"The construction is progressing faster than ever Ma'am." Jill Verona said as she and Veronica walked the cat walk towards Site Delta's construction yard. "Once we started to set our construction drones to building more construction drones we were able to ramp up production faster than even my best hopes. They don't call it exponential growth for nothing."

"With the prototypes the Courier's been tinkering with, we've managed to cut two months off the construction of the vital systems." Jill explained. "With the extra breathing room, we can move onto Safety tests on the skeleton systems and such tomorrow which will let us cut even more time. If all the basic systems check out we can start thinking about bringing the really fancy stuff online."

"How long after that can you start with the upgrading the Zeta's base infrastructure and systems?" Veronica asked as they stepped through an entry way into and she looked at Project Ascension.

Veronica looked out across the massive hangar at the two suspended sections of machinery and wiring. Each section was in fact one half of the massive ship that was meant to envelop Zeta, each using the mother ship as its power and command core. Miles of circuitry, piping, and machinery of all kinds had already been funneled into the two behemoth pieces thanks to Veronica ordering the whole sale printing of what ever they needed despite the Mojave's laws against printing finished products.

Officially, she'd just signed several contracts for junk metal and material disposal, but in reality each contract was moving massive amounts of raw material to the facility's vending machines. She looked down to the work floor where modified vending machines devoured raw materials to feed freshly printed matter into the new auto factories copied from the Normandy's fabrication files. A small army of workers milled about a swarm of construction bots as tools, parts, and everything from cabling and screws to tools and safety equipment was belched out by the auto factories.

"I'd give us a few more weeks here to make sure the secondary and tertiary reactors are humming to the correct tune, but after that we can start syncing them to the Zeta's frequency." Jill said as they came to a terminal. "But once we have them synced we'll have to move fast to install Zeta at the heart of this beast before the reactors fall out of sync and we have to start the process over."

"We've got what? A week to encase the Zeta after initial reactor sync?" Veronica asked.

"Yes Ma'am." Jill said looking over a ledger on the terminal's screen. "Once we've got her encased we can move onto bringing all the non vital systems online and start installing bulkheads and the outer hull. Honestly, we'll be needing more coders and engineers for that stage of construction since we've got an army of construction bots. I'd like to get some proprietary software installed instead of the Frankenstein's monster of Zeta's and the Normandy's we're working with now."

"That might be a tall order." Veronica said, wondering just how many of the Big Empty's growing coding collective she could skim before someone noticed. "But I agree, right now we're working with a delay between issuing a command it actually being carried out by the system so I'll see what I can do. With your current personnel, when do you think she'll be ready for in atmosphere shake down?"

"With or without the outer hull?"

"Let's say both."

"At least three months if you want to take her for a spin with out most of the outer hull." Jill said, scratching her chin. "We'd only have Zeta's built in weapons online at that point, death laser and all those lovely heavy laser cannons the Courier installed, but at the range of in atmosphere flight they'd be more than overkill. Add two months onto that and you'd have both the Hull and most of the new weapons systems online. Both in atmosphere and void weapons."

"Five months until we have an honest to god capital ship that's space worthy?" Veronica asked, her eyes drinking in the massive construct. "You're not bull shiting me?"

"No Ma'am." Jill said waving her hands in a disarming gesture. "It helps that we have Zeta as a core to build around, and the plans you provided have been a godsend. We'll have the Mojave Dream ready in five-six months tops. She'll be ready to defend the Mojave from what ever comes from the stars or from the west."

"Good to know." Veronica said as she turned to look at Jill. "I'll make sure the flow of supplies and personnel keep coming, so keep your crews working. We need to get this done as soon as possible. If word of it gets out before we're ready to launch I somehow doubt that NCR will take it as anything but a threat."

"Of course Ma'am." Jill said with a nod. "You've kept the crews very comfortable out here with all the supplies and goodies you've been sending. Most of the grease monkeys were working for scraps and flea ridden beds not five years ago, as far they're concerned you're their new god. No loose lips around here."

Veronica looked back to the ship and she considered what was being built here. It wasn't just a ship anymore, with the mass effect cannons now ringing the atmosphere and the rapid developments here on the ground, the Mojave was changing before her eyes. Barely over a year ago she and Rex were overseeing the seeds of a growing society slowly progressing towards something like a real nation. Now, she was at the helm of a technology and cultural boom spurned on by a widening of their world view, well, universe view. Like it or not, there was no going back to the relatively simple days before the Normandy crash landed outside the Strip.

