Interstellar Flare

Title: Interstellar Flare

Author: Saerzion

Games: Fallout 3

Characters: Nova, Female Lone Wanderer, Gob.

Pairings: Nova/Female Lone Wanderer.

Disclaimer: Bethesda owns the Fallout series.

Summary: Nova's perplexity over the awkward Lone Wanderer only grows each time the girl walks into Moriarty's Saloon. But as time goes by in a clustered sequence, their burgeoning companionship runs much deeper than the skin they wear. Two people so different, so varied, yet magnetized. They're worlds apart, but linked in the stars.

x-x-x-x-x

Nova had no idea what to make of the fresh-faced Vaultie who dropped 120 caps into her hand and peered up at her expectantly. A combination of dismay and bafflement winded through her, as she hadn’t anticipated that the kid would actually take her up on her standard proposition of her services. The Megaton prostitute had had her share of eccentric clients over the past few years, but if she had to pick one who stood out the most, this girl would be it.

Short, chubby, and with long waves of mousy brown hair and spectacles large enough to cover almost half her face, Roz sported an appearance as homely as her name. Nova could put on an illusion of interest and fake desire for even the most repulsive of men who took her to bed, but for this girl, who looked like a clueless little sister in need of feminine guidance and general protection from the Wasteland, she didn’t even know where to begin.

However, when Roz turned and started climbing the staircase to the appointed room, Nova had no choice but to fulfill her obligations.

Exchanging a glance with Gob across the bar counter, she hid a grimace and followed the girl up the stairs, feeling Moriarty’s laughing eyes on her back. Once they entered the small, grimy space, Nova shut the door behind them and dawdled there while Roz took a seat on the worn bed. The girl watched her, expression neutral, as Nova tried to muster the willpower to go through with this.

“Um, sit with me?” Roz asked after a few idle seconds. She patted the mattress next to her and adjusted her glasses when they slipped down her button nose.

In stiff movements, Nova meandered to the bed and sat down almost gingerly, her eyes never leaving Roz’s gray ones. A long, awkward silence stretched between them. Nova found herself at a complete loss as to how to proceed, and as the pressure increased, she began to sweat.

C’mon, Nova, you’re a professional. You don’t back down from a challenge. You can seduce anyone and anything. Your reputation depends on this.

But no matter how hard she tried, she found it almost impossible to dredge up even an ounce of lust, false or otherwise.

“Look, honey,” she declared, giving up, “I’m not sure how to tell you this, but—”

“I’ve got a half hour of your time, right?” Roz inquired, still looking and sounding impartial.

“Yeah, though I’m probably gonna have to give you a refund because I can’t… with…” Nova stopped and sighed, running a hand through her ginger hair. “Colin is going to kick my ass for this.”

“No need. I just want to have a conversation.”

“That’s… not usually how this works. You know that, don’t you?”

Roz inclined her head and went on, “Have you lived in Megaton long?”

Nova decided to go with it. Hey, it’s her money she’s choosing to throw away for a chat, so whatever. “I stayed for a few days, got into some debt trouble, and now it’s five years later. Why? You thinking of sticking around? Don’t do it. This place will suck the soul right outta you.”

Roz studied her, the ambient light glinting off her thick lenses. “Is Moriarty trapping you here?”

“Hm, I wouldn’t say that. Technically, I’m working for him to pay off my debt. It’s just that tips around here are so low, and Colin finds ways to rack up my outstanding balance.” Nova stretched and shrugged. “Someday, I’ll pay it all off. Besides, for someone like me, better to be a whore in here than a walking target out there. Women have met worse fates than this.”

Another round of silence filled the room as Roz stared at her, unblinking. Nova shifted impatiently after a while, wondering if the girl wasn’t all there in the head. No trace of emotion, no discernible social mannerisms. Just… blankness, dullness. And here she thought Moira Brown held the sole title of local weirdo around these parts.

Finally, Roz said, “But you’re unhappy.”

Nova let out a long-suffering sigh, jaded by both the topic and the company. “Well, who would be happy working minimum wage for an overbearing asshole—don’t tell him I said that—in this place? I mean, I’m not complaining too much, and it is what it is, but if I had to do it over, I would’ve done it different.”

