New Vegas: Sheason's Story

"So, where exactly is Hidden Valley, anyway?" I asked Veronica as the two of us sat in my car. "I mean, aside from hidden, obviously." We were rolling past Freeside's east gate, but I still didn't quite know exactly where I was going.

"The bunker complex is in the Black Mountain foothills," She said, staring out the window. "Couple miles directly east of Goodspings. I think it's maybe... ten miles away? I'm not quite sure on the exact distance."

"Wait, the Black Mountain foothills... isn't that going to take us perilously close to Sloan?" I asked. "Sloan and Quarry Junction are still infested with deathclaws, far as I know."

"Yeah, but we should be fine, just so long as we stay away from that stretch of the I-15. Just take that same route we took, like we're going up to Black Mountain again, and I'll give you directions from there."

"Alright, alright. But if we get eaten, I'm blaming you," I said with a chuckle. Veronica shook her head and smiled.

"I'll be sure to keep that in mind." Veronica leaned back, settling into her seat. "So, here's a question. Why'd you tell ED-E to stay behind?" I grimaced internally. Damn, I thought it would've been longer before she noticed. Ah well.

"That was your own rule, wasn't it?" I said, trying to stall for time. "I thought it was just supposed to be the two of us going to Hidden Valley. Any more, and they'd get suspicious. Isn't that what you told me?"

"Any more people is what I actually said." Veronica replied, her voice taking on a slightly annoyed quality.

"It's not like we could've convinced anyone else to come anyway," I smirked. "Before we left, I think Boone said he was going Fiend hunting, and I'm sure the others had some errands to run in Freeside."

"Seriously," Veronica sounded annoyed. "Why'd you ask him to stay behind?"

"Because," I cleared my throat. "I want to talk to Lorenzo first. Find out exactly what he wants from ED-E before I just take my friend right to him." Veronica looked confused for half a second.

"Lor- ohhh, right." Veronica started to slowly nod. "I'd almost forgotten that he wanted to get a look at ED-E."

"Well, I haven't." My eyes never left the road as I spoke. "And until I get a chance to talk to him, there's no way I'm going to risk my friend getting snatched."

"What about that Followers scientist?" Veronica asked. "Uh... what was her name again?"

"April. April Martimer. Yeah, I haven't forgotten about her either. Got the coordinates for her outpost from Arcade this morning, before we left," I held up my Pip Boy. "If we have time, I'm going to talk to them both before the day is out."

"So, what is this place anyway?" I asked as I pulled the car to a stop just outside a large fence. "I mean the name - Hidden Valley... it's not really all that descriptive." There were scattered signs all around, and they reminded me a bit of the signs just outside Boomer territory; they read things like "No photography," "Trespassers will be SHOT" and my personal favorite was the one right next to the gate that said "WARNING: US Military facility" followed by a mass of fine print text. Veronica got out of my car, unlatched the gate, and then pushed it open.

"It's a bunker complex, built by the US military before the war," Veronica said as soon as she slid back into her seat and we set off again. "It was designed to be a self-sustainable complex for high ranking members of the military and the government, but the project was abandoned long before the bombs dropped."

"Sounds a bit like the Vaults," I said; the way she was pointing, it seemed like she wanted us close to the western edge of the fence. "Why'd they abandon it?" Veronica shrugged.

"Don't really know. None of the computer systems inside say why the project was cancelled." The car rested a hill, and a bunker entrance came into view directly in front of us. "There, that's the entrance." When I got a good look, I couldn't help but be a little skeptical.

"Seriously?" the walls of the bunker were covered in tons of graffiti, and most of it was very anti-establishment. "I didn't think the Brotherhood were such fans of peace and love." There was some standard graffiti to be sure, like "Billy rules!" (and "YOU SUCK!" written directly underneath), but I saw other things like peace signs (and the word written several times as well), "Give peace a chance," "Ban the bomb," and a picture of a warhead inside a no symbol.

"It's the last place anyone would think to look, right?" Veronica said with a smirk.

