"Veronica, we've got company." "What, who?" "Legion." Even at a hundred yards, those outfits were unmistakable. The four Legion soldiers approaching them raised their weapons as they started firing. Mark grabbed Veronica and dragged her into a nearby ditch. "Why are legion attacking us? Didn't you get away clean from the Fort?" Veronica asked. "Not now," Mark said as he reached into his bag. "Do you have a weapon besides your power fist?" Mark looked up, and saw that she had a submachine gun in her left hand. "Where did that come- you know what, never mind." Mark peeked over the edge of the ditch. His best guess now put the Legion soldiers at sixty yards.
Veronica started firing blindly over the edge of the ditch. Mark put down his assault rifle and pulled another weapon out of his bag. Veronica continued to fire. "Is that a gauss rifle?" she asked incredulously. "Yep." Mark didn't have time to properly line up a shot, so he looked over quick and fired. He got one of the soldiers with a headshot. The remaining soldiers did not waver and continued to advance. Veronica was able to get one of the soldiers in the knee, and Mark was able to fire a projectile through his neck. "Two down, two to go," Mark said. Mark took another look, and got an idea. He quickly reached into his bag. "Give me your wrist," Mark said. "What? Why?" Veronica asked. "Just trust me."
The Legion soldiers noticed that the return fire had stopped, so they approached the ditch carefully. "Reveal yourself, profligates. The mighty Caesar has marked you for death, Courier, and that woman will make an excellent slave. Face your fates with dignity." There was no response. They came upon the ditch and aimed their weapons. All they saw was Mark's assault rifle, his bag, and Veronica's submachine gun. "Where are you, profligates? You will reveal yourselves this instant." "You got it," came Mark's voice, seemingly out of nowhere. The soldiers looked around, when from behind them, Mark and Veronica appeared out of thin air. The soldiers attempted to fire, but Mark and Veronica were quicker. Veronica smashed one of them in the gut with her power fist, causing him to drop his weapon and fly into the ditch. Simultaneously, Mark aimed his gauss rifle at the other soldier's head and fired point blank. Blood spattered on his armor as the soldier dropped his weapon and fell dead to the ground.
They went into the ditch, and saw that the soldier that Veronica punched was alive, but just barely. He was holding his stomach and was coughing up blood. He smiled evilly at the both of them. "Do not think you have won, Courier. Caesar's mighty army will soon rule this land, and there will be nowhere for you to hide. More will be coming for you. Cut off one head and two more will grow in its place." "So," Mark said, making sure his pistol was loaded, "does that mean that there will be eight of you next time? Caesar can send all of the soldiers he wants, but it won't make one damn difference. They will all die, and Caesar will burn in hell. Say hi to him for me when he gets there." Mark fired one round into the soldiers head. Veronica looked at the carnage as she put her hands on her knees and caught her breath.
"So," she said, "a gauss rifle, huh?" "Yep, or as I like to call it, emergency weapon number two. I modified it to hold more ammo at once." "Where'd you find that?" "Scavenging," Mark said quickly. This was actually another weapon he had gotten from the Anchorage Simulation, but Veronica didn't need to know about that. "That's your story? You found a gauss rifle just scavenging?" "That's my story and I'm sticking to it. That was one hell of a punch, by the way. Remind me to never get on your bad side." "You got it." They went around to each of the bodies and collected the spoils of war. In total, they collected an assault carbine, a couple of 12.7 mm submachine guns, a brush gun, ammunition for the guns, some plasma and frag grenades, and some anti-venom.
"So, I'm guessing that you didn't exactly get away clean from the Fort." "Not exactly," Mark said as they loaded everything into his bag, "they may have seen my face. Honestly, I'm not worried. This is hardly the first time that a hit squad has tried to kill me." "It isn't?" "Nope, and if old baldie is sending them after me, then that means he thinks that I'm a threat. And you know what? He's damn right that I'm a threat. Come on, let's go."
(Same time, fiend territory)
They were scouting out the location of the last fiend leader that Major Dhatri wanted killed. They had already killed the fiend leaders called Violetta and Driver Nephi. As proof of their kills, Major Dhatri wanted their heads. Amata felt that it was a bit gruesome, so Boone chopped off the heads and Cass volunteered to carry them in a makeshift sack. Violetta did not have any other fiends with her, only a pack of about six or seven dogs. Boone was able to get a clean shot through her heart with his rifle. The noise had attracted the dogs to their position, but with their combined firepower, they were able to put them down easily.
