Chapter 2

The nine hours went by slowly. In the beginning, Jessica had peered out through the small round window, watching the brown and grey world turn slowly far beneath their feet. She found herself mesmerized by how high they were off the ground, and how small and different everything looked. Canyons, mountains, and forests became blots of color and texture in an unending ocean of scarred brown earth. She wondered how often pre-war travelers had flown, and whether they took for granted the miraculous nature of the experience.

Eventually, however, the novelty had worn off, and her attentions were attracted back to the interior of the vertibird. She, Cassidy, and Arcade passed some time playing Caravan. First with eachother, then with a few of the NCR Rangers, most of whom had been silent, or muttering quietly to one another.

Jessica, for the first time in a long time, was very nearly beaten at cards by a clever soldier with a solid deck of sixes, eights, and tens, but she managed to scrape a win by working around him and using her facecards to discard entire caravan piles, to the general entertainment of the crowd. Eventually that died as well. Boredom overtook her and she got as comfortable as she could, planted Boone's First Recon beret over her eyes, and nodded off to sleep, lulled by the steady whir of the rotors, and the comforting hum of the engines.

Several hours later, she felt a hand on her shoulder, stirring her to wakefulness. She clumsily reach up and pulled Boone's beret off, gripping it tightly in her fist. Lieutenant Savage was staring down at her with his beady little eyes. "Ma'am, we should be entering Capital airspace shortly."

"Thank Christ." Cassidy exclaimed.

Jessica yawned and stretched, feeling her joints click as they moved for the first time in hours. Savage let go of her shoulder and moved up towards the cockpit.

Jessica glanced out the window and saw only darkness, "What are we flying over?"

"Passed West Virginia around an hour ago." Arcade told her.

"Anything interesting down there?"

"Nope." Cass said.

"Human beings were not meant to sit for this long at once." Arcade said, rising to his feet to stretch his legs.

Jessica turned and peered out the porthole again. The sky outside was a deep, dark shade of blue, dancing with shimmering stars, and she could see nothing but blackness beneath them.

"In, then out." She said, exchanging a smile with her companions. She could hear Savage speaking to the pilot, so rose to her feet and tiptoed through the crates and supplies, following the lieutenant through a small open door into the cockpit.

"What's happening?"

"Take a seat, ma'am." Savage instructed, waving her away,

"Sure." Jessica planted herself down on a spare seat behind the pilot. Savage gave her a dry glare. She smiled sweetly.

"I meant back in the cargo hold." He told her. "You're just a guest, Ma'am. How about you let us do our jobs."

"I'm just here to help, Lieutenant. She assured him amiably.

A speaker squawked to life, and static filled the cockpit. Yet hidden within the white noise were perceptible patterns. Gibberish, but very close to human speech. The copilot shifted excitedly, twisting various knobs and dials across the wide console. "Lieutenant, we're picking up a radio signal."

"Let's hear it." Savage said.

After a moment of adjustment, a wonderful baritone voice filled the cockpit. "Wheeeel hello Children. This is your host, Three-Dog! And I'm bringing you the Truth, no matter how bad it hurts."

"Three Dog?" Savage frowned.

"Maybe a prewar thing?" the pilot asked.

"Sounds new." Jessica said.

"Now just a friendly reminder, children: We've come a looong way. But as our fearless Leader says, we've got a whole lot more ta go. We may have survived the mutie horde, but the Enclave, yao guai, radscorpions, deathclaws… they're all still alive and a'kickin'. Worst of all, that Bringer of Sorrow, that Consort of Discord, that Instrument of Ruin, that Agent of Chaos – Jason Howlett – The Lone Wanderer is still at large.

Now children, I know, I know: some of you are still on the fence about that so-called Man and his so-called Legacy. Don't worry: the Leader doesn't blame you. You were scared! You- you were desperate! And in your desperation you turned to the one creature we need to purge from this earth! I did too. I did too. But Children, we have to accept a simple truth: If this Great Nation of ours is ever going to flourish. If it's truly going to rise, we need to rid ourselves of the Garbage of the Apocalypse. That includes the super-human Child of the Atom. As the Leader says, the Wasteland is for Humanity, and for Humanity alone. Stay strong, Children. And stay informed on Vox radio!"

