The old Commonwealth road wound between cracked asphalt and overgrown shrubs, the sunlight bleeding gold across the broken landscape. A refurbished Minutemen utility truck rumbled along the route from hangman alley, with Team 404 riding on the rear rig, rifles resting against shoulder straps, while Sarah, Curie, and MacCready rode in the front cab.
Inside, the hum of the engine was broken only by the soft clicks of radio static and Curie's amazed murmurs as she gazed through the passenger window, her newly human hands pressed against the warm glass.
Curie (whispering):"Mon dieu… the warmth of the glass, the scent of oxidized metal… I never imagined the world would feel so… textured."
MacCready glanced back from the driver's seat with a sideways smile."You keep talking like that, I'll start charging admission for poetic commentary."
Sarah (grinning):"Well it better not. The Institute might sue you for stealing their miracle or so called interllecture property."
Curie:"I feel no miracles. Only the burden of learning anew. Even breathing... is work." She touched her chest, marveling at the gentle rise and fall. "But this burden is marvelous."
They passed a ridge overlooking the Lexingtonruins—Curie flinched slightly at the sudden bark of gunfire in the far distance. Her hand instinctively reached for a nonexistent sidearm.
Sarah:"Reflexes will come. Right now, just learn to feel. The Wasteland doesn't wait for anyone, but we'll give you time."
Starlight Drive-In – Perimeter Checkpoint
The Minutemen guards at the gate raised their rifles in greeting as the truck pulled in. The settlement bustled — technicians rewiring solar panels, settlers moving supplies between makeshift greenhouses and reinforced barracks. Two brahmin pulled a broken-down caravan cart off to one side while young Minutemen recruits trained near the old screen tower under the watchful eye of a Bravo team sergeant.
UMP9 leapt off the truck bed the moment it halted, stretching with a loud sigh.
UMP9:"Finally! My charging port was starting to feel like a heat coil!"
UMP45:"Maybe next time, don't bring five extra mags of snacks you can't even eat."
HK416 (checking perimeter):"Area secure. Commanders, you're clear."
Curie stepped down slowly, every movement calculated, hesitant. She stumbled slightly and caught herself on a nearby handrail. A nearby settler offered a hand — she blinked at it, smiled warmly, and politely accepted.
Curie (softly):"I must... learn to walk as if I did not already know how. Fascinating."
Command Tent – Briefing Table
Inside the reinforced command tent, maps and reports covered the central table. Sarah stood at the head, Curie beside her now changed into a lightweight medic field coat with a Minutemen insignia patch freshly stitched to the sleeve.
Sarah:"Welcome to the next phase. Taffington Boathouse is overrun with bloodbugs. Covenant might be compromised—intel's still murky. We'll need to pacify and secure both before pushing east."
MacCready, now fully geared up again, nodded."Ready to scout ahead. Been itching to stretch these legs for something other than bar fights."
Curie (lifting a datapad):"I shall begin analyzing field sanitation and supply medical stock. I may not have decades of instinct, but I do have centuries of recorded surgical technique."
Sarah (smiling):"That's all we need. You're not here to be a soldier, Curie. You're here to be a medical hope."
The sky burned amber as General Nate stepped away from the training grounds, sweat still glistening on his brow. The sound of wooden rifle stocks clacking from a squad of Minutemen recruits faded behind him. Preston met him near the logistics table, face lit with relief.
Preston:"Sir. Commander Sarah just got back — she's in the planning bay. Thought you'd want to be the first to know."
Nate:"Good. We're overdue for an update."
Inside the command tent, Sarah stood over the holomap, Curie beside her reviewing field medical notes, and UMP45 lounging with her feet up — until she saw Nate enter.
Nate (nodding):"Commander. Welcome back. Just finished the day's drills. Recruits are eager… but green. We're gonna need every able hand soon."
Sarah (returning the nod):"Every hand, and every bullet. Goodneighbor's stable for now. But expansion's hitting a wall — literally."
She pointed at the southbound route from Hangman's Alley to the Castle, marked in red.
Sarah:"This corridor is a death trap. Raider camps strung all the way along the Charles. Elevated fire zones, debris choke points — perfect for ambushes."
Nate (frowning):"I've been thinking the same. That route's too exposed. What about using the vertibird network? Keep the lanes in the sky?"
Preston (interjecting):"We could. At least for emergency runs."
Sarah (shaking her head):"Short-term, sure. But long-term? Unsustainable. While Super Mutants still hold Trinity Tower. We've seen what they do with a missile launcher and a good view."
UMP45 (grumbling):"Can confirm. That one bastard nearly took our tail off last month."