Driver Nephi was the second fiend leader they had taken out. He got his name because of the golf driver that he carried around. According to Major Dhatri, 1st Recon had been sent to kill him, but he had foiled their attempts because he used other fiends as human shields, and that he was deceptively fast, killing armed NCR soldiers before they knew what happened. So they decided to send ED-E in first as a distraction. While Nephi tried to hit ED-E and the other fiends tried to shoot him, the rest of the group surrounded the fiends and were able to kill all of them. Now they were deciding on the best course of action for the third fiend, who went by the name of Cook-Cook. He was called that because he had a penchant for using a flamer, and oddly enough, he was apparently a good cook. How they knew that, Amata had no idea, and didn't ask.
Cook-Cook and the rest of his compatriots were in a hollowed-out, one-story building. Amata and the rest of them were lying prone on a hill about one hundred-fifty yards away. ED-E couldn't lie down, so he floated down as low as he could. "So," Amata asked Boone, "how do you wanna play this?" Boone stared at the building. "You know," he said, "there was a rumor going around that he has a soft spot for a brahmin that he named, 'Queenie.'" "Queenie?" Arcade said, a bit perplexed. "I don't know. Call it a hunch, but if that brahmin were to suddenly die, I don't think he would be particularly happy about it." "So yer plan is ta kill a brahmin in tha hopes that he goes bat-shit crazy and they kill each other?" Cass asked. "They're all hopped up on jet and psycho. Half the time they're shooting at things that are only in their heads."
Amata took a pair of binoculars out of a brown satchel bag that she had found in one of the stores in the Lucky 38. She liked it because it was smaller and less cumbersome than her duffel bag. "Ok," she said, analyzing the area, "I see two brahmin, and there doesn't seem to be any way to differentiate from the two." "So we kill them both," Boone said. He looked at Amata. "How good of a long-distance shot are you with your rifle?" "I like to think that I can hold my own." "Alright. There's no wind, so this should be an easy shot." They picked up their respective rifles and stared down their scopes. "I got the one on the left, you got the one on the right." "Copy that," Amata said, taking a deep breath. "On three. One. Two. Three." Amata exhaled and fired, as did Boone. Both brahmin had fallen over. Amata picked up her binoculars. "Okay, they're scrambling, but it doesn't look like they've noticed us."
They waited for a minute, and then they heard a blood-curdling scream. "I think Cook-Cook noticed," Amata said. They heard gunshots coming from inside the building, and Amata saw someone using a flamer. Once everything died down, Amata scanned the area. "I don't see any movement. Let's go check it out." They got up. "Alright everyone," Boone said, "listen up. We're in fiend territory. Keep on your toes. You see any movement, you call it out. We go in, we get the head, and we get out. Above all else, everyone stay together." "You guys are sure there's no one else in there?" Arcade asked nervously. "C'mon, Gannon," Cass said, "what're ya, chicken?" "No," he said, although the nervousness in his voice betrayed him, "it just-it's…Amata! Yes, Amata, that's it. She is pregnant, after all, and this is a dangerous area." "Arcade," Amata said, patting him on the back, "I appreciate the worry, but I'll be fine. And if we hadn't already killed a bunch of fiends, I may have actually believed you."
"Enough talking," Boone commanded, "let's get moving". They approached the building very carefully. They checked out the interior of the building. They saw the bodies of the fiends lying about, some burned, all of them shot and bloody. Boone found Cook-Cook. "Finally got you, you disgusting bastard. You won't be-" He was interrupted by gunfire. "EVERYONE GET DOWN!" Boone yelled. "Fiends, twelve o'clock!" Amata called out. Boone carefully looked through a window. He saw three fiends. He got one with a headshot, and the other two scrambled to get behind a pile of rubble. "Anyone have a clear shot?" Boone called out. "No," Arcade said. "Nope," was Cass' response. "I think I can circle around," Amata said, "ED-E, can you give me a distraction?" ED-E beeped and headed off over the pile. Amata took off. "Amata, no, stay-" Boone's words fell on deaf ears as she got up and move away from him. Using another building as cover, she saw the fiends trying to shoot ED-E, who was moving too fast for them. Amata took two quick shots in succession, and both fiends fell.
