The sun hung low in the sky as the afternoon began its change into evening, and the people of Shady Sands were setting to themselves to the changing of the guard. Every day time worker, from pencil pusher to laborer, were already out the door and pouring onto the streets in a futile attempt to beat the incoming wave of people going to their evening shifts. Newsman Post, his real name buried under so many aliases that even he had trouble remembering it sometimes, watched all of this play out from his bench atop a hill that gave unobstructed views of both the Capitol building and the office buildings surrounding it. While he was undercover in the NCR he'd taken to enjoying a cup of water and reading his paper while he watched the crowds minx and mingle. For a man who's life was dedicated to the information trade he was surprisingly fond of watching the undecipherable chaos of crowds, letting the chaos wash out anything discernible beyond what street food was popular.
"Post." Newswoman Journal said as she sat down next to him. "How's the people watching?"
"Not bad." Post said, smiling at his colleague. "Cool day, everyone and their brother's got their windows open trying to enjoy it. Lot's to see. Any word from back home?"
"The shelter in place order is still in effect, but beyond that nothing." Journal said, lighting a cigarette. "Have heard some rumors that the Courier's-"
She was cut off by the sound of a plane engine above them. Post looked up to see a huge tanker plane flying down low over the city, black clouds rolling off its wings as it cut through the air dropping so low that it was only a hundred or so feet from skimming the roof tops. The black clouds dispersing into the air yet still lingering their in a haze that seemed to cling to everything around them.
"Fuck heads are spraying for mosquitoes." Journal said, cleaning black haze off her glasses. "New formula, completely safe they say."
"Send a sample back to the egg heads?" Post asked.
"I did but haven't heard anything back yet." Journal said, putting her glasses back on and looking out across the crowds. "Should be safe enough, from what my sources tell me it's just some all natural extract that kills the rad biters. You want to get a drink after Gazette and Enquirer relieve us?"
"At that shit hole you took me to last time?" Post asked, raising an eyebrow at her.
"Come on, it's not that bad." Journal said, smacking him on the shoulder. "The hooch is good shit for coming out of a tree trunk still."
"That may be but…" Post said, trailing off as he saw a tremor pass through the crowds and heard a scream.
"What the fuck is going on down there?" Journal asked as they stood up watching the crowd collapse in on itself with dozens of people collapsing where they stood.
"Don't know." Post said, looking around and noting the lack of any NCR military responding to the chaos. "Doesn't look good though."
"We need to get back to ops into quarantine." Journal said, stripping off her jacket and throwing it down. "That wasn't mosquito killer."
"No." Post said, watching as the dozens turned to hundreds and he could see blood pooling on the concrete. "No it wasn't."
?
Sylas Regier didn't think himself a cruel man. He'd live all of sixty seven years running caravans between the NCR and the Mojave, making a small fortune in caps as he slowly wormed his way into the good graces of every legitimate merchant outside the Legion. In all sixty seven of those years he never once enjoyed the hard parts of the job, be it leaving a drunk to sober up in the middle of nowhere or shotgunning down thieves cutting into his supply Sylas never bat an eye. Adaptability was the key to living in the wasteland, adaptability and a little bit of healthy greed really. Regier had been one of the first merchants to "change sides" and come to live in the Mojave, renouncing his NCR citizenship but keeping all of his connections open to the maligned country's richest and most corrupt. Connections that of course put him into direct contact with Vorhees.
"It's good to be a patriot, don't you think Brent?" Sylas asked, swirling the fine whiskey in his glass as he and his ridiculous accomplice sat watching servants setting up tables for the victory party.
"Can't really say yet." Buxton said, fidgeting with an over sized bolo tie hanging from his fat neck. "The plan is a might bit complicated don't you think?"
"It'll work Brent, don't you worry." Sylas said, tapping his glass against Buxton's nearly full tumbler. "Right now, all across the Mojave the teams I let into the teleportation matrix are striking at the soft tissues of the Mojave. Killing, raping, and burning just enough to crack the foundations so that our army can stroll in and break the whole region in two. And with all those poor souls lost to the Mojave's "attack" not only will our strikes appear defensive but our boys in uniform will be foaming at the mouth for their blood and booty. In a week's time we'll have the dam, in a month we'll have the Strip, and in a year Big Mt will be revolutionizing the surviving NCR civilization with the juiciest tech you ever did see. This is how you wage war, surgically with ruthless efficiency."
"Call me old fashioned, but I miss the days when you just shot the bastard you didn't like in the back." Buxton said, finally letting go of his bolo and grabbing the tumbler to drain it in one gulp.
"Slow down there Buxton, that's twenty year old scotch." Sylas chided. "Besides we got the bastard we don't like shot in the face."
"Shot a bastard in the face that's for sure." Buxton grumbled under his breath as Sylas' attention was absorbed in the rear of a servant girl.
?
Vorhees knew he was an evil man. He'd known that since the day he ripped the wings off a fly when he was nine and felt the rush of hurting it. There was something in inflicting pain, dominating someone to the point there mind and body became his that nourished his soul. Girls were his favorite "meals", young ones with that defiant spark only the really special children had, and throughout his life he'd indulged himself in the spoils of his black ops career. Leaving no less than two dozen small graves across the wastes, two dozen souls he'd warped and consumed all because he could. Because he was the apex predator and the world loved him for it.
His next delicacies to savor sat bound to chairs in front of his desk. Both had been stripped and scrubbed raw before he'd ordered them dressed in pure white dresses, and as he watched them from his comfortable chair he couldn't help but lick his lips at how innocent they looked. How pure they were, even in the beginnings of developing into young women they held that sweet aura that he so loved to gore until it was nothing but viscera. But the red head woke something deeper in him, the sight of her looking so much like the Craster's sweet little Rose made him want to start early, but monster he may be, he was a man of discipline.
"Dad, I've got reports coming in from across the Mojave." Pamela's voice reported through the intercom on his study's wall. "Plus a confirmation on the Hoover Dam operation."