With that, the voice was gone, replaced with the dulcet tones of the Ink Spots' "I Don't Want to Set the World on Fire"

Silence fell over the cockpit.

Jason Howlett… the name sounded vaguely familiar.

"Local politics." Savage grunted, "Let's not get involved. Shut it off."

The copilot obeyed and silence fell across the vertibird's interior.

"In my experience it often pays to know a little bit about a situation." Jessica said mildly.

"Did not ask for your input." The Lieutenant grunted.

"Just trying to help." Jessica replied.

"Uhh… Lieutenant?" the pilot said nervously as something on his console started to ping.

"Look, I didn't ask for you to be on this mission." Savage said shortly. "Just let us do our jobs and you'll get home safe."

Jessica heard Cass cough in the adjoining cargo bay, and knew the soldier's statement had been heard. "Lieutenant, my team had I have a wealth of experience in these sorts of situations and I am a diplomat. It might be best if we work together…"

"Lieutenant?"

Savage held up a finger to silence Jess, and turned back to the pilot. "What?"

"We've got incoming!"

The bottom of Jessica's stomach dropped out as the pilot took sudden evasive action, iddping and swerving to the left – or was it to port? Either way, Savage grabbed her by the shoulder and shoved her back into her seat. The darkness outside was lit up by tracer rounds, and she could hear swearing and yelling as the back of their vertibird was peppered with 5mm minigun ammunition.

"What the hell's happening?" Savage yelled, fighting to his own seat, even as Jessica fumbled to strap herself in. he was doing the same for himself.

"We're taking fire," the pilot replied over the ringing of the bullets, "thank god these VTOL things come with thick armour!"

No sooner had he spoken then a louder bang rang out, and the interior was filled with a sudden draft. The window in front of the copilot turned bright red and he slumped forward onto his controls. Alarms began bleating loudly and the entire vertibird lurched to the right, pitching into a spiral.

"Get it under control!" Savage ordered as the pilot struggled with his joystick.

"I can't!" he shouted as another louder shot rang out, blowing out several window panel in front of her. In the rear of the vertibird, Jessica could hear Cass swearing her head off.

There was another mechanical noise and a puff of electrical sparks from one of the veritbird's rotors. The vehicle began spinning rapidly, descending towards the earth at high speed. The inertia sucked at Jessica, pulling her from her seat, even as her straps kept her in place. There was more screaming and confusion in the rear and she could hear the sounds of straps breaking and containers crashing and banging around the interior of the vehicle. The wind blowing through the smashed windshield blinded her and sucked the air from her lungs.

The last thing she heard was the pilot shouting, "Brace for impact!"

Sunlight shone brightly through her closed eyelids. Jessica groaned and shifted, trying to open her eyes, but the sun shone abnormally bright. She reached up with her left hand to try and shield her face against its heat and glare, but grimaced as her elbow and shoulder both checked in, registering extreme pain.

She tried to rise, but could feel the safety harness holding her in place. On top of that, her entire body lit up with a horrendous ache.

She forced her eyes open. The nose of the Vertibird was buried in hot, dry, dusty sand, which had poured into the cockpit through the smashed canopy. Breathing in the dust caused Jessica to cough violently, which only made her chest hurt even more.

Both pilots were slumped over their controls, immobile. The co-pilot had a giant black hole between his shoulder blades. Savage was there as well, one eye was staring into space with an empty dead look. Most of the rest of his face was missing entirely.

Well not missing… just spread across that side of the cockpit. A fair amount was spread across her head and chest as well.

With her right arm, Jessica fished in the pocket of her Courier duster for the switchblade she always kept there. It came in useful – mostly for cutting food during meals, but sometimes she used it for lockpicking in lieu of a flat head screwdriver.