ED-E flew over to her. She smiled and patted him on the chassis. "Thank you, ED-E." ED-E beeped happily in response. Amata saw the other three approaching her. "Hey guys, I got-" "What part of 'stay together' did you not understand?" Boone said, scowling. "Running off like that, that's what gets people killed." "Look, Boone" Amata said, feeling like her father was chastising her, "I thought-" "No, you didn't think. That's the problem. What if there were other fiends behind you? I said stay together for a reason." He pursed his lips. "You know what, forget it. Let's just get the damn head and get out of here."
(15 minutes later, Hidden Valley)
Mark and Veronica stood in front of the door that Veronica said led to the Brotherhood's base of operations. They were in a large area surrounded by a chain-link fence with a few other bunkers in the area. There was graffiti on the concrete walls surrounding the door, such as 'Ban the Bomb,' and 'Give peace a chance.' "It's an interesting place for them to set up, I'll give them that," Mark said. "That's kinda the point. Who'd think to look here for a military organization?" "Makes sense, I guess. Ready to go in?" Veronica looked a bit uneasy. "Umm," she said, "before we go in, there's something else you need to know. We're kinda under a lockdown right now, and we have been for a little while now."
"Ok, how long? Couple months?" Mark asked. "Not exactly. It's been more like five years." "Sorry," Mark said, "could you say that again, because it sounded like you said five years." "Yeah, I did. There are some exceptions, such as myself, but the majority of everyone down there hasn't left the bunker, and tensions are running extremely high right now. Please just do me a favor, and don't make things a repeat of what happened with General Oliver." "Veronica, I have no intention of doing that, partly because I'm pretty sure they would have no qualms about shooting me, and I'm guessing they have more than pistols."
Veronica closed her eyes took a deep breath, and smiled. For some reason, Mark was reminded of something the Forecaster said at the 188 when he first met Veronica: "...with regret comes a girl, smiling sad, brown robe, named Veronica, half here, half there. Wraps her heart up like a pack…" Did that mean that Veronica's been wearing a mask, and all of this smiling was just a façade? Mark thought back. Had he ever seen Veronica truly smile? "Mark, you with me?" Veronica said, snapping her fingers in front of his face. The door was open. "Oh, yeah, I'm coming."
They walked down a set of stairs into a chamber that was dimly lit, with some crates, a couple of metal barricades, and a door on the other side. Mark looked around. "Uh, not exactly what I was expecting," he said. "Don't be stupid," Veronica said "this is just the antechamber. Oh, and, um, could you do me a favor and take your helmet off and put your rifle away? It might send the wrong message if it looks like you're here to assault the place." "As you wish." Mark took off his helmet and put that and his assault rifle in his bag. Veronica approached an intercom that was next to the door, and pressed a button.
"Yeah, I'd like a large atomic shake and a double brahmin burger. And easy on the agave sauce this time." Mark burst out laughing. A man answered. "We gave you a password for a reason, Veronica. It's for your safety." "I know where you live, Ramos. Open up." Ramos sighed. "For Pete's sake. Opening up. Welcome back, Veronica." The door slid upwards, revealing a staircase. "Is this what you normally do when you come back?" Mark asked. "More or less," Veronica said, "shall we?" Mark gestured to the stairs. "After you. This is your house." They descended a long staircase, and came to a small room with doors on either side of them and a Brotherhood flag on the wall opposite them. "How ya doing, Ramos?" A man of Hispanic descent, with messy black hair and wearing T-51b power armor, and a gauss rifle strapped to his back, approached Veronica. "Hey yourself, kiddo," Ramos said, smiling.
