Paladin 101
Jul. 21st, 2012 03:52 pm![[personal profile]](https://www.dreamwidth.org/img/silk/identity/user.png){kind=small}
aaaaaaaagh_sky"... you're tiny."
Oh, God. That was- yeah, way to make a good impression, Cancio, that was exactly what you wanted to say to the Paladin in charge of your very first field operation. He could hear Scribe Peabody slapping a hand over his face at the thought and Peabody was on the other side of the Citadel.
At least 101 just looked surprised, not offended. And at least she only let off a snort of laughter before putting a hand over her mouth. "I've heard that before," she said. "Usually not quite so up front, though."
"I'm- ma'am- Paladin 101, I'm so sorry-"
"It's all right." 101 held up one armored hand. (It would've helped so. much. if she weren't wearing that MP-47/A. So much. On someone taller it'd look imposing. On her it looked like a kid playing dressup.) "I've heard worse. I don't think I got your name, though?"
"Harry Thornburgh," Jerald said firmly. 101 lifted one steel-grey eyebrow. "Okay, no. I'm sorry. Scribe Jerald Cancio of the Order of the Sword."
"He's the team gunbunny," put in Thornburgh. "Don't worry, nobody actually likes him."
"Hey!"
101 had the decency not to smile at that. "I'll keep it in mind," she said instead. "And you three are...?"
"Scribe Harold Thornburgh," said Thornburgh, "and this is Scribe Librada Younes and that's Scribe Veta Sprunk, Order of the Quill. Good to meet you, Paladin."
101 nodded. "The same," she said. "I wanted to thank you in advance for your work on this project. I know it's not going to be anything even close to easy."
"Like anything ever is around here?" said Thornburgh.
"True," said 101. "Still- thank you. When we actually get this place back on its feet and manufacturing again, it's going to make a lot of difference to a lot of people, not just the Brotherhood. It's going to be a lot of work for all of us, so..." She hesitated. "Oh, bother. I had a speech all ready, but the whole thing just sounds stupid now that I'm actually in front of you guys. Can we just go pick up the Initiates and head for the factory?"
"You're the one in charge, Paladin," Jerald said. "You say, we go."
"Yes, but- oh, never mind. Come on, the day's not getting any younger."
She turned and headed for the stairs up to the Bailey. Jerald and the others fell in behind her. "If, um," Jerald said as they went. "If you don't mind my asking, Paladin-"
"Hm?"
You're tiny and you're covered in scars and you've got more notches in your ear than a pit fighting dog. You got to keep Mjolnir after the Adams AFB operation. "You don't... really seem like the kind of... I'd think you'd be in the field fighting greenskins or something. I mean. You're-"
"Not a scientist or an engineer. I know." 101 glanced briefly over her shoulder. "I know. My parents were scientists-"
"At Project Purity?"
"Mm-hm. Both before and after I was born." They were in the Bailey now, heading for the uncertain-looking Initiates clustered around a group of pack Brahmin. "Science just wasn't in the cards for me. I got a decent education in the Vault, but I just didn't test into a scientific slot when I took my GOAT exam."
"... okay," said Jerald, who had no clue what that was supposed to mean. "So you wound up a soldier instead? I- no offense, but that's... kind of weird for an outsider. I mean. For one of us, it-"
"She is one of us, Cancio," muttered Thornburgh.
"I mean for someone born one of us," Jerald hastily amended. "For someone born Brotherhood that kind of makes sense, but-"
"Oh, it pretty much happened by accident," said 101. "Long story. The short version is, there's not much call for soldiers in a Vault, so I suppose the aptitude test just didn't account for that. I got picked for the ministry instead. Everything else came later."
Jerald nodded. It still didn't make much sense, but he supposed hearing the whole story would've helped. "Okay," he said. "So how come you're all over this project now? I mean, I listen to Galaxy News Radio-"
"Oh, God." 101 shook her head. "I wish I knew what Three Dog saw in me. He makes me sound like some kind of combat monster..."
Librada coughed. It sounded suspiciously like the word 'Olney' was in there somewhere.
"Yes, well. The fact is that I got into the RobCo building when I was still fresh out of the Vault, and I was able to pull enough information off the old mainframe to realize the place wasn't in as bad of condition as it appeared. I'm doing this because of that, and because the world's too dangerous a place for human workers to do all the rebuilding themselves. If the Brotherhood can make its own Protectrons again, that frees up an awful lot of people who'd be putting themselves in needless danger otherwise. Machines don't get tired, they don't get sick, they don't eat or drink- they just work until they wear out or run out of power. Provide that, and you've taken an awful lot of load off an awful lot of people."
It made sense, he thought. And it did sound like a soldier's answer, since it was basically a question of redistributing manpower. There was probably something else to it, from the way she sounded, but he didn't think it was such a great idea to push for 'real' answers this early in the assignment. (Especially not when he'd called her 'tiny' to her face. Good Lord.) Anyway, they'd just caught up with the Initiates and the pack animals. "All right," he said. "Sounds good to me."
101 glanced over her shoulder at him, an odd expression on her face. "I'm glad you approve," she said, and then turned away.
