Chapter 49: Stage
Mojave Wasteland
"Wake up! Piece of junk. GET UP!" Lars hollered angrily as he slammed his fist down on the husk of his once perky lieutenant. Securitrons were among the most advanced robots along the west coast, and certainly some of the most advanced Lars had ever seen. Still, they were technically all machines, and Lars had a solution for solving problems with those. It mattered little if it was a toaster or a five hundred pound weapons platform; percussive maintenance was always the answer.
After the thirtieth good smack, the screen started to buzz with some activity.
"Yes-man, you there? Pick up, dammit! Stop ignoring me!" Lars growled as the monitor started to resubmit to its shape. However, the image that came up was not the cartoon friendly smile that Lars was usually accustomed to seeing. In Yes-man's place was…
"Ignore? My old associate, you now have my full and undivided attention."
Lars fell back, scrambling away from the securitron as it slowly managed to right itself off the ground. On the screen was a face, an image that Lars had never, ever expected to see again for the rest of his life.
"House?"
"In the fiber-optics," the robot replied.
"… I killed you," Lars stated, still numb from the shock.
"Left me for dead, should my information be correct. And it always is correct," House continued, drolly.
"…You're dead."
"By now, absolutely. Fortunately, I had installed a contingency for just such an occasion. In the not impossible event of my biological demise, I procured a specialized West-Tek experimental mainframe. I then proceeded to digitize my personality and attributes whilst in the middle of my nuclear-induced coma. So, in layman's terms, you are talking to a ghost," House laughed.
Lars pointed his grenade launcher right at the screen. "Bring Yes-man back now, House," he growled.
"Oh, your lackey's systems and operational codes are intact. All I managed to do was lock him out of my mainframe. New Vegas's power grid, functionalities, transportation services, and of course, its defenses are now back under my control."
"Son of a bitch! Do you have any idea what's coming for us?" Lars balked, incredulously.
"Foreign invasion? Truth be told, I was expecting something closer to Latin American post-nuclear nationals, or perhaps an infiltration by some of my ex-colleagues from Switzerland or Boston. But the Chinese do present quite the interesting… throwback, I suppose," the ghost chuckled lightly.
"Nonetheless, if you so desire an explanation as to what has just transpired, I suppose it would be reasonable to tell you. I'm taking back my property, Perez. The securitrons are now under my command. And while the thought of sending hundreds of heavy weapons platforms to annihilate you and your allies fills me with something that could possibly pass for joy were I still human, I've elected to "remove them from the board." My securitrons are safely holed back up in Fortification Hill, and will not allow any outside access until I send forward the green light," the ghost gloated.
"People will die," Lars gritted.
"Everyone dies, Perez. Humans, super mutants and ghouls eventually, and even robots will all cease their mortal coil. All, of course, except me."
"…What do you want?" Lars growled.
"Oh, come now. Even you should be able to piece together what I would want. I want you gone, Perez. Far and away from my city. I shall then resume my rightful place as the true leader of New Vegas, and repulse the invasion."
"Go straight back to hell," Lars spat.
"Of course, I'm more then willing to give you a shot, of course. There is no room in my future for the Brotherhood, Rangers, Boomers, and whatever other groups you've cobbled together for this "coalition." And, in the interest of sportsmanship, I'll give you back your sycophant and some… I suppose twenty of my securitron platforms. Farewell, my backbiting Iago! I have a tower to purge and disinfect."
And with that, the screen went blank. The securitron stood there for a moment, and then the screen fizzled back to life, the smiling façade returning.
"Hey, boss! Sorry I was out for a little! All systems reading green. Although, I can't seem to access the Lucky 38 mainframe. Not to worry, boss! I'm sure it's temporary!"
Lars just stood there, letting the conversation sink in as he wonder just what the hell had just happened. Then, an idea started to dawn on him
"Yes-man? Would it be possible for you to help me reach Black Mountain?"
"Sure thing, boss! May I ask what the occasion is?" Yes-man happily chirped.
"I'm going to need to make a phone call. Real personal. And I absolutely want to make sure no one is listening in, understand?"
"No problemo, sir! Your wish is my command!"
Lars sighed. "My wish? I have I feeling I'll just be trading one nightmare for another."
Big MT
"…He basically taught me the fundamentals of everything I know," Arcade explained as he sat back in the lounge. Raul listened quietly, trying to support him as best he could.
"…Doc Henry, he was a good man. Won't be remembered for any of it. All he got was an unmarked grave by the weather station," Arcade sighed.
Raul sniffed. "More then most, these days."
Arcade nodded. "Can't argue with that."
