Two guards, three traders, and a dozen brahmin passed by, the animals loudly whining away the fatigue of their long detour around Quarry junction. The fifth caravan since sunrise not two hours earlier. Veronica had never seen the brahmin pins of the 188 so full before. With legion rumoured to be sniffing around Nipton, she was surprised to see so many still braving the roads, but the money was well worth the risk.
"Clear skies, a taste of dust clouds, and the fine smell of mutated cow poop. Just another fine day in sunny Nevada" announced Veronica.
A prim ginger passed her by with the now full water jug she'd seen her carrying empty a few moments. Smiling, Veronica waved at her, a gesture that was hard for the other woman to recuperate with her hands full. A small nod of acknowledgement served just as well.
"Good morning, Michelle! Could you please tell Samuel I'd like my Salisbury steak medium rare with a dash of red wine and some lemon juice?"
Michelle smiled, "No stakes today, none of the brahmin are sick or old enough to butcher. Would you like to hear today's menu?"
"I'll bite, what can you get me?" she answered with a grin knowing where this was going.
The younger Kerr put down the jug and made a grand show of reading off a rolled-up pre-war magazine while holding a pencil made of air.
"Today we have some fried tatos, spicy coyote sausages right off the grill; dad's been calling them howlers, and fresh banana yucca fruit."
Veronica playfully pouted, "ah, but Miche, I want choices!"
"Maybe our business meals will be more to your liking?"
"Now you're talking."
"You can have tatos with howlers, howlers with yucca, or yucca with tatos. That's choices!"
Veronica laughed but otherwise let the busy body get on with her work. Since her last rather… heated row with the elder, most days went rather like this. She'd coordinate supply drops with less controversial brotherhood members while staying well away from Hidden Valley. It was getting rather boring really, but she hadn't found anything better to do. Today's traffic was sparse apart from the caravans, but none of them seemed like any fun at all. Walking across the wasteland behind one of their walking compost machines wasn't Veronica's idea of an adventure.
She kept hoping she'd run into an ambitious sassy young prospector out to strike it rich or die trying to run off with and explore the wasteland. Alas, nobody like that had come by so far. Looking towards the Kerr store, Veronica spotted a blond in leather armour. She was about her age, but it was hard to tell behind her big sunglasses and black cowboy hat. Her load out more than made up for it; a grenade launcher and 5.56 rifle were strapped to her back while a 10mm pistol and 9mm submachine gun were holstered to her left and right. Rows upon rows of dynamite, mines, frag grenades and other homemade explosives bounced slightly off her belt as she walked, all of them too well-fastened to accidentally go off.
The rest of her 'ordinance' was nice too, but less interesting compared with the general 'don't fuck with me' vibe the traveller was going for. Veronica was a sucker for style, though as she came closer, she noted the scar near the traveller's forehead. No one was perfect.
"No offence, but you look like you've travelled a long way down some bad roads. Where'd you come from?*" asked Veronica.
At first, it seemed like the traveller was more interested in taking a smoke, but after a few puffs she replied, "I've come from the grave."
Veronica blinked, it sounded like a joke, but she had the impression the stranger wasn't the type who went about trying to be funny.
"Huh. Well, in that case, I take it back. You look pretty good given the circumstances.*" An understatement if there ever was one.
"Well, welcome then. I am Veronica. I live in a hole in the ground. Well, a bunker, if you want to get technical. I think it sounds more interesting the way I say it. But I am not there much anymore. I'm usually out here picking up food and supplies for my family.*"
"My name is Lisa Colbert, I'm a courier with the Mojave express. I don't suppose you've seen a guy in a white chequered suit coming through here? He has a package of mine." said the courier putting out her cigarette while her other hand played with a fancy lighter.
The conversation carried on amicably enough. Lisa opened up a little and shared her amazing journey from the Goodsprings cemetery. All the rumours coming off the caravans for the past week seemed to feature her as one of those pre-war movie stars. The more they talked, the more Veronica became convinced that this was the person she'd been waiting for. Trouble was, the Brotherhood wasn't exactly popular.
