Maiden Voyage

Author's Note: I rewrote and edited a lot of this story to fit in with the Fallout 4 plot. Yes, a sequel will be written in preparation of Fallout 4, hopefully to be completed before the release. I hope you enjoy the edited version, and please feel free to follow/favorite/review/PM me for any suggestions.

The Lucky 38 Casino, Penthouse Floor.

6:30 AM, March 19, 2282

Johhny Cash.

"Have all the proper arrangements been made?"

I sighed, tapping the screen of my Pip-Boy, flipping through images of statistics and rows of numbers. I stopped at the icon of a ship, a battered yacht from the Old World. Another series of numbers arose in a panel beneath.

Cruise Yacht "St. Eleanor"
Length: 216 feet (Bow-Stern) 237 feet (Stick)
Weight: 17 tons. (Non-Metric)
Displacement: 1200 tons.

Operation ID No: REH-664901123874

House Industries Blueprint Code:
7660192984757391047563820190284645782910572
7563724639241202139560231758621036213509756
0295721038472103978566521-03497238476b39286t

Status: Active.

Location: Hoover Dam (South Port)

I eyed the list of codes, scanning for abnormalities. All seemed to be in order, with the ship at least.

"Yes, the St. Eleanor is in working order and ready for her maiden Voyage."

The man in front of me, garbed in a tuxedo of the finest make, lowered his head of grey-black hair, turning his back to me and staring out the windows that encircled the penthouse. I studied him for a moment, taking in what I knew of Robert Edwin House.

He was born some two-hundred sixty five years ago in the Old World, to a wealthy family in Nevada. He'd been cheated of his inheritance by his half brother, Anthony, thus forcing Edwin on a campaign to overcome what he had lost, and achieve even greater wealth and power than he would have obtained had he rightfully owned the H&H Tool Company. By the year 2077, the year of the Great War, House was the CEO of Robco Industries, Owner of the Lucky 38 Casino, and of several smaller companies, H&H Tools among them. After a tip by the military that most countries were gearing for nuclear war in 2065, House began defensive maneuvers. He sent secret satellites into orbit to intercept missiles directed towards Las Vegas, and laser defense systems aboard the Lucky 38. In addition, he created a vast army of some two thousand Securitron robots, and stored them in a massive vault in Cottonwood Cove. The war began, lasting only a few hours, and all but a small, faint echo of Vegas, and the world, remained. For two hundred years he waited, his body preserved in an antimicrobial chamber. When he awakened, he quickly took control of the remnants of Vegas, restoring what casinos remained, and organizing the three largest tribes into the Three Families, who were placed in charge of the Strip. After signing a deal with the New California Republic, he prevented the Strip from being annexed, in return for helping the NCR repair the great Hoover Dam, which became the focal point of civilization.

Then, I met him. I was hunting Benny, who shot me in the head and left me to die. I entered the Strip with one mission: To kill that two faced bastard. House offered, or instructed, me to meet with him in the Lucky 38, where no man had stepped foot in two hundred years. Since then, I'd worked for him, remaining neutral of the NCR and the Legion, both of whom considered me an icon. I'd done much under House's banner, including rallying half a dozen tribes to his cause: The preservation of humanity, and the reformation of society. I, under House's watchful eye, had taken Big MT for myself, using the isolation of the mountain-crater for my own purposes. I had robbed the Sierra Madre Casino, using the funds to further House's operations. I saved Zion from the White Legs, earning their debt to House. It was me who killed Ulysses, preventing a second nuclear war. And lastly, using the knowledge of the Think Tank, I had found a way to genetically alter the appearance of a healthy lobotomite to match that of the early Robert Edwin House with ninety-eight percent accuracy. After a few careful procedures, we installed a synthetic brain (similar to the one I was forced to use) that was controlled from House's little snowglobe. While he now controlled a body of his own, my planning allowed him to leave said vessel at any time and return to the safety of his antibiotic chamber. He, thanks to the scientific knowledge of the think tank and my own ingenuity, had the best of both physical and digital worlds. While he never left the Lucky 38 due to the most advanced case of agoraphobia I'd ever seen, he was now privy to the pleasures of the flesh, of which he took great use.