"Come in sweetie." Vorhees said, standing up and grabbing a packet of smelling salts as he rounded his desk.
"You won't believe it but all but two teams…" Pamela said as she entered the study only to trail off as she found her father standing before the red head.
"Hold on, I want her to hear." Vorhees said as he cracked open the packet and held it under the red head's nose.
She started and woke with a loud shout and immediately went into a panic, straining against her bindings.
"Quiet!" Vorhees yelled, striking her and grabbing her by the jaw as the shock of the blow stunned her. "Don't bruise that delicious skin anymore and keep those lips shut, or I'm going to start hurting your friend, got that?"
He turned her head to look at the other girl the Mutos captured and after a moment she nodded.
"Good girl, your aunt had too much fight in her, but you and I are going to get along just fine I think." He said releasing her and stepping back to lean against his desk. "Now Pamela, tell me about our strikes in the Mojave, start with the wider picture and finish with the Courier."
"What did you do to-" The red head began before being cut off by another strike across her cheek, red blood dripping from a now split lip.
"Now now, look what you did to your face." Vorhees said, savoring the anger he saw in her mutated eyes as they glared at him. "Give me the reports Pamela."
"Yes." Pamela said, her gaze meeting the red head's for a moment before she looked away. "You won't believe this, but all original thirty strike teams are reporting success with minimal casualties, all but the secret holding cell in New Vegas and the botanical park were successful. The Mojave's nerve centers are smoldering piles of radioactive rubble and their leadership has been gutted from within while Sylas' network access has given our assault teams direct access to the Courier's brain and the master controls of Big Mt. If these reports weren't coming in from our own men I'd say it was too good to be true, dad, we've all but crippled the Mojave."
"We're the rightful masters of this country Pamela, nothing is too good to be true." Vorhees said, savoring the anger and confusion washing over the girl as she processed the report. "We've been preparing for this for years and today is the culmination of the sacrifices and blood lost to the deviants ruling the east. Speaking of, Pamela how fairs the Courier?"
The girl's expression hardened and she swallowed what had to have been quite the swear judging by how it warped her face as she suppressed it.
"Dead, Loraine confirmed it with her own eyes." Pamela said. "Shot once in the head from distance while he was delivering his speech at the Hoover Dam."
Vorhees watched as grief, disbelief, and hopelessness washed over the girl all at once.
"Hear that girl?" Vorhees said, squatting down to look her in the face as she cried for her father. "Your daddy got domed and your country is bleeding out, there's no one coming to save you now."
"My father's the Courier." She said, sniffling before looking him straight in the eye and smirked. "He's been shot in the head before and looked what happened to the last man who thought that it killed him."
"Clever girl." Vorhees said, reaching up to cup her face with his gruff hands. "I'm going to enjoy breaking you."
"And I'm going to enjoy watching my father burn you to the bone." She said, smashing her head forward and head butting him.
"You little bitch!" He called out as he stumbled back.
When he regained his balance he saw that she was looking at him defiant despite the fresh gash on her forehead.
"I am Alena Craster, daughter of the Rex Craster and Kella Star-reader and I will not break." She growled.
"We'll see about that." Vorhees said, wiping blood from his nose. "Pamela, tell the servants these two aren't to get any water or food. I want no one to even dust in here until after the victory party, got that?"
"Of course dad." Pamela said as her father walked to the door.
"Oh and Pamela." He said, stopping in the doorway. "Turn the heat to maximum."
?
Corporal William Renly felt alive for the first time in three years. Ever since he was expelled from the dam he'd stumbled through life like a drone, barely managing to function even as General Vorhees set about rectifying their loss at Hoover Dam. But now he felt alive again, felt the rush of combat filling every cell with energy as he fought his way through robot rad scorpions and sonic weapon wielding brain bots on his way to Big Mt's core control. In truth he'd never felt so alive, his skills and years of experience blending together as he and his men cut through the resistance like butter and came to what his Intel had dubbed the Think Tank. There they'd destroyed the floating brains controlling the place with heavy rocket fire and Renly himself had personally delivered the capture and control code into Big Mt's central computer.
"Sir, we need to report mission success." His second said, coming up the stairs to report.
"Yes we fucking do!" Renly said, grabbing his communicator and queuing in his security code. "Command, this is Texas Red reporting mission success with only three casualties. Full report to follow once we've been reinforced, Texas Red out."
"Walkins, order the men to keep up their patrols I want this place locked down until reinforcements arrive." Renly ordered his second, only for the man to lock up with his arms outstretched to either side of him. "Walkins, what the fuck is going on?"
Walkins didn't answer, instead the man simply blipped out of existence. Renly cried out in shock only for the room around him to shudder and begin to blip out of existence piece by piece. A slow blackness began to spread across the room, eating at the edges to crawl towards him faster and faster until the floor gave way. Corporal William Renly fell into blackness and his scream was swallowed up by silence.
"Hm, simulation effective when enough memory available. Otherwise begins to break down." Mordin said as he watched the corporal twitch and whimper on the ground of his cell, the memory visor strapped to his face. "Good thing had access to Mesmer before hand. Otherwise subjects would have realized that they were in simulation."
"We only had so much time Mordin." Tali chided. "We had to make thirty sets of visors and simulation cores in the span of two weeks, I'm happy this worked at all."
"You both did great." Jack said, sneering at a recording of Renly's reaction as she looped it over and over on her omni tool. "Remind to get EDI to make a super cut of all these idiots realizing they walked right into a trap."
The trio was standing in the Think Tank's improvised holding area in the building's teleportation hub watching the platoon of NCR shock troopers twitch under the influence of the Memory visors. What started as a therapy tool had morphed into an ad hoc tool of mass delusion if the subject was hit with a Mesmer just as they stepped from the teleportation pads. Honestly, part of Jack felt a little sorry for the walking pus sacks, they'd come in thinking they were going to strike at the heart of their enemies only to teleport into holding cells where their brain was hijacked by a fucking frog man.
