New Vegas: Sheason's Story

It was close to noon when Veronica and I set out for the Hidden Valley bunker with all the tech loaded up in the backseat. And when we were about halfway there, I finally decided to break the unbearable silence.

"Alright, I can't take it anymore. What's wrong?" I asked. Veronica had been leaning against the door, looking out the window, and she immediately perked up.

"Wh-what?" she eventually stammered out. "Nothing's wrong. Why would you..." she trailed off, apparently not even convinced herself.

"V, we've been in the car for 20 minutes now, and you haven't said a word. And yesterday, when we were in the Vault, you were very, very quiet. Something is eating at you, I can tell." I cast a glance at her, and it looked like Veronica was trying to sink into the chair. "So, c'mon. What's wrong?"

I had a feeling I knew what was wrong, but... I had to ask. Just to be sure. For another minute or two, Veronica sat there quietly, steadfastly refusing to speak. Eventually though, she let out a very, very heavy sigh.

"Have you ever... do you ever get the feeling that you're making a huge mistake?" I kept my face as impassive on the outside as I could muster, but inside I was laughing hysterically.

"... Occasionally, yes." I said once I was sure I'd be able to answer without laughing out loud. "Why do you ask?"

"Well..." Veronica sighed again. "I've just... been looking back. I've made a lot of mistakes. I've trusted people, or my own judgment... and it's always seemed to end... badly. Christine, Elijah..." Veronica got quiet, and practically whispered the next word: "... Cass..." She buried her face in her hands, running them over her head and inadvertently pushed her hood back. "I don't know... maybe it was..." She collapsed against the seat back, and let her hands fall off her head. "I'm just worried that I'm making another mistake with this."

"What, with Cass?"

"No, that's..." Veronica cleared her throat, and pulled her hood back up. "...not... an issue. Anymore. No, I'm talking about McNamara." The light bulb clicked in my head, and I mentally started kicking myself.

"You don't think the Pulse Gun is going to convince him." It wasn't really a question.

"I..." Veronica paused, staring out of the window. "I don't know. I've tried so many times to convince him, but... There are some days it just... feels like I'm fighting a lost cause."

"As long as you're still willing to fight for it, it's not lost," I said. "And it's like you said before. You've got to try, right?"

"Yeah... but so much has gone wrong lately, and... I just wish something could go right for once, you know?" I nodded somberly.

"It would be a nice change of pace," I said simply. "For what it's worth..." I paused, not sure if I should finish that thought. "... I'm sorry about Cass." Veronica sank deeper into her seat, pulling down her hood even more.

"It's not your fault..." She muttered. I tried my best not to wince. "Fuck, it was my own damn fault. I guess... I was just a little too naïve to think I could actually make Cass and I..." Veronica sighed again. "...work."

"Are you coming?" Veronica asked when she opened the door to the bunker. She had all the air filter parts and the Pulse Gun in a bag slung over her shoulder.

"Yeah, I'm on my way," I said while digging around in the trunk of my car. "I just need to grab some things first." I pulled the anti-materiel rifle out of the trunk, made sure it wasn't loaded, and slung it over my shoulder. Even out of the corner of my eye, I could see the horrified look on Veronica's face.

"Wh - Sheason, what are you doing?"

"Well, I got to thinking about what you said earlier," I said, grabbing a grenade, a few shotgun shells, and an assault rifle magazine. "And if McNamara isn't convinced by the Pulse Gun, I had a few other ideas. Call it a 'plan B' for our little show-and-tell."

I admit it - that was only partially true. I'd been thinking about how this meeting might go the last couple of days, and I realized that the Pulse Gun might not be enough. Which is why, before Veronica even got up, I made a quick trip to the Gun Runners and grabbed a few things which might help make our point just as good - if not better.

"And one of those ideas is to go into the bunker looking ready to storm the place?" she asked.

