A/N:
Reviews:
Frantichamster: I would just like to point out that Nihlus and his team's fate in the last chapter was far from conclusive.
Guest: The ECI do have actual warships, although they are relatively few in number.
metaladdict: Yeah, it always bothered me how some authors portray turians as a race of mindless killer robots hellbent on exterminating anyone who so much as looks sideways at an inactive mass relay. Their codex entry states that Turians don't differentiate from civilians on a battlefield or warzone, which is somewhat understandable given their very militarized culture, but this incident was different. Finishing a war with ruthless efficiency is one thing; Starting one by shooting down and unarmed colony ship full of innocent men, women, and children is quite another. Humans are similar enough in appearance to asari that Turians (Whose facial structure of two eyes, one nose, and one mouth is improbably similar anyways) would be able to sympathize with them quite easily, particularly younger and less experienced soldiers like Nihlus is here.
And yeah, Mavriun's career (and that of the general who promoted him) is in the toilet no matter how this goes down. When you attack an unknown vessel without knowing who it is, end up killing every single colonist onboard a civilian ship, get almost two entire squads of soldiers killed (who have families that will now ask questions, who are also potentially in the upper echelons of themilitary given Turian traditions) and mistakenly drag your race into a war with a technologically superior and now supremely pissed-off, xenophobic, fascist race with a gigantic army of synthetics and enough genetic variation that the genophage trick isn't going to work, you have officially dropped the ball.
Zarl : Lord Death is very much a last resort for Mr. House. When you call him in, it is with the expectation that any kind of negotiation or truce is officially off the table. The Securitrons control and suppress, whereas Lord Death annihilates. He is the nuclear option. As in, they would consider the use of actual nuclear weapons to be less objectionable than sending in Lord Death. Because you can control nuclear weapons, you see.
Fractious Day: There are other countries on earth, but New Vegas is the only one that has access to space aside from the NCR.
The Lucky 38 Hotel & Casino was the pride and joy of Mr. House. It was his legacy. He had built it not only in the hopes of a mere business venture, but to carry the future of all mankind on its back. It wasn't just a place of luxury and vice – The supercomputer and laser cannons mounted atop the tower proved to be the very instrument of New Vegas' salvation. Without the Lucky 38, there would have been no New Vegas. There would only have been the Mojave Wasteland.
That said, The Lucky 38 was many things. It had been one of the largest and most advanced casinos in its day, barring that theme-park-esque monstrosity Sinclair had built out in the desert (Which had been overrun by Lord Death and his ghoulish minions, anyways). It was a certified five-star hotel, complete with restaurant and Presidential Suite (Which was now littered with guns and ordinance Lord Death had forgotten there). It was the secret sanctum of Mr. House's earthly body, from which he directed all of his automata and their affairs. It was not, however, a center of government.
Mr. House was uneasy about hosting any sort of secure meeting or the like within his sanctum, and never entertained the thought of keeping on a permanent staff. Besides, his Penthouse, the Restaurant, the Presidential Suite, even the Casino…None of these places were truly a good fit for the sort of administrative tasks that were vital to proper governance. Still, governance was necessary and, capable as he was, there was no feasible way for him to micromanage the entirety of the new world order.
Therefore, he had found it prudent to commence construction on an independent capitol building for his new government. While he admired the efficient and corporate model of business, he also preferred to maintain the sort of autocratic expediency he had enjoyed as the shadowy overlord of New Vegas for the last few decades. He had tossed around several theories in his head, and ran numerous mathematical simulations on how to best craft a sustainable government model. Obviously, being a question that mankind had struggled with for millennia; it had taken quite a bit of thought on his part to work out all of the bugs. Eventually, though, he made up his mind.
It was a bit of Fascism and Statism combined with the illusion of democracy common to dictatorships from around the world. At a broad, nation-wide level, Mr. House maintained complete control. He could order his Securitrons, Astrotrons, or other employees virtually anywhere in New Vegas territory whenever he so chose. Nowadays, that included the Midwest, the East Coast, much of the Northern Territories, Anchorage, The Southeast, and virtually all of humanity's space colonies. He controlled these colonies through a strong robotic garrison on every world that arrived when the colonists did, controlled through the Holographic Communication Network he had built via satellite buoys placed strategically both in-system and in the Extrasolar Frontier. He could push through whatever laws he chose, while the New Vegas Parliament functioned as yes-men and menial task managers dominated mainly by members of the Three Families and the local aristocracy from around the Vegas area. People like Doc Mitchell, The King, Cliff Briscoe, and the like. Successful businessmen from small communities who knew how to look after their own interests (in other words, the smooth-running of their localities) would handle the day-to-day affairs within confines set by Mr. House, but would not impede his own large-scale efforts. This freed Mr. House from tedious tasks such as basic administration such as taxing and the distribution of foodstuffs to those who could focus on such issues in their daily lives, so that he could concentrate his efforts on more important matters such as foreign policy, large-scale economic growth, and the future of their species.
He had, of course, been forced to make concessions to a number of groups both within and without the borders of New Vegas in order to ensure that his new nation maintained optimal efficiency. In particular, the NCR required special attention despite President Tate being in his pocket from the get-go, but that was unavoidable. Lord Death was an extremely capable employee when it was time to brandish the stick, but he was not the sort of man to whom you entrusted the carrot.
The largest demand the NCR had was sovereignty over some of the colonies with the largest concentration of NCR citizens. Among them, Mr. House had been forced to allow the annexation of Callisto, Europa, Io, and Titan. The first three were some of the larger Jovian colonies, but ultimately expendable resources. The loss of Titan was what really ground on Houses' gears… It was one of largest and most prosperous colonies in the outer system, and its proximity to Saturn allowed it to harvest large quantities of natural gas and mineral resources from the asteroid belt. House had designs on that colony from the beginning, but the NCR had decided to concentrate their allowance of colonists into huge colony clusters, rather than spread out over the Solar System as Mr. House had intended.
Still, Mr. House retained control over a majority of the system and all of the Extrasolar Frontier. His Securitron Army grew stronger every day, with the War Factories in New Vegas churning out constant replacements for new colonial garrisons. Not a single colony endeavor left Earth without a prefabricated Securitron 'barracks' vault included in the ship, and Mr. House had curbed the NCR's attempts to gain access to the other side of the Charon Relay by cracking open additional control vaults throughout the Midwest and the East Coast.