The smile turned to a look of concern when he turned to Mark. "Who's your friend, Veronica?" "Ramos, this is my friend Mark Franklin. Mark, this is Paladin Jason Ramos, our head of security." Mark extended his right hand for Ramos to shake but it never came. Mark lowered it. "I don't know why you're here, outsider, but before you proceed, I'm going to have to ask you to disarm." "I'm not going to be attacked while I'm down here, am I?" Mark said, crossing his arms. "No," Ramos said, "no one will attack you unless provoked. Stay out of trouble, and you'll be fine." Mark looked at Veronica, who nodded. "Alright," Mark said. He took off his 10 mm pistol, 9 mm pistol, the various grenades he had on his belt, and the trench knife strapped to his leg, and put everything in his bag.
He put the bag at Ramos' feet. "Here you go. Just so we're clear, I know what's in there, and how much of everything is in there, and I expect it to all be there when I get back." "No one will touch your belongings," Ramos said. "Another thing. Since you're here with Veronica, I'm inclined to cut you some slack. But while you are here, you are her responsibility." "Ramos," Veronica said, "he's not gonna do anything. I wouldn't have brought him down here if I thought he was." "Ramos, I'm not here to cause trouble, but if I am attacked, I will defend myself," Mark said. Ramos nodded. "Understood." Veronica put her hand on Mark's arm. "Come on Mark, let's go," she said. "Nice to meet you, Ramos," Mark said as they descended another staircase.
Veronica wasn't kidding when she said tensions were running high. Perhaps it was the tension, or the close quarters, but Mark was strongly reminded of when he returned to the Vault, although the vault didn't have turrets sitting around every corner. If it did, there would have been an entirely different set of problems for him to deal with. As they walked through the base, Veronica seemingly said hi to everyone, and knew everyone by name. Mark wasn't really surprised. In the vault, he knew basically everyone's names, which tends to happen when you're in close quarters for an extended period of time. Most of the people either said hi to Veronica and ignored Mark, or ignored both of them altogether.
"Veronica!" a seemingly cheery voice called out from behind them. Veronica clenched her fists. She knew who it was without turning around. Mark and Veronica both turned around. "Watkins!" Veronica said, an extremely forced smile on her face. Watkins was a young woman with bright yellow hair and hazel eyes, wearing recon armor. "Still hiding that hair of yours under that hood, Veronica?" Watkins said. "Watkins, you're wearing so much makeup, I can barely notice that lazy eye of yours anymore," Veronica retorted. Mark watched with interest, but kept his mouth shut and his face neutral. He learned a long time ago that this was how women acted when they despised each other. "So why are you back, Veronica? Gonna try to talk to the Elder again?"
She looked at Mark. "Who are you?" Watkins asked. Mark said nothing. "What, are you slow? Do…you…understand…what…I'm…saying?" She said slow and mockingly, waving her arms for added effect. "Do…you…speak…English?" "Watkins," Veronica said "cut it-" Mark raised his hand to stop her. "I speak English just fine," Mark said. "What I don't speak is bitch, but apparently you speak that fluently." Her face dropped, and Veronica snickered. "What-I-you-did-" Watkins stammered. "Now who doesn't understand English, Watkins," Veronica said. She tapped Mark on the shoulder. "Come on Mark, let's go." As they walked away, Veronica looked over her shoulder at Watkins, who was still fuming. "You might wanna go see Schuler and get some ointment for that burn, Watkins," Veronica said, grinning. She then turned to Mark and gave him a high five.
After getting to a landing on what Mark guessed was the fourth floor, Veronica led him through a door to their right, and through a small, curved hallway. They came into a large, circular room. Inside the room was a raised desk in the center with a terminal on it, and on the wall at the back of the room was a physical representation of the Brotherhood symbol made out of metal. There were two knights guarding the door, and sitting at the desk was a grey-haired Caucasian man who looked to be around fifty years old, wearing an intricately designed blue robe. He smiled when he saw Veronica. "Ah, Veronica, how goes your mission?" "We'll see in a second," she said under her breath. She walked up the stairs to the desk. She crossed her arms and looked him in the eye.
"We need to talk," she said matter-of-factly. He got an exasperated look on his face. "Veronica, please tell me this isn't about-" "Yes it is, goddammit, and this time, you're gonna listen! But not to me. I've tried again and again to convince you, and it has gotten us nowhere. I brought a friend with me. He's not from around here. He's from DC, and he worked with the Brotherhood out there. I think an outsider's perspective is what we've sorely been lacking." She walked down the steps and faced Mark. "Go ahead. See if you can talk some sense into him."