Nate:"Then what about the old underground? Subway, storm drains? Even if it's slow, it avoids open ground."
Sarah (crossing her arms):"We've scouted them. Half the tunnels are collapsed, flooded, or infested. Clearing them would take months — and cost us more than they're worth."
A long silence.
Nate's gaze drifted south. His finger tapped a minor node on the map: Jamaica Plain.A faded settlement name, nearly forgotten.
Nate (thoughtful):"What about here? Jamaica Plain. Bypasses the worst raider clusters, sits close enough to the coast to hook around toward the Castle. If we clean it up, we can route supply lines through it."
Preston (eyes widening):"That… could work. I've had eyes on that place for a while. Ghoul-infested, sure, but not fortified. Some of the locals still talk about preserving the old 'treasure' in the Town Hall — they treat it like a pre-War museum. Could be something worth salvaging… culturally and strategically."
Sarah (nodding slowly):"It's a forgotten town with forgotten roads. Might be exactly what we need."
Nate (resolute):"Then we make it the next objective. Clear it, fortify it, and bring it into the Minutemen fold. If the Castle's going to stand again… Jamaica Plain will be the key to unlocking it."
UMP45 (slinging her SMG):"Heh. Treasure or not, I call dibs on the mayor office'
The first light of day cut across the cracked tarmac, glinting off steel and faded olive drab. Two utility trucks idled near the gate, their freshly welded armor plates still showing scorch marks from yesterday's torch work. Minutemen recruits gathered around them in awe — the trucks had been dead husks just a week ago.
Now, under the guidance of Z11's engineering precision and Mayling's quiet genius, they purred like factory-fresh machines. Every hinge, axle, and drive shaft had been tuned to perfection, and the mounted pintle guns were polished enough to catch the sunrise.
At the head of the formation sat the Humvee Ghost Mule, matte black and bristling with recon gear. M4A1 gripped the wheel, visor down, with the AR Team riding shotgun — ST AR-15 scanning rooftops through her scope, SOPMOD II grinning like it was her birthday, and M16A1 smoking calmly, eyes on the horizon.
Behind them, the two utility trucks formed the convoy's core, loaded with supplies, medical kits, and barricade materials. General Nate and Preston rode in the second vehicle, leading Charlie and Delta squads — the boots that would hold Jamaica Plain once it was taken.
High above, the low thrum of rotor blades swept the convoy's path. Commander Sarah sat in the cockpit of her Vertibird, headset snug against her hair, Team 404 arrayed behind her in the troop bay.
UMP45 (leaning over Sarah's seat):"Convoy's tight, spacing looks good. Shame about the speed — those trucks top out at what, forty?"
UMP9 (smirking):"Plenty fast when you're the one riding shotgun with the big gun."
HK416 (checking her rifle):"Plenty slow when we're the ones providing air cover. Any slower and we'll start attracting target practice from any factions."
Sarah glanced down at the map display, voice steady over the comm net.
Sarah:"Ground teams, this is Command-Actual. Keep formation tight, no heroic moves. Ghost Mule, you have point after the east bypass from diamond city — then Charlie team splits off to secure the south approach. Delta, you're with Nate on main street."
M4A1's voice crackled back:"Copy, Command. Ghost Mule moving."
The Humvee surged forward, tires crunching over debris as the rest of the convoy rolled into motion. Minutemen rifles jutted out from the truck bed rails, eyes scanning for movement. The air smelled of dust and diesel.
From above, Sarah could see the route ahead — the skeletal remains of suburbs leading toward Jamaica Plain's outskirts. Her eyes lingered on the crumbling water tower in the distance, its shadow stretching over the road. Somewhere beneath that tower where the ghouls awaited.
The Humvee Ghost Mule nosed past the cracked welcome sign, its heavy tires grinding over glass and rubble. From above, Sarah's Vertibird circled low, Team 404 pressed to the troop bay's open doors, weapons sweeping the streets below.
Sarah (over comm):"Ghost Mule, eyes front — two contacts, southwest alley. Marks are moving slow, look like regular ferals."
HK416 leaned out, her rifle barking twice. The targets crumpled in clouds of dust. The rest of the convoy pushed forward.
Minutemen moved building to building, clearing side streets with steady bursts of fire. By the time Charlie and Delta squads reached the mayor's building, resistance was light — just a handful of ghouls dragging themselves out of storefront shadows. The last one went down to a clean headshot from ST AR-15.
Then the roar came.
It wasn't the hungry moan of a normal ghoul. It was deeper, guttural, and coming from the tree line beyond the eastern road.
