Vault 81 – Medical Bay
The soft beeping of the med monitor brought a stillness over the room.
Austin's skin was pale but no longer gray. His breathing, once shallow and ragged, had stabilized into soft, steady rhythms. The antitoxin worked. The worst was over.
Sarah leaned against the wall, arms crossed, her expression unreadable.
Overseer McNamara stood at Austin's bedside, arms rigid, jaw tight. The boy blinked up at her with red-rimmed eyes.
Overseer McNamara: "You're nearly died, Austin. This wasn't some scavenger hunt. You opened a door that was sealed for a reason."
Austin looked down, guilty.
Austin: "but I just wanted to see more. The Vault gets so… boring and dull. I thought I could sneak around, maybe find something cool tale to share with Erin—"
McNamara (cutting in): "And Yet what you found a plague nest that nearly took half or enitire the Vault with you."
Her voice cracked near the end. She placed a firm hand on his shoulder, then straightened and turned to Sarah.
McNamara: "The Vault owes you, Commander...There were no such protocol for what you just did… but thank you."
Sarah gave a quiet nod, then turned to Curie, who stood near the vitals monitor, her optic lights slowly rotating as she ran another health scan.
Sarah: "Well Curie, You staying down here, or—?"
Curie: "I have fulfilled my mandatory duty below. I am… ready for something new. Perhaps above ground, where science must now be tested in the real world?"
Sarah raised an eyebrow.
Curie: "You are organizing efforts to protect and rebuild. This people you with… Minutemen. Oui? I would like to assist. I possess full medical training and considerable field adaptability."
Sarah gave a small smile.
Sarah: "We don't say no to good people. Welcome aboard, Curie."
Curie: "Then I shall serve as your field medic, with honor and data integrity."
Overseer McNamara gave one final look toward Austin — then to Curie.
McNamara: "She's not really one of ours, But Please... take care of her."
Sarah (quietly): "She'll be saving lives."
As Sarah and Curie stepped through the Vault's main atrium and toward the lift, some residents watched in stunned silence — others, with faint hope.
Above, HK416 waited near the entrance with her rifle slung and eyes sharp, standing just beyond the sealed bulkhead. She glanced up as Sarah emerged.
HK416: "You were in there longer than expected."
Sarah: "We found more than just vermin. And Vault has a medic. She's joining us."
Curie stepped into the sunlight for the first time in over two centuries.
HK416 (eyeing her): "We're letting a floating nurse join the fireteam?"
Curie (politely): "I am also combat-rated in triage under duress, and can neutralize pain thresholds by ninety-three percent."
HK416 (dry): "Oh Great. Another optimist."
Sarah chuckled: "She'll be our optimist. Now Let's get moving."
The vault door hissed shut behind them, sealing the depths once more. Morning fog still clung to the trees, and the chill hadn't yet lifted from the Commonwealth air.
Sarah and HK416 stepped out into the clearing. The rocky path twisted down into the woods, where smoke curled gently from a modest campfire set in the distance near a cluster of tents and defensive barricades. Team 404's remaining members stood watch nearby, rifles slung but eyes scanning.
Seated by the fire were Preston, a few Minutemen from Charlie Team, and a figure clad in his usual Vault suit with combat coat, shoulders hunched forward—General Nate.
Next to him, slightly off to the side, stood a stranger in a battered trench coat and fedora, artificial skin showing at the neck seam.
Nick Valentine. The synth detective—recovered, intact, and brooding in silence.
As Sarah approached, Nate didn't stand. He simply looked up from the flames and said:
Nate: "Ah Sarah, We need to talk."
She nodded and joined him by the fire, while HK416 remained standing behind her, quietly observant.
Nick's synthetic eyes flicked to Sarah. "You've been underground too, huh?"
Sarah: "Long enough. So you found him?"
Preston (nodding): "Park Street Station. Vault 114. Barely made it out clean, but the synth held his own."
Nick: "And now we've got something bigger."
Nate exhaled and leaned forward.
Nate: "I told him what happened at Vault 111. The frozen pods. My wife—Nora—shot while I was helpless. My son, Shaun, taken... by a man with a scar across his face and a voice like steel."
Nick: "The profile's familiar. We cross-referenced your description with what I've dug up in my time. A name keeps coming up: Conrad Kellogg. Ex-military. Independent contractor. Mercenary for hire. Worked jobs from D.C. to the West Coast."
Sarah narrowed her eyes. "So he in Institute ties?"
Nick: "More than likely. Rumors say Kellogg's been doing wet work for someone with deep tech. Synth recovery. Random Disappearances and Quiet terminations."
Preston: "And now the people want answers. Whole settlements are going dark. Crops left untouched. No signs of struggle—they just vanish."
Nate: "We tried to track him with Dogmeat. Used a personal item—old cigar. The trail led us here, to Vault 81... but that was a dead end."
Sarah crossed her arms. "Could be the trail was contaminated. Or someone wanted it to loop."
HK416 (quietly): "Or he stopped here once. Could've scouted the Vault."
Nick looked to Nate.
Nick: "You still want to know what the Institute is?"
Nate didn't hesitate.
Nate: "They took my son. Put a bullet in my wife. They're ghosts in the wires, but I'm not chasing shadows anymore. I want the truth."
The campfire cracked and popped, sending embers into the morning breeze.