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A Blessing
Aug. 10th, 2012 02:02 am"That's not going to help."
"It's not going to hurt, either."
"... I hate when you're right. But seriously, when was the last time either of us even set foot in the chapel?"
"I don't think she's going to care, Veta. It's not like she's keeping score."
"Colvin did."
"Colvin is weird."
"And she's not?"
"Not the same kind of weird. Colvin needs a nice long leave of absence away from his guns. She's just weird because. It's like having an accent."
"Fine, but it's still embarrassing. You ask her."
"Fine, I will- Paladin? Paladin, Scribe Sprunk and I-"
"Thanks, Librada."
"Scribe Sprunk and I've been going over the schematics for the factory floor's electrical wiring and we're... well, we're not really sure how to proceed safely from here. I know you're not from the technical side of the aisle, but we were wondering if you could help us anyway."
"Oh! Um. Sure, I guess- although you two probably know a lot more about everything you're seeing than I do-"
"Not that kind of help, Paladin. A project this important really ought to have a blessing, and I don't just mean in the sense of an official okay."
"Why is Scribe Sprunk turning that color?"
"She's not a praying kind of person, Paladin. Sorry, Veta, but some of us are. Scribe Cancio says he was there when you made chaplain- would you mind....?"
"... give me ten minutes."
Ten minutes later, Younes and Thornburgh and Cancio were gathered around the worn remains of the shop floor's main conveyor belt. 101's dog was seated to Younes' left. Two of the factory Protectrons stood to Cancio's right. Sprunk wasn't particularly inclined to join in, but at least she wasn't alone; Initiate Reuben had just come off watch duty, and peered into the room from the other side of the doorway. The Scribes bowed their heads as 101 lifted one hand, cleared her throat, and spoke.
"Blessed are You, Lord,
God of all Creation, Master of Engineers,
who has kept us alive and sustained what remains of our world to this day.
By Your hand the Vaults and bunkers that sheltered our ancestors held firm against the nuclear fires.
Through Your wisdom our Founder led his people safely out of Mariposa to Lost Hills.
Through Your will our Elder leads us by order and example.
Inspire our Scribes, that they may raise up what was cast down by the hands of Man long past, for the sake of all Mankind yet to come.
Watch over our Initiates as they watch over us; may their armor remain strong, their aim true, and their lasers never misfire.
Strengthen the robots who labor under our orders, that each one may do the work of many, and that their moving parts last as many years to come as have already passed since they were made.
We pray that the work done in this place be pleasing to You. May it meet also with our Founder's approval.
We offer the thought and study and care our Scribes put forth here as a true use of Your gifts of intelligence and science. May it be for the good of all mankind, and not for ill.
We ask that you aid us in this endeavor, as you aided our Founder, and Elder Lyons, and all the men and women of the Brotherhood of Steel before us. May what we do in this place serve both the present and the future, and in the end free our species from brute ignorance, slavery, and fear.
Great Creator, Master of Engineers, Shield of Soldiers, these things we ask in Your name. Amen."
"Amen," said the Scribes together, even Veta.
"It's not going to hurt, either."
"... I hate when you're right. But seriously, when was the last time either of us even set foot in the chapel?"
"I don't think she's going to care, Veta. It's not like she's keeping score."
"Colvin did."
"Colvin is weird."
"And she's not?"
"Not the same kind of weird. Colvin needs a nice long leave of absence away from his guns. She's just weird because. It's like having an accent."
"Fine, but it's still embarrassing. You ask her."
"Fine, I will- Paladin? Paladin, Scribe Sprunk and I-"
"Thanks, Librada."
"Scribe Sprunk and I've been going over the schematics for the factory floor's electrical wiring and we're... well, we're not really sure how to proceed safely from here. I know you're not from the technical side of the aisle, but we were wondering if you could help us anyway."
"Oh! Um. Sure, I guess- although you two probably know a lot more about everything you're seeing than I do-"
"Not that kind of help, Paladin. A project this important really ought to have a blessing, and I don't just mean in the sense of an official okay."
"Why is Scribe Sprunk turning that color?"
"She's not a praying kind of person, Paladin. Sorry, Veta, but some of us are. Scribe Cancio says he was there when you made chaplain- would you mind....?"
"... give me ten minutes."
Ten minutes later, Younes and Thornburgh and Cancio were gathered around the worn remains of the shop floor's main conveyor belt. 101's dog was seated to Younes' left. Two of the factory Protectrons stood to Cancio's right. Sprunk wasn't particularly inclined to join in, but at least she wasn't alone; Initiate Reuben had just come off watch duty, and peered into the room from the other side of the doorway. The Scribes bowed their heads as 101 lifted one hand, cleared her throat, and spoke.
"Blessed are You, Lord,
God of all Creation, Master of Engineers,
who has kept us alive and sustained what remains of our world to this day.
By Your hand the Vaults and bunkers that sheltered our ancestors held firm against the nuclear fires.
Through Your wisdom our Founder led his people safely out of Mariposa to Lost Hills.
Through Your will our Elder leads us by order and example.
Inspire our Scribes, that they may raise up what was cast down by the hands of Man long past, for the sake of all Mankind yet to come.
Watch over our Initiates as they watch over us; may their armor remain strong, their aim true, and their lasers never misfire.
Strengthen the robots who labor under our orders, that each one may do the work of many, and that their moving parts last as many years to come as have already passed since they were made.
We pray that the work done in this place be pleasing to You. May it meet also with our Founder's approval.
We offer the thought and study and care our Scribes put forth here as a true use of Your gifts of intelligence and science. May it be for the good of all mankind, and not for ill.
We ask that you aid us in this endeavor, as you aided our Founder, and Elder Lyons, and all the men and women of the Brotherhood of Steel before us. May what we do in this place serve both the present and the future, and in the end free our species from brute ignorance, slavery, and fear.
Great Creator, Master of Engineers, Shield of Soldiers, these things we ask in Your name. Amen."
"Amen," said the Scribes together, even Veta.