.

October 24th, 2281, 6:05 p.m.
Lucky 38, New Vegas

"Never thought I'd make it up here."

The Courier turned, smiling under his rebreather as Benny walked into the room. The former leader of the Chairmen was adorned with his signature-checkered suit and a rather large pair of sunglasses covering his eyes. As the door behind him slid shut, Benny hooked a lightweight cane under his arm and walked towards the only other individual in the room.

Denn's smile deepened as the man moved right beside him, stopping before the room's glass window. "If I didn't know better, I'd think you could see better than I can," the Courier quipped.

"Are you kidding? I was terrified you'd have a knee-high table somewhere in this room and I'd smash my face into the dirt," Benny replied, reaching out a hand towards Denn. "From what I've heard, congratulations are in order."

"Seems a little too early to celebrate to me," the Courier replied, mirroring Benny's gesture and shaking his hand solidly.

"You've got most of the Mojave playing nice, or pretending to anyway. Only other guy to ever get close to doing that was House, and he did it with threat of force."

"Isn't that threat still there? His Securitrons haven't gone anywhere, just changed hands."

"True… but House's approach was… cocksure, you dig? He pointed a gun at every stiff around before offering peace, not giving much of a choice to anybody involved. You're offering peace first, while the threat of force is implied, for the most part."

"An approach I was only able to use because of what he did before me. Most of what I've accomplished is due to his work."

"And most of the worst shit you've had to deal with was because of him. The White Glove Society and the saps formally know as the Omertas were only a problem because House underestimated them and didn't see what damage they could do."

"Seems like his biggest problem came from a different family, surprisingly."

"Yeah yeah, remind me of the time I shot you in the head again why don't you."

Denn laughed, crossing his arms and staring at the ground. "You know the weird part?" He asked quietly. "If you hadn't shot me in the head, I would still be running around the wasteland happily delivering packages and solving small-town problems."

"Sounds peaceful, but in reality all that would have done is given you a front-row seat to Caesar's Vegas," Benny stated.

"You think the NCR or House couldn't have held him off?"

"The NCR never treated the Legion with the respect it needed. Troops fresh off the farm with a set of shitty digs and a rifle they could barely use? Would've been chewed apart by the screaming fanatics Caesar had brainwashed. Without you, the Legion's defeat at the First Battle of Hoover Dam would have looked the biggest crapshoot the Mojave's ever seen after he kicked the shit out of 'em at the second one. Now, if Caesar had kept pushing west – tried his luck at taking the NCR on their home turf – that's a different game. Only reason NCR was here anyway was for the money; no soul in the fight for them. Have that same situation in the homeland? You've got a nation more than a million strong barreling down onto you, and this time they've got a reason to fight."

"What about House?"

"House was too smart, but too stupid to realize it. The guy had convinced himself he knew Vegas after watching the people living in it go about our business for a year or two – figured he knew what made us tick and could keep us controlled while he skimmed off the top. Guy might've saved the city, hell, might've run it clean two hundred years ago, but he bit off more than he could deal with when he took the reins. Maybe without Caesar or the NCR breathing down his neck, his plan might've worked, but as it was? I was just the first dumbass to move against him. With the Omertas bombing the strip and the White Glove Society going back to their roots, Caesar would've shut him down cleaner than you did."

"Is that why you moved against him?"

"I moved against him because I was the biggest Goddamn idiot on the Strip. I knew that he'd fucked up, and sooner or later someone was gonna' take him down, so I thought that someone might as well be me. With the whisperings between the families about the deals Caesar was looking to make, I just knew it'd be easy to keep control of the Strip after the Legion took the Mojave. Turned out I was wrong, and thank God I was."

"Why do you say that?"

"I may not feel proud of what I did, shooting you in the head, but if I got sent back to that exact same moment, I'd do it again in a heartbeat. Might not've been for the right reason, but you were sure as hell were the right person to have that done to them. Whatever path that bullet sent you down saved this city… hell, saved the entire Mojave. When I was sitting in Caesar's camp getting tortured by that sick cunt, I knew I had doomed every last one of my friends to the same fate or worse. Never thought anybody would be able to stop that from happening, and not in my wildest dreams did I think it could've been you. Point is… you're the best person around to run this joint, you dig?"

"What if I wasn't."

"Well that's just pointless thinking. You are and-"

"No, what if I wasn't a person? A human, that is."

Benny straightened, tilting his head to the side as his eyebrows creased behind his glasses. "Run that by me again?"

"What if I wasn't a human being?"

"Am I speaking to a Brahmin right now? I was being serious. If you can't appreciate that, I'll just-"

"I am being serious. If it turned out I wasn't, strictly speaking, human, what would that mean?"

"If you're not human, what are you?"

"Technically, I'm a machine."

"You got implants? Most everybody with a couple thousand caps to blow has at least-"

"Most of my major organs have been replaced with artificial ones and my consciousness is manifested within a complex computer system."

"What the fuck? How does that even work?"

"No idea. Can't crack myself open to take a look because there's no guarantee I'd be able to put everything back together again."

"What about the person who created you, can't they tell you?"

"Dead. They attacked me; I defended myself."

"How… never mind. Doesn't matter. Why the fuck are you telling me this?"

