It was a bad idea, all things considered, and an even worse one to do it at all. Especially now. But it had to be now. She might not get another chance. Six grimaced. There was nothing for it. She put the finishing touches on her modified stimpack. This wasn't going to be pleasant. She went to wake Ruth.
"It's time," she whispered. Ruth nodded. She left quickly; she slept in her armor. She was good. Six would hate to lose her. She brushed the thought away and went to get Merrin. They were the two, besides Yvana, that she was most sure of in their loyalty to her. There was no one else she could trust.
They waited silently, half a mile from the edge of the Spartan's camp, for Ruth to find them.
Shortly, two figures could be seen running toward them. Arcade was fumbling with his bag, trying to open it on the move. When he reached the two women, he stopped.
"Alright, Six. Clearly the radscorpion sting was a ruse. What's going on?" he asked tiredly.
"This is Ruth, and Merrin," she said, gesturing to them. "They will take you northwest into NCR land-controlled land." She raised an eyebrow at him. "Looks like I get four wishes."
"Are you... are you serious?" he whispered. "They know I'm over here. They'll know it was you."
She shrugged. "I'll tell them you got kidnapped by tribals. I'll even shoot some rounds into the desert, in case they're listening."
"That doesn't make any sense. Even if one of the Spartans was writing in pain due to a radscorpion sting, which she isn't, that story doesn't hold water."
"So what. You'll be long gone by then."
"They'll kill you for this," he said.
That could very possibly be true. She brushed dust from her shoulder. "Doubt it," she said.
He almost laughed, but didn't. He raised his hand to rub his forehead. "You'd take that risk," he said flatly.
She showed him her teeth; the closest she could get to a smile. "Looks like it, huh?" she said brightly. He stared at her for a while, until she grew uncomfortable. "I don't want to be an ungracious host or anything, but time is of the essence, here..."
"What happened to needing me?" he asked.
Six gritted her teeth to stop from yelling. "I do need you," she bit out. "I would like very much for you to stay here and help me every time I ask. But someone once told me that I can't force people to do things just because I want them to."
He kept staring at her with an unreadable expression. "If you're going to go," she said, with as little bitterness as she could, "you better go now. If they show up looking for you in the next twenty minutes or so, we all lose," she said. "Oh," she remembered. "But give me some bandages and alcohol before you do, alright?"
"What?" he asked, nonplussed.
Behind Arcade, she could see two figures approaching them. "Shit," she said, before falling gracelessly onto Ruth, who caught her at the armpits. "What are they doing here already?" While Arcade turned around, she dug the stimpack out of her pocket and jabbed it into her leg, pushing down on the plunger. She handed it to Merrin, who pocketed it. "Remember the story," she said. "Remember what to do." She took her machete and started gouging at the small hole.
Arcade turned back. "What the - what are you doing?" He wrestled the blade from her hands.
She let him have it; she was finished. "Faking a radscorpion..." she slurred, head dizzy.
"Is that actually - Six, you're allergic to -"
"I know... s'why it works..."
She closed her eyes. She heard Ruth start speaking quietly, and felt someone's lips on her leg, sucking at her wound, before she lost consciousness.
She woke up on a bedroll, sticky with sweat. Her head was aching and her leg felt like it was on fire. She pulled away the sheet to inspect the damage, but it was wrapped in bandages. They were thick with pus. Some of the veins in her leg were inflamed. It looked bad, but Six knew that if she was going to die, she wouldn't have woken up.
She was alone in a small pop-tent. Her mind was mostly clear, and she was worried. She hoped desperately that Ruth and Merrin had played their parts. She hoped desperately that Arcade was alright. She had taken the risk, and the mission had failed, but if everyone stuck to the story it might turn out alright. Or at least, she might not get crucified for treason. That would be a win at this point.
She ran over the story in her head in case someone came calling soon. She heard gunshots, took Ruth and Merrin with her to investigate. Got caught up by a baby radscorpion in the darkness. Since she was allergic to antivenom, she freaked out and tried to cut the poison out of her with a machete as Ruth ran for the doctor. That way if anyone saw the wound they wouldn't be able to tell it was a needle puncture instead of a radscorpion sting. She grinned ruefully. Whether or not she would be believed hinged on Caesar's willingness to accept that three highly trained female warriors were taken by surprise by common local fauna, and furthermore were unable to kill a small radscorpion in close quarters. After working so hard for the women to be taken seriously, now she had to hope he thought they were all weak and stupid, and she in particular was hysterical. But it had to be done. Even though she failed, she didn't regret trying.