"Good point," I got out of the car - and immediately was hit in the face with the cloud of dust my car had kicked up. "Augh! Oh, g- wha- pffth!" The way it stung my face, and it... when it got in my mouth, it immediately made me gag. Whatever this was, it wasn't dirt.

"Oh, gosh! I'm sorry! I forgot to mention - try not to eat any of the dust around the bunker complex!" I couldn't say anything. I was too busy trying to scrape the foul taste off my tongue and get this crap out of my face. "The bunker complex has a DERVISH camouflage system - all the soil has been laced with aluminum silicates and metallized glass fibers."

"Bleaugh! Wh- What? Why?" I finally got the last of it off my face. Thankfully, the dust had settled.

"When dispersed by the bunkers fans, it'll blanket the valley in a cloud of chaff. It's supposed to make the bunker impossible to target by radar guided missiles, but from the ground it looks like the valley is suffering from a massive, concentrated sandstorm."

"Okay," I said, coughing a few times; maybe it wasn't all out. "Got it. Don't come here at night."

"At least, not without a mask that has an air filter," Veronica said, smiling as she walked past me. "That's what I always used whenever I had to leave at night. Now, remember - until I get done with the introductions, let me do the talking, alright?" I nodded, watching as she opened the massive door that led into the complex.

"Hey, this is your show, remember. Despite everything else, the main reason we're here is because you wanted to come back. I'll behave myself." Veronica smiled... but it was kind of a half-hearted smile, mixed with a bit of worry starting to seep through. I closed the door behind us, and we descended the stairs leading deeper into the complex.

After a lengthy descent, we were deposited in a large room with walls, floors, and ceiling made out of what looked like concrete. There was hardly any clutter at all, and the only thing I could see (aside from a few scattered lights) was a metal door directly opposite the stairs, and a small intercom.

"This is... emptier than I expected," I said, looking around. Veronica just rolled her eyes.

"We're not actually in the bunker yet. Now hold on, I've got this." She cleared her throat, and pressed the button on the intercom. "I'd like a large Atomic Shake and a double Brahmin Burger. And easy on the agave sauce this time."

"Uh..." I wasn't really sure what she was getting at. And then the speaker on the wall crackled to life.

"We gave you a password, Veronica," The gruff voice sounded off from the intercom. "It's for your safety." Veronica shook her head.

"I know where you live, Ramos! Open up." The voice on the other end of the intercom sighed heavily.

"Oh, for Pete's sake. Opening up." The door popped open with a hiss, and slid into the floor. "Welcome back, Veronica."

"Told you I got this." She turned and smiled at me, waving me inside. I stayed still, motioning for her to go on ahead instead.

"After you. This is your house, after all."

After a short elevator ride, the two of us were at another set of stairs. Unlike the ones at the entrance to the bunker, everything looked like it was made out of dark green metal rather than concrete. It was a pretty tight fit, too... or maybe that was just the curved shape of the hallway giving the space an unpleasantly cramped feel. Apart from the steps themselves, there didn't appear to be any right angles down here: all the corners were rounded off.

"So, how deep does this place go, anyway?" I asked, as I walked behind her down the stairs.

"Deep enough to withstand a direct hit from a 100 kiloton nuclear warhead." Veronica rattled off, looking at me over her shoulder. The next thing I knew, the stairs ended and I was face to face with a juggernaut of immense stature and proportions.

As far as I know, there are very few people around in the wasteland nowadays who've seen someone wearing a full set of powered armor and lived to tell about it. The behemoth standing in front of me stood almost as tall as a super mutant, and every inch of it was covered in metal plates that curved around his body, creating an exaggerated over-muscled male physique. Every one of the plates had to be at least an inch thick. I remember when Veronica told me someone in powered armor could toss my car, and looking at the size of the limbs on this thing... fuck me, I could believe it. The only thing I didn't get was the purpose of the shoulders: they were huge, flared pieces of curved metal, and one of them had a symbol of the Brotherhood of Steel painted in light blue. The helmet didn't really resemble a face, but that wasn't really surprising... what surprised me was that it still looked angry. There was an obvious rebreather on the front, with hoses and tubes coming off the sides, and snaking their way to the back. Above it was a single thin strip of darkened, reflective glass instead of the usual two viewports that you'd expect on a completely enclosed helmet.