The relatively new Astrotron units were also being manufactured in great numbers, mostly in New Vegas. The Mojave Wasteland, being a desert, was empty by its very nature. After his rivals in the area had been dealt with and the land was no longer contested, Mr. House was able to make use of the power supplied by the Hoover Dam not only for domestic and transportation purposes, but also to power numerous new manufactories for his robots.
He had resurrected his old business enterprise, RobCo, and combined it with the other derelict assets in the area to form RobCo-REPCONN, a conglomerate entity meant to fulfill the role of a contractor within the economic vacuum that had been New Vegas before Mr. House rebuilt it. That wasn't to say he had no competitors- The Gun Runners, the Van Graffs, the Kings and their ilk. Thanks to the repaired infrastructure of the Monorail network and the improved highway system, merchants and traders began to flock to New Vegas.
With the fall of Caesar's Legion several years ago, and the subsequent annexation of their lands into New Vegas sovereignty, the merchants who used to do business in those areas were attracted to New Vegas as an obvious hub of wealth and finance. Since the fall of the Legion, raiders and ex-legionary warbands still roamed the wilderness in a lot of those areas. The situation was to Mr. House's advantage, so he let the savages stew in the hills while he made a tidy profit from the traders driven into New Vegas' waiting arms by their petty banditry.
The government of New Vegas was, therefore, supported by an even stronger economy than they had at their disposal before the annexation of the Hoover Dam. They had the tacit cooperation of the NCR, if only because their leaders were in Mr. House's pocket and victory against New Vegas in the event of war was uncertain, if not impossible. Disorganized Raiders and tribal bands were still a nuisance, but they were easily dealt with by the swift application of a detachment of Securitrons and Vertibirds. The Brotherhood of Steel was still hiding out in the mountains, somewhere, but he was confident that he could track them down given time. He imagined that the Satellite Weapon Lord Death had up in orbit over the Earth would make short work of them if Mr. House called upon him.
Those weren't the only enemies that New Vegas had to contend with, of course. While Mr. House had a more or less stable alliance with the NCR and its leadership, the same could not be said for the other nation-states that had popped up on Earth since the Great War. Lord Death had proven to be very successful in his campaign of conquest to the East. All of the Legion's former territories were absorbed by New Vegas, along with the Midwest, The Capitol Wasteland, Pittsburgh, Maryland, the Commonwealth, and much of the Southeast. From his telemetry feed, Mr. House could see that the Key Islands of Florida were beautiful this time of year, if you ignored the horrendous Waterlurk infestation. However, this was just the largest portion of a single country on an entire planet.
Since the launch of his satellites into the stratosphere, Mr. House had observed the existence of several other rising nations in the rest of the world. He had dispatched robotic spies to discover all the information he could to the far reaches of the old world.
Europe was more or less dominated by the ultra-reactionary Albion, an aristocratic monarchy based on juvenile fantasies and misunderstood ideals of the Dark Ages. It operated under a feudal system, with 'High King' Fairfax residing in the ruins of Buckingham Palace in London. Over the course of its existence, Albion had conquered most of the other principal European nations, from Spain all the way to Poland and the Balkans. Its feudal government promoted constant infighting and jockeying for power, and their technological level was only slightly above tribal. Most people still used swords, spears, and plate armor if they were lucky. They were still living on a barter economy with elements of coinage thanks to a de facto gold standard, a la Caesar's Legion. Europe's stringent Gun Control Laws from before the Great War made modern firearms a scarcity, so they had to practically relive the age of black powder weapons. It wasn't uncommon to find Bandits and Pirates armed with flintlock weapons and cutlasses. Mr. House imagined that the raiders plaguing the Americas would find them rather cute.
Russia was in the grips of a devastating nuclear winter, and was mostly governed through councils composed of the various settlements living in the old 'Metro' subway systems deep underground. From what House understood, Russia was plagued by mutants even worse than their American cousins, and was currently undergoing a civil war between a Neo-Nazi and Communist government. Little in the way of economic development save a few isolated trading settlements deep underground. The situation brooked observation, but he would wait for the dust to settle before intervening.
China, having already been in bad shape before the war and then hit the hardest with America's nuclear stockpiles after a crippling invasion, was still a radioactive wasteland. The American soldiers had emptied out their bomb shelters during the invasion, either out of spite or in order to discourage them from launching their bombs first. Obviously, it didn't work. It did, however, mean that there were almost zero survivors.
Japan now had its own Empire again, making it the largest and third most advanced nation on the planet. They had radio, electronics, public education, organized farming….And a powerful Navy-based military. They controlled Australia, the very Eastern edge of the Chinese coast, Korea, Vietnam, Laos, Cambodia, India, Indonesia, Taiwan, and a large portion of Eastern Africa.
Africa, for its part, was covered by a thick, nightmarishly mutated jungle. Man-eating animals, plants, and even trees skulked throughout the irradiated savannah, and what few tribals there were made the Slither Kin look and the White Glove Society look downright hospitable. The jungle had expanded upwards, infesting most of the Middle East with its creeping roots that slithered just beneath the surface of the desert sands. The grasping tendrils injected nutrients into the ground, and the trees seemed to advance as one up north and through Turkey. It was almost as if the jungle were alive-intelligent. Suffice to say, Mr. House had decided to leave it to the Japanese to do the initial legwork of clearing it all out to be fit for human habitation.
And of course, there were closer neighbors right here in the Americas. Central and South America had recovered very well from the apocalypse. Deforestation had practically reversed itself, and the lush jungles and pristine woods began to overtake the cities with a vengeance. Rio de Janeiro was the seat of a new kingdom down there, and several petty warlords ruled over the rest of gran Columbia. They reminded Mr. House of the banana republics of the pre-war years, but without the false pretenses of democracy.
Lord Death himself maintained several personal fiefdoms within the borders of New Vegas that Mr. House had almost no influence over-Normally, such rivalry from an employee would have chafed, but Mr. House knew better than to press the issue-although to be honest, from what little he had seen of those places, he probably wouldn't want anything to do with them in the first place.
Lord Death had taken over that old mutant-infested, toxic-misted, Hologram haunted Casino Sinclair built just before the Great War. Mr. House had been planning to demolish the place at some point as a last spit in the eye to his old business rival, but Lord Death had swooped in and conquered the place for himself.
He also controlled the Big Mountain facility, somewhere that Mr. House was very interested in. Lord Death had been obstinate as usual, at first, but some careful persuading (Threats never went over well with that one, as Mr. House had carefully observed from the fates of Caesar, General Oliver, and many a tribal or raider chieftain), 100,000 Bottle Caps, and a well-timed discovery on Mars convinced Lord Death to allow Mr. House access to the Big Mountain and its secrets.
