Chapter 9

Acceptance

"Whatever happens, let it happen."

-Albert King

With Fortitude, the trip to Nashville took three weeks. In that time, I quickly learned how much easier it was to hunt wild brahmin if I simply sniped. It was great practice for my next target, too.

I don't mean that my next target was as big as a brahmin. I simply mean that any little bit of training helps.

One day did not pass before I learned something new about Nikolai. He talked to himself when he wandered. How did I know he talked to himself if we split up and were many miles away from each other? I think he may have carried his radio in his back pocket or something, because he butt-dialed me on more than one occasion. I'd listen to his radio signal, and typically I'd hear the horse walking, but sometimes Nikolai would say something, and whether it was him worrying that he didn't pack enough to drink, or if it was his cursing one of his five ex-wives, it was pretty entertaining.

I took to calling these moments "Rascalovisms". Most were totally nonsensical, though sometimes he'd say something strange to himself.

I didn't take much time to admire the scenery as I made my way to Tennessee. Most of the time, I was watching my back. The concentration of hostiles increased the further I went, but the types of hostiles didn't really change.

The scariest part of the trip to Nashville was on my Pip-Boy. I was saddened the moment I saw "Galaxy News Radio" vanish from my radio selections. It meant the end of the land I knew, and the start of a land unknown. The radio station that accompanied me until Tennessee itself was a show called "Integrity". It was similar to GNR: the host delivered news and public service announcements, and he played music, too. The only real difference was his being more popular. His signal was available several states over.

"Hi, this is Caesar of New Vegas doing an incredible Cookie Masterson impression... and this is You Don't Know Jack!"

On occasion, GNR would play something called "The Adventures of Herbert "Daring" Dashwood". It was an action show of sorts with Herbert Dashwood (I met him once). Integrity didn't have an action show. Instead, it played a game show that the host (one "Cookie Masterson") referred to as You Don't Know Jack.

Cookie's public service announcements helped me a lot once I left D.C. I think he knew that I left (or maybe he knew Three Dog), because he made a shout out to me, telling me that I'd start to see additional mutants once I got closer to Nevada. After that, he started a round of You Don't Know Jack between three players that were referred to as "Echo", "Foxtrot", and "Todd" respectively.

His game show was fun to listen to when I was camped for the night, but it wasn't on all the time. After listening to a few episodes before I was out of range of Integrity altogether, I very quickly learned that I didn't know Jack.

I also quickly learned that the worst possible thing to do to Fortitude was to was interrupt when he was trying to eat something. If I was riding him (something I gradually got better at the more I did it), and he decided it was a good time to eat something he might have found before him, I'd have to wait until he was done.

He nearly bit me for trying to seperate him from what he was trying to eat once (I don't remember what exactly he found). Dogmeat growled a warning at him, but he eyed me until I pulled my hand away. He dropped it at that, but his eyes remained on me as if he was daring me to try it again.

That's not to say I didn't teach him a few tricks. As I travelled, I managed to teach him to respond to a whistle. I'd only use it if I was in trouble, separated from him, and needed to escape like, ten minutes ago.

Most of the trip was spent thinking. I regret not spending much of my time thinking of an attack. Like an idiot, I figured it was going to be easy like killing Marcus, but that was only so simple because it was one of the rare occasions that the Legion was caught off-guard.

When I did think about my attack, I considered going loud and trying a head-on approach, because I figured they might expect me to snipe this time. I tossed that idea, because I also worried that they might expect me to do that, too.

So, I opted to snipe again.

That was the conclusion I reached in the several weeks it took me to get to Nashville. I didn't think about what to do if the camp was too heavily guarded, I didn't think of what to do for escape if I botched the attack, I didn't think of how to react to a change in the guard patrol... all of these things were drilled into my head not by Nikolai, but by the Brotherhood of Steel when I became a spy.

In a sense, the burn notice didn't just take away what I needed to function. It really did take my skills.

When I came within view of the camp, I left Fortitude not too far from where I'd try to shoot from. I didn't know what the patrols looked like yet, and by the time I reached them, it was dark.

I thought, for a few moments at least, that I should scout with Dogmeat before I get any closer (by then I was a mile or so off). However, I shrugged it off. I had a ghillie suit if I needed it, right?

So, now a Legionary grunt has a gun to the back of my head, and Dogmeat is frozen to the spot, lest the gun fires.

"Let me ask you something, Profligate. Did you just decide a few weeks ago that slavery was what you wanted out of life?"

I was still. He kicked at my SRS.

"Put it down, toss your pistol, and stand slowly. Keep your hands where I can see them."

I slowly obliged, and I shivered.

"You guys aren't going to kill me?"

