Hello, Readers one and all! Sorry for the hiatus, but after a long delay here's the latest chapter of United Under Two Skies.
"Today's the day," Veronica told her reflection as she wiped the steam off the mirror. "Today's the day."
"Are you going to say that another ten times?" Christine said as she stepped up beside Veronica to fix her hair. "You have nothing to be nervous about, so calm down or that beautiful face of yours is going to wrinkle."
"Nothing to worry about?" Veronica asked, both eyebrows raised. "I'm going to be leading the Mojave Council's contingent during the meeting with the Shard Council today, a government that spans the frigging galaxy, and you say I have nothing to worry about?"
"You shouldn't worry because you are going to knock them dead," Christine said, adjusting Veronica's collar and planting a kiss on her lips. "And besides, Rex is the one with the pain in the ass job of actually dealing with the council, so he'll be taking all of the guff while you get to be a badass where it matters."
"Corralling the herd of cats that is our government?" Veronica asked, wrapping her arms around her wife.
"Someone has to do it," Christine said, leaning in. "And it helps that you're very good at it."
"You're the wind beneath my wings, you know that?" Veronica said, leaning in for another kiss when her Omni boy beeped.
"Is a secret feature of those things a mood killer?" Christine asked as they parted.
"Only in the deluxe models," Veronica said, activating her commlink. "This is V Santangelo."
"Ma'am, the representatives from the Midwest Brotherhood and the Turncoat Legion have arrived," A technician on the other end said. "They're waiting for you down in the lobby."
"Have the rest of the council arrived?" Veronica asked.
"Yes Ma'am, the other representatives have already taken their place in the meeting hall," The tech explained. "The displays have been triple checked and connection bandwidth is within optimal parameters. Our call should go through without a hitch, all we're waiting on is Mr. Craster and the representative from Jacobstown."
"Tell me when they've arrived," Veronica ordered before closing the connection. "Looks like the gang's coming together just in time."
"Rex is still outside of the city?" Christine asked. "I thought his days of going awol were through?"
"They are but he decided to grab Marcus himself, something about making sure he's the one who walks the Super Mutant into the meeting," Veronica said, sighing. "You know how he is about sending a message."
"I get the point, but if he's late for his induction in the Shard Council then I think the message comes across as a little muddled," Cathrine asked, rolling her eyes.
"I honestly don't know if he cares all that much," Veronica said, offering her arm. "Shall we?"
"We shall," Christine said, wrapping her arm around Veronica's.
They rode the elevator down to the lobby where sure enough the collected representatives were waiting. Three of the representatives were from the Midwest Brotherhood and three were from the Turncoat Legions, and though their individual fashions were almost comically opposite both groups were dressed in their best. Isabelle Burnrows and Vein, the former descendant of tribals inducted into the brotherhood and the latter a semi-retired warlord stood in between the two groups, chatting contentedly.
There was something beautiful about the sight that was beautiful to Veronica. Less than five years ago, the world had been divided into disparate groups, factions vying for resources and control by any means necessary, but now they were coming together as one people. A veteran of Caeser's legion and a brotherhood scribe standing side by side, each ready to take a step into the future. Hope wasn't a concept Veronica allowed herself to feel uncynically often, but as they approached the group she felt it bloom in her chest like a flame in a hearth.
"Veronica," Vein said, adjusting the comically small tie wrapped around his neck. "Good to see you and your lovely wife."
"Are you just buttering me up to get a better seat?" Veronica asked the marble slab of a man. "And is that one of Rex's ties?"
"You've seen right through me," Vein said. "The Courier lent me this garment from his wardrobe, told me that a tie completes the "look" as he calls it. It is rather tight though, I half suspect this can double as a noose if the need arises."
"To be fair, Rex usually wears it loose," Christine said. "Though with a neck as skinny as his I suppose loose is a relative term."
"Speaking of Mr. Craster, where is he?" Isabelle asked, suppressing a chuckle at Rex's expense.
In answer, a nearby teleporter pad hummed loudly and in a flash of orange Rex appeared. For once in his life, Rex looked completely at ease dressed in clothes cut to resemble aspects of every faction under the united Mojave. Around his neck, he wore a specially made sash, woven together with materials from across the world and adorned with the symbols of powers past and present. Veronica smiled as their eyes met, this wasn't the Courier any longer, the man standing before her was simply Rex Craster.
"Madam President," He said, stepping forward to hug her.
"I prefer El Presidente, remember?" Veronica said, squeezing him back hard enough to pop his back.
"Noted," He croaked as she released him.
The teleportation pad activated again and when the last motes of orange light faded Three super mutants stood, crowding the pad. Veronica's eyes widened as she saw that the three super mutants weren't wearing their usual mix of leathers and metal armor, but instead wore tailored finery that through some feat of styling made the hulking post-humans look…fancy. Marcus stood at the front of the trio draped in a light grey suit adorned with gold cuff links and black dress shoes shined to a mirror sheen. Behind him was the night-kin Keen dressed in a blander version of Marcus's outfit and to his left was Neil who by some miracle was persuaded to wear an oddly stylish dress shirt.
"You got Neil off of his patrols?" Veronica asked Rex as the super mutants stepped off the pad.
"He's been recruiting super mutants and de-escalating confrontations up north," Rex explained. "I "happened" to bump into him while he was resupplying at a scout base, and convinced him to represent the community he helped build."
"Greetings," Marcus said as his trio reached the group. "Veronica, good to see you again."
"Always a pleasure," Veronica said smiling at the super mutant before turning to the humans. "Ladies and gentlemen, this is Marcus, Keene, and Neil. They represent the Super mutant and ghoul community of Jacobstown and have been vital in building the Mojave."
