The Citadel
Jun. 10th, 2010 04:53 pm![[personal profile]](https://www.dreamwidth.org/img/silk/identity/user.png){kind=small}
aaaaaaaagh_skyDaily life in Megaton started early, just as soon as there was enough light to work by. The first fingers of sun over the ruined eastern horizon generally marked the start of the day when Ellen was on the road. Even at Milliways, she'd set her room's lights to switch on around dawn. Somehow, in spite of all that, she still couldn't help but think it was too early by far for her to be awake now.
She lay back on the pallet the Brotherhood had provided her and stared at the ceiling. They'd put her in a room by herself for some reason, instead of sharing space with Dr. Li. Maybe they'd meant well by it. Maybe they were just sparing Dr. Li. God knew the woman had been half a breath away from flying all to pieces when Ellen saw her last, on the way to give her statement to Elder Lyons. And it wasn't like they could exactly have her share a room with anyone else; Garza and Alex Dargon and Daniel Agincourt were men. Unless they were going to put her in the barracks with the soldiers the only thing to do was put her in her own room, or converted closet, or whatever the space was originally. She didn't know. It didn't matter.
Sure made it easy to remember who wasn't there, though.
She rubbed at her face with both hands and sat up. She wasn't going to cry, damn it, not when she was a stranger in a house of soldiers.
All right, maybe she was. But only a little.
Eventually she wiped her nose on her sleeve and thought for a while. It wasn't as if she knew anyone here, or knew her way around the place at all, either. It didn't seem like the kind of place to have a chapel, from what little she'd seen of it- but all she'd seen was the exercise yard, some of the vast research labs, and Elder Lyons' office. Maybe there was something else here. Maybe-
She got up carefully and opened her bedroom door. To her surprise, she wasn't alone. The dim, worn glow of a safety lamp illuminated a dark-skinned man who couldn't've been much older than her. He wore a dark green suit of clothing that vaguely resembled some of the gear the armor techs in the Anchorage sim had worn, and he had a laser pistol on one hip. When he saw her, he smiled. "Morning, Miss Park," he said. "You're up early."
"I- yes?" Ellen answered, startled. "Who're you?... I'm sorry, that sounded bad."
He laughed. "It's all right. My name's Paladin Kodiak. I got the late shift tonight. You know, guard duty."
"Guard... what? Why? Aren't we safe here?"
Kodiak shifted his shoulders a little. It wasn't quite a shrug. "Don't know. Might've been he thought five locals who'd just been through an awful lot might wake up in the middle of the night and need to know where something was. No sense letting 'em wander around in the dark, you know? They might get into anything."
( "Listen, local, if you want to be of use-" )
( "All right, local, mind explaining what you're doing here?")
Ellen ducked her head. "Oh."
Kodiak considered her for a bit. "I didn't mean it to sound quite like that," he conceded. "Sorry."
"It's okay." She took a deep breath. "I just..." She wasn't sure where she was going with the sentence.
"The bathroom's to the right, if that's what you're looking for."
"No- no, that's not it," Ellen said. "Actually, I was kind of wondering if you had a chapel or something on the premises."
Kodiak pulled at his bottom lip a moment, expression thoughtful. "I don't know if it'd be any use to you," he said slowly, "but... Scribe Jameson has a room in A Ring, near the Archives. It's where we go for memorials when a Brother dies and his or her name's entered in the Scrolls. Doubt there's anyone there, this time of morning."
"That would help, I think," Ellen said. "Can I go there, please?"
"Sure. I'll show you. Follow me."
There were Brothers active already as they made their way through the hall. Most of them wore the same clothes as Kodiak- pre-War soldiers' uniforms, apparently. Power armor was nice and all, but not even the most advanced designs would let you scratch an itch, and who wanted to live like that twenty-four-seven? He said Lyons' original group had found the uniforms and armor alike in the Citadel when they'd first arrived, twenty years ago. He'd been just a small child then, one of twenty un-mutated children rescued from some horrific place to the northwest called the Pitt. The Brotherhood had raised them all, training them as soldiers. Between assignments and attrition, he was the only one left still stationed at the Citadel.
