Chapter 37: House of Cards

"I ask you to judge me by the enemies I have made."

~Franklin D. Roosevelt

His face was wreathed in pungent smoke and lit with an amber radiance as the courier lounged in an old lawn chair overlooking the Mojave wasteland, the stars just beginning to peek out as the sun fell to the west. A breeze wafted by and stirred the smoke from his cigar in a swirling pattern that mesmerized him for a moment. Smiling to himself, he sat up and turned his head.

"Is it done?" He murmured at the seemingly empty space behind him, taking a long pull from the whiskey bottle in his hand.

"Acknowledged. I have successfully integrated with 'Yes Man's' programming. Encrypted connection established with Lucky 38. Standing by."

The courier's smile widened as he took another drink. A slim pair of pale hands fell onto his shoulders, the red head to whom they belonged resting her head on his shoulder and wrested the whiskey bottle from his slack grip. He chuckled as Cass took a swig, licked her lips and breathed contentedly.

"That's the good stuff." She sighed, dropping the nearly empty bottle onto the rocky ground. He turned to face her and drank in the way the dying sunlight lit up her hair, her beautiful face seemingly framed in brilliant flames.

"Come here you." He whispered earnestly, reaching for her.

She fell into his lap with a giggle and with a hunger that surprised even him, pressed her lips against his with an almost desperate energy. Her husky breath smelled of whiskey as it mingled with his own, her full lips pressing warm and wet against his. She didn't resist as he began to pull off her clothes, and neither did he as she began to tug at his.

Some distance away, a fiercely blushing Jacky lowered her magnoculars and coughed, turning to the questioning look in Ashur's eyes.

"Um, he's… busy."

Ashur smirked as he caught the glimpse of what she had seen through their mental connection and shrugged in reply.

"They have a great deal to celebrate. We'll give them an hour."

"I suppose we all do." Jacky murmured thoughtfully, looking into the valley where swarms of people worked to expand the bunkers and repair the equipment damaged during the conflict with the NCR.

She seemed pensive. Sensing that something else was on her mind, Ashur chose the path of discretion and asked instead of probed, "What is it?"

"I sense something… ethereal. I don't quite know what to make of it. Like a building pressure from the East."

"Could it be the Legion approaching?"

"This feels different. Wilder. Like a wave of chaos rising up from the desert sands. I can't explain it better than that."

Ashur nodded, taking her vague premonition seriously, "We should ask the Commander to detail a recon to the East. A high altitude run by one of the Banshees should work."

Jacky smiled in appreciation of her concern being taken seriously. Of course, as a spectre, Ashur was only too aware of how the mysteries of their unique gifts could manifest. He was a little eccentric, often attributing seemingly minor things to 'spirits' that he would take the time to placate with a few whispered words. Most didn't notice it, but she certainly did. To most it would have added a sense of otherworldliness to the man, but to her, the superstitions made him seem more human.

Wordlessly, they strolled back to the Terran command center in companionable silence, each of them mulling over the events of the past several days and the inevitable conflict about to erupt at the all-important dam.

Ashur let Jacky precede him into the command center and they rode the lift to the top, where the coalition leadership awaited their report.

Standing around the holographic combat information center, Commander Griff, Elder McNamara, Overseer Sara Williams, and Mother Pearl. The latter seemed subdued, and from the angry looks that Nolan shot her way from time to time, Jacky could easily guess why.

The group looked up at the operatives' approached, their muted conversation dying away as they peered at the duo expectantly.

"The NCR remnants have retreated to Camp McCarran." Ashur began, launching immediately into his briefing.

"We estimate that only 32% of the original force is combat ready, though their morale has suffered a severe blow. Additionally, we were able to glean information about an impeding visit. The NCR president himself, President Kimball, is coming to the Mojave. There is a great deal of consternation over this, especially given their most recent loss."

"That presents us with a singularly unique opportunity." Griff mused aloud.

"You mean to kill the president?" McNamara asked, a degree of hesitation in his voice as the idea was unlike the normally ethical Commander.

"No. We're soldiers, not assassins… no offense, to either of you." Griff stated flatly, nodding in apology at the two operatives.

"Besides, killing their president would likely inflame the NCR forces here, especially General Oliver. He still has the strength to come back and drown us in bodies. No, I suggest something a little more subtle."

