The door of the bar opened with an audible creak. The hinges needed oiling, said Veronica's inner tinkerer. The place wasn't so different from most other bars across the wasteland, though the aroma coming off the beer dispenser seemed fresher than most. She didn't notice any patrons at the tables, but the day was still young. The newly poured mug likewise went straight to the lips of the barkeep.
"Bar's closed," said the elderly man between gulps.
Veronica seated herself at the counter anyway, "Sevika told me to wait for Vander."
"So, you're the survivor? Vander is going to buy this place, so if he wants to turn it into a house for strays… just mind yourself, I don't want no trouble if the enforcers barge in."
Word sure travelled fast in these parts, but for the time being, it wasn't the biggest thing on Veronica's mind. It wasn't every day she got to drink proper beer rather than the pre-war crap that was practically liquid preservative or the piss masquerading as wasteland homebrew.
Catching her look at the beer nozzle, the barkeep gave her a toothless grin, "that'll be 5 coppers."
Oh, she thought as her fingers felt the edges of the caps in her pouch. Until she could find a way to make money this was going to be a problem. She doubted NCR dollars would do her any good either and Legion coins weren't exactly being distributed across Nevada anymore.
"How about one on the house for the survivor from the bridge?" she asked with the biggest smile she could produce, recalling how the crowd had reacted to her presence there earlier.
The barkeep laughed, "Ha! I don't give out free booze. Bad for business while it's still my business. Forgive an old man for scraping a few coins. I have my retirement to think of."
Disappointed, Veronica backed away from the bar and looked for a table to bash her head against. Instead, she noticed two kids seated at the very back of the bar. The older one looked about 10 years old while the younger one looked no older than 6. They seemed to be quietly eating breakfast, or at least they would be if they'd touch their plates every now and then.
Veronica was also getting a bit hungry, but she wasn't about to take a meal off some kids even if they weren't eating it. Still, she was curious to see what manner of food were served in these parts and a little bit concerned about children sitting alone in a bar.
"Those street urchins are under Vander's protection. Last person who thought different isn't doing much thinking anymore," said the barkeep, catching sight of her look.
Veronica raised her hands up in mock surrender but then dropped her right hand rather sheepishly when she realized it wasn't broadcasting on the same wavelength as the left one.
"Sorry about that, anyway, I don't want to hurt them, they just look so lonely."
The barkeep shrugged while subtly gesturing to a big pistol near the till, "Vander only asked me to keep an eye on them. Keep your… hand to yourself and I won't get excited."
The kids didn't immediately look up as she approached them. The blue-haired girl was too busy napping with her head on the table while the redhead boy (or was it a pink-haired girl?) seemed to be staring off into space. Once Veronica got close though, the older girl tensed.
"What do you want?" she (probably she) asked in a loud voice which reminded Veronica of a lone kitten she'd once seen trying to look fearsome enough to scare off a mole rat.
Veronica took off her bag and slowly took a seat. It hadn't worked out for the kitten either. Turned out their meal wasn't that interesting, just plain old oatmeal… wait, real oatmeal?
"Relax, Vander told me to stay here for now. I am not going to hurt you."
Mentioning the buffed man's name seemed to do the trick as the girl visibly sank back into her seat, though she didn't take her eyes off Veronica or the suspicion they held for her.
Good instincts
"Could you just… keep your voice down? I don't want to wake Powder," said the girl in a much lower voice than before. Sure enough, the younger one had bags under her eyes indicating she hadn't slept too well recently. The older girl wasn't much better off.
Seeing that neither of the girls was too talkative, Veronica started rummaging through her bag to take stock. She had a decent supply of canned food, purified water, a dozen stimpacks and other medical chems. The rest consisted mostly of salvage: capacitors, sensor modules, power cells, whatever Veronica came across she could either trade or assemble into something useful. Common junk that was now irreplaceable.
Veronica moved a few stimpacks and other medical supplies from the bag to the smaller first aid pouch. She'd used up more than she'd liked getting into the mutant infested hell hole Hidden Valley had become. She doubted whether adding new doses of radscorpion antidote was necessary, but even after leaving, she still followed Brotherhood field regulations: always keep a pack of basic survival equipment at arm's reach.
