IX.

Shall we dance the dance in sunlight
Shall we drink the wine of peace
Shall our tears be of joy
Shall we keep at bay the beast

No more tears
No more tears
If we live for a hundred years
Amigo, no more tears

"Como estais amigos"

Author's Notes (2022-09-22): This concludes the main story of Gem's struggle against the Enclave. I've also written a couple of standalone "sequel" stories, mostly regarding the Chosen One's *ahem* courtship, called "She Who Brings Solace" (1 and 2). The third one is kinda in the works and may be released if I make it come together well, time will tell.

07:45 Pacific Time, Oct. 17th, 2242

Pacific Ocean, near San Francisco

JOHN CASSIDY

"We're almost there. God, I'm so NOT going to be missing this rust bucket", Trader Vic announced as I entered the dilapidated mess room of the tanker where our team has set up our impromptu headquarters. Here, we stored our gear and loot while in transit, which thankfully was not to last for much longer. I was really not in agreement with the rocking of the boat, and most every minute I had a feeling that it was going to sink. It appeared that Vic, with whom I've bonded a great deal over the times we've shared during our travels, was of the same mind. I chuckled at his words.

Still, it was great to know that it was almost over – not just this insanely daring (to put it charitably) expedition, but the whole campaign. In the year – and then some – spent on this crusade, I've gotten accustomed to two notions, first and foremost. For one thing, I've long resigned to the fact that every moment could've been my last – indeed, I've seen more combat in this time since I've joined Gem and her little party than I had in my entire life before that. We had to fight just about everything, from run of the mill slavers and wasteland bandits to super mutants and lately, even the Enclave – the very existence of which had been a secret to me (as it had to all of us, to be honest) a scant year ago... And it was for the better – as I was really not sure that I would've signed up if I had known what we would end up going up against. I wager that most everyone would've thrown the towel in long ago, because going up against these kinds of dangers – and plainly the insurmountable odds, every so often – would've made the most battle-hardened (and plainly insane) raider start to question it all... then promptly "resign". Yet, the second thing I cherished like gospel was the belief that Gem's leadership would see us safely through all of it.

Mind you, this kind of faith was tested to the limit in the last battle that made Vault 15, the ruins of Mariposa and Navarro COMBINED look lightweight. When we thronged out into the oil rig's docking bay – only to witness the hulking form of the creature calling itself Frank Horrigan advance on us – I was almost sure that my final hour had come. Then, after Gem had attempted to talk him down – as she was always eager, but futilely this time, which was a rare mishap for our silver-tongued leader – I had, like all of our team suddenly expanded with the unexpected addition of the defectors from the Enclave, to strain myself to the limit of my combat abilities. But we made it through and... Here we were.

"Have you seen Gem around? Or Kitsune for that matter?" the old mechanic continued, oblivious to my descent into the depths of thought. That was a question I fortunately had an answer to.

"No. Last I heard, she stayed up late even after she had shooed us all away to fetch some sleep, to watch the surroundings. So there's a good bet she's still sleeping. And Kitsune was manning the AA gun, so she's probably the same", I replied, chuckling again at having said "manned" about a woman, even one as odd as the newest addition to our team.

"Do you... Do you think it's over?" Vic asked me nervously, licking his lips. I understood him well, as deep inside, he was not the same kind of consummate fighter that Gem or Sulik turned out to be – while I was probably somewhere in the middle. I would not blame him in the slightest – not just because I knew that his inclinations lay elsewhere, but also since he's never given us a reason to doubt his loyalties or aptitude, in combat or out of it, when the going really got rough. It was just that war hasn't become his second nature... And was that really a bad thing?

"By and large, I think it is", I replied earnestly; while the question was not weighing on me as heavily as it probably was on him, I really believed that at least this war was done. "But I guess the Chosen One knows better, and we got to ask her".

Vic nodded, his face becoming almost reverential at the mention of Gem, and Sulik, who was sitting on a bench and silently – after greeting me – cleaning his gun, also perked up. Her name was power, that much was certain.

"Actually, should I go and wake her up? Now that you're saying we're almost there", I ventured. He nodded again.

"By all means..."

I knew where the cabin our illustrious leader had chosen for herself was located, so I trotted along the rusty corridor, with decrepit pipes dripping water (at least I hoped it was water) all around me, to knock at her door. There was no answer, so I knocked once again, and when that failed to produce a result still, I became momentarily worried. Has she sneaked out to God only knows where, in spite of her fatigue? Or...

Well, only one way to know, I thought as I pushed the door slightly – only to find it unlocked and yielding to my effort with a rusty creak that made my teeth ache. But even that horrible grinding sound did nothing to rouse...

The Chosen One who was lying face down on the ancient linen, breathing slowly and placidly – that was the first thing I checked for, alarmed more than I was feeling appropriate. It looked like she did not even have the strength left to disrobe when she dropped off to sleep, as she was still wearing not only her vault suit but also the knee and elbow pads that could not have been comfortable to rest in. Still, her Gauss rifle and the matching pistol were neatly placed near the bed for easy access, like she always had them – a warrior's habit probably etched into her youthful soul by all the hardships and danger she had to live through.