Mark approached the desk slowly. "Elder, my name is Mark Franklin," Mark said as he stuck out his hand. "Elder Nolan McNamara," McNamara said as they shook hands. "Mr. Franklin, excuse me for being blunt, but I find it hard to believe Veronica just happened to meet someone who worked with the Brotherhood, much less the DC chapter." Mark chuckled. "It's okay, Elder. If I was in your position, I'd find it hard to believe myself. Good thing I brought evidence." Mark took a metal chain with two thin, grey, oval-shaped items attached off of his neck, and put them on McNamara's desk. "I'm sure you recognize them as Brotherhood holotags." The tags themselves didn't have anything printed on them; they were more like data storage devices, and you needed a special device to read them, which the Elder also had on his desk.
The Elder picked them up and hooked one of the tags up to the device. While he read, Veronica dragged him back down to the ground level. "I thought you said you weren't Brotherhood," she whispered, a bit panicked. "Technically, I'm not. It's more of an honorary thing, but they insisted I take them, just in case." The both of them looked at Elder McNamara, who had an indecipherable look on his face. "Knights, Scribe Santangelo," he said, "please leave the room and shut the door. I wish to speak with Mr. Franklin alone." As if they had rehearsed it, the two knights and Veronica all said, "but Elder…" "It was not a suggestion. Please leave and shut the door behind you." Veronica looked at Mark nervously. "Alright, Mark, I'll be waiting outside." "Don't worry, Veronica," Mark said, I'll be fine." Veronica and the two knights left the room, and Mark looked back at McNamara.
"Yes, Mr. Franklin, these are Brotherhood holotags. They have all of your physical identifiers in case you should die in the field. It also lists you as an honorary Paladin of the Brotherhood of Steel, as well as an honorary member of the Lyons Pride." "The Pride, I know." Mark said. "They're the Brotherhood's elite forces. Sentinel Sarah Lyons is a hell of a leader, and a close personal friend to boot." "Yes," McNamara said, "she was here, and I know about the Pride. What I'm more interested in is this addendum. I'm sure you already know what it says. It states: "While the rank of Paladin listed in the Codex is honorary, Mr. Franklin is to be give full access to the Citadel and all of its facilities. Furthermore, as requested by Sentinel Sarah Lyons, and as ordered by Elder Owyn Lyons, Mr. Franklin is to be given full access to all documented information, including those considered to be restricted or classified. He is permitted to come and go as he pleases, and should he choose to accompany any Brotherhood personnel on missions, he is considered to be in a command position. Mr. Franklin has proven himself to be an invaluable asset to the Brotherhood. He is proof that we are on the right path, that the best and brightest are not always born into our ranks."
McNamara looked at Mark. "Mr. Franklin, quite honestly, I have never seen anything like this. Are you aware that while the DC chapter was here, Sentinel Lyons spoke of a man who she met, who was fresh out of a vault, and while she did not think much of him at first, and though their first meeting was short, he proved himself to be quite the capable fighter. The next time she saw him, he had just led a team of scientists to safety, fighting single-handedly through feral ghouls and a decent number of Enclave troopers. He had done this after watching his own father die, and he was a mess. She also said he was ready to sacrifice himself for the good of the wasteland. He then assisted the Brotherhood with destroying the Enclave and ridding the area of super mutants and other threats. I did not believe it, but I now believe that man, who Sentinel Lyons claimed did the impossible on a near-daily basis, is standing before me. Am I correct?" "You are correct, Elder." "She spoke very highly of you, Mr. Franklin. She said that although you did not officially join, your loyalty to the Brotherhood and Elder Lyons never wavered."
"Elder, with all due respect, I am not here to talk about the past. I am here because Veronica thinks I can get through to you." "Mr. Franklin, if you worked with the Brotherhood, then you know of the Codex, and that it forbids outsiders from joining our ranks. Elder Lyons may have strayed, but here we remain true to our roots." "Yes," Mark said, "I know of the Codex, who wrote it, and why they wrote it." Mark paused for a moment. "Elder, are you aware of the vaults that were built prior to the Great War?" "I am, yes." "Then you know that while their stated purpose was to save humanity, their real purpose was to run sometimes inhumane experiments on certain segments of the population. Elder, I am from Vault 101. Nice place, on the surface. The experiment attached to my vault was bad, but there were others in the area that were really fucked up."