"Call me on the encrypted line if you run into any problems." Veronica said, turning away from the hulk and stepping back towards the teleporter.

/

The smell of coffee and the first dim light of dawn filled dark office as Alyssa sat in the gloom. She was tired, Alyssa hadn't slept well since Roxanne's admission. Every night she lay awake as emotions, urges, and hollowing doubts assaulted her mind the moment her guard was down. A bubbling miasma of conflicting emotions sat in her stomach, longing for the only woman who ever seemed to make her happy and hating that same woman for manipulating her. Alyssa could deal with being manipulated, she'd grown up in the Vault after all, but what she couldn't handle was the doubt of what feelings were real and what weren't.

Roxanne had woken memories in her. Memories of a life they'd lived together in another times. It had been a good life, filled with all the good and the bad anyone could expect or hope for. Her dreams were filled with them now, those phantom memories that made a compelling case for Roxanne's actions. It didn't absolve her of the crime of course, but in the face of their phantom life together Alyssa at least understood her desperate motive. And that was what was gnawing at her.

"A lot on your mind?" A hoarse voice asked.

Alyssa looked up to see Rex sitting in a chair in front of her desk, the early morning light gleaming off his quiet grey eyes as he considered her. Rex had always had an aura around him, a charge in the air that simultaneously intrigued and intimidated, but not today. No one had seen him since his daughter was injured on Zeta and Veronica's seizure of power. Part of her had expected him to be sporting a scruffy beard and rings around his eyes. Instead of that Rex was clean shaven and looked rested, his intense aura was gone now, replaced by a calm albeit wary demeanor.

"Did she send you?" Alyssa asked.

"No, Roxanne's many things, but direct is rarely one of them I've found." Rex said.

"Do you know...do you know what she did?" Alyssa asked.

"I'm aware." Rex said, a sympathetic look on his face. "For what it's worth, it seems she did neutralize the suggestion agent before the two of you got involved. There's a toxicology report from a neutral physician that proves it in your terminal mail."

"I saw it." Alyssa said, shaking her head. "Thank god I was paranoid about testing after that micro reactor leak."

"How's the memory?" Rex asked. "I got an infusion of new, or should I say old?, memories myself. It almost split my head in two, but I'm assuming you didn't have a buffer."

"No." Alyssa said, she sunk back into her chair and rubbed a temple. "I've got a whole other set of memories fighting for the light like lounge singers. Every moment I spent with your sister, all the good and all the bad, exists as if I actually lived it. I met the other version of you, you know?"

"What was I like?" Rex asked, his features a mask of cool control.

"Happy, a bit fat, but happy." Alyssa said, memories of a much jollier Rex playing at the edges of her mind. "You looked at peace."

"Part of me wonders if a bit of that Rex lives on." Rex said, a bitter chuckle growling in his throat. "But we play the hands we're dealt, even if the cards were meant for someone else."

"So, are you here to plead her case?" Alyssa asked.

"No, I can't ask anyone to ignore what she did." Rex said, a soft sympathy in his eyes. "I consider you an ally, even a friend if you can stomach that thought, so I just wanted to know how this was affecting you."

"I'm conflicted to say the least." Alyssa said, leaning back in her chair. "What she did, this mistake she made, violated every ounce of trust that could have existed between us. I want to hate her for that, to rage at her with all my heart, but this other life playing in my head and part of my sympathizes for god's sake. I…."

Rex was silent as Alyssa processed the words.

"I love her." Alyssa admitted. "And that's what scares me."

"Understandable." Rex said. "I'm not going to defend her. What she did was a horrible thing, and she knows it. If you never want to see her again I understand, and if you never want to see me again? I understand that too. There are ways to make sure you never have to interact with a Craster and stay here in New Columbia."

"You had no part in this Rex." Alyssa said, noting a small release of tension in his shoulder muscles as she absolved him. "I can't blame you for what she did."

"Okay then, good to know." Rex said, his fingers tightening around the stylized bird handle on his cane. "What about Roxanne?"

"What about Roxanne indeed?" Alyssa asked herself more than Rex. "How can I forgive her? How can I still love her for that matter?"

