.
October 24th, 2281, 3:41 a.m.
Lucky 38, New Vegas
"Knock knock."
"Hey Cass, shouldn't you be resting?"
"You're one to talk… what are you lookin' at?"
"Digging through the Lucky 38's database."
"Finding anything?"
"A lot more than was there before… Now that the cyborg's out of the bag, I guess Denn decided to give us 'higher clearance' – blueprints for the Lucky 38, specifics on energy output, tons of stuff that I haven't seen yet. He probably intended to tell us about it tomorrow-"
"Today."
"Right… today… but I got restless and decided to have another look around the system."
"How can you stand all that technical mumbo-jumbo?"
"You get used to it."
"So what's this?"
"Schematics of the Securitron platform, designated PD-"
"You're up at four in the morning after being shot by a shotgun to look at pictures of robots?"
"Everyone has to have a hobby, and it's more than that. The Courier left notes in these files… there are tons of references to an 'Entrant Project' and also materials that are compatible with for something called 'matter transference."
"Matter transference?' Sounds like… wait… is it possible for that kind of thing to exist?"
"If it is what it sounds like? Not by any technology I have been exposed to… but at the same time, the Courier is a functioning cyborg with a 'brain' capable of imitating a psychological condition, so… apparently what I know about science is 'jack all."
"Aluminum, copper, iron… So if this list isn't bullshit, the Courier can turn any metal into steel?"
"Well… likely he could if he wanted to… but the Securitrons outer-plating is an entirely different alloy. Compositionally, it's like a metallic fabric, which is why they're able to repair themselves with their auto-repair system." "… Can you imagine the world before the apocalypse? Shit like the Securitrons and this 'matter transference' technology all over the place, and we still managed to blow ourselves to kingdom come."
"It wasn't all over the place… the United States only just developed the fusion reactor before the Great War, and they hoarded the discovery. They had the potential to stop the resource war, but they didn't. They used the invention against their enemies. So many discoveries just came too late. Fusion reactors, transistors, whatever this new technology Denn has available… they weren't created soon enough to save anything."
"We survived, though. It was one hell of a lesson, and I don't think we're liable to forget it for a long time."
"I'm not so sure…"
"Right… What about this 'Entrant Project?"
"Given the context… I think the Courier is designing his own robots. 'Entrant' is probably meant to mean 'new member,' in this situation."
"If he was going to leave his notes on the project in the database within different entries, why didn't he just include the project in its entirety?"
"It's not exactly plastered on the front or anything like that… I had to do quite a lot of digging to find everything. You're right, though, if he meant for the project to be a secret he would've just wiped every trace of it from the system."
"Maybe he wanted it to be found? I mean… he must've figured you would look into it at some point."
"Am I really that nosey?"
"I would say inquisitive… but yeah, pretty much."
"Weird… any ideas?"
"I think you'll have to ask him… but for the moment, all this techno-babble has removed any question I had on catching some sleep. Try to not stay up too late?"
"This isn't too late?"
"Fine… too too late."
.
.
Lucky 38, Cocktail Lounge
"It's quite a view."
Boone turned around and smiled at the elderly ghoul.
"Yeah… You can't sleep either?" the sniper asked.
"Naw… the old bones are acting up again," Raul replied. "Figured I'd take a walk and try and tucker myself out."
"Exercise just winds you up more. Here, take a seat."
"Don't mind if I do."
Raul leaned down onto the expansive couch and groaned quietly as the fabric shifted to accommodate him in the most delightful way. The city below the two shone up into the lounge's windows, casting brilliant reflections across the otherwise dark room.
"Hey, do you mind if I ask you a question?" Raul asked finally, shifting forward to sit on the edge of his seat and turn towards his companion.
"Go for it," Boone replied.
"Why didn't you say anything earlier? Not to pry… but it seems like a pretty world-changing thing; finding out Denn is a machine and all."
"Is it?"
"Well… yeah."
"I don't really see it that way. I mean… by the time you met me, I had already traveled with the Courier for close to a year. He went out of his way time and time again to help other people – myself included – no matter what it cost him personally or physically. When he came back, after dealing with all the shit that happened to him, what did he do? Kept helping people. For example… where did he find you again?"
"In a cell working as the handyman to a rather frustrated group of super mutants."
"And he got you out, right?"
"Well, as he tells it, he fixed a robot and it talked down the nightkin leader so the rest of the super mutants headed off towards Jacobstown… but that seems unlikely."