"Yes. Need to adjust power levels though. Could harm ocular nerve if level remains high." Mordin said, tapping something into his Omni-tool. "Better just to execute but Courier wants them to stand trial."
"Good trick." Mordin said. "Pulled something similar with a varren and an Asari diplomat back in task force days. More blood involved surprisingly."
"How's he doing Jack?" Tali asked. "I saw what he looked like after the teleporter malfunctioned."
"Mordin, you and I are going to have quite the fucking bullshit session one day." Jack said, shaking her head before turning to Tali. "Rex is doing well all things considered, licking his wounds as he's beating himself up over the attacks that slipped through. Trying not to throw himself at the NCR before we actually know where they took her and Mara."
"We'll get her back." Tali said, putting a hand on Jack's shoulder and looking her in the eyes. "Zeta is already…"
Tali was cut off as the teleportation pad behind them activated and Shepard jumped off of it.
"Shepard!" Tali said as their captain stepped into the light, revealing blood soaked clothes and a score of cuts and bruises.
"Shepard, what happened?" Jack said, stepping forward only to be stopped in her tracks as she saw the look in Shepard's eyes. "You were caught in one of the attacks that made it through, weren't you?"
"Thane is dead." Shepard said, her voice trembling as she said it.
"Oh no." Tali said. "Shepard I'm so-"
"Where's Rex?" Shepard asked, cutting Tali off as she glared at Jack. "Where is he?"
"He's in the med bay recovering from-" Jack began but before she could finish Shepard was already moving.
Jack darted after Shepard who had broke into a mad sprint towards the med bay.
"Shepard!" Jack called after her as they bounded up a staircase. "You need to calm down!"
"I'm calm Jack." Shepard said, stopping I the hall and turning back to look her in the eye. "But the man I love just died in my arms and I want to know why this happened. How did the NCR slip fucking commandos into New Vegas with that much fire power? I want Rex to look me in the eye and explain why his master plan let a band of enemy combatants into one of the most visited locations in the city with a nuclear bomb."
"The same thing that's ruined every plan since we started throwing rocks at each other." A voice said from down the hall. "Out of date information."
Jack and Shepard turned and saw Rex standing in the hall way with Veronica at his side.
"You look good for a man who was just shot in the head." Shepard said.
"I miscalculated when plotting my little switcheroo on the dam." Rex explained, wincing slightly. "Instead of Reximus' corpse taking all of the hit the bullet traveled through his skull and managed to get caught up on the edge of the teleportation field. It came along with me and gave me a pretty new scar."
"Faking your death too." Shepard said. "Was the park filled with innocent people part of the ploy? Make it more believable did it?"
"Our intelligence was old, a week too old to be exact." Rex said, looking horrible with hollow eyes beneath a thick bandage over one side of his face. "They added the park, the secure holding cell where we were keeping Artemis, and the compound I sent my daughter to. Fifty Mojave citizens are dead along with sixteen from the Brotherhood, and I'm sorry to add Thane to the causality list I really am."
"I'm sensing a but coming." Shepard said, the information burying the rage a little.
"But,there's something else we missed." Rex said, wincing. "Tyrone, play her the message from our Newsman in Shady Sands."
"Newsman Post reporting, there's been some kind of biological attack on Shady Sands. People are bleeding from the eyes and dropping dead all across the city."
"A few hours ago, the NCR began spraying an anti mosquito agent around most of its major cities." Veronica said after the message ended. "We've learned that it was actually an activator virus tailored to merge with a protein in the blood of nine out of every ten NCR citizens who received their new vaccine. When the virus meets the protein it starts to target the nerves with death coming within twelve hours of exposure."
"Oh my god." Shepard said. "How many people got the vaccine?"
"Last count was six hundred thousand five hundred fifty three people." Rex said. "With only the most nationalist communities and members of the military being given the true vaccine."
"We crunched the numbers, and since the agent was delivered in the air over the most populated regions of the NCR, regions bursting with refugees from the storms or crop failures, we expect that nearly ninety percent of the NCR population will be dead in forty eight to fifty three hours, depending on the prevailing winds." Tyrone's voice said through the intercoms, sorrow dripping off every word.
"They…murdered over half a million of their own fucking people?" Jack asked, shock freezing her face.
"Murdering." Rex said, swallowing before he continued. "They're murdering half a million of their own people."
"How do you know this?" Shepard asked, stunned at the mass loss of life.
"My grandfather helped plan it all." Rex said, his tone neutral but his eyes gleaming with barely held back fury. "Used what was left of my father's research to create the virus and the protein along with super mutant variants like the one who ripped my arms off. He's defected and currently waiting to go to the gallows for what he's done if that's any consolation."
"This is insane, why would they wipe out most of their population?" Shepard said.
"They seem to think that once our robot population was under their control and the survivors united around crushing the evil Mojave they can consolidate resources and build their fascist utopia." Rex explained. "I thought they were just going to try and sow enough chaos they could take some ground, but this? I've fought evil Shepard, or at least I thought I had, but this is something beyond that. There's less than five million people alive on this planet, and they're wiping an eighth of them out to justify subjugating the Mojave."
She looked at him for a long moment, the sheer scale of the loss barely recognizable as her mind tried to process it. Shepard had fought in large scale combat before, seen colonies burning from orbit as their comms teams listened to plea after plea for help, but that was war. This was genocide.
"You were focused on protecting the Mojave, you had no idea that they could or would do this." Shepard said, stepping forward and looking Rex in the eye. "What matters now is what you do next. How do we prevent further loss of life and help the people on the ground right now."
"Our teams in the Big Mt bio division are working on a vaccine for the…vaccine as we speak." Tyrone's voice came crackling over the intercom, sorrow replaced by determination. "If I may, I would like to request Dr. Solus aid us in this endeavor."
"You have him." Shepard said.
"We're preparing teams in hermetically sealed long haul power armor and bio suits now." Veronica said. "We can teleport them in with aid supplies within twelve hours and our Newsmen can help us determine where on the ground we're most needed."