"Killing you seems a decent option, but after fighting us... slavery; relenting to Caesar's every whim... it seems a much more... economical punishment for you."

He glanced at Dogmeat, but it was too quick for either of us to make a move. I was summoning up the courage to do what I was about to do (I was already coming up with a plan), and I let down my hair (it was in a ponytail so it didn't bother me while I tried to snipe).

"Your dog will be an excellent mongrel. Once he's trained, we'll march him by the broken spirited slave that will be you so he can growl at you and snap at you. He'll forget you."

"I don't know about that," I said. The likely thing to occur should I be taken into slavery with Dogmeat would be his killing everything that moves save for me at the fort. Still, I'd probably have a slave collar on, and I'd rather not have my head blown off.

He stared at me, and gestured to the camp with his gun. "Come. You're to be paraded before Junius."

After he said that, he called for additional Legionaries to take my weapons, my horse, and my belongings. I was even stripped of most of my clothes, likely to try and break down my morale, but... I was shivering more than I was upset. My spy training makes it difficult to care when someone tries to break your spirit.

At least they let me keep my underwear. Hell hath no fury like a woman scorned, after all, but I was already irritated, which made me wonder why they let me keep my underwear, which made me wonder why they wanted me as a slave when it would've been easier to kill me, which made me wonder why this "merciful" Legion was considered so dangerous, since I've been shown some. Mercy, that is.

When we finally met Junius, I knew that even if I wasn't caught, I'd have needed to sneak further into the camp in order to get a shot at him. He was by his quarters, and when he spotted me, he was stoic. I'd have expected a "we got you" smirk, but... nothing.

Dogmeat remained with me up to now. I was freezing, and I was holding his goggles because I was to explain what they did to the leader here. I'd use that to my advantage.

I'd also use the fact that they had me parading about in my underwear as an advantage. When we stopped before him, he eyed me up and down.

"So, this is the woman that had the nerve to attack Washington D.C's leader?"

"I didn't attack D.C's leader. You guys didn't have a hold on it yet."

He stared me in the eye.

"Well done, in any case. A man that can be surprised and killed by a woman is not fit to lead the Legion in any way."

He'd regret those words in a few hours.

I put on a sweet smile. "I hear you're going to throw me into slavery for that."

"That's the idea... Bell, why are you still here? Take the mutt to the mongrel tent. Chain him up."

The Legionary that caught me went for Dogmeat. He started growling lowly at the advancing enemy, but the wink I sent in his direction got him to cooperate. He was led away, throwing glances back at me every so often, and then he vanished into a tent.

Junius sent the other Legionary holding me away, and he eyed the goggles. I eyed him up and down.

"What do those do, Profligate?"

"These? Who cares what these do? Let's focus on what I want to do to you."

He stared dully at me. I almost threw up after I said the words, but if I could get him into a bed, he'll lower his guard, and I'll be able to kill him quickly. Then, I'd use the goggles, have Dogmeat find me, we'd get my equipment, my horse, and then escape.

"Are you crazy, or do you think I'm just stupid?"

A little from column A, a little from column B...

I smiled sweetly again. "Come on. Give a girl one final night of happiness before you send her for a life of torment..."

When that didn't work, I turned on the tears. That made him flinch. One Legionary will kill another Legionary if he cries, but if a woman cries, they have absolutely no idea what to do.

The downside is, they have absolutely no idea what to do. I was as likely to be smacked as I was to be held.

In this case, neither occurred.

"Slavery in the Legion can be quite comfortable," he said. I shook my head madly while sniffling.

"Please, just one night! Am I not attractive?" I continued. The look on his face said "not like that you aren't", but I could tell he was getting into the idea.

"I am but a helpless lamb!" I said, all the while thinking "I am but the woman that murdered at least seven Legionaries within the past few weeks". I don't know why I said it like that. I guess for some reason it felt like speaking in metaphors like Legionaries are known to do might help seal the deal. By now, I was shivering even more. I knew my charms were doing the trick because he invited me into the tent to warm up.

"Please," I said. "I long for you..."

...to be six feet under.

He shook his head reluctantly.

"I could think of no better way to end my norm than sex..."

...with anybody else on the planet that isn't a Legionary or Nikolai.

He took a step back.

"I'll do anything you'd like me to do to you..."

...and then I'll do something I'd like to do to you, like smother you with a pillow or find a knife and stab you.

I went on like that for a few more minutes, begging him to help me make a poor decision. When it started to look like I was becoming a nuisance, I threw out my final move.

"I'm a virgin!" I said. That sent the goggles to the floor and me to the bed.

I never would've thought that my virginity would save my life from slavery, and merely thinking of the deed caused me to shiver and try to block out the memory. Still, I wasn't out of the heat yet, so I had to push any emotional responses away until I was safe-ish.

