Chapter 5
The Legionaries approached them slowly, weapons holstered. They were clearly just a standard patrol. One thing Jessica had to grudgingly admit: areas controlled by the Legion were peaceful, in their own way. But she had always found fear to be a rather unimaginative way to motivate people.
Making someone do what you wanted was not a difficult task. Nor did it require much skill. Any thug with a big enough weapon and enough allies could force anyone to do almost anything. Helping people discover that they're goals were exactly the same as yours - that took skill. Having others do what you wanted and walk away liking you, or feeling like they got one over you – that took skill.
Beside her, Corporal Seamus shifted uncomfortably. Jessica shot him an inquisitive look.
"We ain't always got along so well with the Vox…" the young man admitted.
"Some of us, at any rate." Sergeant Booster elaborated.
"What happened?" she asked.
"Jackrum hates'em." Spadge supplied. "But most of 'em is just Wasters so we can't shoot'em."
"There've been some flare ups, though." Seamus said, "The entire Wasteland is a powder keg. If we weren't so busy holding off the enclave, we'd probably be at war with'em right now."
"They ain't that bad." Booster said as the column of legionaries wound their way through the rocks and trees towards them.
"Why don't you join'em Sarge?" Seamus shot back.
"Cos I'm Talon Company, through and through. I just don't mind what they're doing…"
"Just keep your weapons down, please," Jessica said gently, "there's no reason to fight."
Spadge chuckled. "Who said you need a reason?"
"People never fight without a good reason."
"Oh, you're definitely not from around here, lady."
Jessica stepped forward as the Decanus approached, raising her open hands in greeting, "Ave, sum amicus. I'm a friend."
The man stopped in his tracks and glanced backwards at his followers. Behind her, the Talon company mercs were staring at the courier in stunned silence. The feathers of the Decanus' helmet fluttered gently as he looked her up and down. "Ave, dissolute. Where do you hail from?"
"And how in hell do you know their weirdo language?" Spadge demanded before Seamus shushed him into silence.
"West," said Jessica, And that's all you need to know…
The decanus nodded thoughtfully. He pointed his rifle at the three mercenaries behind Jessica. "You travel with profligates. Poor company."
"Call us that again." Corporal Seamus challenged, reaching for his weapon.
"Quiet." Jessica snapped backwards. The merc stepped back, cowed. She turned back towards the Decanus. "I've learned to travel without fear in most territory held under Pax Romana, but this is still wild country and I am paying these men to protect me."
"What is your business in Megaton?" the Decanus asked suspiciously. His warriors were standing at his side.
"Just looking for a place to rest and eat." Jessica said. "I've come a long way."
She couldn't see the man's eyes behind his dark goggles but she knew he was sizing her up. He stepped aside and pointed at Megaton. "Vale. Be on your way."
"Thank you."
The legionaries let them pass without any further questions, but Jessica noted the glares exchanged between the Mercs and the Legion soldiers.
Her small band circled the outside of the town, passing some dead molerats along the way until they reached the entrance itself. Several human guards in the distinctive red armour were posted out front, Chinese assault rifles in hand. The powerful assault rifles had never actually made far enough west for Jessica to encounter them in the Mojave, but they were almost a personification of this place and its people: rugged, vicious, and shockingly powerful. Beside the guards was a securitron's carcass. Far above their heads a sniper in Legion gear patrolled a catwalk. It was a very well-fortified town, made to withstand the worst of the Wasteland. If Nipton or Nelson had been half as well fortified, Caesar's Legion would have found their advances across the western bank much, much more difficult.
Then again, maybe not; it hadn't helped keep the Legion out of Megaton.
Whirring motors above her head shook and shuddered into gear, lifting the town's heavy metal doors.
"Hey…" Sergeant Booster said, "Okay so… we're here."
The other two mercs shifted expectantly.
Jessica smiled. "Yes of course." She dug out the Jet first and handed it to Spadge, then counted out thirty caps for each of them.
Seamus held out a hand, "Good to travel with you miss Chase! You ever end up in Fort Bannister, look us up."
"I certainly will! Thank you for everything."
"Alright, move out." Booster ordered, and the three mercs marched away. Jessica gave them one last wave, then turned and stepped into the town of Megaton.
Jessica had never seen anything like this place. The words 'Shanty Town' didn't even begin to describe it. Most settlements in the Mojave were built from preexisting homesteads. Enough old world structures were scattered across the Mojave that the desert residents really did not need to build anything. It was too easy to forget that no bombs had actually fallen on Vegas.