"And I've ordered every vending machine, auto factory, and chem lab in the Mojave to start producing long haul supplies." Rex said. "Tents, water purifiers, and anything else the survivors will need, but there's still the matter of my daughter in the hands of the bastard who orchestrated this genocide. I have a battalion of Turncoat legion militiamen and three hundred Securitron standing by to assault Vorhee's stronghold in the northern regions of the NCR where he's conveniently collected both his most loyal military assets and what's left of the NCR's leadership. Including the bastard who's been running the infiltration of the Mojave government since its inception."
"So, a rescue mission wrapped around assaulting the enemy base." Shepard said, nodding. "I'm not a vengeful person, I've tried my whole life to fight the instinct to hurt people to become just like the monsters I've brought to justice even if only a little bit. But just this once, I'm going to let that renegade part of my soul out and burn this mother fucker to the ground."
"Good to hear." Rex said, no emotion on his face as he turned and limped away. "We ship out in two hours."
"You're coming along?" Shepard asked, stopping him in his tracks. "You look like shit Rex and can barely walk on your own."
'
"Lucky for me I've got an inheritance to collect." He said, walking off down the hallway with Jack following close behind.
?
"Tyrone, is it ready?" Rex asked as he stepped into his quarters and passed by one of his brain's many secondary tanks.
"Yes Rex, the Nimrod serum has been successfully reproduced and concentrated into the super stim iv solution." Tyrone said, his tank glowing softly as Big Mt's system's bent to his will. "I have already seen to a large enough dose to cause full genetic expression within the time frame, for the both of us."
"For the both of us?" Rex asked, raising the one eyebrow he had left.
"Alena is my daughter too." Tyrone said, his tank glowing a dark green. "I know I've gone on and on about how those pesky hormones and emotions get in the way, but as we've lived our symbiotic life something of an emotional core has developed within my personality. I…care about you, our family, and even the Mojave full of ungrateful fools as it is. As Penelope said, the Nimrod serum will create something our father never dread of in the synthesis of biological and synthetic, a new stage of evolution with untold possibilities. The strength our inheritance promises is only a fraction of what our potential could be."
"You just want to see what will happen, don't you?" Rex asked. "Let me guess, have a few blue box processor shards lined up to merge with the grey matter?"
"You are very good at predicting my preparations, as always." Tyrone said.
"Well you are me after all." Rex said, leaning against his dresser.
"So, that's the plan?" Jack said, barely letting the door open before she was in Rex's face. "You're going to inject yourself a wonder drug and go off to war?"
"I need to save Alena." Rex said, gently putting his hands on her arms. "And I can't do it without-"
"I know." Jack said, wrapping her arms around him and burying her face in his chest. "You're too beat up to end this without the serum, I know."
"Not going to try and talk me out of it?" He asked, holding her close to him. "Maybe talk me into sending someone in my place?"
"No, I know you Rex." Jack said. "You're like me, there's still that angry hurt little kid inside you who wants to blow the world up for what it did to you. Shepard helped me put that kid to rest and I know you won't find closure unless you're there to see it end. The only good thing about this whole fucked up day is that Shepard is going into it with you since I can't, she saved me and I know she'll save you."
"She's pretty angry herself." Rex said. "Vorhees' men killed Thane, I don't know if she's going to be the angel on my shoulder tonight."
"Oh don't count her out yet." Jack said. "Shepard's got real honest goodness in her, some light that keeps her on the path that all of us stray off of again and again. She's angry and hurting, but in the end she'll choose the light, no matter how tempting it is to step into the black with the rest of us."
"When did you get so poetic?" He asked her, kissing her forehead as he savored the contact.
"Hanging out with you, Carrot top." She said, chuckling. "You're more than a bit of a drama queen."
"What can I say?" Rex said, looking past her to where his new equipment hung on the wall. "I love to put on a good show."
?
Blood and sweat dripped down her nose as Alena struggled against her bindings. She'd spent the better part of two hours, sweating buckets and straining against the bindings until she was on the verge of giving up seeing as Mara was still unconscious and her remaining arm was going numb from the bindings. Hopelessness started to gurgle somewhere deep inside her, threatening to drown her mind in despair as the reality of their situation set in. They were going to die here, probably after that horrible man did things to them until he was satisfied. Tears welled in her eyes as the thought of never going home again, of never seeing her family and friends again, filled her mind.
"Are you just going to give up now?"
Alena looked up to see a young, slightly transparent, red headed girl of around fifteen standing behind the desk.
"Who are you?" Alena asked.
"Someone who never got the pleasure of knowing you." The girl said, stepping forward and running a hand over a letter opener on the desk. "Answer my question Alena."
"What am I supposed to do?" She asked the probable heat stroke hallucination. "I'm…I'm tied up and I have one arm and…"
"You're also not more than three feet from the desk, aren't you?" The girl asked, waving a hand over the desk top.
"What does that…" Alena said, trailing off as she looked over the desktop and the assorted knick knacks lining it, her gaze lingering on the letter opener and the box of smelling salts.
"There's a good girl." The red head said, smiling as she started to fade away. "Make us proud Alena, we know you can do it."
Alena looked at the space where the apparition had been and nodded after a few seconds of contemplation.
"Thank you heat stroke vision." She muttered, inching the chair to the edge of the desk and trying to grab the letter opener with her teeth only to realize it was just out of reach. "Dammit."
Then she noticed that the packets of smelling salts were in reach and turned to the still unconscious Mara. Alone she couldn't reach much of anything, but if she had Mara's help than maybe she could angle herself just enough to get the letter opener and pass it to Mara so she could cut their bindings. Alena bent her neck and grabbed one of the packets of smelling salts with her teeth, biting into it and arching her head back to empty the salts into her mouth. Wiggling the chair around with the burning salts in her mouth she whipped her head and spat a glob of saliva coated smelling salts right into Mara's face.
"Wa!" She yelped as the salts dripped down her face as she looked around, confused. "Alena…where are we?"
