"So how about a drink when we get to Diamond City? Oh wait, I forgot we didn't get paid." Mel said, happy in the moment, sad in the next.

"<No worries, you're looking at the new proud owner of the Colonial Taphouse.>" Meathead said, cradling his X-01 helmet under his arm as they walked the remaining blocks to Diamond City.

"Huh? How'd you get Henry to sell? I didn't think that was even on his mind."

"<He's dead. Died ripping off drug dealers trying to smuggle chems into Diamond City.>"

"Oh, so you know about that too? Speaking of which-"

"<Nope, sober as a bird.>"

"Damn. Well, I'll still take that beer though."

"<What's the story with this power armor? The X-01? How could you tell it was this model?>"

"I know cause I worked with a lot of power armor over the years, I spend my freetime disassembling and rebuilding robots and their plating, welding, programming, diving in and out of factories and warehouses that have good scrap, but the X-01 was the very last models of power armor developed before the Great War. They were rolling through assembly line production, shipping models across the country when the bombs fell, but that didn't stop the survivors from cranking them out until all the parts were gone. If I knew where they were assembled, we wouldn't be having this conversation, but what I do know is that the Army had a lot to do with using them after the bombs fell and they were top of the line model. The T-45 Iron Maidens were already strong enough to tank repeated RPG fire and three to seven anti-tank rounds before the suit is completely inoperable, depending on if it strikes a critical point. The X01s, after the T-51s, and the T-60s, were rated to withstand 35 anti-tank rounds before compromising the integrity of the suit.

"<So this is some fancy stuff I'm wearing?>"

"You got it. Now, I did hear about an X-02. Enclave shit. The part of the army that was still the army after the war that was cranking out the X-01s made a design after that, but as far as I know, I've never seen them, and only heard about it from traders who come up from down south, New York, and D.C."

"<What's the Enclave?>"

"The Enclave? They were all the generals and higher ups that knew the world was going to turn out like this, so they hid, built themselves up, and...and I don't know too much about them. What everyone mostly knows is that the Brotherhood of Steel and the Enclave went toe-to-toe down in D.C. ten years ago. Big fight for what it's worth. The version I was told was that the Enclave tried to do something to the water. Or, fighting over a water purifier or something, but they were trying to put something in the water that would kill off everything mutated. First instinct is 'Oh, that's good, right? Kill all the super mutants?' Half-true, everything above ground is mutated. I know enough to know, that over the 200 plus years since the bombs fell all that fallout's been getting in everyone's systems, and the radiation's been playing with human DNA like a cat with a ball of yarn. So whatever they were trying to do, they got stopped. Enclave got ran out of town, and we've been singing Khum-bay-ya ever since."

Thunderstruck landed by them, as they were only a few blocks from the Home Plate entrance to Diamond City. "<Your choice. Up and over, or through the front door.>"

Seeing the lights of Diamond City, and the D.C. Guards patrolling outside, Thunderstruck shook her head and flew to the top of the stadium, hidden behind the flood lights, and waiting for Meathead and Mel to make an appearance.

"Shy gal. How'd you get her to follow you?"

"<I talked with her, she's looking for her friends, there's not much to go on except old information she knows, but she feels safe. Not many people get to feel that way now days. They've all been through hell, and most of the people in Diamond City would eat her the moment their stomach growls.>"

"Isnt that why you're keeping her though? For food? Just in case you run out?"

"<No! Dumbass! You do realize that she's a pegasus? She can manipulate the DAMNED WEATHER, MEL! No more acid rain! No more radiation storms! Clear skies and sunshine over your little slice of heaven all day every day 24 Goddamned hours of the day, seven DAYS OF THE WEEK, anytime you want it! Rain, snow, hail, I can get weather for crops, and have perfect growing seasons. If you fucking lay a finger on her I will end you faster than a Deathclaw chasing after a cripple wrapped in sausages. So, you either rethink really, really hard about ponies, and say your next words mindfully of the situation you find yourself in.>"

Shocked and confused about Nate's sudden outburst of rage, Mel hazily replied, "So...we'll keep her as a pack animal then?"

Meathead raised his hand, and Mel winced, but he patted him on the shoulder. "<Progress. See? That moment where you thought I was going to beat the shit out of you? That's what she feels every second she's around humans she doesn't trust. Now you know for a brief moment, how she feels.>"

"Got it."

\111/

Knocking twice on Publick Occurences, it was late, but Meathead knew Piper was still up. "Come in." Came a response.

