Power and Beauty

Synopsis: (Continuation of Safe Haven) A young woman finds herself enslaved by the Legion; 17 years later, Sage tries to get her out. (T)


Flagstaff, 2266.

When Mikayla Dean turned seventeen, her father gave in to her pleading and agreed to start taking her along on his hunting trips to Arizona. The best game was all out there, he said, and no other hunter was brave enough to risk the cazadores. Brave enough to risk the Legion was more accurate, but Charlie Dean had an arrangement with the patrols, in exchange for a portion of the game he bagged. He could offload some extra weight, and the Legion got fresh meat. Most importantly, the Deans got protected passage.

It was safe.

They didn't tell Charlie that the protection only applied to him. They didn't tell him that they found his daughter exquisitely, irresistibly beautiful. They didn't tell him that Legion patrols were paid for bringing in valuable captures.

Mikayla was nineteen. It was night. They were about to finish the trip and head home. Dad wanted to eat enough to lighten the brahmins' load. Mikayla didn't. She was very much aware of her beauty — sunstreaked golden hair, eyes a vibrant, expansive green —and didn't want to ruin her figure. Her father dismissed her vanity with a chuckle and told her she'd always be his little girl. They teased. A playful punch was thrown. Mikayla left the tent to use the bathroom.

She would never see her father again.

Many days later, she found herself in a dusty, crowded slave pen in Flagstaff, Arizona. She lay on her side, trying to find a head position that wouldn't have her feeling hyperaware of the heavy metal collar clasped around her neck. She had been scared for long enough that the adrenaline had stopped trying to keep up. The fear was a bleak thrum in the back of her mind. Her main concern right now was that she smelled. Like, a lot.

Mikayla was aware, of course, that she was a hot commodity. It wasn't as if she didn't know what the Legion did with its women. All the horrible possibilities were very real to her, but all she could think about was how awkward it would be if any guy tried to drag her off right now, before she could get some sort of shower. Not that she cared about the hypothetical man's comfort, but the thought that it would be gross on top of everything... for some reason, she fixated on it.

It made her angry in addition to the fear, but she didn't really have the energy to be angry. It all mixed together, heavy and flat, in the bottom of her stomach, along with the squirrel and yucca they'd fed her. Instead of angry, she just felt sick.

She languished in the dirt, morose people strewn about the pen like discarded rags. She became aware, slowly, of activity at the edges of the pen. Her eyes closed as her heart weakly started up again. The captives were moving out.


"You're gonna get us all killed," Boone muttered, amusement breaking through his flat exterior.

"I am not," growled Arcade.

"I dunno, your knuckles are looking a little white on the controls, there," added Veronica, popping her head into the cockpit.

"That's it," he snapped. "I'm putting this thing in a lake. You can start debating about the afterlife while I find one."

"Daisy would kill you," said Sage.

"Did you miss the part about all of us being dead?"

"She'd find you and Frankenstein you back to life and then kill you. And then make me steal Bear Force One for her."

"Did you miss the part about you being dead?"

"Joshua and I can't die. They'll find the wreckage a year later and we'll just be playing cards and snacking on all of your mummified corpses." Joshua didn't respond, but Sage could practically hear him rolling his eyes. He was sequestered to one of the seats in the back to keep him as far away from Boone as possible. Boone, on the other hand, had been assigned to the copilot's seat, ostensibly because of his well-trained eyes. He made no indication that he knew it was really to avoid an altercation, but he seemed to be enjoying the opportunity to torment their novice pilot.

The passenger seats consisted of two rows of three facing each other. The seating was designed for the bulk of power armor, and the vertibird only had four passengers, so there was plenty of legroom. Otherwise Sage would have found away to shove herself between Joshua and Cass, to give them as little contact with each other as possible. They seemed to be taking care of that on their own, though, because they'd pretty much ignored each other since the first argument. Joshua had extended his I'm-putting-up-with-you politeness to the other members of Sage's team, to the point where he was even chilly towards Veronica, who had been nothing but sweet during the weeks of preparation for these peace talks. The only one he actively got along with was Raul, who wasn't coming along for his and the Legion's safety.

"Watch out — there's a bird!" Boone shouted suddenly, and the vertibird took a sickening lurch in the direction opposite his pointing finger.

It righted quickly, and Arcade made a noise that resembled a cross between a quack and the sound a fire gecko makes when it dies. Boone huffed his version of a laugh, quiet and dark.

"Boone, if you're gonna be suicidal, do it on your own time!" Cass snapped, holding her hat protectively.