As if all that wasn't enough, this hulking monster was carrying an M72 Gauss Rifle longer than my torso, with pulsing blue lights flashing on all of the accelerator coils. One shot from that would blow me in half. All in all, a very intimidating sight - and not even Veronica calmly walking up to it, smiling away, could distract me from how terrifying it seemed up close.

"Hey, Ramos!" She pointed at the powered armor monster with both hands. "Lookin' sharp, as usual." The monster shook its head, and placed the Gauss Rifle on its back; there was a metal clunk, and a small electrical fizzling sound as it stayed in place. The behemoth reached up and unlatched the helmet, pulling it off with a hiss of displaced gas.

"Hey yourself, kiddo," the man - and it was now obviously a man - said as he took his helmet off. He had dark hair that was both closely cropped and messy at the same time, and he didn't have a beard so much as heavy stubble. His head looked comically small compared to the rest of him, now his helmet was off - but I didn't dare laugh, especially now that he was advancing on me with a scowling, stern expression on his face.

"Listen up, and listen close," he said as he loomed over me. "I'm in charge of security around here. I can't say I'm too happy having an outsider waltzing around..." He folded his arms across his chest with an audible metal clunk... and his expression softened. "However, since you came in with Veronica... I suppose I'm inclined to cut you a little slack."

"Uh. Thanks?" I said, looking up.

"Just behave yourself, outsider, and we won't have any problems."

"Oh, ease up Ramos," Veronica rolled her eyes and batted softly at one of Ramos' arms. "I wouldn't have brought him here if he was going to cause trouble. He's fine, you worry too much." Ramos looked down at Veronica with a raised eyebrow, and shook his head.

"It's my job to worry, Veronica. You should know that by now." He smiled down at her... but his smile faded when he looked back at me. "As for you? The Elder is going to want to talk to you, outsider."

"Talk to me?" I asked. Ramos nodded.

"Elder McNamara is on the lowest level. Just take a right once you get down there. And I suggest you don't keep him waiting."

"Don't worry, Ramos, we're gonna head there straight off," Veronica grabbed me by the shoulder, and led me out of the room - and down yet another set of stairs.

"So, he was... friendly," I muttered as soon as we got out of earshot. Veronica chuckled.

"Ahh, don't mind Ramos. He just takes his job seriously, that's all," She patted me on the shoulder several times. "Once you get to know him, he's really a giant softy. Like a big teddy bear!"

"Yeah, I'll just bet..." I said under my breath. "So, what kind of power armor was he wearing?" I asked. "Didn't you say there were different kinds?" Veronica nodded.

"Yeah. He was wearing T-51b, one of the more advanced models. Generally, only high ranking paladins like Ramos are allowed access. Most lower ranking paladins wear T-45d armor; it's a bit smaller, has a more blocky, rougher appearance, and it's much more common... err, comparatively speaking."

The bunker had a strange kind of duality about it. On the one hand, the walls felt really close... the sense of claustrophobia was practically palpable. But on the other hand, it also felt terrifyingly empty. There were a few people around, sure - some were wearing powered armor, others wearing more form-fitting armor covered in metal, wires, and Kevlar (It looked similar to what Veronica wore under her brown robes; she'd called it recon armor when I asked), and a few of the people walking around were wearing red robes with strange metal trim. But those people around the bunker - the upper levels, at least - were few and far between.

"Is it just me," I said, looking around. "Or are people avoiding us?" Veronica nodded slowly, shrugging.

"They're just not used to seeing anyone... new down here." I glanced down a corridor as the two of us kept walking; a pair of lightly armored Brotherhood members were staring at us, talking to each other in hushed whispers.

"Don't tell me they think I'm a threat?" I asked, almost joking. I looked down at my jeans, t-shirt, and leather jacket, and held both arms open wide. "I mean, c'mon. Look at me!" Veronica rolled her eyes.

