[color=ed1c24][u]James Gregor Castner[/u][/color]

James was halfway through his second rack of cells when he finally lined up the shot on the cultist, firing a burning shot through the man’s torso. He collapsed instantly. Before he could shift attention to the other cultist, who was now wildly spraying bullets outside of cover, the other James put a plasma bolt in him. 

A blissful silence descended on them as the green glow of plasma faded. His breath was ragged as he reloaded his laser rifle. The firefight took something out of him besides blood. Suddenly two more burst up near him and he hastily drew his .44. Before he could send a few wild shots at them, a crackling volley of rifle shots took them down. 

Longfellow and a few others came out of the woods, guns still smoking.

"Not as spry as I used to be, but hell if I still got it...." he muttered with a grin, sounding half drunk. James could have hugged the old coot, but he was too exhausted.

“Thanks for the assist”, he said slowly, gasping from exertion. He grasped some stimpacks and bandages from one of his pockets and applied them to his leg wound, where a bullet had grazed him. One of the harbor folk helped him, and got him to his feet. James looked around at the aftermath, processing all that had happened.

Then he remembered Steve being attacked. He stumbled over to him as quickly as he could. It looked like he had been shot and chewed on by some animal. The little monster he had tried to shoot earlier, now feeling guilty that it had slipped past him. 

"Why?", Steve suddenly shouted in anguish, "Why did we have to die? What did we do wrong?" before starting to cry. It looked like he was in some kind of shock.

He quickly went down on his knees and applied a stimpack to Steve’s injured arm and chest. As he applied them, he said what he would say to anyone who was a part of his unit: “you’re gonna be ok. You’ll make it, buddy”, he wasn't sure that was the the case, but he said it as fervently as he could.

"NO!", shouted one of people in the clearing. Another Far Harbor resident lost to the cult and killed in the firefight?. Then the woman sprinted between the other cultists, finally arriving at the two Longfellow had killed.

"NOO!" She screamed again, and collapsed to the forest floor sobbing. He wasn’t sure what to do.

"T-t-they're" She stammers, "..they're...Synths."

He looked at Corrine sympathetically. "I'll see what she's talking about", he said as he got up from beside Steve. He remembered the woman Corrine had been crying over was a synth, and it appeared the others were too. He was skeptical of Maxson’s demonization of the synths, but he was still cautious of them. Fake men could hide any number of secrets. It certainly meant something that the cultists they’d were all synths.

He hesitantly walked up to the sobbing woman, and put a hand on her shoulder. “I’m sorry for your loss”, he said uncertainly. He decided to risk a question. “What were these synths to you? Why would they all join the cult”. 

(OOC I think this is the first time my James has met Rose. And sorry, had to take care of these other things before scavenging the vertibird.)