Chapter Summary: The companions travel to Camp Forlorn Hope to get some assistance for Bitter Springs, but find that the conditions there are even more dire.

Chapter 15: Hopeless

Beth spoke to Captain Giles and she confirmed that Bitter Springs was in desperate need of reinforcements, although the Legion attack the previous day had already made that glaringly obvious. The companions headed south to Camp Forlorn Hope to see if they could spare some soldiers.

After talking with Major Polatli and others there, though, they learned that it was in even worse shape than Bitter Springs. In addition to being undermanned, they were short of basically any supplies one could think of: food, medicine, armor, and even ammunition. Only the clean stream flowing through the camp saved them from also being short of water.

Clearing the Legion out of Nelson a few weeks ago had only taken a small amount of pressure off. Raiding parties were still frequent and most of the soldiers seemed to think it was only a matter of time before the Legion wiped them all out for good. Being this close to the front lines, Boone couldn't believe that the NCR had let things get this bad here. How could they possibly expect to hold back the Legion, let alone defeat them, without adequately feeding and equipping their army?

Beth spent the afternoon helping the NCR's doctor tend to some wounded soldiers. Boone took a young trooper out to track down some missing supplies; they returned as night fell, sweaty and dirty. The trooper thanked him for his help and left him to deliver the supplies they had recovered.

The sniper found the Courier sitting outside the medical tent with a man, both in bloodied clothes, drinking from bottles of Sunset Sarsaparilla. As he walked up, she smiled wearily. "Hey, Boone. This is Doctor Richards," she said, pointing her thumb toward the tired looking man next to her. "He's the NCR army doctor stationed here. Alex, this is Craig Boone. He was with-"

"First Recon," the doctor interrupted. "Good to see ya, Boone."

"Same, Doc," the sniper greeted.

"I see you two know each other," Beth said.

"Richards was one of the medics at the Battle of Hoover Dam. Patched up some buddies of mine."

The doctor nodded and said, "Hey, thanks for bringing your doctor friend here along."

Beth spoke up, "I told you, I'm not a doctor."
"Close enough. I would have been up to my neck in there without you."

Boone knew the feeling.

"Glad I could help." She finished the last of her soda and pushed herself off the ground. "I need to get cleaned up and out of these clothes. If you need me at all later, let me know."

The doctor nodded to her in thanks. She walked away toward the stream, her companion following beside her.

Seeing her face, Boone noticed that she seemed more dispirited than he would have expected after helping to save some people's lives. "You okay?"

Letting out a heavy sigh, she stopped and looked at him. "Two of those boys are going to make a full recovery. Another had a bad infection and we had to amputate his arm and leg."

He put his hand on her shoulder in reassurance. "It happens. It's not your fault."

"Actually, what I was thinking is that he may be the lucky one. At least he gets to go home now. The other two...there's a good chance they won't see home again." She continued walking, stopping at the stream to wash off her hands and face. "Did you find the supplies?" she asked as she shook the excess water from her fingers.

Bending down next to her, he took off his aviators and splashed some water on his face. "Yeah, but the Legion had ambushed the troopers transporting it. Almost got us, too."

Turning quickly, she looked at him with concern. "Almost got you?!"

"We're okay. Nothing I couldn't handle."

Her face pinched in frustration. "I didn't know things were this bad. I don't think most people know. Back in the NCR, everyone probably thinks everything is going great out here, but it isn't. People are dying. Good people. And a lot more are going to before this is all over."

As was often the case, Boone didn't know what to say. He had seen war and the toll it took on people. This was different, though. Beth was a unique person, both optimistic and realistic at the same time. He hated to see her so dejected, but he couldn't really argue with what she was saying.

As they walked through the camp, a young female soldier with dark red hair jogged up to them. "Excuse me, Courier?" she said.

"Uh...yeah?" Beth replied with uncertainty.

"I'm Tech Sergeant Reyes. I heard that you've been helping out with things around here and that you kicked the Legion out of Nelson."

"Yeah, we did." She nodded to Boone.

"I was wondering if you would do me a favor."

"Okay. Maybe. What is it you need help with?"

Boone stood behind her and listened, as he usually did when someone approached Beth for a favor. Most people seemed to largely ignore him, which he didn't mind. He had been one of the many people who had asked her for help, which she had quickly agreed to. While he had thought that he trusted her entirely because she was a stranger, maybe that wasn't the whole reason. Maybe there was just something about her that attracted people in need.

"I'm in charge of communications and compiling reports for here, Camp Golf, the Ranger Stations, as well as for the brass at McCarran. I've been noticing some inconsistencies between our numbers and our reports, especially in regards to enemy sightings. Something isn't right. Either the reports are wrong or our radio security has been compromised and the enemy is intercepting our transmissions. I've made new radio security codes, but command won't allocate the resources to have them delivered to the Ranger Stations."
"So that's where we come in."

"Yes. When you get close to a Ranger Station, if you'd give them the new codes, I'd really appreciate it."