No one came for her. After a couple hours the burning in her thigh receded, and she struggled to her feet. She gingerly tested her weight on her injured leg, and went sprawling to the ground. Of course it would be during that embarrassing moment that Vulpes showed up.
"Those radscorpions," he deadpanned. "Dangerous business."
Ruth and Merrin were behind him, and they rushed forward to help her up as he glared at her with his arms crossed. She tried a bright smile. His expression grew darker.
They didn't speak as they made their way, Merrin burdened by Six's weight on her shoulder, back to the Spartan camp. She settled her onto one of the few chairs in the main tent.
"Leave us," Vulpes barked. Six had to restrain a smile when the two women looked at her first for confirmation.
"You are dismissed," she said, and they left.
He glared at her some more, but whether it was a lingering affect of the poison or because she still felt somehow unburdened by trying to free Arcade, she didn't really care. She wouldn't be flippant, though. Not this time. She knew the peace she felt now wouldn't last, and if Vulpes' expression was anything to go by she wouldn't like what came after.
"Why do I even bother?" he asked rhetorically.
She choked down a sarcastic reply and waited for him to continue.
"Your loyalty was already in question. Specifically because of this sort of thing. Then you try to secret him away. What were you _thinking?_"
She paused in case he would keep speaking, but he didn't. "I'm sure you already know what I was thinking, Vulpes."
"Damn right, I do. Risking yourself, risking everything for that fucking profligate. Again. Tell me now he has no hold over you."
"I never said he didn't. I just said it wasn't because of a relationship or anything. I was doing the right thing."
"You certainly weren't. The only doctor in the camp. What if someone else needed healing?"
"The Legion was fine before they had Arcade-"
He crouched down and looked her in the eyes. "You nearly killed yourself. Think, for a moment. What's more important. A pissant little doctor getting his freedom, or the leader of the Spartans continuing her work?"
"You can't make me regret it, Vulpes."
He sighed heavily. "Doesn't matter anyway. You're being sent on another suicide mission. All of you. Caesar can't prove you were trying to steal Arcade from him, but he certainly suspects something nefarious happened."
She couldn't help smiling this time. Something nefarious, indeed. "I'm pretty good at suicide missions, you know," she said.
For a moment, Vulpes looked like he wanted to laugh, but he didn't. "That is our hope, once again; that your luck will see you through another stupid decision."
"What must I do?"
He sat on the ground next to her and avoided answering by inspecting her leg. "You should change the bandages soon."
She wanted to say, 'You a doctor, too, now?' but in this mood she didn't think he'd appreciate it. Well, he never appreciated Arcade jokes, but this was really not the time. Instead she replied, "What's the mission, Vulpes?"
He didn't look at her. "You and your Spartans will travel ahead, ostensibly to find where the Lipans have gone. Well, that is relatively true. Caesar does hope that by sending you out it will lure them from their hidey-holes."
She considered this. "But you think it will end in the Lipans' victory over the Spartans."
"Our best intelligence," he said, then scoffed. "Not that we have any, but logically the Lipans couldn't have gained much ground in the two weeks since we've sighted them. But the main theory is they have situated themselves not much further south. The hill range to the southeast. They probably plan to try to ambush us when we get close. That is what I would do if I were fighting a force much bigger than myself."
"So, I get ambushed, the Lipans reveal themselves, and the rest of the Legion swoops in when they are weakened from the first battle."
"That's the plan."
"He assumes we will lose."
"The Lipans are much smaller than the Legion, but they are much larger than the Spartans."
"Haven't you sent any Frumentarii into the hills? Can't you give me anything else to work with?" she asked.
"I have. If you hadn't started spouting off treason in the middle of the meeting you would have heard the report." He looked uncomfortable. "I sent three. None returned. That suggests the enemy is there. I have, however, taken the liberty of drawing up a rough plan you might try. I know you're not good at this sort of thing yet, and I do have experience coordinating many Frumentarii. It might be helpful. As they say, though; no plan survives contact with the enemy."
She nodded. "Any word from our friend the sniper?"
"Damn it, Six!" he shouted. "If you would have just kept doing your job you would know all these things, and furthermore we wouldn't be about to throw away thirty good soldiers for punishment!" She didn't know what to say to that, so she said nothing. "Well?" he demanded.