“What would you have done differently?”

“You’re asking a lot of questions, kid.”

“I paid for the time.”

Nova’s eyes went heavenward. All right, then. “I don’t know, maybe skip town altogether? Be more responsible with my money? Just something that wouldn’t have landed me here, you know?”

Roz seemed to ponder that, scratching at her pudgy belly through her Vault jumpsuit as she did. “If you weren’t stuck here, what would you be doing?”

Does she want me to just give her my autobiography or something? Why’s she so curious about me? Nova mused to herself before saying aloud, “Running a shop, I guess.”

“Why?”

Nova never thought of herself as short-tempered, but this girl sure put that to the test. “I like interacting with customers, and I’m obviously good at selling. Product or service, I can sell it, no problem. Is there a reason you’re asking me all these things?”

Roz shook her head. “Everyone forgets that people are more than their jobs. We’re all human. We should treat each other as such.”

Nova drew her eyebrows together in confusion, not quite catching the meaning at first. And then, as she peered long and hard at Roz, it clicked. There, in those gray eyes, a certain quality shone through the dim lighting.

Kindness.

“Well, that’s real sweet of you, hon,” Nova told her, warming a bit to her unconventional manner. “But I already know what I’m dealing with in this profession. Besides, human or not, this is how society is in the Wasteland. I’m not sitting around waiting for someone to save me.”

Roz frowned a little at that. “Have you thought about being your own hero and saving yourself?”

Nova scoffed, wanting to school the naïveté out of the poor, sheltered Vault girl. “If everyone was able to be their own hero, we wouldn’t have sunk this low as a civilization.”

Roz paused, appeared to consider it. Intelligence brewed there—muted, but evident. She pushed her glasses up again and gave Nova an unfathomable look. “Do you want to be saved?”

A few stilted beats passed between them.

Nova turned her face away, unwilling to dig up a notion she had already buried. “Can we… talk about something else?”

Roz nodded and switched subjects without even floundering. “Your name. ‘Nova.’ Is it your birth name or one you were given later?”

A rueful smile formed on Nova’s lips. “That’s gonna cost you extra, kid.”

Roz gazed at her for a moment longer before abruptly hopping off the bed.

“Where are you going?”

The girl waved and strode to the exit. “I’ll be back when I have more caps.”

x-x-x-x-x

A few weeks passed before Roz returned.

Nova had almost forgotten about her, but as soon as the blue and yellow Vault jumpsuit darkened the entrance of Moriarty’s Saloon, she recognized the girl’s figure and glasses. Roz appeared dustier now from traversing the Wasteland, her attire starting to grow tattered at the edges. Nova noticed how she carried no visible weapons, and she wondered at the lack of armor as well.

“Oh, it’s you again, fat girl,” Moriarty drawled, sauntering into the bar from the backroom. “Any luck finding dear old Dad?”

Roz seemed unfazed by the jab about her weight and maintained her neutral countenance as she approached the bar counter. “No. Still looking.”

Nova had heard something about Roz searching for her father, but judging by the girl’s lackadaisical attitude on it, the matter didn’t seem all that critical. She watched as Roz exchanged a friendly greeting with Gob while pulling out a few full bottles of alcohol from her pack. He slid a number of caps her way and then gathered the liquor in his arms to take them to storage. Roz dumped out a coin purse next to the caps and counted the total currency before shifting her bespectacled gaze toward Nova.

“I have 120 caps. Could I get a room with company again?” she inquired.

Nova detected Moriarty’s leer from the corner of her eye. “Sure, honey. Same room, right this way.”

Once inside with the door closed, Roz set her pack on the floor and padded to the mattress to recline on it.

“Sorry to lie down,” she told Nova, removing her glasses and wiping them on her sleeve. “I did a lot of walking today. It was tiring.”

“Lying down is actually closer to what I’m supposed to be doing with you right now,” Nova remarked, chuckling as she sat next to her.

