Old World Blues

Chapter 1

The Courier stood in the Lucky 38 Cocktail Lounge overlooking the New Vegas Strip. He watched drunken revellers encourage strippers to dance for them. A few had NCR uniforms on, but they were only a minority where they'd been a majority before. He sipped the Whiskey and pondered all that had transpired in the past few weeks. So much that it seemed he'd known no life before it. He only had vague recollections of his life before being shot by Benny. He remembered being a Courier, carrying packages through hostile territory. He remembered sniping Radscorpions, evading Deathclaws, killing a few troublesome Raiders. He had no recollections of the various towns and villages he'd grown up. He'd always been on the road, always travelling.

He awoke from the grave with an insatiable thirst for vengeance. Like a divine wind he swept through the Mojave on the path of the man who shot him in the head. He tracked him like Hawk stalking its prey. All was going more or less smoothly until he hit Nipton. He knew of Caesar's legion and its methods but had never seen them up close. They were a brutal reminder of the insidious barbarism of the past, what a pre-war writer had termed "the nightmare of history."

As he continued on his road, he saw further things that implanted ideas beyond vengeance. He met reminders of the futility of holding onto the past, and more, what harm hanging onto that past can do. A past in which this scorched, barren wasteland was its legacy. There was the former NCR sniper Craig Boone, racked with grief over the loss of his wife and unborn child, and his part in the Massacre of Bitter Springs. There was Rose of Sharon Cassidy, her caravanning business ruthlessly stomped out by the bigger competition, unwilling to do anything other than indulge in drink, debauchery and self-pity.

Once in the Strip, after he'd killed Benny by impaling him with Pool Cue's and retrieved the Platinum Chip, he met the personification of this: Mr. House. An autocratic recluse sealed in a hyperbaric chamber that had kept him alive in the years after the War. He'd admired him, for his iron will, his intellect, his farsightedness, yet he was just as a much a fool as "Caesar" or anyone else. He wanted to relive the past, or at least, an idealized version of the past, remembering only its small glories and benefits, while ignoring its massive failures. The NCR was as bad as any, using old symbols without knowing their true meaning. Using old systems because new ones were too difficult to implement. The past was only useful if it served as a lesson for avoiding mistakes, not for repeating them. There was a need to break from the past, to forge a new way. He saw, or Yes Man made him see, the way to forge that way.

With the same determination and cunning that he pursued Benny, he sent out across the Mojave to consolidate this future. He befriended the isolationist Boomers, hoping he could wean them to interact with outside world on a far more productive level. He met the Mojave Chapter of the Brotherhood of Steel, and the exiled Veronica Santangelo. He wept for them, so trapped in the past that they forgot all about the future. He and Veronica wanted the Brotherhood to cast off its isolationism, to spread its knowledge and expertise throughout the Mojave for the benefit of all. Yet there were unable and unwilling to do this, abandoning all reason in favour of following their Codex, a document that had long since lost its relevance.

The Brotherhood massacred a Followers of the Apocalypse outpost, when Veronica was on the verge on joining them. This was meant to teach a lesson, but from it Veronica learnt a different lesson than what had been intended. She fully abandoned the Brotherhood and joined the Followers outright. Seeing the piles of goo that had once been innocent Followers members rekindled the flame of vengeance within the Courier. After consoling her at the Old Mormon Fort, he snuck into their outpost and activated their self destruct device. A few escaped. Now homeless and rudderless they wandered, the bunker a smoking pile of ruin. He never visited Old Mormon Fort again, he feared what Veronica would say, do to him. Although it had been necessary, he'd killed, no... murdered her family.

He met Arcade Gannon, a man obviously hiding from his past, trying to be his father's man, instead of trying to be his own. They travelled together to shrines of pre war technology like the RepConn Test site and Helios One. Eventually Arcade opened up, about once belonging to the Enclave. He'd heard legends about the sinister Enclave, how they were the ones who set up the Vaults, who created the FEV Virus, who blackened the sky with their Vertibirds. It was absurd to him to think than an intelligent, witty man like this could emerge from such a sinister organization. Through Arcade he met other ex-Enclave members, they were hardly the monsters of legends. But they all held onto the past in the same, wrong way.