M4A1 (tight voice over comm):"Command, we've got massive movement east. A Big Fucking mass."
Sarah banked the Vertibird, and as her stomach dropped. From her vantage point, the road writhed — not with human ferals, but with something worse. Their frames were skeletal, their skin sloughing off in gray sheets… and here and there, a glint of metal beneath the decay.
UMP9's eyes widened:"Those aren't just ghouls. I notice that frame… Concord tunnels. Decayed synths."
The first wave slammed into the Minutemen's forward skirmish line before anyone could adjust. Two riflemen went down screaming, dragged into the swarm.
Dragged Minuteman scream as they get tear up puppet by ghouls: "Noooo... aaaaaah"
Sargeant Ramize: "Dammit! they got Anderson and Michael, Delta team get away from that freaks!!"
Nate (bellowing):"Fall back to the mayor's Town Hall! Drop everything that slows you down — MOVE!"
The Minutemen abandoned the supply trucks in seconds, sprinting up the town hall steps under covering fire from rooftop riflemen. Charlie squad held the doors long enough for Delta to drag the wounded inside.
Outside, the AR Team roared the Ghost Mule's engine to life. M4A1 swung the wheel hard, skidding the Humvee into a wide loop down the main drag, SOPMOD II laughing manically as she let the roof-mounted gun rip into the pursuing synth-ghouls. The Humvee's movement drew a thick portion of the swarm away, but not all.
SOPMOD II one handed load her M203 grenade launcher then fire at group of ghouls then continue fire mounted 50.cal MG: "Scream Louder..ghouls. Let your voices cry out even louder! Ahahahaha!"
On the town hall steps, Preston threw open a weapons crate and hauled out the M2 flamethrower.
Preston (to Delta):"Form a two-man rotation — one sprays, one reloads! Keep them off from the Main door!"
The nozzle hissed, then roared — a cone of liquid fire washed over the front steps, igniting dozens of synth-ghouls and forcing the swarm to split. Screams and the crackle of burning flesh filled the square.
Overhead, Sarah adjusted the Vertibird's angle for a strafing run.
Sarah (into headset):"404, light 'em up — suppress their flank so Nate can reinforce the west entrance!"
UMP45 braced the minigun mount, HK416 and UMP9 providing precision fire. Shell casings rained into the street like brass hail as the horde shrieked and staggered under the aerial assault.
Still, more were coming. The mayor's building shook under the weight of their pounding.
The mayor's building groaned under the pounding at its boarded windows and barricaded doors. Inside, Nate and Preston shouted orders over the din, Minutemen hammering more nails into splintering wood while the M2 flamethrower crew swapped tanks. Every crash against the barricades rattled the men's nerves.
Above the chaos, the Vertibird circled the square, its rotors kicking up dust and ash.
Sarah (into comms):"Team 404, keep orbiting. Look for anything—anything—that could be pulling them in. Something's not right here."
HK416 leaned against the minigun mount, scanning the rooftops and alleys below. UMP9 swept her smg scope across the streets, while G11 kept her gaze locked on the writhing tide pressing toward the building.
The sudden thud on the cockpit glass made everyone jump.
A half-mangled synth-ghoul was plastered against the windshield, its jaw hanging at an impossible angle. The pilot UMP45 swore as the creature gave a drawn-out, wet screech before sliding down the glass and tumbling away.
UMP45 (deadpan):"...Ugh....Since when do we have flying ghouls?"
Before Sarah could answer, a shadow streaked past the port side, another ghoul whipping by in a spinning arc before vanishing into the street below.
UMP9 (frowning):"What the.....They're… being thrown?"
The Vertibird banked hard toward the origin of the aerial corpses — and that's when they saw it.
A hulking shape loomed at the far end of Main Street, towering above even the tallest ruined buildings. It wasn't just a super mutant; it was a grotesque behemoth, its skin split in places by sickly, pulsating tumors. One massive arm was nothing but a knot of muscle and tumor growth, the other clutching a rusted metal beam like a club.
And it wasn't alone — a pack of super mutants advanced alongside it, firing wildly into both the synth-ghoul horde and the Minutemen's barricades. The two forces clashed in a chaotic frenzy, neither caring about their own safety.
Sarah (gritting her teeth):"Oh, great. As we didn't already have enough problems already…"
From the cockpit, the HK416's voice came tight and urgent."Commander — if that thing gets within twenty meters of the building, those barricades won't mean a damn thing."
The streets below churned like a living tide — synth-ghouls swarming from every alley, super mutants firing indiscriminately, and in the center of it all, the tumor-behemoth, smashing through cars like they were soda cans.