She studied Roz as the girl tried to rub away the smudges on her glasses, noting how much brighter her gray eyes looked without the lenses in the way. A few dozen freckles dusted her cheeks, and her nose turned out to have a slender, prominent bridge, previously hidden by her large spectacle frames. She must have lost some weight because her face appeared a bit smaller than before. But then, in the Wasteland, no one really had the luxury of maintaining a hefty body mass.

“So, is it gonna be chit-chat again?” Nova questioned. “Or are you wanting the real deal this time?”

Roz replaced her glasses and reached into her pocket to produce another raggedy coin purse. “Here’s an extra fifty caps. Can I ask about your name now?”

Nova quirked an eyebrow, but accepted the payment after a second of deliberation. Caps are caps. “Well, I guess that works.” Figures that I’d sell myself out. She rotated the coin purse in her palm, her jaw hardening. “‘Nova’ is kind of my working name, but I’ve gotten to the point where I’ll answer to it outside the job. It’s what I go by regularly now.”

Roz stayed quiet, face attentive as she peered up at her and waited.

“My birth name is Novalee. My mother was the one who gave it to me. It’s the only thing I have left of her. Not that I’d remember anything of her at all.”

Roz’s forehead creased in consternation. “Did she pass away giving birth to you?”

Nova snorted, a bitter sound. “No. She left me next to my father’s grave and disappeared the day I was born.”

The statement hung between them, thickening the air. Although time had healed the worst of the wounds, the scars remained, bound to her history.

“I’m sorry,” Roz said quietly.

“Yeah, not a story I like telling very much, but there it is, hon.”

“You survived, though.”

Nova gave her an absent nod. “An elderly neighbor found me and took me in. Couldn’t believe I lived through the radiation and heat. Said later that I must’ve been some kind of super-baby.”

Roz blinked at her. “So then you’re… Supernova.”

Nova paused, never having heard it put like that before. She gazed at the seriousness in Roz’s face, almost missing the deadpan delivery. An unexpected peal of laughter rose in her throat, marking this as the first instance where she could laugh at her past.

“That’s an awfully bad pun, kid.”

Roz’s lips curled upwards in the traces of a smile. “I try.”

x-x-x-x-x

After several more paid visits over the course of the following months, Nova began to wonder whether Roz was desperate for a friend—and she just happened to be the best that the bumbling Vaultie could do. Every visit played out the same. They spoke about subjects ranging from Nova’s interests to Nova’s hypothetical business. So really, she comprised the only topic. Roz volunteered little information about herself in return unless asked directly, which Nova didn’t think to do very often. The girl displayed a reserved, yet consistent interest in her, and if she were honest, she reveled in the compassionate attention.

Moriarty picked up on it right away and of course ordered Nova to seize the opportunity and extort Roz for more caps. She tried to put it off at first, but he started crunching the numbers and increased the required minimum of her daily wages. Scalper, she called him.

He struck her across the face in response.

The next time Roz came in, she stopped halfway across the floor when she caught sight of Nova. “What happened to your eye?”

Gob ducked his head and continued tinkering with the broken radio on the counter, having been chewed out by Moriarty when he had asked the same thing earlier.

Nova sent Roz a tight smile as the swollen bruise over her left eye throbbed, mindful of her employer observing the scene from the railing above them. “Just got into it a little with someone. It’ll heal, don’t worry. So, the usual today?”

Roz pressed her lips together and pushed her glasses up to rest on her head as she approached. Her line of vision zeroed in on the black and blue bruising, and although she rarely exhibited any outward displays of emotion, a hard glint reflected in the stormy depths of her eyes. Nova stared back at her, realizing she could make out the angles of Roz’s cheekbones for the first time. Roz examined her a moment longer before wordlessly motioning toward the room.

Nova pushed off from her post and led the way up the staircase, detecting a difference in the atmosphere as their clanging footsteps filled the bar. Once she reached the door and held it open, she turned back in time to catch the clash of gazes at the top of the stairs. Roz’s gait had slowed as she shot Moriarty a fierce glare, the most aggressive she had ever shown herself. He returned the hostility with his own glower, holding it for a few beats before moving it to Nova.

“You’d best get those extra caps to make your quota this week. You come up short again, you’re done for, lass.”