He travelled beyond the Mojave, to Zion National Park, the Sierra Madre, the Big Mountain and the Divide. He saw the errors of the past, but he also saw triumphs of the past. Autodoc machines, matter replicators, seed cloning technology. It was time for the Mojave to move beyond survival, to thrive again, while not repeating the mistakes of the past.

He'd fought at the second Battle of Hoover Dam, alongside his Securitrons, Boone, Cass, Lilly, Ed-E and Rex. They slaughtered all the legion threw in their way, as well as a few NCR troopers who got in his way. Personally he slew Legate Lanius as he'd slain Caesar, by reducing him to a pile of ashes. He'd taken his helmet as a trophy, the helmet now stood in his presidential suite, along with his other trophies and treasures.

The Courier remembered with glee the shocked locked on General Oliver's face as he read the terms of their withdrawal. He'd objected and threatened, the Courier had been mighty tempted to have the General thrown off the dam, but he resisted. Vegas still needed the NCR, its citizens to visit and spend their caps. For now, at least. That had been a couple of days ago. Much had changed, and there was much more to do.

He swigged the last of his Whiskey. Mildly drunk, He was in the mood for a visit to the Thorn. Red Lucy always cleared his mind.

"Yes Man, I'm just going to the Thorn."

"Alright boss, want me to send a Securitron with you?"

"No thanks, wouldn't want you perving in on me."

"Okay boss. Just don't go fighting Deathclaws again."

As he entered Freeside his eyes landed upon the Old Mormon Fort. He hadn't seen Veronica since he'd wiped out the Brotherhood a few weeks ago. His booze riddled mind thought it would be a good idea to visit her.

He opened the doors to the Fort. He was getting used to the looks he got now. A few months ago he was just another anonymous courier, now he was The Courier. Ruler of New Vegas. Arbiter of its new destiny.

He knew what people said about him behind his back. Already, legends were being spoken of him. The Courier who'd cheated death. The Courier who'd slain the Deathclaws infested Quarry Junction with his bare hands. The Courier who survived the Divide. The Courier who'd spared Salt-Upon-Wounds. The Courier who'd saved the Bright Followers, rather than slaughter them. It was difficult not to feel prideful, yet his renown made him uneasy.

Arcade was near the entrance. He'd ordered Arcade to lead a team to the Big Mountain and to research the technologies there.

After they greeted and wished another luck, Arcade told him Veronica was. "She's in bad shape. Even though it's been a few weeks. She probably won't be too happy to see you."

She was the only one in the tent. She sat on the bed, staring stoically at the wall. A torn and dirty dress on the floor.

"Veronica?"

Her body tensed. Slowly she turned to face him. Her eyes red.

She rushed at him. "You... murdering...bastard!"

Her arms unleashed a torrent of firm, wild punches. Some missing, most hitting him. He let her have a few shots before he grabbed her arms to stop her. She continued to struggle.

"Don't fucking touch me!"

"I'm sorry." He said softly.

"You're sorry?" She screamed at him, her voice seething with grief and rage. "You kill hundreds of innocent people, my family, and you're sorry? Fuck you! They befriended you! They trusted you! The only outsider in years! And you be-fucking-trayed them! You didn't have to kill them... They were innocent! But you murdered them just so you could be the Vegas big shot!"

Weeping consumed her, but she continued to push away from him. He let her go.

"Don't ever talk to me again!" She ran away.

The Courier sighed and walked quietly out of the Fort. Everyone was staring at him. He ignored their regards though he could feel their eyes boring into him like sharp daggers. His sunglasses concealed his own silent tears.

She was right. He had murdered them. They weren't mindless ghouls or crazed fiends. He told himself it was necessary, that they were dangerous, they were no different than the NCR or the Legion. But seeds of doubt were sowed into his mind. Maybe he didn't try enough. After all, he'd coaxed the Boomers, why not the Brotherhood?