The Capital Wasteland, on the other hand, had been the epicenter of several bombs. According to Mister House, one Chinese nuke had hit squarely on top of the White House itself in the middle of Washington. Of course people would be forced to move out of the ruins, and build their own settlements, but what startled and impressed Jessica about Megaton was its verticality. It made perfect sense to her: stacked buildings took up less room, and they were able to build an entire town in a very small area which was easily defended, and even had a permanent water supply in the centre. But it meant Catwalks, ramps and stairways were everywhere, crisscrossing the town.
They had a generator somewhere – strings of Christmas lights and small billboards lit the common areas and advertised businesses such as the Brass Lantern and Craterside Supply. Directly across town was an enormous sign with white paint, reading: Nova's Saloon. None of the advertisments had anything on even the most basic signs in Vegas, but for a moment Jessica was comforted; it was a little taste of home.
The townsfolk were plentiful, and around a third of them were wearing bright blue vault suits. There was also a fair amount of red Legion armour in the crowds. A building opposite the Brass Lantern in the centre of town was heavily guarded – probably a Legion garrison. The black Deathclaw flag Jessica had seen on approach was sticking out of the top of a two-story building immediately to her left.
Jessica made her way slowly down to the centre of town. An enormous bomb was planted at an angle in the middle of the crater, right in the middle of the pool. As she approached, her pipboy's Geiger counter spiked, and she backed away, searching for a way up to the saloon. Bars and Saloons, particularly crowded ones, were a sources of information. Not to mention people. She had met Cass in a bar at the NCR's southern Mojave outpost.
In comparison to the empty wasteland, the bustling town was welcomed breath of fresh air. All the same, the presence of the Legion worried her, as did its clear connection to the Vox. If Cass and Boone had been captured by the Legion, it could only mean bad things for-
Arcade! If Cass and Arcade had been captured by the Legion…
Jessica pressed her lips together in a thin line and shut her eyes, remembering the feeling of his lips on hers, and his hands running down her back. He was so frail in that hospital bed, burned and irradiated beyond saving.
Her hand found her side, where a cazadore had pierced her abdomen. It had been a serious injury, and early enough in her adventures that House had not paid for the Monocyte upgrades yet.
Boone had been so calm under fire, methodically taking the bugs out as she crawled back to him. He had finished them off, carried her to the nearest empty home, and treated her wounds with warm, strong hands. Oddly it had been one of Jessica's better nights outside New Vegas. All she had to do was lie there, tripping on med-x, stimpacks, and cazadore venom, watching the muscles in his arms and shoulders flex as he worked to take care of her with that patient attentive expression…
She missed his quiet strength. She had never been afraid, traveling with him, and his steady hand. In the weeks following his death, she had caught herself, during the more violent moments, listening instinctively for the comforting crack of his sniper rifle, and feeling that cold abyss open up within her when she didn't hear it.
"Hey - hey miss, you okay?" A hand touched her shoulder.
Jessica blinked and looked up. A bearded man with a headwrap and an eyepatch gave her a friendly smile.
"I'm fine, thanks." Jessica sniffed and gathered her courier's duster a little closer around herself. The Mojave was always warm, but as night fell here, it grew surprisingly chilly.
"Name's Billy. Billy Creel."
"Jessica Chase." Jessica waved at the surrounding buildings, "New town and all. I'm just…a little overwhelmed."
Billy smiled warmly. He said, "a newcomer, eh? Well don't worry: Megaton is the best little town you'll find in the Capital Wasteland. Strong walls, strong people, and strong booze. We've got everything you need to make a life these days."
"Speak of strong booze." Jessica gave him a wry smile and cocked her thumb at Nova's Saloon.
"Say no more!" Creel said jovially. He led her up the maze of ramps towards the saloon entrance.
"So what brings you to Megaton, Jessica?"
"I'm looking for some information and maybe someone to travel with…" Jessica told him.
"What information?"
"I'm here to visit the Pentagon." Cassidy and Boone – Arcade – were top priority, but she couldn't say that yet. Not without knowing where the man's loyalties lay, and how loose his tongue was. Not when the Legion seemed to carry such influence here.
Creel looked confused. "The Pentagon?"
"The Brotherhood of Steel."
"Ahh…you mean the Citadel…" his face fell, "you're a little late."
"What do you mean? Did they leave?"
Billy pulled her aside to let a group of Legion soldiers pass. "They died. The goddamned muties slaughtered them."
"Oh…" Jessica frowned. She felt mildly disappointed, and relieved Veronica was not present. In truth, the Brotherhood would never work anyway. Isolationists always found that they were short on friends when such connections were most needed. Stuck with their narrow mindset, the Brotherhood were doomed. All chapters, anywhere. Without redefining themselves from the ground up, they would always, inevitably, be doomed. She asked, "Is the Citadel still standing?"