"A very bad place, but that doesn't matter right now." Alena said. "We need to get that letter opener and cut ourselves free."
"Who tied us up?" Mara said, ignoring Alena as she struggled against the bindings only to go slack after a moment. "Oh, this is an NCR knot."
"Does that really matter right now?!" Alena said as Mara began rocking from side to side.
"It does." Mara said, smiling as she started rocking back and forth bringing both her and the chair closer to tipping over. "Remember when I said my brothers would tie me up and throw me in the pond? Well sometimes if they were lazy they'd use NCR knots and just…tie…me…to…a chair!"
Mara succeeded and tipped over the chair, falling onto the ground and using the slight bounce of her landing to wrench herself into a roll. Alena's eyebrows shot up as she watched her friend twist and contort her body until through some act of flexibility she rolled away from the chair, her bindings slipped. With a grunt, Mara hopped to her feet and gave a bow as if she was an acrobat who'd just performed a stunt.
"Remind me to thank your brothers some day." Alena said, as Mara untied her.
"Well, most of them are dead." Mara said as she looked around the room. "Who's kidnapped us and why am I in a dress?"
"Long story, most of it I don't know." Alena said, stepping around the desk. "We need to find a way out of here or to contact my father."
"Good idea." Mara said, shaking her head and lightly slapping her face.
"Are you okay?." Alena asked as she started opening all of the drawers, only to find them full of either boring office supplies or disturbing pictures that made her close the drawers without looking further.
"Just haven't been kidnapped like this before and I'm trying not to scream." Mara said, her breathing fast and hitching.
"Mara." Alena said walking around the desk to hug wrap the smaller girl in a hug. "We're going to be okay, my father will save us but first we need to find our way out. To do that we have to stay strong, I know you can do that Mara, you're the strongest person I know."
"Okay." Mara said, forcing deep breathes in through her nose as they broke the hug. "I can do that."
"Good to see the warrior I know is still here." Alena said, smiling at her friend before grabbing the letter opener, actually more of a throwing knife now that she held it, off the desktop. "Come on, the first step is to get out of this room and figure out where we are."
"Then kill the bastard who put us in these dresses?" Mara asked as they crept towards the door.
"Maybe." Alena said as she turned the doorknob and found that it was unlocked. "Depends on if my father gets here first or not."
"The last of the guests are rolling in now and are waiting for you to commence the celebration." Lenore said as she walked down the hall with her father and sister. "Well, most of them anyway, three members of senate got the wrong vaccine and another shot himself after seeing his brother in law's family succumb to the agent."
"Good, should make the spread last a bit longer." Vorhees said, smiling as if he'd just won a sports bet. "How's my speech coming?"
"Pamela's finishing it up now, should play well." Lenore explained as her father came to a stop to look out over the compound.
"Hm, looks like a storm's coming." He said, gaze locked on an angry storm system a few miles out from the facility's walls. "Might get the boys out on watch some parkas. What's the word on the agent's spread?"
"Our watchers are reporting mass exposure and casualties are already mounting." Lenore said, focusing on the storm's edge to avoid looking at her father's smile. "Richard's projections are holding true despite his defection, and we'll see the full results in twenty four hours."
"He'll get his." Vorhees said. "From us or what's left of those degenerates in the Mojave once he spills the beans."
"You think he'll talk?" Lenore asked as she picked up movement in the shadow of the storm front.
"Richard's a weak little man who's been crying over his whore daughter for decades now." Vorhees said, turning and walking away from the window. "His precious conscience is kicking in and he'll give them all the info they need to hang him. Too bad his mutie grand son is dead, would have made for a fun report detailing the bastard's neck getting stretched by his own spawn. What was his reaction when he looked through the pictures by the way? God to have been a fly on the Dam."
"Angry but controlled, told me to give you a message but I've been so caught up with the other preparations that I forgot to tell you." Lenore explained, a chill passing through as she looked away from the storm and followed her father. "He told me to tell you that he was coming for you, that the game was rigged from the start."
"And look who's brains got scattered all over the dam and who's going to be sucking down crab legs in a few minutes." Vorhees said, chuckling. "He had his mother's tongue that's for sure, bitch always did bark more than she could bite."
"Yeah." Lenore said as they reached the entry way into the dining hall where their guests waited. "Dad, if you don't mind do you think I can station the Muto squad on the perimeter just to get them out of the way and shore up the walls?"
"Expecting an attack?" Vorhees asked, pausing in the doorway. "Do what you want sweetie, put our mutts out to play if it makes you feel better. Those things need the exercise anyway."
"Thanks dad." She said, watching him slip through the door way before turning back to watch the coming storm. "Something tells me they might get more than a little exercise tonight."
?
"Where does that door lead?" Mara asked as they hugged a corner and stared at two NCR soldiers guarding an exit door.
"Out." Alena said, pressing herself against the wall. "Places like this are old military. Used to go scavenging with my cousins and almost all of them had courtyards with many ways in and out. Just like that one."
The pair had slipped into the concrete halls and made their way through what turned out to be a sprawling maze. Thankfully, the NCR was somewhat competent and put signs at every junction and it was a simple matter of following them to find their way to an exit. Remembering everything her father and the hunters of the village taught her, Alena set a careful pace through the halls both her and Mara's senses on alert for anyone who might discover them. Unfortunately, while the NCR's competent sign placement was helpful their equally competent placement of guards at the facility's exit was not.
"Alright, we have a letter opener between the two of us." Mara said, sizing the two men up. "They have pistols on their hips and muscles we don't have. How are we going to play this?"
"Don't know." Alena said, pulling back from the corner to look around the hall until he gaze stopped on the door to a janitor's closet. "I have an idea though, come on."
Quietly, they crept across the hall and slipped into the janitor's closet where Alena found racks of chemical cleaners and a mop bucket. Smiling, she sorted through the chemicals and mentally went over the list of things her father had taught her never to mix together unless she needed to make a bomb on short notice. Eventually she selected a bottle of bleach with her hand and a bottle of rubbing alcohol with her teeth, and brought them over to Mara.
