edited 8/5/14

–

There was no time left to clear what remained of Callie's mind. Too stunned to respond to Caesar's messenger, she turned on her heels and bolted herself into Mitchell's house. For good measure she propped a chair against the handle to blockade herself inside. Locks were shit.

Her Pip-boy, she needed it. This wasn't misplaced affection, or uncontrolled lust, or a sense of duty. None of those things compelled Callie to put Benny ahead of her own revenge plot. When she decided to fuck everyone else's problems right off, Benny, by all measures, should have been included. He should have been included with Veronica and Arcade, House and Julie, and the King and all those Wasteland fucks who would only lift a finger for her if she gave four times as much in return. But no, Benny wasn't included in that list.

Benny hadn't asked her for a thing. He took. He took more than all the other fucks ever asked of her. He took what he needed and left her behind to die. He took the sex she offered and enjoyed himself thoroughly. He took the Chip and set off on his own, not asking her to come along for the ride, to provide backup or keep him company.

And then he offered. He offered her a place at the Tops. Offered her another tumble, once he was able to take her again. He offered a trump card against House. Benny took and he offered, but he didn't ask. He was too proud for that shit.

This time she searched the house with no regard for Mitchell's personal property. Shelving units were toppled and crates torn open. The thought crossed Callie's mind that another "specimen" had already been sent on his merry way with her Pip-boy strapped to his wrist.

Without a Pip-boy she didn't have a chance of recovering Benny. Her shot was good, but she needed those augmentations.

Caesar had requested her personally. That strange messenger pressed Caesar's "mark" into her palm, ensuring safe passage through Cottonwood Cove and onto Fortification Hill, but she would likely still be watched very closely. The Legion was more suited for close combat than she was. Would they know that? It was impossible to know how long they had been following her. That scout may have been at her back (or ahead of her) this whole time, since she took that courier job.

A couple more tins of Mentats turned up and Callie didn't hesitate in indulging herself. She'd be dead soon enough in any case. If she was so sure about her own demise, why was she fighting so hard to save Benny? Mint? Was it Mint making her do this? Urging her on? There wasn't enough information yet to piece together all the specifics of the shared real estate in her skull. However, it was clear enough that part of Mint's brain was in her head.

Benny's words echoed in her head, "I buried her myself." That wasn't a lie, Callie was certain. Her white hot suspicion of Veronica and her doubts concerning Arcade hadn't yet tainted her perception of Benny. Benny was evil and truthful, Veronica was good and a liar, Arcade was a wildcard with his secrets and deflection and hard-won smiles.

She found it, her Pip-boy, in a crate nailed closed under the bed that held Mitchell's lifeless body. In prying open the box she sliced two of her fingers. The blood slowed her process of strapping her Pip-boy to her right wrist. Callie stood and washed her hands while it calibrated. The weight on her wrist was comfortable, it was right.

Despite her instinct to bolt right the fuck out of the house, she made sure to check her stats first. She was rested, hydrated, and only the slightest bit hungry. She could make it to Cottonwood Cove a little after dark now that she had the Pip-boy, which reduced travel time by about a third.

With her last Pip-boy, the one given freely by the man who kept her from dying and she had killed with her own hands, she hadn't bothered activating the HUD. It didn't occur to the girl with the Tribal memories that such a thing would be useful. Callie, tenuously in control of herself, flicked through the menus until the HUD was activated and turned to the correct contrast for the bright Mojave day.

There was a tic visible on the HUD outside the door, not hostile. Could be a Goodsprings settler waiting for the doctor or it could be the legion scout. The Pip-boys were never as sophisticated as Callie would have liked. They were a brute force sort of instrument. Amazing, but not particularly refined. Still, it would be invaluable to her survival these next twenty-four hours.

Benny, Benny, Benny, it was a repetition in her head when there was nothing else for her to focus on. Benny would need a weapon if she should get it to him. Ideally, it would be the two of them fighting their way out of the Hill instead of her alone against the whole fucking Legion. Weapon, weapon weapon. What weapon? He shot her with a conventional handgun, 9mm. But that didn't mean much, just because she liked beating radscorpions with a baseball bad didn't mean she was any fucking good at it.

Mint, she needed Mint's expertise to know. She would know just what to bring for Benny.