"You have to remember: you're not Brotherhood. Anyone who isn't Brotherhood is a potential threat." She turned away and added softly: "I suppose that's how we got in this situation, hiding in a bunker..." As she said that, we passed by a bulkhead, on which was hung a large grey-backed flag with the sword-gears-wings logo of the Brotherhood painted in gold... and flanked by two large laser turrets that stood as high as my chest.

"Oh yeah, I definitely see how I'm a threat here..."

The deeper we went, the more crowded things became. It became much harder for people to avoid us... and that was when I realized Veronica knew everyone. There must have been several hundred personnel down here, and everyone who passed close enough got a personal, by-name greeting, complete with a smile and a wave.

"Heya Torres! How's the ol' cage treating you?" Veronica said, waving to a woman with short brown hair, wearing recon armor, and carrying several metal crates. Torres shrugged.

"Can't complain," she said, adjusting her grip on the crates. "Not like there's anywhere else to go, right?" She smiled at Veronica... and then scowled at me. "Watch yourself, outsider," She said, her eyes shooting daggers at me. "You can bet that we're watching you." She turned on her heel, and walked down the hall away from us.

"Don't mind Knight Torres," Veronica said to me under her breath, pointing after her. "She's the Head Quartermaster. Like Ramos, it's her job to be paranoid." Another woman - wearing one of those red robes and carrying a clipboard - passed by us, and Veronica greeted her as well. "How're you doing, Schuler?" The woman smiled and nodded.

"I'm doing quite well. Thank you for asking, Veronica." She didn't shoot me a dirty look; instead, she just ignored me as if I wasn't there.

"Linda Schuler," Veronica said as the two of us kept going. "Technically she's the Chief Medical Officer for the Chapter, but everyone around knows she's Head Scribe in all but name." We rounded a corner, and I saw a balding man wearing similar red robes as Schuler walking directly at us; he was completely absorbed in a book, and not really looking where he was going. Veronica spoke up to get his attention: "Hey, Ibsen!"

"Hmm?" He perked his head up, pushing his small rounded glasses up his nose, not even trying to hide his annoyance at being interrupted. "Oh, it's you. Hello, Veronica." He went back to reading his book and walking away; she patted him on the shoulder as he passed.

"You're looking really tired, man. Don't work yourself too hard!" Ibsen muttered something incomprehensible and waved her off as he continued down the hallway.

"Ibsen's a nice guy, he just..." Veronica grimaced and shrugged. "Sometimes he gets way too involved in his research, and forgets that other people are human beings." When we finally got close to the elevator that led to the lowest level, I just couldn't keep quiet any longer.

"So, are you friends with everybody down here?" Veronica shrugged, pressing the button to call the elevator.

"They're my family. I grew up with everyone here, so of course I'm going to know their names. Granted, I wouldn't say I'm friends with everyone..." Before the elevator arrived, a female voice sounded off behind us. It made Veronica perk her head up in a mixture of surprise and alarm.

"Well, well, well..." The voice was almost singsong; the two of us turned to face the source. A woman walked toward us with short, bleach-blonde hair in a bob cut, and wearing a set of recon armor. I wasn't quite sure, but... was she wearing eyeliner and lipstick? "Look what the bark scorpions dragged in. Haven't seen you in a while, Santangelo. Not since the last time you made a fool of yourself in front of the Elder."

"Watkins..." Veronica's whole body tensed up, hissing the name through her teeth. "You're looking well, wearing that gallon of makeup. I can hardly notice that lazy eye of yours, anymore." The blonde smiled, but the look in her eyes was pure hatred.

"You're still hiding that hair of yours with your hood, I see," As she spoke, I saw Veronica reflexively reach for her hood. "When are you going to just give up, and take a hacksaw to that long and tangled rats-nest?" Watkins then turned to look at me. "And you've picked up a stray! Didn't your parents ever tell you not to bring wild animals home?" She snapped her fingers. "Oh, that's right... I forgot."

"Hey," I said, advancing on the blonde, stepping between her and Veronica. "Who the fuck do you think you are? Shut up, leave her alone!" She looked me up and down with an expression of utter contempt and disgust - and then held a hand to her ear.