She swallowed and stood aside as Roz filed past her. Shutting the door behind them, Nova blew out a long breath and watched the girl drop her things onto the nearby tattered sofa. Roz slid her glasses back into place over her nose and sat on the bed, features already having reverted to her typical neutral expression.

Hoping to avoid a line of questioning about her injury, Nova gestured at Roz’s pack. “So I’ve noticed you don’t carry any weapons or wear any armor. How’ve you managed to not get maimed or killed yet?”

Roz brushed some strands of wavy brown hair from her face. “I have a switchblade in there. And a combat helmet.”

“Yeah, but those won’t be enough if you go up against raiders or the like.”

“Oh, I’ve already run into some. But it was okay. We talked it out, and there wasn’t much trouble.”

Nova hesitated, skeptical. “You… ‘talked it out’? With raiders?”

“I’m not a fighter, so I have to try to solve things peacefully,” Roz explained. “That, and giving up my caps helps. That’s why I can’t come here more often. I have an extra few hundred with me right now that I saved up, though.”

Nova bit her lip at the revelation and fidgeted with the hem of her top, thinking of Moriarty’s ominous vibes regarding her quota. A nagging voice in the back of her head told her not to succumb to his intimidation, but the swollen side of her face ached, reminding her that worse awaited if she failed him. It tore her in two, especially since she had come to like Roz. Still, when it came down to her or another, she had learned from birth to always put herself first.

No one else would.

“You know, I was thinking that today we could talk about you, hon,” Nova declared, locking her morals and ethics away.

“Me?” the girl echoed.

“That’s right. We have something like a ‘special’ going on this afternoon. The conversation will be on you. If you want to turn it on me, each instance will cost you another fifty caps. All right?”

Roz frowned, but folded her legs under her to settle in. “Okay.”

It was almost too easy.

Nova joined her on the mattress and tried to ignore the way Roz’s trust seemed to emanate from her in waves. “First off, what do you do when you’re not in Megaton?” she asked, finding herself genuinely curious.

“Scavenge, work odd jobs, bathe in irradiated water, hide from enemies that can’t be reasoned with…” Roz shifted in apparent discomfort under the spotlight. “Not much, really.”

“Where do you stay?”

“Here and there. Abandoned buildings or places outside where I can camp. I’m trying to start a budget to buy that vacant house across town, though.”

The knowledge took Nova by surprise, and she struggled to preserve her cool composure. “That’s good. It’s safer sleeping inside the town walls.”

“Yeah. Fending off mole rat attacks or running from radscorpions isn’t fun,” Roz remarked. “How did you handle yourself when you used to travel the Wasteland?”

“Oh, I’m gonna need fifty caps to answer that. Sorry,” Nova told her, stamping down on the burgeoning guilt in her midsection.

Without hesitating, Roz produced the currency from her pocket and handed them over.

“Thanks. I was with a traveling group of junkies. We were young and always looking for a good time, but we took care of each other.” Nova’s lashes lowered as she placed the caps on the nightstand next to the bed. “Well, until they ditched me when I got myself in trouble here. Fine by me. I don't miss that life, anyway.”

Roz scrutinized her. “Is this life any better?”

Nova glanced at the girl and held out her hand.

The clinking noise of exchanged caps filled the room for the next half hour.

x-x-x-x-x

Nova hid the extra caps from Moriarty.

She still had a few days to make up her wages for the weekly quota. The money sat in her personal footlocker, a silent box of her guilty conscience. If it had been anyone else, she would have taken advantage of them in a heartbeat, no regrets. But with Roz, the meek pacifist she had developed a certain fondness for, she detested having to swindle her, and the remorse ate her up inside.

On the last day before her quota deadline, Nova stood in her usual corner of the saloon, trying to decide whether or not to turn in the caps. The patrons numbered few today, and even Gob found himself with a bit of free time on his hands. She felt his staring in her peripheral vision, knowing that if she asked him, he would transfer his own wages to her and shoulder the consequences. The thought only exacerbated her inner turmoil, and she pushed it from her mind.

Not a minute later, Roz walked in. Nova flashed her a welcoming smile even as her heart sank. While she always enjoyed spending time with the sweet and timid Vaultie, she knew that if she accepted her visit now, she would have no opportunity to squeeze caps out of another customer. The dilemma rocked through her as Roz strode up, but when she got a closer look at the girl, all other concerns ceased.