"<Piper?>"

She asked, "Is that you? Nate? Or..." Wearing her red coat over her blue vault suit underneath, she pulled away from her desk and stood up to face the door.

"<Doesn't matter. But no, just call me Nate. It's time I bought you a drink.>"

"Oh? But I'm kinda almost finished writing up those articles."

"<Piper, let me rephrase that. I got something to show you at the Colonial Taphouse.>"

"<I think they're closed. I heard Henry died and then Paul stepped up with a whole bunch of caps to buy the place.>"

"<Piper? Newsflash, those caps Paul used were mine. I own the bar. Meet me up there when you're done.>"

\111/

"<Nick? You got a sec?>" The synth detective was always awake, he had heard footsteps outside of his home, walking along the third base line drive before Meathead knocked on his door.

"What's the word?"

"Meet me up at the Taphouse in ten. There's someone I want you to meet.

\111/

Getting the keys from Paul Pembroke, the new bartender didn't ask questions, which for tonight, that was all was needed. Meathead unlocked the bar, and held the door open as Thunderstruck dove from up on high, and flew straight through the door in a flash. Mel was about to follow Meathead in until he said to grab a seat on the balcony and wait for Piper and Nick.

"<Christ.>" Meathead said, looking around the bar, it was still as dirty as Henry left it. "<Time to work my magic.>" Cracking all ten knuckles, and popping the joints in his neck, Meathead inhaled and shook his hands out.

It started from the ceiling, and ended at the floor. From the ceiling panels, it looked like dampness was spreading across them, growing more opaque until droplets of moisture started to form. The panels themselves were actually getting cleaner as Meathead pulled yellowed tobacco tar stained into the ceiling, condensing it all with his magic and discarding it in the trash. He repeated it with the walls, the furniture, and gathering all the dirt tracked in on the floor, with little effort, the floors were clean but the ground was still warped and cracked.

Back to his changeling form, Meathead rubbed his hooves together and resin poured from his pores. Seeping into the cracks, he re-surfaced the floor, using his magic to change the color of it, but ultimately smoothing everything flat. All the insects, cockroaches, and fruit flies in the air were killed in an instant. Gathered in a ball of magic, which to see them coming from all corners of the room to the center like they were drawn to a magnet was creepy for Thunderstruck to observe, but they were tossed as well. All the dishes and glasses, Meathead went a step above cleaning them, he used his magic to separate any scum or water marks from the glass, making them shine like brand new. The refrigerators and cabinets were scoured out with a blast of hot heat magic that burned away any mold spores, and lines cleared.

From the time it took Piper to finish making adjustments to her articles for the evening, then walk up to the Colonial Taphouse, all of seven minutes passed.

Knocking on the door and pushing it open, she froze, suddenly feeling like she was walking into a alien world.

"Uhhh....Did a little spring cleaning?" Piper asked, eyes-wide open in amazement at the transformation.

"Hey, boss, can I come in yet?"

"<Yes. You may both come in.>"

Mel whistled at the cleanliness of the bar, "Woo-wee. How'd you get this place whipped into shape so fast? Last time I was here-"

"You got arrested for trying to steal booze. I used magic and the power of friendship. Now let's get down to business."

"Alright, Mr. Sarcastic."

"So, Nate? Is this what you wanted to show me? Love what you've done with the place." Sniffing the air, it wasn't offensive in the slightest. Meathead drew out a few drinks, even offering one to Thunderstruck, but she looked at the bottle, unsure if she should partake. It seemed so long that she got to enjoy herself in the slightest, that she didn't want something bad to suddenly happen and ruin the moment.

It was then, Nick Valentine knocked and opened the door. His eyes roamed the interior, but he couldn't believe the radical change the inside underwent. "You got some magic gremlins running around I don't know about?" Nick joked.

"<Not quite, Nick. But close. Nick, Piper, I'd like you to meet Thunderstruck. Piper's a reporter here in Diamond City and hears quite a bit about what's going on around here. Nick is a detective who helped me track down the man who took my son.>"

"I've met your kind before, nice to meet a pegasus again." Piper said,

"When was the last time that happened?" Thunderstruck asked.

"Too long, I'm afraid. There were a few ponies who came through up until the takeover at Nuka-World, but since then they dropped off the map for the most part."

"Thunder, well now, aren't you a pretty little thing. You look like you're fresh out of the box." Nick said, "So Nate, am I to believe that you called me up here to help Thunder here track down her friends?"

