Red Rocket Exchange

Red Rocket

Nora tromped slowly up the hill leading to the former Red Rocket gas station that had become her refuge and impromptu headquarters. She was following Paladin Danse, their two sets of power armor whirring and clanking up the street surrounded by deserted houses downhill from her goal. It had been nearly a week this time. Six days of Brotherhood missions; six days of being in power armor. God, she was tired. And bruised. And her armor had a jagged spur that was digging very painfully into her lower back at every move. Almost there, she thought, just a little farther. Danse turned around at her unsteady, slowing gait.

"Come on, Soldier," he encouraged, "you've got the determination. Do the Brotherhood proud." His tone was actually... gentle? Maybe not gentle, per se, but certainly gently understanding. Nora was briefly touched. Danse was single-minded in his dedication to the Brotherhood of Steel, to the point of pushing them both to the edges of their ability and strength. Since becoming her mentor, he had seemingly made it his personal mission to make her into the paragon of a Brotherhood Knight, to her private dismay. She joined the Brotherhood for her own reasons. They had technology, information, and manpower, and she needed all three in the search to find the Institute, and her son. While Danse was generally likable, and the combat training was appreciated, she sometimes wanted to smack the ever-living crap out of him for his overweening I'm-your-superior-officer attitude. It made working with him so much more difficult when he acted like they were on a critical mission all the time.

She huffed a very unladylike snort, not bothering to reply, putting all effort into forcing her battered power armor into a faster stride. The barest hint of a smile teased the corner of Danse's lips, and he turned around to take the lead again, walking a little more slowly this time. Nora's eyebrows raised in surprise. Huh, she thought, he has a sense of humor after all. Who'd have thought?

They crested the hill, rounding the corner of the rather impressive community dwelling built to house the residents of the Red Rocket settlement. Nora found a hidden reserve of energy and strode forward, ignoring the pain of her body, the sharp digging of that damn spur into her back. She made a beeline for the garage door on the side of the former gas station. Danse wisely moved aside to let her pass, keeping any commentary he may have had to himself. Before Nora could pound on the door, the motor whirred to life, raising the corrugated panels all too slowly for her liking. Piper had opened the door, cheery greeting dying on her lips, and her mouth dropped open in shock at the sight of Nora...or more appropriately, at the state of Nora's power armor. Damn, I guess it looks worse than I thought.

This last mission had been difficult. She and Danse had been tasked to take out a nest of Super Mutants to recover information needed by the Brotherhood Scribes. They accompanied one of the Scribes to the location as a protective detail. Danse was an excellent fighter, and wore his armor like a second skin, making him a truly formidable opponent. He took point, the Scribe following him closely. Nora had gotten much better at fighting during her time in the Commonwealth, and was tasked to keep an eye on their rear. The location was a maze of rubble and destruction. They got trapped in a dead-end and ambushed. Being rear-guard, Nora made a good showing of her growing skill by taking out the first wave single-handedly. Unfortunately, their intel was incomplete and there were nearly four times as many Super Mutants as had been reported. They just kept coming, wave after wave. Danse had done his best to draw their attention when her ammunition ran out, but her armor had been decimated by the final wave of Super Mutants who surrounded her and furiously battered the protective plating to shreds....literally. They had also damaged the frame with their super-sledgehammers, creasing it in several places, and creating the spur that was cutting into her back. It had been a close call, and she was lucky Danse was able to dispatch the Super Mutants while they were distracted. After they secured the information needed, the Scribe tagging along with them had departed on a vertibird for the Prydwen, and she adamantly insisted that they instead return to Red Rocket right damn now. Danse had simply started marching back.