Callie had to laugh at herself at the absurdity of the situation, as if Mint was just some acquaintance who came into her life, a half-realized friend she could invite to her home and laugh over drinks. As if Mint would even like her. As if she wasn't Mint, or at least, the last few remnants of a girl who was loved and feared in equal measure.

It was a flash in her brain, a half-seizure, half-memory, when she saw the brass knuckles at the bottom of the crate that she pulled the Pip-boy from. That was probably as close as she would get to a sign.

That was it, that was all she could manage before removing the propped chair, unlocking the door and stepping out into the Wasteland. Just as she had brushed off House's robot between Goodsprings and the Strip, she stalked past Caesar's lapdog without acknowledging him or looking back.

/

She was warned the boat ride from Cottonwood Cove to the Fort would be long and uninteresting. It gave her time to reflect on the fucking penned slaves and battered women haunting the doorways of the Cove. Her knowledge of the Legion was somewhat limited, they were Tribals, pretending not to be Tribals, just like all the Strip families.

Callie thoughts on the issue were somewhat mixed. She felt undoubtedly stronger, sharper, more powerful, now that she thought herself from the Vault, rather than a Boot Rider. It was why she was stronger, fitter, more perceptive. Once she had let go of the pretense of being Mint and started suppressing the stolen parts of her, her vision was better. Objects in the distance had become clearer. The physical and psychological limitations of Mint's former body had been holding Callie back.

Still, Callie couldn't render a single person in her legitimate memories who had loved her. There was no mother, even spoken about in derogatory whispers. There was no father, even a self-serving adoptive one. There were no friends or lovers or sour old women who gave enough of a damn to try and teach her how to shoot. There was the Overseer, suspicious and cold toward her. There was sweet Penny who rejected her even in simple friendship because her parents told her the engineer was queer, odd, unwanted. There were other women, passing through her on the way to their Overseer-appointed husbands. Never a husband for Callie, though. It wasn't worth wasting a fertile man on her. Better to assign them to other, more receptive women.

Callie didn't mean to fall asleep on the boat.

The hill up to the Fort was steep. Night had passed during the trip into the breaking of day. It honestly shocked her that Caesar's lapdog was waiting to greet her. Even with her reduced travel time he had beaten her to the Fort by a significant margin. He was good, she'd have to give him that, and a straight razor right to the gut.

At the bottom of the Hill she was ordered to hand over any drugs she was carrying. She mumbled something about a condition, but the Legionnaire wasn't buying what she was selling. Fuck, she should have been fucking snorting Mentats on board the boat if she knew this was going to happen. The lapdog smirked as she handed over her Mentat stash. He fucking knew.

The lapdog accompanied her in silence as they wound their way up Fortification Hill. Children, all boys in perfect replica armor of their elders ran up and down the hill with the boundless energy of youth. They threw real spears at imaginary targets. If she hadn't already been desensitized by Cottonwood Cove, she may have found the scene disturbing. Little boys, delivered by slaves, training to become monsters and captors. Callie resolved to kill the little boys, if the opportunity arose. It seemed humane.

Her escort remained resolutely at her side and blissfully silent throughout the ordeal. Upon reaching Caesar's tent, the guard outside demanded she hand over her weapons. There was no chance of concealing the bulky laser pistol at her hip. Both the lapdog and the guard sneered at her weapon choice. She made no mention of the straight razor in her sock or the brass knuckles hidden in her underwear, concealed by the already awkward fit of her stolen pants.

"That too," the guard gestured at her Pip-boy. Like fuck 'that too.'

"It doesn't come off." Might as well use the long-perpetuated lie to her advantage. After they left the vault, on those initial scouting missions, there were those who chose to die rather than remove their Pip-boy. Or maybe they believed the Overseer's threats.

"I've seen you without it." The lapdog spoke at her side, too close and too warm for her comfort. She'd kill him first.

"If you're that observant, you know this isn't the one I had before." She didn't bother to turn her head. His silence was enough to confirm that he did know this. Maybe he had been following her since before she had been shot? Maybe Benny hadn't been the only one tracking her? It seemed likely. "This is mine, the one from my vault. Forever and ever from the day I turned ten until I die. It came off once, because I was dead," she dragged out the last syllable. "So you've got two options," Callie struggled to keep her tone light, teasing almost. "Either you cut my arm off or let me in as is. And my guess if if you wanted me to come here of my own volition, Caesar wants me intact." She couldn't help but grit her teeth at the end.