All I can say is my first sexual encounter was with someone I thoroughly hated, but it was necessary for me if I was to get out of this. Had I not done what I did, I'd have been forced to hand over the goggles and I'd be taken into custody somewhere else.

It turned out being surrounded by men all the time didn't curb his sexual needs. I'd prefer to leave the actual sex alone (it was not my finest moment, but I'd rather have consentual sex with someone I hated than become a slave and have non-consentual with someone I despised). All I'll really say about it is we ended up doing it three times before he fell asleep.

I was laying still beside him for several minutes until I was certain he was out like a light. Once I was sure he wouldn't wake up on me, I creeped out of the bed, and slowly searched his quarters for a weapon. I managed to find a small knife, and that knife managed to find its mark in his chest five times.

With the deed done, I lay in the bed next to him with my goggles so if anyone peeked in on us, it might look like we were sleeping. I even moved him onto his stomach for good measure, and then I slipped the goggles on after I situated myself.

It really doesn't take much time for the goggles to activate, but even so seeing through Dogmeat's eyes is very realistic. It's almost as if I'm right there with him, and in a sense, I am... or am I? Again, the only reason these things weren't mass-produced in the pre-war world is because they practically order a complete overhaul on all scientific knowledge. That is, science itself is stretched to the limit, and the concept of philosophy ceases to exist.

When I found myself in a room full of supplies, I also tasted a chain in my mouth. Dogmeat had been working on his major issue while I was working on mine, but I didn't think he'd get very far by chewing on the chain.

His teeth were mostly unharmed by the accident (some were knocked out, but were replaced by substitutes that looked just like his natural teeth), but if he kept chewing on the chain, that wouldn't be so anymore. I looked around the room for anything that could be of help, but there was nothing else other than my horse in the tent.

I had to think quickly, because I wasn't sure how long I'd have before Junius was missed. I considered Dogmeat's new appendages. He was bound by a chain wrapped around his front left leg, leaving his unchanged right leg and two rear legs alone. The front left leg was also a robotic appendage, which meant that he could use it through hydraulic action, as was the same with his rear legs. That meant that there was no bone in danger of breaking, and no limit to natural strength that could be spent on his chain. As a cyberdog, his robotic parts had a set limit regarding strength, but no real limit of how long that strength could be exerted.

That is, continuous stress on the chain by his robotic appendages would lead to metal fatigue, and I could free him. I decided to step on the chain with my rear paws, and I pulled the front left as hard as I could. Like I thought, the robotic appendages felt nothing, and after several minutes of continuous pulling at top strength (it was an awkward position that may not have occurred to Dogmeat), the chain finally gave out.

I think it gave out after only a few minutes not only because Dogmeat's now a cyberdog, but also because it spent an unknown amount of time in Nashville, which was known in the post-apocalyptic wasteland as an unpredictable landscape. It could be freezing cold and dry one night, and very hot and humid the next day. The elemental changes are what I blamed for the chain's weakness.

I had him free, but there was still a length of chain on his front left leg. As for Fortitude, he wasn't chained up, likely because the Legion considered him a mostly docile animal. He wasn't reactive when I was taken. All it took to get him ready to move again was Dogmeat being free. Though Fortitude remained silent, I knew he'd wait here for me.

Now, it was a matter of poking my head out the animal tent to look around. I simply used his sense of smell to locate what his brain considered "me" (I found myself, and instictively thought "my human", which made me wonder who Dogmeat thought the master was).

The tent I was now laying in wasn't too far away. It was 50 feet maybe. The problem wasn't the distance that needed to be covered. It was the pattern of patrol I was seeing. It was still dark, so we had some cover, but I knew that trotting out the flaps in the front would be a bad idea, so I walked to the rear of the tent, and sniffed around for any sign of Legionaries watching back there.

There were Legionaries posted behind the tents too, but they weren't in such high concentrations as in the main camp. I was about to risk it and poke my head out under the back of the tent, but Dogmeat's robotic eye activated, and suddenly through it I was seeing infrared.

I didn't bother questioning what else his eye could do at the time. So far, I knew it would glow red during open conflict in an attempt at destroying the will to fight, and I knew he could see in visible light through it, but I wasn't sure if it was used for heat signatures until then. I only hoped he wasn't watching what I was doing earlier, and if he was, I hoped he didn't think less of me for what I had to do to get a shot at freedom.

Through the infrared vision, I was able to see three Legionaries spread out behind the camp. The one nearest to me was facing the tent, so if I poked my head out at that point, there would've been trouble in the form of bullets. I had to wait until he turned and walked a respectable distance off before I dashed quietly out from the tent. There was a slight slope behind the camp and some old debris, and so I hid there, pretending to be a hunk of scrap metal until the Legionaries were clear again.