"Sure." Beth fiddled with a couple of switches on her Pip-Boy and Boone could see she was looking at her map. "We'll be passing by a couple of Ranger Stations in the next week or so. We'll be sure to make a stop."

"Great. Show this to the comm officer at each station." The sergeant handed over a holotape, which Beth took. "Thanks for this. Glad that someone is taking me seriously."

"You're welcome."

"We've also been getting some strange reports from some of the stations. I was hoping you could inquire about them when you're delivering the codes."

"What kind of 'strange reports'?"

"Unusually high casualties, Super Mutant Legionaries. It doesn't make a lot of sense. Here." She handed over a piece of paper. "I've written some of them down, along with the station that reported them."

Beth took the paper and glanced over it. "Khans with trained deathclaws." Boone noticed a strange seriousness to her voice, despite how ridiculous that concept sounded.

"That's what they said. Anyway. Thanks again for doing this." The women nodded to each other and the sergeant walked back toward the command tent.

"What's up?" Boone asked. "You think the Khans could actually train deathclaws?"

"No..." she said, still looking at the paper. "Why would someone report something like that?"

"Maybe they were out in the sun too long or were high on chems."

"Maybe. It just makes me uneasy. I've seen that sort of thing before. Controlled deathclaws."

"What? Where?"

She looked up at him gravely. "Back east," she said, her voice hushed.

His eyes widened. "Oh. They...they had trained deathclaws?!" he asked also keeping his voice low. He wasn't about to say the word "Enclave" within earshot of a bunch of already stressed NCR soldiers.

"Yeah, they controlled them with some kind of tech, though. The Khans don't have that kind of capability. But if it was...them, I doubt the deathclaws would be one of the first signs of them."

"No, I don't think so either, but something really isn't right here."

"It really isn't. We'll be sure to investigate as we go."

He nodded in agreement.

After they both privately changed into fresher clothes, they ate dinner from what they had in their packs, and then retired to an unoccupied tent with a couple of spare bunks. They were grateful not to have to spend another night sleeping on the ground. Beth flopped down on one of the dusty beds and stared up at the canvas ceiling.

Boone sat down on his own bunk on the opposite side of the small tent, then spoke up, "Hey, um...I wanted to thank you for bringing me to Bitter Springs. Things seem clearer now."

"I'm glad." A few moments later, she looked over at him. "Did you ever talk to Carla about...all that?"

He shook his head. "No. I wanted to. I just couldn't."

"So, why talk to me?"

It was a good question, one he didn't really have a complete answer to. He shrugged. "I don't think I would have if you hadn't brought it up. At first, I kind of regretted telling you. But then, once I thought about it more,...it just seemed like it was time. Guess I needed a push."

With hesitation, she asked, "Um...the stuff about Joshua Graham...is that a problem?"

Pursing his lips, he replied gruffly, "I don't know. I've been trying not to think about it."

She sat up. "Listen, I helped him fight those Legion-wannabe tribals because I knew it was the right thing for the other natives there, the Sorrows and the Dead Horses. They were good people, innocent. I didn't want them to lose their lives or their home. Yes, I did talk to Joshua Graham, but I didn't forget who and what he was."

Boone gritted his teeth. "Fucker deserves to die for the things he's done. Without him, there may not have even been a Legion."

"I don't disagree, but the tribes of Zion depend on him. Also, keep in mind that other than taking Hoover Dam, the thing Caesar probably wants most is for Joshua Graham to be dead. His continued existence is an affront to his authority."

"Maybe you have a point, but I still don't like it."

She cast her eyes down, seemingly unsure how to respond.

The silence hung heavy in the air for several minutes before he broke it. "So what's the deal with that gun of yours?" he asked abruptly, looking at the holster sitting on her pack. From the moment she recovered it from Benny's suite at The Tops, he had noticed she had a particular attachment to it. Then last night by the lake, she was studying it right before she brought up the Malpais Legate.

"It was a gift."

"From him?" He crossed his arms over his chest.

"Yes."
"Why did he give that to you?" Even though he couldn't hide the disgust on his face, he tried not to sound too suspicious or judgmental, but he wasn't sure he was succeeding. Tact had never been one of his strong suits.

"I stopped him from executing the enemy tribal leader in front of the Sorrows and Dead Horses. I didn't think that they needed to see such a brutal thing, since they had already seen too much death that day. I also didn't think it would be good for Joshua...afraid it might wake up the monster inside. He saw that I was right and later gave the gun to me as a thank you."

She sounded forthcoming, but her words didn't do much to put him at ease. "Strange 'thank you' gift," he commented tersely, still staring at it.

"Strange gift from a strange man."

"Why did you keep it?"

"I keep it to remind me of who I am, what I learned about myself in Zion. That I don't have to go down any path that I don't want to. I know how it must seem, but I don't keep it because it was from him."

"You think that a monster like that can really redeem himself?"

She paused, then shook her head. "No. I don't."