The collected humans stared at the super mutants for a moment, the air practically vibrating with tension. Veronica looked to Rex who was idly fiddling with a package of gum, and after rolling her eyes she looked up to see Vein stepping forward to look up into Marcus' eyes. They looked at each other for a moment, two old soldiers whose causes had long since died and without a word nodded to each other.
"It's good to see we have some real muscle on our side," Vein said, his lips curling into a grey-toothed smile.
"Just remember our brains are bigger too, human," Marcus said returning the smile.
"Now that the customary sizing up is over," Rex said, popping a stick of gum into his mouth. "Let's go meet the Zion representative and tell the galaxy that we've arrived, eh?"
?
"I'm starting to remember why I hate the NCR," Roxanne said as she stepped off the gangplank onto the bare earth. "The smell of brahmin shit."
They'd landed their drop ship within a small rocky outcropping, a mile outside Irvine, the walled community just barely visible among the hills that dominated the area. Not too far out from the walls were evasive brahmin stockades where an enormous herd milled about, no doubt stripping the ground to dirt. The town beyond the walls was barely visible through the morning haze, but what was clear was the giant radio tower the town was built around. Even from this distance, she could see the array of high-powered transmission dishes lining the tower.
"You get used to it," Boone said, walking around her as he made his way towards the break in the outcropping hiding their ship. "And the smell's only going to get worse as we get closer to Irvine."
"I did that once already," Roxanne said, pouting at the man as he walked away. "Not doing it again."
"You of all people shouldn't be complaining about doing things over," Alyssa said, appearing at her side.
"You got me," Roxanne said, looking down at Alyssa. "I suppose this is where you ask me how I'm doing after Vorhees?"
"I'm that predictable?" Alyssa asked, pushing her medic bag behind her back as they started walking after Boone.
"Yeah, you care about all that internal life jazz," Roxanne said, keeping her hands away from Alyssa as they walked.
"Maybe," Alyssa said. "So, how are you handling everything?"
"I'm-" Roxanne started, trailing off as some of her ghosts appeared atop the rocks around them, the most solid a fifteen-year-old version of Rose smiling at her. "Dealing with it when I can. I never found who gutted Dust in my go-through, and now that I know it was Vorhees…I just don't know what to think. Hell, I don't know what to feel anymore."
"That's fair, I know after Autumn was dead I didn't feel much of anything," Alyssa said. "But that wasn't personal, Autumn and the Enclave remnant were just these facsimiles with no real ideology beyond "mutant bad" and "Water ours". I can't imagine what it must be like to have your history so entwined with everything."
Roxanne thought on that for a moment, she'd mostly managed to push that kind of thinking away. In her subjective experience, Dust had
burned a long long time ago, and some of the best years of her life had been traveling from the North and the NCR. She felt her parents' deaths, felt the pain of an entire community just disappearing one day, but that pain had long turned to scar tissue. Just another memory, albeit a painful one, in a long line of painful memories that made her who she was.
"It's okay, Roxy," The other Rose said as she disappeared. "We've traveled too, we get it."
"I will admit to a little satisfaction knowing Rex was the one who turned his head to mist," Roxanne said, nodding at the spot where the apparition had stood. "If anyone deserved that "honor" it's him. After what this world's put him through he deserves a lot of things."
"We all do," Alyssa said, timidly taking Roxanne's hand. "It's a new world we're stepping into Roxanne. If getting to know Rex, the Mojave, and the cause we're fighting for it's that everyone deserves a new beginning."
"Even me?" Roxanne asked, her fingers holding hers tight. "After all, I've done, do I deserve a fresh start?"
"You know, a certain other mopey redhead I know asked that question once too," Alyssa said as she smiled at her.
"Let me guess," Roxanne said, rolling her eyes. "And look how that turned out for him?"
"Maybe I am predictable," Alyssa said, chuckling.
Around an hour later the trio came up to a small rancher's shack turned outpost at the edge of the grazing area outside the city. A boy no older than fourteen sat on the porch, an NCR combat helmet on his head and a dirty service rifle on his lap as he dozed. Roxanne looked around and sniffed the air, trying to parse the smells of humanity from the nigh overwhelming stench of brahmin.
"I thought Rex was the one with the amped-up senses?" Boone asked, not taking his eyes off the dozing teenager.
"He is, but to modify my skull to be able to take small arms fire my dad had to rework my olfactory gland and structure of my nose," Roxanne explained, catching the scent of the kid but no one else. "Means I have the nose of a bloodhound and it can't be broken. Kid's alone by the way."
"Sure of that?" Boone asked.
"No other scents besides him," She said, gesturing to the open door. "That's probably a one-man shack, enough room for a bed and maybe something to store food in. No one else is here."
"And yet the last report about Irvine was all about the people responding in minutes to any signs of outsiders approaching," Alyssa said, stepping forward to snap her fingers in the boy's face. "And this kid's so exhausted that our conversation hasn't woken him."
Alyssa knelt down and gently took the boy's head between her hands, fingertips pressing at the back of his jaw as she softly moved his head from side to side. Despite the manipulation, the boy didn't move or react at all, just snorted softly and continued to sleep. Then Roxanne noticed it, there was a black spot on the side of the boy's head, just behind the ear.
"There are signs of…skin irritation behind his ears," Alyssa said, vocalizing what Roxanne had noticed. "Two identical spots, skin blackened as if it was cauterized but still feels like living skin. He shows signs of exhaustion, sunken features, and a somewhat weak pulse, but no signs of necrosis around these black marks. Strange."
"Hm, it's also a bit strange that there are no ranchers in sight," Boone said, looking around at the herds a few hundred yards off, lazily sipping at a pond. "There'd at least be a few ranchers out to keep an eye on the herds."
