When morning came, Juno found herself alone, the realization of the fact hitting her like a rock. Vulpes had left at some point in the night, and she lay in bed alone, no arms wrapped around her body and keeping her safe. All she had were the sheets Vigo had slept in for countless nights, where she had shown herself to be a weak and fleeting woman. She had given in to Vulpes Inculta, given in to herself, and showed him that if he could get her into bed, she really was like a slave. That's how it felt to her as she rolled over, the impression of Vulpes' head pressed into the pillow next to her.
Maybe she was reading into this too much, or maybe she could see things clearly. She wanted it to be more than a one night stand, but on her terms. Terms that did not apply with much in the Legion, and Juno felt it in her gut that Vulpes would just be bad for her in the long run. Still, she wanted him. She could still smell him in the sheets, his musky and natural scent overpowering the artificial gloom that surely had been Vigo's scent. Juno felt like a fool for throwing herself at him, and Boone's words rang no more true than they did as she lay in bed alone.
You're going to wind up like Carla, shackled and enslaved and…
"Dead." Juno whimpered aloud.
But unlike Carla, Juno would not be dead before knowing what it was like to be enslaved and put on display. She would have to suffer through the life that no human being deserved, and Juno began to feel sick for accepting even for just a few weeks that there could be no helping the women that she pretended did not even exist as she passed through the Fort. She would not become one of them. She would not let her daughter become one of them.
No. She would not let that happen.
Juno weighed her options as she did everything Mortimer asked of her, insuring the allegiance of the White Glove Society to the Legion. Before she could leave the building, she knew two things. Staying with the Legion meant death or a terrible future. Leaving the Legion meant being hunted. She could never stop, but she could hide with the NCR if she became an informant. Maybe.. just maybe.
"Juno, right?"
Juno turned swiftly in the direction of the voice that called her name, and she was surprised to find a man standing in front of her, dressed to the nines. In a way, he reminded her of Vulpes. This man had the black hair and the air of someone who did a lot of sneaky-type work, but he seemed honest enough. The man had a good natured smile and song in his voice that she did not quite know how to categorize. He seemed happy, or maybe just content.
"Um, yes. That's me. Can I help you?"
"A friend of mine asked me to find you, I believe you know him by his last name." The man dropped her only the slightest hint, as if he knew all too well someone was following her, but it was enough for her to figure out who he was talking about. Boone. Boone sent him.
"Who are you?" She questioned, walking just a little faster through the Strip. He followed without question.
"You may call me Finch. I was told you have a problem I might be able to help with."
That was enough for her to turn straight toward the Lucky 38. Maybe there was a god. They spoke no more after that, walking through the Strip together in silence. She could feel him watching her, as acutely aware of her as the man who had left her behind after a night beneath the sheets. She figured it was something all men that worked in some kind of intelligence did. He could probably tell a lot about her just by looking at her, could tell just by looking at her that in that moment, she was most vulnerable to whatever he had to propose. If Boone had contacted someone, she could only assume that 'Finch' was part of the NCR.
When they walked into the Lucky 38, the façade dropped from him so quickly that she felt surprised. He maintained the contented smile, but the distant manner in which he had addressed her before vanished and he became much more familiar.
"My name isn't really Finch, but since we were in a much more public area, I figured it'd be a good idea to use the general intelligence name. Since you're a friend of Boone's, I suppose I can let you know my name is Daniel Connery. We served together for a while before I joined intelligence."
"Did he tell you what's happening with me?"
"No, but he told me you needed help. I know that you're a suspected terrorist, and that the NCR has already tried to forcibly take you in for questioning. I've been working on this end of things for a long time now. Its not the first time Boone's asked me to help a woman that's in trouble with the Legion, but unlike Carla, I can actually do something to help you."
"…What can you do?"
"In exchange for information, I can offer you amnesty. It's within my power to get the papers. "
He looked serious, and Juno could not doubt him.
"What kind of information do you want from me?" She asked, taking a seat in the casino level of the Lucky 38. Daniel followed suit.
"Numbers, how they operate, the Frumentarii, anything. They're pretty damn good at keeping secrets, and there are few men willing to infiltrate their ranks. You're already there. You're right where we need a man, or woman in this case."