Even though a girl so young and handsome should not have had to.

She was out like a light, still soundly asleep despite the noise, and looking especially endearing and innocently beautiful – not appearing at all like a deadly fighter and a wise military commander – with her dishevelled fair hair and mouth half open, illuminated by the weak morning sun filtering in through the dusty porthole glass. I knew I didn't really have the hots for her, bluntly speaking, even though only a blind man would not agree that she was stunning; there was something that kept me (and the rest of our team, the human part of it most apparently so) from lusting after her. In my case, it was not the age difference, but even the ones for whom it was barely there, Sulik and Kitsune, were likewise not infatuated – or hiding it so well that not a shred of emotion was visible, which would have been unlikely. While I was old enough to be her father's older brother, or even her grandfather if pushing numbers a little, I was still not a dead man, nor a monk; I knew what to do around a woman, and would not miss a chance to catch some action whenever possible. But there was just something about Gem that elevated her above being the subject of a base desire, at least for those of us who knew her – some kind of aura that made her stand out, and had others follow her lead naturally... Like all of us, from Sulik to Goris the Deathclaw, have.

The Chosen One was a suitably apt appellation for her, after all.

And to recall that at first, I was not really thinking much of her or her quest, only joining in because I was desperate after the city guards had shuttered my watering hole and left me without much of anything to do. Her fine looks notwithstanding, I thought she was just a tribal lass, even though the fact that both Sulik and Vic have been already following her has immediately piqued my curiosity and stopped me from rejecting her offer right away. However, she proved my doubts unfounded very quickly, as her mission captivated me soon enough, and doing a multitude of good things for the miserable wasteland we were living in along the way was a definite icing on the cake. Before long, I knew I would very soon be telling stories of our travels and tribulations, for I have been blessed with the honour of being a companion, a comrade in arms, a friend to a person who would be known in history as a great heroine.

I was not the only one who found that lofty spiritual vestment at odds with the image of a girl so young and so easy on the eye, I thought as I kept looking at her tranquil visage – and was no longer sure that waking her up was such a good idea. Her expression, at the same time, appeared to bear the definite answer to Vic's question, as her countenance was now very evidently bereft of the weight that had been burdening her for all these months – certainly since the very first day we met in Vault City, and surely for quite some time before that.

I tucked in the ratty, but evidently still serviceable blanket higher around her body to keep her warm, and tiptoed to the door, trying to make as little noise as possible. She still wouldn't wake up.

Oh, and speaking of women... As luck would have it, one of Gem's fellow villagers we've rescued from the oil rig was walking along the corridor at just the same time... It was a girl of pretty stunning looks that I've had a chance to talk about briefly the preceding evening. When she saw me, her face brightened, and she addressed me with the elation I could not quite understand just yet.

"Mister Cassidy, how nice to see you! You got to tell me about your travels a little!.."

Well, that could be the start of a beautiful friendship, I smirked to myself, and hurried to usher her away from the Chosen One's door lest we accidentally roused our leader from her well earned sleep. The faint sound of the ship's brass bell, intact and serving its purpose of announcing important events – like docking – even decades past the vessel's intended life, has unfortunately interrupted our conversation before we were able to make ourselves too comfortable, however.

CHOSEN ONE

After she had finished reprimanding Cassidy – though mildly and humorously – for not waking her up in time to witness (or command) the docking of the Poseidon oil tanker at its designated berth in San Francisco's harbour, Gem found, to her surprise, that none of her fellows in the expedition to the oil rig had left. Even the tanker's crew was assembled in the order completely uncharacteristic of the free-spirited vagrants bowing to no actual authority. And even the Enclave defectors commanded by the same old Sergeant Granite were still there, even though there was a telltale empty circle around them, and the gazes spared for them by the other inhabitants of the ship's spacious outer deck were far from friendly.

But they were all waiting for her – for her to speak, if not to give them orders. All these men, women and even one intelligent Deathclaw, all these disparate persons who had no reason to look up to her, certainly not now, after all the deeds have been done...

Or did they?

She looked at all of them – from her tribe (oh, how painful it was to see their number so diminished!..) to the erstwhile foes, the Enclave troopers in their power armour – but with all the visors drawn back to reveal their faces. It was only then that she was made completely sure they really were humans, too... And now also her charges.

They were all heroes, she thought. They have marched – though some not entirely of their own volition – against the enemy that would have seen them all dead, exterminated to the last man, woman and child... and prevailed. Her quest was done, as she has avenged the blood of her kindred and rendered vengeance to adversaries. Now the time was to provide atonement for the land and the people. Would she be able to win at peace just as she has won at war? Time would tell.

No point in drawing it out, she smirked to herself as all the gazes were turned to her own power armoured form.

"A gracious good morning to you folks", she chuckled. "It should be a really good morning for all of us, because we're still alive, safe and our enemies should be exploring the bottom of the sea as we're speaking".

