Chapter 43: Chapter 43

It took a full two weeks before the subway train was ready for use. Thanks to the maglev system, we could commute between New World 81 and Caladan in under ten minutes. I used those two weeks to improve on Caladan and up its living standards. Not much else happened between then, which was nice, though the Minutemen sent an invitation for talks in the Castle.

We also got our first actual migrants. There was a boy, Kyle, who was from Cait’s former home, that was accepted in. The guy was battered but otherwise well enough, and was willing to be branded, collared and whatever else it was that I supposedly did to people who wanted to live in my lands.

Apparently our reputation outside the Commonwealth was quite mixed.

I didn’t do any of that, of course, just made sure the friends he had here recognized him and vouched for him. There were still eyes kept on him, just for now at least.

Anyway, the news he brought of Vinebrook’s abandonment cheered up Cait and the others who were from there, and she gave a cold, grim smile when he relayed how her parents were strung up and hung. Looks like we don’t have to take her through the whole vengeance arc now.

There were also a bunch of girls escorted in by Railroad agents, freed from a raider’s brothel. Apparently the Railroad had an opportunity to clean up a place and took it, though probably there was a synth there to warrant their attention in the first place. The six girls were badly abused and were basically crippled.

I remember how everyone in New World 81, including the vault reps who came visiting, reacted when they saw the crude surgical scars on their bellies, the derogatory words tattooed or scarred onto them, and the sheer broken state of their bodies. Console showed that their sanity was still above the 50s though, so that was a good thing, and there was defiant hope and the will to live flickering through their bruised and almost completely swollen shut eyes.

The residents were various shades of angry but were also far less traumatized than I feared, quickly moving to take the girls to the healing arches. The vaulters though were ready to puke. Some, like Gwen and Scotty the security boss, kept strong, but they definitely would need time and a bowl later on. Some of the guards had to run out to get some air. Nobody shamed them after they returned from their retching.

What made things worse was one of the Railroad agents quietly revealing to us adults how the other eleven girls they found there had to be put out of their misery. Too broken in mind and body to even have a chance of recovery. Couldn’t fault them for that I guess, but the reminder of the shitty life one could have out there was rather depressing.

Thankfully once the healing arches did their thing for these six girls, they were more than happy to accept the offer to stay, almost forgetting the gratitude they owed the Railroad for sending them here. Curie reported that all six would need intensive attention, but would also be surreptitiously watched on the off chance they ‘lashed out in a violently negative manner’.

Also, she was making sure they didn’t turn out to be potential troublemakers, something the robot was suddenly very keen on ensuring with any newcomers.

With the newbies assimilating rather well, I gave it a week before announcing that we’d be moving house to Caladan in about two weeks time. New World 81 would remain staffed by robots and serve as a station to interact with Vault 81 and the rest of the Commonwealth. The individual bedrooms would be converted to bunkrooms to hold any prospective new migrants from now on, a probationary holding area before they were fully accepted and moved into Caladan.

The doors to the subway would be heavily secured and guarded to hopefully eliminate any risk of trespassers. Plus, the subway tunnel was already infested with Sentinel eyebots with harsh security protocols anyway, so I pity the fool who tries sneaking in the tunnel.

As everyone prepped for moving I went through some talks with Vault 81. Gwen and the other vault admin surprised me with a request to join as my people. Supposedly, barring a few dissenting voices, most of the vault was all for leaving the vault and living under my rule.

There was some haggling but in the end we hashed out a deal where Vault 81 would try out my set of laws for a month or so. If no problems arose, Vault 81 would be annexed and I’d give everyone a train pass to Caladan. For the time being they would have free reign of New World 81’s public amenities as well. I still had bots patrolling, so that shouldn’t be too big a deal.

For those that didn’t want to join the bandwagon, I was willing to let them stay in the vault or provide them what they needed to start a new life outside my territory. I’d probably end up converting the vault into an emergency bunker in case another wave of bombs started falling though.

Vault 81, part deux.

That or a tourist attraction...or dungeon? Oh boy, converting a vault into a black site, that should be fun...

After talks were concluded with the vault, I prepared for more talks with the Minutemen. Just for show, I quickly went back to Caladan to build up a proper docking zone and from there, launched a reseted boat out towards the Castle. Word was sent ahead via eyebot of course, so even from afar I could make out the welcoming party assembled for me.

Once we docked (more like beached) the boat on their shores, I got out of the boat along with my little entourage. Other than Piper, Cait and Nat, I picked the team captains Edward and Sylvie, as well as Phillip who recently won best shot, and Rebecca, the oldest adult we had (not much at 24, but better than nothing, plus she could carry herself like a dommy mommy sometimes). Other than myself, everyone had on the new armor kit with its clean metal finishing gleaming proudly amongst the grimy sea and beach. Since this was a friendly meeting, helmets were off, though I was prepared for any potential snipers around.

Also, after we disembarked, our bodyguards of seven Eversors including Curie unstealthed and leapt off the boat to wait just behind us. That little show got the most attention, and I noticed how the Minutemen blanched or winced at the surprise appearance. They had good discipline though and kept themselves from reaching for their weapons.