"Let me try something," Alyssa said, withdrawing a small capsule from her doctor's bag. "This is a stim salt, a freshly debuted drug from the big empty. As the name implies it blends smelling salts and stim serum into a gaseous delivery system. It's meant to get soldiers and refugees up and moving long enough to get to safety, but I think our friend here can use a bit of pep."
Alyssa held the capsule beneath the boy's nose and cracked it open, sending a dark purple mist in with a breath. A moment passed before the boy's breath caught and his eyes flew open, and he let out a sneeze so strong it sent him skidding back an inch in his chair. Slowly, the boy's eyes focused on them and after a solid minute he sluggishly said:
"Who…are you?"
"We're followers of the apocalypse, hon," Alyssa said, smiling warmly at him. "We've come to check in on Irvine's people. Isolated out here puts you all at risk for medical problems, and we thought it best to com ascertain if you all need our help. What's your name?"
"Harry," The boy said, some light returning to his eyes.
"Hi Harry, I'm Alice and these are my partners, Ben and Rachel," Alyssa said, patting his hand. "Now, can you tell us where everyone is? We expected there to be a lot more people outside of the walls, soldiers, and ranchers mostly."
Harry looked around and seemed to slowly realize that there was indeed no one else around.
"They must all be at the service," He said, shaking his head.
"Service?" Roxanne asked.
"Yeah, you haven't heard them on the radio?" Harry asked, looking over at a radio tucked into a corner. "He's been putting on a nonstop service for a week now. More and more people are heading to the church every single day, don't you know?"
"Must have missed the station," Boone said, looking at the damaged radio. "Been to this service at all, Harry?"
"Yeah!" Harry said, his eyes going misty as he spoke. "When it started, all us folks not old enough to man the guns or work all day got sent to the church to hear the good word. I…I can't remember much of it, but it was amazing, let me tell you! The Pastor's got his hands on an honest to god miracle they say, and he's saying we're the chosen people now since we survived the Blight. Says angels told him so, and that us children should go out and do our best so our parents could spend the time needed to listen to them too."
"What's this about a miracle?" Alyssa asked. "And Angels?"
"The rose of the west!" Harry said, clapping his hands excitedly. "As I said, my mind's a bit fuzzy but I remember the pastor saying the angels came to him and cut their palm open, letting the blood fall to the soil. From that blood, the rose of the west sprouted, an honest to god miracle just for us. The pastor took it into the church and hasn't stopped preaching since he planted it on the altar, but since it took root only the adults can go in the church."
"Why is that?" Alyssa asked.
"Cause the angels say that us kids can't survive revulsion," Harry said before smacking his forehead. "Revelation was the word. The biggest angel said that we're all too young to receive it and should go do what we can while the adults listen to the service."
"This…big angel," Roxanne asked. "She have a name?"
"Oh yes she did, Ma'am," Harry said, nodding enthusiastically. "Trenzia."
?
Shepard watched the coiling wall of clouds on the horizon. Arcing green bolts of energy casting the clouds in eerie green and even at this distance made her skin tingle. They'd landed a few hundred feet from the entrance to Vault 111, a huge platform with a lift shaped like a gear, earlier that morning. With the now passing rad storm as cover they'd managed to land without much trouble, and hopefully without any observant watchers seeing them.
"Shepard," Tali said as she appeared beside her. "Penelope''s working on the lift controls, the internal wiring's degraded so much that she's resorted to using some of Rex's legionnaires to build a workaround. Could take around an hour by her estimation."
"Reminds me of my days as a grunt," Shepard said, looking out over the gloom to the small cluster of homes at the base of the hill. "Lots of sit and wait to go around."
Despite Penelope's assurances that the small community of sanctuary wouldn't be populated for years yet they'd detected a population of a few dozen people taking cover from the storm. As the sun began to shine through the clouds, Shepard saw robust gardens and water purifiers in the river supplying what looked like the beginnings of an irrigation system. She noted a semi-hardened perimeter lined with fortified cover every few dozen yards and small auto-turrets overlooking the river and the stretch of cleared land beyond.
The interior of the town was shabby but hardened against the elements and attack, with the wrecks of homes patched up enough to make them acceptable for habitation. At the center of the community's culdesac was a large radio tower where a tree had probably once been. It was hooked into what had to be a small micro fission generator, probably salvaged from a nearby building, that supplied repaired street lamps with the power needed to light the streets. All in all, this little community had done quite well for itself.
"So much for this place being abandoned," Shepard said. "Nothing looks too new, but whoever these people are they've been here at least a year if I had to guess."
"I agree," Tali said, looking over a read-out on her Omni boy. "The storm interfered with some of my scans but it appears that this community is fairly new. Surprisingly stable given the instability of the area."
"Anything coming off that tower?" Shepard asked.
"AT first glance it looks like a standard transmission tower for short to mid-range radio transmissions," Tali said, highlighting it in a holographic display. "But it seems like there's some kind of high-powered transmitter integrated with the tower's systems. Running a diagnostic on its potential range now. Alright, it's coming in now….Keelah."
"What?" Shepard asked unable to read the display as it was mostly in Quarian lettering.
"Shepard, this transmitter could theoretically transmit across interplanetary distances," Tali said, her eyes bulging slightly. "The tower itself is some kind of omnidirectional array jury-rigged to work in tandem with the
transmitter itself. With sufficient power, it could easily broadcast across the entirety of the Commonwealth, constantly."
"That's disconcerting," Penelope said, somehow having come to stand beside Shepard without either of them noticing. "The Deep Range Transmitter should still be safely locked in away in ArcJet systems."
"You know what this is?" Tali asked.
"Yes, it's a bit of prewar tech that Nora found back in my timeline, quite useful but ultimately pointless to our mission here," Penelope said, nibbling on a nail as she looked over the small community below them. "But that's not for years yet, same with any kind of settlement here in Sanctuary. By all rights, it should be home to bloat flies and a lonely Mr. Handy right about now, not a community with an established foothold."