There were a few bursts of laughter, mostly from the side of the vagrants, though the Arroyo tribespeople and the ex-Enclave soldiers appeared unamused. That would be the first time they would agree on something, Gem thought, even though it was for wholly different reasons. Maybe it would not be the last, however.

"So what do we do now?" someone asked. Straight to the point – and that was the question Gem has been pondering on for quite a while. But last night, after floating in the cold void of an exhausted, dreamless sleep for an immeasurable amount of time, at some point she suddenly got comforted by a warm feeling and had a pleasant vision that gave her the answer.

In her mind's eye, images of the white sandcrete buildings Gem had seen in the Vault City and NCR mingled with the scenery of her dear old Arroyo, now lost forever, then with the tangle of machinery she witnessed in Broken Hills and Gecko, and even, a little bit, with the dangerous glitz of New Reno. Yet that commixture radiated none of the frigid haughtiness of the first, no deathly despair of the second, no cold detachment of the third and no filthy decadence of the latter – instead, that mosaic embodied within it the technical advancement, the ancestral wisdom, the industrial power and the lively bustle of these places... Their best traits, not the worst ones; and the Chosen One knew in that instant how she wanted her new, yet uncreated home to look... even if she didn't fully understand how she would be getting there. But if that was to be her new lifelong quest, right after finding the GECK and destroying the Enclave, she would rise to that task. And lead those who would follow her to this new golden dream.

"We get on with our lives", she smiled. "We live, we rebuild what we can. And I have just the idea of what I'll be doing to make what I can of this wasteland a better place. Now, will you follow me like you have on this expedition against the Enclave?"

JOHN CASSIDY

"Well, this was a rousing speech if I've ever heard one", I murmured so that only Gem could hear me as we were both hauling the crates of loot down the cargo ramp and onto the pier.

"Well, I am the silver tongue here, ain't I?" she chuckled humorously, then became serious. "But I am also, kind of, the one with the vision, right? I'm not deceiving these people, I will do whatever it takes to make it all come true. For them and whomever else might join up along the way".

"And would you trust them – not this lot, they are proven enough, but the others – enough to back you up every step of the way? Even after what we've seen... some of the people out there do to each other?" I asked. It was not an attempt to rain on her parade, much less a conscious one – that was the question that really did weigh heavily on my mind. While the almost sixty years of life in the Californian wasteland really did help me shed any kind of illusions I might've had about our sorry species in general, what we've witnessed at Vault 13, and a few times since, has really sunk my opinion lower than the remnants of the thrice-damned oil rig. And while I did acknowledge the existence of the bright human beacons like Gem herself – hell, her parents must have been really prescient when they named their daughter! – I really had no reason to think she alone would have been able to turn the tide.

She understood what I meant, it looked like, and nodded her head thoughtfully – but without a hint of umbrage, the testament to her wisdom. From the way her face was looking as she stared me in the eye, pausing her efforts and making me do likewise – it appeared she was still undaunted, though.

"I see where you're coming from, John. But even when we were down there on the oil rig, in the deepest recesses... both literally and figuratively, if you get what I mean... remember that we could still make that scientist, Curling, repent and turn around. I still regret not being able to convince him to leave with us, but it was his choice in the end. Yet, if we managed to find some light even in that place of utter darkness... I know I will cling on to hope for the wider world", she intoned almost solemnly.

And I could not help becoming convinced by her words, sensing the deeper truth – and not just the skill of eloquence – beyond them. Instead of speaking out, I just shook her power armoured hand with mine, similarly clad in the combat suit, since we were using ours – and so did the rest of human members of our team – to help us with transporting the heavy items out of the tanker... and towards where they would be used in our new life.

My sight skipped to one of the GECKs, one of the first spoils of war – and the most precious one, if the stories were true – to be carried out into the dockside. I smiled at Goris, who was placed to guard it, no longer feeling any of the doubt and apprehension I was feeling for him initially, and the Deathclaw grinned back, baring inch-long teeth. Yes, if Gem's vision would accommodate even these terrible creatures and make them feel right at home, who was I to question or deny it?

It appeared that Gem could either read thoughts, or was extremely perceptive when it came to understanding others – well, the latter was already a given anyway. Still, the question she asked right then did catch me up a little short.

"And what are you planning to do now, John? Still going to look for Texas after all?"

Damn... that one did hit closer to home than I would have liked. I really did have a dream before I set out to join the Chosen One on her campaign trail. On the other hand...

I thought of all the wonders that, I was sure, Gem and those who would follow her – who were already following her – would bring about. Of the great camaraderie that we've forged between ourselves – her, me, Vic, Sulik, Goris and even the relative newcomer Kitsune. Then my thought skipped to that tribal girl, Reina, and my heart treacherously skipped a beat. As if sensing this, Gem cocked her eyebrow slightly, in an entirely good-natured, humorous kind of irony, as if she already knew the answer.

"I think I'll stick around – Texas can wait a little. Besides... I think that the new Arroyo will definitely need a watering hole, and I know just who might be a good candidate to run it..." I replied with a laugh.

We high-fived, and got back to our work. We had a lot of that ahead, but that did not scare us.