Due to numerous failures involving the Big Mountain Research and Development Center, Project Eden is now under the jurisdiction of the Federal Government. As of October 22, 2076, all resources and personnel involved in Project Eden are to be relocated to the Cheyenne Mountain Complex, effective immediately. Testing for Project Eden is to be continued under the supervision of General Douglas, along with elements of the 112th Infantry Division. In the case that the defenses of the Cheyenne Mountain Complex are breached, the highest ranking official is to initiate Protocol Monatuk-293. All surviving personnel are to proceed to designated shelters and assist outside help in retaking the facility.
God Bless America.
Signed, Gregory Brunster
Director of Defense Advanced Research Projects Agency
"You see that you and I are of a different stripe, don't you? We don't have to dream that we're important. We simply are."
-Mr House
New Vegas, 9 months after Second Battle of Hoover Dam
As the Sun set on the Mojave Desert, New Vegas awoke from its slumber. WIth every passing hour, the denizens of the Strip came out to fulfill their "needs". Tourists stumbled about drunkenly, while fools parted with their hard-earned caps. To keep the debauchery under control, hulking Securitrons stood guard at every intersection, weapons ready to be drawn at a moment's notice. Overall, a fairly normal night on the Strip of New Vegas: rambunctious, chaotic, and loud.
In contrast, the top chambers of the Lucky 38 were as quiet as a tomb, the only sounds being that of the computer terminals and the life support system, humming along as they had more than two centuries ago. To the man inside the system, he wouldn't have had it any other way. After all, few of his competitors held the sway he currently had, let alone were even alive to witness it. It was a shame, really. Few had actually seen what was to come in the final days, and fewer still had escaped from the Enclave Oil Rig a few decades ago. In effect, he was one of the last remnants of the so-called "Old World".
That pleasant thought immediately folded to the reports and data he was currently reading.
'Securitrons in Sector 5B have found some Jackals? They should be more than capable of dealing with such rabble. Casino profits are up 22% from last month. It's not enough to stem the losses from a few months ago, but it will do for now. Hmm… President Kimball has been thrown out of office. Predictable, yet pleasant. The doves should have no trouble taking control of Congress in the next election, but I suppose a new network of lobbyists will be needed to keep them in line. No news from my protégé… expected yet disappointing. I suppose I won't be seeing her for a few more weeks until she emer- huh, what's this?'
Interrupted from his analyses, Mr. House noticed the shrieking alarm of the message notification system he had. Back before the war, it had constantly been in use, updating him on the status of rival companies, Vegas's defensive measures, government facilities across the United States, and more.
With World War 3, it had fallen silent for over two-hundred and sixty years. Silent… until now apparently. The question now was who could it be? It was highly unlikely that a rival company could have developed something new, with the current state of the world in mind, and the alerts for Vegas's defenses had been deactivated when he first woke up.
Isolating the signal, Mr. House raised an eye-brow at what the display was reading.
'The Cheyenne Mountain Complex? And a distress signal as well? Well, that's a surprise to be sure.'
He had presumed that the complex had been leveled into submission, and that the remains of the complex would be bathed in lethal amounts of radiation for hundreds of years to come. Apparently not. For whatever reason, the complex had been able to withstand the War, and was currently broadcasting a distress signal that was two-hundred and more years too late.
In short, it was a wildcard on the delicate stage of what was once the most powerful nation on the planet. A wildcard… that could be harnessed for the benefit of mankind.
With a nod, so-called "top secret" files involving projects in the Complex were displayed to Mr. House.
'Yes… I can work with this. A few of these projects, if they were completed, could give me new opportunities. At the very least, I can gain access to the US Air Force Intranet System.'
Still, to get there, one would have to cross the Hoover Dam and march east to reach the facility.
With the Legion currently devolving into glorified raiders, it would be suicide for any normal man to cross into Legion territory and remain unscathed.
Then again, Mr. House was not an ordinary man in the slightest. With a few mental commands, antennas atop the Lucky 38 sent out low-frequency radio signals that swept across the Mojave...
/
[Powering up…]
/{Activation code received}/
[Analyzing…]
/{Activation code approved}/
/{Directives received}/
[Analyzing…]
/{Primary Directive: Proceed to Location: Mt. Cheyenne and Secure all materials designated: Useful}/
/{Secondary Directive: Eliminate all opposition to Primary Directive.}/
[Primary Weapons enabled…]
[Secondary Weapons enabled…]
/{Rule of Engagement: Designation: Civilians are not to be harmed unless fired upon. Designation: Legion, Designation: Wildlife, Designation: Raiders are to be terminated }/ …
/
The Mojave was a violent and chaotic place, no question about it. For every day that passed, several more souls would pass on, whether or not they were innocent or guilty. However, for all of the violence and chaos that erupted, there were unwritten rules, followed by everyone.
People didn't approach Boomer territory, lest they wanted to be blown to pieces.
People didn't wander into the vaults, lest they wanted to never be seen again.
People didn't visit the South Vegas ruins, lest they wanted to be set upon by the former Fiends.
All of this had been established long ago. However, whispers of a new rule had emerged almost immediately after the battle: Never approach what was once the Legion Fort.
It was said that for several days, flames emanating from the Fort could be seen all the way from New Vegas. Those who approached the main gates would be greeted to the sight of charred skeletons draped in crimson football gear and shoulder plates, still fighting a war that they had lost before it had even started.
The recently placed signs yelling TRESPASSERS WILL BE SHOT and the surrounding ash piles sealed the image: the Legion Fort belonged to the Ghost Man of Vegas.
As such, there were no witnesses to what happened over the next five minutes.
With a shudder, the steel blast doors of the bunker creaked open. Alarms started to blare out, and from the bunker, an army surfaced. An army that for all of its faults, possessed something that no other organization in the wasteland had; a lack of humanity. In every battle, they would never fear, they would never rout, and they would carry out their commands, with no hesitation. With caricatures of long-dead soldiers displayed on the screens, two-thousand five hundred Mark 2 Securitrons rolled out of the bunker and headed out East under the cover of darkness.
AN: I originally was going to use Big Mountain and the Brains as the people who made the portal. After looking over it, I decided on the Cheyenne Mountain Complex for a few reasons. One, too many Fallout fanfics (in general) use Big Mountain as the start of the crossover fic. Second, it gives a more feasible way for the hundreds of Securitrons to be moved to Remnant as Big Mountain currently has all of its entrances blocked by rubble (*stares intently at Elijah*). Lastly, for something as big as a new sanctuary from the apocalypse, I really doubt that the Enclave would give Big Mountain jurisdiction over this project due to the… less than stellar performances of Big MT. (Cazadores, Trauma Harnesses, the general disregard to safety procedures, etc..)
With that out of the way, I have to thank Buried in Ash, the author of Dust in the Wind, for encouraging me to deliver on this story.