The caps tinkled together softer at the bottom of the upturned cap on the table and its owner, Alan Sutler, wasn’t sure when he’d became a beggar. It certainly hadn’t been by choice, he’d simply left his cap on this very table once and drank himself silly in this very same chair beside it and others simply decided to donate caps; the worst part was that he wasn’t sure which was the most undignified. He drank instead, swallowing a mouthful of Rum before letting the glass fall back to the table with a heavy thump. He liked the Third Rail, more than he could care to admit even to himself, but ultimately – for a wasteland [censored]hole – it wasn’t actually that intolerable. Maybe it had been the last ten years out of the Enclave that had worn him down to accepting such things are even plausible, let alone actual reality. The local mainlanders said that the liquor was awful but, compared to the stuff they had brewed on the Oil Rig, it was actually pretty good and the singer Magnolia was a real treat; there was so little live music out in the mainland, he’d noticed, and he genuinely enjoyed listening to her sing and thinking about his late wife who’d sung for the Army.

The robot, Whitechapel Charlie floated by and swapped the donations in his cap for another measure of rum to which Sutler only grunted a response. He hated robots too, especially those that seemed to display intelligence in the form of personality overlays or the genuine intelligence of the “Synths” if such a thing were to even be believed. Thoughts of the synths however entailed thoughts of those whom had destroyed them, the Brotherhood, and their chief tool, Liberty Prime, and Sutler drank again. He remembered, just over ten years prior, making the decision to target that machine over the Pentagon to save the people in the Satellite Relay… they’d never made contact with the platform again until it was too late. To not then smite the Brotherhood of Steel, would have changed everything and probably not forced him to make some difficult choices.

It was with a sudden surge of energy that Sutler then sat bolt up-right and, in the same move, leaned forward to his duffle bag; rooting through it furiously to satiate the sudden fear that had overcame him. He sighed in relief. The vial of Psycho was still there.

“Is this really him?” A voice somewhere to his left said, as a shadow dropped over his face. Sutler looked up at two men, one old, the other bald and swarthy, both clad in long leather coats.

“It would appear so,” the bald man said. “Mr Sutler?”

The numbing alcohol briefly overcame by a rush of fear and adrenaline, Sutler made to get up and draw his gauss pistol. He got it out of his holster and had begun to level it at the man when an open hand stopped him and seized his wrist. Sutler’s eyes opened wide with fear. The bald man had crossed the distance between them, stepping in-front of the old man in the process, and stopped Sutler form raising his weapon. Either Sutler really was losing his touch now or the man was inhumanely swift in reflex.

“Mr Sutler please,” the bald man said passively, not gripping Sutler’s wrist as much as lightly holding it. Sutler tried to move his arm from the simple loop the man had made with his hand about him, but the slight grip of the bald man wasn’t disturbed an inch. Sutler noted too that the man was almost unnaturally still whilst stood there. “We do not mean you any harm, but I cannot allow risk of harm to come to Dr Ayo.”

“Doctor,” Sutler hissed savagely, trying to catch a glimpse of the old man over his bodyguards shoulder. “Pray tell, Doctor, who gave you such accreditation?”

The Ayo stepped forward, past his guard, and close enough to whisper in Sutler’s ear.

“The Institute,” he said in venomous undertones. The affect Ayo had been going for, likely one of paralysed shock, was not what he received and he moved quickly to continue talking before Sutler could let loose the obvious derision that he was forming and blow their cover.

“Listen, we are here as friends. We have a proposition for you.”

Sutler looked from Ayo to the eyes of his guard, the eyes were soulless and – he was certain now – unblinking.

“[censored],” Sutler murmured quietly and, not without a brief scowl, he allowed the pistol to fall slack in his hand, it rolled forward with the trigger-guard over his index-finger.

“Very well,” Sutler continued coolly. “It appears that I don’t have much of a choice do I?”

“You can at-least hear what we have to say Mr Sutler, if you don’t like what you hear we shall leave you too… this,” Ayo said with a dismissive gesture that made Sutler fume silently. Ayo walked towards the bar, leaving a purseful of caps behind and returning with a glass of water and a key. With a nod to his henchman, Sutler’s wrist was released and, with trepidation, he holstered his gauss pistol before the glass of water was thrust at him.

“Sober up,” Ayo said before stalking onwards. The bald man gave a slight, but curt, nod of the head and Sutler trudged after Ayo. He was led to a backroom, in the Third Rail’s VIP section which Ayo opened with a turn of the key before stepping inside. He took a single battered armchair as his perch and offered an opposite one to Sutler with a flick of the wrist. The bald man stood with back to the door and had secretly drawn a large .44 calibre revolver when Sutler hadn’t been looking.

“Take a seat Mr Sutler,” Ayo said and Sutler did, acutely aware of the large and presumably, synth, bodyguard standing behind him.