The lapdog must have given some sort of assent to the guard. There was no further search of her person. The exchange about the Pip-boy had either spooked them or they were sort of idiots. Didn't fucking matter that much in the end, she kept her meager concealed weapons.

Until this point she was proud of her ability to remain outwardly indifferent about her surroundings. It was maybe that part of her that was Mint that let her be careless as her gaze fixed on Benny too long. Tied and on his knees, Callie felt the pangs of sympathy and memory in turn. Herself, in that position, Benny and the Khans looming over her. Not his own Tribesmen. They were civilized now and he wouldn't dream of dragging them back down into his plans.

There was that smooth, sneering voice of the lapdog in her ear again, his breath hot against the side of her face. "You two deserve each other."

This only strengthened her resolve to appear cool and aloof. She said nothing, lest she give more away.

The lapdog took his clearly appointed position beside Caesar. That fucking 'I know you but you don't know me' smirk on his face the whole fucking time. Callie half-listened and half assessed the tent. There were eight legionnaires plus Caesar. The three that stood closest to Caesar were clearly the greatest threat and would have to be eliminated first. If there was any shred of pride left in Benny, he would have already reached the same conclusion. Would there be?

Callie thought, insanely, that Mint would actually answer her question. Benny had not looked up when she had entered the tent. That could mean anything. No, if he had given up, he would look at her, he wouldn't give a fuck about himself or her or anything. Keeping his eyes downcast was smart, smarter than she had been, better survival instinct.

Caesar wanted her to take the Chip. Would be given to her when she was ready to complete his task, destroy the bots beneath the hill. Destroy the bots. Bots, the Chip had to do with House's robots. Well fuck him and fuck the Chip then. She could do better. Even under the haze of Mint she had managed to override one of those bots with some careless command.

But she had to get Benny out, now. If she came back, bots blazing, they would surely just slay Benny before she could ever reach the tent again.

Her prize for helping Caesar, getting to decide how Benny would die. Well that sounded fucking wonderful. She'd probably get to be a slave after that. A girl could dream, couldn't she? Wouldn't it be such sweet revenge to kill the one who had killed her, Caesar continued. The lapdog's smile brightened at that.

"I talk to him before I do." She turned without waiting for Caesar to answer but the lapdog grabbed her by the shoulder, spinning her back aground.

"Such filth does not speak to Mighty Caesar."

Callie laughed, and so did Caesar.

"Let her go, Vulpes." Caesar was clearly amused by his scout's loyal behavior. He was maybe more complicated a man than Callie gave him credit for. Didn't matter, he was dead in any case.

The razor was meant for her, the brass knuckles for him, but the razor was the more accessible weapon when she knelt down to "speak" to Benny. There was no time. The lapdog's eyes were on her. Straight razor removed, she only had time to slice through one layer of Benny's bindings before the scout was on her. She had anticipated this and managed to press the blade into Benny's hand before Vulpes tackled her to the ground. She had to trust that Benny could finish the job himself.

Vulpes was probably no stranger to beating women senseless, but it also seemed unlikely that he had ever been up against a cornered Vaultie. Callie knew she was strong, probably stronger than he would have ever anticipated, certainly stronger than the malnourished slaves Vulpes was accustomed to beating. For the most part, he had been following her either as a courier (how long had that been?) or with her skills dulled by the fog of Mint's intrusion. He wouldn't know.

His momentary surprise was clear enough when she used his own momentum in the tackle to continue rolling until she was on top of him. It was enough of a break in concentration that she slammed his skull once against the hard packed earth, hard. The first strike disoriented him further and she continued to pound his head against the ground until she was satisfied that his body went limp and the blood loss was significant.

There wasn't time to gloat.

Benny, true to the scrappiness of Tribal life, had freed himself and slashed through two legionnaires. At some point he must have abandoned the razor for a powerfist pilfered off of one of the fresh corpses. Callie snatched the blade off the ground and turned to face her next attacker.

She didn't have surprise on her side anymore. No doubt after watching her make short work of one of their officers, the remaining legionnaires knew she was a real threat. One, who seemed less experienced, came at her with too much enthusiasm and Callie was able to put the blade through his throat. He gurgled around it, blood flowing from his mouth as well as the wound and running down Callie's arm. She tried to yank the blade back out but while it tore at the young man's throat and sped the blood flow, it wouldn't come back out the way it went in.