Cass yawned. "Where's the whiskey?"
Raul pointed. "In the fridge."
As Cass strolled past the two mourners, both then did a double take as the caravaneer helped herself to the fridge.
"…Cass?" Arcade began.
"There's no fucking whiskey," Cass growled.
"You're up!" Raul exclaimed, standing to his feet.
True to form, there standing before him wearing nothing but a paper gown was the Rose of Sharon Cassidy, looking as if she had just woken from one of her hangovers rather then having just survived being beaten to near death.
"Quick, Cass, how many fingers am I holding up?" Arcade began, holding up three fingers.
"Dunno. How many am I?" Cass responded, holding up one.
"You're back!" Arcade exclaimed, throwing a hug around the caravaneer. Raul let out a cheer, and the two cyberdogs on the porch both stared barking.
As Arcade broke the hug, his hands felt something brush the palm of his hand. Feeling her back, he felt something running along Cass's spine.
"What's this?" Arcade asked as he kept running his hands on Cass's back.
"If you keep this up, Arcade, I'm seriously going to have to call your "confirmed bachelor" status into question," Cass responded.
As Arcade drew back, Cass turned her body away from the two, allowing them both a good view of her ass, and more importantly, the long black nerve-like apparatus running along her spine.
"Doc Mobius says this is a prototype medical apparatus whatever that he was never able to get off the ground. Beats the heck out of the trauma override harness thingy I heard you and him talk about. Truth be told," Cass sighed as she rolled her shoulders and cracked her neck, "I haven't felt this good in years. I feel like I'm in my twenties again!"
"So, uh, what does that thing do?" Raul asked.
"According to Mobius, it releases a plasma solution directly into the cellular membranes of the nervous system. Using artificial microbes, it compensates any internal trauma located throughout the body tissue, compensating and inoculating any issues that the host body deems necessary to fix."
"…Que?"
"Nanomachines, son!" Cass barked.
"Attention, attention! Is this thing on? Oh, hello Arcade and company! I take it you've finally reunited with Cass, restored to top condition! How do you like my handiwork?" Mobius asked over the intercom.
"Feels great, Moby!" Cass yelled up to the speaker. "Feels like I've got enough energy to fuck up the little bitch who locked me in the damn gurney, and still have enough in reserve to party for a whole week!" she grinned.
"I see! Well," he paused to, uh, "clear his throat" and then continued. "I do feel that I should warn you of some, well, critical drawbacks in the design's current iteration."
The three friends all paused, staring up at the intercom while Mobius tried to think of a way to best explain the "catch" that he hadn't figured out to undermine.
"Well, the device is something of a biophage. To sustain its functionality, which I remind you is necessary to nurse you back to health, it needs to draw its energy from a living organism. Indeed, it uses its host to power itself."
"So, you're telling us that you fixed up Cass by… putting a giant artificial leech on her back?" Arcade asked.
"That is not… an inaccurate assessment," Mobius confessed. There was some commotion on the other side of the line, and Mobius could make out Arcade and Raul trying to calm Cass down while she screamed "get it off me, get it off me." At any rate, it seemed fair to attempt to quell the situation.
"Please, Cassidy! Do understand that, while your healing has progressed rapidly, your body is still not stable enough to cope with an early uncoupling!"
"GET THIS OFF ME, YOU QUACK!"
"Miss Cassidy, I assure you I know what I'm doing. Usually. In any case, the apparatus should not prove fatal towards you, and I've indeed programmed it to detach itself from your body once it has determined you've made an adequate recovery. So long as you don't sustain any traumatic injuries while it remains on your person, there is little to fear. At worst, perhaps five years of your natural lifespan have been sacrificed. A bargain, if you were to consult with me!"
Cass was left fuming in the middle of the room, still trying to determine whether or not she should be furious or grateful for this intervention. "…I think I'm done. Give me my clothing back, I'm heading out."
Arcade rubbed the back of his head. "Well, Cass, there is kind of a problem with that. See, your clothes are currently back at the Followers outpost. We didn't bring them with."
"Well fine. Just teleport back and pick them up for me," Cass responded.
Now Raul started to pace a little nervously. "…Gannon says that the little tele-thingy only goes one-way, so if you want them back, you'll have to…" he stopped as he saw Cass begin glowering at him. She then held out her hand. "Poncho. Give me."
"I'm afraid I can't allow you to leave just yet," Mobius began again.
"What now?" Arcade sighed, now starting to feel a little annoyed with the brain-bot as well.
"I have issued a security lock-down on the premises due to recent… events," Mobius tried to explain.
"Yes, the intruders were either driven out or dead. Err, sorry for your loss again, Arcade," Raul stated, apologetically.