"What was that? I'm sorry, I don't understand wild dog." She turned back to Veronica. "You have fun, talking with the Elder. I'm sure he'll listen to you this time. I mean, it's not like you've tried half a dozen times before - oh, wait!" And with that, she turned on her heel with a snide laugh and walked off... just as the elevator door behind us opened.

"The fuck was that about?" I asked as the two of us stepped inside. Veronica was still obviously fuming.

"Melissa Watkins..." Both her hands were balled into fists. "Spoiled rotten bitch, thinks she can get away with anything, just because she's fucking Head Scribe Taggart..." She shook both her fists and let out an "ARGH!" through gritted teeth. "...bitch. "

"Yeah, no, I got that," I said. "But... hair? What was she talking about? I don't get it." I vaguely recalled her saying something about her hair a while back, but I couldn't remember if she gave a reason for wearing the hood. I do remember the one time I saw her long dark hair that fell down to the middle of her back... a vivid image popped into my head of Veronica and Cass standing at the threshold of her half-open door, locking lips. Veronica took a hand, gently caressing the side of Cass' face, running the tips of her fingers through red hair...

Ahem. Sorry, I went somewhere else for a moment. C'mon, focus.

"It's because my hair is..." Veronica looked at me, absentmindedly tugging at the edges of her hood again. "...long." There was an extended, heavy pause that hung in the air, as I tried to figure out what the problem was.

"Uh..." The elevator doors slid open. Veronica quickly walked forward, leading me into the narrow hallway to the right. "You lost me. What's wrong with long hair?" She sighed when I said that, stopping in her tracks to face me.

"Have you seen the women around here? The men? They all have hair that's cut short: military hair. And, at the end of the day, the Brotherhood is and always will be a military organization at its heart. If you are different, you are wrong." She sighed again. "I've tried cutting it before, but it grows so fast, it's back within a week... That's one of the reasons..." She trailed off, staring at the floor. I patted her on the shoulder.

"Hey, c'mon, don't sweat it. She looks like she's, what, 14? You shouldn't let a stupid kid like that ruffle you so bad." Veronica started to slowly nod... and then looked up at me, her face back to her normal mask.

Smiling sad.

"I know. Don't worry about me, I'm just," Veronica closed her eyes, drew in a sharp breath through her nose, and let out a heavy sigh. "It's been a while since I've had to deal with her. Since I've had to deal with any of this..." She started to walk away, down the hall to the Elder's office.

"You know," I said; she stopped in her tracks and turned to look at me. "We can still go back. We can do this another day, we don't have to do this now." She smiled softly.

"That's nice of you to say. But we've come this far." She turned the corner. "And I have to try... one last time, at least."

Elder McNamara's office didn't really feel like an office, so much as a missile silo with a desk in the center instead of a rocket. The room was a massive cylinder with a domed ceiling, and in the center was a curved metal desk sitting on a metal platform, surrounded by four thick beams that ran from beneath the metal grates of the floor to the ceiling. Two Brotherhood members - paladins, presumably - stood guard on either side of the door in full powered armor. On the right side of the room, I could see a massive backlit topographical map, showing all the Mojave wasteland in a 20 mile radius of the bunker. On the wall directly behind the Elder was a physical representation of the Brotherhood symbol - three massive gears, and a giant sword made out of scrap metal riveted to the wall - and lit from above.

"Hello, Veronica," The silvery-haired, blue robed Elder spoke from his seat in the center of the room as soon as Veronica got close. "How goes your mission?" The acoustics of the room carried his voice so that even from my spot standing close to the door, I could clearly hear what was being said without effort.

"We'll know in a second," Veronica cleared her throat, finally reaching the top step. "I wanted to talk to you." McNamara sighed and shook his head. Clearly, he knew what she was going to say.

"Veronica, please. Tell me this isn't about-"

"Yes, goddamn it! It is!" She practically yelled, cutting him off. Her voice echoed off every surface. "But you're going to hear me out this time."

"We've been through this," he said. I'm pretty sure he tried to make his voice sound firm, but all it ended up doing was making him sound tired. Veronica shook her head, leaning on McNamara's desk.

"The things I've seen now. Other groups succeeding where we have failed! It's not too late for us to change!"

