through her nose, letting her shoulders drop as she rubbed at the back of her neck. "Well, that was an adventure."
"Cocky bastard." Preston muttered. "Acting like he's so much better than us just because he has a good rifle and Power Armor."
Aubrey nodded, but offered no response, instead choosing to examine the rifle Danse had given her. Aside from some strange insignia on it and what looked like a custom paintjob, it looked like a regular laser rifle the Army and Marine Corps would've used. And Danse was right, it was undoubtedly more powerful than the little 10mm pistol she'd been using… and for which she was running low on ammunition. At least she could put all those extra fusion cells she'd taken from the androids to use, should she need.
Aubrey looked up. "Hm?"
"I asked if you wanted to camp out here, or try and push for a safer location?" Preston asked.
"Sorry." Aubrey shook her head. "Do you think that this 'Institute' will send a recovery team for their androids?"
Preston shrugged. "I don't think so. Whenever one of those things gets put down, they stay down. We've come across old ones before too."
Aubrey pressed her lips into a thin line. "Then let's stay here. We know the building is clear. And there were some old couches in the main lobby. We can barricade the doors to be safe."