"Strange names. Do they mean anything?" President Kimball asked.
"In a way, sir. The people of New Amazonia think she's a Goddess, sir. I'm afraid that if anyone still knows her real name, it would be... let me see... ah. Veronica Santangelo, Rose of Sharon Cassidy and one Christine Royce."
"These women are close to her?"
"Very close, sir."
"Perhaps, if the need arises, we would be able to get at her through one of them?"
"I would advise against that, sir," James said hurriedly. "The Courier is a very protective woman. Before she rose to power, the Mojave Chapter of the Brotherhood of Steel did something to hurt Veronica, apparently. Once New Amazonia was established, the Courier led her forces against them. The men were all slaughtered, the women were enslaved and put to work in Succubus."
"Succubus?"
"Gomorrah, sir. In short, sir, I would suggest not antagonising the Courier if at all possible."
President Kimball rapped his fingers on his desk. "Sounds to me they've got some insane cult of personality going over there. Still, all we've got to do is wait it out. Once this woman dies, her empire will die with her."
"That's possible, sir, though I must admit she did manage to weld a lot of different factions into a cohesive whole. The woman on the street may worship her as a Goddess, but once she dies there are any number of women who share her vision and leadership skills who could step in and take over. New Amazonia has become more than one woman, sir."
"I'm not liking your conclusions, man."
"Sorry, sir," James said.
"So... what do we do about this?"
James swallowed uncomfortably. "I suggest you step down immediately, sir."
"WHAT!?"
"I'm sorry, sir, but the Courier will not tolerate men ruling over women. So long as the NCR has a male president, diplomatic relations with New Amazonia are impossible."
"Out of the question. No, we'll find some other wa-"
"Sir!"
The doors were flung open and a pale-faced aide rushed into the office.
"This had better be important," President Kimball growled.
"Sir, it's the New Vegas army, sir. They've crossed the border."
The colour drained from James' face. "I'm sorry, Mister President," he said quietly. "It seems my report has come too late."
FILL: A Peculiar Briefing (2/2) (Genfic; implied Courier/Veronica/Cass/Christine)
"In a way, sir. The people of New Amazonia think she's a Goddess, sir. I'm afraid that if anyone still knows her real name, it would be... let me see... ah. Veronica Santangelo, Rose of Sharon Cassidy and one Christine Royce."
"These women are close to her?"
"Very close, sir."
"Perhaps, if the need arises, we would be able to get at her through one of them?"
"I would advise against that, sir," James said hurriedly. "The Courier is a very protective woman. Before she rose to power, the Mojave Chapter of the Brotherhood of Steel did something to hurt Veronica, apparently. Once New Amazonia was established, the Courier led her forces against them. The men were all slaughtered, the women were enslaved and put to work in Succubus."
"Succubus?"
"Gomorrah, sir. In short, sir, I would suggest not antagonising the Courier if at all possible."
President Kimball rapped his fingers on his desk. "Sounds to me they've got some insane cult of personality going over there. Still, all we've got to do is wait it out. Once this woman dies, her empire will die with her."
"That's possible, sir, though I must admit she did manage to weld a lot of different factions into a cohesive whole. The woman on the street may worship her as a Goddess, but once she dies there are any number of women who share her vision and leadership skills who could step in and take over. New Amazonia has become more than one woman, sir."
"I'm not liking your conclusions, man."
"Sorry, sir," James said.
"So... what do we do about this?"
James swallowed uncomfortably. "I suggest you step down immediately, sir."
"WHAT!?"
"I'm sorry, sir, but the Courier will not tolerate men ruling over women. So long as the NCR has a male president, diplomatic relations with New Amazonia are impossible."
"Out of the question. No, we'll find some other wa-"
"Sir!"
The doors were flung open and a pale-faced aide rushed into the office.
"This had better be important," President Kimball growled.
"Sir, it's the New Vegas army, sir. They've crossed the border."
The colour drained from James' face. "I'm sorry, Mister President," he said quietly. "It seems my report has come too late."