My father was a security guard at a secret military base in the desert of southern California. A typical MP, I remember mostly his strength. When it came time for the revolution, I respected his convictions. He stayed behind, to help those who were disabled and wounded, even the scis. He put the well being of myself and my mother into the hands of his best friend, and ordered us into the desert with the other rebels.
We, very few, marched into the wastes. The only thought on my mind was that I would never see my father again. He knew that to stay behind was death. And still, he stayed. He respected the flag, the CIC and the badge that he wore.
What an idiot.
He died for the sins of others. That will never happen again to us. We will become self-sufficient. We will become keepers of knowledge and lore. We will survive the end of civilization. We will take responsibility for our actions, and we will hold accountable the actions of others.
This I pledge to you, Maxson, my son. The Brotherhood of Steel is justly named. We are a Brotherhood. Unlike my father, we will stand back to back with those that share our convictions and beliefs. We are Steel. We are hard. We have been sharpened to an edge.
Always remember the fires that we were forged in. Never forget. The motto from a previous time, and our motto now.