Archive of Our Own ^beta

As the Courier, Raul, and Arcade crested over the hill, a bolt of plasma shot over their heads.

“Shit!” the Courier swore, crouching and returning fire at the heavily armed, hostile robots.

She was joined by her companions, and the hill quickly devolved into a hail of bullets, lasers, plasma, and (courtesy of one overeager Mr. Gutsy) fire.

Eventually, the last sentry bot crashed to the ground, smoke billowing out of its chassis. After a tense moment to ensure that none of the fallen robots were getting back up, the group approached them, picking their way across the chasm.

Raul prodded one of them with his toe. “Not gonna lie; this isn’t exactly the place I expected to run into a horde of murderbots.”

“It is a bit out of the way,” Arcade agreed, wrinkling his nose at the smoke.

“The way I see it,” the Courier spoke up from where she was rummaging around inside the husks of the fallen robots, “the only reason they’d be here is if they were guarding something.” She straightened up, handing Arcade a stack of energy cells, which he accepted with a nod of thanks.

“So,” she continued, turning and making her way toward the center of the ditch behind them, “let’s see what it is.”

As they drew nearer, the Courier was able to make out the shape of a huge machine that, judging by the impact crater, had clearly had an unintended and unfortunate collision with the ground. She’d never seen anything like it before.

“Wow,” she eloquently managed. She turned toward Raul, figuring that, given his long life, he might have seen something like it before. “Do you know what that is?”

“It’s a vertibird.” It was Arcade who answered, and she turned to him in surprise. His face was troubled.

“Interesting,” he continued. “It’s been a long time since I’ve seen one of these.”

“When was that?” she inquired, curious, wondering if Arcade was finally about to reveal some personal information.

“Oh, um. Must’ve been in a book.” He looked away, avoiding eye contact.

Raul raised his eyebrows. “Must have? So you’re not sure?”

“No, no, It was definitely in a book,” he backpedaled. “Yeah, I remember now. I mean, where else could I have seen it? It’s not like a Followers doctor has much cause to interact with any people and/or organizations who use vertibirds. Which I haven’t. Just to clarify. In case you were wondering.”

The Courier exchanged an incredulous look with Raul. “Ooookay. So what do you know about them? You know, from the book.” Her voice was laden with skepticism.

“I mean, what does anyone know about them? Big... flying machines, right? Crazy helicopters.” Arcade nervously adjusted his glasses. “So weird,” he finished, quieter. The look on his face was an interesting mix of mortification and despair. “Anyway, let’s see if anything survived the crash,” he redirected the conversation, clearly hoping for his blunder to be forgotten.

The Courier almost considered pressing the matter, but there was only so much secondhand embarrassment she could take.

“Sure, let’s check it out,” she allowed, trailing after Arcade, who had already begun descending down the hill as if he could physically outrun the awkwardness he created.

As they approached the wreckage, the Courier noticed a few skeletons scattered around, and what looked like some kind of energy weapon, though none she’d ever seen before. Arcade, on the other hand, clearly recognized it.

“A Tesla cannon?” he exclaimed, crouching down beside it. “I’ve never seen one like this though; it seems like it’s been extensively modified.” He leaned closer, examining it in interest. He hummed to himself in consideration. “Actually, I think it might be one of the early models. Definitely earlier than any I’ve ever seen—possibly even one of the first prototypes! I wonder how the design’s changed. It certainly looks less durable, and it's obviously lacking the more streamlined appearance of the later versions, but I’m curious to see what less immediately apparent improvements have been implemented since this one was made—”

Raul and the Courier shared another exasperated glance as he rambled on in excitement. “Did you see one of those in a book too?” the ghoul asked, sarcastically.

The doctor cut himself off, as if suddenly realizing his audience. “I mean—um—” he stammered, floundering.

“Ay, dios mío,” Raul muttered under his breath.