“Who are you? Why have you come here?” Sutler asked.

“I am Doctor Justin Ayo,” Ayo said. “Acting-Director of the Synth Retention Bureau… or at-least I was until recently.”

“Yeah I saw that,” Sutler said gravely. “Saw Prime marching alone the waterfront.”

“Yes,” the Doctor nodded with approval/ “I was wondering if I could ask you some questions, that’s why I am here.”

“How do you know my name?”

“Your drinking habit makes for loose lips, Mr Sutler,” Ayo said and Sutler scowled again. “But yes, Liberty Prime. I…”

“How do you know it was called Liberty Prime?” Sutler asked suddenly and Ayo sputtered. “Can’t imagine an ancient pre-war robot from hundreds of miles away was common knowledge.

“We have sources, or had sources. [censored]… we should never.”

“You’re talking about that women,” Sutler said, leaning forward to stare Ayo down. “She was a gook, don’t remember her name.”

“Gook?”

“Chinese… Lai or Lee or something. Not American.”

“You know about Doctor Li?”

“Vaguely, was interrogating some Brotherhood scum after a battle at a place called Raven Rock. He mentioned her name as being the one who fixed Prime, and that she’d left to come here; and as I doubt you’re well versed on failed pre-war military projects I can’t think of anyone else who ties that and you, together. She betray you?”

“She did.”

“That’s what you get for letting an outsider into your fold. Corrupting your own stock!” Sutler spat savagely. “Not to mention an Asian… say what kind of name is “Ayo” anyway?”

“Are you really doing this?”

“Then cut the [censored]. What’s this test in aid of?”

“Fine,” Ayo said sourly. “What you’ve said seems to check out regardless. Knowledge of Liberty Prime, Raven Rock, your uniform…”

“Don’t you tell me about Raven Rock,” Sutler yelled at Ayo. “Don’t [censored] assess me on my knowledge of the Enclave or I swear I’ll kill you were you stand!”

“The Enclave,” Ayo said, unmoved and with a note of finality. “That’s their… your logo on your sleeve correct?” He indicated the patch on Sutler’s arm.

“Wise correction,” Sutler said quietly. “And yes it is.”

“So everything we heard was true? You’ve been fighting the Brotherhood for the last ten years and have intimate knowledge of their capabilities?”

“As if I’d pretend to be anything else to your kind. And what did I tell you about assessing me!”

“I don’t understand Mr Sutler.”

“Looking at me like a subject. So have you been fighting the Brotherhood? So are you in the Enclave? Like you’d know either way. Like you have any right to sit there and question my veracity!”

“I am ascertaining key facts necessary for my goals!” Ayo yelled back, his face flush. “I am a scientist, I will not take you merely on faith. Don’t you presume to hold a monopoly on vengeance Mr Sutler. The Brotherhood of Steel have destroyed my entire way of life! Everyone I have ever known. I had thought before coming here that you would have understood that.”

“I will never be your kin,” Sutler muttered. “But fine, I concede that you have a point. The Brotherhood of Steel have taken everything from me.”

“And me also, Mr Sutler… you’ll have to forgive my lack of knowledge of pre-war insignia. Those eagles,” he gestured to Sutler’s epaulettes. “What rank were you?” he caught Sutler’s glare. “Are you? You have a lot of medals."

“These are the eagles of a full Colonel,” Sutler said quietly. “But that’s not my rank, I am Commander-in-Chief.”

“You’re telling me I’m talking to the President of the United States?”

“Believe what you want, mainlander, were I a mere Private I would still hold that over you. This badge," he indicated a large circular badge on his chest. "Indicates I was Secretary of Defence, when President Eden was destroyed I became the next President. Now,” Sutler said softly but with menace. “What do you want from me?”

“I’m forming a group, a group to get revenge on these bastards,” Ayo said. There was a moment of silence. “And I want you to help me run it. You know more about fighting the Brotherhood than anyone else, you were an officer, and you have military experience.”

“And you expect me to take orders from you?”

“I have resources to bare as-well, Commander,” Ayo said. “I have X4-18 here, a highly capable field unit. I can make contact with remaining Synth units across the Commonwealth and I know how to identify them. We can work in-tandem.”

“I used to run SIGINT back in the Enclave… Signals Intelligence,” Sutler clarified. “I can pull my own weight when it comes to intelligence gathering; been listening to low-level Brotherhood pvssyr for years now. So what’s the plan?”

“I’ve put out word, got some likeminded fellows meeting at a place not far from here in a few days. They’re going to be a mixed bunch. Will you be able to work with them considering your ideology?”

“I can work with people, as like as they don’t mind that I don’t like them. Think of it like this, I won’t have any qualms sacrificing lives to achieve our goal.”

“An excellent point Commander. To the end of the Brootherhood,” he said, raising a glass of water in toast.