Desert Wildfires

Chapter 1: Onto Her Shoulders

She saw him again. His withered face. His eyes, clouded with the aging of countless years, but still burning with intelligence and aggression. He wheezed feebly as pistons fired, releasing him from his cryo-chamber, raising him until he was eye to eye with the Courier.

She eyed him with a cool look, showing only the slightest regret.

"Mr. House."

"Why. . ." his voice rasped for the first time in hundreds of years with his own vocal chords, rather than the audio projection he used from his terminal. He coughed and the courier watched patiently. She'd reduced a handful of his machines to slag with a plasma rifle which lay, at the ready, in her practiced arms.

"I was this world's best chance," he growled. "I spent hundreds of years. . ."

"I had no choice," she said softly. She took a deep breath and met his eyes "I can't let you destroy the Brotherhood."

"Those. . . lunatics. . ." Mr. House said, gathering his weak breath. "Why on earth would you doom everything. . For them?"

"It's not a rational answer," the courier said. "To be honest, I understand why you wanted them wiped out. They can be a block-headed bunch."

Mr. House said nothing.

"My robotic intelligence should have finished hacking your network by now. Disconnected here, you'll have no control. You may not last very long. . ." she muttered, looking at him, feeling a bit sick to see his flesh, bundled up along the joints, discolored. . . "but I want to keep you alive long enough to discuss your plans. . . for the future."

Mr. House's expression went dark. "Kill me."

The courier hadn't expected Mr. House, a man of such dignity to ask for such an abrupt end to his influence. But part of her understood. With his pride. . .

"I'd rather," he said fiercely, "die then watch an imbecile like you try to execute my plans for a greater new vegas." His eyes were afire now, staring at her with accusation.

Pride, she thought to herself.

She decided to oblige his wish. She drew her dagger, a long vicious thing she kept in a small sheath on the side of her thigh and she struck it into Mr. House's flaccid chest, right into the heart. The light faded from his eyes in moments, though moments longer than it took most to die.

Mr. House was a very. . . strong person. Not physically, of course. And now, the man who was larger than life . . . was dead.

As his old blood seeped out over his chest she felt a weight settle onto her shoulders. There was no big man with a plan for the Mojave anymore. Now there was only her: a courier by the name of Teresa.

And she felt with a sudden rush of horror and fear what if I fail? What if I cannot do what he would have done? What if I just brought ruin to everything and everyone?

But it was worth it, of course. She couldn't let the brotherhood die. She owed it. . . to the woman she loved.

Xxxxxxxxxxx

(A few weeks later)

Teresa awoke with a start and swung herself up in her bedspread. She knew that she'd dreamed again, that same dream that took her back to the moment she'd killed Mr. House. After her panting subsided she found that her room was quiet and still.

It was the noise outside that had woken her.

She felt movement beside her. Veronica lay there, murmuring dreaming thoughts as she nestled restlessly into the covers. Teresa regarded her appreciatively, the ex-brotherhood scribe and procurement specialist. She was the type of girl who, when she was mussed up and awkwardly splayed beneath the covers, looked all the cuter for it.

Veronica was just that: devastatingly cute. Sometimes Teresa could only wonder how she'd gotten so lucky to find such a cute and amazing creature as Veronica. It certainly wasn't from good karma. . .

Teresa climbed from bed and walked to the window.

There were flames in Freeside. She sat in a chair and regarded them, questions and ideas swimming through her head.

She wanted to talk to someone, but didn't want to wake Veronica. She knew from the throbbing pain in her own head that she'd only slept a few hours at the most.

"Awake already?" a small monitor buzzed from beside her. Of course, there's him, she thought. Teresa had a robotic friend who was just as much an insomniac as she was.

"Just wanted to watch my city burn," she said softly.

"Well, Freeside isn't exactly under our control yet so you're certainly not to blame."

"But I am, aren't I?"

Teresa smiled. It was questions like this that made Yes Man quit his incessant chattering. To disagree with her would be seen as disrespectful but to agree that it was her fault would likewise be seen the same way. It was a catch-22 for the artificial personality programmed explicitly to be. . . well, spineless.

She lost track of the hours as she watched the chaos. She had Yes Man put up a tally of the deaths on the screen beside her so she could see the human toll. The deaths sometimes paused for minutes, sometimes hours, and sometimes they started rolling in one after the other as the Kings and the former NCR soldiers and citizens fought in the streets.

"You were up all night again, weren't you," came a critical voice from behind her.

Teresa turned and saw Veronica, standing in her underwear. It was black and looked very soft. It was enough to shake her from her half-sleepy haze. "God Veronica," Teresa said with a half-grin. "Good to see you."

Vernonica blushed ever so slightly as she came beside Teresa. "I just thought to myself 'hey, what underwear should I wear for the apocalypse.'"

"So you chose to wear what you wore yesterday."

"Yup," she said matter-of-factly. Teresa couldn't resist Veronica for long when she had that silly little triumphant smile on her face so she took Veronica by the waist, and pulled her forcefully to her.

"Excuse me, ma'am," came a timid robotic voice.

Veronica giggled as the kiss came apart.

"DAMN IT," Teresa shouted to the monitor.

"Apologies," came the voice again, "but you said you wanted updates on the major NCR and legion activities."

Teresa glanced between Veronica and Yes Man a few times before sighing in defeat. "What is it?"

"The Legion assault that hit north of the dam," Yes-man said, showing a map come up of the norther Dam from Bitter Springs to Boulder city. "Mr. House's sensors show a large Legion force has captured Bitter springs, and with it thousands of NCR soldiers and civilian refugees."

"Has the legion reformed? Already?"

"They appear to be in good order. Their forces are. . . quite numerically large."

"Draw up a report, Yes-man. I want specifics," Teresa commanded. "Veronica," she said, eyes narrowing, "We're going to be needing our power armor."

"Aye aye, el capitan," Veronica said, giving a mock salute.

As Veronica walked beside her, Teresa spoke, her mind racing. "I think I know how we can sort out that Freeside problem."

"Oh? Going to wave your magic wand and make it all go away? If you have magic, could you make my breasts a bit larger?"

"The legion attack on Bitter Springs came at just the right time. This will be useful. . . and larger?" Teresa asked, raising her eyebrows, "Do you want back problems?"