“Y’know,” Arcade tried, weakly. “You see all sorts of things in books. I mean, there’s lots of books, and they all have things in them, so statistically—”

“You can stop talking now,” Raul cut him off, evidently taking pity on the man (or becoming so fed up with the sad display that the entertainment value no longer outweighed the frustration).

“Yeah, okay,” Arcade agreed, not even bothering to hide his relief as he shut up.

The three of them stood around in silence for a long moment, before the Courier decided that it was up to her to break the tension.

“So,” she began, gesturing to the Tesla cannon. “We’re taking that with us, right?”

(Later, in Jacobstown, she’s halfway through a conversation with a Nightkin named Lily when she notices a sword on her back that bears an uncanny resemblance to the propeller blades she saw on the vertibird. “Where’d you get that sword?” she asks, interrupting Lily.

“Oh, this old thing?” Lily replied, offhandedly. “I scavenged it off a wreck in Klamath.”

She kept talking—something about how Leo helped her modify it—but the Courier was too busy watching Arcade, who had paled dramatically.

“You okay, Arcade?” she inquired, less so because she was actually concerned and more so because it was funny to watch him squirm.

“Huh?” He jumped. “Oh, uh, yeah, I’m—I’m fine. I, um... I think Cass needed my help with something, so I’m just gonna—” he motioned over his shoulder, already backing up, “yeah.” With that, he left for the lodge in such a hurry that she was almost surprised dust hadn’t been kicked up in his wake.

She shook her head in a mixture of fondness and exasperation, and returned her attention to Lily.)

Boone stood just inside the entrance to the Silver Rush and watched as the Courier negotiated with the Van Graffs about some job or another. Why she’d dragged him and Gannon along when she clearly didn’t require their input, he wasn’t sure, but she often did weirder things for weirder reasons, so he wasn’t complaining. Who knows, maybe she just wanted company. Trying to puzzle out her motivations was an exercise in futility, so he usually didn’t bother with it.

Gannon was beside him, eyes roving over the merchandise that Boone was pretty sure no one on a Follower’s salary could afford.

“That's a lot of energy weapons,” he remarked, almost to himself. “Brings back some interesting memories.”

Even having served in the NCR for years, Boone had never seen that many energy weapons in one place. But apparently, this doctor, who worked for the Followers of the Apocalypse, could not say the same. The man had always been cagey about his past, but this was the first time Boone had noticed him slip up so obviously.

“Really?” he challenged. “Memories of what?”

“Oh, uh...” Gannon trailed off, obviously not having expected anyone to pay attention to his comment. “Of, um. Of hearing stories. About energy weapons.” He winced. “They're... pretty crazy. Yeah.”

Boone rolled his eyes. “If you say so.”

“Did I say something?” the doctor tried, apparently deciding that the hole he’d dug himself wasn’t deep enough. “Sorry. Don't pay any attention to me. Just babbling. Nonsense, really...” He trailed off. “Babbling nonsense,” he finished pitifully, a despairing look on his face as hunched into himself, clearly wishing for the floor to just swallow him up now.

On the one hand, Boone didn’t care about whatever the other man was so clearly trying to hide. On the other hand, it was a little insulting that he was so bad at it.

He sighed. “Doc, let me give you some advice. When you’re that miserable at lying and you’re trying to keep a secret—”

Gannon straightened, looking somewhat offended. “I’m not lyi—”

“When you’re trying to keep a secret,” Boone repeated, speaking over him. “And you feel the urge to say something that would give you away, stop talking. Or, if that’s too hard for you, just do what you normally do and babble inanities that no one has any interest in.”

Gannon was silent. Then, clearly deflecting, “I’m surprised you even know what ‘inanities’ means.”

Boone scowled. “Where did you see so many energy weapons, again?”

The doctor held up his hands in surrender. “Jeez, okay, never mind.” He was silent for another moment.

“You aren’t even the least bit curious?” he asked, uncharacteristically tentative.

That was likely as close as Gannon would get to admitting that he was, in fact, hiding something. Luckily for him, Boone could not give less of a shit.