"The human mind is nothing if not contradictory." Rex said. "Look at Roxanne, in her desperation for control, for the slightest chance of undoing a cosmic fluke, she manipulated and controlled the person she was trying to save. Sometimes we destroy what we love by the sheer ferocity of our feelings, and even with that in mind it's not excusable. Love her or condemn her or both, I can't tell you what to do Alyssa, but what I do know is that leaving something like this to fester will rot you from the inside out."

"Are you saying I need closure?" She asked.

"I'm not in the buisness of telling people what they need Alyssa." Rex said, wincing as he stood. "Well, I kind of am, but not in cases like this. I've done so many horrible things in my life, and I'd like to think I've earned some forgiveness, absolution from sin, but at the end of the day it doesn't matter. The people I've hurt, they can hate me till the sun dies or they could have forgiven me a long time ago. You are a very dear friend to me, you shed blood for the Mojave and that makes you a sister in arms. What ever you decide, I'll be right there with you."

"And Roxanne?" Alyssa asked. "Where will she be?"

"Devoting her life in service to the greater good." Rex said. "She's offered herself as an operative for the Mojave in perpetuity, even offered to wear an explosive collar. Say what you will about her, but Roxanne is willing to fall on her sword in shame."

Alyssa turned and looked out the window at New Columbia's main street. At the people milling about their buisness and living in the bliss of their own problems. There was a part of her that wanted to clack an explosive collar around Roxanne's neck and work her to the bone. Yet that part of her was stayed by the phantom memories playing in her head, of the life and death she'd already lived. No, she couldn't hate Roxanne knowing what she'd lost, but that didn't mean she had to forgive her for it.

"I'll be ready to talk to her one day." She admitted. "Not today, but some day she and I are going to have a talk."

"That's more than she's hoped for." Rex said, coming to stand at her side. "More than she deserves if I'm being honest. If it helps I might know a good therapist if you need one."

"Really?" Alyssa asked. "No offense Rex, but you don't seem like the therapy type."

"Well, it's more a semi sapient auto doc than an actual therapist." Rex admitted as they stared out the window. "But I've learned to make do with what I have."

/

Arthur Maxson sat in his tiny cell staring at the door lamenting that he'd run out of rats a day ago. Though that wasn't too bad, the darkness was a nice buffer between him and the reality of his mistakes. In the dark confines of his cell there was nothing to remind him that it was his folly, his arrogance, that led to the death of so many. His only comfort was the fact that through his cooperation he would secure the survivor's passage to the safety of Brotherhood territory. He supposed that was worth the price of whatever the Voorhees bitch asked of him.

Then he heard voices out side his cell and winced as the door let in a blast of sterile light. He blinked away the temporary blindness and saw a feminine figure standing in the doorway between two guards. For a moment he thought it was the hateful bitch pulling his leash, but when his vision fully cleared he looked up at a younger version of said hateful bitch. Her hair was a darker blond and she was about half a foot shorter, but there was no doubt she was related to his captor.

"Arthur Maxson I presume?" She asked.

"For the moment." He croaked. "Give me an hour and I'll be a meat Popsicle before midnight."

"It's a testament to your willpower that you can quip even in this state." The woman said. "Can you stand?"

"I can do a lot of things." Arthur said, standing up on shaky feet. "But if I told you what most of them are, your guards there would bash my teeth in."

"Oh they wouldn't do that." The woman said, her grey blue eyes gleaming. "I've ordered every guard in this facility to stop the undeserved beatings. Now please answer me, can you stand Arthur?"

"I can." He said, deciding to play along for the moment. "Depends on what I'm standing for."

"Ooh, getting philosophical are we?" The woman asked, a light blush reddening her cheeks as she watched Arthur stand. "I am Lenore Voorhees, and may I offer you my deepest apologies for your treatment, daddy and Pammy are so very archaic in their methods. A guest of your status should not have been treated so barbarically."

"Ah, so you're the honey pot then?" Arthur asked, rolling his eyes. "Listen sweetie, I've read through all the old psych warfare books, and I know what you're doing. You're here to give me a nice bed, some food that I didn't catch and kill myself, and maybe a bath. All so you can play the good guy and bring me over to your side."