"Gotta be prepared for anything," said Boone, folding his hands behind his head.

Arcade found his voice. "Well, can you wait until I have more experience than the equivalent of a learner's permit? Unlike you, I have plans for the rest of my life."

"Yeah, sure. Like what?"

"I'd like to stay alive long enough to actually do something with the Remnants' legacy."

"Like genocide?" Veronica suggested innocently.

Arcade hmmphed. "I said the Remnants, not the Enclave."

"It's one thing to honor your family and utilize some cool tech," Sage said conciliatorily. "Not the same as conforming to the Enclave's ideals."

"Well, exactly," confirmed Arcade, glad that someone got it. "Not much different from you, Veronica."

"Yeah, sure," Veronica said. "We'll see in a few years when the American Southwest is another DC."

"DC as in Washington, the Capital? Woulda thought it'd be rubble now," Cass said.

"It... is," Arcade began, "but the Enclave thought it would be fitting to make a reappearance there. They went to war with the Brotherhood over it, and... well, you can probably guess who won."

"Gonna guess no one," Boone muttered.

"Yeah, you could say that," agreed Veronica. "Without any real competition, I hear the Brotherhood has gotten a little... Legion-y. No offense, Mr. Graham."

"None taken," he muttered, not looking at her.

There was an awkward pause, until Cass broke their pact of mutual unacknowledgement and snapped, "What's your problem with Veronica, anyway?"

Joshua blinked in surprise. "I'm... sorry. I hadn't meant to be rude." He actually looked flustered. "It isn't you I'm uncomfortable with. It's your weapon."

"Oh," Sage realized bluntly. Veronica was wearing Salt-Upon-Wounds's power fist.

Joshua hummed, returning to placid as usual. "That power fist," he mused, "killed my sister, in front of her husband and son. She burnt to death. We couldn't identify her body." He sounded far away. His words were followed by a silence that no one seemed to want to break.

"I'm so sorry. I had no idea," Veronica said softly.

"It's my fault. I can't believe I didn't think of that," Sage quickly interrupted.

"No, no," Joshua stated. "I've... found my peace. It irks me, some days, that Salt-Upon-Wounds still lives. But I'll always give thanks that you convinced me not to kill him."

"She got you with that bury-the-hatchet stuff too, huh?" Cass snarked. "Boone can shoot all the little old ladies he likes, though."

Sage shrugged flippantly. "He didn't ask my advice."


The sun blazed hot above, and Mikayla's slave collar was itchy with dried sweat. On the auction block, she stood head and shoulders above everyone else. Everyone except for Caesar on his throne.

There were at least a hundred men in the town square, and they were ogling her. The ragged, nondescript pre-war dress they had given her was too small, and she couldn't help but feel it was an intentional choice. They had at least allowed her a shower, if that's how you define being doused with water a few times with no privacy barriers or soap. But she was clean, and she'd gotten to take the slave collar off for a few minutes. Now, though, she was sweating away all the progress it had made.

Gabriel was staring at her too. It was more the stare a boy gives a girl than a dog gives a piece of meat, though. When she caught his eye, he smiled reassuringly. She raised her eyebrows in a question, but he shook his head grimly. His master had said no, then.

Mikayla had been a runner, meaning she had panicked and taken off rather than sit still for her inspection, despite the compelling influence of the explosive device around her neck. She ran straight into a teenager, a young one. He'd caught her and done his best to calm her down. He'd told her, with no apparent shame, that she was a valuable capture. She would be an officer's slave for sure, like him. Their conversation had been brief, but it did somehow soothe her panic. Mikayla had asked on a whim if the officer Gabriel worked for would be willing to buy her. Gabriel had promised to ask.

She didn't know why it was disappointing that his boss had said no. It wasn't as if she knew anything about the man. It was a "better the devil you know" situation, except that she only knew him in terms of an awareness that he existed. Unlike most of the men, he wasn't looking at her. He stood at Caesar's side, which meant he was far higher-ranked than Mikayla had thought. Gabriel stood at his.

Caesar was about her dad's age. He had curly, boyish blond hair. He was drinking something out of a goblet. Armored, tough-looking guards surrounded his throne, the only members of the crowd who weren't talking.

Any knowledge that she could have gleaned about her other observers faded into dust as the auctioneer's voice rose about the chattering crowd. "If the Caesar wills it, the slave auction will begin."

The laurels perched on Caesar's head bounced as he nodded assent. Mikayla's heart began to race anew.