"We've outlasted the end of the world," he replied simply. "We will outlast these upstarts."

"Outlast them, how?" Veronica's voice started becoming more agitated, amplified by the rooms acoustics. "Waiting in a hole for everyone else to die!"

"If we must." Even from this distance, I could see in his eyes - this guy wasn't going to back down. Veronica sighed.

"This is a dead end for us. Can't you see?" Veronica's voice was pleading now, but the Elder's expression didn't change.

"No. I see no evidence of that. Nor do I see anyone out there with a solution to our problems." Finally, Veronica threw her hands up in the air and hung her head.

"How could you? You're too scared to look!" She turned and walked down the stairs, shaking her head. "Let's go. We're wasting our time." Before I knew it, she'd already passed me and was on her way out.

"Wh- Veronica?" I caught up with her quickly. Mostly because she'd stopped at the bend in the hallway. She had her arms folded across her chest, shaking her head, and scowling all the while.

"I'd slap him around, but he stood at my parents' wedding. Plus, he used to make excuses to get me out of my punishment when I slept through Taggart's lectures. Figure I owe him for that..." Veronica sighed, collapsing back against the wall. "He means well, but... he just... I can't get him to see what I see."

"So what now?" I asked. I was starting to get worried; if he was as obstinate as he appeared, then maybe a diplomatic solution really was off the table...

"I'm not giving up," Veronica said as she got up off the wall. "He wants evidence, but he'll never go looking for it." She cast a glance in the Elder's direction, then looked back at me. "He's scared that I'm right. He'll never listen unless I hold the proof right in front of his face."

"You think he'll listen at all?" I asked. For the first time, real doubt crept into Veronica's features... but then it was quickly washed away.

"He's a stubborn old man. I think that's a prerequisite to being Chapter Elder. But when it comes right down to it... he's got our best interests at heart. If he sees some indisputable sign we're on the wrong course, he won't ignore it."

"Hmm..." I cast a glance over my shoulder, back at McNamara. "I'm gonna talk to him. Ramos said he wanted to speak with me anyway. Maybe I could..." Honestly, I wasn't quite sure what I could do right now just by talking, if anything. "I'll talk to him. Then after, the two of us can figure out a way to change his mind."

"Good luck," Veronica said as I walked away, back toward the Elder's office.

When I got close to his desk, I finally got a good look at McNamara. He was clean shaven with a head of wavy - yet impeccably groomed - silver hair. His face wasn't terribly lined or saggy like you'd expect of someone who had been called 'old man,' and yet he carried a strange sort of age and wisdom about him, making it terribly hard to get a read on how old he was. What stood out to me most of all, however, were his robes; they were unmistakably the same style of robes I'd seen Elijah wearing when I'd confronted him in the Sierra Madre vault.

"When Paladin Ramos informed me that Veronica was approaching with an outsider in tow," McNamara started speaking before I'd finished walking up the steps. "I will be honest - I didn't know what to think. After giving the matter some thought, however, I've decided that an outsider could be of use to me right now."

"Uh... hi." I said, simply. He seemed a bit caught off guard that I didn't just let him finish. "I'm Sheason Fisher. You must be Elder McNamara, yes? Pleasure to meet you." I held out my hand. The Elder actually smiled, and chuckled softly to himself.

"Yes, of course. You must forgive me. We... I have spent so long away from members of the outside world that I sometimes... I forget my manners." He took my hand and shook it firmly. "Yes, I am Elder Nolan McNamara, leader of the Mojave Chapter of the Brotherhood of Steel. As I said, I believe an outsider would be of use right now. However, I will not force you to help us. Should you refuse, you will be allowed to leave here - though your actions would still remain Veronica's responsibility. What do you say, outsider? Are you willing to help us?"

I was of two minds about this. On the one hand, I had just heard this guy decrying the people of the outside world, saying that none of us had the answers to his problems, and now he's asking me for help. Not to mention, I wasn't too keen on agreeing to work without first finding out what the work was. But on the other hand... maybe by being the outsider who leant them aid, I could use this to help sway his mind. Make Veronica's job easier - and, in the long run, my own, as well. I hoped.