"<Only if you're interested. They were enslaved and sold, Opressor Libris needs to happen.>"

"Anyway, while you two were out, I did some digging. There's more ponies than I realized, or really, bothered to count, but I have locations for ten of them, all around Boston, and then a few leads on merchants who use pony-trains to carry their gear. Once a month, a trader from Nuka-World comes, his name is Wex, but he's got two ponies and a brahmin for pack animals, and three guards with him. The D.C. Guards make a note of everyone who passes through the gate. I'll keep asking for more, but these are the ones we know of."

"Where's some of the Ten?" Thunderstruck asked.

"Four of them were seen at Easy-City Downs. Gunners bought three and are either at University Point, or GNR plaza, so put a pin in those for now, two are up in Salem, while one managed to make it's way out to Nahant Island."

"<How'd you come up with those places?>"

"I talk to the caravans nearly every day, asking what's the word around the Commonwealth. If I ask them if they've seen any ponies around, they say where they've seen them."

"<Who does trading, or which merchant dealt with the Gunners?>"

"That would be one of Hancock's men, a ghoul by the name of Derrick. He was a Gunner until he got the ghoulies. Got sick, dropped out, survived the change, came out on top. However, I hear he pays some seriously steep prices for not getting shot at, but he's one of the most well armed caravans in the Commonwealth for a reason."

"<Whatever the price, there's still some amount of worth he's making from it. That being said, I'm just about ready to face the Glowing Sea.>"

"What's in the Glowing Sea?" Mel asked.

"<Information that I'm willing to risk my life for. I've got the power armor. Hopefully by tomorrow, we'll have a lead on a radiation suit, after that, supplies will only take a day to gather, and then I'd be off.>"

"Well, Good luck to you then, Nate. What've you got planned for the rest of the night?" Nick asked.

"<Tell Mel to find a place to sleep, then it'll just be Thunderstruck and me.>"

"Are you planning on sleeping here?" Piper asked.

"Am I getting the boot?" Mel followed up with another question.

"<Yes and Yes. After you finish your beer, but don't forget about talking to Hancock either.>"

"So where's...?" Piper trailed off, referring to Nate.

"<Bunker Hill. In the morning we'll stop by the Constitution.> "

"Thanks for the beer," Piper said, taking a sip.

"<Piper, one more thing. I want to urge you to not publish the Crow article yet.>"

"What! But people need to know about this! People are being spied on 24 hours of the day!"

"Crow article?" Nick asked, Mel and Thunderstruck both mirrored Nick's confusion. "What crow?"

"We found out the Institute's been spying on us using birds. Bird Synths. Robots. Drones, whatever. They're all over Diamond City and flock in the hundreds on all the wires and perches all over the place here. We found one while Nate here was shooting at some birds, when he went to go check them out, he cut one open and found camera lens behind the eyes, and a transponder in the chest cavity."

"Piper..." Nick said, "That's incredible the Institute knows no bounds of making everyone's lives even more terrible. Watching us every second of the day. Crimony, those buzzards don't look when they're rad-ded out, and come to think of it, they've been looking a little phoney or sickly as of late! People need to know they're being spied on."

"<Piper, Nick, I can't agree more, but this is the only advantage we have over the Institute right now. Piper, the moment you print that article, one of two things are going to happen. One: everyone and their mother is going to aim up at the sky and start gunning down birds left and right. Two: The institute is going to scrap whatever birds they've got left, remodel them, and then the next thing we know, it's going to be seagulls, or finches, or hawks, or eagles that just stay aloft all day, far out of range. Three: just because we stop the birds, doesn't mean the Institute will stop spying on us, they're just going to find a different way, either through dogs, cats, brahmin, rats, cockroaches, anything that wont arouse suspicion, but can slip in and out of view. They could even try flipping a switch to see if they can get a live feed through Nick's eyes and ears, listen in to all our conversations without him or us even knowing it. Then number four: humans driven to paranoia start killing off livestock and other animals, Thunderstruck here barely has any rights as it is, and saying she's not a synth won't help her any more than the last person who was gunned down in the marketplace for saying the exact same thing, claiming it's for the greater good, citing your articles as the reason why."

"I resent that, but it's true. Closest to wrapping my head in a lead scarf, I see Nate's reasoning here, Piper. The Institute wont stop, but at least this way, we can work in the blindspots."