He wasn't in the mood for Red Lucy anymore.

Chapter 2

A few more whiskeys later, he lay on his bed, looking up at the ceiling. He couldn't sleep. He thought of Veronica. He thought of the dress she'd torn, the dress he'd given to her. She was so happy and radiant wearing that dress for the first time, completely opposite of how she looked now.

He'd killed her family. Silently he wept, reminded of her fury, reminded that he'd harmed her. They'd fought together, saved another's lives on dozens of occasions, joked together and opened up to another. One night, he even made a failed attempt at a drunken kiss. She laughed him off without humiliating him. What kind of girl could manage to do that? Anyway, Cass was more receptive to that kind of affection.

Like a lot of people, Veronica was holding onto the past. But there was one part of her past in particular she held onto, her love for another Brotherhood Paladin, Christine Royce. He'd met her in the hell of the Sierra Madre Casino, damaged physically and mentally. Together, they'd conquered the death trap of the Madre, and defeated Father Elijah. He'd promised her...

"That's it!"

He set off that morning¸ still hung-over with ED-E and a Securitron in tow. He equipped himself with a Holorifle, Maria and a few grenades and his combat knife. He wore his Courier duster and 1st Recon Beret. He was The Courier, there was no need to hide behind Power Armour.

The journey to the Sierra Madre took a few days. The journey was largely quiet and undisturbed, save for an odd Radscorpion or Gecko. The Courier was glad for the quiet and the solitude. He'd always enjoyed solitude, one of the reasons why he signed up to be a courier in the first place.

The towering peaks of the Sierra Madre Casino appeared over a crimson horizon. The more they neared the Madre, the more the sun disappeared. He hated this place. Of all the places he'd been, this was the worse. Here there was no sun, only traps laid by the old world.

He came to the Villa gate, dread settling over his heart. He turned to his robot companions. "The enemies here are known as Ghost People. To be killed they must be dismembered or incinerated. Our destination is the casino. Let's go."

They kept a brisk pace, heading straight for the casino. Dozens of Ghost People hindered them on their way. The Courier was no passenger, firing his holorifle at the swarming Ghost People. He swore, reloading another clip, walking up the path to the Casino. Maybe they should've gone for a stealthier approach. The Ghost People just kept coming. He could see hundreds of them, a swarm forming up behind. No wonder I hate this fucking place, he thought to himself.

He looked ahead; the door to the casino was dozens of feet away. The Ghost People were relentlessly pursuing them.

"Once we get inside, follow me, we're going to the main elevator!" He yelled to his robotic companions, hoping they'd hear them. And then what? He thought to himself. How are we going to get out of here?

He threw open the doors. ED-E and the Securitron we're right behind him, firing their weapons. The Courier slammed the door shut, knowing it wouldn't stay closed for long. He bolted for the elevator. Just as he reached them the front doors burst open. His robot companions blasted away, slaughtering the ghost people as they tried to enter. The doors created a narrow choke point, making it far easier to kill the abominations.

Now the robots were truly able to shine, their weapons laying waste to the Ghost People. Indiscriminately they slaughtered any being that dared approach the entrance. The Courier watched them as he called the elevator.

"Hold this position!" He ordered. He was breathing heavily. Good thing his was heart was cybernetic.

It was a relief to exit the elevator. Slowly he regained his breath.

"Christine?" He called out.

Silence.

He called out her name again. Where was she?

He heard footsteps coming from his left.

He saw her turning the corner, rifle in hand.

"Oh my God! It's you!" She dropped the rifle and ran to him. He wasn't prepared for the tender desperation of her welcome. She hugged him tightly, so tightly he felt was close to suffocating.

He didn't need to hear her to understand her. Even with a voice restored, her actions spoke louder than her words ever could. They held another, neither wanting to let go. The Courier finally allowed a moment of vulnerability, a moment of humanity, wanted this moment to last forever.

Chapter 3

They faced another recovering from their emotional reunion.