"Kidnap the president." Sarah put in, surprising everyone with her insight.

Griff nodded at the young overseer, confirming her theory, "Indeed. General Oliver would be shamed at losing their elected leader and we could leverage our custody of the president with the Courier's plan to both rid the Mojave of the NCR presence and force a armistice between them and the Brotherhood."

Nolan's eyes closed as he considered the pros and cons of the plan. Admittedly, he was at a loss to find any downsides to having the president as their guest. He couldn't help but wonder if they could negotiate to have the siege around Lost Hills lifted, and finally re-establish contact with the main body of the Brotherhood.

"Can it be done?" Nolan directed the question to Ashur and Jacky.

The spectre merely nodded in affirmation, his shoulders subtly shifting in a way that told the observant Griff that the man was a little offended at the question.

"Well, let's circle back to that after we discuss these other issues. I trust the Courier has related his plans?"

Pearl perked up a little, as she hadn't heard what the courier intended to do.

"I haven't been informed as to his plans." Sarah replied.

Commander Griff related what the Courier had told him, about his plans to subvert Mr. Houses' control of New Vegas and to ready the city for the inevitable conflict with the Legion.

"Ashur will see to the abduction while Jacky assists the Courier with his plans."

Nolan nodded in satisfaction, "And now, about our other guests…"

"I think we should let the troopers go, but hold on to the officers, especially that venomous General." Sarah put in, continuing to surprise everyone with her directness.

"A difficult choice, as there are hundreds of men and women that can be turned around and form the vanguard of another assault against us." Nolan remarked.

"Then Ashur will have to be sure to secure their president. It will ensure their good behavior." Sarah theorized.

Commander Johnson thought it over for a moment, "How about we stall releasing them until Ashur returns with his package? It will be a good will gesture and by marching their President past their departing troopers, it will both confirm that we have him and further demoralize the NCR."

"I didn't know you were such a student of war and politics, Commander."

They paused as the lift doors hissed open, a haggard but happy Veronica pushing off the elevator rail and pushing herself into the room. She sighed heavily, clearly exhausted.

"How is she?" Sarah asked gently.

"Sharon and Sophia just completed the surgery. They are confident that Christine will recover nicely and that the neural resocialization protocols they used will restore her mind. It'll be a hard road, but she'll have us."

"That's good to hear." Nolan said with fatherly warmth, "It will be good to have her with us."

Veronica's eyes darted around a little as she struggled with the question clearly tormenting her, "About… her and I."

Nolan opened his mouth to speak, but was interrupted when Sarah laid a hand on his arm and fixed him with a meaningful look. He smiled and patted her arm before turning to look at the young scribe.

"You are both fertile young women. It will be expected that you do your duty for the Brotherhood."

Veronica's face fell, her jaw tightening with burgeoning rage.

"However…"

She lifted her face at the caveat.

"You don't have to be paired with a male in order to conceive. Your relationship with Christine is therefore sanctioned. When the time comes for you two to contribute to the growth of our Chapter, we will utilize donors."

The scribe was struck dumb, the reversal of a long held ruling by the Brotherhood seemingly shocking her to the core.

"It fulfills the spirit of the Codex, Scribe." Nolan added.

A very unprofessional, girl-like squeal filled the chamber as the young woman launched herself at the Elder and wrapped him up in a hug. She bawled uncontrollably into his shoulder, the Elder departing from protocol to return the young woman's embrace and murmur soothing nonsense to her.

Some time later…

"I was starting to think you were never going to finish." Jacky quipped.

The courier had the grace to blush, though Cass was not one to be easily embarrassed when it came to her sexuality.

"I have to save some for the after party." Cass boasted, "And I suspect that any more would have broken my man here."

"Thank god for Terran medical science." Paul murmured, to Cass's amusement.

Shaking her head and trying very hard to dispel the disturbing image from her head, Jacky changed the subject, "So where to first?"

"I thought you could read minds or some such?" Paul remarked.

"Yeah, but that's rude. Sometimes it's nice to hear people talk."

"Freeside. I want to stop and see the King and talk to him about keeping the peace in Freeside. If he has the boys to spare, maybe he can help out in Westside too."

