Fallout: Fury Blood

Chapter 66: Deadskull

*WARNING*
Graphic violence

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Battle still brewed beneath the Prydwen's shadow. The itch to be a part of it was deep in his bones.

But Danse kept a vigilant watch over Kelly as their vertibird flew back toward the outpost. He had set her down on the medical cot in the gunship's load, topping her up on Rad-X and flushing her with RadAway, before tending to some of her wounds with the vast supply of meds from the onboard station; he was thankful for the Minutemen's retrofits.

She sat absently, refusing to lie down, and gazed out at the great desert wastes. One of her hands was permanently attached to his arm, possibly for balance as she was still swaying like a reed with each slight tilt of the vertibird. But Danse suspected it was more because she feared being separated from him. It was humbling and heart-wrenching simultaneously.

She was the strongest woman he had ever met in his life, and within less than a day, this place had destroyed her soul... Or maybe her soul never really mended from surviving the apocalypse. Hearing how the Dark Bloods seemed to revere her as an immortal goddess for witnessing it set his skin crawling.

Kelly still had yet to greet her affiliate Child of Atom pilot, whom spoke back from the cramped helm in a raised voice. "We have incoming. Three vertibirds headed right for us."

Danse's head snapped up. The others all gripped their weapons with preparation and exchanged glances. With a reassuring hand on Kelly's arm, he waited for her assenting nod, then he stood and leaned into the cockpit beside Grand Zealot Richter, assessing the situation.

"Alright. This is what we've been preparing for," he declared over the rotors. "We got lucky entering under the fog of combat, but now we're a possible threat to their airspace. They'll be under orders to shoot at the faintest hint of hostility from us. Weapons cold, and no open chatter. I don't want them being antagonized even the slightest. Richter, are you still feeling confident to handle the exchange?"

The religious man turned his steady gaze Danse's way and nodded once. Danse held a wary regard of him ever since meeting him back at the Castle. Having a history in the Enclave-the Brotherhood's nemesis back in the Capital Wasteland-paired with his active role in the Children of Atom-a cult with a religion that worshipped radiation as a god-just rubbed Danse the wrong way. Richter had a calm, eerie manner about him, but his military past was evident in the crisp way he held himself and the hardened eyes of a soldier.

Taking a long, judgemental gawk at the man's intricate tattoo circling his right eye and spreading out to consume the one side of his face, Danse eventually nodded back. With his thick beard and slicked back hair closely shaved up the sides, he vaguely reminded him of a leaner, blonder version of Maxson... Hmm. He then wondered how exactly this man had earned Kelly's trust. Or how she had earned his.

A short-range transmission burst over the helm receiver, and Danse immediately recognized the voice. A fellow Paladin by the name of Svensson. "Be advised. You are entering the Brotherhood of Steel's airspace. Identify yourself and your intentions, or be shot down." Blunt. Brotherhood textbook. Svensson was by nature a merciful man, at times to a fault-often the reason he was assigned to human resources or missions that required a deft touch. So his out-of-character tone suggested the situation must be tense and either Kells or Maxson had put the pressure on.