Sarah's eyes darted over the chaos, mind racing. She toggled her comms to Nate inside the mayor's building.
Sarah:"General, listen up — we're not fighting one enemy anymore. We've got three way battle. Let's make them fight each other."
Nate (shouting over gunfire):"I ready open for suggestions!"
Sarah traced a path with her finger across the street grid on her wrist map."Pull your barricade at the east entrance. Leave a gap just wide enough for a ghoul rush. When they pour in, slam it shut behind them. Mutants will follow. Once they're inside, you seal the kill box and let them chew each other up."
Preston (over comms):"And if they decide to chew us up instead?"
Sarah:"Then we hit them with enough fire to make them regret it."
She switched to Team 404's channel."Alright, dolls — behemoth first priority. If that thing reaches the building, nothing inside's walking out alive. We cripple it, now."
HK416:"Finally, a worthy target."
UMP9:"Just remember, tumors go pop. Stand too close, you'll regret it."
UMP45:"Relax, I'll make sure we're at a safe distance… ish."
G11 (yawning, already shouldering her rifle):"Wake me up when it's dead… actually, nah, I'll just shoot it from here."
The Vertibird banked low, rotor wash scattering papers and ash as 416 leaned into the minigun, stitching a stream of tracers across the behemoth's chest. The thing bellowed, raising its club, but a burst from UMP9's smg caught a tumor cluster in its side — it burst in a spray of foul ichor, making the giant stagger.
G11 lazily squeezed off a shot, the 4.73×33mm round punching clean through the creature's shoulder."Center of mass, boring… okay, fine, I'll take the ugly glowing one next," she muttered, chambering another round.
On the ground, AR Team's Humvee tore through an intersection, horn blaring, dragging a chain of ghouls right into a mutant firing line. Gunfire and feral screams blended into a single, deafening roar.
From her seat, Sarah spotted an opening."416, UMPs, G11 — left knee joint, now! Take it out!"
A coordinated volley ripped into the creature's leg. With a sickening crack, the behemoth dropped to one knee, swinging wildly. Its club caught a pack of synth-ghouls mid-leap, sending them cartwheeling into the mutants' ranks.
Sarah (into comms, grinning despite herself):"That's it. Let them tear each other apart."
The tumor-behemoth roared, shrugging off another burst of minigun fire as it bulldozed through a pile of wrecked cars. The mayor's building loomed just ahead, its barricaded doors buckling under the weight of the siege outside.
Sarah leaned forward in her seat, eyes locked on the monster."Damn it, it's still moving! Bring us around — low and fast!"
The Vertibird's ump45 yanked the stick, banking into a tight turn. The rotors kicked up clouds of dust and debris as Team 404 braced themselves.
UMP45:"Close enough we can smell it, Commander?"
Sarah:"If that's what it takes."
G11 slouched in her harness, chewing idly on an old gum stick she'd scavenged earlier. She adjusted her scope like she was trying to get comfortable in bed."…I could've hit it from way back there."
HK416:"Then why didn't you?"
G11:"Because then it wouldn't be fun."
The Vertibird dropped into street level, weaving between half-collapsed buildings. The behemoth's bulk filled the windscreen now, its tumors pulsing like rotten fruit.
Sarah:"G11, This is it, Take the shot and Make it count."
She sighed dramatically, chambering a round."Fine… but I'm getting a Nuka cola after this."
She took a deep breath, the city noise fading in her mind. The crosshairs settled on a throbbing tumor just below the behemoth's jaw — glowing faintly, like a weak spot begging to be hit.
BANG!
The shot cracked through the Vertibird's roar. A split-second later, the tumor erupted in a spray of gore and phosphorescent mist. The behemoth stumbled mid-charge, claws clutching at its own neck before collapsing with a ground-shaking thud.
The mutant lines broke instantly, half-fleeing, half-turning on the remaining synth-ghouls. The siege's momentum shattered.
Sarah exhaled, switching off her headset. She turned to G11 with a wry smirk."You've got your soda, sharpshooter."
G11 (perking up for the first time all day):"Ooooo…Make it two. And cold."
UMP9:"She moves faster for soda than combat orders."
UMP45:"That's because soda doesn't shoot back."
Sarah just shook her head, signaling the ump45 to pull up as the battle below descended into chaos — exactly as planned.
The sun was already dipping low, casting long shadows across the cracked streets. Fires from the battle still smoldered in the distance, sending the smell of burnt flesh and cordite into the air. The Minutemen were busy dragging barricades aside, tending to the wounded, and salvaging what gear they could from the abandoned trucks.