“I hate to break it to you, Doc, but we’ve all got secrets. I doubt yours are especially interesting, and, as long as they’re not gonna make trouble for us, I don’t particularly care enough to try to figure out what they are.”

“...Thanks, Boone.”

“Yeah, whatever.” It looked like the Courier was almost done. Thank god. Gannon seemed like he might be about to get emotional and Boone was not equipped to handle that.

Veronica looked at the REPCONN headquarters with slight skepticism. It was difficult to believe that such an influential company was housed in such a dilapidated building. The Courier didn’t seem discouraged, though, striding toward the building with interest.

“So, this is REPCONN HQ!” she exclaimed, turning around and spreading her arms like an excited tour guide. It might’ve been more effective if both Veronica and Arcade weren’t already aware that the Courier had never been there before.

Met with their unimpressed gazes, she deflated a little. “Okay, yeah,” she admitted, “I don’t really know anything about them, but I’m looking forward to learning more!”

“I’ve heard of them,” Veronica volunteered. “But since they stopped being relevant hundreds of years ago, the Brotherhood doesn’t really bother with teaching much about them anymore.”

“I've read about REPCONN,” Arcade said. “They did some work with the...” he cut himself off, before obviously changing what he was going to say. “The government before the war. Mostly rockets, and some energy weapon prototypes, I think.”

“What kind of prototypes?” Veronica asked, curious.

“Plasma rifles. They were intended to replace the P94 plasma caster.” Veronica was familiar with plasma casters, but she was only peripherally aware of the different types, and that was for the modern ones currently in use. She certainly couldn’t have told anyone anything about antiquated models, but apparently Arcade’s knowledge of energy weapons was vaster than that of a Brotherhood Scribe. (And while the doctor's wide breadth of weird, esoteric knowledge could normally be chalked up to his being curious and well-read, this strained credulity.)

He wasn’t done, however. “There was some corporate espionage going on between Poseidon Energy's Project SEMELE and whatever was going on here.”

“Project SEMELE?” the Courier asked, before Veronica could.

He nodded absently, still considering the building. “Another one of Poseidon Energy's many secret weapons projects. Before the Great War. It didn't go anywhere.” If Veronica cast her mind back, she could maybe vaguely remember learning something about Project SEMELE, but even then it could’ve been a misrecollection.

“How do you know so much about this, then?” she inquired, overcome with curiosity. She couldn’t imagine that there had been many books written about secret government projects before the war, and found it even less likely that any would have been written after.

Arcade blinked, as if he was realizing the depth of knowledge he’d just revealed he possessed, and frowned, seemingly irritated with himself. “Stop thinking so much,” he instructed tersely, brushing past them to stalk towards the building. “Thanks.”

Veronica and the Courier looked at each other, surprised. “I think that’s the most annoyed I’ve seen him get since that time he had to listen to Caesar misinterpret the Hegelian Dialectics.” The Courier said. “Though I’d say even that was more outrage than irritation.”

“Okay, you definitely need to tell me that story sometime,” Veronica insisted, before she sighed, watching Arcade’s retreating back. “But for now, we should probably go after him."

The Courier watched as he slammed the door so hard behind him that it shook a little.

“Probably, yeah,” she conceded.

Cass sighed, leaning against a wall. When she’d agreed to accompany the Courier on her travels, she hadn’t expected to be trekking through the goddamn mountains. There was snow outside, for fuck’s sake! Cass had never seen snow before this, and it hadn't taken her long to decide that she was not a fan. And then, to top it all off, they had to go dig around in a nightstalker cave for hours at the behest of some doctor who was apparently too chickenshit to do it himself.

She hadn't met said doctor until now, as she and Arcade hadn’t been present when the Courier first spoke with him. They’d still been outside talking to Marcus when the Courier excitedly ran up to them to inform them of her new plan to investigate the nightstalker cave.

Still, at least that was over with, and they were back at the lodge, in the room that served as the doctor’s lab.

