Crimson Paladin
QJT
Heckno12
Thayr
Red Wizard
Noctis
Letter Bee
Crusader Lord
PrizrakVeteran Ranger Richard Holmes - Fort Golf
Richard evenly spread the dried tobacco in the cigarette paper before rolling it with one fluid motion. He placed it in his mouth, brought up his lighter, lit it and took a drag. He exhaled then offered the cigarette to the prisoner in front of him. The man had been dressed in an old janitor’s jumpsuit. His arms still bound behind his back and his legs tied to the chair he was in. He had refused breakfast when Richard brought him food and so the old ranger hoped the young man might at least take the cigarette. He refused that as well. Richard shrugged then returned the cigarette to his lips. It was admittedly stale tasting but Richard had been awake all night and aside from a breakfast of gravy, biscuits and greens he hadn’t had much of a respite upon his return to the camp. He had wanted to take a shower and change his clothes but there weren’t many among the platoon of rangers stationed at headquarters that had experience with the Brotherhood of Steel. The war between them and the NCR had been over for years, the dogmatic believers had been exterminated, integrated or pushed underground; often in a very literal sense. Even a veteran of the war such as Richard hadn’t laid his eyes on a member of the Brotherhood in a decade or more. They had become ghosts, there were always stories of sightings but the evidence was never there.
Now that had changed and sitting in front of him was living, breathing proof that the Brotherhood survived. Richard wasn’t too surprised, while his comrades gave up on ever crossing paths with them again, he knew they were still out there. Denver had known it as well, even when he was mocked by his subordinates for ‘chasing ghosts’ the colonel pursued any claims they came across no matter how dubious. The old dog had even sent Richard to investigate a sighting out by NoVac. Richard had spent the better part of the day trying to talk to an insane old man who claimed to have seen everything from ‘communist ghosts’ to something called a chupacabra. It wasn’t a fruitful lead and that had been seven years ago, since then nothing.
“How’s your eye?”
The bleeding had stopped and a scab was starting to form, bruises had begun to shade the right eye of the prisoner. The result of a pistol whipping during the arrest. The man merely looked at Richard in response, his lip pulled in a sneer. He hadn’t said a word since they arrested him. The young man had fought like a rabid dog when Richard and the other rangers ambushed them the night before. He was a good fighter, they all were, the teachings of the Brotherhood required all their members to be competent fighters, even the scribes. That was something Richard respected, even when pushed to the brink of extinction they never played the victim, never capitulated and never surrendered. The Brotherhood had earned their reputation and Richard knew that only a fool would underestimate them. That was why he and other rangers had waited until night time to ambush them. Why Richard had ordered them to be stripped of their clothing out in the desert and why they had been taken to the cells below the resort. They would use anything and anyone they could to escape and return to their people. Both of them were young, perhaps mid-twenties, young enough for Denver and Richard to be their fathers. They hadn’t been there at Operation Sunburst, but no doubt they had lost a loved one. Perhaps their parents, an older sibling or both.
“You know you kind of look like my son.”
The man’s face softened for a movement, his sneer dropped and he raised his head up a bit more. Richard could tell he hadn’t expected to hear that.
“Yeah, he’d be about your age now. He was quiet as a baby, didn’t cry, not even once. I had planned on finishing out my contract. Head back home, buy a couple acres off my brother and really settle down. Don’t get me wrong I loved my work, I loved the people I was with, you know how it is. Being a ranger ain’t too different from your Brotherhood, people you can rely on, people you can trust. We both know that's hard to find these days. I’m not sure I ever really loved his mother but I loved him, I knew that for certain. He had these big brown eyes and they just seemed to grow bigger every time he saw him. A wide toothy grin when I would roll up to our shack. You ever have a child smile when you come back and cry when you leave? That's…that's a good feeling.”
Richard finished his cigarette, extinguished it and then absent mindedly rolled another. The man in the chair continued to stare at him, his hard demeanor had returned but he kept his attention on the ranger. The door behind Richard unlocked and he turned to see Denver enter the small room. The colonel was holding two hot cups of coffee, he handed one to Richard and held the other out to the prisoner.
“Coffee?”
The man shook his head and the colonel smiled.
“Well that’s progress. He say anything to you Rich?”
Richard shook his head, “No sir. How about his friend?”
“Well she ain’t exactly singing but she ain’t silent either. She smirked when I mentioned old Elder Elijah, so I guess he is out of the game.” Denver let out a sigh and crouched down to look the prisoner in the eye. “Serves him right though huh? Considering how many of ya’ll he got killed back at Helios. You know that we killed more of your people in those five days of fighting than I had seen in the five years before.”
