A Kiss To Build A Dream On
Cynthia put on her black cowboy hat, left her tent, and beheld the city of her birth.
She stood on a small hill, overlooking the great walled town, an entire NCR army swarming around her to prepare for the battle they'd been working toward for nearly six months. Cynthia walked through them, people swerving around her like she projected a force field, making way for the general of the eastward campaign. She made her way to a ridge, where a man with a red beret lay prone, sniper rifle trained on Flagstaff. The red bull flying off the ruins of Northern Arizona University began to climb down as Cynthia sat beside Boone.
"What's happening?" she asked.
"Don't know. Been watching all night. Lots of flashes in that building, pops. Think they're changing management," Boone replied, peering through the scope.
"Well that'll disappoint Moore," Cynthia said.
"Moore, huh?" Cass asked, dropping down on the other side of Boone. "What about you? Don't you want these fuckers dead?"
"You're distracting me," Boone said through grit teeth.
"Too bad, sniper boy," Cass said, leaning back. "So, Cynthia, what do we do if they don't wanna fight?"
"We call 'em smart, and we look for the ones who escaped our last attacks. Anyone who needs to be brought to justice," Cynthia said. "And then I head inside and do what I came here to do."
"Thought you came to kill shitheads," Cass said.
"That's part of it. But like I said. I need to watch the Legion end, and only I can really make it happen," Cynthia said, taking the anti-materiel rifle from her back and lying down beside Boone.
"Got yourself kind of a big head, don'tcha?" Cass asked.
"It'll only end for me when I make it end," Cynthia said, lifting her sunglasses atop her forehead, closing one eye and looking through her scope. "You wouldn't understand."
"You say that too much," Cass complained.
"Hold on, you two," Boone said. "Something's happening."
Up the flagpole came a great white sheet, flapping somewhat limply in the dusty Arizona wind.
"Fuck," Cass complained.
"The doors are opening. Let's get down there," Cynthia said, standing and slinging the rifle across her back again.
"Another day I don't die. Maybe you're good luck, Courier," Boone said cryptically.
"Boone, you creep me out," Cass said.
"Great. Does that mean you won't talk over my head when I'm trying to snipe?"
"Fuck no."
"Glad we understand each other."
They followed the Courier, and the army, down to the great scrap-metal gates of Flagstaff.
By the time Cynthia reached the gates, a great crowd of desert camouflage surrounded whatever Legion leader had come forth. Despite her great height, too many faces - including Moore's - were blocking the way for her to see exactly who she was dealing with. She carefully navigated the crowd, not wanting to make a fuss - until she saw him, through a gap in the sea of soldiers.
She tore through the crowd, shoving them away, a path clearing as people realized what was happening.
"We're willing to give up-" the Legion leader said, and then he said nothing at all, as Cynthia grabbed him by the throat and shoved him into the Flagstaff walls.
"Six!" Moore shouted. "Stand dow-" A revolver cocked behind her ear.
"Let her do her thing," Cass suggested, holding the pistol to Moore's head.
"Who the hell-" the balding, white-haired Centurion gasped, then choked as Cynthia's grip tightened.
"You don't remember me? Huh? The little prize Caesar would give out? Huh? The one he named as some sick joke?" Cynthia hissed. "Don't you, Darius? Don't you remember me?"
"Who-who-"
Cynthia tore her sunglasses off her face with her free hand. "You don't remember Artemis?"
Darius' blue eyes widened, his face pulling back in shock. "You!"
"Damn right, you son of a bitch. I remember what you did to me. Every bruise, every cut, every chain. Every pathetic little attempt at being dominant, every abuse, every rape." Cynthia dropped her sunglasses to the ground, pulling a revolver from her hip.
"God- I'm sorry, I had to, it was expected of a Cent-"
"Shut up! Shut the fuck up!" Cynthia shouted, spit flying from her mouth and striking him in the face. "You have no excuse for what you did." She heard a rustling of armor and weapons to her right.
"Cynthia, the Legionaries are getting a little pissed," Cass warned.
"They can appoint a new leader, we've got them outgunned," Boone said coldly, silently slipping to the front of the crowd. "They won't move on her. Right, fellas?"
The Legion in the army didn't move a muscle.
Cynthia pulled her revolver up to Darius' face, her hand shaking, breath hot as it left her lips. "You. You and every motherfucker like you. Maybe the little baby Legionaries can be salvaged. But Centurions? They're all gonna fucking die, because they pleased Caesar, and that means they did something horrible. There are no exceptions. You will all pay for what you've done."
She threw Darius to the ground, his head slamming into the earth. She grabbed him by the wispy white hair that just barely still covered his head, then struck him with her revolver, knocking him back to the dirt. She stepped back, let him get to his knees, facing her.
"Please," he whispered, blood bubbling on his lips, "stop."
"You never did," she said, and fired one clean shot into his forehead.
The echoes rang out, and Cynthia whipped her head towards the Legion, still hanging in the gates. "Bring out your Centurions. We'll deal with them. The rest of you may go free so long as your slaves are freed, and if I ever hear anything about slavery in the East again..." Cynthia trailed off.