"Yes, well… apparently the ones who fled brought over a few friends," Mobius explained.
"Well then, turn up the pacification field to maximum. It can drive out some gang, right?" Arcade stated.
"…I don't think the field was designed to repulse something like this," Mobius explained, before beaming down from the intercom a holographic recreation of the Big MT, with several hundred dots camping out just outside the eastern rim of the crater.
"…Mierda…"
Glorious Cause HQ
Bullhead City. Ten years before the first shots were fired at Hoover Dam, this Arizona town had been General Kimball's introduction to the NCR public, laying waste to the tribals as he claimed their ancestral homes for the Republic. It had been the southernmost stronghold of the NCR in their war against the Legion. Thanks to Moore, however, it had been abandoned shortly after the Second Battle of Hoover Dam. It was the perfect headquarters for the Glorious Cause.
Zhang was making herself at home in what had been the command building of a fort that had been evacuated due to "drills" Moore had ordered back home. As she waited for several reports to be delivered, she passed the time rolling out some of her "medicinal" from back home. It calmed her nerves and eased her stress. Jiasheng always seemed to turn his nose up at her "hobby," but Zhang was no mere base addict. She only enjoyed herself when she was soaking in her tub. Or after a training session. Or after a bothersome meeting. Or before bed. Or after she woke up. Or when Ziyi was talking too much. Or when…
Her time to relax was interrupted when Rumali entered the office, hands clasped together in a gesture of respect. Zhang acknowledged the guru by placing her medicinal aside, and tried not to look too annoyed.
"Rumali, what brings you here?"
"…Chang was in the middle of organizing your forces after Jiasheng left with his contingent, and I figured it would only be appropriate to deliver you this news personally," Rumali began. "Our intelligence group has just received some word back from Shi-town. Your administrator is dead, and the NCR is besieging the city."
Rumali had been expecting surprise, shock, maybe even anger and rage. Instead, Zhang sat at the desk, immovable. "…And?"
"You aren't angry?" Rumali asked, venturing a question.
"I haven't decided yet. I need details. What happened to Kaito?"
The rag-wearing man then elaborated. "Apparently, this "Kaito" was killed in his sleep, allegedly by a woman he had pressed into service for a… "harem" I believe."
Zhang snorted. "Pig. He tried the same to me the first I met him. Should've aimed my knife a little lower. So why is the NCR attacking, then?"
"After Kaito had been killed, there appeared to have been a disagreement between the original Shi and your security and mercenaries. The Shi locked down the Steel Palace, and in retaliation, the Yakuza released the Diyu prisoners."
"A turf war?" Zhang exclaimed, this time anger swelling in her voice. "I elevate those savages and deserters, and they repay me with a turf war?"
"After multiple incidences of violence against the people, several citizens appeared to have petitioned the NCR to establish a peacekeeping force to bring the fighting to a close. Apparently a "General Moore" is leading the operation."
"Cassie Moore? She is a valuable ally to the Glorious Cause, and an effective military officer. There is little doubt that she will accomplish her mission without delay," Zhang replied.
"Reports indicate that she has ordered artillery, in addition to her heavy weapons battalion."
Zhang stared at the guru, processing the information as he brought it to her. "Are you telling me that… General Moore… my ally and …trusted confidant… intends to level my city to the ground…" Zhang slowly replied.
"…It would appear… to be the reasonable response," Rumali answered cautiously.
Zhang glared daggers into the guru, her face unreadable. Rumali felt his throat go dry and the back of his scant hairs stand on end. Zhang then slowly closed her eyes, exhaled, and then shrugged. "Oh well, I suppose there's little I can do about that."
"Madame?" Rumali spoke up, confused.
"Just as well, I suppose. I never liked governing that city. All I ever cared for was the proximity to Vegas that it afforded me. I'll miss my bed and bath, and I suppose the Grand Ring, but all those are replaceable."
"But… your people…" Rumali spoke before he stopped himself.
"My soldiers did the job they were paid to do, no more. And the original Shi were listless tinkerers before I arrived. To say nothing of the Yakuza, whom I'm sure Moore will put down like the dogs they are.
"And the citizens?"
"What about them?" Zhang said, dismissively. "Living refuse. Vagrants. Deviants. Nothing but bottomless mouths to feed demanding to be coddled. Ziyi spoiled them with their accommodations, and now they'll have NCR martial law if they aren't satisfied with my new administration," she laughed.
"I… see…" Rumali replied, neutrally. "I had expected you to be a little more… upset by these recent turns of events."