Since the Second Battle for Hoover Dam, I'd been mostly dormant, playing the role of figurehead for the White Hand of Robert House. His army, or armies, followed my direction, cleaning the Mojave's wasteland. In what little spare time I had, I returned to Big MT, where I oversaw the reconstruction of the chaotic area. In the past six months, we'd made much progress. We'd added a casino for the lower class, the Silver Star, rebuilt Freeside to at least habitable conditions, and protected most small towns and exterior settlements with Securitrons, along with our allies.

The Mojave was becoming a less chaotic place every day, all thanks to the man in front of me.

"Good," he said, shaking me from my thoughts and returning me to the task at hand, "The St. Eleanor will prove to be a turning point in modern society. People will come from both the NCR and the Legion, and the lands far east, to take part in my luxury cruise down the Colorado River."

I raised my eyebrows, shaking my head. House must've sensed my doubt.

"You think otherwise?"

I sighed, analyzing the situation closely and taking care choosing my words, "I know you enough to know that there is no chance in Hell that you're going through all this just for a cruise line."

House turned to face me, the age lines ever present on his new face. The lobotomite body he had chosen was that of a very healthy twenty-four year old man, in his peak physical condition and without disease or radiation sickness. As a personal effect, House had asked for his appearance to resemble that of himself when the bombs fell, a man in his fifties. This would allow for a physical body that could withstand the hardships of the Wasteland if need be, and yet put on a superficial display of wisdom and experience to match that of the brain within.

"No, of course I'm not. To spend thousands of caps on a simple cruise ship would be folly at this point in our campaign. Have you not deduced my true intentions, Mr. Cash?"

I thought for a moment, calculating all the data. House was a man with centuries of exploiting loopholes and creating angles to every decision he made. "Well," I began, "I would imagine that a cruise under the banner of the White Hand of Robert House sailing freely with impunity down the Colorado River, would state that you were allowed to do just that. Implying that neither the Legion nor the NCR could tell you otherwise. Essentially, that would be your way of claiming that you own the entire river."

House nodded curtly, his face stern as always. "Correct. The Colorado River will be a massive trade route, soon as the Legion and the NCR can find funding for ships. The ability to create a fleet of seaworthy vessels is a decade away for either side, at best. I will essentially create a race between the two to become the next naval power. Eventually they will need to test their ships in combat, and the only way to do so would be to sail past Hoover Dam, and that is where my plan takes effect. If mine is first, then they will have no choices other than to sink my craft, which they won't likely do for fear of my retaliation, or ask my permission to sail the river. I, of course, will allow them to do just that, for a fee. I will tax their trade, and make a fortune doing it. Should either side wish to put even a single lifeboat on that stretch of river, they shall disarm at the border of my territory or be sank immediately. In addition to regulating trade, I will have arranged for the Enclave remnants to patrol the waters for any...disturbances. This money from taxes I will use towards the defense of the Mojave, which as you know, is the land directly between both factions. Owning the desert, and the river, will make me as much their equal as any."

I stared at him for a moment, marveling in his brilliance before nodding. "Understood. As I said, the ship is ready. What else would you have me do?"

House turned back to the giant monitor that previously served as his "eyes" in the penthouse, now displaying a hundred different feeds from the faces of the Securitrons. He tapped a handheld tablet, and one of the panels went full screen. The image was of Hoover Dam, the perspective taken from far below the wall, down by the river. The Securitron turned, panning across a large building, a dock, and the cruise yacht. Two other robots were visible patrolling its deck.

"While my Securitrons are elite, even they cannot defend against an attack from the Legion, or the NCR, on their own."

"You said nobody would attack the ship."

"I said that it wasn't likely," he corrected, "However, both the NCR and the Legion are furious that I played them as fools and took control over the Mojave. They will seek to strike back at the soonest opportunity. An opportunity," he pointed at the image of the ship, "Such as twenty rich gamblers aboard an expensive ship, far from my current jurisdiction. This will place these men, all NCR citizens, at the mercy of their government, the Legion, and any other band of raiders."

"And you want me to defend the ship? I'm one man."