The resulting technological breakthroughs accelerated his plans tremendously, and along with those "Prothean" ruins discovered on Mars, allowed Mr. House to launch hundreds of colonization endeavors over a relatively short period. There was never any shortage of volunteers – No one, it seemed, could wait to escape this little rock they'd turned into a radioactive wasteland.
But all of this was getting away from the original point- governance. The center of government for New Vegas had been constructed adjacent to the city. It was known as the National Assembly, and it was the seat of Parliament and Democracy (such as it was) in the wasteland. It was an impressive, red brick structure with a green dome overhead. It had four wings connected to a central square structure with the dome overhead, where Parliament met regularly. The whole thing looked like a large 'plus-sign' shape from overhead, with a green dot in the middle and sharply sloping tile roofs. The New Vegas flag stood proudly over it all, a Platinum-with-black-trim poker chip over a dark green field.
Members of parliament were elected in one of two ways; Popularity or Executive Appointment. Popularity was, essentially, a traditional election. The New Vegas Sovereignty was divided into 6 Territories : The Midwest Territory, The Southeast Territory, The Commonwealth, The Capitol Wasteland, The Northern Territory, and New Vegas proper. Space Colonies were not represented in Parliament, because the Securitron Garrisons were more than enough leverage to ensure their cooperation for the time being. Each territory was divided into further divided into Regional Districts. These represented smaller sub-communities, like Goodsprings, Westside, Aerotech Park, or Freeside in New Vegas. Each Regional District would elect a Representative, and each Territory would elect a Chief Representative. Representatives governed local issues, collected taxes, and reported to the Chief Representative. They could only participate in Parliament in an advisory capacity to their Chief, not in any official votes. The Chief Representative participated in Parliament, and was charged with bringing truly important matters to the Chief Executive Officer's (Mr. House's) attention, along with other Rubber Stamp responsibilities. Territorial Laws were decided on in Parliament, subject to Mr. House's approval or veto. National Laws were the sole prerogative of Mr. House.
Of course, in case of crisis or emergency such as war, plague, or insurrection, sole authority over all matters civil and military were relegated directly to Mr. House. That was the theory, anyways. In practice, however, the Chief Representatives from each territory often found ways to drag their feet if they were not kept appraised of the gravity of the situation. As Mr. House had learned from his dealings before the Great War, no amount of threats or sanctions could stand in the way of a truly obstinate politician.
That is why the room before his Holoscreen was arranged as it was, that day. It was a moderately spacious but immaculately decorated room, with dark green, poker-table carpeting and fine wood furnishings. Well-aged wines flowed freely from bottles, along with biscuits and cakes of every flavor. The maroon walls were lined with paintings, bookshelves, sculptures, and other decorations. In the center, a polished round table standing on seven legs sat in front of the screen.
Eight people in total were seated at this table. Now, these were not the eight most powerful men in New Vegas. Far from it, in fact. But they were clever, and sometimes even wise. More to the point, they could either accelerate or retard Mr. House's response to the current crisis.
First was Chester Donaldsen, a wealthy caravan merchant from the Midwest. He had greasy, fat features and beady green eyes. His blond hair was graying and combed over his head, and a thick caterpillar moustache sprouted from his lip. He had been a collaborator with Caesar's Legion, trading in everything from guns, food, supplies, and slaves. These days, he was the leader of a strong joint-stock company comprised of the former traders in that area, rather like the NCR's Crimson Caravan Company. Donaldsen's company, Donaldsen & Associates, was a marginally smaller operation, but covered a significantly wider area. He leveraged the company's resources over the Midwest's population to maintain control. Donaldsen would strong-arm locals to elect his caravaneer business partners and cronies into representative positions, and controlled voting through monetary incentives and intimidation. Still, he had a keen mind for business, and his Territory's taxes and economic growth were well within Mr. Houses' expected margins. A grasping, greedy, disgusting, petty, and useful man to keep around.
Second was Aloysius Findlay, the self-purported southern gentlemen from one of the large plantation-owning, inbred, and pseudo-aristocratic families that infested the Southeast. He had silvery, smoothly coiffed hair and had a sharp, hungry look to his wrinkly face. His eyes never smiled, no matter how his mouth would grimace. When Lord Death swept through the region with his army of mutants, Findlay and his family were one of the few that escaped his notice. They bolted the doors shut down in their well-stocked basements, and re-emerged in time to greet Mr. House's occupation force. Aloysius and his family cut a deal, and he was elected as Chief Representative in exchange for promising to keep the pace amongst the swamp folk in the region. Findlay ran a tight ship, leaving Mr. House no cause for complaint. He was here because he felt entitled to be included with the others, and because Mr. House supposed that his low cunning and cut-throat attitude might prove useful in some hitherto unforeseen scenario, and so indulged him.
Third was Dr. Terrence Farnsworth, the Director of the Institute. He was the obvious choice for Chief Representativeship in the Commonwealth, having both political leadership experience and the respect of his constituents. The Commonwealth had already been well on its way to recovery before its annexation by New Vegas. They had already had access to clean water, electric power, radio communications, and safe roadways. Moreover, they had an educated elite coming out from The Institute every year in greater numbers, allowing for rapid societal redevelopment. Most telling of all, Lord Death's intervention had not been necessary, as they had agreed to Mr. House's very generous terms willingly, in exchange for a somewhat greater deal of autonomy than the other Territories were permitted.
Farnsworth himself would perhaps be first amongst Mr. House's advisors within the Chief Representatives in Parliament, if he hadn't had an agenda and interests of his own to account for. As it was, the man was educated and intelligent to a degree that few of the other Chief Representatives could boast, but Mr. House simply couldn't trust the man. He always had cold, calculating grey eyes behind those horn-rimmed glasses of his, and he never allowed his mouth to deviate the from the thin line he had perpetually set it in. His pale skin was free from wrinkles and his hair was dark, but he was impossible to call young. His eyes were too old, never mind the number of nuclear winters he had endured. He wore a stark, practical yet pristine white lab-coat over a formal brown business suit, along with a navy-blue necktie.
Fourth was one of the most outspoken member of Parliament, one Dr. Madison Li. She was a frail, aging woman, but her temper was no less fierce for it. She had long been a trusted elected official and research doctor from Rivet City, an old aircraft carrier anchored off the coast of Washington D.C. It was the largest settlement in the Capitol Wasteland, and that combined with her contribution to Project Purity (a major scientific/humanitarian endeavor to distribute clean water to all of the peaceful settlements in the wasteland), she had all of the votes required to more or less legitimately win the election for the seat of Chief Representative of the Capitol Wasteland.