Veronica pointedly ignored the fine fabric near the bottom of the bag in favour of her tools and took off the power fist. There wasn't anything specifically wrong with it, but routine checks would have to become a priority if she wanted to maintain it with limited replacement parts. It was also a way to get the red head talking. She couldn't keep her eyes off the power fist.
"Do you hit people with that?" she blurted and then scowled at herself for doing so.
Veronica smiled but kept her eyes on her work, "Sometimes, other times I punch them."
The joke went over the kid's head, but it still seemed to put her more at ease. Serious adults were the natural enemies of childhood. Silly ones could be just as stupid, but not as scary.
"I wish I had something like that," she muttered, clenching her fists.
"It wouldn't do you much good. You still need a solid foundation of muscle to carry it," said Veronica, finding it difficult to detach herself from simple technical facts while she worked.
"How does it work if it's so heavy?" said the younger girl, lifting her head from the table. Veronica suspected she had only pretended to sleep for the other girl's peace of mind.
The question gave her pause. How did you go about explaining tech to a child? Veronica had always disliked the way adults treated her like a dummy as a kid, especially when she was. Elijah never did that to her; if she didn't understand something, he taught her all about it.
Gesturing to the pipes and vents of the gauntlet, Veronica activated the power fist's maintenance testing mode and made the impactor slowly move to its hitting position.
"See the airflow coming out from the vent? The power fist compresses it and then releases it to move the impactor forward. Obviously, it does it much faster when I am fighting, but the point is that I don't spend excess energy during my attacks beyond what I need to move it around. If I give it a good run-up, it can even help with my speed as I move my arm forward."
The kid went quiet for a moment, not that Veronica had expected her to understand fully, but then she surprised her by picking up a discarded balloon from a collection of toys and crayons on the table. She filled it up with all the air her little lungs could spare, and once it was full, the kid let it go and watched on as it blew uncontrollably towards the next table.
"Powder… Vander asked you not to do that," said the other girl in a soft tone; happy that the sister (if her hunch was correct) was having fun but worried about their protector's opinion.
"…Sorry Vi," said Powder and went back to her drawing. Veronica had a sneaky suspicion she hadn't done it just because she'd been playful. The balloon had basically propelled itself on the same pneumatic principles the power fist used. To add to her guess, her new drawing looked like a battering ram shaped like her power fist with rows of pipes and vents.
Clever kid
They stayed like that for a while, going from long silences to occasional questions about her fighting style from Vi and a little prodding from the now more subdued Powder about her power fist. Veronica guessed the girls had a lot on their minds but knew better than to ask. Growing up in the Brotherhood wasn't a recipe for a quiet family life and when a kid got to school alone one morning, no one commented on it.
At least I had Father Elijah
The bar's door opened revealing none other than Vander. He didn't look very happy, especially when he spotted her with the kids. Against her better judgment, Veronica waved at him with a sheepish smile which didn't do anything to improve his mood.
"Vi, Powder? How about you hop downstairs and have a look around? We can plan where we'll set up your beds later tonight," said Vander.
Powder pouted, apparently, she'd made a bigger impression on the young girl than she'd thought. Vi, however, caught on pretty quick and gently took her sister by the arm, "Let's go Powder, we can grab the best spots before any other kids turn up."
The two adults kept on staring at each other until the kids were safely down below.
"I don't want to see you anywhere near those kids again, clear?"
"I was only keeping them company. I would never hurt them."
"Stay away from them or we'll have a problem. They are my responsibility," he persevered. Under different circumstances, Veronica would've called the papa-bear act endearing.
"If they want my company I'll give it to them, I'd do for anyone else," she insisted. It wasn't the kids per se that bugged her but the principal at stake. Most of her life had been governed by who the Brotherhood found acceptable. She wouldn't surrender the rest of it lightly.
Seeing they were at an impasse, Vander dropped the subject, "I see you took your gauntlet off. A good thing too seeing as topside is using it as part of your description. I am going back out and you're coming with me. Leave it here with Dogger, I can vouch he won't fence it."
Veronica didn't like the idea of parting with her principal weapon, but it made sense that it would get noticed, and she wasn't ready to piss off her only benefactor anymore than she had. She still had her 10mm and it wasn't like she was helpless at close quarters without it. She grudgingly deposited it on the counter and watched as the barkeep put it in a safe.