House nodded slowly. "You're one very talented man. However, you are correct. Now," he held up a hand, bringing another image up on the massive monitor. The image flickered to a group of NCR Elite Rangers, garbed in their black attire. "The NCR has changed a few of their policies as well, making it nearly impossible to become one of these, a Veteran Ranger. This benefits me, as men of such talent will have little action in such a time of peace. I have contacted the NCR, and informed them that in exchange for their assistance in protecting one of my investments, I will allow them to trade on my river, as the Legion can, though the amount they are taxed per ship will be half of what the Legion is. Considering the amount of trade they will be doing via the Colorado once they are able, this will be an invaluable chance they will not miss. Now," he pointed back at the monitor, "Where these Veteran Rangers come into play, is that they will be hired to protect the ship. A small team will be with you, maybe five others, will accompany our maiden voyage, ensuring that while the Enclave readies themselves to defend the St. Eleanor, the passengers will not be harmed."

I sighed again, weary of talk so early in the morning. "Why wouldn't you just put five Securitrons aboard the ship? That leaves plenty of room for passengers and crew, and allows for you to guarantee their safety."

House remained expressionless, no doubt preparing for this question. "Five Securitrons, with their new upgrades, could engage enemy forces on land or in the air with ease, so long as their numbers didn't exceed thirty units. However, the ship's passengers would feel more at home if they knew several Rangers from their homeland were guarding them, and not robots loyal only to myself. And besides comfort, my Securitrons are not yet waterproofed, though the improvements are being made as we speak. One heavy wind and they could be tossed overboard. They are not suited for naval warfare just yet."

I picked at a piece of fraying fabric on my tie, absentmindedly depositing the string in my suit jacket pocket. "And you want me along to keep the Rangers from stealing your ship?"

"In part, yes. Though I also need good faith with the NCR after our conflict at Hoover Dam. They've reluctantly agreed to this mission, only because you will be there. My guess is they will try to sway you to their flag. So, they've sent Craig Boone to lead the defense. I know he is your friend, however, your duties lie with-"

"Not you, House. My duties lie with humanity. You're their best hope, so I'll do whatever is required to make sure that you survive, and prosper. End of story."

House made no indication he'd even heard me. "Yes, as you say. You have your orders, Cash. Carry them out as admirably as I know you will."

I nodded, avoiding his eyes.

As I made to leave, my hand pressed against the scanner that operated the lift.

"Cash," House said from behind me, "Do remember that you are my direct representative, and you're among the most prominent men in the NCR, outside of their military. Try to avoid dressing in your standard wasteland attire, and perhaps carry a suit and tie with you. Carry on."

"Fuck you," I muttered, stepping into the lift.

Before the doors closed, House asked, "Did you ever receive a response message from your friend in D.C. regarding his cooperation in my Empire?"

I snorted derisively. "Yeah, he says the same thing as my friends in the Mojave."

House frowned. "And that is?"

I allowed a small grin. "Fuck you, Mr. House."

The lift doors closed, blocking out House's cold fury.

..

...

..

Caesar's Palace, Throne Room, Texas.

9:15 AM, March 20, 2282

Pius, Frumentarii

"House has a luxury ship on the Colorado?"

I nodded, doing all in my power to hide my fear. "He has it ready to make her maiden voyage in two days, your liege."

Caesar growled, his knuckles rapping on his polished wood throne. He took a moment, staring around the palace, which was, according to record, a former city hall of some form. "You, as a Frumentarii, are tasked with preventing something like this. House might as well have just slapped me in the face, and told me that the fucking river was his. Does the NCR know of this?"

"Yes, milord," I felt sweat beading on my neck, "When I attempted to investigate further, I ran headlong into Vulpes Inculta. He and I then discovered that a small team of five Elite Rangers are aboard the ship as well."

Caesar rose from his seat, crossing the ten feet between us in two strides, torchlight gleaming off his bald crown. He flexed his hand around his displacer glove. "They're working together?" he spat, his voice echoing off the stone chamber.

"It would appear so, your majesty. Though the Rangers are taking orders from House, which we've deduced means they are merely contracted as protection. Were they a team, House and the NCR, there would be no need for House's continued blockade along the Divide and occupation of Camp McCarran. He would have to allow a regular NCR presence, which he has not."