She nearly fumbled it with sore, aching fingers, but managed to keep her grip and snap it open. She sawed awkwardly at her safety harness until it tore through and she was able to shrug it off. She gingerly slid sideways off of the seat and onto the dusty floor of the crashed aircraft, battling with her own protesting joints as she rolled onto her stomach.

The backend of the aircraft was wide open, and she could see out along a lengthy trench of blackened soil. Her head spun and a wave of nausea halted her progress, and she shut her eyes, resting her head against the cool deck.

She lost herself momentarily in a fog, but it passed as quickly as it came, and she opened her eyes again to take stock.

There were several dead NCR rangers still strapped into their seats. Cass and Arcade were both missing, as were seven to ten of the rangers and most of the gear. Her pack was missing as well, and there was no sign whatsoever of any of the supply boxes which the NCR had spent all the previous morning packing.

God… the NCR… down a vertibird and a half-dozen troops already…

How were they even going to tow the robot back without three?

No matter… one step at a time.

Knowing how the NCR trained and outfitted their desert rangers, Jessica scrambled on her knees and one elbow over to the nearest corpse. She planted her working arm on the seat and pushed herself upwards so she could collapse on the bench beside her target. The effort left her breathless and exhausted, and her chest flared up with stingin pain whenever she breathed too deeply. Her left arm was worse than useless and she kept it tucked into her side as she searched the small survival pack which she knew was attached to the duster of every NCR desert ranger.

This particular one had been slit open on the side, and emptied.

She began to notice other small details, such as the footprints in the dust, and the garbage which was strewn across the inside of the aircraft. She felt a cold tingle creep down her spine as she realized that someone had already pilfered the downed vertibird and stripped it of anything useful.

That was when she heard the footsteps. Multiple people tramping their way towards her, hidden from view. Harsh voices reached her ears.

"Ah'm telling ya, Bloodbeard, the Vox already bin ovah dis crash site. We gotta move, man! We can't be heyah when da Talon Company or dah Enclave show up. Why ah we doin' dis?"

Jessica reached down for her sidearm and realized that it was missing too. She swore quietly and grabbed her switchblade instead, hiding it in her sleeve.

"Shaddap Lagbolt!" a deeper voice answered, "Just keep an eye out, eh? Dey always miss sumfin!"

A silhouette blocked the rear entrance. Jessica could make out a Mohawk and a combat shotgun. He was dressed in rags.

A fiend? What were fiends doing out east? No matter – drugs and violence were their stock and trade, and they weren't very bright. Easy levers to pull to for an even moderately resourceful wanderer. Jessica just had to survive the first thirty seconds.

The figure edged into the interior, the tip of his shotgun leading the way, freezing when he spotted Jessica, who remained as motionless as possible, leaning against the NCR corpse.

"Help me…" she whispered hoarsely.

"Uhh… boss?" the fiend called out. She could see his face, lit faintly by the light coming through the vertibird's broken canopy. He had blond hair and a pair of lovely blue eyes. He was watching her with a sort of dull curiosity, hid mouth hanging open. Jessica could tell by the looseness of his movements and the glazed expression on his face that he was high on something. Probably Med-X, as most other drugs made people more aggressive.

"Whatcha found, Tadpole?" called the deeper voice.

"There's a live one." The man raised his combat shotgun. "Don't you fuckin' move!"

"Haha I told ya they always leave sumthin behind!" the deep voice hooted. The light was blocked again by a second larger shape; naked from the waist-up save for an enormous bandoleer. The man had broad shoulders with scraggly hair and a bushy red beard, stained with ichor. He saw Jessica and froze.

"Holy sheeyat!" he looked her up and down with hungry eyes, taking in her pale skin, and soft, sweeping curtain of dark hair. He pushed Tadpole to the ground as he bulled forwards. As if a dam had collapsed, Jessica felt an old, familiar fear wash through her. As one who spent most of her time on the Strip, it was easy to forget how uncivilized parts of the world could be. Men wanted her. That was the reality of being beautiful. Usually it meant free drinks and an attentive, pliable audience. But far from civilization it meant something very different, and far more sinister.

