Epilogue Part 3 "Fetch."

“Takes as long as it takes. Price is the same.” Sara covered her smile with a sip of tequila. Still amused by her new profession as a courier. The barman handed her a letter with something heavy inside and a pouch of caps. She pocketed them and charmed a drink for the road on the house.

She left the trading post, stepping into the cool night air. The Mojave stretching out from the bottom of the hill. A sky filled with stars above her. “Come on.” She said to her travelling companion. Her power armour, the autonomous subroutines upgraded by Rosie.

The armour stomped along with her, draped in a heavy cloak. The joints wrapped in canvas strips to protect from the abrasive sand.

Rosie told her the upgraded code was based on her pet robot. Mixed with telemetry from John’s armour. It certainly fought like him. A trail of broken raiders, vipers, great khans, and half a dozen other dead crews could attest to that.

She’d gotten every single person that left Shadowtown home. Her reward for such a feat was the disbanding of her chapter and a demotion in all but name. She could have lived with that.

The real insult was the decision to declare her chapter lost. Erasing the years long mission from the Archive. Along with the sacrifices made by her family. She told them to go fuck themselves and left without looking back. She knew John wouldn’t let them go unremembered.

Now the only life she had to worry about was her own. She liked it better that way.

The first stop on her journey had been to see Valkyrie's family. They’d already had the official notification. Sara felt she owed her friend to tell her family the truth, at the very least.

She’d travelled around before taking a courier gig to pay a bar bill. One job led to another, and after a few more they put her on the books.

Months turned to years as Sara embraced her simple life. Take this there. Fetch that and bring it back. That and access to the network of private clubs for couriers only kept her occupied. Somewhere close to content, even if she knew it wouldn’t last.

Flashes in the night caught her eye. Sara’s instinct told her it could be muzzle flare, to take cover and return fire. Yet she kept walking, remembering the fire breathing ants that infested this harsh place. She signalled armour to cut wide, knowing the vibrations would draw the local wildlife nearer.

Sara walked the broken, worn away road. Something about the cars ahead bothered her. The wear pattern didn’t seem right. Her observant nature bought her time to put a hand on the cut down carbine under her arm.

“Don’t move bitch! Hands up!” Raiders sprang from cover behind the cars. A lot had changed for Sara in the last three years. Her opinion of those who preyed on others remained the same.

“Fellas, I’ve got a delivery to make.” Sara protested, for the sake of appearances. A shotgun racked behind her. “Alright take it easy.” One of them drew closer, reaching for her carbine.

Sara snatched the trembling hand, bending the wrist back and putting the raider under her control. She spun him into the shotgun blast, shoving the body at the gunman. Sara pivoted back, dropping the last raider standing with a clean double tap from her pistol.

Sara picked up the hunting shotgun, wiping the blood from it. Far too good for a raider. She put her boot on the dead raider’s back, making the man trapped underneath groan. “This is a nice piece.” She racked in another shell, pointing the barrel at the squirming person shaped animal.

“Fuck you bit—” She fired, then carried on with her journey.

She made it three steps before the sound of a single sniper shot cracked the air. The high calibre bullet skipped off the road at her feet. Figures emerged from the night. Properly camouflaged and well equipped. Four of them, plus the sniper made five. Sara put her hands up.

“Lose the hardware. Slowly.” A woman demanded of her. Sara disarmed. “Now move.” She made her way to the building.

“Pretty smart, hiring raiders to slow me down. Got to eat into your profits.” Sara played a hunch.

“Yeah, you saved us a few caps.” One of them sneered. Sara started thinking who she’d pissed off enough to hire mercs.

The building off the road turned out to be an old police station, complete with a cell. “You guys went to a lot of trouble, you shouldn’t have.” Sara tried to draw out a response. They stayed quiet and kept their distance, marching her at gunpoint into the cell.

“Are you going to tell me what this is about?” Sara asked from inside her cell. “I’m just a courier.” She hoped the general neutrality of her new profession might buy some good will. “Can I have some water?” Sara readied for one last gambit. The mercs rolled her a bottle.

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Sara watched as the sniper came down and joined the card game. “Alright, I’m bored. First one to let me out lives.” The mercs laughed. “Fine.” Sara pushed the button hidden in the heel of her boot. Then she sat back to watch the show.

The wall burst open, scattering the mercs in terror. Her power armour lurched forward into the building. It grabbed the first person it could, squeezing her hard enough to crush her ribcage. A devastating haymaker took a merc’s face off, knocking another to the ground. A stomp finished him.

The last two made for the door, firing as they ran. The armour walked over and plucked the cell door from its hinges. “Thank you.” Sara stepped out and into the gore spattered office. She took her carbine and knelt behind a desk.

Her first shot killed a merc outright. The second caused a flesh wound. She heard him groaning in the night. “Fetch.” The armour stomped after her wounded quarry. She retrieved her gear and pulled up a chair, helping herself to the merc’s tequila.

