Consider the Possible Consequences

Curan sat out in the training yard watching as the Vertibird bringing reinforcements from Lost Hills touched down on the landing pad. Then he turned to the initiates, the next generation of the Brotherhood of Steel, some born into it and a lucky few who had been accepted from the outside world by Elder Gratian. Curan was like them once. It all felt so long ago now of course.

The past few months Curan had started to reconsider his affiliation to the Brotherhood. He had seen things, horrible things. A whole group of FEV mutant refugees seeking solace in the Willamette wiped out by his squad mates. Innocents killed to get to something the Brotherhood deemed as 'valuable to their efforts'. He knew that the Brotherhood was capable of some good, but to him the negatives outweighed the positives.

He didn't know who to blame. Elder Gratian compared to some other Brotherhood veterans wasn't so bad, he broke the rule of not accepting outsiders into their cause. A rule that many chapters held close to their chest. To Curan, Gratian was like a puppet, controlled by the Lost Hills headquarters. But even he had seen the control bother the Elder. Gratian would sometimes question orders audibly in confidence, but other times he'd do it through something as simple as a facial expression.

Curan thought this next mission: that'll be the last one. He didn't have a plan yet how he'd get out of this way of life. The simplest way in his mind would to just wander off, headed towards the sun on the first opportunity he got. Quietly break away during a routine patrol. Something like that. He cupped his face in his hand as he suddenly contemplated all the potential consequences. It wasn't going to be an easy decision to make.

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