Way to get off on the right foot. This was gonna be a long assignment.
Oh, God. That was- yeah, way to make a good impression, Cancio, that was exactly what you wanted to say to the Paladin in charge of your very first field operation. He could hear Scribe Peabody slapping a hand over his face at the thought and Peabody was on the other side of the Citadel.
At least 101 just looked surprised, not offended. And at least she only let off a snort of laughter before putting a hand over her mouth. "I've heard that before," she said. "Usually not quite so up front, though."
"I'm- ma'am- Paladin 101, I'm so sorry-"
"It's all right." 101 held up one armored hand. (It would've helped so. much. if she weren't wearing that MP-47/A. So much. On someone taller it'd look imposing. On her it looked like a kid playing dressup.) "I've heard worse. I don't think I got your name, though?"
"Harry Thornburgh," Jerald said firmly. 101 lifted one steel-grey eyebrow. "Okay, no. I'm sorry. Scribe Jerald Cancio of the Order of the Sword."
"He's the team gunbunny," put in Thornburgh. "Don't worry, nobody actually likes him."
"Hey!"
101 had the decency not to smile at that. "I'll keep it in mind," she said instead. "And you three are...?"
"Scribe Harold Thornburgh," said Thornburgh, "and this is Scribe Librada Younes and that's Scribe Veta Sprunk, Order of the Quill. Good to meet you, Paladin."
101 nodded. "The same," she said. "I wanted to thank you in advance for your work on this project. I know it's not going to be anything even close to easy."
"Like anything ever is around here?" said Thornburgh.
"True," said 101. "Still- thank you. When we actually get this place back on its feet and manufacturing again, it's going to make a lot of difference to a lot of people, not just the Brotherhood. It's going to be a lot of work for all of us, so..." She hesitated. "Oh, bother. I had a speech all ready, but the whole thing just sounds stupid now that I'm actually in front of you guys. Can we just go pick up the Initiates and head for the factory?"
"You're the one in charge, Paladin," Jerald said. "You say, we go."
"Yes, but- oh, never mind. Come on, the day's not getting any younger."
She turned and headed for the stairs up to the Bailey. Jerald and the others fell in behind her. "If, um," Jerald said as they went. "If you don't mind my asking, Paladin-"
"Hm?"
You're tiny and you're covered in scars and you've got more notches in your ear than a pit fighting dog. You got to keep Mjolnir after the Adams AFB operation. "You don't... really seem like the kind of... I'd think you'd be in the field fighting greenskins or something. I mean. You're-"
"Not a scientist or an engineer. I know." 101 glanced briefly over her shoulder. "I know. My parents were scientists-"
"At Project Purity?"
"Mm-hm. Both before and after I was born." They were in the Bailey now, heading for the uncertain-looking Initiates clustered around a group of pack Brahmin. "Science just wasn't in the cards for me. I got a decent education in the Vault, but I just didn't test into a scientific slot when I took my GOAT exam."
"... okay," said Jerald, who had no clue what that was supposed to mean. "So you wound up a soldier instead? I- no offense, but that's... kind of weird for an outsider. I mean. For one of us, it-"
"She is one of us, Cancio," muttered Thornburgh.
"I mean for someone born one of us," Jerald hastily amended. "For someone born Brotherhood that kind of makes sense, but-"
"Oh, it pretty much happened by accident," said 101. "Long story. The short version is, there's not much call for soldiers in a Vault, so I suppose the aptitude test just didn't account for that. I got picked for the ministry instead. Everything else came later."
Jerald nodded. It still didn't make much sense, but he supposed hearing the whole story would've helped. "Okay," he said. "So how come you're all over this project now? I mean, I listen to Galaxy News Radio-"
"Oh, God." 101 shook her head. "I wish I knew what Three Dog saw in me. He makes me sound like some kind of combat monster..."
Librada coughed. It sounded suspiciously like the word 'Olney' was in there somewhere.
"Yes, well. The fact is that I got into the RobCo building when I was still fresh out of the Vault, and I was able to pull enough information off the old mainframe to realize the place wasn't in as bad of condition as it appeared. I'm doing this because of that, and because the world's too dangerous a place for human workers to do all the rebuilding themselves. If the Brotherhood can make its own Protectrons again, that frees up an awful lot of people who'd be putting themselves in needless danger otherwise. Machines don't get tired, they don't get sick, they don't eat or drink- they just work until they wear out or run out of power. Provide that, and you've taken an awful lot of load off an awful lot of people."
It made sense, he thought. And it did sound like a soldier's answer, since it was basically a question of redistributing manpower. There was probably something else to it, from the way she sounded, but he didn't think it was such a great idea to push for 'real' answers this early in the assignment. (Especially not when he'd called her 'tiny' to her face. Good Lord.) Anyway, they'd just caught up with the Initiates and the pack animals. "All right," he said. "Sounds good to me."
101 glanced over her shoulder at him, an odd expression on her face. "I'm glad you approve," she said, and then turned away.
Way to get off on the right foot. This was gonna be a long assignment.