After Lord Death swept through the region and uprooted the local chapter of the Brotherhood of Steel infesting the Pentagon, he left Project Purity alone as per his agreement with Mr. House. Rivet City assumed all security responsibilities for their water caravans, but the roads were kept safer by roaming patrols of Securitrons and the usual mercenary groups Mr. House hired to keep order. There were some problems regarding Rivet City and Madison Li's past collusion with a terrorist organization, but Mr. House resolved merely to keep a close eye on them. The Capitol Wasteland had stability and relative peace, but the balance was delicate. He couldn't afford to throw an entire economic region into Chaos over past wrongdoings, so Mr. House simply embedded numerous spies and other surveillance measures in the region to keep an eye out for possible Brotherhood activity and let Li off with a warning. He had let her know that she was still on thin ice, though, so if she was still in contact with the Brotherhood then she must have been very good at concealing it.
The next Chief Representative was Timothy Horton, from the Northern Territory. He presided over much of the Montreal Ruins as the Marshal of the Winter Rangers, famed throughout the former Canadian protectorate for his adventures against mutant Yeti tribes, Snow Raiders, and his numerous victories against the militaries of several other settlements, from Vancouver to Toronto. Canada had actually warmed up over the last century due to freakish weather at home and around the globe; its climate was still cold, but closer to an American winter than a Russian one.
Horton had been elected based on his popularity as a celebrated military hero, famous for conquering numerous settlements for Montreal's little empire and exterminating a hostile tribe of mutants from up in the Yukon. He united the myriad settlements of the Northern Territory against the Yetis, driving them back to their ice caverns and firebombing their nests. It sealed his recognition as a national hero in the north. Further, he led a valiant yet fruitless campaign of resistance against Lord Death's mutant horde, and made mincemeat against any mercenaries Mr. House deigned to send. In the end, Lord Death slogged it out with Horton's army in the middle of a blizzard, inflicting horrible losses and scarring Horton himself for life. The long, ugly gash still ran across his left eye, covered by a black piratesque patch. The man himself sat among them today, in a smart red coat and black trousers, complete with combat boots. He was getting on in years, with a few streaks of grey tinging his short cropped brown hair, but there was still steel in his remaining eye. Even accounting for the army at his back, Horton had been one of the few men to have ever faced Lord Death and lived, an impressive feat in and of itself. Along with his strategic and tactical prowess, as well as his popularity amongst the Northern Territory's residents, and Mr. House could not discount the man's usefulness regardless of how Hortons resistance irked him. He could be a valuable resource or a terrible enemy, alive or dead. Mr. House being the businessman he was, he chose the former option and allowed the man to assume his post as Chief Representative of the north.
The last of the Chief Representatives was arguably the least important, considering that his governorship of the New Vegas Capitol Territory was tenuous at best, given the constant supervision and micromanagement inherent to working on Mr. House's doorstep. Swank Chairman, now reaching the end of his middle years, was a holdover from the Three Families. Like most of his fellow ex-tribals, he used the "Chairman" surname for legal documentation purposes whenever it was required. The Tops, despite the trouble they experienced years ago when Benny was…violently ejected from his leadership position, was probably the most popular of the older casinos.
New Vegas, having become a boomtown in the ensuing years of the formation of the original Free Economic Zone, had expanded rapidly over the course of the last twenty-eight years. New Casinos sprang up as Mr. House distributed additional licenses to wealthy wastelanders in order to facilitate economic growth. With the new blood came restaurants, stores, Holovid theaters, apartment buildings, and grocery stores. More and more people flooded into the city that never slept, bringing their caps with them. Tourists, gamblers, prostitutes, prospectors, miners, mercenaries, doctors, and even scientists and artists made their way to the growing city. Cheap labor was in endless supply, allowing for swift construction efforts to commence. New buildings seemed to spring up every night, and the caps kept on flowing into the Casinos more and more.
In order to keep themselves competitive in this new economy, of course, the Three Families were forced to expand along with their Casinos. The Tops, Gomorrah, and the Ultra-Luxe had become superstructures to rival the Lucky 38, in girth if not height. They were multi-level hotels, Casinos, restaurants, sports arenas, and theme-parks, all compressed into three gigantic compounds.
Swank had risen to leadership within the Chairmen after the downfall of Benny, and was one of the quickest to adapt to the changes occurring in New Vegas after the formation of the Free Economic Zone and the subsequent creation of Mr. House's corporate empire past the Mojave's borders. He was actually the first of the heads of the Three Families to begin recruiting full members from the general population, a groundbreaking trend that was now ubiquitous amongst the former tribals.
And now Swank sat as the Chief Representative of New Vegas, although he was kept busy by his own business interests and kept quiet firmly underneath Mr. House's thumb. His input was not precisely necessary for this meeting, but it was standard procedure to keep all members of Parliament equally appraised of emergency situations, such as this one.
Aside from the Chief Representatives, James Hsu, the Ambassador and former Lt. General of the NCR was also standing next to the table as a courtesy. His presence was not required at all, but Mr. House had calculated that it might be useful to include him in this particular incident. Not only was the man a brilliant tactician and a natural leader, he could also serve as an effective linkage institution between Mr. House and the NCR military, given the man's record and connections. Much as he hated to admit it, all of his projections necessitated the inclusion of the NCR's army in the upcoming scenario if he wished to avoid unacceptable losses of his own assets.
"Gentlemen." He intoned over the electronic connection between his Sanctum in the Lucky 38 and the Holoscreen in the War Room. Through the digital filters of the screen, he watched as a few of his "trusted" advisors squirmed and flinched. Donaldsen, as always, began to sweat like the swine he was as Mr. House finished opening the network connection. Findlay remained poised, although he still had to visibly recompose himself. Farnsworth appeared bored, as usual, his thick, polarized glasses preventing any expression to betray him. Li was glaring and frowning up at House's avatar, and Horton was just as stoic as usual, sitting stock still in his seat, rigid. It seemed as though the man never learned how to relax. Hsu regarded him neutrally, simply evaluating. Assessing. He was the most dangerous of them all, save Horton.
"I trust that you have found your accommodations to be agreeable, as always…" Mr. House continued, going through the tiresome ritual of the beginning of an important board meeting. Truth be told, this sort of thing was just as tedious to him as it had been 230 years ago, but hard lessons he had learned when he was young and foolish had taught him that rituals must be observed at every level of organization. The routine, the banal…It was all more important than it appeared, at first glance. It was a system, and Mr. House had mastered it long ago.
