“Gone.” Veronica's voice was hoarse, and hardly her own, but it was good to hear the girl was still alive. The courier set her down, still curled protectively around her from the suppressive fire that was all around them.
“I thought I'd lost you, lady.” The courier said with a relieved smile despite the noise and danger apparent.
“Dead, all dead.” Veronica spoke, and the courier studied her face, at last being able to see it. The expression there was not exactly endearing. She looked lost, pale, indifferent... She had seen something that she was still in shock from. Veronica, of all people, in shock. Wonders never ceased with that bastard around, apparently.
It also meant that the Lone Wanderer had taken out the Mojave's Brotherhood chapter. It was the only thing that could have done this to Veronica. Only time would tell if she would be okay, as the courier didn't immediately see any injuries on the girl. Maybe some time spent with the Followers and Arcade would be good for her. But all of that was moot if they couldn't get out of there alive.
It did force her to wonder, though. Why did he let Veronica live?
Kicked up dirt and a couple of falling pebbles had the courier turning with Dinner Bell just in time to shoot the bald bastard as he came down from the hill to try and surprise her. She didn't bother trying to be nice anymore, and shot him in the arm just as he was turning his rifle to shoot her. Scatter shot tore him up as he tried to right himself, arm now pinned to his side in pain, his face an ugly cacophony as he cursed her up and down.
THAT drew out the insane slave that had thrown the hatchet earlier. She would have be absolutely adorable in the pink spring outfit (that actually looked relatively new, interestingly enough), save for the irrepressible rage crossing her features, rifle ready and pointed at the courier as she sprinted into sight. She was baring her teeth in good impression of one of the junkie fiends from vault 3.
It was all too easy to bring up Dinner Bell for a well-placed shot to the slave's legs, when a vicious grunt behind her had her turning her head...
All too slowly...
...To see Cross go down on her knees, the power armor she wore creaking as the pale suited Lone Wanderer brought the modified plasma pistol to the woman's head. He had such a dashing smile of triumph on his face, Cross looking dazed and muted as her eyes traveled up to see his. His grin was so winning, he might have been a model or a politician. Instead, he pulled the trigger.
The courier found herself standing as the older cyborg fell into the desert floor, dust billowing around her as her heavy body settled, dead atop the apparent graves of the Mojave's chapter of the Brotherhood. In a way, it was fitting for the old warrior, and maybe the courier would come to accept that later. But right then, all she could see was the Lone Wanderer's shark-like smile as Star-Paladin Cross fell before him. In her mind, he wasn't worthy to give her a true soldier’s death.
She stood with her heart in her throat, not paying enough attention as Clover came down on her like an angry dog. It wasn't exactly like the world had slowed to a stop as she watched Cross land. Clover was proof that it did not. The enraged slave was screaming wordlessly as she brought out a combat knife to flay the courier, who threw back her elbow almost awkwardly into the woman's face as she turned to her, her other fist a perfect response as she punched Clover in the gut.
Bad Moon Rising Pt. 12/?
“I thought I'd lost you, lady.” The courier said with a relieved smile despite the noise and danger apparent.
“Dead, all dead.” Veronica spoke, and the courier studied her face, at last being able to see it. The expression there was not exactly endearing. She looked lost, pale, indifferent... She had seen something that she was still in shock from. Veronica, of all people, in shock. Wonders never ceased with that bastard around, apparently.
It also meant that the Lone Wanderer had taken out the Mojave's Brotherhood chapter. It was the only thing that could have done this to Veronica. Only time would tell if she would be okay, as the courier didn't immediately see any injuries on the girl. Maybe some time spent with the Followers and Arcade would be good for her. But all of that was moot if they couldn't get out of there alive.
It did force her to wonder, though. Why did he let Veronica live?
Kicked up dirt and a couple of falling pebbles had the courier turning with Dinner Bell just in time to shoot the bald bastard as he came down from the hill to try and surprise her. She didn't bother trying to be nice anymore, and shot him in the arm just as he was turning his rifle to shoot her. Scatter shot tore him up as he tried to right himself, arm now pinned to his side in pain, his face an ugly cacophony as he cursed her up and down.
THAT drew out the insane slave that had thrown the hatchet earlier. She would have be absolutely adorable in the pink spring outfit (that actually looked relatively new, interestingly enough), save for the irrepressible rage crossing her features, rifle ready and pointed at the courier as she sprinted into sight. She was baring her teeth in good impression of one of the junkie fiends from vault 3.
It was all too easy to bring up Dinner Bell for a well-placed shot to the slave's legs, when a vicious grunt behind her had her turning her head...
All too slowly...
...To see Cross go down on her knees, the power armor she wore creaking as the pale suited Lone Wanderer brought the modified plasma pistol to the woman's head. He had such a dashing smile of triumph on his face, Cross looking dazed and muted as her eyes traveled up to see his. His grin was so winning, he might have been a model or a politician. Instead, he pulled the trigger.
The courier found herself standing as the older cyborg fell into the desert floor, dust billowing around her as her heavy body settled, dead atop the apparent graves of the Mojave's chapter of the Brotherhood. In a way, it was fitting for the old warrior, and maybe the courier would come to accept that later. But right then, all she could see was the Lone Wanderer's shark-like smile as Star-Paladin Cross fell before him. In her mind, he wasn't worthy to give her a true soldier’s death.
She stood with her heart in her throat, not paying enough attention as Clover came down on her like an angry dog. It wasn't exactly like the world had slowed to a stop as she watched Cross land. Clover was proof that it did not. The enraged slave was screaming wordlessly as she brought out a combat knife to flay the courier, who threw back her elbow almost awkwardly into the woman's face as she turned to her, her other fist a perfect response as she punched Clover in the gut.