"Exactly." She said, smiling. "You're valuable, not too valuable that my father will think twice about having you drug around back and shot, but valuable enough to try bribing at least. Now that we understand each other, how about some dinner?"

Arthur looked at her for a long moment before he sighed and wiped rat blood off his chin.

"Fuck it." He said. "Might as well eat something decent before I get shot."

"That's the spirit!" She said, clapping as she led him down the hall.

She led him to a cozy dining room with a table set for two with simple yet delicious smelling dishes expertly arranged on the table top. Without waiting for him, Lenore stepped around the table and took a seat, pouring her self a glass of red wine as she waited for Arthur to seat himself. Arthur did so after a moment, trying to suppress the hunger pangs as the smell of the food washed over him.

"My mother used to cook this for my father when he'd come home from a tour." Lenore explained. "All simple foods cooked to satisfy the stomach of a hungry hungry man."

"So, what's the offer?" Arthur said, buttering a roll. "Or is this my last meal before execution?"

"Either or depending on how our conversation goes." Lenore said, smiling. "Listen Arthur, you're a talented young man and we both know you don't want to die. I hate to see a good man go to waste, and I believe you and I can have a very beneficial partnership."

"Your sister tortured me and mine for weeks, fuck you." He said ripping a chunk of roll off with his teeth.

"And I am very sorry for that." She said. "None of you knew anything of value and so much pain was hardly worthy of some rebellious children hopping a border. If it makes you feel any better, I can personally vouch that all of your people made it into the loving arms of their brothers and sisters. The Brotherhood though diminished is still autonomous enough within it's territory that you can be assure they're well taken care of."

"It was insinuated that the Lost Hills bunker was destroyed." Arthur said.

"Pammy loves to lie, truth is the Brotherhood has been in self imposed exile for years now." Lenore explained as she slid a thick folder across the table. "A more, malleable, council of Elders took command and through a yearly tithe of certain chems we can't produce ourselves they're allowed to clutch their relics in peace. Really, our biological research division would be quite fucked without them."

"If that's true then I suppose I should be thankful they're alive at all." Arthur said, looking down at the folder marked: Project Raptor. "What's this?"

"Oh just some of darkest secrets of the NCR." Lenore said, her smile turning devilish. "Tell me Arthur, what is your opinion of the Courier? Of the Mojave as a whole?"

"The Courier's...a relic if you ask me." Arthur said, rolling his eyes at how ironic those words were coming from him. "He's a myth that didn't walk off into the sunset when he was supposed to, a lone gunmen allying himself with aliens, monsters, and science mad fools all set to light the world on fire again. Sure, it's worked out for the Mojave, but wait until the day they start flirting with artificial humans or gene editing on a massive scale. He's the type to strip the humanity away from a people because it's "fairer" or "beneficial". The Courier's the type of man who'd share his canteen with a super mutant without a second thought, so fuck him and his "country"."

"Wow, no wonder you left." Lenore said.

"Yeah, that's why I left." Arthur said, swallowing the memory of Sally alongside a hunk of meat.

"Now Arthur, what if I told you that the NCR is looking to help the brotherhood rebuild itself stronger than ever." Lenore said, her eyes glimmering like a cat's. "Soon there will be an abundance of territory available to those who have the proper genetics and will to take it. The Brotherhood, despite its ideology is one of the purest populations of humans on Earth, and we would like you to lead a new era in its history. Give us your help, aid us in destroying the Courier and the monsters he's invited into his home, and in exchange the Brotherhood will be the unchallenged masters of their own kingdom, under your leadership as your grandfather once led them."

Arthur was about the tell her to fuck when he flipped open the folder and looked at a picture of Rex titled:

Raptor specimen #1 Nimrod

Status: Alive, Tier II enhancements unexpressed

Bio weapon status: Active.

"The Courier..." Arthur began.

"A weapon built by a mad man he called daddy." Lenore said. "Part of a fringe group of scientists my father helped put down over a decade ago, but it seems he missed the very monster he was hunting. Don't you see Arthur, we're not enemies at all, but allies in maintaining purity. The Courier is a mutant, an abomination of science, and represents the Brotherhood's greatest fear. Science left unchecked destroying the world."

Arthur looked at the paper and started reading over the notes. They detailed super mutant esque monstrosities born screaming and gene editing viral weapons that would morph whole populations into cattle to a new race of super men. Suddenly the prospect of the food sickened him.

