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Silvia hummed along to Marty Robbins, the music softly echoing in the lab as it left her pip-boy. She was analysing the data from Vault 22 and the Big MT zone that created the technology, to see if there was any use within it.
They doubted that there was anything they would be willing to unleash on the Wastes, at least not any time soon. Repeating the mistakes of the past was not high on her list of future plans. It was why she refused to fire Ulysses’ nuclear weaponry at the Legion, despite the burning part of her that wanted to wipe every crimson-wearing soldier off of the face of the planet. They could not afford to fall into the same traps of the pre-war societies, they could not succumb to the lust for power and war that pervaded before.
Of course, she knew it was a lost cause. Something within her did want to destroy every last legionnaire, and something within her enjoyed that. However, the Legionnaires were objectively wrong. They were slavers. Silvia pushed away the voice in her head, reminding her that they were a slave army.
It was not like there was much of the Legion left anymore, not after her and Boone, Hoover Dam and the Fort.
Still, Vulpes was out there. She had “killed” him 3 times, always for a new man to surface and claim to be him. They did not know if the real Vulpes was alive or dead. It did not matter- he was a figurehead attracting those still loyal to the Legion.
She further tried to not think about how she had blown up the Enclave base, taunting the President into killing himself, and then using the town bombs to destroy what remained of them. The Enclave had deserved it.
The Legion did also deserve destruction, she thought, and quickly followed that thought with a recitation on the dangers of nuclear weaponry and nuclear disasters.
Not that it required too much thought, she had been experiencing it ever since fleeing Vault 101.
She tried to shut off this train of thoughts, turning back to the dissected section of plant-human hybrid that sat on her microscope’s slide, and listening to Mr New Vegas’ news announcements.
The Ace Theatre had a new act, a visiting dance troupe from California.
She tilted her head to one side, wondering if a visit to the Mojave could be good, leaving her lab behind, before refocusing on the microscope.
The cells made sense to her, but try as she might, Silvia was not a botanist and nor did she want to be. The human element was clockwork to her, she had grown up to become a Doctor, and physics was soon becoming a fast friend.
She let out a huff of frustration as Peggy Lee sung softly to her Johnny Guitar, and declared this a waste of time.
She would ask Julie if there were any trusted botanists. Actually, Arcade had been into plants, and he was a trained medical doctor. He would be much better positioned to understand this than her.
Sometimes they still shuddered, remembering Arcade’s connections with the Enclave. She knew it was not really fair, he had been a child, and he had chosen the Followers and the NCR.
Somedays, they wondered how he could bear to spend time with her, knowing what they had done to the Enclave.
It was ironic, that Arcade Gannon was a man who she convinced to move on from his Father’s shadow, when she found herself entrapped in the legacies of her own family. Their Father’s time as a Doctor, and Project Purity. Their Grandmother’s unceasing quest to destroy the Enclave. She wondered if any of them would be proud of her.
She did not think she would be, if she were her own child.
Sometimes, she thought that her hands were really just red, soaked with the blood of the corpses she had created. Sometimes she wondered if her 18 year old self would run screaming at the monster she had become.
Usually, she did not think about it. It was a thought that crept up on them, much like those on the Legion, a thought that did not leave unless given the time it deemed appropriate.
This was why they did not like to work alone. Mr New Vegas, while being excellent company, could not quite quell her spirit like a friend.
Boone was probably nearby, checking in on Rex and Roxie, and their terrifying swarm of children. She reached for her pip-boy, to switch off the radio and contact Boone, when she noticed the time glaring on the device.
It was late. Or early, she supposed. Boone was probably in his room in the Sink, the one next to hers.
Silvia began the process of cleaning down her lab, writing a note to speak to Arcade about the Vault 22 data, and shrugging off her lab coat. Mr New Vegas, and Dean Martin, were undeniably good companions for cleaning.