Of course, despite the lavish furniture and artificially refrigerated atmosphere, (Having become a must-have for men of means in the boiling heat of the wasteland since they became economically viable.) none of the people at the table could be called 'comfortable'. Only Swank was in a familiar climate, and even he seemed to squirm before Mr. House. People never really got used to his smirking, vaguely amused visage appearing on an enormous Holoscreen on the wall, or to his clipped, precise diction. You were either immune, or you weren't. Farnsworth and Li put on a good show, but his sensors informed him whenever he was getting under their skin. Hsu and Horton never even blinked.
"Yes, of course. Most agreeable." Findlay ran his mouth first, feeling the need to put on the unwarranted aristocratic airs he was used to donning down in the South whenever he held court with his cronies. Donaldsen went next.
"Oh yeah. Real swanky digs, like always. Real nice." The gormless, overweight slug attempted to patronize them with some kind of feigned folksy naiveté routine. It fooled no one. Even Findlay rolled his eyes, which was quite uncharacteristic of the usually high-strung swamp baron.
"Then we should get to business immediately." Mr. House returned to his usual, detached tone. The digital audio speakers mounted at the bottom of the Holoscreen reproduced his voice in crystal clear quality, despite the sound itself being a synthesized rendition transmitted from a microchip embedded in the part of his brain that was normally responsible for speech. His audience sat at rapt attention when he spoke; One of the many perks of only opening one's mouth when they had something intelligent to impart (a lesson he suspected had escaped many of the people in the room before him).
"Two days ago, at approximately 3:04 AM Earth Standard Time, ECI headquarters lost contact with the Patterson, a colony rocket carrying forty-one RobCo-REPCONN employees." He said, getting right down to business. Ambassador Hsu and the Chief Representatives listened intently, staring up at the Holoscreen.
"So you lost one of your rocket ships. Big deal. Space is dangerous. What's it got to do with any of us?" Horton asked bluntly. The gruff man may have had a relatively high position within the Sovereignty, but it was clear that he wasn't very happy with what he saw as an infringement upon the traditional independence of his Territory.
Mr. House didn't let the aging war hawk's lack of decorum get to him. Honestly, he was greatful to be prompted as to the meat of the business they needed to get to. Every second of posturing and protocol simply distracted from the main point.
"The 'Deal', Chief Representative Horton, is that before we lost all telecommunications with the Patterson, telemetry reports from the rocket's hull and the Securitron complement within revealed the entity behind the incident. This wasn't some natural disaster or accident. It was an attack." This was startling news, to say the least, and the principal members of Parliament reacted appropriately. Chester barely understood the gravity of the situation, and Findlay barely cared. The incident didn't affect them directly, so it was beyond the scope of their selfish, feeble minds. Farnsworth seemed more intrigued than anything else, raising an eyebrow above his round glasses. Li looked shock, but remained composed, indulging in a mere widening of the eyes to demonstrate her reserved surprise.
Swank didn't say anything, but he visibly gulped and pulled out a cigarette. He lit it with his titanium Zippo lighter, perhaps to disguise the cold sweat he had broken out into as the product of convection. He at least, appreciated the implications of this revelation.
Horton snorted, and smirked amusedly, of all things. His scarred features twisted into a grim smile as he no doubt reveled in the schadenfreude of the moment. Whenever they had meetings like these, the Canadian general was always the first one to suggest solutions reminiscent to those of the Ape-man, although he never had any particular care for issues that didn't pertain to his own Territory. Then again, that was just the way Mr. House preferred it.
"Oh? I was under the impression that 'RobCo-REPCONN' had an 'enforced monopoly on the production and use of all technology pertaining to interstellar flight'." Horton quipped, quoting one of the National Laws Mr. House had established to ensure that only he and his employees would have access to spaceflight. While it was true that the NCR had a space program of their own, they largely had to make due with hand-me-downs from RobCo-REPCONN, or hideously expensive and inefficient projects like the NCRS Olympus.
"We do. All of our crewed warships were accounted for at the time of the attack, as were all Astrotron units." Mr. House saw Li begin to open her mouth and interject, but he cut her off by raising the volume on his speakers. "Lord Death was confirmed to be inside the Mars facility at the time, Chief Representative Li. I'm afraid your little grudge has no relevance as to this incident. No, this was not an attack from within, I assure you. But you don't have to take my word for it. Before they were disabled and subsequently self-destructed, the onboard Securitron Garrison were able to transmit their telemetry and black box data back to the nearest comm buoy. I think you will find it to be most…enlightening."
With that, the room fell into silence as the face of Robert Edwin House on the Holoscreen was replaced by a high-quality visual of the wrecked interior of the Patterson. A few members of the audience were familiar with the construction of the ship – It was essentially a miniaturized Vault, optimized for the efficiency of space and energy requirements inherent to space travel. The derelict Vault-Tec laboratories, factories, and ZAX computer data that survived the Great War proved to be a wealth of information, all of it geared towards the development of a space colonization program in the event of nuclear war. It was ideal, and the numerous (extremely unethical, but Mr. House couldn't argue with their results.) experimental Vaults provided a treasure trove of useful information. Most colonies were standardized, being composed of colony rocket itself after an excavation of a suitable space, living off of whatever supply stores they brought with them. While the colonists waited underground, the G.E.C.K. would begin the terraforming process on the land above. After its completion, the colonists would use whatever resources they claimed for their colony to construct additional settlements, farm areas, and manufactories. In this way, every colony was a self-contained and expanding economic unit, protected (and controlled) by a small army of well-armed Securitrons. They would trade whatever resources they extracted for consumer goods and in lieu of taxes whenever an ECI ship would pass through the system, allowing them and by extension, RobCo-REPCONN, to prosper.
The engineering deck of the Patterson scrolled by as the Securitron patrolled the halls, having been automatically activated out from hibernation mode when one of the rocket's critical systems failed. Artificial gravity was clearly inactive, as various bits of paper, metal, components, etcetera floated through the halls. Every Securitron that was expected to be deployed on a colony or rocket was fitted with magnetic plating on their wheels and rotary micro-thrusters behind the chassis, in order to facilitate movement even in zero-g environments.