"Well, the simple act of observing an event changes the outcome," Tali said. "There's no way the timelines follow the same path, no matter how similar the outcomes are. Between you, Roxanne, and the Normandy crew's presence in this universe I'd theorize that there have been numerous changes in the "canon" as it were."
"A butterfly flaps its wings in China and a hurricane hits New York as the old saying goes," Shepard said. "Are they transmitting anything with that suped up radio of theirs?"
"Yes, it's transmitting an unencrypted signal on a loop," Tali said, isolating the signal on her Omni boy and playing it.
"Good morning, Commonwealth. This is Radio Freedom, the voice of the Minutemen."
"The Minute Men?" Penelope asked. "How is this possible? At this point they should be in shambles, barely holding on after their last General's death."
"Like she said," Shepard said, raising an eyebrow. "The canon's changed. Say, Penelope, we have about an hour until we can crack open the vault, yeah?"
"Um, yes," She said as she squinted at the community below them.
"Alright, if our goal is to find a way into the institute and in the long term for the Mojave to absorb it then it can't hurt to touch base with some people who live here," Shepard said. "So, I'm going to head down there and try to get a read on the local area while you and Tali do what you can to get us into the vault, got it?"
"Is that wise?" Penelope asked.
"Listen, these people are going to become part of the global community whether they know it or not," Shepard said, looking at Penelope. "Besides they have local knowledge that can help us, and if one of them does happen upon us cracking open a vault in their back yard I'd like us to at least be acquainted."
"You have a point," Penelope said, sighing as she turned to look down the hill where a few people had wandered out into the open. "You'll have to forgive me, I'm still getting used to this whole diplomacy in lieu of infiltration idea."
"Well, we all have our blind spits," Shepard said, patting her on the shoulder. "Alright, stay on comms and hold up here with Tali. I'll go take a look around down in town, maybe bring you back a t-shirt."
"I'm a size medium," Penelope said dryly before turning to walk back to the control panel.
"Ooh, banter," Tali said, rolling her eyes. "Thought she'd never warm up to us."
"Eh, she's alright," Shepard said, turning towards the path down the hill. "We've gotten through to worse. Remember when Za'eed first came aboard? Took us, what three months, to even get him to say hello to the crewmen."
"You have a point," Tali said. "If they have snowglobes get me one, okay?"
"Can do," Shepard said, chuckling as she started towards the path.
A few minutes later, Shepard approached a small guard post manned by a young woman in a reinforced leather duster. She was fiddling with a magazine as they approached, but when they'd come within two dozen yards or so, raised a pistol as she looked up from her reading. Shepard stopped and raised her hands, offering the woman a smile in answer to the gun.
"Howdy, I don't mean any harm," Shepard said. "Just a traveler looking to resupply before I head south."
"We don't get much traffic from the north this time of year," The guard said, lowering her gun and resting it on the post's small table. "Especially with winter around the corner."
"I'm coming to stay with family in Diamond city," Shepard said remembering the city from Penelope's report. "Hoping to set up a salvage operation together."
"You and half the traders on the east coast, sister," The guard said, shaking her head. "Alright, head into town and go to the General's office, nice blue house with a Mr. Handy trimming the grass. She's got a blanket order that all newcomers get traveling papers before heading into the Commonwealth proper."
"Oh, I need papers?" Shepard asked, lowering her hands.
"It's a new era, sister," The guard said. "New Minutemen. New Commonwealth. Get used to it."
"Fair enough," Shepard said, making to walk past her.
"And just so you know," The guard said as she passed. "Don't draw that gun in town or you're best case scenario is spending a night in a cell, got it?"
"Yes Ma'am," Shepard said, giving her a salute. "Wouldn't want spoil such fine hospitality."
Shepard didn't bother listening to her response, instead, she trudged into town and tried to avoid the radioactive puddles on the path. As she walked into the town she saw that the residents were coming out to clean up after the storm and that most of them were far friendlier than the guard. They smiled or nodded to her as she walked down the lane, and she even got some "Hellos" as she passed. She allowed herself to relax a little, while she wasn't letting her guard down Shepard reasoned she could reasonably enjoy a stroll down main street.
Eventually, Shepard came to a house painted blue with a recently shined Mr. Handy policing the yard out front. Having lived in the Mojave desert for over a year and a half she found the sight of the front yard almost novel. She didn't quite know if it was the picket fence, the well-maintained grass, or the fussy Mr. Handy that made the sight odd. Probably a mix of the three she conceded.
"Excuse me," She said, drawing the robot's eyestalk up to look at her.
"Hello mum, how can I help you?" It asked in a stereotypical British accent.
"I'm supposed to see the General about travel papers?" Shepard said, watching as the Mr. Handy's arms spun around aimlessly.
"Oh of course!" It said, its happy voice crackling with apparent excitement. "Miss Nora one is out checking on the other residents after the storm. I shall send her a message that a traveler needs her assistance post haste."
"Thank you, that would be…great," Shepard said, trailing off as she registered the name and the modifier to it. "Did you say Nora one?"
"Why yes, mum," The Mr. Handy said. "My owners are both named Nora you see, and it's quite easier on my old circuits to distinguish between them by numbering them."
"More than one…Nora," Shepard said, her mind racing as she recalled the name of the woman they were trying to "rescue" from the vault. "Are either of these Noras a lawyer by chance? A lawyer who owned this house before the bombs fell?"
"Oh yes, though it agitates my logic circuits to no end, both Miss Nora one and Miss Nora two owned this home before the bombs fell," The robot explained. "And both hold a law degree from the Suffolk county school of law, lot of good it does them in this day and age.
"You have got to be kidding me," Shepard said, her heart sinking. "Not again."