"I want more than amnesty."
The agent seemed surprised by her blunt demand, but his smile remained and he leaned forward.
"Very well then, miss Juno. What would be your terms?"
"I want the amnesty, absolute safety for my daughter, and a home somewhere that the Legion can't get to me, but I don't want to be under the lock and key of the NCR."
"Done and done, my dear. What you can offer us is incredible, and if you start right now, I can absolutely guarantee everything you asked for."
And for whatever reason, Juno cracked open and spilled everything she could tell him. She wasted no time in turning over every stone in her mind and revealing to him even the tiniest details. Juno told him about Vulpes, how he was probably still following her, and how Caesar was using him to try and lure her in. Daniel took this in stride, but clearly judged her for it. He must not be familiar with the kind of loneliness that made a person fall prey to the worst kinds of people: the ones that pretended to be genuine.
She told him how many troops she thought were at the Fort alone, told him there had to be more if they were planning another full scale assault. By the time she left, Juno had probably told him all there was to know about the Legion that she knew herself. When she started on her way to the Fort, Juno left with a new radio signal patched into her PipBoy, one she would have to listen to for an hour or so a day just in case he tried to contact her.
If I don't respond in three days, assume something has happened to me.
Juno could take no more risks, and she feared the future. The Courier used to think she had power in this struggle, but really, she was nothing more than a piece being fought over.
Gaea had not left Caesar's tent for more than a few minutes at a time for the last week. He had gotten progressively worse since Juno started coming to the Fort, and rumors were circulating that the goddess delivered pestilence to the son of Mars. Silly superstitions, Gaea knew better than to believe them. Brain tumors were not something people could develop from communicable diseases. He had exhibited these symptoms for a while now, and she was the only person who cared to noticed. Even under the watchful eyes of Lucius and the newly returned Lanius, she felt like the only person who held a life in their hands. Both men knew Caesar's life hung in the balance, but they hung over her like one unified, gloomy cloud.
"If something happens to him when you operate, slave, your entire brood will pay for it."
Lanius wasted no time, as usual. He liked putting her on the spot. In fact, they all did. With a deep sigh, Gaea passed her hands through some clean water and dried them as she approached Caesar's sleeping and medicated form. She could not let him stay like that anymore.
She went for razor first, cleaning the remnants of his hair from his head so that skin would be clean when she had to pry it apart. Behind her, she could feel Lanius and Lucius watching every careful stroke of the blade she made. She had gotten old, but her hands had lost none of their precision. Gaea made no mistakes. Even when she cracked into his skull, going straight for where she knew the tumor to be, she could hear the disgusted sounds of the guards outside of the tent. In her younger days, the sound of bone breaking used to unnerve her, but she got over it quickly. In the coming days, they would too. Battle would reintroduce itself, and the horrors she had seen would be played for them. It had been too long since those boys had seen any action other than the gruesome beatings of a slave.
The operation moved slowly but predictably well until she found the tumor. Lucky for Caesar, it emerged in a place that would do little to hinder his regular functions, should she chose to cut it out and sew him back up, but Gaea realized she had a tremendous amount of power in her hands as she stared down into the open skull of Caesar. They had made a dire mistake giving her the tools with which to save Caesar's life. She had been loyal before. She valued the lives of her brethren, but my god, would it feel good to kill him. She could lie too.. Say it was a mistake.. there was no saving him.
There was no saving him. Gaea made no mistakes, only purposely blotched operations.
As she made her choice, Gaea prepared herself for death. She pulled the trigger on what she knew would become an ugly situation. There was no turning back.
Hello again everyone. Here is a very short update to let you all know that I am, in fact, still alive. I've recently been introduced to Minecraft, and its consumed me. However, I do have a deliciously sad morsel to introduce you to in the next update, and it will be a longer one. I thought that this would be the best place to cut the chapter.
Also, Daniel Connery is a tip of the hat to James Bond, named after Daniel Craig and Sean Connery. I thought it only suitable.
I am also aware that I completely skipped the Brotherhood of Steel questline. I don't think it fits into the story well, but it may be revisited later one.