.
Satin gold. That was the most accurate comparison Veronica could think of for the woman's hair as it fell in waves across her slight shoulders. The doctor seemed oblivious to the subtle glow – the cascading halo – that served to highlight her dancing azure eyes. As Veronica watched, she grasped another Follower's arm and smiled, painted nails adding strength to the light embrace. A ping of envy raced through the former Scribe's mind and was just as quickly discarded as the golden entity turned towards her and the smile grew. Realizing her mouth had involuntarily opened, Veronica snapped it shut and turned her attention to purposelessly shuffling through her bag. Faint footsteps pounded through her ears and her heart began to race as the figure approached.
"It's Veronica, right?"
"Yeah, it is. Sorry, my mind was somewhere else."
"It's fine. My name's Lyn, and technically I'm the person in charge around here, so I thought I'd introduce myself."
"Nice to meet you, Lyn. You weren't around the last time I dropped in here, right?"
"That's likely; I'm actually fresh from Angel's Boneyard!"
"Angel's Boneyard? Right, Las Angeles."
"You know your history, Miss…"
"Oh! Santangelo."
"Miss Santangelo. Do you have any idea how to fix a micro-fusion generator?"
"Of course! Should be fairly simple as long as you don't blindfold me or tie me up or anything."
"Don't tempt me… anyway, Lucas around back could use your help fixing the array we have set up there."
"Huh? Oh, yeah, I'll get right on that."
"Oh, sorry, that first bit was out loud, wasn't it?"
"I thought I just imagined you said it..."
"Maybe you did. Crimson looks good on you, Miss Santangelo – really brings out the color of your eyes. I'll talk to you later?"
"Y-yeah! Sounds good."
.
.
"So, what's with the nail polish?"
"Oh God… everyone always has to ask about the nail polish."
"Well, it is kind of an oddity for the Mojave! People normally just stick with their natural fleshy color."
"Fleshy is such a gross word. Ok, fine, I'll tell you. It started off as an order, basically."
"You get ordered to put on nail polish? I should have joined the Followers sooner…"
"It's not like that! Back in the Boneyard, I was really invested in my work. All my free time and extra caps went back into the Followers. Julie Farkas and I were – and are, I guess – close friends, so she constantly tried to get me to loosen up. Finally, when Julie was promoted to come out here and lead the Mojave mission, she told me to spend some time for just me. I said I'd give it a shot, she said it wasn't up for debate – used her newfound authority to get some Follower guards to escort me to a local bazaar and told them to not let me work again until I bought something for myself. First stall we passed had a bunch of nail polish, so I picked some up and said we could go back. The guards insisted that I put the stuff on before they'd let me get back to work.
"Turns out doing your nails is actually really cathartic. Or, it is for me at least, so I kept doing it. Once a month I make a night of it. Clean off the last of the previous month's polish and put on the new coat. I actually started doing my toes too, though no one can ever tell. Follower work isn't exactly light, so the polish usually gets chipped away fairly quickly, but for a day or two, they look and feel fantastic. Really helps me unwind."
"Huh… where do you even get nail polish out here?"
"I thought you were supposed to be a procurement specialist?"
"I am! I just never had anybody request nail polish back at… back home."
"Right… well... I'd be happy to introduce you to my supplier! A fellow up in the strip hooks me up with all things nail-related, why don't you join me on my resupply mission next week?"
"Are you sure? I've only been here for a couple months."
"You've done plenty to help out, so I think you deserve some R&R. Plus, I've got a room reserved in the Ultra-Luxe so we can make a weekend out of it. Don't tell anybody, but the Followers are actually taking control of the Casino!"
"Wait, Denn… er… the Courier is reopening the Ultra-Luxe?"
"Yes-mam! Him and Julie have been in talks for a while now. It's mainly going to be a restaurant and hotel, but there still has to be some gambling. Julie's not exactly ecstatic about that, but the condition for our taking control was we had to keep everything in the black."
"Wonder why he never mentioned anything about it…"
"Well, if the rumors about why the White Glove society just up and vanished are true, the Ultra Lux is probably not a subject he would enjoy talking about. Anyway, what do you say? Want to be my plus one for the grand re-opening?"
"I thought this was just going to be a resupply mission?!"
"Ok, I may have an ulterior motive or two for having you join me… All my friends from back home are going to be there, and I would love to show up with a raven-haired bombshell on my arm to make them regret not signing up for the mission.
"I don't know… It'll take more than unfounded flattery to get me to attend a party."