"C'mon V, you should know me better than that by now. I've seen the kind of firepower that's waiting down there. If I was suicidal enough to try something like that - which I most certainly am not - I'd bring something like the gatling laser, not a long range rifle like this. This'd be completely useless in those narrow, twisty corridors."

"... could you just leave the rifle in the car? Please?" Veronica asked, pleadingly. "Trust me - if you go in there, armed like that... it'll send entirely the wrong message."

"Alright, alright. You're the boss," I put the giant gun back in the trunk, and decided that a single .50cal bullet would be sufficient to make my point. "Let's go."

"Welcome outsider, welcome!" McNamara said with a surprisingly jovial tone of voice as the two of us entered his office. "And Veronica as well, welcome back!"

"McNamara," I gave him a nod as we made our way up the steps to his desk. "I take it you've heard the good news?" He nodded with a smile.

"Yes, I just received word from Senior Knight Lorenzo. He tells me the parts that you acquired were in excellent condition, and he is installing them as we speak. Your efforts have humbled me... Mr. Fisher," He smiled, obviously proud of making a point to call me by name, rather than outsider. "We should not have had to rely on your help in this crisis, but... despite that, you have done more than I could expect, even from my Brothers. You have proven yourself to be a trusted ally to the Brotherhood. Thank you."

"Hey, I said I would help. But can you do one thing for me?" I asked. McNamara's expression faltered slightly, but he quickly recovered.

"Within reason, outsider," he said with narrowed eyes, but still smiling. "What is your request?"

"Listen to Veronica for a few minutes?" and with that, I stepped back down, letting Veronica get front and center. He looked at me, back at her, then back to me, and finally settled on Veronica.

"Veronica, I hope -"

"I brought you a present," Veronica said, cutting him off and setting the Pulse Gun on his desk. "This is a Pulse Gun. It was developed by the pre-war military for the sole purpose of disabling power armor. Just one of these could defeat the whole Brotherhood! This proves that we need to stop limiting our focus to military technology - it's not going to save us." McNamara stared at the gun as she spoke, and finally looked up at her with a stern expression when she finished.

"Veronica, this weapon could be the only one of its kind."

"That's not the point!" She shouted. "Technology isn't going to win our wars for us. We need numbers - new recruits!"

"What does the Codex say?" McNamara asked with stony resolve. Veronica sighed and looked away.

"A bunch of closed-minded bullshit..." She muttered. McNamara sighed.

"We do not help them or let them in." The way he said it sounded like he was merely rattling off a specific passage from memory. "We keep knowledge that they must never have."

"Give it a chance," Veronica turned back to McNamara, pleadingly. "For me. I... I can't stay here and watch us waste away!" Slowly, McNamara shook his head.

"I'm sorry."

"But... we'll die out..." Veronica's voice fell. McNamara sighed, his voice going nearly as quiet.

"I know," he almost whispered. Veronica looked at him one last time, the corners of her eyes starting to glisten, before turning on her heel and walking away from his desk.

"Come on," she said to me. "I... can't listen to this any more."

"You go on ahead. I'll catch up," I said. Veronica nodded somberly and walked out of his office. As soon as she left, I cracked my knuckles and walked up to McNamara's desk. "Alright, my turn."

"Outsider?" McNamara looked up at me, confused. "What are you doing?"

"I had a feeling the Pulse Gun wasn't going to be enough," I said, picking it up off his desk and slipping it into my duster. "So I brought a few other things for you to chew on." With that, I pulled out the .50 cal bullet and set it on his desk with a thunk. "I'm sure you know what this is."

"A .50 BMG cartridge?" McNamara looked up at me curiously.

"Yes it is. I pulled this from the magazine of my anti-materiel rifle. You know - the gun specifically designed to punch through tanks? I've seen first hand what the standard round - like this - will do to several layers of metal and Kevlar. It will simply pass through it like it wasn't there. What do you think something like that will do to power armor?"

"What's your point?" He seemed less annoyed now, and now more curious.