"I had a run-in with this group calling themselves the Brotherhood of Steel. Pretty strange bunch. Know anything about them?*"
Lisa seemed to mull over her question, "I met a group of them in a bunker west of here*."
A strange sense of dread nestled in her thoughts, something about the way Lisa said it.
"…And?"
Lisa pulled out a strange-looking energy weapon from where Veronica thought a 10mm had been holstered a few moments ago. Gone also were the leather armour and cowboy hat, replaced with a full suit of riot gear the NCR rangers liked to use and a mini-gun ammo pack. The pistol had a strange projector dish, and a curious electronic set-up Veronica didn't recall seeing one quite like it before, or had she?
"Don't you remember Vera? I used this to kill them all. You helped me do it."
The courier fired the pulse gun at Veronica's side of the bridge causing the surface to collapse under her. Veronica tried to grab on to the supports, and when those also failed, to Lisa's arm. The latter did nothing to help her but look on as she fell to the earth.
The last thing Veronica saw were the 'red eyes' of the riot helmet, growing only bigger with distance.
Morning came to Piltover with the rise of a bloodied sun or so said many of the labourers who saw it. Those who weren't busy gossiping went about the task of removing the bodies from the Bridge of Progress under the careful watch of the enforcers. Nobody seemed willing to risk a repeat of yesterday's violence, but nobody was taking any chances either. A few scuffles and protests broke out but the peace was maintained.
"Got another one here! This one sure looks like she came ready for a fight!" shouted one of the labourers gesturing to a robed woman.
Another labourer came to have a look "anything valuable on her? The enforcer isn't looking."
"A bag, a pistol, and some gauntlet like one of them things the hound used," said the first worker while he tried to take the device off her arm.
A sudden long breath stopped them, "you didn't tell me she was breathin! I ain't stealing shit from anyone who went over that bridge and lived!"
"Aye, bad luck that, what should we do with her though? I think she's coming around."
The commotion soon attracted one of the enforcers, "what's the holdup you undercity rats? The council wants this mess cleaned up by nightfall."
"We don't give a hoot what bout the council, we've got a survivor and she's going back with us," said the worker, the rest nodding along with him.
Veronica was oblivious to all of it as she struggled to open her eyes. Gradually, they fluttered open, only to see a riot helmet staring back at her.
Red eyes
Her power fist slammed into the Courier's face before Veronica could pause to even think about it. A distinct male grunt of pain, however, told a different story. Looking down at the person she'd struck down, she noticed the helmet's visor was green rather than red.
Not the Courier? But I thought I saw…
Looking up at her immediate surroundings, Veronica noticed the growing commotion as civilians dressed not much better than raiders rushed to confront the troops sent to meet them. Again, not the courier, but a similar uniform to the NCR ranger elite. Since when were they blue?
"You! Throw that thing over here and put your hands up or we'll fire!" shouted one of the rangers pointing some sort of rifle at her.
But the locals weren't having any of it. By now, a sizable crowd had formed on the other side of the bridge with more joining by the minute.
"I'll be damned if we let you shoot anyone else!"
"Murderers!"
"Down with the council!"
"Free Zaun!"
The crowd surged forward ignoring the rangers as they fired into the air. Feeling rather exposed standing in the middle, Veronica didn't complain when the crowd helped her get across the bridge out of the line of fire. Before long, the bullets started hitting flesh. A few fell while the rest backed off from the bridge. Following their lead, Veronica briefly stopped to look back, but instead of the New Vegas area, the sight was unlike anything she'd seen. Far from being one of the flimsy old bridges around the strip, this one gave the ruins of the Golden Gate a run for its money.