"Most of it I think." Billy said as they reached the top ring of walkways. "Why? You some kind of treasure hunter?"
"A prospector." It was as good a cover as any.
There was a crash as they approached the saloon. Billy slowed and shook his head. "Aww shit…"
The door burst open and spilled six men onto the gallery, right in front of Jessica and Billy.
"Geroff me ya fuckahs!" A wiry, ageing, bearded man in heavily patched leather armour rose to his feet, swaying from side to side. His feet were steady, though, as were his raised fists and broad shoulders. The others were all Legionaries – young recruits with fire in their eyes. One rose and charged the older man, but he kicked out and hit the younger man in the balls, following up with a second boot to the chin, knocking the young man to the ground. He tackled another and planted his knee in the young fighter's chest, pounding relentlessly on his face, knocking out a few teeth.
"Surrender, profligate!" two more legionaries bore the old fighter to the ground, freeing their ally. The five men grappled with eachother for a few minutes until the old fighter was finally over-powered, with the other four barely holding him down. A crowd had spilled out of the saloon to watch the entertainment.
"Got ta hell ya fuckin' brainwashed shitbags!" he yelled, slurring half the words.
Billy Creel slapped his plan against his forehead. "Jesus, Jericho…"
One of the Legionaries pulled out a billy club. Another produced a switchblade.
Jessica decided to intervene, tapping one legionary on the shoulder, "excuse me."
"Don't get involved," Creel groaned, "Jericho makes problems for himself."
"Step away, dissolute," the legionary ordered, "this Profligate needs to be taught a lesson."
"There's no need for further violence, though," Jessica gave the young man a disarming smile and he lowered his swithcblade, "you gentlemen have better things to do with your evening."
"This isn't the first time." The legionary said.
"There's more than one way to skin a cat."
"I'll fuckin' skin these fuckahs- Ow Fuck you!" the man named Jericho spat a gob of blood-filled phlegm at the legionary sitting on his chest
"Silence!" the Legionary hit Jericho again and shook his fist.
"Let me try," Jessica said, placing her fingers gently on the young man's forearm. He seemed to relax, and the other legionaries paused in their assault. The downed man kept struggling, though.
"Just step back, leave it to me. You can trust me." Jessica gave him another smile, and stepped past him to the Legionaries holding down Jericho. She ignored the onlookers and crouched beside him.
The man named Jericho stared up at her, blood pouring from his nose. "Who da fuck are you?"
Jessica grinned at him and nodded towards the angry soldiers. "Right now I'm the one saving your sorry ass."
"Yeah? I could take'em."
"And then what? The rest of them from all over town come by."
"Yeah!"
"With hunting rifles."
"…yeah…"
"Do you even have a gun?" Jessica asked. "How long do you think you'll last?"
"I… fuck." Jericho laid back against the cold metal catwalk. He finally stopped struggling, and the soldier loosened his grip.
"Alright…" Jessica gently ushered the soldiers back, and Jericho sat up, pinching his nose. "Aww Fug!"
"He's your responsibility," one of the soldiers told her, "see that he stays out of trouble or we'll be back for him."
"I will. Thank you for your mercy. Vale." She waved at them and helped the ageing man to his feet.
"I could'a taken'em!" Jericho declared, glaring at the retreating soldiers. He stank of cheap whiskey.
"I don't doubt it." Jessica replied, directing him back into the bar as the crowd slowly dispersed, their street theatre having run its course.
Billy Creel watched her in stunned silence for a moment longer, then walked slowly to his house to pack. He had a long ttrip ahead of him. Hidden nearby, a pale figure in a dapper pinstrip suit, a fedora, and tortoiseshell glasses pursed his lips, watching as Jessica assisted the retired raider back into the bar.
A hooded Legionary with black goggles and dark armour stood beside him. He waved silently at the assassin, laid a hand reassuringly against the silenced 10mm pistol under his arm, and headed for Megaton's front gate.
The Assassin unsheathed his machete and began to creep slowly around the edge of the crater, towards Nova's Saloon.
The bar was a cramped, two-level space with rooms above and a large seating area below. The space was actually empty, save for one drunken resident snoozing in a very comfortable-looking chair. It was dinner hour, and everyone had likely hauled off for food. Or it was just a quiet night.
Jessica planted the old fighter in a corner, tilting his head up. She brushed a newspaper off the table beside him, planning on setting down some medical supplies to help him get cleaned up.
"Hey!" A red-haired woman called out from the bar, "Hey, I don't want him in here. He's troublemaker."
"Hi!" Jessica made a beeline for the bar and shook the woman's hand. "I know this is a minor inconvenience, but-"
"Look hon, going down on a John and finding out he hasn't washed himself in three weeks is a minor inconvenience" the redhead declared, "Jericho there's a catastrophe."