The man named Bloodbeard was against her, lifting her by the shoulders and fumbling with his belt.

"Let me go!" Jessica ordered as he pressed her up against the bulkhead. His breath was hot and foul against her neck. "Don't touch me!" Jessica normally kept far better control of her ability, but the words slipped out, borne of desperation and fear. That is not what the raider heard, though. Her voice threatened untold horrors and unimaginable pain. Bloodbeard suddenly leapt backwards like a scalded cat and stared at her in shock, even as she fell back against the seat, cough, and curling up defensively.

"Well…" he said uncertainly, "well fuck you, then!" face twisting in rage, he wrenched the combat shotgun from Tadpole's unresisting grasp and turned it on Jessica.

"Shoot me and you'll never know where the other Vertibird is!" she snapped.

Very slowly, his finger loosened from the trigger he had been pulling. The raider stared down the barrel of the combat shogun at her. "What are you sayin'?"

"There were three of us." She explained. "The other two… they have chems. Guns." All ripe for the taking… "I know where they're going…"

Bloodbeard hesitated a moment longer, glancing from her to Tadpole and back.

Jessica smiled at him. "Let's make a deal, Bloodbeard. You help me, and I help you."

Tadpole was tasked with helping her to her feet. Still wearing a wide-eyed, red-cheeked expression of awe, the young raider shared some putrid brown water with her. He put her good arm carefully around his shoulder. His touch was surprisingly gentle and light, and wherever she touched him, she left goosebumps. Noting his growing infatuation, Jessica let her fingers wander a little, caressing his shoulder whenever Bloodbeard wasn't looking in their direction, and gently massaging his neck and back. His eyes went half-lidded in response, and after a short time a goofy grin had spread across his face. Every so often, Jessica would shoot him a teasing, encouraging smile.

Bloodbeard had retrieved Boone's beret from the floor of the vertibird and slipped it onto his head. It bothered Jessica immensely to see that item being pressed into service of someone so vile, but she said nothing.

With Tadpole's assistance, she limped out of the vertibird and into the light of day. A third raider was standing above the trench, hunting rifle in hand. He was a tall, sharp-eyed man with a bright blue goatee.

"Who's dis?"

"Just a prisoner, Lagbolt."

"She's pretty."

"We got a deal worked out." Bloodbeard grunted. "No touching." He turned back and shoved a finger in Jessica's face. "You better not be fucking with us, Cunt!"

"Wouldn't dream of it." Jessica replied, noting the quiet anger in Tadpole's eyes.

They climbed to the top of the crater, Tadpole doing most of the heavy lifting, and Jessica was finally able to see where she was.

The wind carried a foul, chemical smell, and the Geiger counter on her pipboy ticked quietly for a few seconds. Everything the sunlight touched seemed to be permeated with a brown and green glow. Craters and canyons scarred the landscape for miles, and Jessica could see copses of thick dead trees.

Crumbled buildings dotted the countryside, some large and some small. She could see collapsed overpasses with piles of rusted cars. Sections of road criss-crossed the wasteland, leading from nowhere to nowhere. Beyond it all, on the horizon was a city, with hundreds – thousands of buildings, each of them the size of a New Vegas casino. Their windows were blown out and they seemed to lean against each other as if they could barely support their own weight.

Somewhere in there was House's robot, Liberty Prime.

Jessica wondered where Cass and Arcade were, and whether or not they were okay. She hoped so, but she had more pressing problems.

The combat shotgun pressed into her back. Behind her, Bloodbeard grunted. "Get moving."

One problem at a time.

For those who want to catch up, Pro Posterus is a shorter Fallout story I wrote a while ago to introduce the Courier, Jessica. I'm looking forward to seeing how her Speech/Barter/Charisma heavy power set plays out in the Capital Wasteland where Violence is king.

What is it with me leaving my main characters lost and alone in a hostile environment? I'd like to believe I'm not a one-trick pony, but I seem to favor a few tropes very heavily.