"What? Isn't that what you said last night?"

"No. I said he had been given a second chance, but I personally think he's too far gone. The pain of his burns keep him tame, like a beast in a cage. Take those away..." She shook her head with pursed lips. "I don't know. He claimed to be seeking redemption, but his words were hollow. Anyone who knows anything about it knows that God only forgives those who are truly repentant. Like you."

Boone's previous look of disgust softened somewhat into pensiveness. His eyes met hers and he stared at her for a moment, unsure of what to say.

Dropping her shoulders, she let out a long breath and said, "I know that if you knew all this before, we probably wouldn't be traveling together. I hope you can look past it now, but if you can't...you need to let me know."

Seeing the sadness in her eyes, he wanted to tell her it was all fine, but he couldn't because it wasn't. Although he knew she was one of the last people to have any Legion sympathies, he still couldn't help but be bothered by the idea of her in the presence of such a monster and speaking to him like he was human. She even used his given name. "I'll see you in the morning."

"Okay," she replied quietly. "Good night."

Lying down on their respective bunks, the fatigue from the last several days pulled them both into an uneasy slumber.

After returning to Bitter Springs, Boone had hoped that his nightmares would subside, but that was not the case. This one was new, however. The canyon was filled with Legion, but he couldn't manage to focus on any of them through his scope. He could hear Beth screaming his name, but he couldn't see her. Just as he became overrun with legionaries, he woke up.

Sitting up, he wiped the sweat from his face and sighed as the details of the dream began to fade. Then he heard mumbling coming from the other side of the tent. In the dim light, he could see Beth was in the midst of one of her own bad dreams, with her eyes twitching, her garbled words that he still couldn't make out, and her face and neck damp with sweat. Based on the vague statements she had made about her life since leaving the vault and the various scars he had seen on her skin, it was a wonder she didn't have them more often than she did.

Since their encounter with the eyebot, he had wondered what history she had with the Enclave, but there hadn't been a good time to ask about it. "My Legion" is what she had called them. The Legion had taken his family from him. Was that what the Enclave had done to her? He had gotten the impression that Beth didn't have a family, but maybe she had once.

Looking back to his companion, he saw that she seemed to have quieted down into a more restful sleep. The holstered gun on her pack caught his gaze and he felt the sinking feeling in his stomach again. He knew she was right that if he had known earlier about her familiarity with the Malpais Legate, they likely wouldn't be traveling together. But what about now? Was this something he could live with knowing? Was this too much for him to look past?

He studied her face, now peacefully asleep. Here was the nicest, most understanding person he had ever met. She stood by him even after knowing about Carla and Bitter Springs. She had reacted, but didn't reject him. How could he reject her over this now? He didn't want to. He wanted to stay with her. Also, he knew that if he was going to redeem himself, the surest way was by being at her side.

When Beth woke, the tent was lit with the morning sunlight from outside and she saw that she was alone. The bed Boone had occupied was now vacant. Did he leave while she was asleep? After learning about her connection to the Malpais Legate, however tenuous, she couldn't really blame him. Her throat tightened at the thought and she sat up. Then she noticed his beret sitting on the end of his bed. "He wouldn't leave without it. He must still be here," she thought, feeling hopeful. Getting out of bed and slipping on her boots, she picked up the cap and put it in her back pocket as she exited the tent. She intended to find him or breakfast. Just outside, she found both.

"Morning," she greeted tentatively.

He was sitting at an old picnic table with his back to her. "Yup," he said, his tone neutral.

She sighed, thinking that "good morning" still didn't seem to be in his vocabulary. "You're up early."

"Yup."

"That for me?" she asked, indicating a bowl of some kind of porridge next to a cup of coffee.

"Yeah. Probably cold now, though."

"Whatever. Thanks." She picked up the cup and took a sip, then grimaced with a short gag.

"The coffee's shit."

Setting the cup back down, she coughed. The cold, burnt bitterness lingered on her tongue. "Thanks for the warning." Sitting down next to him and in front of the bowl, she saw that he had a disassembled pistol in front of him, as though broken down for parts. Then she saw the snakeskin grip. "Hey! What the fuck do you think you're doing?!"

"You know, you really should clean and oil this thing more often, if you like it so much." Picking up the loose barrel, he showed it to her. "See the carbon build-up?" Taking his wire brush, he pushed it through the barrel and continued cleaning.

Shaking her head in disbelief at the genuine and oddly sweet gesture, she smiled. "Thank you."

"Mm hmm."

Pulling his beret out of her pocket, she set it on his head, noticing he was letting his hair grow out some. "You forgot this on your bunk."

"Oh, is that where it was?" he responded flatly.

She watched him oil and reassemble the gun while she ate the cold porridge and forced down the awful coffee. When he finished, he set it down in front of her without a word and then began working on his rifle, disassembling it with practiced ease. It reminded her of the few times she'd seen someone play a musical instrument.

"So, are we okay?" she asked.

"Yeah, we're okay."