"I don't want the kids here when the work shift ends Vander. I'd keep my word, but I can't take responsibility for a full house," said the barkeep as he gave Veronica her receipt.
Vander nodded as he paid for the service, "I'll take them off your hands by then."
"So, where are we going?" asked Veronica as she followed him out.
"Dockside to show the others I've been true to my word and kept you out of Piltover's hands. Once that is done, I'm hoping I will be able to talk them into backing off a little."
Sure enough, things looked much tenser than they had been an hour or so ago. Civilians patrolled the streets with a wide array of improvised weapons from carving knives to muskets. A squad of patrolling enforces quietly backed off in a hurry when they saw them.
"Why are you doing this? Or are you helping me just out of the kindness of your heart?"
"The people of the undercity are angry and with good reason. The march on the bridge was supposed to change things for the better, but all its done was get the best of us killed. Who you are and where you're from don't matter, it's what you represent. They saw you, a dead martyr, rise up from the bodies to take another shot for the cause. It's powerful stuff."
Veronica couldn't pretend she understood the political dynamics of this strange world, but her quick look on the bridge gave her an idea. The typical city layout: Rich people in a gated community surrounded by extreme poverty. Freeside and the Strip all over again? Still, to have people dying over her mishaps (even if unintended) didn't sit well with her, not after…
"Listen, if giving me over to those enforcers is what will keep the peace between your peoples, then do it. I don't want any more of your people's blood on my hands."
Vander looked surprised at her offer, was that even respect in his eyes? Whatever it was, he smiled but shook his head, "I appreciate the offer, truly, I do. Sevika mentioned you were a stranger in these parts, and it isn't every day a stranger is willing to do something like that for other strangers. Trouble is, my people won't stand for it. Even if you weren't there by choice, giving you up would look like a betrayal of the dead."
He paused as they entered the elevator, looking a bit embarrassed, "come to think of it, what's your name? I didn't ask. Sevika only said you were from a place called Cliff-Horn"
"Veronica, and it's California. I doubt I could point it out on a map though," she chuckled.
"Nothing to be ashamed of. You'll find most people here haven't had much of an education."
Before she could clarify her meaning, the elevator arrived at sea level, with all the hustle and bustle the loading and unloading of cargo ships entailed. That is, if the workers had been doing the work instead of filling in sandbags and erecting barricades across their side of the river. The woman from before noticed their arrival and came forwards to meet them.
"We and the enforces have the bridge perimeter zeroed in with a shitload of guns. Folks wanted to do something, so we've had them building up defences along the river just case topside is feeling sneaky," she reported, while casting a dubious look at their preparations.
Vander quickly caught on, "Their undercity patrols are retreating to their outposts, so we've been able to avoid open confrontation so far. Something else on your mind Sevika?"
She didn't spell it out immediately, but when one of the work teams accidentally let an old-fashioned canon roll a little too close to the river's edge, she finally relented with a sigh.
"Most of our best fighters died on the bridge. As much as I want to get square with topside for all they've taken from us, I want to do it when we're strong enough to win. If it wasn't for all our losses, I would be taking orders, not giving them. The Lanes aren't ready for this."
'I am not ready', was what Veronica thought she was truly trying to say with too much pride to say it plainly, but Vander seemed to understand, "Let's hope it doesn't come to it then."
"Sail ahoy!" said a lookout from one of the docked ships acting as an observation point.
Sure enough, a small boat was slowly making its way towards their side of the river. The sail itself wasn't deployed but neither could Veronica see any oars which implied some sort of engine. If that were the case, perhaps they were more advanced than she'd thought.
It soon became obvious there were enforces onboard, not enough to trouble even the hodgepodge defence the Lanes had assembled, but enough to get their attention. Before anyone could take a pot shot at the boat, Vander took centre point on top of some shipping containers. Veronica almost yelped when he suddenly pulled her up after him.
"I am Vander, Hound of the Underworld and Leader of the Lanes! Yesterday I led our people on that bridge to demand what is owed to us. I've come here to show you that I'm still good on my word. Earlier today, this woman was just another body left for dead among the hundred and twenty-eight victims of topside's cruelty. She survived and gave the enforcers a knuckle sandwich when they tried to do her in again!"