"Why?" Christine asked, starting to grow her hair, although it was still a buzzcut at this point.

"I promised." The Courier answered.

"That can't be it."

"No, it's about a third of it."

"What's the other two thirds?"

The Courier tensed. "We should talk on the road."

"I want to know, now. Before we leave."

"I'll tell you on the road." His voice was soft as silk, but his tone was as hard as the Hoover Dam.

Christine softly nodded, recognizing she wouldn't get her way here. He'd saved her life, her sanity, she couldn't begrudge him.

"So, is there a secret exit?" The Courier asked.

"No, but we don't need one." Christine answered.

"What?" The Courier didn't believe it.

"Since your last visit, the Ghost People have come to see me as one of their own. They won't attack us, so long as you're with me."

Had it come from anyone else, he wouldn't have believed it. She was gathering her few belongings in a leather knapsack.

"Ready?" He asked her.

She nodded. He could see affection and gratitude in her eyes. How long would that last?

They piled into the elevator. The Doors opened. There were corpses of Ghost People piled all around the entrance but the Bots were silent.

"Enemy presence neutralized."

ED-E beeped cheerfully.

"Well, you do know how to announce your presence."

They exited by a side door. Ghost people were near. They seemed ready to attack until they saw Christine. Then they silently folded away into the darkness. Their silent benevolence was as eerie as their silent malevolence.

"You weren't kidding."

They stopped near the entrance. With the Securitron's help, they removed a Vending Machine from the wall. Using leather straps it was attached to the Securitron's back. It wasn't until the Towers of the Madre were out of sight and the Cloud a distant memory that they spoke again. They'd travelled after nightfall, determined to leave the Madre behind.

The Courier started a fire and pulled two bedrolls from the Securitron's storage cabinet. He put both bots into passive mode, allowing them to sleep with some form of privacy, but still remain vigilant to warn of a threat.

Christine frowned at the two bedrolls, unfurled on the ground.

"I don't think we need two bedrolls." Her brilliant eyes reflected the flames and firelight almost seemed to radiate from them.

Oh, no. The Courier thought, as Christine began removing her clothes in front of him. His mind was saying one thing, his heart, his body, another.

"No." He said weakly, staring at her full breasts; her supple body seemed to glow in the light of the stars and fire.

She caressed his face. "I need this... you need this." She kissed him and they surrendered themselves to another. By fire and star light they made love. The Courier released himself, allowing himself to become vulnerable and human, for a few more wonderful, if all too brief hours.

Chapter 4

The Courier awoke as the sun began peeking over the mountain tops. For a few moments he struggled to remember where he was, and who this naked woman in his bedroll was. Then he remembered.

"Oh fuck!" He cursed aloud, scrambling out of the bedroll.

It had felt so... wonderful. He was no stranger to sex but to love... He'd realized he'd never made love before until the night before. But he hadn't retrieved Christine for himself: he'd done it for Veronica. He'd betrayed her again.

"What is it?" Christine asked, annoyed and alarmed.

"It's this." The Courier answered, putting his clothes on.

"What do you mean?"

"I mean..." He sighed, struggling to find the right words.

"Shit." Christine cursed. "Don't tell me you're one of these uptight little prudes ..."

"No, it's not that." The Courier said firmly. He sighed.

"Just listen to me, for now, okay?" She nodded.

"I came back for you, not just because I promised you, but because of a couple other reasons. Before I came here, I met an old friend of yours. Veronica Santangelo." Her face changed when he mentioned the name. She looked away from him, remembering old memories. "She told me of you, well, not you specifically, but she told me of being in love. Of the happiness it brought her... I thought I'd try to bring you back to her, to make it up to her, to atone for my sin."

"What are you talking about?"

He looked away from her, afraid to see her reaction. "The Mojave Brotherhood Outpust. They're dead. I killed them." He was expecting an outburst of rage.

She looked away from him, conflicting emotions clashing like a great storm. Where to start?

"Why?"