"Benny, we need guns!" Callie was now weaponless, the stabbed legionnaire now lifeless on the ground. She was managing to dodge the attacks heading her way from two additional men, but she wouldn't last long if they were unable to put at least some space between Caesar's men and themselves. At least she wouldn't. This wasn't exactly her strong suit.

"Girlie, I'd love to blow this teakettle, but we're a little occupied.

A legionnaire struck her hard in the stomach, causing her to double over. Before he could strike her again, she managed to roll to one side toward the edge of the tent. If she could slide between the canvas and the ground, she could make her way outside and hopefully to where the guard had undoubtedly left her laser pistol, since he was now coming through the front flap.

"Suit yourself, asshole, I'm getting my fucking gun." Callie got most of her body out of the tent before someone grabbed her leg, attempting to pull her back inside. She tried to use her free leg to kick him off, but from her position on her stomach, it was impossible. There was nothing to grab onto to help her pull herself forward. Her face scraped against the ground as she was pulled backwards.

As abruptly as it started, the pulling stopped. Callie didn't have time to process what had happened and merely pulled herself forward again, freeing herself from the confines of the tent. Her sole focus was to get her laser pistol. Undoubtedly there were additional legionnaires making their way up the hill to Caesar's tent, but that was a problem two or three steps ahead of where she currently found herself. Darting to the front of the tent she found her weapon in a wooden box, E-Cells and all. It was already fully loaded.

Throwing open the flap of the tent she began shooting wherever she saw red on her HUD. Their armor was tough, sure, but the chance of the pistol simply disintegrating their protection was high enough that Callie would bet on herself. At least two of the legionnaires were still alive, but Callie didn't give a fuck about them right now.

"Out now!" If Benny was stupid enough to stay, he deserved his death. She hit one of the legionnaires in the arm, and then he didn't have an arm anymore. Horrified, he was unable to recover and collapsed to his knees. He'd probably have to live with the fact he let Caesar's killers get away. Had Benny killed Caesar? Had she in the flurry of shots she'd set off? It was a bit of a blur.

There was no way they could take everyone in the Fort with a single laser pistol and a powerfist. No fucking way. They had to make it to the river and hope to lose them. Callie aimed at the approaching legionnaires as Benny took the lead. She'd have to aim around the dumbfuck now. Great.

The position at the top of the hill was ideal for shooting, but not escaping. Even with perfect accuracy, she wouldn't have enough rounds to take out everyone in the camp. She had to follow Benny, at a distance.

Her HUD showed a pack approaching up the hill from the main gates. They were clustered together. If only she had thought to bring explosives. They would have to change direction instead.

"Benny, we need to scale the wall. We can't just waltz out the front entrance, there are at least ten of them approaching the gate." Callie had to yell over the screams of slaves and the inexperienced boys who had been playing solider and thought themselves men. Two relatively unarmed fuckups had thrown the camp into chaos. Was this all of Caesar's army?

Without looking back Benny changed directions and headed towards one of the tents that butted up against the wall. It would be difficult to get over the fence but they didn't have a chance. Scrambling up a pile of crates, they managed to get on top of one of the flat-topped canvas tents. Callie could feel it sagging and buckling under their weight. They would only get one chance to jump the fence. If they missed, the force of their fall would break the supports and bring the tent crashing down.

Her HUD showed no one on the other side of the fence, they were too busy coming in the front gate or already lining up their spears. Callie jumped first, trusting that Benny would follow. She got a hold of the lip of the fence and pulled herself over. A spear grazed her side and cut through her clothing and skin in succession. Still, she managed to clear the fence and brace for impact. The incline of the hill made a graceful landing impossible and she opted to roll down the hill, hopefully all the way into the river. Through her rolls it was impossible to tell if Benny had made it. Maybe there was a soft thump behind her that was his body, maybe there wasn't.

She was dimly aware that she was losing blood, but her adrenaline was so high that she couldn't really feel it yet.

The Colorado was cool even though the Mojave was always hot. River water rushed up Callie's nose and down her throat. The cold jolted her to her senses and she pushed her way back to the surface, taking in big gulps of air as she surfaced. Her nose and throat burned. Her side seared. Benny's arm was around her good side, laced under her arm and around her back. They floated together. The danger hadn't yet passed, but they laughed together.