"Ever since most of the Followers left, things have gotten worse there." Cass muttered as she searched her pockets for a smoke.

Paul tossed her a pack without breaking stride, "Yeah, we had only barely calmed things down between the NCR and the Kings, so I'm hoping that he'll take that as a favor owed. Given what I know of the man, I think he'll be open to it. Plus… I did save his dog."

The trio set a good pace and reached Freeside with a few hours of daylight yet remaining. The atmosphere was tense and eerily quiet, with the few people in the streets moving furtively.

"Let's stop at the Fort first, I want to see if Arcade is still there."

"You don't think he would have gone with the others?" Cass asked.

"He may have, but you know how he is. It's just as likely his stubborn ass is still there by himself, trying to cure all the ills of the locals and grumbling about it the whole time."

The trio paused in dismay at the burnt wreckage of the one-time headquarters of the Followers of the Apocalypse. The Fort was a literal ruin, its outer walls barely deserving the name and the smell of burnt wood almost chokingly thick.

They stepped gingerly inside, the courtyard littered with detritus and the tattered remains of the tents which once housed the sick and injured under the Follower's care. A grey haired man sat in a rickety chair, shaded from the afternoon sun and held his head in soot blackened hands.

"Arcade?" The courier murmured quietly, as if afraid to violate the sepulcher air of the ruin with a more audible declaration.

The man looked up, and the courier gasped at the barely recognizable wretch that gazed blankly at him with red rimmed eyes.

"What the hell happened?!" Cass shouted, moving to approach Arcade.

"Stop!" he gasped, though his voice came out reedy and thin, "You… go!" The man struggled to swallow, the words barely intelligible past his swollen tongue.

"Run…" Any further words were cut off with a profound sigh, as a spear suddenly transfixed the man, whose feet had been bound to the chair.

"No…" The denial rang empty in his ears even as he uttered it. Paul whipped around and drew his weapon as a shadows detached from the walls and flowed into the courtyard.

"Frumentarii." He growled, "Be ready…" He paused in surprise when he noted that it was only he and Cass in the courtyard.

"Caesar will be pleased." One of the assassins hissed, "The wretches will writhe in agony as this den of iniquity burns around them and exalted will we be when we bring the infamous Courier's head to the Legion."

The man who spoke would say no more, as his head blew out from the force of the bullets the courier fired into him. The courtyard erupted in violence as gunfire suddenly filled the once quiet space, Cass's shotgun barking in tandem with his own shots.

Spears whistled through the air, a line of fire erupting along his side as he jerked to the side to avoid the throw. Three assassins fell as if pushed over by a stiff wind, small explosions blossoming in their chests and surprised looks competing with the agony writ on their faces.

Paul smiled at Jacky's handiwork, wondering if her marksmanship was a match for his. Cass cried out in rage as she brought the stock of her weapon crashing against the face of her assailant, the man's muted cry cut off as she followed up with a knee to his groin.

He mewled on the dusty ground for the 3 seconds before Cass ended him with a blast to the back of his head.

As sudden as the attack began, it was over, half a dozen of the feared Legion assassins lying dead in the courtyard. Remembering Gannon, Paul rushed over to the hapless man and found him still clinging to life.

"Oh shit, you are one lucky son of a bitch."

"I have a spear sticking out of my chest, I think you need to re-evaluate what 'lucky' means." Arcade coughed, blood dribbling from his lips.

"It penetrated just beneath your heart and right between your lungs. If I'm careful, I can get this spear out without fucking you up too badly."

"Oh shit, don't let him do it. Get a molerat to gnaw it off or something."

"Shut up, asshole." Paul gestured for Cass and Jacky to help, "I need you girls to brace the spear so I can cut off the shaft. Then we'll pull it the rest of the way out through his back. As soon as it's out, I'll need you to plug the hole however you can until we can get some stimpacks into him."

Carefully, they got into position as the courier pulled one of his souvenirs from the Sierra Madre… a gleaming cosmic knife.

Arcade groaned as Paul's blade sheared through the tough wood of the spear shaft with a single blow, the sharp blade living up to its reputation. He grasped the spearhead carefully and braced himself against the wounded man's back, the girls nodding in readiness at his questioning look. The courier heaved and managed to yank the weapon out through his back, though a ghastly torrent of blood flooded from his wounds.

