Chapter Text
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If Danse were to condense his life, he had lived a life of three chapters, the first being his childhood in the Capital Wasteland, the second being his current existence in the Brotherhood of Steel, and the third, coming to the Commonwealth. In his younger days, his day to day survival had taught him well when trusting his instincts, keeping him alive as he scavenged and sold scrap he had fished out of the DC ruins. He had learned to keep Cutler in his life and trust him with it. It was what had lead him to seize the opportunity when the Brotherhood arrived to let not only his ambition, but his passion to be part of something greater. And it was there he flourished under the stern eyes of his own mentor, Paladin Krieg, into the man he had become.
The third and current chapter had begun however, the most innocuous of all of them. And it had begun the moment that she stumbled into his life at the Cambridge police department.
Despite the distress call, he had expected no rescue as was custom, least of all a rescue from a single stranger. Especially one that seemed so out of their depth as she charged in plain sight down the street toward them. He and the remnants of his team were locked in a desperate struggle, as wave after wave of feral ghouls clawed at his armor and reached with starved fervor for his face. He had glimpsed her movement first in his periphery through some panels of the barricade to his right; he had even debated shooting at this strange new threat, but she fired first. A ghoul fell between them, before she turned to cover her flank as she continued to run towards them. More of the rabid ferals emerged from a nearby wreckage, one managing to grab onto her pistol, almost knocking her over in its charge. A large dog rocketed from a nearby alley and began to tear into the creature's leg, wrenching it away from her in time to give her a clear shot of the monster's skull.
After shoving another feral away as it tore at her arm, she managed to wade her way through the chokepoint with some well-placed shots and the mutt on her heels. At least for now, she seemed to be acting as an unlikely ally, and he called his subordinates to be aware of this new civilian’s presence. They dispatched feral scum after feral scum with the silent teamwork of strangers in the face of a united enemy as she kept to his back.
When the dust cleared, and the last gurgle of the fallen ghouls subsided, there was a tense silence as they turned and surveyed each other. His initial reaction was suspicious, as he subtly scanned for the hidden glint of a rifle somewhere or movement from behind the barricade, for any indication of an ambush. One could hardly blame him, as he eyed her up and down. She looked like a raider fallen on hard times, her armor a hodgepodge of clearly scavenged gear, a dusty militia hat with a big scorch mark along the side perched across her ponytailed brown hair. She wore a blue bandanna across her face, masking everything but her eyes, and beneath the armor he glimpsed a similar hint of blue. The blue of a Vault suit.
The dog trotted up from worrying one of the deceased ghouls, before coming to sit at her side panting and tail wagging. She reached down and patted it affectionately a few times, before refocusing her attention on him. Deliberately and slowly, she sheathed her laser pistol in a show of good faith and cleared her throat. She met his gaze, shaded by the brim of her hat.
"...Hi."
His brow furrowed slightly, taken aback by her awkward tone in the face of the battle they had just fought side by side. "We appreciate the assistance, civilian. But what's your business here?" his voice stern. He would not be disarmed.
"Before I answer, will you tell me who you are?" she replied back coolly. Her tone irked him, but he remained unperturbed.
"In due time. If you want to remain in our compound, I suggest you answer my question first." His laser rifle was still in his hand.
Her next words seemed less rigid. "...I'm just trying to survive out here, like everyone else." a hint of sadness maybe, almost humor? Unclear.
"The way you charged in and engaged those ferals, I find that a bit difficult to believe. Are you from a local settlement?"
"Do all these questions really matter? After all, I helped you fight those ferals." he could detect that faint exasperation as she folded her arms.
Fair enough. He relinquished. "You make a fair point." He began to move back towards the fallen Knight Rhys while keeping her in sight. Scribe Haylen was at their comrade’s side, trying to stem the bleeding. Both glanced at the ragtag newcomer, as she in turn stared back. "Haylen, take Rhys inside and bind his wounds. Rhys, once you're on your feet, I want you to make sure the perimeter is secure." he ordered, breaking the standoff. Hearing the confirmations, he looked back at her as she stood waiting,her posture unsure if she was being dismissed or sidelined while Rhys and Haylen limped into the Police station.