"Shit!" Piper said, furious at the Institute and angry that she couldn't have this one win under her belt.

"Can I see this Crow?" Mel asked, "I'm curious."

"<Later. Piper, show Mel the Crow when we're done, he's a whiz with robots and could find something useful by studying it."

Thunderstruck tried to remember the last time she had anything alcoholic, and couldn't even pull up an image. She knew she'd tried something in the past, but everything felt locked away. Taking a sip, she shuddered.

"<Thunder, do you want to tell Piper and Nick how you rescued one of your friends this morning?>" Meathead asked, guiding the question to her.

"I'd like to hear." Piper said, "I gotta...come up with more stuff to put out now."

Thunderstruck felt the attention on her, and she swallowed. "It was before the sun was even up. I'd been trying to get to a place on the coast where a friend of mine told me they knew where ponies ended up at. He described it as a ship graveyard, a massive ship sticking halfway out of the water North of the Boston Airport, with all these smaller boats clustered around it, and the dock."

"That's Libertalia," Piper said, "Big raider base. Sorry, keep going."

"When I got there, I only rescued one. They were already- hei- " She exhaled rapidly, dipping her head and seeing past the images in her head. "They were gr...they were coo...There was a pony over the fire," She cried, Meathead placed a hand
behind the base of her skull, easing away the toxic emotions so she could get through the story without stopping.

"And another one they just shot to death because he tried to escape, but they were only using them as food! They set aside three ponies for food, and three for being their damn pack animals!" She stomped her hoof on the ground, tears of hurt plainly expressed on her face. "They don't care about us! No body cares about us! You don't care about us!" She pointed an accusing hoof at Mel.

"Hey! I already got the fear of God speech, sorry that not all life is treated equally. Sucks to be you."

"<Thunder, it's something we're trying to raise awareness for, but keep going, you're almost done.>"

"I took a laser rifle and killed seven of them, pulled Cherry Fizz out of the hole she was burying herself in, and now she's out of there but she's not...right."

"Sounds like you pulled her out of the gates of Hell." Nick Valentine said, leaning in a bit closer to her. "That sounds like a lot of trauma for anyone to go through, and I can only imagine how she must feel. You said there were other ponies there too? Ones they used for work?"

"Yes."

"Well, Thunderstruck, as brave as you were for rescuing your friend, I fear your actions may inadvertently put the other ponies at risk."

"I know." Regretting she didn't do more, she may of rescued one friend, but doomed three other lives to the same fate.

"Then how about in the morning, we go stage ourselves a rescue mission, how's that sound? If one pegasus could sneak in, wipe out seven of their guys and pull a friend out of danger without raising the alarm, then with the two of us, it should be a snap." Nick asked the pegasus.

"We don't have any armor or protection to bring Thunderstruck along with me to the Glowing Sea, meaning I need to leave her here without anyone to be with. I don't know how long it'll take me to search ground zero, but while I'm there, Thunderstruck can take care of herself, and I'll hire you to help her find more ponies. Tomorrow I gotta go talk to Hancock in Goodneighbor about something Mel and me accidentally stuck our heads into, but after that, we'll go kill some raiders."

"Sounds like a plan." Nick said.

"Cheers."

\111/

That evening after arriving at Bunker Hill, Nate performed maintenance on Curie, buying tools and liquids for her from a mechant named Deb. The trees and fences around Bunker Hill had a few crows, to which Nate observed from the corner of his eye.

One of them, maybe more, were fakes.

A mooing two-headed Brahmin made Nate look towards the other pack animal of the Commonwealth, "May be." He said under his breath.

Stockton approached Nate, hearing that the vault dweller arrived. "You there, what's your name again?"

"Nate."

"Nate, could you care to explain something to me? You see, I've got the worst suspicion that you weren't the person you said you were."

"It's called a background check, this time ask me the questions you would've asked then."

"So you're not with the Railroad, and you know one of our Safehouse locations."

"That's true."

"So why did you go along with it, then? Why not back out?"

"Because I know how to work a job without asking questions. If the message of the day is to keep quiet as we take a midnight stroll, then I keep quiet and stretch my legs. It's not such an ethereal concept to follow orders exactly to the letter. I just happen to have more experience."

"So what are you after then? Money? Weapons? Robots?"