"Well? Well what? I made my terrible decisions, and now this is what it is."
"Don't you ever listen to me? You don't have to be a sacrifice for those you feel responsible for," he said angrily.
She gaped at him. "I'm not-" he turned his face away. She struggled onto her knees, ignoring the shooting pain in her thigh and balancing herself with one hand on his leg. He averted his eyes. Her voice softened. "I'm not Servillia."
Instead of the anger she thought would follow that statement, there was an oppressive silence.
"You remind me of her sometimes."
Six swallowed uncomfortably. She thought he would deny it. She wasn't sure if she actually wanted to have this conversation. But then, it might be the last one she ever had with him. Last chance for answers. This is what Vulpes meant, wasn't it; bungling her way further and further into a bad situation.
Oh, well. No point in holding back now.
"I'm not her."
"Of course not. You're not like her. You haven't been."
Six groaned in frustration. "Then what? What does that mean? Why do your conversations always have to be like this?"
"Like what?"
"Like circular nonsense! No, don't change the subject."
"You asked the question."
"Why do I remind you of her if I'm nothing like her?" she demanded. "Answer the question, and when you do, make sense."
"Let me say it this way," he began, then stopped for a long moment before speaking again. "She didn't fit in this world," he said quietly. She had to lean in to hear him. "This broken, stinking wasteland could never touch her. She was above it all. She rarely wanted for anything. Only..."
"Only what?"
"Only me, I suppose. That's all she wanted. And only sometimes. Sometimes I think I'm the only thing that saved her. If someone else had laid claim... But sometimes I think she never needed me, or anything. That she was entirely self-contained, or, or ethereal."
He paused. Six felt like she should say something. 'Why would that possibly remind you of me?' was her first thought, but instead she went with, "Sounds lonely."
He glared at her. "It wasn't. She was never - I was never - It wasn't." He sighed. "Perhaps I am not articulating myself well."
"Perhaps not," she agreed.
He shot another glare at her, but without any heat. "She was a slave," he said. "She had no respect from anyone save me. She had coarse clothing and ate the lowest food. She was a water-carrier which was no small task. But she was happy. She was always happy. You - you have more than most in the wasteland. You are near the head of a great society. You are affecting change throughout vast regions. You are never satisfied. You take what the Gods give you and throw it away."
"What is this, how to gain freedom through submission? A lecture on happiness in slavery?"
He looked baffled. "No. Why would you think that?"
"Well, you're telling me I should be more like her-"
"I certainly am not. You two are so different you might as well be separate species."
Six was a little surprised how hurt she was by that statement. She didn't want to be compared to Vulpes' past love, and yet to hear it put so harshly how she would never measure up was a little upsetting. He looked at her strangely, and she looked away.
"You shouldn't endeavor to be like her. Servillia was empyreal. You are dynamic. Those things are not opposites, but in this case they might as well be. Servillia, for all her grace, would never have brought change to the Legion. She left to protect her daughter, she died to do it, but she would not take action. Perhaps she did find her freedom through submission. And perhaps that is what you are doing now. Not a slave to the Legion, but a slave to your guilt. You would rather cast off your responsibilities in an effort to soothe your conscience. She sacrificed herself for her child. Now you wish to sacrifice yourself for those you feel are your responsibility. But you have opportunities she didn't, even if she'd been inclined to action. Not being like her doesn't make you worse than her. And it certainly doesn't make you less important; she was a slave, after all."
Six glanced at him. "Not to you," she said, and instantly regretted it.
"No, not to me." He smiled at her, a little sadly, she thought. "Do you want to be important to me, Six?"
"I..." She didn't know what to say. She couldn't think of a joke to deflect with. He wasn't being inappropriate, so she couldn't start an argument. It was a real question, wanting a real answer, and it was terrifying. "I think... you're rather egotistical... if you think..."
"Six," he said softly. His eyes were blue, she realized. She always thought they were grey, but they were actually a faint blue. "Would you just answer the question?"
She couldn't. All this time, work, effort, to get to her position in the Legion. She had to be independent. She had to be strong. She couldn't submit. But what did that matter? It sounded like an old, worn-out excuse now. It was all slipping away from her again, anyway. What was one more bad decision? She was so wrapped up in her thoughts that when the word, "Yes," slipped out of her mouth she barely noticed. But she couldn't miss his hand coming to cup her jaw, or the lips pressed against her wayward ones.