"Plucked from the clutches of the NCR—" the auctioneer paused to allow a bout of harsh jeering at the name, until Caesar raised his hand for quiet. "—this lovely young profligate you see before you. Unblemished, untainted by man or nature."

The words made Mikayla want to run again, though there was nowhere to go. She felt disgusted — she felt disgusting. Gabriel caught her eye again. He barely smiled, but it was enough to remind her to force air into her lungs.

"Good proportions for childbearing, strong hands for work. But be warned, brothers — this one is a flight risk. Who will be the master to tame this wild beast?"

A man called out, "250 denarii!" Mikayla heard murmurs of approval. She didn't know how much that was in caps or fiat.

Suddenly, offers flew up all around. She knew this was how auctions worked, but she'd never imagined being the big-ticket item. The men's eagerness scared her.

Finally, a voice cut through the rest. "One thousand denarii," called Caesar, standing suddenly. The commotion paused as the legionaries looked around, unsure whether to bid any further. Mikayla was stunned. This guy was... big. Not even big like President Peterson. There were no debates or elections, no checks and balances. Just him.

And he was buying her.

Another bid rose up from the crowd, and it must have been from an indispensable officer, because he had the confidence to smile waggishly at Caesar as he did it.

Caesar raised his bid good-naturedly, but there was danger in his eyes that the contender wasn't close enough to see. Mikayla could see it, though — two points of darkness burning through his mask of charisma.

Caesar leaned to mutter something to Gabriel's... owner. They had a brief verbal spat that ended in a nod from the dark-haired man.

The younger officer raised his bid again. Almost before he could get the words out, Caesar announced, "The legate and I raise our bid to 3000 denarii, and let that be final."

Apparently that was a lot. Like, a-lot-a-lot. The zeitgeist of the auction had made Mikayla more valuable than she possibly could have imagined. She chided herself for thinking it; she was a person, not property, and no amount of money was enough to take her freedom away.

Yet it had.

Caesar and the legate approached the auction block. She couldn't believe she had asked for the legate to buy her. He walked with the grace and economy of motion of a deathclaw on the hunt. He was a frightening man. So was Caesar, in his own way. Mikayla wanted to shrink into a ball, but she stayed still to avoid the attention and will this horrible moment to end.

A soldier hopped onto the auction block with a paint can. Before she knew what he was doing, he had struck a cold, bleeding red X across the front of her too-small dress. As she looked down at herself, another soldier removed her slave collar. Her "buyers" had signed the documentation, and Caesar was suddenly addressing her.

"Woman, I name you Juno." His lips curled into a smile. "You will be my queen, and the mother of my empire. How does that sound?"

Mikayla didn't know what to say.


"I've had better landings," Sage muttered.

"I've had worse," Veronica chirped happily. "I think he's improving."

"Thanks," said Arcade blankly, still clutching the controls. When some of the green had drained from his face, he climbed out of the cockpit, followed by Boone.

"Not so fast," Sage stopped the sniper. "You're staying here for today."

"Hmm," Boone grunted, annoyed (and probably a little sick from the landing).

"You killed Caesar, dude. As much as I'd like to have you on my six for this, I think your presence will do more harm than good. Stay here with Joshua."

Boone raised an eyebrow distastefully over the rim of his shades. "Yeah. That'll be better."

"If you make even the most basic effort to get along, yeah. It will. We tuned my radio to the vertibird's frequency, so we'll keep you posted on any developments. If it does get messy, we'll need you two as backup, so stay on that radio."

He grit his teeth. "Whatever you say."

Sage glanced around to make sure no one was listening. "I know it feels like you're benched, but I'm counting on you, Boone. I trust you more than anyone."

He sighed. "Don't screw this one up, Six. Lot of people counting on you, too."

Sage smiled and clapped him on the shoulder. When even Boone wanted this war to end, she knew she was doing the right thing. The question was what he, or any of them, would do once it was over.


The auction continued in agonizing minutes. Mikayla was told to sit at her masters' feet, as per tradition. It couldn't have been too often that a slave was bought by two people, and it might not have even been allowed if Caesar weren't... Caesar. She tried not to steal anxious glances at them, but she could feel their eyes boring into the back of her head. Finally, Gabriel sat himself on the ground next to her. In the daylight, he looked like every bit the awkward teenager he was, rather than her calm, compassionate savior from last night, but she appreciated the show of support all the same.

