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October 24th, 2281, 7:34 a.m.
Lucky 38, New Vegas
"Did we have to do this so early?" the King asked wearily, shielding his eyes as the Courier returned to sitting with his back facing the suite's window.
"I thought you'd appreciate going first," the Courier replied, as the glass behind him turned opaque. The King blinked repeatedly and glanced around the expansive room as the light reached an acceptable level.
"Not one for decorating?" the leader of Freeside asked, commenting on the lack of any major fixture beyond the desk before him and its two chairs.
"The existing décor was decidedly… grandiose when I moved in," Denn answered, smiling at his friend. "I prefer function over form, and it saves the hassle of dusting… for the most part."
The King laughed for a moment before leaning forward and resting his elbows on his knees. "So what do you want from me?" he asked, eyes meeting the Courier's.
"I want you to join with the rest of the Mojave and help build a lasting nation," Denn replied.
"Under your control?"
"Hopefully not… I'd rather the existing communities step up and control their own areas. In regards to the Mojave at large, or more specifically the land not claimed by any one settlement, that will be my responsibility, yes."
"So we get taxed to use your roads?"
"Once I repave them and they become my roads, maybe. Hopefully the tourists from the NCR are numerous enough that this is not necessary."
"Already repaving the roads are you?"
"Once we start tearing down the wreckages of the existing infrastructure… well… that's a conversation for another time. I know you want Freeside to remain independent, and it will. The city will be entirely under your control."
"Sounds too good to be true…"
"It is. There is a catch."
"Ah-huh. What's the catch?"
"The NCR wants this land. It mainly wants New Vegas, but it will take over everything it can get its claws into, given the opportunity. I can't keep them out by myself, and to be frank, your gang isn't going to dissuade them any more than my Securitrons will. I blindsided them, caught them unaware, but if they bring about the entire strength of their military-"
"NCR soldiers aren't anything special."
"The real NCR soldiers are fighting the Brotherhood of Steel – forcing them to hide in the bunkers and even pushing them out of those. It didn't seem odd to you that most of the soldiers sent to the Mojave had barely seen two weeks of training? Real NCR soldiers… the likes of the First Recon and the Rangers – organized, disciplined, trained – those soldiers could stand up to my Securitrons, even defeat them if they had the numbers. You've experienced what real soldiers can do when Swank got a little heavy-handed in his treatment of the refugees."
"Easy… he was my second through a hell of a lot."
"I know… I'm sorry. My point is, the NCR will eventually realize they can take the Mojave in its current state, and unless I have help, I can't keep them from it."
"So we agree to help out if or when they invade?"
"Unfortunately, that won't be enough. Against a trained force, the ragtag defenders of the Mojave's communities will be easily picked apart. We need soldiers. What I need is a percentage of your city's population to be trained… by me."
"What kind of training?"
"Survival, first aid, combat tactics, weapon repair, physical conditioning-"
"So wait… I let you teach my guys how to fight and I get to keep control of Freeside? What happens if I say no?"
"If you say no, I will do what is best for the Mojave. Right now the Eastern route from the NCR into New Vegas is dangerous. The Brotherhood of Steel, deathclaws, raiders, and potentially the Legion threaten it. The Western route, however, has been almost cleared of potential hazards, with only the Brotherhood presence being an issue. Making the Western route the main path to Vegas would turn Westside into the gateway to the city."
"Leaving Freeside with whatever refuse streams in on the East… You mother fucker."
"It's the situation I am faced with. Westside doesn't need the traffic; they're surviving with what the wasteland provides and happy to do it. Freeside, however, needs the trade. If you join the rest of the Mojave, I will make the Eastern route safe, as well as focusing my repaving efforts on it, keeping Freeside as the main entrance to New Vegas."
"Now… leading with that in the 'this is what I will do for you' section of the conversation could have saved you some air."
"I thought the 'worst case scenario' was necessary, and better left to the end… but I'll keep that in mind for the future."
"Well… It sounds good to me," the King said, standing and raising his hand towards the Courier.
Denn's eyebrows rose slightly. "That's it?" he asked. "You don't want any assurances or bargaining chips or-"
"As much as you are trying to keep from saying it, I don't really have a choice," the King admitted, smiling wryly. "Freeside isn't big enough to stand on its own, and if I let my pride get in the way, we'll sink right to the bottom of the pecking order again. There may come a time my city can stand on its own, and when that time comes, your actions will decide whether or not it stays a member of your 'Mojave.' If you keep that in mind, we shouldn't have any problems."
Denn smiled under his rebreather and nodded, reaching out and clasping the King's hand tightly. "Glad to have you onboard," he said lightly.