"I… wow." Jessica said as politely as she could manage. She glanced back at Jericho for a moment.
The red-haired woman leaned across the bar. "I don't want him in here."
Jessica smiled, digging for a bag a caps. "Listen… Nova, is it?"
The woman nodded.
"I'll just clean him up and get him off to bed. I take it you rent the rooms upstairs." She planted twenty caps on the table.
Nova crossed her arms. "Rooms are a hundred caps a night."
Jessica raised her eyebrows and smirked wryly. "Room service must be fantastic."
Nova chuckled. "Best in the Wasteland, darling." She chewed her lip and looked Jessica up and down. "You could probably make a killing if you stuck around here."
"Well that's very kind, but…"
"Don't even have to sleep with the Johns. Just wear a low-cut top and collect the tips. You any good at flirting, hon?"
"I've done my share."
"Well… offer's open."
Jessica tossed her hair, "Look, I'm new in town. I was just trying to do a good thing, you know? Help out before anyone got hurt…"
Nova sighed and looked over at Jericho. "Been a little while since someone didn't use their fists to sort out a problem around here."
"It's just one night… Fifty?" Help a sister out…
"Seventy-five or you can go sleep in the commons."
"I'm guessing there's Legion in the commons…" Jessica said, injecting her voice with just the right mournful tone.
Nova sighed and glanced at a small framed photograph placed beside an old radio on a shelf behind the bar. It depicted her standing beside a grinning ghoul, arm in arm. She looked back at Jessica. "Fifty. One night. I'll get some hand towels and water for the fool over there…"
"Thank you!" Jessica said gratefully.
Nova disappeared into the back room. Jessica grabbed a large bottle of whiskey from the other side of the counter, along with a couple what passed in the Capital Wasteland for clean glasses, and headed back to the old fighter. She pulled up a stool opposite him. He was still pinching his nose to slow the blood flow. "Not one of my good days…"
Jessica shrugged, "Five on one. You didn't do too badly…" I was very impressed!
"Ha! You should'a seen me back in the day, Sweetheart. Time was the name Jericho woulda had'em all runnin' fer tha hills! Five on one… Fuckin' pussies."
"You ever miss it?" Jessica asked, pouring them both a double. She handed him the glass, which he took and downed almost instantly. She sipped on hers, cringing against the harsh burn. God, it was pigswill!
"What, being out there, explorin' and all that?"
"Better than standing around here all day with your thumb up your ass." She refilled his glass and he emptied it immediately.
"Heh. Damned straight." His smile slowly faded and he blinked and looked down at her.
Jessica sipped her glass innocently.
Jericho's eyes narrowed. "What's yer angle, kid?"
"I have an angle?"
"Don't mess around with me, kid. I know a playah when I see one. You had them soldjahs eatin' outta yer hand. They backed right off."
Jessica shrugged and took another sip of whiskey, "I like talking. I'm good at it."
Nova stomped up behind her and planted some med-x and a stimpack on the nearby table, kicking the newspaper under Jericho's chair. The barkeep dropped some rags in Jessica's lap, along with two bottles of Aqua Pura. "You gonna pay for that whiskey?"
"Absolutely! How much?"
"Twenty caps."
Jessica shot her a pained look, but Nova was having none of it, "I already gave you half off the room, and I'm eating the cost of those meds."
"Fair enough." Jessica counted out fifteen caps, and another fifty for the room. She handed them over, thanking the woman for her kindness.
"Don't mind Nova." Jericho said, "She's been that way since her Ghoul fuckboy died."
At the bar, Nova glared at him.
"I'm sorry to hear that…" Jessica said, loud enough for the barkeep to hear. She opened a bottle of fresh water and wet one of the rags. "Here, let me get you cleaned up a bit."
"You're one'a them goody two-shoes, then, eh?"
"I'm whatever I need to be," Jessica told him, dabbing at his face. "Besides, I should probably leave you the way you are: all this blood is covering up a whole lot of ugly."
"Ha ha ha. Screw you, kid!"
Jessica picked up the stimpack, flicking the end to empty the bubbles. She inserted it into his arm and pressed the plunger. All at once, the raider's wounds began to close and he groaned in relief. Pulling the needle out, she said, "Actually I'm looking to hire a guide and a fighter. Thought you might be interested…"
"Not unless I know where we're goin' and what we're doin'."
"It's a business transaction, Mister Jericho." You don't need to know everything to get paid. "Besides… it's not like you had anywhere important to be: you were about to go out in a drunken brawl with some legionaries."