Laughter erupted from the crowd, jeers that Veronica knew would be hard to miss from the boat. Vander was playing it both ways; a show of strength to unify as well as intimidate.
"Thanks to your help, she was able to escape the enforcers long enough for the Lanes to give her our protection. In return, you have accepted our leadership to help the undercity prepare while not giving those bastards any excuse to attack us before we're ready. All I ask is that you keep on doing what you've been doing! Staying cool while carrying a sharp knife. If topside wants to talk, we'll talk. If they want to fight, we'll fight. It may happen today or five years from now, but one way or another, we'll have our rent from Piltover! With interest!"
The cheering was loud enough to drown the splash of water as the enforces disembarked. The Lanes or however they were called trained their weapons but kept their cool. The enforcers responded in kind while one of them went forward carrying a white flag of truce.
"Stay with Sevika, I will handle this myself," said Vander and then went to meet the enforcer.
They talked it out for a while. The more time passed, the more fidgety everyone got, but no one dared fire first so long as Vander was down there. After about half an hour, the two sides parted with the enforcers heading back to their boat and Vander to the assembled crowd.
"What did the topsiders have to say?" shouted an impatient youth ahead of his return.
Vander unrolled a scroll, "Amnesty for everyone involved in the rebellion, including my friend here! You showed Piltover what it means to push us, and they threw the towel! Nobody here will have to fear the enforcers coming to throw them into Stillwater. Today, we can return to our homes, our families, and our jobs, but this isn't over. The Lanes will help rebuild the undercity into a powerhouse! One day this city will respect us!"
The cheering, while loud, was more muted this time. Some people rushed forward to congratulate and thank Vander while others remained behind burnishing their weapons while casting hateful looks toward the retreating enforcer ship. Sevika among the latter.
"Vander managed to spin it into a win but by tomorrow everyone will see it for what it really is," she muttered, clenching her fists as the boat passed beyond firing range.
"What do you mean? Didn't he get what you wanted?" asked Veronica.
Sevika spat at the ground, "forgiveness from the corrupt stooges on the council for fighting for our rights? I'd sooner burn the paper it was written on. Vander wants to get equality with topside, but sometimes I think we'd be better off without them as our own nation of Zaun."
Blue shards of light fell on the Mojave Desert like snowflakes even though the sky had been cloudless before nightfall. The spikes of electrical discharges only added to the mystery had any sentient been there to see it, but Hidden Valley had been chosen by its residents for its isolation.
The light was only fully visible from Black Mountain and the old Powder Ganger camp, had anyone been there to see it. Where the sentient beings had failed to see anything of note, the mutated arachnids of the Scorpion Gulch stood transfixed by the light show in front of them.
Like their pre-war ancestors, the Radscorpions did not possess good eyesight, but no matter their pre-war or post-war variant; all were sensitive and attracted to the ultraviolet blue-green spectrum. The shards and discharges seemed more overpowering than daylight to their vision.
One by one, the Radscorpions started crawling toward Hidden Valley as if pulled by a physical force. When the first group neared the shattered ruin of the Brotherhood's bunker, the electrical discharges flashed all around them, lighting up their exoskeletons in a brilliant blue cloak.
The mysterious power flowing through Hidden Valley seemed to converge on the Radscorpions for a moment, and a second later, they vanished.
Notes:
It may seem like a rather quick return to the status quo but I decided playing with the relationship between Piltover and Zaun would change the canon plotline too much too early. More to the point, I'd like to create unique challenges for Veronica to solve rather than take over aspects of the plot intended for the canon Arcane characters.
If radscoprions can crossover through Hidden Valley, who knows what else could?
Whistles innocently
I then used this chapter to introduce prologue Vi and Powder who I will probably use for some time before I time skip closer to their act 1 ages. I plan to tell cumulative short set-piece stories separated by time skips a few months/years apart.
I also tried to fill in a few gaps in the lore such as why Vander wasn't arrested as the leader of the rebellion (they got amnesty, perhaps sooner in this timeline than in canon) Sevika was also established as a Vander loyalist with doubts about his direction.
Thanks for reading,
ALoN.
I do not own Arance or New Vegas.