The prisoner spit directly into Denver’s face. He merely smiled and stood up, taking out his handkerchief and wiping the saliva from his face.
“You know boy, you might wanna save that spit if you’re not gonna eat or drink anything. It's a long way to prison and the Mojave sun is awfully unkind. Your friend is much more considerate of our hospitality. I just watched her finish a full breakfast with coffee. Believe me Major Addams doesn’t serve a full breakfast. Hell you’ll be lucky if you get two meals a week. But your friend you see, she’s gonna keep eating right cause she’ll stay here with us.”
The prisoner held his sneer but his eyes widened ever so slightly and they darted between the colonel and the ranger. Richard could tell he was looking for if Denver bluffed. The young Brotherhood member had done well on anticipating his captivity thus far. He had kept silent and remained calm when separated from his partner. But now when confronted with the fact he was to be moved to the prison while she was to stay.
"You think you're protecting your people with this silence and this resistance but you're not. You're doing it for you because you're a coward. Your friend, see she's taking our food and drinking our drink because she knows she has to stay strong. Every minute longer that she is alive is more time she has to get back to her people. She has enough faith in herself to be willing to accept what we offer and not give in. You? You know the second you take anything we offer that you will crumble. Go ahead and shave him, Richard, we’ll send him out tomorrow.”
Richard nodded and got up, taking a pair of electric shears from the maintenance shelf. He walked around to the rear of the prisoner and placed his hand on his shoulder, then head and began shaving him. Richard had learned it was not uncommon for those Brotherhood members on extended missions to hide wires among their hair. Thus if they were ever deprived of their gear or taken prisoner they could do anything from pick locks to start fires and strangle someone. The shears caught on a small copper wire, Richard yanked it from the man’s head. He groaned and blood flowed freely from the small wound. Richard continued to shave his head till it was smooth and fuzzy. He then gave it a small pat and dusted it off with a rag. The colonel had merely watched the man to ensure he didn’t try anything. When the cutting was done he stood and said his goodbyes to the prisoner and Richard. The young man’s gaze had been locked on the colonel and when the man left the room his eyes drifted back towards the floor. Richard resumed his seat and started drinking his coffee, he again offered the other one to the prisoner. He refused.
“Suit yourself. But the colonel is right, this may be your last time to drink or eat for a while.”
The man didn’t lift his gaze from the floor, but after a moment he shrugged. Richard smiled, and finished his coffee. He stayed there for another hour but then he rose, said goodbye to the young man and left.
Richard evenly spread the dried tobacco in the cigarette paper before rolling it with one fluid motion. He placed it in his mouth, brought up his lighter, lit it and took a drag. He exhaled then offered the cigarette to the prisoner in front of him. The man had been dressed in an old janitor’s jumpsuit. His arms still bound behind his back and his legs tied to the chair he was in. He had refused breakfast when Richard brought him food and so the old ranger hoped the young man might at least take the cigarette. He refused that as well. Richard shrugged then returned the cigarette to his lips. It was admittedly stale tasting but Richard had been awake all night and aside from a breakfast of gravy, biscuits and greens he hadn’t had much of a respite upon his return to the camp. He had wanted to take a shower and change his clothes but there weren’t many among the platoon of rangers stationed at headquarters that had experience with the Brotherhood of Steel. The war between them and the NCR had been over for years, the dogmatic believers had been exterminated, integrated or pushed underground; often in a very literal sense. Even a veteran of the war such as Richard hadn’t laid his eyes on a member of the Brotherhood in a decade or more. They had become ghosts, there were always stories of sightings but the evidence was never there.
Now that had changed and sitting in front of him was living, breathing proof that the Brotherhood survived. Richard wasn’t too surprised, while his comrades gave up on ever crossing paths with them again, he knew they were still out there. Denver had known it as well, even when he was mocked by his subordinates for ‘chasing ghosts’ the colonel pursued any claims they came across no matter how dubious. The old dog had even sent Richard to investigate a sighting out by NoVac. Richard had spent the better part of the day trying to talk to an insane old man who claimed to have seen everything from ‘communist ghosts’ to something called a chupacabra. It wasn’t a fruitful lead and that had been seven years ago, since then nothing.
“How’s your eye?”