The next few sights that greeted them brought a grim pallor to the faces of those amongst the audience who cared for such things. Chief Representative Li felt obligated to demonstrate to everyone in the room how very empathetic she to her fellow human beings, momentarily looking away and grimacing whenever a new body appeared on screen. The majority of the colonists had died from asphyxiation, due to a shortage of pressurized spacesuits. Such things weren't economically viable to suit every single colonist with on the frequently stretched ECI budget. The rockets were produced in bulk, and Vault-Tec jumpsuits were easily modified to become air-tight spacesuits, but most of those were already in use by the ECI's military arm. The Patterson was very small by ECI standards, having less than fifty colonists in total. They negotiated to stay together in a closely knit group, under the school of thought that introducing outsiders might cause an upspike in disorder and raise tensions in any colonization effort they were involved in. This theory was supported by an acceptable percentage of Mr. House's mathematical projections, so he indulged them.
Colonies that didn't have roots in the same Control Vault, however, were recruited from a myriad of backgrounds, and often numbered in the hundreds. Outfitting every single colonist with a spacesuit and training them in their use would be an unacceptable waste of both time and resources when a few engineers could repair eighty-seven percent of exterior components within a reasonable time period. Efficiency was the name of the game in rebuilding human civilization in such a short time, and sometimes that involved cutting corners that could result in short-term losses, such as these.
This proved to be the doom of the Patterson colonists, however, and Mr. House began to wonder whether he should take measures to outfit future colonists with emergency gear. The death of these colonists and the destruction of their prefabricated colony was a substantial economic loss, not to mention the disturbing implications of the full Holovid. They watched in silent, horrific fascination as the bodies drifted from corridor to corridor, and the Securitrons pushing through without a second glance.
It was not long before the culprits behind the failure of the rocket's life support systems were discovered by the Securitrons. Several tall, armored, and distinctly inhuman things were stalking through the now unlit halls, waving around flashlights and pointing what could only be firearms in front of them. They conducted themselves in a rather focused, disciplined manner. They moved with great economy, leaning around cover and enacting a faint approximation of 'search & capture' military tactics, no doubt looking for survivors.
Mr. House had spent the last day analyzing these strange creatures and their physical characteristics. No skin was left exposed by their all-encompassing, armored spacesuits, and even the visors were polarized, so he didn't have as much data as he would have liked. The shape of their limbs suggested relatively superior strength and dexterity to the average human, and they obviously possessed advanced technology. They moved with grace and purpose, although that could just be from training. As it was, he knew very little about them, save that they were obviously soldiers of some sort.
Alien soldiers. Boarding a ship that all of the telemetric evidence suggests was torn apart from a large projectile weapon hitting it across the starboard bow at a fraction of the speed of light – Ripping the entire rocket in two. Colony rockets weren't designed for combat – Their mini-asteroid armor worked just as well against a bullet, but it wasn't useful for deflecting dedicated firepower from another ship or ground installation. A few of the colonists that decided they wanted to go back on their contract with RobCo-REPCONN once they were safely in space found that out the hard way, after Mr. House sent his Astrotrons after them.
Regardless, these aliens were almost certainly responsible for the destruction of RobCo-REPCONN property and the death of forty-one of its employees. Fortunately, in the event of an extraterrestrial attack, the Securitrons were programmed to either neutralize the invaders or Self-Destruct, after transmitting all of their data through the telecom network and wiping the on-site hard drives.
The ensuing sight on the screen was a brutal display of carnage and destruction as the Securitrons threw everything they had at the aliens…at short range, in a confined environment. Whatever countermeasures were built into the seemingly sophisticated armored spacesuits they wore proved to be all but useless against a prolonged onslaught from even the secondary weapons of the Securitrons. Mr. House had taken note of the fact that laser weaponry in particular seemed to bypass the Kinetic Barriers they deployed to block submachine-gun fire.
Kinetic Barriers had been one of the many derivative technologies they had adapted from the alien cache on Mars. According to Mr. House's calculations, there was a 41.3% chance that these aliens were the race that first invented this technology (and would therefore have a greater mastery of it than humanity). On the other hand, there was a 59.7% chance that they were another race entirely, and found a similar cache on one of their own space colonies. This theory had the most support so far, given that their use of the technology (kinetic barriers of similar strength, mass effect-based weaponry of similar caliber to human equivalents based on telemetry data, etcetera) was more or less on the same level of their own.
Mr. House's Securitrons put up a valiant fight against the alien assailants, neutralizing all but a few of them before they were disabled. They had actually been outnumbered, with only four units remaining operational on the entire ship after the hull was compromised. Apparently, the cargo bay had been directly hit when the ship was split open, outright vaporizing most of the garrison. A few Securitrons had been sequestered elsewhere to discourage the colonists from dumping their cargo hold in the hopes of reneging on their contract, and those were the ones that fought off the aliens before detonating their fission cores and probably shattering the already derelict wreck completely.
Unfortunately, what was left of the alien boarding party after the initial ambush managed to regroup and whittle down the Securitrons until enough systems were disabled to trigger an automatic self-destruct program. The Holoscreen went black when the last Securitron fell to concentrated gunfire from the stubborn alien soldiers. Mr. House's portrait reasserted itself, and he gauged the reaction from the stupefied audience.
"I trust that this recording has proven most educational." He said. Madison Li blinked rapidly as her jaw hung open in shock. Donaldsen looked vaguely confused, fidgeting in his chair and staring up at the screen dumbly. He may have been a skilled businessman in certain senses, on a local level, but likely did not possess the intellectual capacity to comprehend the true significance of what he had just witnessed.
Horton glared at the Holoscreen with his good eye, grinding his teeth and balling his hands into fists.
"Aliens!" Horton pronounced unnecessarily. It was as if he wished to impress on Mr. House as to how much more seriously he took this threat than his colleagues on either side of him, Donaldsen and Findlay,who looked a little bored, of all things. Mr. House would've rolled his eyes if it were not completely pointless and illogical to do so.
Farnsworth gaped at the display in naked fascination, eyebrows shooting up above his rounded spectacles.
"What an amazing discovery!" He exclaimed, speaking for the first time today and feeling the need to lean forward in his seat. "Real aliens! Intelligent life forms from another solar system! And what's more, they seem to utilize the some of the same derivative technologies that we do! Phenomenal!" He seemed entranced in wonder, speculating and theorizing to himself, doubtless. Mr. House suppressed an amused chuckle. He, like most of the earthbound humanity, was only vaguely aware of the origins of Mass Effect technology. Most people knew that it was of extraterrestrial origin hailing from Mars, but few were privy to the particulars. Element Zero was sparse in the Solar System and nonexistent on Earth itself, with most imports of it being used to produce rockets and space-ships, terrestrial vehicles, or state-of-the-art robots and weapons.