"Nuh-uh. You tell me or I'm out. Go smoothtalk someone else." He shot back immediately.
Jessica stared. It had been a long time since anyone had said 'No' to her.
Jericho added, "I didn't live this long in the Capital Wasteland by taking just any job. I wanna know who I'm workin' for, and what I'm doin'."
"I came here with a group of people. But we got separated and I need to find them."
"And who are you? You don't look like you done any travelin' at all."
"You'd be surprised."
"Try me. And be honest. I don't want ta have to be changin' yer diapers out there. I don't wanna travel with some pussy-footed goody two shoes."
Jessica took a moment, and a long sip from her whiskey. "I… detonated several underground nukes in a place far west of here. It destroyed an entire town. But I got shot in the head soon after and I don't remember it…"
"Bullshit."
Jessica glanced backwards to doublecheck that the bartender was safely out of earshot. She pulled Boone's First Recon beret off of her head and tucked a few errant strands of hair behind her ear, revealing the twin overlapping scars round, rough, and slightly lighter than the rest of her skin. She said, "I've betrayed my allies, lied to my friends, abandoned a lover when he was on his deathbed, and I work for a megalomaniacal tyrant because at least he has a plan, and my life is very comfortable with him. That's all after getting shot in the head. Is that honest enough for you, Mister Jericho?"
Jericho looked down into his empty glass and coughed quietly. "Should just about do it…"
Jessica smirked and topped him up. "My turn. Why were you picking fights with Legionaries?"
"Legionaries?"
"The Vox."
"Cos of this!" Jericho reached down to the paper Nova had kicked away. He handed it over to her, and Jessica scanned the articles. It was new paper – poor quality, and printed after the apocalypse. The ink stank of chemical fumes which stung her eyes, but she skimmed through the headlines.
Vox News: Fair and Balanced
Bombed Out - Fact or Fiction - Did the Wanderer really disarm the Megaton Bomb?
It's been the narrative for years now that a kid with no Wasteland experience crawled out of Vault 101 and, within a few days, disarmed the nuclear device sitting at the centre of Megaton's crater. But how could that be possible? How could a mere 18-year-old Vault dweller with no explosives experience understand how the bomb worked, let alone fix it?
New evidence has come to light that there may have been a third hand in this: an upstanding citizen named Burke who possessed the knowledge. But where is he now?
We need to talk about Ghouls: The Capital Wasteland's Ticking Cannibal Time Bombs
Ghouls – merely humans who've suffered an ungodly amount of radiation, and haven't had the good will or misfortune to die. My dear reader, you may have Ghoul friends. I have a few myself. We've lived side by side with some of them for years.
But we've all met the vicious cannibal zombies wandering the darker places of the Capital Wasteland. Two difference species? How different are they, really? And is it true that the so-called 'Nice Ones' are fated to turn against us? Are they just ticking, cannibal time bombs?
It's time to reexamine the narrative. We need to have a conversation about our 'friendly' neighbor, the Ghoul…
Talonted: Is Commander Jackrum the Leader he wants us to think he is?
A Vox News Exclusive!
My fellow Wastelanders, we all know of the Talon Company. Those brave heroes who organized the wasteland after the supermutant invasion, and Jonathon Rumsfeld, the Leader who pulled us all through the fire.
But how effective was he? Meet the Wastelanders who still remember the day he offered them up to the mutant hordes to save his own skin. They have not forgotten, and neither should we!
Tenpenny Terror: That Time the Lone Wanderer Slaughtered a Group of Innocent Wastelanders
Safety. It is a word that means so much to us here in the Capital Wasteland, and it was all the long suffering traveler Roy Philips desired…
Lone Wanderer: Saint or Slaver?
Most esteemed reader, have you ever heard the name Harkness? You may not have. He was Rivet City's Chief of Security who, like so many others, had come to the Wasteland seeking a fresh start. Until the Wanderer found him…
Paradise Fails: The Wasteland's Economic Powerhouse Laid to Waste?
Might does not make right, my intellectually superior readers. That is a basic moral truth. So why is the Wanderer allowed to decide what is right and wrong for an entire settlement? Paradise Falls generated hundreds of caps and countless new jobs for Wasteland Citizens. My friends, it is time to talk about how the Lone Wanderer undermined the Capital Wasteland's economic interests, and destroyed the rights of its citizens to make an honest living…
Project Purify: Poisoning the Capital Wasteland?
A Vox News Exclusive!
In a shocking revelation, it has come to light that the Enclave gave the Lone Wanderer the means to use Project Purity to poison the entire Capital Wasteland. Have they been working together the entire time? What do we actually know? Time to check the facts.
Broken Steel: The Wanderer gave the Brotherhood brand new weapons – so why did they fall so easily?