The armour dumped the scared and wounded merc at her feet. “Who hired you?” Sara asked casually.

“I don’t know, just got brought on as an extra gun.” He tried to stop the blood pouring from his leg. “We're just supposed to hold you here, that’s it. We didn’t want you dead. I was just doing my job.”

“Who hired you?!” Sara banged her palm on the desk. He flinched, unable to look away from the bloody mess. “Get out of here. Next time someone thinks about fucking with a courier tell them what happened here.” He limped away.

Sara sat at the desk of a long dead police officer, drumming her fingers on the metal surface. “What do you think?” She asked the armour, a habit she’d developed. Her eyes fell to the fifty calibre sniper rifle the mercs had brought. “Good idea.”

Sara humped the rifle out into the desert. She set up on some rocks, with a clear line of sight of the police station. She still couldn’t begin to imagine who put this motion. Then she heard a Vertibird fly overhead.

They weren’t Brotherhood, she knew that. They wouldn’t bring in outsiders for this. The bird looked different, covered with dark radar absorbing panels. A pair of armoured troopers hopped off before the bird touched down. Taking up textbook covering positions.

She watched an officer get out and enter the building. Sara knew what she’d find. A pile of corpses, radio shoved in in the mouth of a served head and left on a desk. “You wanted to talk, let’s talk.” She spoke through the radio.

“Most impressive, Ms. Maxwell.” The female officer replied, unbothered by the grizzly warning.

“You know me?” She asked, adjusting her scope.

“By reputation. Our organisation has an eye for talent.” The officer answered.

“Bit strong for a job interview.” Sara realised who they were. A shadowy group the Brotherhood didn’t have a name for, simply referred to as The Enemy. “Besides, I’m done taking orders.” Sara braced, exhaling slowly.

“You wouldn’t be taking orders, you’d be giving them. General Sir.” She made her pitch.

“Pass.” Sara wasn’t interested. The officer signalled the troopers to perform a sweep, looking for her. They drew weapons pulsating with a green glow.

Sara gave them time to reconsider. They kept moving closer. She squeezed the trigger. The first shot punctured the bird's engine housing, vital hydraulic fluids pouring out. Pulses of green energy lit up the dark as they returned fire. Orbs of energy struck the rock and dissipated, leaving gobs of green goo that turned sand to glass.

She exhaled another breath and shifted to get a shot. She caught sight of the officer barking orders. The bullet nearly ripped her in half.

Sara took aim at the troopers, knowing where to find the weak points. The black armour didn’t stop the high calibre rounds. She put them both down. The sight of men dying in steel suits painful to watch, even if they were The Enemy.

Sara got up and turned to leave. Her training pulled at her, forcing her to stop. She left the rifle and readied her carbine, then went to find any intel she could. Sara knew both the armour and the bird would have recorders.

Beeping interrupted the returned silence. First from one dead trooper then the other. Sara bolted for the rocks, throwing herself into the sand behind them.

First the cores in the armour went up. A blast of white light followed by a rush of air. Then the bird went up, making twice the noise.

Sara moved double time to clear the hot zone. She caught up with her armour, slinging the rifle on its back. The sight of her father’s sword still hurt. She covered it with the cloak and kept walking. Sara had a delivery to make.

Charlie rarely spoke about her hometown. As Sara caught sight of Primm she saw why. A dinghy hotel with a bizarre track running around it. A few houses, some ramshackle cabins. A large building with peeling signs.

Sara found the couriers office on the corner. Inside a young man stood behind the counter. “Delivery.” She tossed the envelope on the counter with a clunk. Something flat and heavy inside. The young man stamped it as received, then threw it in a pile of other letters.

“This too.” Sara had scrawled an after action report while she walked. Ever the good soldier, despite how much it pissed her off. What broke her was trying to think of who to send it to. She’d chosen an old friend from basic, someone she’d once trusted with her life.

Her delivery made, Sara turned to leave. “Wait.” The young man called out. “You’re Maxwell, right?”

“Who’s asking?” She growled, hand on her sidearm.

“You got a job, asking for you by name.” He held out a printed piece of paper. “Came in on the computer yesterday, thought the damn thing was busted.”

Sara took the paper, the dot matrix letters familiar. “This too.” He put a book on the counter. “Want me to wrap it?” She saw the spine with the title on it.

“No, I’m good. See you round.” She left, putting the pieces together.

“Who’s sending me signals with my uncle’s old codes?” She asked the ever mute armour as she decoded the message. “Come at once if convenient. If inconvenient come all the same.” She read the phrase aloud, knowing what it meant. She traced the following numbers to a line and word. “East… coast...instructions...will follow.” She flipped to the last indicated page. “Rose...Fuck. Rosie.”