"Is something the matter, Mum?" The robot asked.
"Nothing's the matter, Cogsworth," A warm welcoming voice said from behind Shepard.
She turned to see a dark-skinned woman standing behind her. Dressed in a reinforced leather duster and fine travel clothes the woman radiated cool confidence as she smiled at Shepard. Their eyes met and Shepard could feel the experience and age behind this woman's dark green eyes as they sized one another up. Shepard's intuition was all but screaming what this woman was.
"I think she's dealt with travelers from other universes before."
Alena usually didn't like crowds. She'd been raised in the comfortable isolation of the great north, an outcast in the even more isolated tribe her mother had been born to. Coming south and to New Vegas had thrown her into a melting pot of people that often threatened to overwhelm her. Even after living in the city for so long, Alena still avoided the most crowded places.
Yet as she and her family made took their seats in the crowded declaration hall of the Mojave's central government building, Alena couldn't help but enjoy the buzz of the day. A special holiday had been declared all across the Mojave, schools were let out and almost every business was closed saved for the most vital of services. All so every citizen of the United Mojave Republic could see the moment the peoples of Earth took their first steps towards surpassing the old world. And Alena was sitting in the front row with her aunt and her…well she didn't know quite what to call Jack.
"You doing okay, kid?" Jack asked as they watched Shard council and Mojave technicians ready the holographic arrays that would connect the council to its newest representative. "Because if we need to we can blow this place."
"I'm okay, Jack," Alena said, excitedly shifting in her seat. "Do you think father will let me look at those displays after?"
The displays were arrayed in a two-tiered sequence, a line of five at the back and a line of seven at the front. Each display represented a different councilor on Shard Council, people who lived and worked out among the stars where the gods lived. There was a huge table set up not far from the displays where the Mojave's representatives would sit. She wondered what her stupid uncle would think if he heard that she had not only been to the stars but that her father was going to be the speaker to the stars themselves.
"Maybe," Jack said, smiling at the girl. "Depends on if you do that thing where you puff out your lip and look all sad. He can't resist that."
"It's how I used to get my way," Her aunt Rose said from where she sat on the other side of Jack. "Though I wasn't nearly as adorable as you."
"Um, thanks," Alena said, managing an awkward smile at her wheelchair-bound aunt.
"Though I don't think I was as humble," Rose said, winking at Alena before turning to Jack. "Do you think they'll be arriving soon? My ass is starting to fall asleep."
"Should be anytime now," Jack said, her eyes narrowing at the woman. "Probably should ask how you're doing while I'm at it."
"Oh, I'm doing great!" Rose said, happily bouncing up and down in her wheelchair. "Rexy and Roxy have been taking me out to the market when they can, and this crowd is just like a big market day. All the sights, sounds, and smells of people coming together just makes me excited. Sort of irritates Delilah and Artemis, but they're no fun."
"Are they, uh, listening to us?" Alena asked, only somewhat familiar with her wayward aunt's alternate selves.
"Oh no, they're all deep down in our shared space today," Rose said, nodding. "The only times we, what's the word? Cohabitate? Cohabitate is in times of stress and I'm perfectly calm. How could I not when I'm spending the day with my niece and my sister?!"
"I'm not your sister," Jack said, her expression caught somewhere between amusement and annoyance.
"You're going to marry my brother, aren't you?" Rose asked, innocent mischief in her eyes.
"Yes but-" Jack said before she was cut off by Rose.
"Then you're not my sister yet," Rose said, wrapping her arms around Jack in an excited hug. "But you're going to be!"
Jack's eyes widened and Alena watched as she tensed against Rose. For a moment, Alena thought Jack was going to hit her aunt or at the very least throw her off. Instead, Jack took a deep breath and forced herself to relax, and after a second or two returned the hug. Perhaps not as passionately as Rose, but she returned the affection all the same.
"Sure, whatever you say," Jack said, patting the other woman on the back.
Their moment was interrupted by the sound of the doors at the far side of the hall opening. In an instant, the hall went quiet as the doors swung fully open, and Alena caught a great procession stepping into the hall. With him stood the leaders of the new world he and his companions had built. The burning man of legend, Joshua Graham, stood beside Isabelle Burnrows of the Midwest Brotherhood and Vein of the Turncoat Legion walked with a hulking super mutant as if they were comrades back from campaign. Alena didn't recognize the others, but they bore the insignias of communities and factions scattered across the territories the Mojave claimed as its wards.
At the head of the procession, walking arm in arm were the two leaders who'd brought them all together, Aunt Veronica and Alena's father. In Alena's eyes, the pair glowed, like a warrior queen and her trusted artificer come to deliver their message to the world, no, the universe. Alena couldn't stop the smile as it spread across her face, and when her father's eyes met her's she jumped she waved at him. He and Veronica both waved and as they passed he reached out to squeeze her and Jack's hand before passing them. When the procession reached the table most of them took their seats before Alena's father whispered something in Veronica's ear.
"Ladies and gentlemen," Veronica said as she turned from the procession to address the crowd. "As the head of the Mojave council and the soon-to-be the Mojave Republic, it is my honor to welcome all of you, whether you're in this room or watching from somewhere out in the great wide world, to stand with us on this day of days. We've been through a lot in the last few years, together through battles fought and lessons learned we've grown from a few dozen communities into a nation stretching not just out, but up into the sky as well."
"Today, all we've sacrificed and all we've built has led us here," Veronica continued, gesturing to the displays. "Together we've weathered all the wasteland could throw at us, beaten the jackals at our doors, and drove them back into hell. And now, together as one people, we will take our first steps into the stars. Today, we tell the galaxy that we, the united peoples of Earth, have arrived!"
The crowd cheered at that proclamation and Aunt Veronica let the noise die down before she continued.