The fall of the Brotherhood of Steel was the opening salvo of the mutant war, but Vox News had learned that just weeks beforehand the Wanderer had given them an entire armory's worth of brand new energy weapons. In other words: the most well organized, well equipped force in the entire Capital Wasteland fell in a day. What happened, and how was the Wanderer responsible?
"You don't want to read that Brahmin shit, honey. It'll rot your brain." Nova had stopped by with another bottle of Aqua Pura, setting it down on the table.
"They really hate the Lone Wanderer…"
"Yeah they do. So do I. Damned boyscout. But this is my Wasteland. Those bastards don't get ta invent what happened and lie about shit. Wanderer was bad, but them muties was worse, and he and Jackrum pulled us through. Ya come down on'em and I come down on you."
Beside them, Nova pulled up a chair and waved an empty glass at Jessica, who obliged.
Jessica looked from one to the other, "what happened to this place?"
"About eighteen months ago a mutant army came storming out of the D.C. ruins." Nova explained, "They wiped out the Brotherhood of Steel and basically half the wasteland in the space of a week."
"How did you survive?"
"The Wanderer locked us up in that goddamned Vault," Jericho said. "I would'a preferred a fight."
"The brotherhood couldn't take it, what makes you think we could have, idiot?"
"I hate being locked up in a tin can. I ain't fuckin' dogfood!" Jericho shot back.
"That's a rough situation. How did anyone survive?"
"There's a band of Mercs up in the northwest called the Talon Company," Nova said, "well equipped and pretty well organized."
"They was fun to drink with." Jericho remembered, smiling, "Lotsa good stories'o lootin' and raidin' and shit."
"They were bad news, but they paid their tabs and didn't cause much trouble here in town." Nova said. "They knew they wouldn't be let back in if they did, and we're a lot easier to get to than Rivet City."
"Rivet City?"
"Southeast of here. Just follow the east bank of the river and you can't miss it. It's the capital of the Wasteland. A bunch of settlers back in the day turned a beached aircraft carrier into a town."
"Easy to defend, see?" Jericho added.
"I wouldn't go near it now, though" Nova warned, "The Vox made it their headquarters."
"And what about the Talon Company?" Jessica asked, making a mental note.
"A merc named Jackrum had taken control of them. He and the Wanderer rallied what was left of us into an army and pushed back against the Mutants. They even got the Enclave on board. Until they betrayed us."
Jessica shook her head. "I can't believe the Enclave are still kicking out here… they were basically wiped out back west."
"Oh, they're more than kickin'." Jericho told her, "They got Vertibirds and heavy armour. Well equipped."
Vertibirds… that must have been what downed the NCR's flying machines…
"They're out north and west, in the middle of another war with Jackrum's Talon Company." Nova said.
"I've met a few of them already. Tell me about the Vox."
"Shitheads."
"Oh, well put, numb-nuts." Nova said acidly. She turned to Jessica, "After the Supermutant war, we thought it would all calm down, and it did in a way. But a lot us had died. The Wanderer and the Talon Company did what they could, but the wasteland is a harsh place. People were starving. Caravans were being picked off, and the Enclave was attacking every vulnerable settlement in the Wasteland, trying to trap the Wanderer."
"Trap him? Why?"
Jericho shook his head, "ooh boy... where the fuck do we start with that one?"
"It's a long story," Nova agreed. "The Wasteland was in pretty bad shape, and one day, out of the blue, this big long troop of guys in armor comes marching up from the southwest."
"Answered prayers..." Jessica guessed, refilling the woman's cup.
"Exactly. It was great. At first. They escorted the Caravans around from place to place. Helped out defending us. Helped us rebuild and recover. In return they just wanted a place to stay. We were all thankful, so we let them in."
"First mistake, last mistake." Jericho said, unsteadily holding out his own empty glass. Jessica obliged, and the whiskey vanished as fast as it was poured.
"After a little while, they started to… change things."
Jessica frowned attentively and filled up the barkeep's glass again.
"We wasn't allowed to do what we wanted no more," Jericho explained, "they had all kinds'a rules." He picked up the paper and shook it angrily, "Started publishin' this shit. Tellin' us what to think." Jessica reached out and gave him a few more ounces of whiskey.
"It's more complicated…" Nova added, "They have some really good speakers on their side."
"Good speakers?"
The barkeep shook her head slowly as Jessica refilled her glass, "I can't explain it. When they talk, you listen, and you… you believe it. At least for a while."
Jessica stiffened. "That sounds familiar, actually."
"They have a special word for them… Fruitmentaries."
"Frumentarii."