As the Courier and the doctor—whose name was Henry, apparently—conversed, Cass’ eyes were drawn to their own doctor, who was standing in the corner, uncharacteristically silent. She would’ve expected him to be fully engaged in the conversation, eagerly contributing with theories that Cass wasn’t ashamed to admit went far over her head. Instead, he was hunched into himself and looking at the ground, pale and tense.

She hadn’t missed the look he and Doc Henry had given each other when the three of them had entered the room, the oblivious Courier bounding over to share the information she’d gathered. At the time, Cass hadn’t been sure what to make of it, but now, as the Courier and Doc Henry continued their discussion while Arcade remained withdrawn and uncomfortable, she was certain that it couldn’t be anything good.

“Hey, Gannon?” she spoke up.

He broke his staring contest with the floor to look up at her, startled. She jerked her head towards the door. “Got something I could use your help with, if you’re up for it.”

“Oh,” he replied, confusion evident on his face. “Um, sure, I guess.”

“Knew I could count on you.” She clasped his shoulder in a friendly grip and dragged him through the doorway, not bothering to make her goodbyes to the other occupants of the room. They were probably too preoccupied to notice, anyway. And if not, well. They should’ve paid better attention earlier.

He let himself be pulled, unresisting, which raised further alarm bells. Normally, he’d put up at least a token protest, insisting that he could walk by himself, thank you very much.

She led him just outside the lodge, and, once she judged the location to be sufficiently private, rounded on him.

“Okay, what’s going on between you and that doctor?” she demanded, hands on her hips.

His eyes widened in panic, which only cemented her certainty that there was something wrong. “What? Nothing’s going on. I’ve never even met him before! What are you talking about?”

“Don’t bullshit me, Gannon; you clearly recognized each other.”

He opened his mouth, probably to deny it again, but she cut him off. “Look, I don’t care that you know him. I just want to know: is he gonna be a problem?”

“What?” he asked, some panic ebbing away, replaced by confusion.

“I’ve never seen you go so long without talking. Especially when you have a golden opportunity to start geeking out about advancements in medical science, or whatever else those two were talking about. And I’m sure that your expertise would have even been appreciated, for once. But as soon as you saw him, you clammed up and wouldn’t even go over to his side of the room. So, I’m asking you again, what happened between you two?”

“Okay, look,” Arcade began, “sure, I may have met him once or twice, but we are both doctors. Maybe we, um... collaborated on research together!” he finished, hopeful. Cass would’ve been more inclined to believe the excuse if he hadn’t so clearly come up with it on the spot.

“As convincing as that was,” she leveled him with a look to make sure he knew exactly how convinced she wasn’t, “it wouldn’t explain why you reacted so badly in there.”

“Okay, maybe not, but what’s the big deal, anyway? What does it matter?”

“It matters, Arcade!” she snapped. “I’ve never seen you like that. You, the guy who said Caesar was full of shit while surrounded by Legionnaires—”

“You heard about that?” he quietly asked, surprised.

“Yeah, Veronica was bugging the Courier to tell her about it,” she dismissed, waving away the interruption, “—but that’s not the point! The point is that I have never, ever seen you even remotely hesitant to speak your mind, but now, when there’s the perfect opportunity to do so, you don’t say anything at all. So what the fuck did that asshole do to you?”

Arcade looked taken aback. “Cass,” he ventured. “Are... are you worried about me?”

“No,” she instinctively denied, flushing. There was an awkward pause. “Okay, maybe,” she admitted, before quickly redirecting the conversation. “Anyway, you still haven’t answered my question. Do I need to go tell the Courier we’re leaving and shoot the fucker?”

He still looked surprised that someone cared enough to notice his obvious distress, and Cass wished the Courier or Veronica were here instead of her. Those two were better at this touchy-feely emotion shit than she was, but since she was clearly the only one in Arcade’s corner right now, she was gonna have to man the fuck up and deal with it.

“No, it’s... it’s fine,” he said. She didn’t even bother to voice her disagreement, certain that it was conveyed through her disbelieving stare.