Arcade went pale almost instantly, his lips taking on a blue tinge as his lifeblood flowed. The girls slapped hands already sticky with blood in an attempt to stymie the flow even as the courier dumped the contents of his travelling case on the dusty ground. He snatched up a stimpack and wasted no time stabbing it into his thigh, leaving it to quiver in his leg as he rooted through the pile for another.

He repeated the action 3 more times, only slowing long enough to ensure that the blood flow was finally slowing down… hopefully due to the stimpacks closing the wounds and not because Arcade was running out of blood.

"Need…Transfusion." Arcade chattered, his body shivering uncontrollably as if seized by a sudden chill despite the day's heat.

"The tower?" Cass asked, referring to one of the few interior spaces in the old fort, where the Followers had kept some of their supplies.

Arcade managed a weak nod and Cass rushed off to find the needed blood packs, her desperation lending her limbs the needed alacrity.

"See, that wasn't so bad, was it?" Paul quipped, as he gripped Arcade's hand as if he could compel him to cling to life by proxy.

"You… are such a shit." Arcade managed just before he sagged forward into the Courier's chest.

"Hurry Cass!" He shouted, feeling for a pulse along the man's neck.

It was weak and thready, barely registering to his questing fingertips.

"Aw crap, I don't know your blood type!" Paul wailed.

"Adjutant, examine sample, determine blood phenology and type." Jacky ordered, as she rubbed blood onto some Terran device.

"Analyzing."

"Blood analysis complete; human blood, type A+. Dangerous levels of coagulant and…"

"That's enough for now adjutant." Jacky interrupted.

As luck would have it, the Followers had plenty of the needed blood type, as Cass emerged from the tower with two of each type and the word that there was plenty more of the A+.

They had taken Arcade inside once he appeared to be somewhat stable, judging that the man had been beaten rather badly just before they arrived. The assassins had been sure that the bruises would not be visible before their trap could be sprung, a rushed job that indicated that they had merely adapted to them fortuitously arriving at Freeside.

"Damn Legion." Paul muttered, "This policy House has of not securing Freeside with his Securitrons has to stop."

"For the time being, we just have to hope that the King is open to stepping up and effectively putting the people here under martial law. They've suffered so much already… it may be a hard sell." Cass murmured in a rare display of empathy.

Jacky joined them, walking into the room they had claimed while drying her hands.

"He's resting now, gave him 3 units of blood and a cocktail of antibiotics and painkillers. He'll be in no condition to go anywhere for some time."

Paul shook his head, "I was hoping to have his help with this. He is well regarded around here and putting him alongside the King would go a long way toward calming the people down."

"Jacky?" Paul continued after a pause for thought, "I hesitate to ask this of you, but of us all, you are the best suited for stealth."

"You want me to infiltrate the Legion camp and gain access to the bunker."

Paul nodded and held up the platinum chip, "No heroics. Just get in, insert the chip, and get out. Not sight-seeing or stopping for souvenirs."

Jacky nodded and took the chip, carefully sliding the valuable item into her utility pouch, "I'll head out right away. I'll contact you on frequency 99.8 when it's done."

"Good luck, ghost." He forced a smile for her sake.

She smiled back at the title, and patted Cass on the shoulder before vanishing in a cascade of teal light. The door squeaked on rusted hinges as the invisible operative departed.

"It won't take her long to get there. We need to get a move on and see the King and get to the Lucky 38 in time for Jacky to do her thing."

"We can't leave Arcade like this." Cass realized, her ire beginning to rise at the idea of being parted from Maxson.

"It won't be for long. I'll ask the King to send some boys over here to look after him. We'll head to the Lucky 38 together." He assured her.

"You'd fuckin better."

It was almost laughably easy for her to ease her way through the Legion camp, regardless of the number of warriors that kept a watchful eye over the headquarters of their exalted leader. She even saw the man himself, the mighty Caesar. Jacky was unimpressed by the physical specimen and had to remind herself that this man had a keen and strategic mind and had successfully forged one of the greatest military forces on the planet.