"Oh, the only one who would be upset by any of this would've been Ziyi. She loved those deviants. I shudder to think of what would have transpired had I left her in charge of the city in my absence as I had originally intended. No doubt she would attempt to bring even more shame to her family's honor," Zhang continued to laugh.
"Yes, in addition to the treason, I suppose," Rumali let out, before he could stop himself.
Zhang eyed the guru dangerously. Subtly, she motion for the guru to approach her. Reluctantly, the yogi complied. "I figured you wouldn't have bought that. Truth is, I knew she wouldn't willingly betray me, either. I just fed Jiasheng that treason line so I could go ahead and do him a favor he'll never thank me for."
"…I understand," Rumali stated, flatly and without judgment.
"…I hate weakness, Rumali. I can't stand the sight of it," Zhang continued, unabated. "That little deviant allowed Lars to escape my grasp. By allowing his allies to escape and by failing to stop him from making his getaway. Jiasheng would have argued that the situation was out of her control, but I cannot bring myself to agree. Ziyi was simply weak. She always has been." Zhang leaned back. "Jiasheng is still young enough. He'll have other children."
"…Understood, Madame," Rumali replied as he turned to walk away.
"…You can see her, can't you?" Zhang interrupted.
Rumali said nothing.
"…Show me," Zhang ordered, rising to her feet.
Rumali just stood there, before motioning Zhang to join him. Zhang walked past the desk, stood right behind Rumali, and placed her hand against his back. Zhang felt her eyes roll back into her head as the images crashed though her mind, imprinting themselves against her psyche. As they did, Zhang felt a great many things. Fear. Sadness. Desperation. Hope. And finally, despair. Then she found her old friend.
As Zhang snapped back to reality, she heard Rumali gasp. Bracing himself on his knees, Rumali then hurriedly rushed out the door. "Madame, I… I must…" was all he could get out before the shocked guru could stumble out the doorway, etiquette and manners be damned.
Zhang thought over what she had just seen, feeling the emotions start to slowly bubble up. After all this time, she finally knew what had become of her friend. Now, alone in this office, she was finally free to permit herself to allow her true feelings to manifest. Zhang laughed.
Sierra Madre AKA New Vegas Maximum Security Prison
"…And give no heed to those who walk eagerly alongside the path of destruction. For thine only desires to burn in the fires of recreation. Cull the meek, and protect the Brothers who know of the true path. Rejoice, for judgment hath come again…"
The massive steel vault door creaked open. His well-worn eyes blinked as he brought up his frail arm to shield him from the light. As he adjusted, he peered a glare towards his… warden.
The girl, clad in light armor while carrying a baton at her side, looked upon her old master with disgust and… agitation. Her lips curled up as she dragged a primitive-looking rotary device alongside her. Not the food trolley, as she usually brought.
"…Am I not on good behavior?" the old man snarled. "Do I not deserve my biscuit?" not bothering to hide his contempt for the woman, or the one she answered for.
The woman gritted her teeth, slamming the device down at his feet before turning back to stand in the doorway, folding her arms as she waited for him to use the device.
Cautiously, and not taking his eyes off the woman, the old man reached down to pick up the rotary phone. Lifting the phone from its resting place, he brought it to his ear.
"Listen up, geezer. I am at my whit's end here and you are the absolute LAST person I really feel like dealing with. So here's the rub, you do me a solid, and I turn you loose. I lead you out of the Sierra Madre, take off that bomb collar, and give you twenty-four hours to vacate the FUCK out of my country. And when you're gone, STAY GONE, otherwise the deal is null and void should I ever lay my eyes on your sorry ass ever again. Christine called me an idiot for even proposing the idea, and I'm not in mind to disagree with her. NO negotiations or conditions. So, do we have an understanding?"
Elijah kept his eyes on his jailer, and allowed a wide grin to creep across his face. "I think we can come to an agreement…"
NCR MOST WANTED PROFILE
Name: Father Elijah (Surname unknown)
Aliases: N/A
Affiliations: Brotherhood of Steel (former)
Age: Early seventies
Status: MIA
Bounty: 500,000 NCR dollars (Alive)
A rogue Brotherhood of Steel Elder, Father Elijah was the former acting Elder of the Mojave Chapter. Following the disastrous defense of Helios One, reports seem to indicate that Elijah had deserted from his former comrades in arms. The BoS has ordered Elijah to be eliminated on sight, and reports indicate that they have dispatched assassins to silence their old leader. NCR Command, however, would prefer he be captured alive and turned over to NCR authorities, as the man himself is considered to be a significant authority towards the secrets of Old World technology. Acting alone, he is not considered to be a major personal threat.