The bleeding had stopped and a scab was starting to form, bruises had begun to shade the right eye of the prisoner. The result of a pistol whipping during the arrest. The man merely looked at Richard in response, his lip pulled in a sneer. He hadn’t said a word since they arrested him. The young man had fought like a rabid dog when Richard and the other rangers ambushed them the night before. He was a good fighter, they all were, the teachings of the Brotherhood required all their members to be competent fighters, even the scribes. That was something Richard respected, even when pushed to the brink of extinction they never played the victim, never capitulated and never surrendered. The Brotherhood had earned their reputation and Richard knew that only a fool would underestimate them. That was why he and other rangers had waited until night time to ambush them. Why Richard had ordered them to be stripped of their clothing out in the desert and why they had been taken to the cells below the resort. They would use anything and anyone they could to escape and return to their people. Both of them were young, perhaps mid-twenties, young enough for Denver and Richard to be their fathers. They hadn’t been there at Operation Sunburst, but no doubt they had lost a loved one. Perhaps their parents, an older sibling or both.
“You know you kind of look like my son.”
The man’s face softened for a movement, his sneer dropped and he raised his head up a bit more. Richard could tell he hadn’t expected to hear that.
“Yeah, he’d be about your age now. He was quiet as a baby, didn’t cry, not even once. I had planned on finishing out my contract. Head back home, buy a couple acres off my brother and really settle down. Don’t get me wrong I loved my work, I loved the people I was with, you know how it is. Being a ranger ain’t too different from your Brotherhood, people you can rely on, people you can trust. We both know that's hard to find these days. I’m not sure I ever really loved his mother but I loved him, I knew that for certain. He had these big brown eyes and they just seemed to grow bigger every time he saw him. A wide toothy grin when I would roll up to our shack. You ever have a child smile when you come back and cry when you leave? That's…that's a good feeling.”
Richard finished his cigarette, extinguished it and then absent mindedly rolled another. The man in the chair continued to stare at him, his hard demeanor had returned but he kept his attention on the ranger. The door behind Richard unlocked and he turned to see Denver enter the small room. The colonel was holding two hot cups of coffee, he handed one to Richard and held the other out to the prisoner.
“Coffee?”
The man shook his head and the colonel smiled.
“Well that’s progress. He say anything to you Rich?”
Richard shook his head, “No sir. How about his friend?”
“Well she ain’t exactly singing but she ain’t silent either. She smirked when I mentioned old Elder Elijah, so I guess he is out of the game.” Denver let out a sigh and crouched down to look the prisoner in the eye. “Serves him right though huh? Considering how many of ya’ll he got killed back at Helios. You know that we killed more of your people in those five days of fighting than I had seen in the five years before.”
The prisoner spit directly into Denver’s face. He merely smiled and stood up, taking out his handkerchief and wiping the saliva from his face.
“You know boy, you might wanna save that spit if you’re not gonna eat or drink anything. It's a long way to prison and the Mojave sun is awfully unkind. Your friend is much more considerate of our hospitality. I just watched her finish a full breakfast with coffee. Believe me Major Addams doesn’t serve a full breakfast. Hell you’ll be lucky if you get two meals a week. But your friend you see, she’s gonna keep eating right cause she’ll stay here with us.”
The prisoner held his sneer but his eyes widened ever so slightly and they darted between the colonel and the ranger. Richard could tell he was looking for if Denver bluffed. The young Brotherhood member had done well on anticipating his captivity thus far. He had kept silent and remained calm when separated from his partner. But now when confronted with the fact he was to be moved to the prison while she was to stay.
"You think you're protecting your people with this silence and this resistance but you're not. You're doing it for you because you're a coward. Your friend, see she's taking our food and drinking our drink because she knows she has to stay strong. Every minute longer that she is alive is more time she has to get back to her people. She has enough faith in herself to be willing to accept what we offer and not give in. You? You know the second you take anything we offer that you will crumble. Go ahead and shave him, Richard, we’ll send him out tomorrow.”
Richard nodded and got up, taking a pair of electric shears from the maintenance shelf. He walked around to the rear of the prisoner and placed his hand on his shoulder, then head and began shaving him. Richard had learned it was not uncommon for those Brotherhood members on extended missions to hide wires among their hair. Thus if they were ever deprived of their gear or taken prisoner they could do anything from pick locks to start fires and strangle someone. The shears caught on a small copper wire, Richard yanked it from the man’s head. He groaned and blood flowed freely from the small wound. Richard continued to shave his head till it was smooth and fuzzy. He then gave it a small pat and dusted it off with a rag. The colonel had merely watched the man to ensure he didn’t try anything. When the cutting was done he stood and said his goodbyes to the prisoner and Richard. The young man’s gaze had been locked on the colonel and when the man left the room his eyes drifted back towards the floor. Richard resumed his seat and started drinking his coffee, he again offered the other one to the prisoner. He refused.
“Suit yourself. But the colonel is right, this may be your last time to drink or eat for a while.”
The man didn’t lift his gaze from the floor, but after a moment he shrugged. Richard smiled, and finished his coffee. He stayed there for another hour but then he rose, said goodbye to the young man and left.