I had to basically inch my way forward, and at the same time sprint as quickly and efficiently as I could.

It was nearly cause for a small celebration when I made it to the tent, but I still had to find my equipment and clothes. Before taking the goggles off, I looked around at the tents, and it was through Dogmeat's eye that I was able to see my equipment. No, I didn't see it through the infrared vision. It was as if it sensed what I wanted to know and it switched to x-ray.

I made a mental note of where to look for my equipment, and I took the goggles off, once again accidently sending his paws to the top of his head.

Needless to say, when he came to and saw me, he was happy. Well, happy and curious. He eyed me in the bed with the now dead Junius, and I mouthed "it's a long story" to him before getting my underwear, and wrapping some sheets around me so I could stay warm. I even debated smoking a cigarette I saw on his nightstand for any warmth, but I turned it down because I tried smoking once in the vault, and I almost fainted.

The way he eyed me said we needed to talk, and I'd tell him all about what I ended up doing for my freedom, after our lives weren't in danger anymore.

"I have to get my equipment," I whispered to him. I took the small pen knife I used to stab Junius to death with me, and until I had my weapons, armor, and equipment back, the small weapon would be all I'd have against a camp full of Legionaries that would not think twice now of shooting me dead.

I silently poked my head through the rear of the tent to see if I'd find any Legionaries. I kind of wished I had Dogmeat's cyber eye. The only way I'd know now if it was safe or not would be if I was shot in the head or alive a second later.

Once there was no bullet fired, Dogmeat and I snuck out from under the flaps and crept along in the shadows. It didn't make us perfectly invisible, but until I had my equipment, I had to do everything I could to avoid being caught.

Though sneaking my way to my equipment would only take about ten minutes if done very carefully, I tried to cut it down to seven or so in the interest of warm clothes, three pairs of socks, and shoes. I couldn't feel my fingers or toes anymore, which made sneaking that much harder. Shooting might be tough until I warmed my hands up again. I made a point to ride as fast as I could for as long as I could, and then start a fire and spend a few hours warming up and resting.

I made plans that far in advance in the interest of morale. It's better to think "When I succeed" instead of "If I succeed".

When I finally ducked into my tent, I found one Legionary watching my weapons. He saw me, and was about to shout out, but he found doing so very difficult when Dogmeat attached his jaws to his windpipe. The Legionary's, that is.

After that happened, I put on as many clothes as I could reasonably manuever in. I even put on a warm winter hat I'd found while on the way to Nashville. It wasn't my color, but beggars can't be choosers. I even wore my ghillie suit for the heat I might build up.

Once I was dressed again, I spent a moment hugging myself and doing whatever I could to warm up. Post-Apocalyptic Nashville could get freezing.

I had to stop and get the rest of my equipment once I heard a Legionary call out "Junius is dead! The Profligate! Find her!"

I quickly made sure I had everything I needed, and I snuck out the back of the tent. I walked out about a hundred yards, loaded my Steyr AUG (and you thought I got rid of it), and whistled for Fortitude as clearly as I could.

Dogmeat and I stayed down, and it wasn't long before I heard gunfire and rapid running. Fortitude galloped down to my side, I got up, and we were all being shot at by the Legionaries.

I returned fire for a few moments, mounted Fortitude, and we were out of there. He was lucky not to have taken any bullets (as was I), but a round bounced off Dogmeat's robotic hind-leg, and one lucky shot hit my Steyr AUG and broke it. I had no way of repairing it this far from home, so I took the ammunition (on the off-chance that I might find a use for it), and dumped the gun that I found in Vault 87 from horseback, all while being fired upon by a now distant enemy.

Leaving behind my Steyr AUG was like leaving behind a good friend. It was my weapon of choice for four years, after all. Still, I had no chance of recovering it. My main concern was leaving the area.

Once I was sure I wasn't being followed, I continued galloping in the direction of my next target. My memories of what occurred that night suddenly flooded back to me, and I weeped.

End of Chapter

4,219 words.

This chapter was about a paragraph and a half away from an "M" Rating. What happened between Milly and Junius is meant to show just how far she's willing to go to get what she wants. Once again, Miss 101 is out making Daddy and Cord proud.

This chapter is named "Acceptance", and Milly doesn't mention much of what she now feels about Cord's death, so it remains true to grief. Acceptance is widely described as "nearly devoid of feeling".

I think this is the first and last time Milly's going to... "play video games" with one of her targets. Once is a statement about determination. Twice makes a lemon.

Next chapter follows Nikolai, the ex-Spetsnaz sociopath that butt-dials and enjoys killing.