"Well, if you keep fishing for compliments, Miss 'Unfound Beauty,' I might have to use my authority to get you to come with me."
"Do you even have authority over me?"
"No idea. I'd have to ask Julie, and she's going to be at the strip, so you might as well tag along. Also, the room has a Jacuzzi! "
"What's a Jacuzzi?"
"I have no clue… but Julie said they are pretty fantastic."
"Fine, you've got yourself a date."
.
.
"I didn't expect to see you so soon; what brings you back to the strip?"
"I'm a plus one. Speaking of which, have you seen a short blonde with painted nails?"
"A few of them, though I can't say I've been looking much at their nails."
"Pervert."
"Hey, I'm not the one actively pursuing one. How's the outpost treating you?"
"Quiet enough. I've gotten pretty much everything over there patched up and working smoothly. Feels good to be helping out."
"I'm glad. I've got an eyebot keeping watch on that area, by the way."
"Thanks dad, but I'm pretty sure the Legion has better targets than a tower full of doctors. 'Specially doctors who are distant relations to ye olde Caesar."
"It's not the Legion I'm worried about…"
"Right… have you heard anything from the bunker?"
"Nothing. No scouts have been seen leaving the area either, but that's probably due to their dust screen blowing pretty much continuously. I guess they were uneasy with the knowledge that I'm watching them."
"Yeah, they're a paran–"
"Hey, Veronica! Over here!"
"There's the blonde one. I'll catch up with you later?"
"Probably not, there's a lot going on at the moment. Take care of yourself, alright?"
"Will do, boss."
.
.
"Rise and shine, Miss Alavrez!"
"Ugh, what time is it?"
"Hell if I know…"
"Then go find out what time it is and then wake me up, Miss Santangelo."
"Really? Well, I guess I'll just take that hot Jacuzzi-bath all by myself then… more's the pity…"
"… You're incorrigible."
"That's the spirit. Now, take off your pants!"
.
.
"I'm back!"
"Hey, how did the meeting go?"
"Well enough. We're going to be working on increasing communication between the various Follower outposts, which means we've got to come up with a veritable ton of mismatched parts."
"I know a guy or two; I could probably take care of most of the stuff you guys need."
"That would be fantastic! You really should've joined me – we could use someone more acquainted with the area to tell us which ideas are good and which are shit."
"Yeah… sorry, I just don't think I should get too involved at that level. I'm fine doing grunt-work, but… yeah."
"It's fine. Julie told me where you're from by the way. Don't worry, I won't tell anyone back at the outpost."
"I appreciate it. I wish Julie hadn't told you, though…"
"I'm glad she did. Now at least I know not to press too hard."
"Well… I wouldn't protest if you did in the right spot…"
"Tempting… but I should probably get back to the outpost. Mind getting the list of what we need from Julie and seeing what you can do?"
"I would love to… but there's one problem…"
"Really? What's that?"
"I ran another bath…"
"… Waste not…"
.
.
October 10th, 2281, 7:06 p.m.
Veronica pulled at the ornery Brahmin's lead as she made her way across the train tracks leading to the Follower's outpost. The overburdened quadruped had been ready to stop for the night a few miles ago, but Veronica had pressed on, unwilling to rest so close to her destination.
Finally, the Brahmin had enough and came to a stop. Veronica frowned at the protesting mammal and yanked on its lead. The animal's two heads bayed morosely and shook, quite unhappy at their current situation.
Suddenly, the sound of a gunshot exploded through the quiet evening. Veronica dropped into a defensive stance, pulling out a revolver warily. The Brahmin ceased its complaints and stood perfectly still, aware of the significance of gunfire. Veronica's eyes widened as she realized the shot had come from the Follower's outpost. Dropping the pack animal's lead, she sprinted towards the distant building.
As she approached, she looked over the surrounding area. There was no movement, and the tower itself was completely dark. A sense of dread plunged into the pit of her stomach and she charged the outpost. Taking the stairs two at a time, she slammed through the building's doorway.
A cloud of residue rose into the air from her sudden entry. Veronica's breath caught in her throat as the bitter stench of death struck her senses like a sledge. Mounds of ash had spread across the floor – the last remains of vaporized corpses. Half a dozen bodies lay strewn around the room with three more lying in its center, fallen forward with their arms tied behind their backs. She froze at the sight of one of the bound corpses, its blonde hair fallen haphazardly across the ground and the nails on its hands painted crimson.
Without knowing how she got there, Veronica was suddenly on her knees, lifting the body from the bloodstained ash and turning it to face her. Lyn's eyes were open, but her piercing blue gaze was vacant. A hole the size of a bottle cap scarred the center of the woman's forehead, blood seeping from the gaping wound.
