Six awoke shivering, the tender ache between her thighs a reminder of what'd passed the night before. Rubbing her cold feet together, she rolled over onto the side of the mattress Boone had once occupied. He was gone, leaving just rumpled sheets, the dent of his head in the pillow and a crushed cigarette butt in the ashtray. The realization hurt but, really, she was surprised he'd lingered as long as he did.
In the end, it was probably for the best that he'd gone. Waking up next to him would've made her sentimental and that wasn't something she could afford to indulge with a man like him. If they were going to keep scratching the mutual itch, it was probably better to compartmentalize, to keep any future liaisons from bleeding into daytime business. It'd be smart to keep things quiet among their circle of acquaintance as well – she didn't want to accused of playing favourites just because she was enjoying a little private R&R with the guy.
The door to the suite creaked open and she made a quick grab for the sheets, pulling the thin cotton over her nakedness.
"Hey."
It was Boone. His reappearance wasn't all that surprising, but it did make her heart jump a little faster. Don't get all starry-eyed, she scolded herself. She had to take it for what it was. Expectations were a one-way road to disappointment.
What was surprising was that he had brought breakfast and it looked delicious. When she caught a whiff of the brahmin bacon, her stomach gave a plaintive grumble. Six didn't realize the bars in Gomorrah made anything that hearty. They seemed to specialize in cocktails and chems, not anything that required an oven or might be even vaguely nutritious.
"Hey. Figured I'd grab something to eat." Boone set the tray down on the side-table. "Made a plate for you, if you want."
"Thanks. It looks fantastic. You didn't have to do this."
"I know." He eased down onto the edge of the bed, the mattress shifting under his added weight. "Wasn't a problem."
Boone wasn't great with words, but she decided that the gesture was nice. Hopefully, it wasn't meant as an apology, some way of appeasing her before he tried to explain that he wasn't over Carla and that the previous night couldn't be anything more than a good memory. She was expecting that conversation was on its way, that it'd come sure as the sunrise or the Mojave heat, but it didn't mean she had to like it.
Six picked up a plate and plucked some silverware off the tray. She tried the bacon first. It tasted just as good as it smelled. Whoever had fried it up had obviously kept an eye on it, because the texture was perfect, crisp around the edges but chewy in the middle.
"What a way to wake up," she said. "Today's going to be a good day."
"Already is. Lanius is dead."
"What?" A piece of bacon fell off her fork and skidded across her plate. "How?"
Boone snorted. "Don't know which story to tell you. Liked the one where he choked to death on a pinyon nut. Probably not true though. Some say he might've been poisoned by NCR spies posing as allied caravaners."
"No way. Even if one of the caravaners went over to the NCR, there are tasters who try every bit of food that the commanders eat. If it's poison, it came from inside the camp and there's more than one person who knew about it."
"Inside the camp? You're saying it's Legion poisoning Legion?" He looked dubious. "Doesn't seem like their style."
Boone had a point there. Every time Six had seen the Legion take care of its own members, it'd been a brutal mauling with power-fists and machetes, not something underhanded like getting them to guzzle down cazador venom. Even with the tasters, she'd had the idea that they were more concerned about external threats and spoiled food than with the possibility that one of their own might resort to the feminine trick of poisons.
Of course, Vulpes had never been one to let quaint old notions of honour and fair play stand in the way of achieving his goals. He and his Frumentarii would've seen nothing objectionable in dispatching an enemy with a nice clean poison had the opportunity arisen.
Six remembered the warning he'd issued about Caesar's tumour.
"In fact, you will pretend to know nothing of your profligate medicine. I don't care if you see an infant bleeding to death in the square. You will ignore it."
At the time, she'd simply believed that Vulpes didn't trust her, that he didn't want her going anywhere near his precious Caesar with a scalpel. It was probably a good instinct. Still, it didn't explain why he'd never done anything to seek out a cure, especially when there was expertise readily available.
It occurred to her that Vulpes might not have wanted Caesar to get medical help. If his leader's behaviour was becoming erratic, if he seemed weak and unable to live up to the standards he'd once set, Vulpes might have decided that it was time for new blood. That would mean shedding some old blood.
Of course, if Caesar died, Lanius would step into power and Vulpes would lose his command and likely, his life. He must have known that if he wanted to survive Caesar's death, he'd have to kill Lanius first.
After that, Lucius would be less of a problem . By Six's estimation, he was technically third in the succession, but he was getting on in years, his beard grizzled with grey. Besides, from what Six had observed, Lucius had always been a follower at heart, a bit of plodder compared to the Fox and the Monster of the East. He and Vulpes had always seemed somewhat wary of each other beneath the displays of cordiality, but if Caesar and Lanius were out of the picture, it wasn't hard to imagine whose personality and tactics would dominate.