He then knew it was time for him to make a decision. He still did not trust her, had no clear view he had ascertained to her motivations. It just didn’t make sense, not here on the wasteland. Why had she come to help? Was she trying to setup an easier ambush for later? But surely in the heat of the oncoming pressure of the feral ghouls and having wounded to protect would have been the perfect time to do so. On the other hand, they were down half their team and supplies were dwindling. No help was coming for them without the distress signal. Despite his suspicions, he knew that not accepting potential aid at this point in time could be a death sentence for him and the remainder of his team.
“If you want to continue chipping in, we could use an extra gun on our side.” How much did one offer a mercenary? He had never had to do so before. If he could just hire her just long enough to get the components for the signal tower, that could...would, have to be enough. He could feel the faint, grudging shame of having to resort to such a measure creep from his stubborn pride, before he quelled it in the face of their current grim reality.
Before he could offer a price however she interrupted his thoughts. “I want to help, but I don’t like the secrecy. Who are you, really?”
So strange. The insignia on his chest, the power armor should’ve been dead giveaways. He was rather surprised she didn’t have at least some inkling of who they were, but perhaps he was being too presumptious. Granted there were no Brotherhood chapters out here and isolation from current events was not unheard of, but he would have thought at least some stories would have filtered out here via traders or caravans. He had first assumed that her vault suit had been looted from some long deceased vault dweller, but the more he processed, the more he pondered that she could really be one. If that was true, why was she out here?
Focus. “ Very well. I’m Paladin Danse, Brotherhood of Steel. In there is Scribe Haylen and Knight Rhys. We’re on recon duty.” No recognition flickered in her face at his words, at least the parts of her face he could see.
He paused. Trusting a stranger with the delicateness of their situation was dangerous. What was his gut telling him?
Do or die.
“I’m down a man and our supplies have been running low. I’ve been trying to send a distress call to my superiors, but the signal’s too weak to reach them. Scribe Haylen has modified the radio tower atop this police station, but it’s still not enough. We need something to boost the signal.”
The woman nodded in understanding, the first flicker of recognition. “ Our target is ArcJet Systems, and it contains the technology we need, the Deep Range Transmitter.”
“That makes sense. I’ve been there before when I-” she cut herself off. “I scavenged there before.”
Ignoring the awkward skip, he continued. “What I'm suggesting is that we infiltrate the facility, secure the transmitter and bring it back here. So what do you say? You willing to lend the Brotherhood of Steel a hand?”
She paused, deep in thought. ”It’s a good plan. If we make it back.” a hint of dryness in her voice, beneath the trepidation.
She wasn’t alone in her uncertainty in this. Despite the excellent marksmanship he had glimpsed of her during the fight, her movements spoke volumes to her lack of training and inexperience. There was an all around, cryptic uncertainty to everything about her; the way she spoke, her body language. He had never met a vault dweller before, but if he had to guess on how they acted after recently coming to the surface, this seemed (theoretically), textbook behavior. Untainted by the harshness of the above ground world, tentative and naive. Something about it…irked him. He almost felt sorry.
It reminded him of himself, so many years ago working as a scrapper.
It wasn’t as he had imagined like it had been for his mentor Paladin Krieg towards him, starry eyed young man Danse had once been, eager to prove his worth. Rather, in her he could briefly glimpse or perhaps feel, ….something. Something worth nurturing here. Or maybe it was the recognition that this teetering fawn was easy prey in this harsh landscape. His thoughts strayed to his fallen brothers in this accursed mission. Half of his team, hardened soldiers, all killed in action. How much better would she fare?
“I can assure you that I wouldn’t undertake this mission unless I had absolute confidence in your abilities.” A half truth. If he didn’t undertake this mission soon, then he and his team would be likely dead in the near future as well. While Scribe Haylen was a capable soldier, her skills were in the field of medicine and engineering, less so combat, and Knight Rhys was injured. Going alone had been just about the only option left for him.
However the stranger seemed to take in his bluff and nodded. He continued towards the station and she followed at his eight, just behind him while still in view.
“Alright civilian, time to prove your worth. Head into the police station and resupply yourself, then let me-”
“Nora.” she quietly spoke.
He glanced at her, his hand at the door. “What?”
“My name is Nora.” she seemed a bit embarrassed by the sudden interjection.
He didn't respond, merely looking her over before opening the door.
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