"Bleach and rubbing alcohol makes chloroform." Alena explained after tossing the bottle of rubbing alcohol to Mara . "Chloroform gas."
"What's chloroform?" Mara asked as Alena put the bleach bottle on the ground and opened it.
"Noxious gas that makes it hard to breath and will knock you out if its strong enough." Alena said, taking the alcohol from Mara's hand. "If we mix it right and put the lid on in time the gas will build inside until it explodes, spreading the gas and hopefully knocking out the guards."
"And if it doesn't?" Mara asked.
"We've got the letter opener and they'll be having trouble filling their lungs." Alena said, looking her friend in the eyes. "Are you ready?"
"Yes." Mara said, her knuckles going white around the handle of the letter opener.
"Good." Alena said, popping the lid off the bottle of rubbing alcohol. "Because I wouldn't want to go into battle with anyone else."
Alena poured in some of the alcohol and with Mara's help got the cap on and sealed. Together they crept across the hall and peeked around the corner as the bottle warmed and vibrated in her hand, the plastic warping as gas built up inside. Taking a deep breath and pulling the neck of her dress over her mouth and nose, Alena waited for a few moments longer before she tossed the bottle down the hall and ducked back behind the corner. She heard the men shout something before they were interrupted by a loud pop and a sweet smell filled the air. Nodding to Mara, Alena rounded the corner and found both guards on the ground with one slumped against the wall with a bloody gash from where he'd struck his head on a pipe and the other vomiting into a trash bin.
She waved Mara forward and together they rushed to the door, slowing only to wrench it open and slip through. They stepped out onto a catwalk overlooking tightly packed military buildings separated by small access streets. Alena looked out over the buildings to the far wall of the compound where she could just make out the outline of a side gate. Beyond that wall was rubble speckled wasteland and an angry storm, coiling clouds and twisting tongues of lightning spreading out from the horizon like a tidal wave.
"There's a gate." Mara said, following Alena's sight line. "We can escape into the storm."
"Exactly what I was thinking." Alena said, barely taking a moment to let the plan settle before dashing across catwalk running to slide down a ladder.
She hit the ground and pivoted, darting into the protection of the buildings with Mara close behind. They crept between the buildings, thanking their respective gods for the storm that brought darkness as it rolled over the base and encouraged the admittedly light patrols to take shelter. Not that they needed much of an excuse, because from what Alena saw most of them were caught up in celebrating the NCR's victory. Flasks, bottles, and smoldering cigarettes were freely passed around as they dined on heaping portions food, every one of them singing the praises of the general.
"Bastards think they've won." Mara snarled as they slipped between the buildings. "We'll show them, once we get back home my dad's gonna burn this place to the ground."
"My father will-" Alena said, trailing off as they rounded a corner and came face to face with an NCR soldier taking cover underneath an overhang.
They looked at each other for a long moment. The soldier had a half empty bottle of whiskey in one hand and bags under his eyes that accented the grief as obvious in the man as the smell of whiskey was on his clothes. He looked them over and his gaze lingered on their mud stained dresses for a moment before he looked Alena in the eye and sighed.
"You're two of Vorhee's girls, aren't you?" He asked, taking a drink from his bottle before pointing down an alley. "That way will take you to the exit I was supposed to be guarding. Door code's six six one four."
"You're helping us?" Alena asked.
"Looking the other way." He said, stumbling off. "Tired of burying little girls."
Alena looked to Mara and after she nodded the pair darted down the alley way and eventually coming to a small personnel gate barely large enough for foot traffic built into a corner of the compound's wall. As rain began to fall and lightning lit up the sky, Alena and Mara slipped across the muddy ground to the door's key pad where true to his word, the soldier's door code unlocked the door with a clunk. A tremor passed through Alena as she pushed the door open and she gazed out across the open landscape, barely visible in the rain. They were going to get out and go home.
"Alena." Mara hissed, tugging on her sleeve.
She turned around and her blood went cold as she saw a nine foot tall mountain of a man standing not ten feet away from them. He was the monster that had taken them in Colorado Alena realized as she saw the black combat armor damaged from where she'd stabbed him and the blood red visor over his eyes. Behind that visor she saw eyes that hated her, wanted nothing more than to end her life with all the violence her body could take before breaking. Alena stepped forward, putting her body between Mara and the monster as she stared it down. An inkling of an idea tickled at the back of her mind, she remembered the descriptions of the monster that had ripped her father's arm off and how it died after his blood got on its skin.
"Mara, I want you to run while I buy you time." Alena said, plucking the knife from Mara's fingers and running it over her palm, letting the blood coat the blade. "Go and get my father. Get help."
"No." Mara said, picking a sharp rock up off the ground and handing it to Alena. "We're sisters Alena, we leave together or not at all."
Alena's reply was throwing the rock at the thing's visor where it smashed into the red glass, cracking it. Then the pair split up, each running in an arc at the monster with Mara scooping up another rock up off the ground while Alena readied the knife. Mara let loose her rock, sending it flying through the air to smash into the still exposed wound on the thing's leg, making it step back a step and focus its gaze Mara. With a battle cry that was swallowed by the storm, Alena pivoted and translated the momentum of the motion into the blade as it left her fingers. It curved through the air and pierced through the fractured visor and into the monster's eye. The beast screamed and fell back, its head ballooning in size as an amorphous growth spread down over its body until it was on the ground with blood streaming from its mouth piece. Alena skidded to a stop a few feet from it and watched as it let one last pained shudder before falling still in the mud.
"Freeze!"
Alena looked up to see a group of at least ten NCR soldiers streaming in around them, their weapons drawn. She raised her hands as hopelessness fell around her again. They'd been so close, just a few more minutes and they'd have made it through the gate. Yet, just as that hopeless thought came to her she saw a speck of orange, no, dozens of oranges specks of light come streaking down across the sky. All around them, huge whit cylinders on spikes crashed into the ground and buildings sending the soldiers surrounding them reeling back as burst of orange light bloomed from the cylinders, blinding Alena. When her vision returned they were surrounded, but not by NCR soldiers Alena realized. A group of five people stood around them now, forming a protective circle around the girls.