He paused before answering her. "I want New Vegas to be independent. More than that, I want to build a new world where we learn from the mistakes of the past, instead of repeating them. I helped the Brotherhood. I befriended them. We wanted to bring them out of isolation, to share their knowledge and expertise, to transform the wasteland into a paradise. But they wouldn't change their ways. Elder McNamara was inches from being overthrown, yet those who would replace them would be even more insular and violent than he. I knew once Vegas became Independent they would become more aggressive, they'd become a threat to what I was going to accomplish... If it's any comfort, they didn't suffer."

"You remind me of another Courier I knew. What about Veronica?" Her voice was flat.

"Veronica knows that I killed them. She hates me, not that she's wrong to. But I think if I brought you two together again, I could somehow make up for what I'd done."

"And what about me?" The Courier frowned and for once found the strength to look at her. Her look was fiery and firm but not hostile.

"Do my feelings not matter in this?"

"Of course they do." He answered defensively.

She shook her head. "When I saw you yesterday, I thought you came for me. No one's ever done anything close to what you did for me, when Elijah trapped us. You're the only person I've trusted since... When you squeezed my hand in that power station... I can't describe how that felt, what that meant to me. I left the Madre to be with you. Not with Veronica. If that's what I wanted, I would've left ages ago. Yes, Veronica and I loved another, and yeah, I still think about her but... that was years ago. She's changed, I've changed. I don't think we could work out now... I thought you were all about learning from the past, letting go of the past. That's what you did in the Madre, when you left that gold behind, when you solved the Nightkin's schizophrenia... When you sealed Elijah in that vault, that's what you taught me. Last night was... wonderful... In a way I can't explain. I love *you* ... and I know you love me. I saw it, felt it last night, I see it now, too. I don't know how a man who can reap such death can be so full of love and kindness, but you are. There are legends about you, you know? When you left I became a warden of the Madre, warning off people from that place. People talked about you, the Courier, the new head of New Vegas. The one who came back from the dead. I heard about The Battle of the Divide, between you and Ulysses."

She paused before continuing again. "It's right that you feel terrible for killing those people. But that you feel remorse shows me you're not a monster. I know you have to build a wall around yourself, everyone in a position of power does, but there's times you have to let your guard down, otherwise it'll drive you mad, like Elijah. Its okay for you to let your guard down around me, you're safe with me. I want to be there for you, as you were for me."

The Courier bitterly fought against the tears that flowed from his eyes.

"Let's get going." His voice trembled, trying to restrain the unstable emotion surging within him.

Chapter 5

Freeside was looking nicer, but it wasn't perfect. The debris of old cars and buildings had been hauled away to be recycled, to aid in Vegas 'reconstruction. The homeless and penniless were no longer so, now they were the employees of New Vegas Reconstruction Inc, incorporated by the Courier days after the Second Battle of Hoover Dam. All of the junkies that had littered the street were now being treated either in the Old Fort or the New Vegas Medical Clinic. They were being swamped by demand and they were struggling with supplies. Soon new medical buildings would be erected that could accommodate even more patients, packed to the gills with AutoDocs. He wanted the streets to be littered with Madre Vending machines that dispensed food, clothes. But that was the future, he hoped. The present was a struggle.

"You've done wonders with this place." Christine remarked.

The Courier said nothing. They hadn't spoken much to another since that morning. She *had* to get back with Veronica, it didn't matter how he felt. That was it. No discussion. Christine didn't shy from telling him that his feelings were the exact reason why he wanted to do this.

He walked her to the Fort.

"She's here." He said flatly and walked away towards the Lucky 38, never looking back.

"Such ingratitude, Mr. President, if it wasn't for me, you wouldn't be alive." The Courier chided soon to be ex-President Kimball, speaking via video link.

The President chaffed at this. The Courier never tired of bringing it up and loved seeing him squirm.

"As I said earlier, Mr. President, this is not a negotiation; this is a statement plain and simple. The rate we're charging you for electricity is increasing effective the 30th of this month. The increase is only a minor percentile. Perhaps I was being too generous towards you; perhaps I should increase it further or cut you off altogether."