White spires filled the skyline of the city with such seamless finery it looked positively decadent, not that she'd seen anything worthy of the pre-war title of city. New Vegas was one of a kind on the West Coast, but even it paled in comparison to this place. The buildings simply went on and on and all looked inhabited. The architecture was strange, a bit like pictures of pre-war settlements in a continent called Europe she'd seen in the Brotherhood's archives. As soon as she'd considered teleportation, she rejected it. None of the buildings showed signs of war damage or decay.
Info on much of the old US was scarce, non-existent for the rest of the world, but she'd bet 1000 caps that building something like this was beyond any post-war civilization. The geiger counter pinned to her robe wasn't detecting even trace amounts of radiation.
Where the hell am I? This must be a fever dream!
"There's the rebel! Take her out!" shouted one of the rangers, if he really was a ranger
Veronica cursed; she was gawking like an NCR first-timer at the Strip. Unlike them, she had no intention of cashing out. She dived to cover behind some crates as the bullets started flying toward her. The impact of the rounds against the sturdy wood of shipping containers felt real enough.
Right, first get out of this mess, then try to figure out where I am.
She couldn't move out of cover while they were shooting at her. Taking out her 10mm pistol, she edged to the corner of the crates and took aim. The first round missed, and so did the second one. While not a crack shot by any means, she wasn't bad. She got one of the troopers down with the third round forcing the rest behind cover. More, however, were rushing forwards behind them. There was no way she could hold off so many.
Firing off the rest of the clip as suppressive fire, Veronica reloaded as she ran opposite the direction of her pursuers. After a brief jog, she stopped by one of the streets to catch her bearings. An imposing line of buildings stood before her, not as fancy as the city beyond the bridge, but still bigger and meaner than anything she'd ever had to lose pursuers in. The imposing street seemed full of narrow twists and turns beyond counting.
Which one will get me out of here?
A pat on her shoulder almost made her punch whoever it was, but her power fist hit only air, her arm caught in place by a muscular hand.
"It isn't very nice trying to punch someone who's here to help you out," said its owner.
Buffed up would be an understatement to describe the man in front of her, he was almost as big as Grandma Lilly. Veronica quickly realized that the firm if soft hold on her arm could grow into a bone-crushing grapple at a moment's notice if the stranger really wanted to harm her.
"Who are you? Why should I trust you?" she asked, frowning at the shouting as it came closer. The troopers hadn't been far when she ran.
The man loosened his grip but kept at it. "I'm someone who can get you out of the enforcers way, and as for trust, do you have a choice?"
The sound of rushing boots against the cobblestones said no. Brushing aside her weariness, Veronica brought down the power fist.
"You have a point, where do we go from here?"
The man gestured towards one of the smaller alleyways. A woman soon joined them there with a thick trench coat in her arms, "this was the best thing I could find in a hurry. Vander, you'd better head to the bridge quick or things will go out of control. We've lost a dozen already."
Vander sighed at the news momentarily looking older than his middle age. He picked up the trench coat and all but threw it at her, "The enforcers probably only saw your robe. Put this on and follow Sevika. She'll take you somewhere safe. My people need me."
With that, he turned and bolted back to the street. Looking at the coat she noted how thick it was. It wouldn't be comfortable over her robes.
"I don't have all day, if you're coming put that thing on. The enforcers are still out in strength down below." said the woman.
Her gruff look and tone made it clear she didn't have any time for modesty. She was right too; Veronica only wore the unassuming patchy robe to be overlooked. She quickly unbuckled her backpack and took off the robe, opting to tare the fabric over taking the time to take off her power fist.
The trench coat itched, especially under the added weight of her backpack, but Veronica was pretty sure even she couldn't tell who or what was under the mass of dirty butternut material if she had been looking on. It was almost big enough to make her power fist look like her natural hand size. Looking up, the woman was already running onto the next alleyway at a pace Veronica could barely keep up with. Veronica could be fast as a melee fighter, but she quickly lost all sense of direction in all the twists and turns they had to go through.
Eventually, they came across a rather odd corner with a leaver attached to it. Veronica hesitated until her guide pulled it and the piece of floor suddenly started descending. She practically had to jump to make it on the platform in time before it got out of reach.