The Legion hesitated, and then broke into chaos as Centurions were pushed forward through the crowd.
Boone and Cynthia handled the executions, while a Legionnaire talked with Moore about peace treaties and other things the Courier cared nothing for. When it was done, she walked into Flagstaff, and let Cass follow behind her.
Cass lagged behind the Courier, shying away from the woman who seemed to have the most intimidating walk on the planet. Her stride was long, purposeful, her turns sharp and deliberate - she seemed to remember the place like it was yesterday. It was only when she reached a cylindrical building, holes patched over with scrap metal, that she slowed. It was blood-red, the golden bull sitting squarely above the doors, as though waiting.
Cass caught up to her. The Courier stood stock-still for a moment, breathing raggedly. Cass put a hand on her shoulder.
"You okay?" she asked gently.
"I will be," Cynthia said, steeling herself. "This is it, you know. The harem."
"Oh, God...Cynthia, you don't have to-"
"I do." Cynthia sucked in air through her teeth. "I wonder if any of them are still here. Hera, Io, Athena...if they've been here the whole time I've been gone."
"You...you said your name was Artemis, right?'
"My slave name. Don't know what my mom called me, not anymore. Caesar's idea of a joke, naming us all after goddesses, so it'd be funnier when they took us women down to size." Cynthia spat. "Piece of shit."
"Cynthia..."
"I'm going in. Come if you want." The Courier walked forward, leaving Cass to follow.
The Courier put a hand on one of the double doors, and paused for a moment, feeling the wood through her glove. She drew in a deep breath, then pushed inward, revealing the main room. A light flashed erratically in the center of the room, illuminating a circle of red carpet festooned with beds and pillows of the same color. Several men lay dead on the floor, half-naked, their blood dampening the ground beneath Cynthia's feet.
"Well, this isn't quite how I remember it," she said, looking around. She kicked at one of the bodies, turning it over to see how he'd died. Several holes studded his chest.
"Think our girls made a run for it?" Cass asked.
"Maybe." Cynthia walked to the edge of the room, towards one of several wooden doors. "These were our quarters, let's see if anyone's left in them." She carefully pushed it inward, and saw a dark, messy room, but nothing to suggest anyone had been in there recently. She went from door to door, clockwise around the rotunda, until she pushed on one - and it failed to budge. She took her hat off, and put her ear to the door.
Someone was breathing, rather staggeringly, on the other side.
Cynthia stepped away from the center of the door, reached over, and knocked twice. A gunshot blew a chunk of the door out, making Cass jump and curse.
"Stay away!" a quavering voice warned.
"We're here to-" Cass said, but Cynthia held a finger to her lips, then stood in front of the door and peered through the new hole.
"I'm warning you," the woman on the other side said, holding her shotgun to her hip.
"You'll break an arm like that, Juno," Cynthia said.
"Who the hell are you?" Juno asked, leveling the shotgun at the door. The flickering light illuminated messy black hair and bright green eyes, a full-cheeked face twisted in anger and suspicion.
"She's a woman, you dumbfuck, she's not here to-" Cass began, but Cynthia hissed out "Shh!" to stop her.
"It's me, Juno. I don't know if you're too young to remember, but..." Cynthia sighed. "Is it just you?"
"Is that-" another voice said.
"Quiet!" Juno hissed.
"No, Juno, I think...those eyes," the other voice insisted, an older woman's tones. A middle-aged face suddenly popped up and blocked Cynthia's view of Juno.
"Io!" Cynthia exclaimed, her face breaking into a sudden smile.
"Artemis?" Io whispered, reaching a hand through the hole, touching the Courier's face. "It can't be, they told us you died!"
Cynthia took Io's hand in both of hers, pressing down on it. "I'm here. And you're all going to be free. Could you open the door?"
"This could be a trap," Juno warned.
"I remember Artemis," Io snapped. "She would never trick us. Just a second." Io moved away from the door, and Cynthia stepped back. A great screeching and dragging sound caused both the Courier and her companion to cover their ears, only barely being able to make out the sounds of more than a pair of footsteps scurrying about.
Juno was first out of the door, still holding her shotgun and aiming at Cynthia. "Okay, 'Artemis', who the hell are you and why should I care?"
Cynthia took off her hat, holding it in one hand. "God, you were only thirteen, or maybe fifteen, but..."
"Hold on a second." Juno's eyes narrowed. "You do look a little familiar."
"I was one of you." Cynthia looked directly into Juno's eyes. "You're sure you don't-"
Io came out of the door behind Juno, and pushed past her, rushing to embrace the Courier. Cynthia caught the small, frail-looking woman and squeezed her as hard as she could. "Io..." she said, a blush rising in her cheeks.
"You shut up. I thought you were dead," Io said into her shoulder. She stepped back. "You've gotten strong. And big."
"The amount of shit I carry everywhere, you have to have a lot of muscle," Cynthia said with a shrug.
Io looked to Cass. "Another redhead?" She put a hand on her hip. "Didn't you learn your lesson last time?"
"Hey, we're not together," Cass said irritably.