On the steps of the mayor's building, G11 sat cross-legged, a half-empty soda bottle resting against her knee. She tilted it back lazily, letting the last drops fizz onto her tongue. A second unopened bottle lay beside her like a prize she wasn't willing to share.
UMP9 walked past, shaking her head."You still haven't moved from that spot?"
G11 shrugged, leaning back on her hands."Already did my part. Killed the big ugly thing. Now I'm on break."
Sarah, standing nearby with her datapad, glanced over but didn't comment. She was coordinating repair assignments with Preston and Nate, both equally exhausted but still moving like the job wasn't done yet.
Meanwhile, a small group of curious Minutemen, led by a young recruit named Ellis, had decided to poke around the mayor's building basement. The rumor of the town's "great treasure" had been floating around since before the war — and even now, a little myth-chasing was good for morale.
Their voices echoed faintly up the stairwell as they bypassed an ancient security door. Sparks hissed when Ellis' kit finally cut through the locking mechanism. Inside, they were met with a faint blue glow — an old trip-laser system still humming after two centuries. Carefully, they worked around it, manually disabling each emitter.
When they finally stepped into the vault room, their faces fell.
No mountains of gold.No crates of pre-war weapons.
Just dusty glass cases filled with baseball memorabilia, weathered municipal seals, and yellowing local news articles — mementos of a town that once believed its history was its treasure.
In the far corner, a pile of skeletal remains told a quieter, darker story. Rusted tools and cracked crowbars still lay beside them, as if they'd been prying open cases when something… or someone… stopped them. A few were sprawled like they'd fought each other. Others bore claw marks, their bones gnawed and splintered.
One of the Minutemen whispered, "Guess the ghouls got 'em before they could take anything."
When they emerged back into the daylight, their mood was noticeably more subdued.
Sarah looked up from her datapad as they passed."Find anything worth hauling back?"
Ellis just shook his head."Just history, Commander. And a reminder that some things aren't worth dying for."
Nate stood over the map table, his eyes narrowing as Preston finished reporting on the secured perimeter. "Those super mutants that came crashing in from the north… they weren't with the ghouls. Just rampaging — no direction, no target but everything."
Sarah folded her arms. "Mutants don't need orders. If it breathes, they break it. If it doesn't breathe, they break it anyway."
The radio crackled with static before M4A1's voice came through:"AR Team to Command. Big John's Salvage is clear — no live hostiles. Looks like a big fight went down here, though. South of the yard, the military checkpoint's active… and fully occupied by Brotherhood forces. They've set up patrols and heavy weapons. Over."
Nate's jaw tightened. "South Boston Military Checkpoint… that's on one of the cleanest supply lines to the Castle."
Sarah let out a sharp breath. "Figures. Maxson's boys swat at a mutant nest, scatter them south into us, then park their boots right on our supply artery. Perfect."
Nate's finger traced the map toward the Castle. "This route's choked now. If we can't negotiate or reroute, it's going to cost us time we don't have."
In the background, G11 slouched against a crate, sipping her soda with zero urgency. "Guess that means more waiting. I'm good at that."
Sarah ignored the remark, her gaze locked on Nate. "We'll decide whether to deal with the Brotherhood or find a way around. Either way — the Castle's not getting any easier to reach."
The Brotherhood checkpoint loomed ahead — sandbag walls, guard towers, and the steady thrum of a generator powering spotlights and a pair of mounted heavy laser turrets. The black-and-gold BOS banners swayed lazily in the breeze.
Nate adjusted his Minutemen coat, Charlie Team fanning out behind him in loose formation. "Remember — we're not here to posture, we're here to talk. Eyes up, weapons down."
A quiet click came through his earbud — M4A1's voice from the AR Team's overwatch position on a nearby rooftop."AR Team in position. Targets painted. Just give the word if things go bad, General."
"Let's hope it doesn't," Nate replied, eyes forward.
From a safe distance back in Jamaica Plain, Sarah stood over the holotable in the Starlight relay tent, her voice crackling over Nate's comms."Convoy status green. I'm rerouting Starlight and Oberland supplies toward Jamaica Plain to prep a forward staging area. The sooner we get safe passage, the faster we can push south to the Castle."
Nate's boots crunched gravel as he stepped into the open, raising one hand in a calm, measured wave toward the Brotherhood guards. "General Nate of the Commonwealth Minutemen," he called out. "I'm here to talk about safe passage. We've got a common goal — keeping the Commonwealth safe."
The gate sergeant exchanged a wary glance with his partner before signaling for it to open. The heavy steel doors clanged apart, revealing a cluster of armored soldiers inside.