"Yes to all, but a radiation suit to start with. While I'm willing to be patient on everything else, finding a suit that hasn't been worn through or patched in places is difficult. That's why I came here. You've got to be one of the most well informed public people in all the Commonwealth next to the mayors. Between all the caravans you fund, you get direct feedback from merchants on routes to take, hot zones, villages, townships, communities, who's coming, who's going, who's buying what, and so on. What I want to know is the location of every single raider, mutant, ghoul, synth, mirelurk, and deathclaw that crosses their path, and create a map."

"A map? I can sell you a map."

"I already have a map, what I want to know is the routes and roads your caravans say raiders attack, choked off roads, or set up booby traps, which raiders out there could be strong armed into giving in to Bunker Hill, and which ones should get the axe."

"I know what you're planning, but I won't give you the routes. That's proprietary information. You want to wage war against the Commonwealth, you're a damn fool, you'll get what everyone gets when they try and take on the Commonwealth."

"How much does it cost to run a caravan to Diamond City and back?"

"Three-hundred caps, roundtrip. That's feeding the pack animals, food and water for the caravan guards and merchants, sleeping arrangements, and ammo, plus any losses incurred."

"Is that about the same for Lexington, and South Boston?"

"Aye."

"Tell your friends, that just because of a little communication error, doesn't mean our interests don't align. I'll be knocking on their front door here tomorrow evening."

"You came by here two days ago, and spoke to Kessler, saying Jared and Tower Tom are dead, then headed to Pickman's Gallery. How is it that you came from the North?" Stockton asked.

"I backtracked up towards Malden, and found the resting place of Tony Savoldi's father."

"You've been leaving quite the trail of smoke in your wake, I see."

"Where there's smoke, there's fire. You're quite observant."

Old Man Stockton gave up on the conversation, satisfied with what was said and didn't say another word, walking off without even saying goodbye. After Stockton was gone, Mayor Kessler made her way around Bunker Hill to see Nate working on Curie.

"Where'd you pick her up?" Mayor Kessler asked.

"Vault 81."

"Bonjour madam," Curie greeted her.

"Is there something I can help you with, Nate?" Feeling a sense of anticipation rise.

"Yes. Thank you. Kessler, I need to know about the raiders at Revere Beach and the mutants at the Satellite Array." Stockton moved away, but not so far that it wasn't out of sight.

"What do you need to know?"

"Who's in charge there?"

"A boss by the name of Cinder. As far as raider-relations go, their one of the less infuriating groups to deal with. They trade, they dig up clams and have seafood every few days, they keep the mutants at the array in check. They're close enough to where we have an understanding not to shoot at any caravans passing by."

"Then about the satelites, where do all these mutants keep funneling in from?"

"There's a few places, but you already know of one. It was the building you blew up in Cambridge. The second..." Looking to the skyline, the Malden Medical Center Hospital was still smoking from a distance, and would burn for another two days.

"I believe you already know that there were super mutants in Malden as well. The last place that I and all Bunker Boys know of is West Everett Estates. A suburbia overrun with Mutants. Taking the mutants out there, would open up everything North of Boston."

"I've seen it. It's on the list, but thank you for confirming it. Anywhere else?"

"Cambridge and Trinity Plaza. I've got eyes on the CIT building, if I could get a few cement posts up, and lay down some planks, I could get the bridge open and send runners all along the north side of the Charles river, all along the waterfront, take a right turn right before the college, then a left, after they cross, and they'd be right in Diamond City without needing to go around or through the North End."

"What route do traders take normally right now?"

"They skirt the north side of Cambridge, up towards Lexington, where one Caravan heads north to offer tribute to Jared, thank you for killing him by the way, or turn south and give tribute or time it so that Tower Tom's men wouldn't see them. Again, thank you. Some caravans go through the North End, usually stopping in Goodneighbor, before following the main boulevard through uptown. That's where most of the caravans run into trouble, it's a long sprint, and Brahmin don't move that fast. There was a traveling merchant pony, came through about every two weeks, but after the raiders took over Nuka-World, the only thing anything being sold by anyone over the hills was slaves and pack animals. I tried early on to convince Stockton into buying some for his caravans, since they're smart and can fend for themselves, but he didn't want to. Principal of the matter for trading with raiders that enslaved former trading partners, and risk, neither of which he was willing to compromise on."

"So there used to be a trading route between here and Nuka-World?"

"Yep. But caravans would only have to go as far as the Parking Center for Nuka-World west of Lexington."

"The parking center there?"

"They have a working monorail that goes all the way from there to the park in 10 minutes, we used to get alot more bottle caps, nuka-colas, and fruit from them, but that all changed after the gangs attacked."