"This is wonderfully low tech, McNamara. In fact, it's so low tech that people out in the wasteland can make these rounds pretty easily. Think about that. Any walk-the-wasteland fuck with access to a reloading bench can make ammunition for a gun that will blow a hole in power armor the size of my fist. Oh, but wait!" I reached into my duster again, and set a rifle magazine on the table.

"5.56mm NATO rounds?" McNamara picked up the magazine, regarding it curiously.

"Almost. Look close at those bullets. See the black tips? They're armor piercing. a whole magazine worth. I'm willing to bet that's the same kind of ammunition the NCR used against you guys when they took Helios. I'm sure you're aware, that kind of ammo will turn any basic assault rifle into a very effective anti-power armor weapon."

"Yes, but -" I didn't let him finish.

"Then there's this," I set a small shotgun shell on the desk. It had a yellow shell case, rather than the normal red. "This is a 12 gauge round that I picked up at the Gun Runners just this morning. This costs 5 caps a round, which is nothing. That's stupidly cheap. Instead of firing buckshot, this has a specially made slug that generates a small, localized electromagnetic pulse. This hits something like a robot or, let's say, powered armor, it'll shut down," I snapped my fingers, "instantly. And this isn't rare, either. They have boxes of this stuff. And while we're on the subject of EMP's..."

"Mr. Fisher, I don't see the point of-" I cut him off yet again. I was on a roll, and I wasn't going to stop until I was done.

"I'm sure you know what this is," I said, setting down a pulse grenade on his desk. "In fact, I'm betting there are plenty of these in your armories here in this very bunker. The reason I bring it up? You said to Veronica that the Pulse Gun..." I reached behind me, holding up the energy pistol, and turning it around in my hand. "...might be the only one of its kind. Well, this grenade right here is proof that it's not. It uses the same principle - same with the 12 gauge pulse slug. It's not one of a kind. This kind of tech is not only out there, but it's common as hell."

"You already heard my answer to Veronica," McNamara said through gritted teeth. "I ask again: What is your point?"

"My point?" I sighed, shook my head, and started collecting everything sitting on his desk. "My point should be pretty obvious, McNamara. There are multiple ways to get around power armor - weapons and ammunition that are easily accessible to anyone out in the world. You guys aren't the gods of the wasteland that you used to be, and the fact that you're hiding in a bunker should prove that. The rest of the world is getting back on its feet, and you guys have stayed still."

"Mister Fisher," McNamara said forcefully, holding up his hand. I leaned back and let him speak. "Stop. Please, just... You..." He sighed through gritted teeth. "... don't need to convince me. I already know the Brotherhood is on a doomed path. But I can't do anything about it." I raised an eyebrow. "My hold on this chapter is tenuous - at best. I'm sure that you've met Head Paladin Hardin?"

"Yeah," I nodded. "I met him the other day, when Veronica and I came down here the first time..."

"I assume that he tried to enlist your aid in removing me from my position as Elder?" he asked. I nodded slowly. "Exactly," McNamara sighed again. "If I try and institute policy that goes against the teachings in The Codex, it would be just the excuse Hardin would need to force me out of my post, and take over as Chapter Elder. In fact..." McNamara grimaced and started to rub his temple. "It's because of Hardin that I've been hesitant to lift the lockdown."

"What do you mean?" I asked genuinely curious. He paused, like he was debating internally to even tell me.

"A few days before Veronica arrived with you in tow, a number of my scouts returned from recon missions on the surface with intelligence they'd acquired. And every time I went over the reports, I kept coming to the same conclusion: the NCR isn't the threat I believed it to be. Their war with the Legion has drained their resources considerably, and their hold on the Mojave is not as absolute as it was when they took Helios. By all accounts, I should lift the lockdown. Send regular patrols into the wasteland. But I know... if I do that, then Hardin will insist on sending a force to retake Helios. Even weakened as it is, we don't have the numbers to successfully assault the NCR and retake that facility without considerable losses. And we would never survive the inevitable counter-attack. We can't afford to lose any more members."