"Ready... steady... fighty!" A monotone computer voice said as Alena realized who was standing with his back to her, his modified armor crawling with hundreds of his Legionaries.
"Father." She said, collapsing to the ground at the sight of him.
"Hello Sprocket." He said, turning to look at her with eyes just like her own, just one of the drastic changes she was noticing. "Sorry I'm late."
He was different now, taller and more filled out despite still possessing a lean frame. The armor clinging to his body was reinforced with flexo armor plates just visible beneath his duster and as the rain fell around him Alena noticed that the Legionaries, his tiny robots, were beginning to form rings and floating around in a protective haze. His arms no longer glinted and gleamed, but seemed to have taken on an almost organic texture with his veins of green snaking their way across what had once been metal. And the way he moved had changed too, gone was the limp and the obvious fatigue now replaced by a grace that even as he stood still was obviously unnatural. Her father had become something new, evolved into a whole new being like her Aunt Roxanne was with her super human strength and nigh unbreakable skin.
"You're alive." She whispered, tear of relief welling in her eyes. "You're alive!"
"I've told you." He said, giving her a smile before turning back the soldiers. "Us Crasters don't die easy."
"You're god damned right!" Roxanne yelled, shadow boxing the air with her brass knuckled fists, obvious bandages beneath the combat armor chest piece she wore.
Alena looked all around her. Not only were here father and aunt among them, but there was also Aunt Veronica, Miss Shepard, and ED-E standing alongside them. The soldiers noticed them too as they regrouped, readying their weapons and eying the group as one of them, their commander maybe, came forward. His side arm was aimed at her father's chest and without looking him in the eye the officer said:
"Put your weapons down and surrender!"
"Hear that?" Father said, letting the crack and tremors of not too distant gun fire and explosions rise above the sound of the storm. "Right now there's four hundred of the most hardened ex legionnaires ripping through your base from the east and three hundred Securitrons shredding through your comrades from the west. So how about you put your weapons down?"
"Don't bother with checking your radio." Veronica said, her grip tightening on the hammer. "We're jamming them."
"I have my orders and my people to protect." The officer said, his grip shaky as he tried to keep his weapon up.
"You have a life to protect too." Father said, stepping forward with his gaze locked onto the officer's eyes. "Put your weapons down and you get to see tomorrow. Last chance."
They stared at each other for a long moment, the officer's lip quivering and her father's gaze holding until the soldier broke and lowered his gun.
"Lower your weapons." He ordered his men, many of whom did after her father gave them a look.
"Good boys, I'll be sure to tell your owner how obedient you were." Father said, producing a trigger from his duster. "Now smile for the camera."
He activated the trigger and the soldiers disappeared in a burst of orange light leaving them alone in the courtyard with the monster's bloated corpse. Before she could process that, Alena was in her father's arms and he was holding her so tight that she could barely breath. She didn't care though, even in the rain she felt safe in his arms as his warmth seeped into her muscles, releasing tension that she'd been carrying since their kidnapping. After a few minutes, he pulled back and looked her in the eyes.
"Did he hurt you or Mara?" He asked.
"No….he was saving us for after the party." She said, shaking her head. "We escaped before he could come back for us."
"Good girls." He said, a relieved smile breaking through the calm mask he'd put on for the soldiers. "Okay, I'm sending you back to Big Mt where Jack and Tyrone are waiting for you. Dr. Mordin and Arcade are going to be there too so if you're hurt say something got it?"
"No!" Mara yelled. "We're finishing this with you! We killed that monster there, so why can't we-"
Mara was cut off as a flash of light teleported her away.
"She's going to be angry." Father said, turning back to Alena. "She's going to need you."
"I know father." She said, hugging him tighter. "Thank you for saving us."
"I will always be there for you Alenam, remember that." Her father said before clicking the button again and sending her away in a flash of orange.
?
Sylas Regier's evening had gone to shit. Not only had Vorhee's snubbed him from a choice seat near the spread but he was also forced to sit next to Brent Buxton all night, a prospect that made him wish he'd scheduled root canal instead. The blathering idiot had been a useful pawn of course, Sylas was looking forward to controlling a vast swathe of the Mojave thanks to the dope's help but that didn't change the fact that he hated the ridiculous Texan. Maybe he could talk Vorhees into executing the man, maybe have him strangled by his own snake skin pants.
"Problems Sylas?" Buxton asked, watching Sylas with cold curiosity as he cleaned the lenses of a thick pair of sunglasses. "You're looking a little put upon, partner."
"Just ready for another drink." Sylas said looking around for one of the servers.
"Last I heard, Vorhees wants us all sober for his speech." Buxton said, slipping his sunglasses on despite the fact the room was only barely properly lit. "Doesn't want hecklers you see."
"Can't he just shoot them instead of keeping me from drinking?" Sylas scoffed before narrowing his eyes at Buxton. "Why on earth are you wearing sunglasses right now?"
"Complete the look I'm going for." Buxton explained.
Sylas was about to reply to that when the lights got dimmer and he looked to the raised table at the front of the room. Vorhees had appeared with his older daughter at his side and a thick piece of paper in his hands. Sighing, Sylas wished he had a whole bottle of hooch to himself now. He'd known Vorhees for years now and quite possibly the worst part of the man's personality was his insistence on self indulgent speeches.