It occurred to Ellen that in his own way Kodiak had had almost as restricted an upbringing as she did. Then again, how many people in the Wasteland ever really ventured far enough from their homes to really know anything else?
"Morning, Squire Maxson," Kodiak called at one point as a boy of about ten dashed by. As the boy waved hurriedly, Kodiak shook his head. "Gunny's gonna give him hell for sure..."
Ellen blinked. "Beg pardon?" she said.
"That's Arthur Maxson. Last living descendant of the Brotherhood's founder, Roger Maxson," said Kodiak. "His parents sent him east from California a couple of years ago, before they died. Figured he was better off here than at headquarters. At least he'll get a good education and proper training here, without having to watch his back all the time."
"I got my first gun when I was his age," Ellen murmured. "Does he fight, or is it just practice?"
"He's not going anywhere for a while," Kodiak said. "Last time the Pride took him out on a training mission he winged Sentinel Lyons."
Ellen winced.
"He'll be all right, long as he can keep up with Gunny's lessons." Kodiak shook his head. "Come on. The memorial room's this way."
It was a good-sized room, about the size of Vault 101's diner, if Ellen remembered right. The walls were pale paint from the ceiling to about waist-level, and some dark substance- fake wood, probably- below that. If there was electric light, Ellen didn't see it. All the light in the room came from a single flickering source at the far end, a small bowl or brazier of some kind heaped with glowing embers. "This is it," Kodiak murmured. "We don't come in here much if no one's died recently, but Jameson keeps the flame burning day and night. Says there's an old tradition about lighting memorials to fallen soldiers."
( The fire must be kept burning on the altar continuously; it must not go out. )
"It's a good tradition," Ellen answered, equally quietly.
Kodiak glanced down at her, eyebrows raised. After a moment he said, "I need to check up on the rest of your group. Think you'll be all right in here on your own?"
"I'll be fine," Ellen said, and added, "I promise not to go anywhere."
"Thanks," Kodiak said. "I'll be back."
There were no chairs, so when Kodiak left Ellen did her best to kneel on the floor instead. If there were words for what she was thinking, or feeling, they weren't coming to her just then. They hadn't come by the time Kodiak finally returned with orders to bring her to meet with Elder Lyons, either, but that was all right. She'd tried. It would do, at least for now.
She lay back on the pallet the Brotherhood had provided her and stared at the ceiling. They'd put her in a room by herself for some reason, instead of sharing space with Dr. Li. Maybe they'd meant well by it. Maybe they were just sparing Dr. Li. God knew the woman had been half a breath away from flying all to pieces when Ellen saw her last, on the way to give her statement to Elder Lyons. And it wasn't like they could exactly have her share a room with anyone else; Garza and Alex Dargon and Daniel Agincourt were men. Unless they were going to put her in the barracks with the soldiers the only thing to do was put her in her own room, or converted closet, or whatever the space was originally. She didn't know. It didn't matter.
Sure made it easy to remember who wasn't there, though.
She rubbed at her face with both hands and sat up. She wasn't going to cry, damn it, not when she was a stranger in a house of soldiers.
All right, maybe she was. But only a little.
Eventually she wiped her nose on her sleeve and thought for a while. It wasn't as if she knew anyone here, or knew her way around the place at all, either. It didn't seem like the kind of place to have a chapel, from what little she'd seen of it- but all she'd seen was the exercise yard, some of the vast research labs, and Elder Lyons' office. Maybe there was something else here. Maybe-
She got up carefully and opened her bedroom door. To her surprise, she wasn't alone. The dim, worn glow of a safety lamp illuminated a dark-skinned man who couldn't've been much older than her. He wore a dark green suit of clothing that vaguely resembled some of the gear the armor techs in the Anchorage sim had worn, and he had a laser pistol on one hip. When he saw her, he smiled. "Morning, Miss Park," he said. "You're up early."
"I- yes?" Ellen answered, startled. "Who're you?... I'm sorry, that sounded bad."
He laughed. "It's all right. My name's Paladin Kodiak. I got the late shift tonight. You know, guard duty."