She recalled how smug Vulpes had sounded after learning the Omertas were dead.
"I planned for this possibility. If you must know, you did me a favour."
Sorting through Nero's papers, she'd noted that he seemed more impressed with Lanius and Caesar than Vulpes. The Omertas didn't trust the Fox even if he was their main point of contact with the Legion. If Vulpes were to take over the army, she doubted Nero would have continued to offer his allegiance.
Vulpes was willing to risk sending the Omertas after her because they were a disposable resource, one that might later be turned against him in a possible civil war with Lanius, Lucius or some other ambitious Legion commander. If they killed her, he won. If she killed them, he still won and had plausible deniability if any Legion men confronted him on the loss of an ally.
Six's fork clinked against the edge of her plate.
"I think Vulpes killed Lanius. I think he's planning on taking command of the Legion himself."
She explained her line of reasoning to Boone as best she could. He seemed more annoyed that she hadn't told him about Caesar's brain tumour than the fact that Vulpes might be taking over the whole damn operation.
"You should've said something."
"I'm sorry. I didn't think you'd care. I sort of figured it might take some of the fun out of going to kill him."
"Hmh. That's no excuse. You don't get to keep shit like that from me."
"You're right. I should've said something." She took a strip of bacon off her plate and put it on his. "There. Restitution."
He didn't look too impressed with her joke. "So are we going to the Fort? I think it's a good time."
Six wasn't so sure. If she was correct in her suspicions, going to the Fort and killing Caesar might be playing right into Vulpes' hands.
"Look, if we do that, even if we take down Caesar, we'll be handing the Legion over to Vulpes. We'd be giving him exactly what he wants."
"Yeah, but sometimes getting what you want ends up biting you in the ass," Boone said. "Vulpes doesn't sound too popular. We kill Caesar, get rid of that Lucius fucker and see what happens. Maybe Vulpes will get a cross instead of a crown."
It wasn't a bad plan, but the idea of helping Vulpes to power still made her feel sick to her stomach.
"And if he gets a crown? That puts him further out of my reach. He'll have all of the Legion's resources at his disposal and he won't stop coming until we're both dead."
"If we're lucky, we could catch him, Caesar and Lucius at the Fort all at the same time. They got to get together to talk, right?"
If they caught the three of them before they organized a solid plan of succession, it would be an ideal scenario. All the major leaders of the Legion would be dead. The centurions would likely wait for orders from Phoenix before they'd dare make a move and that would set them out as easy prey for the NCR.
Six nodded, pushing down her doubts. "You're right. It's worth the risks. We'll arm up and go."
"Today?"
"Today."
Boone brushed a strand of hair back from her face, his hand lingering on her cheek. "It's going to be a good day, Six."
A good day. Maybe one of her last.
Nobody else liked the idea when she introduced it at a group meeting later that morning.
"You can't be serious," Veronica said. "Look, when I said I wanted to see new things, I mostly meant casinos. Luxury restaurants. Places where people don't have an unhealthy obsession with power-armour. The Fort wasn't really on my list of destinations."
"I'm not forcing anyone to come. This isn't what you signed up for. I know that."
Six could see the struggle playing out over Veronica's face. She knew that the scribe was feeling guilty for not wanting to take on this fight, one that would likely be the death of them all.
When she replied, her voice was soft and ashamed, barely more than a whisper. "Please don't get killed out there. Okay?"
Six nodded. "We'll try to avoid it. Dying wasn't too much fun the first time around. I'm not looking to repeat it. "
"Dang it all, Six, I'm not letting you and Army bite the dust across the river," Cass piped up. "If you want to kill Legion so bad, why don't you wait for the big showdown? You'll have plenty of back-up."
"And they'll be prepared. They'll have their succession plan figured out by then. If we go now, we can catch them off guard. If we're really lucky, we might start a power struggle in Arizona and then the leather-skirts are in for some real good times."
"Look, I ain't a coward. You helped me take care of McLaugherty and the Van Grafs. I owe you for that. You want me to cross the river, I'll cross the fucking river."
There was an obligation there and Six might've made use of it, but having let Veronica turn her down, it preyed on her conscience to press any of the others into reluctant service in what Boone had already deemed a suicide mission.
"Cass, I need you here. Take care of Gomorrah. If any more Omertas show up, I'll want you and Veronica around giving 'em what-for."
"Damn straight, gal. Better believe it," Cass tipped back her hat, putting on a shaky grin. "The two of you better come on back now. If you eat lead, I'm gonna bring y'all back to life and drop you myself."
When Six swivelled around to give her regards to Arcade, his expression was solemn and his mouth was a hard, unyielding line.