She kept the courier's words at the forefront of her mind, resisting the urge to meddle with the Legion even as she ghosted among them like a phantom. Despite their vigilance, their mortal eyes were no match for her skill or the Terran technology that so effectively cloaked her from detection.

The adjutant, after interfacing with 'Yes Man' had downloaded the location of Mr. House's bunker to her oculus, the information providing a glowing waypoint to her scanner. She paused as a troop of high ranking legionaires stalked past, again resisting the urge to intervene at the sight of a quartet of female slaves following behind them.

The women were a wretched lot, wreathed in rags which did little to shield their flesh from the howling wind and chilly nights. Two were heavy with child and struggled with their burdens which were no lighter than the others. She gritted her teeth and tried to still the hammering of her heart as they shuffled past, their grunts and moans tugging at her soul.

The moment passed and she moved on, refocusing her mind to the task at hand. Ironically, the waypoint pointed to a building with an array of antennas and weather observation equipment, making it stand out even among the few other pre-war structures in the area.

She slipped inside quietly and found that she wasn't alone, though the few Legion soldiers stationed here didn't seem to know or care that a bunker lie beneath their feet. They chatted amiably with one another and Jacky listened in for a time while she conjured a plan to access the lower levels. The two terminals in the room were no help, as both were broken, so she continued to silently stalk the room as the Legion men continued speaking, completely oblivious to her presence.

Along a wall, a small mechanical device was mounted and the waypoint on her oculus pointed to a spot almost directly beneath it. There was no way she could activate the device without alerting the Legion men, so she had to dispose of the three without attracting any notice.

Honing her focus to a razor edge, she moved with deliberate care behind one of the men. She slid a blackened blade from her right boot and hefted it lightly in her hand as she considered the man standing before her. His armor was thick and covered much of his heavily muscled frame, so she narrowed in on a gap between the chest piece and his thick leather belt.

Holding her breath, Jacky slid her knife with perfect precision, the razor sharp point parting flesh with ridiculous ease and sliding into his right kidney.

She gave the blade a slight twist, the pain of the strike momentarily paralyzing the hapless trooper. His companions noted his distress and rushed forward to assist their ailing comrade. She withdrew her blade and gave him a gentle push into their arms, looking to them as if he had merely become ill and fallen.

One of his comrades was mid-sentence when a bright red gout of blood erupted from his open mouth, the words drowned out by the thick crimson fluid. The last of the trio lurched back in surprise and opened his mouth to sound and alarm when a sudden explosion of agony made him hiss sharply in pain.

He couldn't understand what was happening, his lungs would not expand and he couldn't seem to draw in a breath, as if a vise had constricted around his torso. His sight dimmed as he collapsed to his knees, his head drooping. He had enough time to register the shock at the handle of a knife jutting from his chest before he lost the fight against the darkness which clawed up from the depths to claim him.

Jacky wiped the blood from her knife before returning it to its sheath, turning back toward the device and wasting no time in tapping the button. Unsurprisingly, a panel opened to reveal a staircase leading down. Jacky peered down into the revealed hallway and moved to block the door into the building before heading down the stairs.

He found her pacing nervously and muttering to herself after his trip to the see the King. Several of the King's boys accompanied him back and two immediately took to guarding the room where Arcade was resting while the others called out that they were going to search for supplies.

Cass frowned at him, her deep concern robbing her of the means of elucidating her thoughts. Offering her a reassuring smile, he walked forward and pulled her into his arms, holding her tightly for several moments before pulling away.

She took a deep breath, "This is getting out of hand."

"I know. I just hope that we get through this in one piece and can give thought to what happens next with us."

"I love you. You love me. We're going to stay together and have a good life. What more is there to say than that?" Cass replied, her tone making it clear that she saw no reason that it had to be more complicated than that.

His laugh was honest and warm, "You're absolutely right. Let's get this done."

"Lucky 38?"

"Yeah, though we can take out time getting there… I hadn't heard from Jacky yet."

So the lovers walked as if the weight of a future war didn't hang over them, as if they were merely out for a pleasant stroll in each other's company. The securitron guarding the gate scanned them briefly before immediately ushering them through to the Strip.

"Well, butter my butt and call me a biscuit! Howdy partner! I must say, you are in a heap of trouble!"