The mighty Caesar whirled around, seizing me by the throat. "Oh, you've deduced that, have you? Well, then they are beginning a healthy working relationship, one I cannot allow," he turned away from my face, still holding my throat, and spoke to a Praetorian standing beside him, "Inform one of the Decanus, Severus in fact, that he is to sink this damned vessel at whatever the cost," he turned back to me, "We will atone for your failure, Pius."

I knew what awaited me: Crucifixion. "My lord, I have always ever served you-"

Caesar slapped me across the face, causing my vision to flicker.

"YOU FAILED ME!" he roared.

I felt strong hands seize my arms, dragging me upright. Caesar stood in front of me, his face cold, emotionless. In his right hand, he had replaced his displacer glove with a simple combat knife. "You should have seen this coming, Pius of the Sixteen Blades tribe. One might even say you saw this happening, and chose to do nothing. In Rome, the punishment for that is severe."

He grabbed my chin again, while a strong hand yanked my head back, exposing my throat. "You will pay for your lack of vision, Frumentarii."

I felt the blade slowly pierce the edge of my eye, and begin cutting around my eye socket. My entire face felt as if it had been set aflame, the pain beyond the tolerance of any man. He's cutting my eyes out...

I screamed until my voice broke, and I could only manage a strangled gurgle. Yet the Caesar did not stop. No, he finished my right eye, and moved onto my left.

Though I could not be angry at my master, as I had failed him, and I would pay the price I deserved.

..

...

..

Aboard the St. Eleanor, Colorado River, Hoover Dam

8:12 AM, March 23, 2282.

Johnny Cash.

I descended the rocky slope cautiously, my All American rifle clasped firmly in my hands. I could see the Rangers walking among the twenty or so NCR folk who paid large sums of caps to go on this "relaxing" cruise. Through the polarized visor of my Chinese Stealth Helmet, I could easily make out which Ranger was Boone: The only one with a sniper rifle. I relaxed a bit, knowing that he'd be on board with me. Of all the companions I'd had in my time in the Mojave, I trusted Craig Boone the most.

As I made my way to the ship, I reflected on Boone's past. After a long tour in the NCR's elite sniper division, First Recon, his wife and unborn child had been taken by Legion slavers from Novac. He'd mercy killed her to prevent her being tortured, and the thought had destroyed him for a long time. He'd also been one of the snipers who had been ordered to massacre hundreds of women and children during the battle of Bitter Springs, between the NCR and the Great Khans. I'd been the one who had helped him get over his role in those many deaths, and the deaths of his family. Since, we'd been as brothers, separated only by our duties.

The Rangers were stiff and alert as I made my way onto the ship, removing my helmet so they could see it was truly John M. Cash, and not some impostor. Boone removed his own helmet, a grin cracking his ever serious visage. He extended a gloved hand.

"Johnny Cash, it's good to see you."

I shook his hand, grinning in return. "I wish it were under better circumstances, but yes," I eyed his uniform skeptically. He shrugged.

"After we almost killed Caesar at his Fort, they wanted me to become one of their Veteran Rangers. I couldn't miss the chance, not while the Legion was still strong."

I nodded to the ship, and the pair of us left the awed onlookers in our wake, catching up on each other's past six months.

Two hours later, the St. Eleanor was making her way down the Colorado River. The passengers had been shown to their rooms, and were now mostly listening to a man known only as the "Lonesome Drifter" play the guitar and sing a love song. Any others were playing at one of the card tables, or else simply enjoying the view of the water.

I was sitting across from Boone, a shot of brandy in the bottom of my glass. He was likewise drinking, laughing at my recollection of our adventure to parlay with the Boomers, a tribe located at Nellis Air Force Base that prides itself on its demolitions abilities. There were two other Rangers seated with us, listening intently while the other two were on watch.

"So," I finished wiping a tear from my eye, "Craig grabs my arm as these mortar shells are landing all around us, and," I slapped the nearest Ranger on the arm, "You know his serious face," I imitated Boone in a comical manner, getting a laugh from the entire table, "And he says, 'Cash, I got shrapnel in my ass."

Each of us, Boone aside, threw our heads back and roared with laughter so loud that the gamblers cast annoyed looks in my direction. One of the Rangers pounded his gloved fist on the table, nearly causing a glass to crash to the floor. After a few moments of mirth, I sighed, chuckling, and finished my glass.