"Oh, sure," Io said, winking at Cynthia.
Juno gasped. "Oh, holy shit, you were Leona's girl!" she exclaimed, lowering her gun.
Cynthia put her hat back on. "Yes, I was. And it's Cynthia now, just so you know," she said. "I'd love to catch up with..." A small crowd had gathered in the doorway, a collection of women who looked too scared to step out into the light. Cynthia smiled. "...all of you girls, but I need to do something here first. Go to the gates, there's an army there, ready to help you or take you home with them - and they're good people. Find the guy with the red beret, tell him I sent you. Take anything you need to keep with you."
"We haven't got anything but the clothes on our backs," Io said. "Just like always. Promise me that I'll see you again."
"Of course, Io. I'm sure we'll be kicking around for some years yet. I'll catch up with you later."
"C'mon, ladies," Juno said, turning to face the crowd. "Let's get out of here." As she walked out with the group, she stopped and kicked a dead Legionnaire in the crotch before leaving. Cynthia tipped her hat to Io, who scurried off after them.
"See you later, Cynthia!" she called happily, and then the door shut, leaving Cass and the Courier alone in the harem.
The electric buzz filled the air, Cynthia staring down at the floor, at a large dark stain, at nothing at all. Her shoulders sagged, as though a heavy weight had just been placed on her back.
"Cynthia?" Cass asked, walking over to her. "You okay?"
Cynthia didn't respond, reaching into her coat for a pack of cigarettes and an engraved lighter. "Io was like a mother to me," she said, placing a cigarette in her mouth. "I didn't even dare to hope that she'd be alive. I thought that once I escaped they'd kill her, everyone knew that me and her were close. She was the first person I ever told, about the way I felt towards some of the other girls. After that, she...looked out for me, tried to make sure I was never chosen, put herself out there in my place sometimes, say I was sick. Stuff that should've gotten her killed." With a sigh, she flicked open the lighter and held it to the cigarette. She took a long drag.
"So what are you here to do, anyway?" Cass asked.
Cynthia breathed out a long cloud of smoke before responding. "You had to see your past destroyed, right? Had to see it for yourself."
"So..."
"So do I." Cynthia stuck the cigarette between her teeth and opened her coat up, showing Cass the C-4 that she'd strapped into it.
"Holy shit!" Cass leapt back. "And you let me-"
Cynthia chuckled. "It's just so I could store them, you idiot," she said. "I'm not gonna kill myself, or you."
Cass relaxed. "Oh."
Cynthia began to take out the explosives, tossing every other block to Cass. "Put them around the supports," she ordered, taking the remaining half for herself. "You do that side, I'll do this one."
They set about their work in silence, Cynthia puffing on her cigarette the entire time. Once Cass called out "Done!", Cynthia moved towards the exit, letting Cass run to catch up with her outside of the harem. They emerged onto the street and found it occupied by an NCR squad - and a cameraman. Cynthia grit her teeth at the first flash.
"Just ignore them, Cynthia," Cass urged. "Let's blow this fucking thing."
The Courier turned to face the harem, took her cigarette out, and flicked it, making it land just within the doorway. She pulled a small black detonator from the inside pocket of her coat, put her thumb on the button. She took a deep breath.
The blast nearly knocked over the cameraman, and even Cynthia staggered backward as the building collapsed in on itself, a horrific crashing of metal and masonry. She stared into the destruction unblinkingly, eyes watering.
"Cynthia?" Cass asked, looking up at her.
The Courier began to shake, tears running down her cheeks, hands curled into fists at her sides.
"Hey..." Cass's voice was a whisper. She reached up, touched Cynthia's face. "Hey, look at me." She turned the Courier's face down, away from the ruins of her old life. She looked into those pale blue eyes, shining with tears. "It's okay," Cass said quietly, "you did it. The Legion's gone."
Cynthia choked, blinked once, then threw her arms around Cass. She leaned down and gave her a long, deep kiss, tasting of salt and grime, and every bit worth returning.
A flashbulb went off, and the photographer got his magnum opus. "A Kiss To Build A Dream On" made its way back to Vegas and the Mojave, across NCR territory, throughout former Legion land. A symbol of a new beginning, of hope, a way to begin without slavery or brutality.
Yet that would be the last most would see of the Courier and her cowgirl companion, at least those who had known them before. For she needed a purpose after Flagstaff, and she remembered the words of Ulysess - tales that she had walked the West, a time in her life that had been erased by a bullet.
What had she left there? Could she have another Divide, another community in peril for her actions? She had a responsibility, and she intended to see it through - and Cass wouldn't leave her side for a moment.
Every once in a while, she'd show up back near the frontier, the moment any news about the NCR going astray caught her ear. And every time she reappeared, it was salutes and "yes, ma'am"s and apologizing for whatever wrong they'd done.
Courier Six - hero of the NCR, Caesar's bane, Mr. House's end, master of Big MT, savior of Zion - became a legend, a boogeyman of corruption. And when she passed away peacefully in her sleep, some fifty years later, the wicked and evil of the world continued to see her in their shadow for decades to come.
-THE END-