The courier groaned at the very familiar cowboy twang which issued from a securitron which had made a direct line for them as soon as they entered the Strip.

"Hello Victor. We're just on our way to see Mr. House."

"That's good to hear! I think I'll mosey on over there with you."

"That's alright, we know the way." The courier took Cass's arm and made to walk around the cowboy robot. He sighed again when the robot rolled to put himself in his path.

"Sorry partner, I didn't mean to imply that you had a choice in that. Mr. House is hoppin' mad at you and wants me to make sure you don't skip out of town before he sees you. You understand."

Before Paul could come up with a reasonable excuse, four more securitrons formed a cordon around the two, the air between them filling with menace as they raised their gun arms to point at them.

"Now, let's not get rowdy. We can do this nice and quiet, or you can get yerself into a heap of trouble. Either way, you are coming with me."

"Alright Victor, no need for theatrics. We'll go."

"Alrighty then! Let's get a move on!" The robot turned and led the way, the other securitrons maintaining their position around them as they walked. Paul walked slowly, causing the robots behind to constantly slow to avoid bumping into him. Victor rotated but continued moving toward the Lucky 38, his smirking cowboy 'face' unchanged despite the less than friendly voice that came out.

"You can mosey as slow as you like, but we got a schedule to keep. I can have my brothers here shoot out your legs and we can carry you, you low down snake!"

"Now Victor! There's no call for insults. I'm just a bit tired is all, been all across the Mojave doing Mr. Houses' work. We'll get there."

Victor merely grunted after a moment, as if pausing to confirm silently with Mr. House through some internal communication. He turned back around without a word and conceded to the Courier by slowing his pace.

Despite the minor victory, their progress to the bastion of Mr. House was inexorable. Maxson began to sweat, fearing that Jacky had run into trouble at the bunker.

The Strip was not busy this time of day, most people sleeping off the after effects of their revelry the evening before. But the 'early risers' were starting to emerge but studiously avoided the pair of strangers being escorted by the securitrons. More than a few gasped in recognition of the courier, his exploits around the Mojave and infamous reputation on the Strip itself lending speed to the normally oblivious tourists.

They arrived at the doors to the Lucky 38 too soon for Paul's liking, Cass's grip on his hand tightening as they strolled up the stairs leading to the main entrance. Victor turned about and silently commanded the escort to back off.

"Your beau is gonna have to cool her heels here partner. House wants you to come… alone."

Paul exchanged worried glances with Cass, "I don't feel comfortable leaving her alone out here, Victor."

"That don't matter one lick, partner. You're coming in, and she's not."

Paul turned to Cass and gently cradled her head in his hands. He gazed into her emerald eyes for a long moment before grazing his lips against hers. She clutched at him desperately, pulling him into a deeper kiss as if it was going to be their last. He sincerely hoped that it wouldn't prove to be true.

He let go reluctantly and nodded to Victor, doing an admirable job of keeping the fear and anger from showing in his expression.

The cool air was a stark contrast to the early afternoon heat, and he shivered uncomfortably in the cold, musty recycled air. Victor led the way to the elevator and motioned him inside, all pretense of patience abandoned.

He walked in and stood near the back, gripping the rails tightly as Victor followed him inside and the doors closed with a soft ding.

Strange… the ding seemed to echo in the small space, a double beep that Victor seemed to miss or simply take in his stride. Prodded by instinct, Paul glanced down at his pip-boy and felt a wave of profound relief ease the distemper of his previous anxiety.

Jacky had succeeded, the securitrons had been upgraded. He tapped the preset commands into his pip-boy surreptitiously, sending the signal to Yes Man to begin his work. At his next signal, if all went to plan, the entire security mainframe would be under his command.

She was bathed in the shadow of the pulsating mountain of flesh. Stroking it lovingly with her fingers, she could feel the organism growing within slow in its gestational throes. She held her breath as the walls of the thick fleshy sac vibrated beneath her fingers. Any moment now…

With a horrific tearing sound, the growing cyst ruptured, showering her with amniotic fluids. She reveled in the warmth and the salty tang of the life-sustaining liquid dribbling in thick rivulets down her nude body. She gazed up in something approaching rapture as the newest hatchery clawed at the mauve sky. Already, larvae began to crawl from its birth canals, their slime covered carapaces rubbing against her legs as they slithered toward the creep growing from beneath the newest structure.