"Wait, back up," I said, unfolding my arms. "You're Chapter Elder. Aren't you the guy in charge? Why can't you just, I dunno, change the Codex?" McNamara sighed and shook his head.

"Because I'm the Elder of this Chapter, not the whole Brotherhood. I don't have the authority to alter the Codex. The other members of this Chapter would revolt if I ever tried to do something so audacious."

"Alright, so who has the authority?" I asked, getting tired of the runaround. "Is there anyone around here or in the Mojave who has the authority?" McNamara stared at me, his eyes practically boring into the back of my skull. Apparently, my ignorance was annoying him.

"You wouldn't know, because you are not one of our order. So, I shall educate you. The Brotherhood of Steel was founded in the wake of Nuclear Fire in 2077, by US Army Captain Roger Maxson. It was his hand, as First High Elder of the Brotherhood, that wrote down the first tenets of the Codex. Only one whose soul has been forged from Eternal Steel may alter The Word. And what that means, is that only a member of the Maxson line has the authority to change it, and no other."

"Okay..." I tried not to sound exasperated; everything always has to be so fucking complicated, doesn't it? "So, where can we find a Maxson?"

"There are none left," McNamara said with a heavy sigh. "The last of the Maxson line was sent East, to join the Chapter ordered to scour the ruins of Washington D.C. There hasn't been any contact with that Chapter since the mid-2270's. It's been presumed that the entire Chapter - and the last of the Maxson line - have all been lost."

"There's no one else?" I asked. "Not one?" McNamara shook his head.

"No. Without a member of the Maxson family to help us get back on course... The Brotherhood is doomed to die a slow death. I'm sorry, Sheason, but you and Veronica are fighting for a cause that is already lost."

It took me a while to find Veronica after leaving McNamara's office. She hadn't told me where she was going... but, after asking a few people who'd seen her pass by, I eventually caught up with her: she was in her bunk.

It was a small room, with metal walls, a metal bed, a metal desk with a glowing green terminal in the middle, and metal floors. There were a few boxes scattered around, and - surprisingly enough - a few posters on the walls. You could almost call it cozy, though, I think that had more to do with the electric guitar leaning up against the wall and the small amplifier next to it than anything else. When I walked in, Veronica was sitting on the edge of her bed, hunched over and shaking her head.

"V?" I said as I walked through the door. "Are you alright?"

"He wouldn't listen," she said, continuing to shake her head. "The truth was right there... just staring him in the face. And he still just... wouldn't listen." Veronica buried her face in her hands. "I thought I knew him better than that, but... but it was like talking to a stranger. His mind was made up from the start." She looked up at me, her arms falling limp at her sides; her eyes were red and puffy. "How can I help them when they won't accept it?"

"Hey... Veronica. It... It wasn't your fault." Veronica looked up at me, utterly confused. Over the next few minutes, I outlined everything McNamara had told me. The more I talked, the more her expression sank.

"So he... He's just as powerless to change things as I am. There's nothing we can really do, is there?" Veronica sighed and hung her head.

"Doesn't look like it. Not unless you know where we can find a Maxson somewhere." I pulled the chair away from the desk, and sat down opposite her. "So. Where does that leave you? What's our next move?"

"I..." Veronica leaned back, and inhaled deeply, obviously trying to calm herself down. "I don't think I can stay. Maybe it would be better for everyone here if I left. Spend my life... somewhere else. I don't know. I could... I suppose I could always work with the Followers, and put my knowledge to some good use."

"After everything you've said, it's hard to imagine you with the Followers." I said flatly. Veronica shrugged, and the edges of her mouth twitched.

"Well, it's either that... or I stay here with the people I care about, and do... whatever I can. And I keep at it, day in, day out, until everything comes to either a slow - or a sudden - end."