“It really is,” he insisted. “Look, I’m not gonna say we get along great or anything, but it’s nothing like as bad as you’re thinking.”

“Uh huh,” she said skeptically. “Well if you’re not gonna tell me what it is, then I guess I have no choice but to think you’re full of shit, because that’s clearly not true.”

He sighed, exasperated, taking off his glasses and rubbing his eyes. “Okay, look.” He put his glasses back on and glanced around to make sure they were alone, before continuing. “I knew him when I was—well, a lot younger than I am now. The details don’t matter.”

Cass would disagree, but she doubted he’d continue if she interrupted him, and she wasn’t going to waste all the work she’d put in, not now that he was finally opening up.

“He was never... the easiest person to get along with. He always cared more about his experiments than anything—or anyone—else. Certainly more than—well.” He cut himself off, but the “than me” that he didn’t say hung in the air regardless.

“Anyway. He was focused on his work to the detriment of all else, which might’ve been understandable if he had been doing it with the intent to help people, but it seemed that all he cared about was satisfying his curiosity—or his ego. And he didn’t care about ethics or anything else that would have impeded his research.”

Yeah, Cass could see how that would bother Arcade, who had a stronger moral code than quite possibly anyone else she had ever met. And if she was reading between the lines right and Doc Henry had served as a mentor of sorts to a young Arcade... Oof. Yeah, she could see how that must have ended poorly.

“I didn’t realize how much it bothered me at first—I still looked up to him—but as I got older, I began to realize what kind of person he was, and what kind of person I was, and it turned out that I wasn’t the kind of person who was okay with that.” He sighed. Cass tried to look encouraging. She doubted that she succeeded, but he continued anyway, so clearly something had worked.

“So the last time we saw each other, it was... less than amicable. To put it mildly. There was some yelling on my part, and mostly quiet derision on his.” Arcade shook his head in seemingly self-directed scorn, as if he should have known better than to hope for respect from the man he worked with for years. “He said I didn’t understand the sacrifices that needed to be made for the sake of progress. As if that was ever a justification used by anyone who was even remotely on the right side of history. As if he himself hadn’t gone along with—” He cut himself off again, eyes widening as he presumably almost let slip something that he didn’t want her to know. She wasn’t sure what he was keeping from her, but, given what he had already been willing to admit to, she knew it couldn’t have been anything good.

He cleared his throat. “Anyway. Suffice to say that we don’t exactly see eye to eye. And, given the manner in which we parted ways, I wasn’t overly enthused to see him again.”

She nodded. “That sounds like a fucking understatement if I’ve ever heard one.” She still wasn’t sure that his explanation entirely accounted for the severity of his reaction, but she could tell that there was no way he was going to keep spilling his guts after all that he’d already told her. (And the small part of her that thought she could probably get more out of him was drowned out by her reluctance to push further than she already had.)

“I’m sorry he’s a dick. But don’t worry; you won’t have to deal with him any more.” She’d make goddamn sure of that. The Courier seemed to have the man pretty well distracted already, but if that proved to be insufficient, well. Cass hadn’t gotten to use her shotgun at all in the nightstalker cave, and her trigger finger was getting itchy. He still looked like he needed more reassurance, so she internally sighed and reached out, patting his shoulder awkwardly.

Arcade still seemed dubious, but relented. Good thing too, or she’d probably have to convince him by, like, telling him that he was important to her, or some other shit that would make her choke (even if it were true).

“Okay.” He smiled softly. “And Cass?”

“Yeah?”

“I’d appreciate it if you didn’t tell anyone else about this.”

If Cass were the type of person who did that touchy-feely shit, she’d probably say she was touched at the trust he put in her. As it was, she gave him a companionable punch on the arm. “Don’t worry about it, Doc. Your secret’s safe with me.”

She turned to head back into the lodge just a few seconds too quickly to notice the smile slide off Arcade’s face at her parting remark.