Three half-healed slashes covered Roz’s face from her right cheek to her chin, running through her freckles and scarring her lips. The huge—and cracked—lenses of her glasses distorted the wounds to make them appear worse. She maintained a stoic set to her features, but her jumpsuit—now filled with holes and tears—hung a bit loosely over her frame to indicate even more lost weight.

Nova blanched as she came to a halt in front of her. “Oh my God, kid. Are you all right? What happened?”

“I met a deathclaw for the first time,” Roz replied, brown hair stringy and clumped with dried blood. “It wasn’t a good experience.”

“Well, no shit.” Nova’s eyes flickered to the entrance as she estimated how much longer Moriarty would be out on the town. “Hey, let’s head up to my room this time around. We should get those slashes taken care of.”

“I already got first aid done on them, though.”

“Using what? Toilet water? Come on.”

Once they entered Nova’s quarters, she closed the door and went straight for her medical kit as Roz took a seat in the rickety lounge chair. Nova brought over a few stimpaks and some clean gauze, kneeling down in front of the girl to inspect the injuries. Roz removed her glasses to allow her better access, and once again, Nova found the shine of her gray eyes striking.

“Do you really need glasses that large?” she asked, dipping the gauze into a nearby bottle of vodka and dabbing it on the wounds.

Roz flinched at the sting, but otherwise stayed still. “I asked for big ones on purpose because I did a lot of reading in the Vault.”

“Yeah? What about?”

“Space. The cosmos. Terrestrial worlds.” She paused. “Aliens.”

Despite herself, Nova grinned. “Aliens, huh? You believe in that stuff?”

Roz pursed her lips, a small mannerism that made her look cute. “A little.”

Nova momentarily put her troubles aside as authentic curiosity about Roz’s background took over. “Do you miss the Vault?”

“Is this another ‘special’ where we can only talk about me? I don’t have more than 120 caps this time for extra charges…”

Nova shook her head, something wrenching in her chest. “No, hon. You don’t have to pay me anything this time.”

“Oh. But—”

“What was it like growing up in a Vault?”

Roz blinked as she pondered it. “Cramped.”

“That’s it?”

Roz nodded and glanced at the single window, the sunlight streaming in through the torn, makeshift curtains. “I couldn’t see the sky.”

Nova set down the gauze and watched her, taking in the soft, almost wistful, quality in her gaze. She noticed then the graceful slope of Roz’s jaw, more prominent now that the remainder of her baby fat had disappeared. The subtle alteration revealed a defined side profile that showed off her delicate facial bone structure. Nova tilted her head, seeing Roz in a slightly different light.

“Say, you’ve asked about my name, but haven’t said anything about yours. Is ‘Roz’ short for something?” she inquired, forcing herself to stop staring by injecting a stimpak into the girl’s arm.

“Yes.” Roz fiddled with her glasses in her lap. “My first name is actually Rosette-Nebula.”

Nova smiled at that and set the empty syringe to the side. “Different, but it has a nice ring to it.”

“My parents weren’t cosmologists, but my mom loved outer space. I was named after a red cluster of stars out in the Monoceros region of the galaxy. I’ve heard that sometimes, when the skies are clear, you can use a telescope to see the Rosette Nebula at night.” Roz peered at the window again, her brow furrowing. “Someday, I’m hoping to find a telescope powerful enough to let me get a good view of it.”

Nova sat back on her haunches, witnessing the optimism there, the simplistic perspective through which Roz saw the world. It raised Nova’s spirits in a way. Knowing that at least one person remained untarnished by the Wasteland’s vices and horrors gave her a sense of hope. For what, she was uncertain. But she wouldn’t be the one to take it away.

And so, she made a choice.

Rising to her feet, Nova went to her footlocker and opened it, digging out the large bag of caps that had gnawed at her for days. She returned to Roz and pushed it into her arms, knowing hell loomed ahead, but the inferno could wait.

“Buy yourself a new pair of glasses, hon. You, more than anyone, deserve to see the stars.”