"So, what're you calling this new nation anyway?"
"Well, I was thinking…"
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"The United Mojave?" The armored woman asked warily, squinting at the Courier.
"Yes," Denn answered, looking up at the woman who had declined his invitation to sit. "I wish to stress that the Boomers will be left entirely alone, as long as you provide an instructor for rudimentary explosive training and supply fire-support if the Mojave should fall under attack."
"And what of our deal for the bombing run at the dam?"
The Courier nodded and focused internally. After a moment, the door behind the woman slid open and an elderly figure sauntered through it. Daisy skipped forward and gave the wide-eyed, armored woman a tight hug.
"Why, you must be Raquel," the former Enclave pilot stated happily as she pushed herself an arm's length away and smiled up into the other woman's rapidly blinking eyes. "The Courier tells me you're a regular ace when it comes to the virtual reality sims."
Raquel nodded, eyebrows still refusing to return from their lofty position.
"Well that's good," Daisy said, taking the armored woman's hand and beginning to lead her out of the room. "We'll get started then."
"Wait," Raquel protested. "My meeting with the Courier-"
"Can wait until another time," Denn said, waving the woman out the door. "For now, my focus is the communities who need my help, and the Boomers do not. I'll stay in contact with Pearl and let you know if anything comes up."
"Then it's settled," Daisy declared, continuing to pull the younger woman out of the room. "Now, I assume your group is rearing to high-tail it out of here?"
"Yes, but-"
"Well, how about I give you a ride then? You know what they say, no sense walking if you can fly."
Denn laughed as the door closed behind the pair, muffling the stuttered utterances of the overwhelmed master-at-arms.
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"Doctor, it's good to see you."
"Hello there, Courier. I take it you remember Miss. Trudy?"
"Of course. How is the wasteland treating you two?"
"Not as well as the place you set us up in. Tell me, were those real feather pillows?"
"Synthetic, but I'm glad they were comfortable enough to be comparable."
"Incredible… do you know if there's any place I can pick up a pair of them?"
"Absolutely. When you leave I can actually-"
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"Marcus, Keene, I'm glad you could make it."
"Glad to be here, Courier. Congratulations on your victory over the Legion."
"And the NCR – before they were even your enemies – efficient."
"Thank you both. I hope your visit to New Vegas hasn't been too trying."
"Humans left us alone, for most part. Enjoyed watching them play… 'poke-her."
"Keene insisted on doing reconnaissance within the Ultra Lux. It was actually hard to find him in the morning."
"I'm glad you enjoyed yourself. Now… on to matters at hand."
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"No."
"Would you like to stay another night to reconsid-"
"No. North Vegas says no."
"Give me a chance to-"
"May I leave?"
"… As you will."
"Thank you."
Well geeze, you should really work on being more personable. Yes Man commented internally
So should he. Who's next?
Someone looking for a fight…
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Denn looked out over the city, or at least stood facing the window with his back to the rest of the room. In actuality, his attention was internal as he surveyed the area behind him from the many cameras spread across the walls.
The door slid open and a woman stepped into the room. Her hair was pulled back tight against her scalp with an ornate clasp and her outfit was just as taught as her hair, it's searing red fabric lying flush against her body. The apparel accentuated her curves and pulled at the lines of her feminine figure.
Even through the digital medium of his cameras, Denn found his attention forced into following those lines to their logical conclusion. The woman slowed as the Courier failed to react to her presence, her stance changing from assured confidence to cool wariness.
"My victory changes nothing," Denn stated, still facing away from the woman as he spoke. "Keep your operation within the Gomorrah and you will have free reign, but never forget that Vegas is mine. Am I clear?"
The woman smiled at the Courier, but her eyes refused to reflect the gesture – grey irises cold.
"You may go," Denn said after a moment. The woman spun around and made her way to the door, ripping the clasp from her hair to let the black tresses fall across her shoulders.
"The next time you bring a bomb into the Lucky 38, I will detonate it, instead of deactivating it," the Courier said quietly, finally turning to face the woman as she froze, her arm held mid-motion as she had been preparing to toss the intricate accessory to the side.
The feminine figure turned. Slowly, she began to break the clasp into pieces, staring into Denn's eyes as she did. The Courier leapt over the desk and bolted across the room, slamming the woman against the door and breaking her hold on the clasp.
The ornament fell to the ground, two vials of liquid breaking free of the makeshift explosive and clattering to the ground. The woman's eyes followed the clasp's fall, and she seemed disappointed when the vials failed to break apart. "Well, maybe next time then," she whispered through painted lips.