"Guard... what? Why? Aren't we safe here?"
Kodiak shifted his shoulders a little. It wasn't quite a shrug. "Don't know. Might've been he thought five locals who'd just been through an awful lot might wake up in the middle of the night and need to know where something was. No sense letting 'em wander around in the dark, you know? They might get into anything."
( "Listen, local, if you want to be of use-" )
( "All right, local, mind explaining what you're doing here?")
Ellen ducked her head. "Oh."
Kodiak considered her for a bit. "I didn't mean it to sound quite like that," he conceded. "Sorry."
"It's okay." She took a deep breath. "I just..." She wasn't sure where she was going with the sentence.
"The bathroom's to the right, if that's what you're looking for."
"No- no, that's not it," Ellen said. "Actually, I was kind of wondering if you had a chapel or something on the premises."
Kodiak pulled at his bottom lip a moment, expression thoughtful. "I don't know if it'd be any use to you," he said slowly, "but... Scribe Jameson has a room in A Ring, near the Archives. It's where we go for memorials when a Brother dies and his or her name's entered in the Scrolls. Doubt there's anyone there, this time of morning."
"That would help, I think," Ellen said. "Can I go there, please?"
"Sure. I'll show you. Follow me."
There were Brothers active already as they made their way through the hall. Most of them wore the same clothes as Kodiak- pre-War soldiers' uniforms, apparently. Power armor was nice and all, but not even the most advanced designs would let you scratch an itch, and who wanted to live like that twenty-four-seven? He said Lyons' original group had found the uniforms and armor alike in the Citadel when they'd first arrived, twenty years ago. He'd been just a small child then, one of twenty un-mutated children rescued from some horrific place to the northwest called the Pitt. The Brotherhood had raised them all, training them as soldiers. Between assignments and attrition, he was the only one left still stationed at the Citadel.
It occurred to Ellen that in his own way Kodiak had had almost as restricted an upbringing as she did. Then again, how many people in the Wasteland ever really ventured far enough from their homes to really know anything else?
"Morning, Squire Maxson," Kodiak called at one point as a boy of about ten dashed by. As the boy waved hurriedly, Kodiak shook his head. "Gunny's gonna give him hell for sure..."
Ellen blinked. "Beg pardon?" she said.
"That's Arthur Maxson. Last living descendant of the Brotherhood's founder, Roger Maxson," said Kodiak. "His parents sent him east from California a couple of years ago, before they died. Figured he was better off here than at headquarters. At least he'll get a good education and proper training here, without having to watch his back all the time."
"I got my first gun when I was his age," Ellen murmured. "Does he fight, or is it just practice?"
"He's not going anywhere for a while," Kodiak said. "Last time the Pride took him out on a training mission he winged Sentinel Lyons."
Ellen winced.
"He'll be all right, long as he can keep up with Gunny's lessons." Kodiak shook his head. "Come on. The memorial room's this way."
It was a good-sized room, about the size of Vault 101's diner, if Ellen remembered right. The walls were pale paint from the ceiling to about waist-level, and some dark substance- fake wood, probably- below that. If there was electric light, Ellen didn't see it. All the light in the room came from a single flickering source at the far end, a small bowl or brazier of some kind heaped with glowing embers. "This is it," Kodiak murmured. "We don't come in here much if no one's died recently, but Jameson keeps the flame burning day and night. Says there's an old tradition about lighting memorials to fallen soldiers."
( The fire must be kept burning on the altar continuously; it must not go out. )
"It's a good tradition," Ellen answered, equally quietly.
Kodiak glanced down at her, eyebrows raised. After a moment he said, "I need to check up on the rest of your group. Think you'll be all right in here on your own?"
"I'll be fine," Ellen said, and added, "I promise not to go anywhere."
"Thanks," Kodiak said. "I'll be back."
There were no chairs, so when Kodiak left Ellen did her best to kneel on the floor instead. If there were words for what she was thinking, or feeling, they weren't coming to her just then. They hadn't come by the time Kodiak finally returned with orders to bring her to meet with Elder Lyons, either, but that was all right. She'd tried. It would do, at least for now.