Fallout: Wasteland Doll Commander

[Encrypted Field Journal – Commander Sarah, Division Log 073]

Location: Sanctuary Hills, Commonwealth

Date: October 24, 2287

Classification: Restricted – Division Eyes Only

They're call themselves Team 404.

And which is fitting—because most of the Commonwealth doesn't know they ever existed with over 200 years.

When I first requisitioned them from one of Sangvis Ferri factory with IOP neural data from previous commander of G&K, I didn't expect myself to be grow so attached with them. Usually T-Dolls are assets, after all. That's what the Pre-War manuals say. Tools of precision. Digital minds in combat-ready bodies. Replaceable. Or so they said.

But these four… they've proved me wrong so many times than I can count.

UMP45 is a walking paradox. Tactical, ruthless, and sharp as her tongue. She plays the part of leader with a devil-may-care grin, but I've seen the way she shields the others when danger spikes. She knows how to hold a line—and how to break an enemy before they realize they're already dead. I trust her more than most humans I've served with.

UMP9, her sister… she balances 45's sharpness with something dangerously close to joy. Always the first to offer a joke in the field, and the last to leave someone behind. She fights like a song—fluid and fast. There's genuine heart beneath her programming, and maybe that's the scariest thing of all.

HK416 is the scalpel in a world of sledgehammers. Precision incarnate. If 404 has a spine, she's it. Cold to most, professional always—but I've caught glimpses. A hand on G11's shoulder after a firefight. A glance my way when a decision weighs heavy. She remembers everything. She carries more than I allow her to say.

G11... I underestimated her. Everybody does. What do you expect on T-doll with Slouched posture, constant yawning, naps mid-briefing which gnawing me to no end. But when the barrel rises, there's no hesitation. I've watched her put down targets mid-air like she was born with a scope in her eye. She's not lazy—she's just conserving. And in her own way, she sees things none of us do.

Together, they are more than just their serial numbers. They've bled for this cause—fought in my shadow long before Nate ever stepped out of Vault 111.

They didn't ask why. They just follow my command and order with a bit of their flexiblility, of course.

But maybe… one day they should know why I keep pushing forward with my old ragging body of mine. Why I keep them hidden as long as possible, even from the Minutemen.

Because if the Commonwealth or the world ever turns on me for what I've done, I know they won't.

And that's why they're not just my team. They're my family.