"This is a bad idea," he said. "This... You know what? I'm sorry, I'm not even going to sugar-coat it. Six, you're not well. You have amnesia and you've suffered a trauma or ten. You're just not yourself right now, probably haven't been yourself for a long time, but you can get help. You know, Julie sent me for the specific purpose of preventing you from doing stuff like this. I'm supposed to be the voice of reason here."
He turned to face down Boone. "You, my friend, are clinically depressed, you've just finished coming off an addiction to Buff-out and you exhibit all the classic symptoms of PTSD. So, no, I'm not going to endorse the two of you running off on some crazy suicide mission against an encampment full of bloodthirsty psychopaths in skirts."
Boone frowned at this assessment of his mental health, but didn't offer any debate on the subject.
"Arcade, it's decided," Six said. "I understand your concern, but you and the Followers aren't responsible for me anymore."
"We could find an alternative to this. You have options. You know, you could go back to Freeside. We could get you back to healing people. You know, instead shooting them in the face."
"Maybe later. Once I've shot one particular person in one very specific face. But, right now, this is something I have to do or I'll never have any peace. Do you understand?"
Arcade took off his glasses and rubbed his eyes. Six couldn't tell whether he was just bone-tired or if he was trying to get a rein on his frustration. From the tautness of his mouth and the way he kept blinking, it occurred to her that he might be on the cusp of tears.
"I...I'll try to. Because I can't stop you. It's always been your choice. I just think you'd be better off getting some help."
She patted him on the shoulder, unsure whether this would console him or just make it harder for him to keep a stiff upper-lip.
"I had great help. You've done all you could. But you can't save everyone. Especially if they don't want to be saved."
He sniffled and dabbed at the corners of his eyes, before setting his glasses back on his nose. "Well, then... Ad augusta per angusta."
Lily didn't seem to understand what was going on. She kept twining her clumsy purple hands together and re-adjusting the absurd little cap perched atop her large purple head.
"Leo says you're going to kill someone."
"I am," Six said. "A very bad man."
"Leo is very bad. You shouldn't go making bad people angry, Jimmy. Why don't you stay with Grandma and Grandma will bake cookies for her little munchkin."
It was a tempting offer. Six hugged the old Nightkin, barely managing to get her arms around the mutant's waist.
"Take care, Lily."
Boone was most broken-up about saying goodbye to Rex. He'd wanted to take the dog with them, but Six didn't think it was a good idea to place the King's pet in that such danger and eventually, Boone had agreed.
He crouched down and rubbed the mongrel's head, feeding him one of the treats he'd taken to carrying in his pack. "Good dog. Good Rex."
His gaze scanned the room, eventually settling on Arcade.
"You take care of him while we're gone."
"I...I'm not really good with animals. Except in, um, lab situations. I'm actually quite -"
Boone cut him off with an impatient sigh. The mere mention of scientific testing seemed to be enough to put him off letting Arcade dog-sit.
"Fine. Just make sure he gets back to the King if we don't make it."
He turned to Lily. "This is Jimmy's dog. Jimmy needs you to take care of him while he's gone."
"Jimmy got a puppy? Jimmy, sweetie, I don't think your mommy and daddy would approve of pets in the Vault. They make dirty messes in the corners..."
Six glanced at Boone, feeling a little annoyed at his gambit. It was one thing not to contradict the Nightkin's delusions. It was quite another to use them to trick her into taking care of your pets.
"Please?" she said to Lily. "Can I please have the puppy?"
"Oh, alright. Grandma will take care of the puppy until you come back." Her voice dropped an octave, crackling with scarcely controlled fury. "Leo will give him lots of bones to chew on."
Six and Boone left Gomorrah, passing through the shabby lobby and under the rippling lights of the marquee. They'd made it halfway down the Strip when Six heard barking and the sound of robotic legs clicking together.
She saw Boone reel around and Rex leaped at him, nearly knocking him off his feet.
The sniper gave a loud cough, one that Six thought sounded distinctly like an attempt to keep down a surprised laugh.
It was hard to resist taking the dog. Nevertheless, the King had entrusted Rex to her. She knew that if the dog were to die, it would be a sad day in Freeside.
"Go home, Rex." Six jabbed a finger in the direction of the Gomorrah, struggling to keep a straight face. "Go. Now."
Rex tilted his head up at her, giving a low whimper.
Boone stooped down, scratching behind Rex's ears.
"Think he wants to come along. He likes killing Legion."
Six sighed. "What he likes is you scratching his ears and feeding him jerky."
Boone took another treat out of his pack and fed it to the mutt. "Sure does."
And with that, the robotic dog wound up coming along for the ride, although Six didn't even want to consider what the King would say if he found out they'd taken his beloved "hound-dog" on an all-out assault on the Fort.