Swank kept his trademark poise, adopting a more relaxed analysis of the situation. "So these bent-legged green men from outer space found one of our ships. And they're shootin' our people up. Obviously, that just ain't gonna fly with you." He let out a puff of smoke from his carcinogenic nicotine cylinder, exhaling loudly before coughing twice. Mr. House calculated that the man had less than fifteen years of effective life, even counting the recent rediscovery and implementation of modern medicine.
"Precisely." Mr. House replied. "The purpose of this meeting is to inform all of you as to the nature of this threat, as well as putting our allies in the NCR on their guard." Ambassador Hsu nodded in acknowledgement.
"We appreciate your forthcoming with this information, your Excellency." Ever the picture of protocol, Hsu was one of the only people in the room who used Mr. House's official title of Autocrat and all of the associated niceties while negotiating in private. While this professionalism was a breath of fresh air amongst this motley crowd, it was also somewhat disconcerting. It kept him always separate, at arm's length. Between the Chiefs (And indeed, current NCR President-for-Life Heck "Hurricane" Gunderson) , there was always a mutual understanding between them as a cohesive entity within their young nation (either willing or unwilling, to various degrees). Hsu, though…He was like a foreigner. Like an injured animal that was playing dead to lull its natural enemy into complacency. It was a whole breed of them, in the NCR – Those who abstained from outright resistance to New Vegas' influence but refused to surrender completely.
"It would seem that this is a crisis that concerns all of humanity, beyond national or cultural boundaries." he continued, leading into another point in the discussion. "On my authority as the NCR's Ambassador to New Vegas, I of course pledge our full support to whatever response your government deems appropriate." Not that the man had much of a choice, Mr. House noted. He could extract a similar promise from Gunderson at any time he chose, although Hsu's word understandably carried more weight than a corrupt, geriatric puppet. Mr. House wondered what his game was… Even as moderate as Hsu generally was, he was being too reasonable. Too quick to cooperate. He was up to something.
"I'm glad to hear it." Mr. House deadpanned, his tone of voice making it clear to all present that he had never expected anything less. Donaldsen, of course, had the audacity to snicker obnoxiously, although Hsu paid him no more mind than he ever did.
"So you called us up here to tell us we're at war, is that it?" Horton did his best to affect a façade of grim resolution, but Mr. House saw through it. War. The word seemed to drip off of his tongue like the salivation of a starving wastelander experiencing a mirage of a thanksgiving banquet. Horton tried his best to pretend to be a proper general, a hero than everyone looked up to. But he couldn't quite keep the hunger from his voice at another chance for glory…and bloodshed.
"We are in the process of making preparations for that eventuality, Yes." Mr. House stated bluntly, shocking some of the more naive members of his Parliament, and bringing a quiet sense of anticipation to those otherwise inclined. "These aliens, whatever else they may be, have attacked one of our Colony ships without provocation. They destroyed RobCo-REPCONN assets, murdered our personnel, sabotaged our endeavours to colonize the Extrasolar Frontier, and are suspected of attempting to steal our intellectual property. Under RobCo-REPCONN's exclusive contract with New Vegas, it is the responsibility of this governing body to bring the full brunt of its military to enforce the rights of RobCo-REPCONN and all of its subsidiaries and employees. Therefore, as is my prerogative as Autocrat of the New Vegas Sovereignty, CEO of RobCo-REPCONN, and Chairman of the ECI, I hereby declare a state of national emergency and move to deploy a Task Force to protect our colonial assets in the Frontier." He made his speech imperiously, leaving no room for argument or dissent from his Chiefs. It was of paramount importance that Humanity maintain its momentum – the new economy was in boom, and Mr. House would not allow a recession born from misguided fears of alien attack stall mankind's expansion into the stars.
Needless to say, the motion was carried unanimously, as were all of the Autocrat's decisions. It was, in fact, in violation of the contract of any Chief Representative to dispute any proposal put forward by the reigning Autocrat. Next was the true purpose of the meeting, the real reason that he had called together all of the Chief Representatives together and invited the Ambassador to the NCR.
"With that business out of the way…" He continued, almost flippantly, without missing a beat. He followed up his little speech with the same bored tone as a newscaster moving on from sports to the weather. "We now move on to the next order of business. As my proclamation indicated, I have elected to put together a Task Force to defend our systems from possible future attacks, and if possible, search for and pursue these aliens back to their planet of origin. We must contain this threat if we are to continue on the course to rebuilding our civilization, and ideally nip it in the bud before it becomes a real annoyance. To that end, RobCo-REPCONN will contribute a force of ten-thousand Astrotrons and fifty-thousand Securitrons to the Task Force." Mr. House watched in silent, smug glee as the room fell into silence when the coin dropped.
"Ten-thousan- Fifty thousand?! You have that many of those things?" Horton snapped disbelievingly. No one else in the room had a military background, so the numbers probably just flew over their heads. Horton (And Hsu, but he was disciplined enough to keep his thoughts on the matter to himself), it seemed, was the only one who understood what those numbers implied about New Vegas' military capabilities.
"Indeed. RobCo-REPCONN facilities on Mars and here in the Mojave produce both models in bulk to meet the security demands that were always going to arise from having so many widely dispersed colonies out in the frontier." Mr. House provided enlightened them with his plausible reasoning. In truth, a large and powerful military loyal only to him was never without its benefits…regardless of the circumstances. "In addition to RobCo-REPCONN's contribution, the ECI will also contribute four-thousand employees to the Task Force. Under their contract with New Vegas, the ECI will be loaned military-grade equipment in order to effectively combat the threat. I think that you can all agree that such measures are required, as evidenced by the footage you've just seen for yourselves." He was, of course, referring to energy weapons. By treaty between New Vegas and the NCR, energy weapons were highly regulated commodities, available only with express permission to individuals by the consent of the Autocrat. Rarely was an entire organization given a blanket allowance for the use of energy weapons. Of course, this was a special case, being a violent first contact with an alien race.
"I see where you're going with this, House." Said Horton as realization dawned on him, crossing his arms. "You want us to volunteer troops to defend your colonies."
"Exactly." Mr. House wanted exactly that. Even with the already impressive force at his disposal, he would need more to adequately defend the Frontier. Much as he hated to admit it, his projections didn't have enough data to conclusively tell him how many resources he should commit to this adventure. For all he knew, the aliens were a dying race of only a few thousand, doomed by some genetic disease or other circumstance. Or they could be a massive, interstellar empire spanning hundreds of worlds and numbering in the trillions. There were simply too many variables. The best course of action in the face of an unknown like this was to dedicate as much as he reasonably could to the defense of his assets, and if all else failed…well. There was always the 'Nuclear' Option.