A girl was herded onto the block in Mikayla's place. The auctioneer called out, "The second beauty on the market for you today is Legion-born and raised. She received training from the priestesses until her seventeenth year, when they deigned to present her to you. All the discipline a man desires in his slave. Strong heart, pleasing form. Who will bid on this one?"

Riled up from Mikayla's auction, the soldiers bid eagerly. Mikayla shook her head in horror. "She's too young..."

"Not so young," murmured Gabriel. "Look at her. The attention pleases her. She has been waiting for this moment all her life."

On second glance, the girl did look overjoyed to hear the price on her head rise. Her clothes were better, too, and her hair was done. Maybe slaves raised in the Legion were treated with a little more respect than captives.

"She's one of the lucky ones," Gabriel continued. "Most like her are never presented for auction. They become Caesar's slaves automatically after their fifteenth year."

"Then why'd he have to buy me?" Mikayla asked in an undertone.

"The thrill of it, I suspect. But since he bought you, only he and the legate have access to you." He backtracked quickly when he heard Mikayla swallow a sob. "But you will not be a slave for long, if he approves you as his queen. Being a wife is a great honor."

Mikayla bit back an angry retort. Gabriel was just trying to help, and if the men behind them noticed them speaking, which, in hindsight, they probably did, nothing she wanted to say would do her any good.

The girl was quickly shuffled off the block by a smiling soldier. She bore her red X like a crown instead of a shackle. Another collared woman was shoved up the short steps. Through her long, lank hair, it took Mikayla a moment to realize she was a ghoul. She didn't recognize her from the slave pens. Most of the captures had been sent to other cities, and none had gone to the block with her.

The soldiers were wolf-whistling and hooting like drunken men. Mikayla noticed after a second that Gabriel had his hand clenched in the dirt, and his breathing was restricted. At her curious glance, he muttered, "Don't like ghouls."

"They're just people," she answered, and he gave her a very strange look.

"This delicate goddess was allotted to us from lands unknown. If you can stand, look upon her beauty." The announcer's voice was a cruel smirk. The woman on the block looked mortified. Her hands and feet were bound, though neither of the other girls' had been.

A soldier with a mohawk rushed over to the announcer, waving a silver coin at his face in a mock show of eagerness. "I'll give you one denarius for her!" The crowd laughed heartily.

"No, that's an outrage!" shouted another, nearly knocking over his comrades. "I've got one denarius and some pocket lint!" The square's laughter rose to an uproar as men bid random, useless objects — a few stones, some of their hair.

The legate muttered behind her, "How long are you going to let this go on?" He didn't sound amused.

"Panem et circenses," Caesar laughed back.

"Wait, milord!" cried a burly man on the outskirts of the town square. "I've got a whole pile of brahmin dung back home!"

"I think we have a winner!" the announcer shouted. "The fair maiden goes — ah, Mehercule!" Suddenly, to the crowd's delight, the ghoul's collar detonated.

Mikayla could barely hear herself scream.


Neutral territory was hard to come by, pretty much anywhere, so they settled on a town within the Legion borders, given that the other two parties had aerial transportation.

The four of them walked about half a mile to the town, which was simply called Lake Pleasant. It was, unsurprisingly, set on the shores of a large lake. Sage was glad Arcade hadn't drowned them in it.

Ambassador Crocker's entourage had already arrived. He shook hands warmly with Sage; she had technically destroyed all the NCR's progress towards the Dam and devoured a good portion of their occupied territory, but being friendly with the emerging state of New Vegas could only mean profit. "Courier Six. I'm glad to be working with you again. I only wish it could be on a simpler occasion."

"No worries, Crocker. This should be no trouble at all. You just follow my lead."

The ambassador looked skeptical. "I admit your negotiation skills have proved to be effective, but this is going to get highly political. With my experience in the field, I should be the one to lead the discussion."

"Look, Dennis." Sage took a swig of sarsaparilla. "One of the two of us was able to secure peace with the Brotherhood and the Khans. One of our two states has the firepower to strongarm the Legion into a settlement. I think I'm gonna be just fine."

Cass rolled her eyes. "That's an awful big head you've got there. I think your brain's been through enough crap without having to deal with massive swelling too." She hit Sage's forehead with the heel of her hand for emphasis.

"Don't undermine my authority in front of foreign powers, Cass!"

Crocker walked away, muttering, "The emperor has no clothes."


Juno did not become a queen, nor a wife. It took about a month of awkwardness for Caesar to declare that she wasn't fit to be the mother of his heir.

He sighed and shook his head. "Beauty isn't everything."