"Did you hit your head on the bridge or are you always this slow?" asked Sevika.
Before Veronica could answer, the elevator passed beyond the top level and into a huge chasm. If her mouth could reach the bottom, it would have done. Level after level of buildings stood on top of each other running down to a depth even Vault-Tech would have found excessive. The deeper they went, the scarcer the sun became as a source of light until it was replaced by a mass of yellowish-green neon.
"I've never seen so many people in one place before."
The woman snorted, "figured you were an outsider. You don't move like one of us, but you're too ragged for a topsider. Where are you from?"
"California, more recently from Nevada," answered Veronica, deciding that now was as good a time as any to try and figure out where she was.
She was soon disappointed, "Never heard of them but I don't know shit outside the Lanes. If you aren't one of us, why were you on the bridge?"
"I don't know, one moment I was home, the next I woke up to see that ranger." The last thing she remembered was that pulse gun overloading.
Sevika snorted, "Sounds like a pretty big smack if you can't remember how you got here. The topsider you hit was an enforcer."
"It's the helmets, they look like NCR rangers. Those guys are killing machines. Should have known they weren't the way they kept missing me."
Sevika's expression darkened, "You were lucky. They know how to be accurate when they need to be. Over a hundred dead yesterday, at least a dozen today, they know all about killing. You can't be too bad if your first instinct is to punch one of them, but it will probably get you killed.
Before Veronica could ask further, the lift came to a stop. The street before her was as lively as Gomorrah with all the sights and pleasures you'd expect from the casino's courtyard. It soon became obvious that not everyone out here was human but they didn't look like mutations.
With every step, she felt more at odds with her sense of time and place. The Brotherhood prized its collection of trashy SF novels, but she never expected to end up on another planet. It was a crazy theory, but after a year of travelling with the Courier, nothing seemed impossible.
Even betrayal from the people you trust the most.
At the end of the street stood a rugged building with a beer mug sign on top of the door. Parallel universe or not, the letters were still written in plain English. 'The Last Drop.' Veronica tensed at the sight of masked enforcers but a shove to her side quickly made her look away from them.
"What the fuck are you playing at? Do you have a sign for that big hand saying fugitive come find me?" seethed Sevika as the enforces left.
Helping herself to her feet, Veronica glared at her guide, "Oh, and starting fights in full view of the cops doesn't attract their attention."
"You think you're being funny? Well, you'd better learn quickly how we do things, or the joke will be on you. Enforcers don't give a fuck who fights who down here and that's the way we like it. I've wasted enough time on your sorry ass. Get into the bar and wait for Vander. Can you manage it?"
She left before Veronica could even start answering. Trouble was Veronica knew she was right. Ever since the NCR had taken over Freeside from the Kings, non-NCR civilians risked crossing their troopers at their peril. Things seemed to be just as bad if not worse down in this undercity.
"Can't see the sky too well but the air is even crappier than Nevada mid-sandstorm. Fine smell of a dysfunctional drainage system, nothing new there, but not for a place this size," said Veronica with a cough as she walked towards the bar. Was that why the enforcers had those gas masks?
"The food had better be worth it."
Notes:
* marks lines directly lifted from FNV. I don't like recycling dialogue but it seemed justified in this instance.
This chapter begins (after the dream sequence) the day after the fight on the bridge which got Vi and Powder's parents killed. The way I see it, I'd imagine things would still be tense and that it wouldn't take much for fighting to break out. Not yet sure what kind of effect that will have on things but I expect the desire to calm things down will win out against renewed fighting at this stage. Veronica just happened to be in the wrong place at the wrong time and had the wrong first impression about enforcer helmets.
Would be happy to receive feedback if you have any to give. More or less dream sequences? General critique of the pacing and dialogue of the chapter? Things you'd like to see? I am coming around to the idea that Veronica won't be the last thing to crossover from the Fallout universe so I am open to other suggestions.
Thanks for reading,
ALoN