"Just so long as you're not thinking of strapping a bomb collar to my neck." At his confused look, I added: "I've had bad experiences with Brotherhood Elders in the past." This just seemed to make him more confused, so I sighed. "Yes, I think I can help you out." Maybe, I decided not to say.

"Then allow me to explain our situation. This bunker is currently locked down, allowing no entry or exit." He paused, adding hastily: "With you and Veronica being one of the few exceptions. However, reconnaissance must still be undertaken. In these cases, teams are sent out to investigate sites or retrieve materials deemed too important to ignore. Three such teams have gone missing recently, and the news of their disappearance has not yet been widely spread - to avoid undue concern." I connected the dots immediately.

"So, you need someone who's not Brotherhood to go looking for them," I said. McNamara nodded solemnly.

"The less who are aware of the situation, the better. My brothers and sisters were deeply traumatized by the losses we incurred several years ago at Helios One. It would be imprudent to worry them unduly without first discovering the facts of the situation."

"Alright, sounds simple enough," I started mentally kicking myself as soon as I said that; damn it man, now that you've said that, that'll ensure that things are not simple! "So, how do I find them?"

"Talk to Paladin Ramos, before you leave. Each of the patrols carried a holotape, detailing their missions. He will give you the data needed to track them through your Pip Boy. The shielding of the bunker prevents us from actively tracking them, but their positions should show up once you're on the surface. If they are still alive, bring them home. But, should our worst fears become realized, then please... bring back their identification tags, so that their names may be immortalized in the Scrolls and histories of the Chapter."

"Out of curiosity," I started speaking as soon as the door to McNamara's office slid closed. "What, exactly, are you trying to accomplish?" Veronica shook her head.

"That's been my question to the Elder for years: what are we trying to accomplish? The Brotherhood collects weapons technology - and for what? To keep it out of other people's hands? That clearly hasn't worked. To defend ourselves? We can't compete with the NCR's numbers. Or the Legion's. I need to convince him that we've been fighting a war for a lost cause... and if the Brotherhood is going to survive, we have to find a new role in society. Attract new members."

"And how are you going to do that?" I asked.

"Well... look at the Followers," Veronica said, simply. "They use their expertise to improve people's lives. They train people to be self-sufficient. That expertise cultivates respect and gratitude. Spreads their ideals. Draws talent to their cause."

"Is that Arcade's voice I hear?" I asked, frankly a bit shocked that she'd be defending the Followers - much less praising them like she was doing. "I thought you considered them anarchists?"

"Well... to be fair, they are anarchists... kind of. And those are his words, I'll grant you that. But... I haven't just been talking with Arcade. I've also been talking to Julie Farkas, at the Mormon Fort, and other doctors and scientists down that way. And you know what? I think they've got the right idea. They make friends like we make enemies - but from what I've seen, talking to them, they don't possess even a fraction of the knowledge the Brotherhood has. If we took on their role... the Brotherhood of Steel could stand up to anyone. We wouldn't have to hide. We wouldn't have to be afraid. We wouldn't have to merely survive - we could live." Veronica looked at me, a glimmer of hope in her eyes. What's more... her smile seemed genuine. For that brief moment, she wasn't wearing a mask.

"Alright, so you need something big to change his mind," I said. "What'd you have in mind?" The look in Veronica's eyes faltered, and she started shaking her head.

"I... I don't know. I don't know. We'd need... I don't know. Something that would show him conclusive proof... something that shows the Brotherhood will fail. Or that we can do better a different way... But the only thing that will really grab his attention is technology." She sighed, and a small, half-smile crept into the corners of her lips. "Huh. Maybe Elijah had the right idea..."

Images flashed in my head of the madman, Elijah, looming over me with hatred, malice, and fury in his eyes... followed by what would've happened if I hadn't stopped him. A wasteland covered in toxic red Cloud... orbital lasers scorching the earth in deadly spears of light... an army of ghosts, wading through the Cloud, heedless of the danger... and a single, solitary figure standing atop Helios One, and laughing at the unfiltered madness of the slaughter.

"Trust me," I said, resting a hand on her shoulder. "No he didn't."