A crack of teleportation lightning tore through the air, depositing Nate and Beluga onto the cracked pavement outside the ruined Nahant Sheriff's Department. The December wind immediately bit into Nate's coat, while Beluga merely brushed glowing particle dust from her synth-smooth frame.
Before they could fully adjust, two short, suppressed blasts echoed from the shoreline.
Pfft. Pfft.
Nate looked up sharply.
From behind a rusted cruiser truck, Courser X8-66 stepped forward—calm, silent, immaculate despite the blood on his sleeve. The two raider guards who'd been watching the docks were already crumpled in the snow behind him.
He didn't acknowledge the kills.He didn't need to.
X8-66:"You've arrived at the intended time."
He pointed toward the water.
Through the drifting mist, the silhouette of Libertalia rose—a colossal, half-sunken cargo ship with stacked scavenger shacks, jury-rigged watchtowers, and rickety walkways sprawling across rusted hulls of smaller boats. Lanterns flickered across the settlement like a hive of insects.
X8-66:"Our target is positioned on the uppermost deck of that central vessel. He controls the raiders and the stolen Institute property."
Nate squinted."Target? You mean the renegade synth?"
X8-66:"Correct. Designation: B2-47. He fled the Institute six months ago with experimental autonomy upgrades. 'Father' would like you to resolve the matter personally."
Nate rolled his shoulders, annoyed."Uh huh… since you're here, I figured you could've just cleared the whole damn place without waiting on me."
X8-66 didn't react.
X8-66:"Direct intervention would defeat the purpose of
Beluga stepped forward, expression flat but eyes flickering with tactical overlays.
She held up two relay grenades, the small cylindrical devices humming faintly.
Beluga:"X8-66 and I will provide fire support. I'll use these to relay in synth squads for distraction and pressure. They'll draw most of the raiders away from your path."
She twirled one grenade in her fingers, then clipped it to her belt.
Beluga:"You will focus on reaching the target alive."
Nate smirked."Right. So I'm the bait?"
Beluga answered without hesitation.
Beluga:"Incorrect. You will be surgical knife."
Nate blinked."…Thanks? I think?"
A distant alarm klaxon echoed across the water—raiders shouting, engines revving, spotlights swinging.
X8-66 drew his pistol and nodded toward Libertalia.
X8-66:"It appear that they've noticed the outer perimeter guards are missing. You need to move now."
Beluga tapped her rifle against her shoulder.
Beluga:"Ready when you are, Boss."
Gunfire cracked across the water the moment Nate's boots hit the first floating pallet. Beluga opened up with precise three-round bursts, shredding a rooftop marksman before he even brought his rifle to bear. X8-66 moved like a shadow, each shot a perfect execution.
Sirens wailed across the settlement.
Then a distorted voice thundered over the rusty PA speakers wired around the scavenged vessels:
Gabriel (B2-47), over PA:
"Somebody get the Mini-Nuke Fat Man launcher!I see some chromedome tin-can trying fucking to kill us!LET'S FUCK THEM UP!"
A roar of raider excitement followed—boots pounding, metal clanging, laughter turning feral.
Nate's stomach dropped.
Nate:"Did he just say Fat Man?"
Beluga:"Affirmative. Probability of portable nuclear deployment: 78%. I recommend accelerated assault."
X8-66:"Target is panicking. He will escalate. Move."
The trio advanced across half-sunk walkways. Raiders writhed out of makeshift huts, firing wildly. One with a rocket launcher leaned from a railing—
Beluga hurled a relay grenade.
A flash—Three Gen-1 synths materialized, immediately riddling the raider with lasers, sending him spiraling into the sea.
Nate charged up a ramp of welded sheet metal. A raider lunged with a pipe rifle—Nate bashed him off the edge with the butt of his rifle.
Beluga:"Left flank!"
A turret stitched bullets inches from Nate's head. Beluga dove into cover, firing controlled burst patterns until the turret sparked and died.
X8-66, already ahead, dispatched two more raiders with surgical laser shots.
As soon as nate reached the next threshold—an old fishing boat repurposed as a guard platform. Raiders had mounted two heavy machine guns.
They were already spinning up.
Beluga grabbed Nate and shoved him down.
Beluga:"Cover!"
Bullets shredded the wooden planks where Nate had been standing.
Beluga sprinted, almost a blur, leaping between crates. She fired into the ammo belts of one turret—it jammed and detonated, killing the gunner instantly without realizing what happen.
X8-66 neutralized the second with sniper precision, the gunner's body slumping into the sea.
Nate (breathing hard):"Do they ever run out of psychos?"
Beluga:"Negative."
Over the PA system, Gabriel continued screaming:
Gabriel, PA:
"GET ME THAT FAT MAN ALREADY!I want these Institute bastards atomized! MOVE!"
Nate's blood ran cold.
Inside the Cargo Ship Hull
Nate fights through the narrow rusted corridors. A raider lunges with a sledgehammer—Nate parries and fires point-blank.
Beluga dispatches enemies smoothly—too smoothly. Her movements lack hesitation, lack empathy.Nate notices.But now isn't the time.
A panicked raider sprints by:
Raider:"The boss got the Fat Man! Everyone upstairs—NOW!"
Lasers slice him down as X8-66 approaches.
X8-66:"Target on final platform. Be advised, Subject has armed heavy ordnance."
They emerge onto the sprawling upper platform of containers, scrap metal, and improvised raider fortifications.
Wind whips across the water. Raiders scramble, some fleeing, some firing wildly.
And at the highest point—
Gabriel. B2-47.