"Sounds like you know more than us…" Nova laughed. Jessica smiled politely at the woman's once more empty glass, and poured in a few more ounces. Both of the wastelanders were quite drunk, and that suited her fine. Liquor loosened lips.
"An' they had a real hard-on for the Lone Wanderer." Jericho said.
"They did. That was the big problem. He used to live here, you know. But the Fruitmen-"
"Frumentarii."
"-Yes thank you, the Frumentarii kept on spreading lies and rumors about him. In a month half the town had turned against him."
Jessica had never felt that level of alienation, but her heart went out to the Wanderer. "That's terrible…"
"A lot of good people couldn't take it, and they left town…" Nova said, slurring her words slightly, "Lucas Simms, Lucy West, Doc Mitchell… the Stahls. All of them left. Headed northwest to join up with the Talon Company. And that was it. Megaton belonged to the Vox, and they took control. Anyone who spoke up just disappeared."
"What did they do to the Wanderer?" Jessica gave them both a few more ounces of whiskey. The bottle was less than a quarter full now.
"Hang on," Jericho leaned forwards, "Ya gotta understand something about this guy: Ya don't fuck with the Lone Wanderer. Ya just don't. The Enclave has been tryin' ta catch this guy for like.. half a decade. They march out into the Wasteland with their flyin' machines and fancy power armour and big bazookas and plasma rifles. He comes at them dressed in a duster and a red bandana. Always wins. Always. This guy takes on supermutants every day. Single-handed. Just kills them all. Bang bang bang. Understand, sweetheart, ya don't fuck with the Lone Wanderer."
"The Vox did," Nova told her, "they drove him out. Killed his dog. Trashed his home. Planted their flag on top and moved their Frumentarii in."
"I'm missing something here…" Jessica said, frowning, "If he's such a good fighter, I can't imagine him just letting them do that."
"…I…" Nova shrugged helplessly. "Well… they did."
"What do ya keep sayin' 'they' for, Nova?" Jericho challenged sourly. "You know what happened as well as I do."
The barkeep fell silent for a long time, staring into her glass.
"Nova?" Jessica asked gently, laying a hand on her shoulder. "What happened?"
"We…" the woman whispered, wide-eyed. "…We did it. Megaton did it to him."
"That's much betta," Said Jericho, leaning back in his seat triumphantly, "Own it. You guys really gotta learn how ta live with havin' done a bad thing."
"I hate you, Jericho."
"Nah. You hate you. You was okay with it. Bought right into all their Brahmin shit, didn't yah, Nova?"
"Shut up." The barkeep was on the verge of tears.
"Where's Gob, Nova?"
"Shut up!"
"Enough." Jessica said sharply. The old raider's mouth clamped shut and he stared at her in shock.
Silent tears were dripping down Nova's cheeks, ruining her makeup. "He did so much for us…" she whispered. "And we just… turned on him…"
"It's not your fault." Jessica said gently, sliding her stool over and putting her gentle arm around the woman's shoulders. "It's not your fault, Nova."
"…But it is…" the woman sobbed, her face in her hands.
"I know a bit about these people," Jessica said, "I've seen them before, back out west. If it didn't happen this way, it would have happened another way."
"Yeah but this way, the Wanderer couldn't fight back, ya see?" Jericho explained.
"He… he didn't want to hurt us so he couldn't do anything but… but watch…" Nova said, leaning against Jessica. The Courier could feel the woman's tears against her bare shoulder. She gently ran her hand up and down the woman's back.
"They took the Wasteland. Rivet City was next. They even got our D.J. Three-Dog. Dunno what they did ta him but now he just spews their lies all day long… the only sane people left are holed up in Fort Bannister and they don't let anyone in anymore. Too afraid of one'o them Fruitymen sneaking in. And they're busy with the Enclave."
"How did we miss it…?" Nova asked hoarsely. "How did we not see it?"
"To lost friends." Jessica said, refilling their cups and raising her own glass, which she had barely touched.
"Ta friends." Said Jericho, clinking his glass.
"To lovers." Said Nova, doing the same.
All three of them down their glasses.
"Oh Gob… he was such a good person… such a good…" Nova trailed off suddenly, and Jessica recognized the dead-eyed look and the lolling tongue. She shot backwards and grabbed Nova's shoulders as the Barkeep heaved half the evening's drink onto the saloon floor, narrowly missing Jericho's boot.
"Hey! Watch it!" the old man scolded.
Jessica kneeled beside the barkeep, massaging her back; this wasn't the first time she had guided a friend through a night of overdrinking. "Alright, easy… just let it all out. You can clean it up later."
Nova retched a few more times, and stilled, resting against Jessica and breathing heavily. The Courier reached up and grabbed one of the wet rags, mopping up the Barkeep's face.