"Today, we will officially become part of something larger than any culture of Earth ever aspired to be," Veronica said. "A galactic community built on the tenants of unity and cooperation that wish to welcome us into their fold. Over the last few months, representatives of the Mojave republic have worked alongside our venerable guests to negotiate our entry onto the Shard Council as equals. Negotiations that have assured a position of strength for the Republic and the Earth as a whole. So, without further ado, I think it's time we allow the Earth's representative to the council, our very own Rex Craster, to take the stand and address our neighbors."
The room went quiet as her father rose to his feet, his odd eyes turning to look at the assembled crowd with a bemused expression on his face. He'd been reclusive since the war of the Blight, and most of the Mojave had only heard rumors of his transformation. Her father gave the crowd a puckish grin and winked before turning back to look at the displays. With a slight hum, the displays bloomed to life, motes of light and tendrils of energy coiled together into silhouettes that became crystal clear over a minute.
A slight gasp rolled through the crowd at the sight as members of twelve different alien species appeared in the displays. Alena silently listed each species off in her head starting with the junior council consisting of a Drell, an Asari, an Elcor, a Batarian, a Geth, a Hanar, and one of the oddly birdlike Raloi. Behind them stood representatives of the Senior council consisting of a Krogan, A Turian, a Salarian, a Quarian, and one of the rotund Volus. Altogether, they looked more like a phalanx than a group of diplomats.
Their collective gaze focused on her father, and for a moment he just stared back at them. Her father didn't bow or even nod as they considered him, representatives of all of the peoples who touched the sky as regularly as a wasterlander touched the dirt. The room practically thrummed with tension as the seconds stretched by, and Alena began to wonder if her father had just started an impromptu staring contest when he finally spoke.
"Now that everyone's present," Her father said. "Let's get started."
?
"What…what a pretty name for an angel," Alyssa said, smiling at the kid as she stood. "Since everyone's at service I suppose that means no one's allowed in town, huh?"
"No ma'am," Harry said, nodding. "I'm supposed to write down any travelers who come by and turn them away. Then I give the list to Miss Dorla when she comes to bring me food."
"Miss Dorla?" Roxanne asked, sniffing the air and picking up the scent of citrus on the wind.
"She's the only angel that-" Harry trailed off as his eyes shut and he fell off the chair, asleep before he hit the ground.
Before they could speak, the air over the sleeping boy shimmered and a cloaked figure appeared behind the chair. She wore a thick hooded poncho over skin-tight body armor and as she considered them, Roxanne saw that she wore a full cover gas mask. Boone raised his weapon and Alyssa rolled back to crouch, aiming her shotgun at the masked woman. Who for her part seemed unimpressed by the display.
"You have ten minutes before the wall patrol has a chance to spot you," The woman said, her eyes lingering on the Followers insignia on their arms. "You're aid workers, yes? No one here wants your aid, so turn around and leave before you're seen."
"They might not want our aid, but it looks like they need it," Alyssa said, standing up.
"What they need is irrelevant now," The masked woman said, kneeling to pull the snoozing Harry back onto his chair. "Please, for your safety I insist that you leave this place. Now."
With that, the woman disappeared in a shimmer of distortion.
"Urgm," Harry said, his eyes opening slowly as his breathing quickened.
"I'd recommend you be off beyond the cover of the rocks before the boy wakes completely," The Woman's voice whispered into Roxanne's ear. "You truly don't want to be trapped here."
"Let's follow her advice," Roxanne said, gently taking Alyssa by the arm. "Come on Alyssa. Boone, cover our rear will you?"
"Already on it," Boone said as they started their walk back towards the rocks. "No sentries watching yet, looks like the ones on the walls are throwing rocks at birds."
They made their way back to a craggy outcropping just beyond the grazing grounds and took cover behind the largest of the outcropping's boulders. Alyssa sat down, her back against the rock, as her face morphed into an expression of intense thought. Roxanne knew that face, it was the face she wore when her special brand of fuckery was about to be unleashed.
"So, what's the play?" Boone asked. "That was one of the Asari, yeah? If we're dealing with a coven of tomato succubi then why in hell would one warn us off? Is it because we're dressed like followers or do you think this one has a conscience?"
"Could be," Alyssa said, chewing her lip. "Maybe they don't want to attract attention while they're "feeding", but why put on the bronze mask bit?"
"I imagine it's to keep her features hidden," Roxanne said. "The people in this area were "spared" by Vorhees because they were mostly on board with his policy, yeah? If they're isolating the city I'd imagine they don't want anyone passing by noticing the
red-skinned broads with tentacles for hair. Especially the sort who won't shut up about "purity" and "mutants"."
"Perfect way to hide out if you think about it," Boone said. "If not for the kids out front most would just assume they're just locked down after the Blight."
"Yeah," Alyssa said, standing up. "Needless to say we need to get a message back to the New Vegas. We're not just dealing with a town being turned into a hunting ground anymore, this is a full-scale occupation."
"I agree," Roxanne said, nodding. "This "Rose of the West" sounds like Reaper tech to me. Back on my go-round, I saw whole communities indoctrinated by pieces the size of a rad roach, and if these Asari know how to play with them I suspect it's what's brainwashing the town. I suppose ordering an orbital strike is out of the question?"
"These people are assholes but not total assholes, yeah?" Boone said, shooting her a look.
"Just kidding," Roxanne said. "But we need some back up here."
"Forces are stretched thin delivering aid to the NCR and teleportation is still scrambled," Alyssa said, pacing in circles around Roxanne. "And if we teleport even a small force of Securitrons in nearby they'd spot us for sure. How much you wanna bet the "faithful" will defend the town to the death? Boone, what kind of arsenal do we have on the dropship?"