"Whatever he did… why? Why did he help you?"
"Well… he just… yeah, I get your point."
"He just helps people. He couldn't tell me why before, and he probably can't now. Besides, in my opinion it doesn't matter what he's got in his head; he's still as much a man as you or I."
"How do you figure?"
Boone leaned farther forward and gestured for the elderly ghoul to do the same. "Do you know what happened to the White Glove society?" the sniper asked quietly.
"The group of creepily masked weirdos?" Raul responded, matching Boone's volume. "Denn chased them out of the Mojave, right?"
"Yes, but do you know why?"
"No."
"It started after I had learned that Ursus was a 'former' Legion soldier. I told Denn to fuck off and came to the strip to drink myself into a coma. The White Glove society got a tip of who I was from a Legion Frumentarii – at the time they were trying to gain the favor of Caesar, so they drugged me and took me to their basement. You know before House they were cannibals, right? Well, when Denn took over the strip, they figured the chaos was the perfect time to fall into old habits. I woke up in a freezer chained to the wall with a corpse hanging on the other side of the room. Carved to pieces… a young woman, couldn't have been older than twenty."
"Jesus…"
"So I'm sitting there, dropping in and out of consciousness, and who should open the door but Ursus. At the time, I thought he had been informed of where I was and was there to finish me off. Half right, as it turns out; he had led Denn to me. He saved my life. As much as I wish it wasn't the case, that's the truth. Of course he was only able to because he was a Frumentarii agent waiting to double cross us… but I don't think it was personal."
"That's a level response."
"In the end it didn't mean shit of course. The Legion was and is too far-gone to deserve anything but destruction… and Ursus died for it, but I'm getting sidetracked. I'm there chained to the wall and Ursus walks in followed by the Courier. He makes sure I'm okay, and they start taking me down, when all of a sudden, Denn looks to the side and sees this woman – this girl butchered across the wall – and he just stops. He knew her. He's never said how, and I've never asked, but the way he was looking at her was the same way I looked at my wife when I killed her. That hell – that feeling of helplessness – knowing you've failed."
"Unfortunately, I can relate…"
"Your sister, my wife, Veronica's doctor, whoever that woman was to Denn. That loss – that grief followed instantly by rage – it's something the wasteland makes everybody experience… if they live in it long enough, that is. Machine, cyborg, whatever you want to label him as… in that moment, he was as human as its possible to be…"
.
.
Sarah.
They had taken her eyes, and half of her face had been peeled away, but there was no mistake… it was her.
"Denn?" Ursus asked quietly.
He wanted to go to her, to hold her, but she was gone. More than dead: they had torn at her, ripped into her… fed on her.
A quiet voice pulled through his stunned grief. You told her this could happen, you tried to protect her, you did everything you could-
NO, I DIDN'T.
The Courier turned and in an instant was back inside the kitchen. A small man started angrily as he walked into the room at the same time.
"How dare you break into my-"
The Courier picked up a butcher knife from the counter beside him and sent it flying through the air into the irate newcomer's chest. Denn walked forward as the man fell to his knees in shock and kicked his foot against the knife, completely embedding the massive blade into the man's sternum as he crumpled to the floor.
.
.
"Who told you who she was?!"
Mortimer shrieked in response, pain overwhelming his ability to reply, so the Courier threw him to the ground and slammed his foot into the screaming man's throat. Moving away from the twitching body, he stalked slowly towards the leader of the White Glove Society.
His target, Marjorie, was pressed against the exit to the room with a cluster of people behind her desperately trying to force the doorway open. Seizing a woman at the back of the group by the hair, the Courier threw her to the side, ripping a handful of blonde strands out in the process. A second member of the mob spun around and desperately raised his hardened cane to strike out against the Courier. Denn's blow against the man's jaw obliterated half of his face and snapped his head to the side so forcefully that he fell to the ground in a heap.
The rest of the White Glove Society dispersed, and as Marjorie tried to follow suit, the Courier seized her and slammed her back against the heavy wooden door.
"Who told you who she was?!"
"We… we didn't know she was anybody! She was given to us, a gift, we don't know from who!"
"You ate her. YOU FUCKING ATE HER!"
"Please… oh God, please…"
Ignoring her pleading, the Courier turned and carried her to the center of the chaotic dining area.
"QUIET!" the Courier roared, and the room fell silent. "Any White Glove Society member found in the Mojave by the end of tomorrow will be killed. You have twenty-six hours."