"There was Vault 92, whose stated purpose was to preserve musical talent. Its true purpose was to use white noise to plant subliminal messages in the residents' minds to create super soldiers. Nearly everyone in that vault went insane. Then there was Vault 87, where they fucked with FEV, which is where all of the super mutants came from." "You know about the FEV?" McNamara asked. "Yes, I do, although the Brotherhood and I blew up that part of the vault, so we were finally able to exterminate the super mutants. Now, back to Vault 101. The experiment was when the vault was sealed, it was never supposed to open again. So it was only a matter of time when, not if, it would fail. Now, the vault had actually been opened multiple times. One of the times was when my dad brought me into the vault as an infant. My classmates and I, we were all told that we the vault had never been opened, that we were all born in the vault, and that the wastes were uninhabitable. Then, about five, six months or so ago, my dad escaped, and I was forced out by the insane Overseer."
"While I was gone, there was a rebellion. All of the kids I grew up found out we had been lied to, and they wanted to see the outside world for themselves. My wife was their leader. She went up against the Overseer, who just happened to be her father. Eventually, I came back and I forced him to see the light, that the Vault was doomed if things didn't change. You seem like a smart man, Elder. I'm sure you can see the parallels between what happened there and what's happening here." McNamara sighed. "I know. There's just nothing I can do about it." "Sir, there is something you can do. You can change." "No, I can't. There are people aiming to replace me because of the lockdown, and if I try to change the Codex unilaterally, that'll give them the ammunition they need."
Mark rubbed his temple. "Sir, when Elder Lyons arrived in DC, he saw the populace being overrun and terrorized by super mutants, raiders, and slavers. He followed his conscience, and decided that protecting the people was a more worthy cause than simply collecting technology, and he was ostracized for it. He accepted outsiders, and he was ostracized for it. But he never wavered in his convictions. When the people in DC saw that power armor, they saw heroes. They saw safety. They saw their best chance for peace. The people out here, they could use that protection in the worst way. We both see the writing on the wall. If you refuse to change, everything down here is going to be lost to time, and that's a damn shame. She hasn't said it, but Veronica knows where all of this is heading, and it's killing her to watch her family just waste away. It was right there in my holotags. The best and brightest are not always born into your ranks."
McNamara looked down at his desk, then back at Mark. "Mr. Franklin, you are a good man, and it warms my heart to know that Veronica has a friend like you looking out for her, but I'm sorry. My hands are tied." Mark sighed. "I'm sorry, too, Elder. Before I go, there was one more thing. There was a woman that Veronica was close with. She said her name is Christine." "Scribe Christine Royce, yes." "I need to know where she is." "I assume Veronica told you what happened, so why would you think I would know where she is?" McNamara asked. "Well, my first clue was when you called her a "scribe," and not "former scribe." Besides, I don't think you can afford to be losing people at this point."
McNamara contemplated it. "You are correct. She is elsewhere, but her mission is confidential." Mark held up his holotags. "And yet, I am entitled to view classified information, and if I remember what I was told, the High Elders in Lost Hills still consider Owyn Lyons to be an Elder, so his order still carries weight. Sir, I don't want to know the mission, just her location. If you won't do it for me, then do it for Veronica. She deserves to be happy, and I know we both want what's best for her."
McNamara sighed and searched through his terminal. "Scribe Royce is currently tracking a target. She was supposed to check in a week ago, but did not. Her whereabouts are currently unknown." Mark was silent for a few moments. "Thank you. It was a pleasure to meet you, Elder McNamara." "You as well, Mr. Franklin. I wish things could be different." "So do I, Elder, so do I." Mark walked to the door. Before he opened it, Mark looked over his shoulder and spoke. "Do not go where the path may lead. Go instead where there is no path and leave a trail." With that, Mark opened the door and left the room.
Hope you all enjoyed the chapter. The quote in the last paragraph is by Ralph Waldo Emerson. You know, the similarities between Vault 101 and the Mojave Brotherhood never occurred to me until I started writing this story. Anyway, until next time, and reviews are welcomed and appreciated.