"I guess when you put it like that," I leaned back in the chair and forced out a grim smirk. "Leaving now is going to be your only shot at a future."

"There's no getting around that. But..." Veronica looked worried. More worried than she already had been, at least. "They're not going to like it if I leave."

"Well, yeah. You're really good at what you do, they'd be stupid to-" Veronica shook her head, and I shut up.

"That's not what I mean. When we're young, every child born into the Brotherhood is given a choice. You can either stay with the Brotherhood, or you can leave and strike out on your own... and the choice is supposed to be for life. The Brotherhood doesn't react kindly to oathbreakers..."

"That..." All sorts of images were flowing through my head, and none of them were good. "That doesn't sound encouraging."

"But if I stay, then I'll be forced to live out a lifetime of scavenging and watching my friends die in losing battles."

"That's a hell of a choice," I muttered. Veronica just shook her head.

"No. I already know what I need to do... what I should have done earlier..." Without warning, Veronica got up off the edge of her bed, and made her way to one of the posters on the wall. Very carefully, she removed it off the wall and started rolling it up. "Grab those boxes by your feet. It's time for me to leave."

"So, is this all you want to take with you?" I asked as we neared the staircase that led to the exit. The two large metal boxes in my hands were heavy, but not unduly so. Veronica was carrying the bulk of it: the metal tube that had all her posters - along with the guitar - was strapped to her back, and she was carrying a large metal box under one arm, and the amplifier under the other.

"It's all that I have that's worth anything. To me, at least."

"I didn't even know you played guitar," I said, eying the instrument on her back. Except for the neck, it was all curved, with rounded edges, and looked like it was made out of wood, of all things. There was some cursive writing on the head, near the tuning pegs, but I didn't know enough about guitars, much less electric ones, to make any sense of it: 'Stratocaster.'

"I... don't really play," Veronica said with a shrug - impressive in itself, given how much she was holding. "I only know, like, three chords, that I taught myself..."

"That's three more than me, I don't know shit." I could be mistaken, but I thought I heard her chuckle. "So, what is all this, anyway? What's in the boxes?"

"Just a few records. I recovered both them and the guitar from a bunker in California, about ten years ago."

"Records?" I asked, looking down at the boxes in my hands. "What, like files? Documents? Holotapes?"

"No..." Veronica looked at me over her shoulder, and actually started smiling... slightly. "I mean, real records. Vinyl LP's. Music. Those kind of records."

"Seriously?" I honestly couldn't believe it. I knew what vinyl records were, I'd seen them in old world holotapes... but I'd never seen one in person. I'd always just assumed that they were so fragile that none of them survived the apocalypse. Veronica gave an affirmative "Mmhmm," in response.

"Why do you think you're carrying a portable turntable?" She said, motioning with her head to the smaller box in my hands.

"Is that what this is? I thought it was a suitcase." I asked.

Sadly, I didn't get an answer. At least, not then. Because at the precise moment we finally exited the last staircase in the bunker proper, and walked into the concrete antechamber that separated the bunker from the surface... we were greeted with a very unwelcome sight. Four Brotherhood Paladins, in full power armor and all heavily armed, were barring our way. If the Gauss minigun carried by the man in front was any indication, then we'd run into this same group of Paladins before...

"Just as I suspected," the man in the lead said, his voice echoing and reverberating as it passed through the filter on his helmet. "We'd heard that you'd come back to try and fill the Elder's head with seditious lies - trying to undermine his authority. And now that you have obviously failed, what do we find? It looks like you're trying to leave with pieces of Old World tech. Have you forgotten your oath, Veronica? This is treason of the highest order, and we will not stand for it..."