Turning his attention back to the woman in his arms, he took a running start and viciously threw her through the locked doors of the exit. The slam of the heavy wood crashing open was accompanied by the sound of a brutal snap.
The members of the White Glove Society rushed through the doorway, few of them bothering to step over their fallen leader. The Courier clenched his teeth, resisting the urge to chase after them, and it was only after the last masked individual had sprinted out of sight that he allowed himself to turn his attention back to the battered woman on the ground.
She was still moving.
As he approached, she pushed herself up, her face bruised and bleeding. "Please… I… I can't feel my legs," she whispered weakly.
The Courier kneeled down, his eyes meeting hers.
"Then you had better start crawling.
.
.
"Have you tried talking to him about what happened?"
"I wanted to, but… he just never stopped long enough, you know? After that night, he was everywhere. He infiltrated the Omertas and assassinated their leadership while at the same time locking down the Strip and rooting out all of Caesar's Frumentarii. At the time, I thought it was just a matter of time before he crashed, but… it never happened."
"I guess the whole part-machine thing explains that."
"Maybe… I kept waiting for him to slow down so I could talk things through, but he's always avoided the subject when I try to bring it up."
"He needs to confront it."
"I know… I just… don't know how to help."
Denn shut off his uplink, opening his eyes as the stream of his friend's conversation from elsewhere in the Lucky 38 faded from his mind. He had made his way to his personal quarters as he eavesdropped, but hesitated at the room's entryway. Finally, he keyed open the door and stepped inside. The Courier stood in silence as the lights within lit up automatically, revealing various relics that lined the shelved walls. His gaze landed on a snow globe in the corner or the room, and he walked towards it as if in a trance. Picking up the glass object, he gave it a small shake, stirring up the memento's contents as clouds of white flakes covered the miniature Vegas Strip contained within.
A few steps took him to a padded armchair, and as he sank down into the furniture, Denn did something he rarely allowed himself to do… he slept.
.
.
"Do you always have to sneak over here?"
"You know I do."
"I just never get any sleep when you're around."
"Are you complaining?"
"Well… only a little. Now scoot that chassis over and give me some more room."
"Hey, hold on. This isn't just a personal visit… I won't be able to come see you for awhile."
"What? Why not?"
"Things are getting too dangerous. If anybody finds out who you are to me…"
"And what's that?"
"A very special person."
"Oh, is that all-"
"No teasing; this is serious. They'll hurt you to get to me, and I have to protect you. It can't be too obvious, but I'll have two Securitrons at the opposite side of the street. If you ever feel like you're in danger, get to them as quickly as possible; they'll protect you."
"You haven't suggested I come to live with you in the Lucky 38."
"Because I know you'll say no. This is your home."
"I'm sorry… I know you worry, but…"
"I know. It's not something you can leave, and I can't lock you away like a princess in it."
"You're damn right you can't."
"So this is the best decision. Once I've negotiated with the White Glove Society and the Omertas, it should be safe enough to see you again… but until that time…"
"I know. Well, if that's all, I understand you have a busy schedule to get to."
"What?!"
"This was a business visit, right? Make sure to close the door on your way out."
"I said it wasn't just a personal visit! It can be both!"
"Oh? In that case…"
.
.
"Sarah!" Denn cried out, jolting up and causing the snow globe on his lap to hit the floor and roll away from him.
He could still feel her… her touch, breath, and heat as if she had just been in the room with him.
He was alone.
The Courier took his head in his hands and gritted his teeth angrily. His memories of her were perfect, his dreams as close to the real thing as possible, but he always had to wake up. No matter how long he slept, no matter how many times he relived his time with her… she was gone.
Nothing he ever did would bring her any closer than his dreams.
You loved her, a voice inside his head stated.
Yes.
And she loved you.
Yes.
So we carry on.
For her?
For her.
The Courier rose, carefully moving forward and picking up the fallen snow globe. Smiling sadly, he turned the memento over to read the inscription on its base.
'Make it whole again, make it right – SW'
Returning the globe to the shelf, Denn straightened his back and connected to the Lucky 38's systems, immediately getting in contact to the Ultra Lux's front desk to inform them to send over the first group of dignitaries.
He had a lot of work to do.
.
.
This history of Denn has been coming for awhile and I had to get it out. Trying to work out how it would feel to experience this has been... draining.
A big part of me wants to write a completely 'happy ending' type of story but... it's just not in the cards
Sorry if the chapter sucks, but I can't sit on it anymore.
Thank you for reading, and I hope you have a good day.