Veronica clutched the corpse to her chest, grief tearing its way through her with ragged cries.
"I'm sorry, Veronica."
She looked up. Four Brotherhood paladins were grouped around her, their weapons held loosely in their arms.
"Why?" She pleaded, her voice broken and quiet.
"We've been watching the Followers since you first arrived. When you left and the outpost leader returned alone to begin constructing a point-to-point communicator, we knew you had shared Brotherhood technology," one of them answered, she couldn't tell which.
"I didn't… they–"
"Passing Brotherhood secrets to outsiders is the lowest form of treason," a second voice stated. "In the name of the Elder, I sentence you to death."
Veronica dropped her gaze to Lyn's face, brushing a stray hair from the woman's forehead before clutching her tightly. She felt the barrel of a gun push against the back of her head and closed her eyes, tears falling freely into her lover's hair.
Suddenly, the outpost's door slammed open. The gun lifted from Veronica's head, but she refused to open her eyes.
"This is none of your concern, Courier," a voice different from the others stated.
"Leave. Now," the Courier's voice hissed – a whisper carrying the weight of death behind it.
Silence followed the Courier's demand. The sound of a heavy footstep caused the Brotherhood Paladins to ready their weapons, laser optics humming dangerously. The gun barrel returned to the back of Veronica's head.
"Stay back, or I'll–"
Veronica screamed in fury and reached behind her head, yanking the Guass rifle from the Paladin's hands and rising violently. Slamming the butt of the weapon into the soldier's head, she turned and aimed the rifle at the man's chest. Laser fire erupted behind her, but she didn't care.
Propelled by a series of electromagnetic coils to speeds approaching Mach 3, the Guass rifle's projectile tore through the Paladin's armor like wet paper and sent him flying against the wall behind him. Veronica walked forward, waiting patiently for the weapon to recharge.
The second shot punched through the Paladin's heart and blood erupted from his chestplate. The third slammed through the armored helmet as well as the wood behind it. The forth destroyed the helmet completely. The fifth tore apart the corpse's waist and caused the body to slide limply to the ground.
Veronica continued to pull the weapon's trigger, but its magazine was empty. She grabbed the barrel of the rifle – not caring as the burning metal scarred her hands – and began to beat the armored corpse in front of her, screaming in powerless rage.
A hand grasped her shoulder and she lashed out at it, catching the man behind her with a glancing blow. Before she could ready another strike, the figure yanked the weapon from her hands and spun her around.
The Courier held her shoulders tightly – a streak of laser burns flaring angrily across his arm and a cut across his forehead bleeding heavily. Veronica struck her fist against his chest, screaming once more before her shoulders slumped wearily. Suddenly, her legs lost all their strength, and the Courier supported her as she fell to the ash covered ground.
"It's all my fault… It's all my fault…" she sobbed repeatedly, clutching the Courier helplessly.
Denn could only hold her in silence – his eyes locked unblinkingly onto the corpse of the Brotherhood Paladin before him.
.
.
October 22nd, 2281, 2:59 a.m.
A loud knock dragged Veronica out of her slumber and she bolted up into a sitting position, cold sweat covering her skin. A second knock reverberated through the room. Reluctantly, she pulled herself from the bed and walked over to the door, releasing it's locking mechanism and allowing it to slide open.
"We're leaving in an hour," the Courier said quietly, holding out a see-through plastic bag containing a cleaned NCR uniform and matching helmet. The Courier was wearing a similar uniform, with a bandana wrapped tightly around his face and a goggled helmet strapped to his head.
"Yeah," Veronica replied, grabbing the bag and keying the doorway closed.
Denn caught the door and held it open. Veronica stared at him and whatever he had wanted to say died weakly in his throat. They stood in silence for a moment – the low hum of the Lucky 38 a quiet reminder of the passage of time.
"You don't… have to do this," Denn said finally, fingers clenching the smooth metal of the door tightly.
"I know… I'm going to, though," Veronica stated, reaching out and gripping the Courier's shoulder. "There's no way I'm letting my friends take the worst the wasteland has to offer while I sit in a tower and cry."
"Everyone grieves."
"I know… and I will, just not… not right now."
The Courier nodded. "Before you put the uniform on, go see Raul and Arcade. They have something for you."
"Oh? What is it?
"They asked me to keep it a surprise. Wear your jumpsuit, by the way."
"Power armor?"
"You'll have to ask them."