"And I suppose RobCo-REPCONN will be conducting our troops to the Frontier, given that we have no spacecraft of our own." Farnsworth reasoned, taking the opportunity to launch a somewhat sullen passive-aggressive barb at Mr. House's monopoly on space travel.
"Fine." Growled Horton, to the surprise of everyone besides Mr. House. He had anticipated this. The Canadian was too eager for war to pass up an opportunity like this. It was in his nature. It didn't matter if it was ice mutants, rival nations, or aliens; Horton was a warrior, and he had been going a bit 'stir-crazy' in the relative peace and prosperity that followed New Vegas' annexation of the majority of North America. "I'll bring my boys out there myself. Leave 'Houn in charge back home…" He muttered. Bartholomew Calhoun was one of Horton's top lieutenants in his army and a representative himself. More loudly, he said "The Northern Territories'll bring five thousand men to your fight. Just try not to get in our way."
Donaldsen and Findlay each made token tributes of two-hundred and five-hundred men, who would most likely fulfill the menial tasks associated with army logistics or serve as disposable cannon fodder. Mr. House had no illusions as to the sort of men either of those two snakes would bring to the table. He'd be lucky to get the rejects and wash-outs from the Territorial Militias, but was it was much more likely that he would receive the leftovers from their prisons, ex-raiders, chem addicts looking for a cheap score, or unscrupulous and untrained mercenary gangs.
Madison Li, while loathe to lend support to anything set forth by House but not wanting to give him an excuse to finally be rid of her, offered a full thousand-man battalion from the Capitol Wasteland's Territorial Militia. Such men were generally below the par of the mercenaries and soldiers recruited into the ECI, but were for the most part reliable and semi-competent. Slightly more trustworthy than Donaldsen or Findlays contributions, but that wasn't saying much.
Farnsworth actually managed to surprise him with his contribution. A dozen of the Institutes fabled and much-coveted androids, with military programming and equipped with energy weapons. Mr. House raised a mental eyebrow at this. The Institute jealously guarded their android technology, and he had only managed to scratch the surface of their research with all of the bullying and coercion he could afford. That Farnsworth was willing to submit so many to Mr. House's reprogramming was most…unusual. Perhaps the man was hoping to gain something out of this from a quid-pro-quo standpoint. Maybe incentivize the Autocrat to throw some alien technology his way in recompense. If so…Mr. House would consider it.
Swank, being the local delegate of the most prosperous territory and not wanting to be shown up, was able to double Horton's contribution. Ten-thousand soldiers from all around the New Vegas metropolitan and suburban areas. Mr. House kept a close eye on his residential dominion, and he could personally attest to the quality of these troops. New Vegas' Territorial Militia was a truly professional army. There were no day jobs or moonlighting as farmers or other menial jobs. They trained every day 24/7, some of them since early childhood, to protect New Vegas from its enemies. Their familiarity with Securitrons and other advanced technology would be useful as well.
Last, but certainly not least, Ambassador Hsu offered up his own contribution.
"An impressive assemblage. But this threat has a lot of unknowns. If this war is going to happen, then the result will affect more than New Vegas. All of humanity has a stake in this conflict. With that in mind, and in accordance with our treaty, I would like to offer the contribution of military aid from the NCR. I can't promise anything specific without confirmation from my superiors, but I would imagine that they will appreciate the gravity of this threat as much as I do. You can count on our support." Hsu was extending a lot of olive branches today. What was he playing at? Gunderson, had, of course, already been informed of the incident and given instructions to prepare the generals loyal to him to mobilize their military. Ambassador Hsu was here to ensure the cooperation of the myriad 'dissident' faction within the NCR, particularly the military. Mr. House would have to look into why he was being so cooperative in this matter. He usually put up more of a fight whenever New Vegas leeched resources from the NCR through their government. The situation justified a few projections, at least, but it would have to wait. The alien invasion had priority.
"Excellent." Mr. House responded neutrally but with vague approval for the sake of appearances. "Have your men proceed to the local ECI Space Centers in your Territories. Transports have already been prepped. The NCR can rendezvous with the rest of the Task Force at New Anchorage when you get your fleet together. That will be the staging area for the foreseeable future. I will be overseeing the operation personally, so have your men ready to receive further orders as soon as they arrive."
All told, the New Anchorage Task Force consisted of ten-thousand Astrotrons, Fifty-thousand Securitrons, twelve Androids, 20,700 men, and an indeterminate number of ships, soldiers, and armor support from the NCR.
It was the largest army ever assembled since the onset of the Great War. Even so, it Mr. House knew that it wouldn't be enough to stop a dedicated invasion by post-spaceflight race barring extenuating circumstances. Still, if the worst should come to pass, Mr. House always had an ace up his sleeve.
Codex : New Anchorage
New Anchorage is the most populous and prosperous colony in the Extrasolar Frontier. It is home to over 100,000 humans and 12,000 Securitrons. New Anchorage is the only colony in the frontier to have undergone a "complete" terraforming procedure; every square mile of the planet, from pole to pole, has received a G.E.C.K. saturation, the combined efforts of which have rendered the planet into a true Garden of Eden. The planet is now green and teeming with life, with specifically tailored ecosystems of plants and domesticated animals designed to serve human needs.
The planet is regarded as the crown jewel of the ECI, and a proof of concept for Mr. House's colonization efforts. It is upheld as a standard for the future in the Frontier, regarded as the example of what humanity is capable of under the leadership and guidance of New Vegas. Holovids of the almost supernatural beauty of the lush jungles, rolling hills, and bountiful agriculture are streamed to Earth day and night as a propaganda tool, in order to attract more colonists and to reinforce New Vegas' position as humanity's last, best hope.
The citizenry of the NCR has expressed an interest in acquiring co-colonization rights to New Anchorage, citing the historic ties between the two nations and a willingness to assume additional defensive and economic responsibilities. President Gunderson has pushed through a several levies and taxes based on the platform of further negotiations with New Vegas, and Parliament has hosted several televised discussions with Ambassador Hsu regarding a potential allowance of colonization rights for wealthier citizens of the NCR, provided certain concessions are met. So far, talks have stalled due to obstinacy on the part of the "Old Guard" traditionalists elements of the NCR government and military who oppose the perceived growing influence of New Vegas, of which Ambassador Hsu is widely perceived as the spokesman.
In 2309, the ECIS Patterson restocks its supplies at New Anchorage's largest Space Port and capitol city, Dawn's Landing, shortly before disappearing just outside the system.