"Whoa, whoa, whoa, whoa!" I shouted, setting the boxes I was carrying on the ground, and stepping forward - directly between Veronica and the Paladins. "Chill your tits, boys. You're jumping to entirely the wrong conclusion here. You know what she does, right?" I pointed my thumb over my shoulder at Veronica, and kept going before they could answer. "Far as I know, her job description is to go out in the world, and find tech to bring back. You know how boring the outside world is? It's pretty fuckin' boring! That's all this is - entertainment for the times between trips to the bunker."

"I don't believe you, outsider," The man in front snarled and managed to loom over me somehow, despite being at least six feet away.

"Cutter, it- it's true. If you won't listen to him, listen to me. This is just my music, that's all." She leaned down, and opened up one of the boxes - sure enough, it was filled with easily a hundred vinyl record sleeves

"Besides, I don't really think a guitar counts as Old World tech. Not like those Gauss rifle's you're carrying, at any rate..." I did my best to back her up. But, just looking at the four powered armored Paladins standing there, staring at us behind those impenetrable masks and standing like statues... I had no idea.

"Hmmmph," the Paladin in the lead grunted eventually. "She'd be doing a greater service by carrying out her duties and not spending all her time on frivolous entertainment... " He motioned with his head to the Paladins behind him, and they started following him; before he went back into the Bunker, he stopped right in front of Veronica, staring down at her. "Don't think we've forgotten your attempt to undermine the Elder's authority. This had better be the last time your loyalty falters, scribe. You've been warned."

Veronica didn't say anything until we were already back in my car with everything loaded in the backseat. As soon as the Hidden Valley bunker complex was behind us, she let out a huge sigh of relief.

"Well... if there was any question whether I should leave, I guess Cutter and his cronies gave me my answer..." Veronica slumped into the seat and turned to look at me. "Thanks for the quick thinking back there."

"Hey, some of the best lies are based in truth..." I muttered, a pang of guilt stabbing at the back of my mind. I shook it off and tried to keep the conversation going. "You sure you're okay with leaving them behind?"

"I think if I stayed, I'd just end up causing trouble. Sometimes, I just can't help myself. This way is better for them... and for me."

"Well, for what it's worth, I like the particular brand of trouble you bring to the party," I looked over to her when I finished speaking, and saw a small smirk start to creep into the side of her mouth. "Still interested in travelling with me?"

"Absolutely. Truth be told, even after everything that's happened... the 38 is the closest thing to a home that I've ever had. But as far as I know, drifting is in the job description. I'd still like to establish a... real connection first."

"What, you want to talk to April and Emily about joining the Followers? Maybe Arcade? I'm sure he won't give you any grief about it at all." I said, not even trying to mask my sarcasm.

"Uh... no." Veronica shook her head and chuckled softly. "I actually had something else in mind entirely..."

"Doctor Alvarez?" Veronica asked as we walked into the Followers outpost near the 188 about half an hour later. "Are you in here?"

"Oh! Hello, Veronica!" The middle-aged woman in the labcoat emerged, beaming with a friendly smile. "It's so nice to see you again so soon. What can we do for you?"

"Hi. Er... There's something I think I need to tell you. You know how I told you I used to be a mechanic?" Veronica laughed nervously, and scratched the back of her head. "Yeah... that story wasn't... entirely... accurate..."

"I think that went well!" Veronica said when we were back on the road, headed to Vegas.

"Yeah, she was very understanding when you said you were a member of the Brotherhood. I honestly couldn't have called that, I figured she might be suspicious. But I still don't get why she wants you to come back tomorrow."

"Weren't you listening?" Veronica said, sitting up in the seat. "Doctor Shiller, or whatever his name is, isn't going to be back in until tomorrow. According to Alvarez, he's the one in charge of assignments."

"Eh, fair enough," I shrugged. "So! You got a whole day free, to do whatever you want before we go back. Anything in particular you wanna do?"

"Truthfully?" Veronica buried her face in her hands and groaned languidly. "I want to go back to my room in the 38 and sleep. Is it a bad thing that I feel more exhausted now than after any of our trips to the Vaults?"

The only answer I could think to give was a shrug.