"Heh. She never could hold her booze like she needed to." Jericho said, staring at the back of Nova's head. The Barkeep murmured something unintelligible in response. He said, "Ol' Moriarty used ta own this bar. She was just a whore. He used ta get her completely shit-faced. Drunk so's she couldn't even stand. Then he'd drag her upstairs and fuck her senseless."
"There's a word for that." Jessica said coldly, glaring up at him.
"Yeah…" Jericho said, "don't think I didn't notice you haven't really touched yer glass, kid. Yer a sharp one."
"Sometimes." In Jessica's arms, Nova had drifted off to sleep. "Who was Gob?"
"Gob? This saloon's Ghoul bartender. Best thing that ever happened to her. Ol' Moriarty used her. Gob loved her. That's why he didn't head to Fort Bannister with the others. But when the entire town went after the Lone Wanderer he tried to stop us. One man against the whole damned angry mob and well… one of the Fruitmen called him a zombie an' that was it. Whole town up and beat him to death. Right beside the bomb. And Nova did nothing but watch cos the Fruitman beside her told her it was right. Gob's body was floating in that irradiated pool for days before she fished him out and buried him. You think she started drinkin' now with us? Nova's been drinkin' since she woke up this morning."
The man looked down into his glass, swirling the amber liquid and running his thumb around the edge. He said, "I used ta be a Raider, ya know? I was the meanest son of a bitch ya ever saw. I did it all, kid."
Jessica stared at him, and he stared back, straight into her eyes. "I raped. I pillaged. I murdered kids. Entire families. I bin addicted to every chem under the sun. Spent my nights fucking and drinking and shooting up anything I could find, and the days killing everything I could find. Then one day I woke up and I was so Goddamned old…" He snorted, "funny thing about Old Three Dog and the Wanderer, though… they made you believe the world could be a better place. I didn't mind that so much, in the end. Before the Vox tore it all down."
"You could do a good thing now." Jessica suggested, motioning at the sleeping barkeep.
"Heh. Yeah…" Jericho rose unsteadily to his feet and reached down. Together they lifted Nova up, each taking an arm around their shoulder, and half walked, half carried the woman up the stairs. Jessica searched her pockets for a key, and used it to open one of the doors on the upper level, gently depositing the barkeep on the mattress inside.
Jessica tucked a pillow under her head while Jericho grabbed a moth-eaten blanket from a nearby closet and gently tucked it in around her.
They stood back, watching the woman sleep soundly.
"You lied to me, kid." Jericho said, lifting the whiskey bottle to his lips. Jessica had not even noticed he'd grabbed it.
She shot him a small smile. "Yeah?"
"Yeah." The old raider emptied the last of the bottle and tossed it into the corner where it landed with a loud clank. He said, "You are a good two-shoes afterall."
With that, he pulled out a bottle of aqua pura from his pocket and tossed it onto the bed next to Nova. Jessica shot him a half smile. "I guess we're both liars, Jericho."
The raider raised his eyebrows. "Yeah. I guess so. Sleep tight, kid."
"You too." She picked a room at random for herself and set down her hunting rifle and combat shotgun against the wall. Jessica shrugged off her courier's duster and rolled her slim shoulders. She pulled Boone's beret off of her head and settled down onto the mattress. It was lumpy, stained and torn. Not exactly comfortable, but as she had spent her previous evenings upright in a plane, and trapped in a raider den, Jessica wasn't about to complain. She pulled her duster up as a makeshift blanket and laid the beret across her eyes to block out the light. Her mind ticked slowly over everything she had seen and heard.
It was imperative that she find Cass and Arcade and get the hell out before the Legion realized who they were and what was going on.
Slowly, she drifted off to sleep.
On the floor below, in the back room which only the barkeep was allowed to enter, the latch on the back entrance turned slowly and silently until, with a quiet click, it unlocked. The door swung open, momentarily letting in the cold air of the Wasteland night. A shadow passed into the darkened room, and the door just as quietly swung shut.
Fun fact: that moment when Jessica thinks about Boone – that was actually a typo. I accidentally typed Boone's name instead of Arcade's and decided I wanted to keep it and use it instead of fix it. :)
For those of who trying to figure out the timelines here, after you map it out, could you please explain it to me? I'm a little confused myself…
If I ever go back through this series chapter by chapter and really clean it up, that'll be one of the things I map out and fix because I'm pretty sure I broke something somewhere. Right now I'm just using timeframes that fit what I want to do with this story.
This chapter is twice as long as it's supposed to be, but I had a lot of meat to get through. From here, the story should speed up a little. You have to set up the dominos before you knock them down…