"Off the top of my head…"Boone said, mentally going over an itinerary. "Hard laser cannons on the bow and stern with bi-directional flak cannons starboard and port. Our personal use sections are kitted out with six molecular demo charges, pulse ordnance, nonlethal crowd control kits, a crate of stealth boy MK IIIs, and everything we need to keep our weapons and armor in shape."
"Hm," Alyssa said, chewing her lip as she started to walk back towards the direction of the dropship.
"She do that often?" Boone asked as they watched her walk.
"Only when she's planning homicide and or destruction of property," Roxanne said, shrugging.
"Oh?" Boone asked as they started to follow.
"Ask her about Paradise Falls sometime," Roxanne said, winking.
?
The General's office was nice all things considered. It had obviously been a spare bedroom once upon a time, but now it was filled with stacks of correspondence and refurbished furniture. Honestly, as Shepard watched Nora pour two cups of coffee she could almost delude herself into thinking this was all normal. Just a local leader serving a weary traveler some coffee to warm her bones before sending her on her way.
"Take anything in your coffee?" Nora asked, gesturing to a small refrigerator beside her desk. "I've got Brahmin cream and some sugar."
"No thanks, I like it black," Shepard said.
"Woman after my own heart," Nora said, sliding Shepard a mug as she took a seat. "You will not believe what these people dump into their coffee. All those prewar scientists went to the trouble of breeding a coffee bean you can grow damn near anywhere, and people ruin it with cream and sugar. I'm glad to meet a kindred spirit, miss?"
"Jane Shepard, but most people just call me Shepard," Shepard said, looking down at the black liquid in the mug before looking back up at Nora. "Thanks for the hospitality and all, but I'd like to skip to the part where you explain who you are and why you're here."
Nora just smiled at Shepard and took a long draw off her coffee and made a show of swishing it in her mouth before swallowing. The older woman settled back into her chair and took her time making herself comfortable before considering Shepard for a long moment. Her expression caught somewhere between sizing up a rival and considering the question of a particularly amusing eight-year-old.
"My name is Nora Blackfire, before the bombs I lived here in Sanctuary Hills, well a Sanctuary Hills, and for around a century I ran the Institute in a universe, timeline, or whatever you'd like to call it parallel to this one," Nora said, an amused look on her face as she considered Shepard. "The same universe Reximus came from if you're wondering."
"Reximus?" Shepard said, affecting a befuddled look.
"Come now sweetie," Nora said, cocking her head a little as she looked at her. "Let's not play coy now, I have it under good authority that you've met Reximus. You know, the red-headed sociopath who spends his evenings smoking cigars and torturing women over a glass of brandy."
"Not ringing any bells," Shepard said.
Nora snapped her fingers which switched on a small TV behind her desk. The grainy image of Tali and Penelope appeared on screen, showing the both of them as they worked on the vault's entry terminal. Shepard looked from the TV to Nora, who was contentedly sipping coffee as she considered Shepard's response.
"Persephone's looking healthy these days," Nora said. "I always marveled at how she could starve herself with a mother who cooked like Mirada did."
Shepard blinked at the admission. Not only was this woman claiming to be more than a century old, but she was also the Nora Reximus had fought a war within his universe. Penelope had been tight-lipped on what her Nora had been like, only that she was meddling and ruled the Institute with an iron fist, pushing the various projects along with her will. Eventually led to a war between Reximus and the rest of the Institute over whether or not Synths were people, and just how to exploit that. If she was telling the truth, then Shepard and the others had walked into enemy territory.
"You look good for a woman who's over a century old," Shepard said, dropping the befuddled look. "And her name's Penelope, not Persephone, neither of us works for Reximus."
"Thank you, sweetie, for the honesty and the compliment, you'd be surprised what a woman can do to keep her looks with all the Institute had to offer," Nora said, patting her cheek. "By the time I got involved they were already extending their lives by decades, and before my hair went completely grey aging was an issue not unlike indigestion. Before you ask, I never partook in Reximus' little brew he made from that old Cabot helmet, I like my sanity and emotions intact, thank you very much."
"Well that's good to know," Shepard said. "I'd hate for a nut job to be in power for a hundred years."
"I just managed the nut jobs," Nora said, shaking her head. "You trap a concentration of geniuses in an underground can eccentricity is inevitable, and mad scientists start growing on the walls like mold."
"Reximus was just such a mold, I'm assuming?" Shepard said.
"Black as they come," Nora said, nodding to herself. "I've dealt with a lot of mad geniuses in my day, hell my son was possibly the worst, but Reximus was the only one who ever threatened full-scale war. Such a brilliant mind warped by the world he was born into, Reximus would have been a good man if Shaun hadn't made him his protege. How's the little sociopath doing by the way? Dead I hope."
"He's dead, his wife killed him while we were breaching his stronghold," Shepard said, watching a slight tremor of pleasure pass through Nora as she processed the information.
"Good for her, she always deserved better," Nora said, licking her lips. "But if Reximus is dead then just who are you working for? Penelope is a bright girl, but with the damage, her father's done I highly doubt she's in command."
"Before I answer that finish answering my question, tell me how you got here and why you're here in the first place?" Shepard said.
"Fair enough," Nora said, raising her cup and taking another swig before continuing. "The device I used to send Reximus and his little army away also created a chance for me to bow out of my position, peacefully. For a society built around logic and intellect, you'd be surprised how often emotional vendettas boil over, especially against the bitch who's been in power for a century. So, I took a chance to leave, start fresh, in a whole other universe without the weight of history weighing me down. Little did I know, I'd end up in the commonwealth a little over six years before my first jaunt through the muck."
"Reximus ended up in the west, how'd you end up here?" Shepard asked.
"We never quite got it working, no one was interested in it since it was inert and could theoretically rip open a multiversal singularity," Nora explained, rolling her eyes at the thought. "You know somethings scary if an army of mad scientists shies away from it."