"You say that all I need to do is help you kill the Courier and the Brotherhood is given room to grow again." He said, looking up into her eyes. "How can I trust you not to fuck me over?"

"Trust her kid." A gruff voice said.

"Wait, you're one of the Courier's..." Arthur said, as Boone stepped from the shadows.

"I was, but now I'm fighting for the right side." Boone said, a pistol in the hand he offered Arthur. "Pamela is a fucking psycho, but Lenore is trustworthy. If she makes a promise you can expect her to keep it."

"Why me?" He asked, staring at the gun.

"Because you patrolled around the dam more than anyone else if I recall." Boone said. "You and your band of paladins. Together you and I can get to a vantage point and take a shot that's going to change history. You and me kid, we're going to shoot the Courier through his heart in front of the whole Mojave."

?

Trenzia T'soni did not enjoy being forgotten or time to herself. She had paced up and down the confines of the Coffin roughly nineteen thousand six hundred forty three times since that mulling little whelp had locked her away. Truth be told, while she hated the pacing in of itself, she knew that if she allow her anger to get the better of her Trenzia would wring the life out of all her tools. Mother would not like that, not at all, and when she did manage to escape this place no more loss of life would be tolerated. A tremor passed through her as she imagined her Mother's punishment chamber in the heart of Remnant, her capitol ship.

"Lady Trenzia." One of her tools, a pilot named Doria, said as Trenzia passed her. "There has been a development."

"What is it?" Trenzia asked, stopping and looking towards the teleportation pad that was now slowly coming to life.

In answer, the pad pulsed bright and an old dark skinned human appeared atop the pad.

"Greetings ladies." The man said, old lips curling back into a smile. "My name is Silas Regier and this is a jail break."

?

Colonel Richard Everett watched the last of the trucks roll away into the gloom of the night. There was something chilling in knowing what was on those trucks, all the damage they were about to do. He couldn't stop it now, the plan had entered its next phase and thousands would die. Richard told himself that it would at least be merciful, he'd made sure that the first of the side effects was severe fatigue followed by coma. Maybe that would by him some mercy on his way to hell.

"Richard!" The general yelled as he appeared at Richard's side. "Can you believe we're this close?"

"No sir." He said, watching as the last of the head lights disappeared. "We'll reach full exposure within weeks now, and after that it's only a matter of releasing the "kill switch" as the techs are calling it."

"You sound glum, Richard." Voorhees said, slapping him on the back. "Cheer up, you've read the same projections I have. Once we take the Mojave and all those goodies they're holding back from us we can start the rebuilding. A better world built on the sacrifice of the old."

"I know sir, it's just that I'm still thinking of the nine out of every ten who are receiving the first part of the kill switch instead of the actual vaccine." Richard said. "I still think we could have fit a larger fraction of the populace into the inoculation group."

"We could have, but the NCR is rotting Richard and we have to cut out as much cancer as we can." Voorhees said, withdrawing a cigar from his breast pocket and handing it to him. "Think of our operation as chemotherapy, sure we're going to kill some healthy cells but we're going to be killing far more cancer. Why don't you go to your office, pour a whiskey, and enjoy this cigar. We're going to need you to be in top shape for the push. So get your head on straight, got it?"

"Yes sir." Richard said, rolling the cigar in his fingers.

"Good man." Voorhees said, patting his back one last time before he began walking towards his own waiting truck. "We're making a whole new world Richard, a whole new world!"

He didn't bother watching the General's truck drive away, instead he went to his office and collapsed into the chair behind his desk. Richard stared at the picture on his desk, it was a picture of a much younger version of himself holding his daughter when she was just nine years old. A pang of guilt stabbed into his chest as he considered what his lost daughter would have thought about her monster of a father.

"Violet." He said, tears in his eyes. "What have I become? How did I let that monster turn me into this?"

His phone rang and when he answered it he was surprised to hear a gruff feminine voice on the other line.

"Colonel Richards, this is Colonel Moore on an encrypted line." The voice said. "I understand that you're interested in coming along on my visit to New Vegas."

"Ah yes, Cassandra." He said, reaching under his desk to where the knapsack containing all of the evidence of his sins sat. "I would so like to see my grandson again"