"No, that won't be necessary."

"Good. I'm glad we're able to have such an amiable chat. I look forward to speaking with your successor in the next few weeks. Goodbye."

Yes Man's face appeared on his video monitor.

"Well, that went pretty swell, don't ya think?"

"Yep." The Courrier pulled a bottle of Whiskey out and began sipping from it.

"I'm just checking in to give you a status report. The Boomers have bombed the Sierra Madre. There's nothing left of it. It shouldn't trouble anyone, anymore."

"Good." It was a relief for that place to be gone. "Anything else?"

"Quarry Junction is operational, but it will take 70.5 days for it to operate at 100% efficiency. Dr. Klein reports production of the AutoDocs and Vending Machines is proceeding behind schedule; they're still having problems with the Y-17 Harnesses assaulting the factories. While they've cleared the debris, a lot of the research facilities are destroyed beyond recognition. Arcade Gannon is working with Dr. Mobius to decode some of his solutions but haven't found anything yet. Some lawmakers in the NCR are calling for a boycott of Independent New Vegas. Figures suggest the pro-boycott politicians are very popular, with the election weeks away. Some trouble in Freeside. A fight broke out with some people trying to get in the Old Fort for treatment. "

He swore. "How bad is it?"

"Only 3 deaths, the Securitrons were able to discourage people from being even more violent. It could be worse."

It could've been worse. That was his mantra of late. He wanted things to be better. It wasn't enough that things could've been worse. He threw the whiskey bottle on the ground, smashing it into a thousand pieces.

"You know, the Maintenance Bots are getting kinda testy about having to clean up messes like that. You know, I got the right thing to cheer ya up, buckaroo. There's an old pre-war comedy troupe called Kids in the Hall that we've recovered some holotapes of. They're so funny they make me wanna crush somebody's head. You should watch them; it'll do wonders for your mood."

"Shut up, Yes Man."

"Okay, boss. I'm just trying to help."

"You appear to have visitors." The videoscreen switched from Yes Man's face to a Secuitron's view. Since the takeover, he'd allowed no one into the Lucky 38. It was necessary to maintain his aura, as well as increase his safety. He recognized them and his heart started beating.

"Let them in. Let them take the elevator here."

He waited for them at the elevator. The doors whirred to life and they opened. Christine and Veronica stood before him.

"Come in." He said.

"We need to have a talk." Christine said.

He led them to a sofa, walking past the broken whiskey bottle.

Veronica seemed to be trembling slightly as she sat down next to Christine, he sat facing them. She started talking, her voice raw with emotion. "I was all set to leave for the NCR three days ago when Christine showed up. It was like a dream or an old-holo movie. But, after the first little while... once we started talking... and I got over the voice thing...she told me everything... and we both realized that what we had before was nice but it can't work out now. Too much has happened, too much time. We've changed... I hated you for what you did. But rescuing Christine for me was... incredibly sweet and noble. But it's also the opposite of what you're trying to accomplish, what you've taught me and everyone who ever worked with you: To let go of the past. Christine and I had something lovely, but that was a long time ago and it's just not there anymore. She loves you now more than she ever loved me. For everyone's sake, let her back into your life. I don't want you to make a mess of things."

He rushed to Christine, tears in his eyes as they embraced another. Silently he apologized and silently she forgave.

Veronica stood and quietly walked away towards the elevator. As the elevator doors closed she caught a final glimpse of the happy couple. She saw happy smiles and joyful tears.

She travelled with the Caravan, away from New Vegas, away from the past, towards her future. She wasn't sure where she'd go yet. The Boneyard, the Hub, Vault City, or some other place she'd find on the way. The Lucky 38 faded from view. As it did, Veronica looked up to the sky, knowing she could freely look up without seeing that towering monolith. She began giggling and laughing uncontrollably, ecstatically, hysterically. Everyone was staring at her, giving her funny looks. It didn't matter. She was free, her forgiveness the proof of her freedom.