"Yeah," Boone said, his face resisting a grin, "Then we had to do all their bitch work to gain their favor, only to have them turn their guns on the NCR at Hoover Dam."

The other Rangers fell silent.

I held up a hand. "Hoover Dam was to be under the control of House. I have never hidden the NCR blood on my hands, though I will defend myself in saying that before Hoover Dam, and after, I have never attacked an NCR citizen or soldier. I can certainly give recorded proof of several scenarios where NCR troops opened fire on me without provocation. But we are here to set such things into the past, are we not?"

"But your allies took great pride in fighting both of us. And the stories are still told of the Man in Black and the absolute fear he put into the hearts of both the NCR and the Legion at Hoover Dam. I believe the official kill count from you personally was over two dozen."

I shrugged. "How many of our allies did the NCR kill? Come on, Boone. Nobody's innocent in war."

He grunted, but I saw him relax dramatically. I ordered another round, just beer this time, for the table. "I'm buying, as a token of good will between House and the NCR," I held up my beer, which they mimicked, "To the good men of the New California Republic."

"To the NCR,"

I made eye contact with Boone, and the pair of us left the table shortly after. Leaning on the railing of the ship's stern, I stared out at the water.

"Don't try to get me to join the NCR, Craig, you know I won't."

"I wouldn't ask you," he replied, sighing and leaning on the rail beside me, "You made it clear that you're with House, kid. And that's better than being with the Legion. At least House is friendly with us when if profits him."

I nodded, glad that he understood.

"So, you think this trade idea of House's will work out?"

He shrugged. "If House doesn't stab us in the back, sure. But at the same time, we'd be fighting Legion ships all the same. But House doesn't care if we and the Legion have to share a river, so long as he taxes both sides."

I shrugged as well, knowing he was right. "That's true. But at the same time, he's got...ideas, that will prevent either side from fighting each other. If I know House, he's going to be the only one with guns on the Colorado."

Boone shot me a look. "The NCR will never disarm to trade with House. Especially not with Legion troops on the water."

"The river belongs to House, Boone, there's no denying that," Craig grunted again, but didn't argue, "And if I know him, which I do, then if he knows that you attacked the Legion, or vice versa, on his river, then he will deal with that accordingly. By next month, he'll have enough armed personnel on this river to occupy Paris."

"Come on, Johnny. Even the NCR would be hard pressed to control the entire river, it's massive. Thousands of miles long."

"House only wants the small stretch that borders Nevada. That's maybe two hundred miles of river, but at either end, it'll be marked so both factions will know when they're in his waters. This prevents another setup like Caesar had at his Fort. Nobody can invade the Mojave unless he wants them to."

Boone remained silent for a moment, then said, "I suppose that wouldn't be too bad."

"The Legion can do with what they want north of the border, just as the NCR can do whatever they want south of it. Two hundred miles of river... granted, that's the most key stretch, as anyone actually wanting to go anywhere on the river will have to pass through his area, but that's why he wants it. He'll make a fortune."

Boone snorted. "And if he lets Legion into our waters, through his, then that's an act of war."

I held up a single finger, "And likewise, no? So, he's decided that any ship entering his waters will be unarmed, like I said. Even if they wanted to attack the other faction, House will have forced them to remove their weapons, so neither side could attack the other, at least not through his waterway."

Boone sighed, wiping his eyes. "Alright, fine. It's not a bad idea. But I've got to sleep. I've been up for days. I'll catch you in the morning, Cash."

He clapped me on the shoulder, and made his way down to the crews' quarters.

I waited for him to leave, and then brought my Pip-Boy up to eye level. As if on cue, an image of House sitting at his desk came onto the screen.

"Well?" He asked, raising one eyebrow.

"The NCR listens very closely to what Boone says. If we can convince the NCR brass like I've done him, then this deal will go down without any bloodshed. Our only issue is the Legion. They'll oppose us the entire way."

"Then they'll be crushed." He replied simply, "Get some rest, Cash. Then enjoy your cruise. I shall send a Securitron to the Legion explaining this treaty, though it is likely you will have to deal with them in person."

"I understand, Cash out."

I lowered the Pip-Boy, and sighed, staring out over the water.

"Shit in the Mojave is about to get real."