"Ladies and gentlemen, it's an honor to be standing her with all of you tonight." Vorhees began, his voice crackling through two huge speakers. "It has been a long road we've walked, decades of the NCR rotting from within thanks to weak fools elected by idiots has robbed us of our strength and our purity. Mutants and soft hearted men have squandered the first organized modern military since the great war and allowed Brahmin fucking barons to divert our strength away from the true prizes. It is thanks to this weakness, this corruption, that we lost the Mojave and have paid for it every day of the last three years as the Mojave grew stronger by the day. The very people we protected from Caesar's legion, the people we fed, the people we graciously offered civilization to are the people who spat in our face and hoarded the wealth for themselves. All the while uplifting mutants, genetically impure humans, and even aliens while neglecting the first true government the post war world has ever seen. Through their trade and currency they hoped to cripple us and dilute the purity of the human genome further and further until you couldn't tell the difference between the masters of the world and the parasites suckling at out teats."
"But no more!" Vorhees yelled, snatching a glass of champagne off a server's tray without missing a beat. "Today our efforts have not only crippled the Mojave but through the work of good old NCR science the mutts in our own population have been cleansed, sacrificed so that our children may inherit a human future. A future where the pure mend the land and upon it build what humanity was always mean to inherit, heaven on earth free from mutation and the junk genes of what you could call humans if you allowed bleeding heart delusions to blind you. So my friends, I propose a toast to the purity of the human race and the beginning of a new world order."
"Ahem!" Buxton cleared his throat loud enough to stop Vorhees mid way through raising his glass. "May I ask something, compadre?
"It seems one of our patriot friends from the Mojave would like to add to my toast." Vorhees said, glaring at Buxton. "Since I'm in a good mood I think I will let you speak, Buxton."
"Mighty kind of you." Buxton said, tipping his hat to Vorhees as he plucked his bolo tie off of his fat chest and palming it. "Now, I'm a recent convert to the plan so mind you I might just be a bit out of the loop, but I want clarification on something. What in the sam hill do you mean when you said you "cleansed" the NCR?"
The crowd chuckled nervously at the question.
"Well, the official story is that the Mojave poisoned an anti pest agent approved by the NCR congress and we just didn't catch it in time." Vorhees said, humoring the fat man. "You know what motivates a soldier more than pussy or money? Vengeance. And what more holy a crusade than one avenging near six hundred thousand people, slain by the mutants and degenerates to the east."
"Wow." Buxton said, the color draining from his face as he processed the admission.
"It was quite the endeavor mind you, and you played your part perfectly." Vorhees said, eyes gleaming with predatory instinct. "So sit down and enjoy the rest of your evening Mr. Buxton."
"No." Buxton said, his lips a thin line as he stared Vorhees in the eye and pressed the gem on the bolo in with a click. "I think I'll stand for your execution you yellow bellied sum bitch!"
Buxton tossed the bolo into the air where it seemed to hang for a moment before letting out a blue pulse of energy that washed over everyone in the room. Armed guards swarmed out from the edges of the dining hall to surround Buxton who raised his hands as he smiled at Vorhees. The bolo fell to the table and with a loud thunk broke in two revealing a complex internal machine that Sylas barely got a good look at before the power went out.
"EMP!" One of the soldiers shouted as the sound of gun fire joined the boom of thunder outside.
"Not exactly son." Buxton said, nodding his head to the bolo.
"Kill him!" Vorhees ordered, glaring at Buxton who simply smirked in return.
The guard aimed his gun at Buxton's head and froze.
"Not an EMP but a clever little doo hickey called and anti aggression field." Buxton explained, lowering his hands to take off his sunglasses. "Lasts about an hour and only works if you look at it with unshielded eyes, but since y'all were looking at me I don't think that's gonna be a problem."
Then multiple explosions rocked the dining hall and through the windows Sylas saw the orange glow of fire rising. The other soldiers tried and failed to execute Buxton, and even attempts to grab him failed as their hands seemingly lost their grip strength the moment they touched. Buxton on the other hand could slap, poke, and pinch them all he liked. Which he did, gradually pushing through the confused troopers back until he was eye to eye with a red faced Vorhees.
"Now you sum bitch." Buxton said, drawing a pistol from his belt and aiming it at Vorhees. "Move an inch before the Courier gets here and I turn into swiss cheese."
"The Courier is dead!" Vorhees yelled impudently trying to draw his own pistol only for it to remain holstered, as if it had been glued to the leather.
"I've been dead before Vorhees." A chillingly calm voice said, echoing through the hall and turning Sylas' blood to ice. "People really should stop thinking that shooting me in the head is a good strategy."
He turned his head to find Rex Craster standing in the entry way, his duster blood red and the muzzles of two over sized pistols in his hands glowing red hot. The Courier looked like something out of Sylas' nightmares, tall and lean like a predator, his metal arms now somehow organic looking with glowing green veins snaking across them. Hundreds of tiny black motes coiled around him, forming spirals and rings that undulated in the air and snapped at the dinner guests as he walked into the room. His grey eyes, once so piercing they could look a man down to his bones were now wider and seemingly morphed into a triple iris pattern that took in the entire room, judging every soul in a glance.
"Ho…how?" Vorhees asked, the first tremble of terror seeping into his voice.
"What can I say?" The Courier said, looking Sylas in the eye. "You chose the wrong man for the job, still astounds me that you managed to stick your dicks into not one but two honey pots."
"Buxton was working with you from the start." Sylas said.
"Rex here and I have been friends since he saved my daughter from a deathclaw years ago." Buxton said, tipping his hat to Rex. "Ever since I've been a business partner and friend, even if we don't see eye to eye on everything."
"Buxton was the shadow investor in my gun shop." Rex said, blowing Sylas a kiss before turning to Vorhees. "Both he and Boone have been excellent informants on your plans to strike the Mojave, and a few defectors brainwashed with a Mesmer before we allowed them to leave of course."
"So you think you-" Vorhees began before a bullet atomized his wind pipe.
The room fell into a stunned silence as the great general who'd orchestrated their master plan fell to the ground, a bloody mess where his head used to be.
"I'm not in the mood for negotiations today." The Courier said, holstering his gun and turning to walk away. "If any of you leave this room or so much as look at my people the wrong way you will be shot."
With that he and Buxton left the room, leaving behind a dead general and a room full of people who'd just killed their country for the utopia he promised.