"Any idea on what happened to the merchant pony? Do you remember their name?"

"Happy little pony called Cherry Bomb. Born in Nuka-World, she has, or had, I don't know anymore, a sister Cherry Fizz. And they used to travel with a woman named Anita. They'd make the effort to come to Bunker Hill every two weeks. But now? I don't think they'll ever come around here again, not by choice, but...that's the way she rolls."

"Have there been any mutant retaliations since the construction site collapse?"

"Only one, that I've heard of. They attacked a settlement in the North End, a storefront that a few people were living in. Wiped them out, but that could've been any mutant group moving through, and not just because of what you did. It stopped them from gaining a foothold in Cambridge, and this close to Bunker Hill, we all appreciate it. Already we've been able to make it as far as Monsignor plaza before running into trouble. That's three times the distance, and a hell of a lot more breathing room for the traders. Stockton might have his opinion on how to run his business, but he's a bleeding socialist dictator when it comes to picking and choosing who works, who trades, and who makes the money. He sees 100 merchants and says, it's too many, forces 20 of them to hefty contracts that end up costing them everything, and takes everything when they can't make the return on investment. Instead of allowing everyone to go where they want, he gaslights them into selling products to his merchants, but then in return offers no services like food and water for the other merchants or their animals."

"School bullies accomplish more by demanding lunch money."

"What?"

"Nothing, just a bad analogy."

"What are you planning to do now?"

"Go talk to the Railroad, I've been all over, and found some power armor, but I need a radiation suit for the Glowing Sea."

"The Glowing Sea? Why would you ever want to go there? I don't even know anyone who's gone there willingly, not even to scavenge. I mean, the lack of protection for one, but why do you need both?"

"You ever fought a deathclaw?"

"Yes. Me and ten others."

"I meant by yourself."

"No. Noooo, no, no, no." Kessler said, rejecting the idea.

"Well," Nate said, licking his lips, "Seeing as I only fought the one Deathclaw, he was peeling my suit off like a can opener. Ripped me out of the suit, and tossed me around like a rag doll. I don't know what I'll find in the Glowing Sea, but if my armor goes, then I die instantly. If I have a suit, then maybe, just maybe, if my power armor goes to shit, or even gets a small hole in it, I can get out, and run for my life. Otherwise if the frame locks up or ejects me, and I don't have a suit, it's over. I'd maybe survive two minutes exposed, and if I survived that I wouldn't be able to crawl for the next week afterwards from all the radiation poisoning. I got a shitload of Rad X, Radaway, and my lead-lined undies, so I'm rearing to go."

"They're hard to come by in good condition."

"I'm beginning to understand why."

"How's Pickman?"

"Pickman? Oh, well, we didn't get much of a chance to talk, but he's quite the character. Didn't quite expect to see all the...the ahh..." Making small circles in the air, as if he were gesturing to a spot on the wall. Nate never met Pickman, but Meathead came through here.

"The paintings and the heads? Yeah, he's not exactly welcome in Bunker Hill, but he's not banned either. I take it you wont be passing through here for a while?"

"I'll be making one more run north of here. A big run. I'm going to need a lot of people. I found a cache of supplies, and it'll give me the firepower I need to take on whatever's in the Glowing Sea. "

"Well, if you have any spare cases of 9mm or .22s in the lot, we use a lot of those for handguns and target practice around here. Shotgun shells too. But for mirelurks, we need the rifle rounds."

"You got an ammo press?"

"Yep."

"How big?"

"Big as you want. I have a grenade shell for a launcher sitting on my self for three years now that I haven't been able to use, but I had all the gunpowder and the pieces to make one at the time."

"I'll make sure to let you get first look at what I bring in, but I think you'll have to make a trip to the tower over yonder to see the whole supply, that's where I'm set up shop."

"Good to know, don't let merchants upsell you, they charge too much for their wares as it is. You staying here for the night or gonna make a break for your ship?"

"Well, I was thinking about it, but then I remembered why I went through Malden in the first place, and low-and-behold, I find the Minutemen's last stand in a middle school classroom, where Brent Savoldi met his final resting place. Tony Savoldi promised he'd build a whole room addition to his place, but maybe I'll see if I can twist his arm a little for a room tonight."

"Good luck to you then Nate, tell us what you find."

\111/

Next Chapter: Ch. 66 John Hancock November 5th Estimated time remaining: 15 Hours, 19 Minutes