Juno bit back an angry retort. It wasn't that she wanted to be his wife or anything. But he was being extremely rude about it, and didn't even clarify what esoteric qualities she wasn't fulfilling, or what had made him buy her in the first place if that were the case.

"I suppose she'll just have to remain a slave. Unless you want to marry her," Caesar said to Joshua, who frowned distastefully.

"I'm twice her age. And so are you, for that matter."

"I know, which is why I need to have a son as soon as possible. Too bad we don't have the capability for genetic screening here."

Making sure neither of them were looking, Gabriel mimed shooting himself in the head. Juno suppressed a giggle. He was strange by NCR standards, but Gabriel was one of the only normal things about her insane new life. He taught her the etiquette expected from a slave, and the agonizing art of not rolling one's eyes in view of one's master. Honestas, Industria, Prudentia.

"Hm," said Caesar. "I hate to let that good blood go to waste. The older they get, the more birth defects, you know. What if Gabriel—"

"He is fourteen!"

"I mean later—"

Gabriel blushed scarlet as his hair. He was infatuated with Juno, which wasn't really a secret to anyone. It was a harmless crush from a kid with limited contact with anyone else his age, and Juno really appreciated his company, so she chose not to acknowledge it.

She had been polite. She had been obedient. She had fought not to cringe at Caesar's casual touches. Desperate, panicked despair had turned to deep anxiety had turned to unease had turned to near-normalcy.

She was surprised to find that her efforts were paying off. Caesar had mostly stopped treating her like an object. She'd achieved a first-name basis with Joshua (her name was fake, of course, but she was getting used to it). He treated her with surprising respect, once those first few days of panic and insubordination had passed. He didn't expect much from her — general cooking, cleaning, stuff she would normally do for her dad. Thinking about Dad really hurt, though, so she didn't do that.

Caesar and Joshua were bickering and pacing. Juno decided to change the subject. "Gabriel?" she asked under her breath. "I can't tell. Is Joshua supposed to be like your father?"

"No," he said, too firmly. "I respect my master. We work well together."

"You get along like family."

"...Yes. But his loyalty will always lie with Caesar. In the end, I'm a slave to him. A valuable investment."

"Pity. I thought he and I were starting to be friends."

Gabriel just shrugged.


Vulpes was wearing his dog hat, so Sage knew it was gonna be a good day.

Lucius's hand was warm and callous, and it shook hers with force that could strangle a brahmin head. She noticed his greeting to the ambassador was a little less violent.

The Legion had brought an immense number of troops — Praetorians, centurions, even more child soldiers to dissuade them. It occurred to Sage, and probably to the others, that they could effectively end the Legion here and now if they called Boone and Joshua in. Of course, they wouldn't, and the Legion had taken pains to ensure that doing so would spell disaster for everyone involved.

The NCR had sent a number of rangers, including a handful of veterans. It was more protection than even the president had gotten at the Dam. Meanwhile, Sage only had three people for backup. She considered the odds pretty much even.

"Now," said Sage. "Let's keep this simple. Crocker, I know this election season is gonna be tough and you want this to go really smoothly. Lucius, you've got some big shoes to fill, and you're not used to being the negotiator. So, to cover all of our butts, I will make the terms, and you will agree to them. Best way to forego all the potential bloodshed here."

"I'm not a man of many words," Lucius agreed, before Crocker could get a word in. "Nor am I duplicitous. I understand, in that way, that I am not on a level battleground."

Ha. I've got 'em right where I want them.

"That's why I brought Vulpes Inculta with me."

"Oh, shoot."


2266-
January - Distance, No More
October - Power and Beauty
2267-2276 -
2277-
January - Sage destroys the Divide
February - First Battle of Hoover Dam
July - The Mummy Returns
August 17 - Aniss leaves Vault 101
The Prodigal Son
September - To Set the Record Straight
November - The Burned Man Walks
2278-
April - James dies (Purity War begins)
June - Guide Her Through the Night
Bitter Springs
September - Project Purity activates
November - Human Capital
2279-
Adams Air Force Base (Purity War ends)
2280-
May - Dogmeat's Vacation
August - Boones are married
2281-
New Canaan is destroyed
October 11 - Sage is shot in the head
October 19 - Sage wakes up
2282-
ED-E, My Bud
2283-
January - Second Battle of Hoover Dam
February - To Have and To Hold
April - Awake, O Sleeper
May - Worst-Case Scenario
July - Mercury's Messenger
August - Safe Haven
September - Power and Beauty (pt. 2)