"Your life for mine?" Denn asked, disbelievingly.
"Better than your pawn," she answered.
"You are not my pawn."
"Aren't I? A piece of your puzzle – put in the place where I will serve you best. A… cog in your machine?"
The Courier released the woman, stepping away from her as she smiled at his response.
Well that was clearly intentional word choice… not good! Yes Man stated.
Quite. She knows. If she dies the Omertas will likely spread the knowledge, but for now she's keeping it to herself for some reason. Yet… she tries to kill me outright. Why?
Insanity? Not much you could do about that… Maybe it's a desire to have control… Play into it?
"Go," the Courier demanded, standing stiff at attention with his eyebrows creased with uncertainty.
The woman's lips pursed as her smile deepened, exiting the room without another word.
Denn relaxed and shook his head, hoping he had appeared genuine in his response.
Humans, am I right? You'd think she'd be more supportive after you gave her a casino.
It's all she's known. You know she killed off a third of the Omertas when I gave her control.
I know. Don't know why, though.
Same reason the number of prostitutes halved overnight. Getting women hooked on drugs so they became dependent on the Omertas support was standard procedure. Giving Lady Stone the reins stopped that, at the cost of a third of their number. All she cares about is the wellbeing of her "family."
Which necessitates the destruction of the man who put her in power?
She's dependent on me. I control the gates, I control the peacekeepers, and I control her supply of goods. From her perspective, I'm as bad as the pimps that kept her girls hooked. She lives and dies at my will, and that infuriates her. On the flipside, giving her free-reign – encouraging anarchy – would be problematic to say the least.
So why give her control instead of just taking over yourself? Heck, use a figurehead and rule by proxy.
It's an eventuality I have prepared for.
And her attacking you doesn't turn that eventuality into actuality?
It probably should.
But doesn't.
No.
Why?
She honestly cares for her family. I say I do as well, but it's impersonal. I care about them because of the part they play in the future; she cares about them because she is responsible for them. She'd die for them, and that makes her well-suited to the position. That level of personal attachment is also dangerous when misguided, but as long as I maintain my distance and let her keep her family safe, I hope she'll learn to trust me.
What stage is 'bombing' in that trust-building exercise?
Depending on the detonation, it's either one step back or a hard reset…
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Hidden Valley Bunker, 23 miles South of New Vegas
"What do you mean you can't access the system?"
"I'm sorry, Elder, I tried to send your response to Lost Hills, but…"
The clock is ticking…
"What's that? Why is it saying that?"
"It's one of the responses of the virus that was plaguing our databases two years ago."
"The virus that the Courier helped us find…"
"Yes sir… he must have modified it without any of us knowing. If it's been sitting in the system since then. It must have been programmed to watch our communications and activate after the right conditions had been met."
"Or after a certain amount of time had elapsed."
"Either scenario is unsettling. Either he has intimate knowledge of our systems, or he predicted the events of the past two years so accurately that he knew exactly when we would respond to the confrontation at Hoover Dam."
"What can you do?"
"I can get started at getting through the virus… but that will take-"
Time's up. 3:00:00
"What's that mean? What's that timer?"
"I don't–it's the self-destruct system! He's bypassed the safety protocols and activated it!"
"Fuck…"
Time's up. 2:59:49
"Can the virus actually detonate the charges?"
"I… I don't know. It's already started the process, so it stands to reason that it's possible."
"Can we get to the charges?"
"By design, no."
"Tell Hardin we're leaving."
"Sir, what if it's a bluff?"
"We can't call it."
"A few scribes could stay behind and…"
"I'm not risking any more lives on this. It was my mistake to allow the Courier access to our systems, and it has compromised our position. I will take full responsibility, but now we need to get out of the Mojave. Hopefully the NCR is disorganized enough that we can get to Broken Hills without further problems."
Time's up. 2:59:18
"Time is of the essence, Scribe Taggart."
"Yes, Elder, apologies."
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Mountain Spring Pass, 23 miles Southwest of New Vegas
"Charges are set."
"Bout fucking time."
"Hey, you could have helped out."
"And have nobody watching for Cazadors?"
"Yeah, alright… so now we just wait 'til they walk over and 'boom?"
"Nope. If they walk through and none of 'em stay, we leave it at that, and get to keep the charges, too."
"Damn… really?"
"Yeah, sounds like the best plan for everyone involved."
"And if some do stay?"
"Knock 'em out, light 'em up."
"Sounds good to me."
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Sorry for the delay. Had to come to terms with some things about the story. Hope you enjoyed, thanks for reading, all the pleasantries.