A Gen-3 synth that could've passed for any human man in the Commonwealth:
Hard eyes.
A coat patched together with raider scrap.
A red bandana.
A battered Fat Man launcher balanced casually on his shoulder.
No robotic parts.No metallic glow.Just a man—or what he believes himself to be.
He spots Nate and grins through the PA mic clipped to his chest.
Gabriel (B2-47):
"HEY! YOU! FUCK CAN! YOU THINK YOU CAN COME OVER TO DESCRATE MY KINGDOM? SUCK MY DICK AND CALL US GAY!!!"
"You want me? COME AND GET ME!"
He raises the Fat Man as his grin twisted wider.His finger squeezed the trigger.
FWOOOM–THUNK!
The mini-nuke launched with a scream of compressed air and raw death.
Nate barely had time to gasp—
X8-66 moved.
Not a step. Not a dive. A calculated, instantaneous decision.
He sprinted into the blast path and shoved Nate backward with inhuman force.
There was a flash like a second sunrise.
KA-THOOOOOM!
The upper deck shook violently, metal screaming as shockwaves tore through the shantytown structure. A geyser of water blasted up from below as the mini-nuke vaporized an entire corner of Libertalia.
When the smoke thinned, Nate pushed himself up, ears ringing, vision spinning.
Where X8-66 had stood…
Nothing.Not even parts.
Just scorched steel.
Nate's voice:"Dammit… X8…"
Beluga's eyes lowered for exactly one second—an obedience protocol's version of mourning.
Then she switched modes.
Her voice turned cold, calculated, eerily calm.
Beluga:"Designation X8-66 has expired. Field command authority defaults to M16A1—Beluga. Proceeding with containment protocol."
A relay grenade blinked in her hand.Her targeting HUD flooded with fresh data streams.
Beluga:"General Nate, the renegade—Gabriel—cannot be negotiated with. His behavioral matrix has been fragmented."
Nate inhaled sharply, steadying himself."So? What do we do?"
Beluga stepped forward, bullets sparking harmlessly off her chest plating.
Beluga:"Use the recall code."
Nate blinked."The what?"
Her eyes flickered as she transmitted a code string directly to Nate's Pip-Boy.
Beluga:"Factory reset failsafe.Designation: B2-47.A voice-pattern command keyed for human operators."
She took aim, head tilted slightly.
Beluga:"Issue the code and he will be instantly disabled. No bloodbath. Minimal raider retaliation."
Nate scream at Gabriel while reading recall code "B2-47! initialize factory reset. Authorization gamma-7-1-epsilon!"
Another wave of raiders stormed the platform, panicked, enraged.
One raider with a spiked baseball bat skidded to a stop at the sight of Gabriel's smoking perch as gabriel stop moving like a puppet cut off the string.
Raider 1:"Boss?? Boss?! SHIT—THEY GOT THE BOSS!"
He turned toward Nate and Beluga, voice cracking with fury.
Raider 1:"LUBRICATE THEIR ASS!!!"
The raider horde roared, weapons raised.
Beluga stepped forward with chilling composure.
Her rifle barked—short, efficient, emotionless.
BRAT-BRAT-BRAT-BRAT—
Four raiders dropped like sacks.
Two more tried to retreat across the catwalks.
Beluga's magazine clicked empty.
Beluga (flat tone):"Ammunition depleted. Proceeding with melee."
She dropped the rifle without looking, drew her combat knife in a fluid, predatory motion, and surged forward with inhuman precision.
he first raider barely raised his pistol before Beluga was already upon him.
One fluid motion—a perfect, surgical slash across the neck.
No hesitation.No second strike needed.
The raider collapsed instantly, blood misting into the cold December air.
Before the second raider could even scream, Beluga pivoted, drove her boot forward in a brutal, calculated drop-kick.
Her heel hit his chest with bone-cracking force.
CRACK—WHUMPF—
The raider flew backward over the splintered guardrail, limbs flailing, disappearing into the freezing Atlantic with a distant splash.
Beluga stepped to the edge and watched the ripples fade.
She ran a quick internal analysis.
No bubbles. No movement. No resurfacing.
Beluga (calmly):"Survivability estimate: 0%."
She wiped her knife clean on a strip of raider cloth, sheathing it without ceremony.
The platform finally fell silent.Only the wind and creaking metal remained.
Nate stood over the bodies—one cleanly cut, one swallowed by the ocean—and felt a pit form in his stomach.
He had seen brutality.He had been in brutality.But this…This was different.
Beluga wiped her knife with mechanical indifference, as if she had merely cleaned a tool rather than ended two lives that had already ceased fighting.
Nate swallowed hard.
Nate:"…They were running, Beluga. They weren't even fighting anymore."
Beluga didn't turn to face him.Didn't defend her actions.Didn't apologize.
She simply spoke with that flat, precise tone that held no room for humanity.
Beluga:"Threat elimination protocol: complete. Minimizing future hostility risk increases mission survivability by 98.4%."
She finally looked back at him—expression neutral, eyes unreadable.
Beluga:"Operation successful. Returning to the Institute with asset B2-47."
She triggered a relay gren—WHRRR–FLASH!
A vortex of white light swallowed her and the paralyzed Gabriel.
The silence felt heavier without the two synths standing beside him.
Nate looked around the ruined ship settlement—the twisted metal, the makeshift shacks, the stains of battle. The water lapped below, calm again, as if nothing had happened.
He rubbed his face and groaned.
Nate:"Great…Guess I walk. Or call someone to pick me up…"
He looked up at the sky, exasperated.
Nate:"Yeah, sure, just leave me in the middle of the damn ocean shore. Goddammit."