She smiled as she strolled out from beneath the hatchery, a bloated shadow temporarily blocking out the light of the setting sun as the overlord it belonged to floated serenely past. She sniffed at the scent of human misery, bodies stacked like cord wood in regular intervals all around the hatchery.

The Broodmother gazed out over the remains of the Legion settlement, the few buildings which still stood looking so forlorn in the midst of the devastation.

Her losses while taking this town were more than acceptable, the dog-like zerglings having drawn the Legion formation's attention long enough for her roaches to burst up beneath them. It was at that point that the conflict ceased to be a battle and became a slaughter.

She joined her thralls, the obsequious Braun, the reluctant Usanagi and the openly hostile Enclave commander.

"My queen, I have calculated that the Legion dead here will provide sufficient biomass to increase the size of the swarm by 18%." Braun cackled, his tenuous grip on sanity becoming shakier by the day.

Shivarra turned to Usanagi, tilting her head quizzically at the doctor.

"I can confirm his findings. Once the hive structure have completed their growth and begin producing, we will be able to generate 112 more zerglings, 32 hydralisks, 28 roaches and 12 mutalisks. We have received no new shipments of vespene however." The doctor stated somewhat flatly, yet failing to hide the despair from her voice.

"Oh? And why is that, dear commander?"

The man stiffened at being addressed and nearly growled in answer, "We've expanded faster than our capability to produce the vespene analog. Our resources are stretched to the limit as it is. We will need a new source of energy if we are to continue at this rate."

"Hoover Dam." She whispered, just loud enough for the others to hear.

"Yes… the dam will provide all the power we need to put vespene into full production. The NCR and Legion are both poised to fight over it, and by all reports, at least from the Legion captives we've questioned, Caesar is going to make his move very soon."

"The toll of blood from that conflict will be a treasure of biomass." Braun excitedly put in, "Combined with the number of souls in the city and surrounding areas… the swarm can grow enough to threaten the NCR itself."

Shivarra tapped a finger against her chin in thought, an affectation she had seen other terrans perform, "We must be cautious, my children. Though we are strong, there is still enough strength in our enemies to deny us our prize. Pursue those refugees that fled to the north and south, subsume their biomass and increase our numbers."

"What of those that fled west? They would carry warning to Caesar's main force."

Her eyes glowed with malice as she regarded the Commander, whose tone in asking that question was not to her liking.

"My dear Commander, I wouldn't worry about that at all. What I would worry about, is how one should show the proper deference to one's queen."

The man stiffened as his zerg biology rebelled in his body, setting his nerves alight with acid. His reality became a river of agony, as if he had been tossed into a spawning pool and was being digested too slowly to overcome his regeneration.

The pain lapsed and he found himself face down in the creep, blood mixed in with his drool which pooled around his head. His mouth felt swollen and pain radiated from his mouth.

He recoiled from the sudden touch on his shoulder, relaxing only slightly when he saw that it was Usanagi.

"He's bit off his own tongue." He heard her report, his mind still fuzzy from the torture.

"It will grow back. Besides, his inability to speak and infuriate me with his impertinence will only aid him in the long run."

At a curt gesture, Braun lurched forward, eager to please his beloved queen.

"Braun, tell the dear Commander here why the hundreds of refugees running to join with Caesar's army is a good thing."

A light came into the scientist's eyes as he grinned down at the prone Enclave officer. The single phrase oozing from the man's foul lips telling the Colonel everything he needed to know.

"Hive spores."

A/N: I seem to have gotten over my brief stint of writer's block over the last holiday season and am now charged up enough to finish up this story. According to my outline, I have approximately 5 Chapters remaining in order to finish telling my story. Since I am a fan of the End game title cards from the Fallout Series, I will be doing that here as well as a sort of epilogue.

I will try to remember the important characters and provide a sort of summary as to what happens to them. Since it is a thing now to have end of credit scenes for movies, I'll also being doing one last scene after that.

Though that might imply a sequel or something, there will not be a sequel. I have my Harry Potter/Fallout 4 fic to finish and another project that I am doing research on/drafting a rough outline for.

Thanks to everyone who is sticking it out despite my long absence.