We stood casually in front of General Becker and his parade-ready men, while he gave us a sharp salute that was echoed by the forty or so men behind him. Judging from the patchwork flags proudly standing up, twelve brigades or regiments or whatever it was were represented here. If you looked closely enough, the uniforms varied here and there. One group wore army helmets, another had bolt action rifles instead of the usual laser muskets, yet one more had way cleaner uniforms than everyone else. And so on, and so on.

“Welcome back to the Castle, Sev,” the general opened with a warm smile as he walked over to offer his hand.

I returned the handshake with a smile of my own, noting the slight unease in his people behind him. “Thank you, general. Hope you’ve settled in okay?”

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“Well enough, after your repair work.” he chuckled dryly. “There were still a few nests hiding about, but they served as a good breakfast for the men and women.”

My group followed him in, between two rows of angled flags and stiffly saluting militia. Really nice reception, despite the occasional nervousness betrayed as the assaultrons got close. I guess news of Curie’s performance spread rather quickly.

“Thanks to you, we’ve been better able to project our influence and there’s a healthy rise in recruits. Not to mention the boost in morale for our men and women.”

I took the honest compliment as un-awkwardly as I could. “Well, it’d be a shame if the biggest good guys around these parts fell apart, right?”

“That’s how you see it?”

“I don’t have the coverage like you people do. Besides, who else do I work with? The Institute?”

General Becker and those around him within earshot visibly winced at the namedrop. Oh yeah, the Commonwealth’s boogeyman is a much more serious deal than how I treat them.

Speaking of boogeymans, I noticed at least three synths amongst the Minutemen around us through the console. Problem of course, was that I wasn’t sure if they were Institute or Railroad aligned.

An annoying issue, but in the grand scheme of things, I wasn’t going to really do too much with the Minutemen anyway. I just wanted to make sure they kept on keeping on as a single organization to maintain the peace and keep the idea of migrating to Caladan from being too appealing an option. It’s a kind of third party delegation.

We were eventually led into the fort itself and brought to a meeting room. The assaultrons waited outside, save for Curie. Everyone else on my end were counted as important delegates so they got to sit in and provide their input if they wanted.

Once the doors were locked and everyone took a seat, General Becker started the meeting by losing the ceremonial stiffness and taking on a more cautious look. “Let me be frank, Sev, some of us are worried that we’re unable...or will be unwilling to pay the price of what you’ve already done for us.” The fourteen men and women sitting or standing on his side of the table nodded in varying blends of grimness, stoicness or guilt.

“Well, I better let you hear my offer quickly then?” I replied easily. “I just want to ensure that this organization of yours continues running, and does so effectively and efficiently. Do what you’ve always been doing; protecting and helping people, putting down raider scumbags and super mutants, keeping things from boiling over.”

“That’s it?” One of the colonels cut in, clearly they didn’t take my words at face value. “So we’re to be your police force?”

“Who said anything about that? I already got bots around my place. I just rather things outside don’t collapse into a complete shithole so I’ll have decent neighbours to trade and talk with.”

Seeing the unimpressed looks mostly unmoved, I sighed. “Look, I don’t know what you’ve heard, but I’m not out to go claiming the entire Commonwealth as my own kingdom or anything. That’s gonna be a fucking administrative nightmare, or a genocide in the making. I’d rather just focus on my own thing at the moment, and hope that you guys operating at top form means there’s less chance that shit spills over to me.”

There were some nods at the selfish excuse given, General Becker included. “So you’re using us like...a filter?”

“Eh, kind of I guess. I’ll help you keep running as long as you don’t go turning on me, and in exchange I’m getting some protection out of it. That’s an honest and decent deal, right?”

Some further negotiating and reassuring had to be done, but in the end there was a defensive pact signed between the Minutemen and my yet unnamed realm. I’d also provide shipments of supplies (and possibly food in the future) with them, and they’d also agree to send over any freed slaves with nowhere to go, or genuine last-resort refugees to New World 81 for processing to potential citizens.

I mean, I’m already doing it, no point in discontinuing the feel good altruism.

Oh yeah, obviously I’ll keep out of their affairs and they’ll keep out of mine, so I don’t tell them where to patrol or attack, and vice versa. We could suggest, but no hard demands. I didn’t offer medical aid or access to my newer tech to maintain some obvious superiority, but I did agree to sending over a reprogrammed Mr Handy and Ms Nanny bots to serve as doctors.

Once we concluded the meeting, I decided to risk a poke. “By the way, what’s the Minutemen’s stance on witting or unwitting synth volunteers?”

The way they froze and looked at me gave me my answer, and I shrugged. “In case I find a way to reliably filter out synths and accidentally pick on one of your people.”

We sat back down again for more talks, and once the meeting actually concluded for real this time, I had given the brass something new to worry about. On the bright side, seeing grizzled veterans suddenly so spooked amused everyone on my side. Hopefully it made up for all the boring talk earlier.

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