"Must be nice," Shepard said.
"Spoken like a woman who's had to smother a few pet projects in her time," Nora said, chuckling. "Anyways, the device required a specific person, an icon it called them, that's tied to some major event in the timeline. Something about how in every timeline there are events that will always happen and there will always be an Icon to tip the scales, affect the outcome of the event. Constants to balance variables. Only said Icon can make the device's core work and open up the multiverse. When I stepped into this universe it brought me close to the icon of this universe, the other me sleeping in vault 111."
And brought Reximus in spitting distance of Rex. Shepard thought. Without Rex to break the Hoover dam stalemate, I wonder how it played out in his universe?
"As to why I'm here, simply put I'd like to have another play through if that makes sense," Nora said, her smile hardening a bit. "I made…mistakes on my run and allowed some very bad things to happen, to continue on my watch. Trust me, I'm not here to hurt anyone who doesn't deserve a little pain coming their way. This time around I'm uniting the Minutemen around an actual foundation and pushing back the wasteland. A hundred years is a long time to consider your actions, but enough about that. Where do you hail from, Jane?"
"I thought you wanted to know who I'm working for?" Shepard asked, raising an eyebrow.
"I do, but considering you just
listened to the absolute lunacy that is my life's story I'm assuming you're not from around here yourself," Nora explained. "Maybe it's a woman's intuition, but I don't think you're from this version of Earth at all."
"Am I that obvious?" Shepard said, chuckling darkly. "I'm not even from Earth, where I come from we've been in space for near a century and I, like a lot of people, was raised on space stations and naval ships. Didn't touch proper "earth" until I was in my twenties."
"Navy Brat then?" Nora asked, chuckling softly.
"Born and raised," Shepard said proudly.
"My late husband was an army man himself," Nora said.
"I'm sorry to hear he's-"
"Don't be," Nora said, raising a hand to stop her mid-sentence. "Nate was a good man, but oblivious and marrying him was the only way I was allowed into law school. Lots of rules against "immoral" individuals assuming positions of power like being a lawyer in my time."
"Oh that happened in my timeline too," Shepard said, nodding reluctantly. "Lavender scare in the 1940s-50s."
"Well imagine if the lavender scare never ended," Nora said, rolling her eyes. "Sometimes I appreciate the bombs falling, just a little bit."
"You know, you're surprisingly forthcoming for a woman with your…past," Shepard said.
"I'm one hundred and thirty-seven years old," Nora said, pursing her lips. "Subterfuge is for the young and or the patient. Oh, by the way, you might want to radio up to your girls that there's no one left in the vault. No one alive anyway."
"Because it would have been too easy to find what we were looking for, now wouldn't it?" Shepard said, deciding to take the woman at her word for a moment. "Say, where did you get that footage of Penelope any way? I didn't see any cameras on my walk-in, obvious or otherwise."
"You might want to get into bird watching," Nora said. "The Institute has surveillance drones disguised as birds all over the area, and when I'm not jamming then I tap into the feed from time to time. Just so happened to check this morning, and who do I see but Reximus' little monster herself. Stomping around in my territory and snooping around the vault. Care to tell me why?"
"The birds…aren't real?" Shepard said, blinking as she came to terms with the idea.
"Most of them are if that helps," Nora said. "And most of the "flock" as it were went west for whatever reason, so don't get too paranoid, sweetie."
"Oh," Shepard said, remembering the crow she'd thought was watching her months back. "That doesn't make me feel any better."
"Eh, you get used to it," Nora said, taking another sip of her coffee. "It's amazing what the Institute, even at this stage, is capable of. Fortunately for me, I know all their tricks from my first go-round and have decided to run a little interference. So don't you worry that pretty little head about getting spied on while you're telling me who you work for and what you were looking for in the vault?"
"Ah, thought I'd avoided that," Shepard said, rolling her eyes. "While I can't be as forthcoming as you, I can say I represent an honest to god country to the west, the Mojave Republic. They're the power on this continent, this entire planet if we're being honest, and it's through them that I met Reximus. He tried to stage an invasion of the Mojave and kidnapped their leader to force an alliance. We beat them, and in the process, we ended with Penelope joining the team."
"Meaning she told you that this version of the institute may just have a trans universal device of their own," Nora said, running her tongue over her teeth. "So, you're looking for a way home, and the only way to do that is through the Institute and the vault. Which means you need me, well, this universe's me who was sleeping in the vault. Clever."
"The Mojave's working to unite what's left of the world," Shepard said. "If what you say is true, and you're looking to unite the Mintuemen, to truly turn the commonwealth into something worthwhile then they may just be your best bet. Work with me and I can get connect you to their leadership, and from there they can help you build the Minutemen anew."
"Well, that's quite the pitch," Nora said. "But I do have one question."
"What?" Shepard asked.
"I knew Reximus for a long time," Nora explained. "In all that time, I noticed a pattern with how he dealt with his enemies. Generally quick, calculated strikes meant to do maximum damage. Unless you were someone he both hated and respected enough, then he'd kidnap them and use every little psycho trick he had to twist you into one of his little playthings. Reximus was insane, his love and affection crossed with hatred and venom, it was sort of cute in a sociopathic way. It occurs to me that in an alien universe there's only one person Reximus could hate and or respect enough to kidnap was himself. How am I doing?"
"He goes by Rex in this universe," Shepard said. "And he's nothing like Reximus, at all."
"I hope not," Nora said, after another swig of her coffee. "It'd be a pity if sociopathy was the constant across universes. Hm, you know I am inclined to lend a hand to a fellow multiversal displaced sister a hand, but I'd like a…substantive gesture first."
"One could be arranged depending on your definition of substantive," Shepard said.
"I want a meeting," Nora said. "With Rex."