"Stone knows, somehow, and maybe more worrying, Caesar knew. I think someone told them, but have no idea who it could be."

"Who else knew you were a robot?"

"At the time, only two other people, and if they're telling secrets, I've got bigger problems than people finding out my brain is a glorified toaster."

"I bet. First of all, fuck you for getting me involved."

"Happy to."

"Second, the minute it gets out, you've got to jump ahead of it. Specifics, demonstrations, hell, go on a stand-up comedy tour, anything to show you're not a danger. If enough time passes between then and now that might be enough, you'll have your actions to back you up. Letting the individual communities govern themselves was a good call, but that in itself could potentially cause a whole bunch of new problems if this should get out."

"Why do you say that?"

"You invite the leaders of all the communities in the Mojave for a one-on-one, and afterword most of them agree to be a part of your 'United Mojave?' Anyone with half a share of sense knows it's a good call, but if it comes out you're a machine, those with less than half a share will think that you replaced their leaders with robots to do your bidding."

"Wouldn't that make everything easier, though?"

"If you try and assimilate me into some kind of collective I am done. I may be blind, but I can still punch you in the face and jump out this window."

Denn glanced to the side, deciding not to comment on the metal plates on the outside of the glass. "I'm sorry, it's not a laughing matter," the Courier said.

"Honestly? It kind of is," Benny commented. "Town's already turned upside down, and your being a robot is a hell of a post script. Hell, maybe a machine in control is what we need."

"Maybe. For what it's worth, I think you wouldn't be too terrible, given the reins of Vegas."

"If I had my eyes… maybe. Shame it took me losing them to learn how the world really spins."

"Do you want to see again?"

"… I bet this is how you trick people into becoming robots…"

"But if it's not…"

"You pulling my leg or should we start talking caps?"

"How about favors?"

"Fuck."

.

.

9:21 p.m.

"So where're we going?" Veronica asked, shifting back and forth on the balls of her feet in the tiny elevator.

"Below the Lucky 38 there is a substantial manufacturing complex. We're headed to the factory floor," Denn replied, absentmindedly fiddling with his Pip-Boy.

"What kind of manufacturing?"

"The complex can be repurposed easily, so pretty much anything the Mojave needs."

"Sounds game-changing. So why aren't you pumping out thousands of Securitrons?"

"There are limitations."

"Like raw materials?

"Surprisingly, that's not one of them."

"Color me intrigued!"

"I know you found my files."

"You're no fun. So… do you really have a way to transform matter into other-"

"Truth be told, it's something you should see for yourself," Denn interrupted, holding his arm out as the elevator stopped and its door opened suddenly.

A whirling assembly of mechanized construction was crammed into the room outside of the elevator. The space was a couple hundred meters large with a surprisingly high ceiling, yet seemed insanely cramped as almost every available surface was covered by equipment of varying complexity and purpose. Veronica covered her ears as the roar of the factory rushed into the elevator, and the Courier gestured for her to follow him. Weaving his way through the meticulously flailing arms, Denn led the dumbstruck Veronica to the far end of the factory floor and pushed through a heavy set of doors.

As the gateway sealed shut behind them, Veronica uncovered her ears and stared at the Courier in shock. "That's… this is…" she stuttered, trying to come to terms with the room she had just exited. "You're making laser rifles in there... Lots of laser rifles. How the hell are you even machining the parts for them? If the Brotherhood of Steel knew what was in that room-"

"They would do everything in their power to take it away from me," Denn replied, moving deeper into the room they had entered and gesturing for Veronica to follow him.

"The level of precision it takes to actually create the crystal focusing-arrays from scratch is… you aren't scavenging them, right?"

"Nope."

"Then this is… this is the most incredible collection of pre-war tech I've ever seen."

"That was," Denn replied, pointing with his thumb back over his shoulder at the factory floor. "This machine… well, this machine is a little more recent." The Courier stopped before an expansive window and picked up a pair of glasses sitting on what appeared to be a control panel. Handing the glasses to Veronica, he pulled a long cord out of the panel and plugged it into the base of his skull.

"Ew," the former Brotherhood scribe stated, frowning at the wire plugged into her companion's neck. "If this is how you charge up… I was happier not knowing."

"Shh; this is the best part," Denn stated, pointing to the room on the other side of the glass as the panel he was hooked into blazed to life.

Veronica turned, and as she did, the room before her lit up with striking fluorescent lights. A single pedestal stood in the center of the otherwise empty space, and as the last of the darkness disappeared, four mechanical arms drifted down from the ceiling and positioned themselves above the raised platform. Veronica's jaw dropped as the intricate machines raced through the air in tandem, laying out layers of material until, by the time they had finished their furious dance, a newly constructed focusing-array for a laser rifle rested on the pedestal.

"Did… did you just make that out of thin air?" She asked, dumbfounded.

"Not quite," the Courier replied, disconnecting the cable from his neck as another arm reached down and lifted the array off of the platform. "The machine transforms matter, and given the right blueprint, can use the new matter to create pretty much anything."

"Where did you find it?"

"The technology originates from the Sierra Madre casino, but Elijah transported one of the machines to a bunker in the Mojave when he first discovered it, which is where the parts for this adaptation came from."

As they spoke, a small section of the glass slid open, and the mechanical arm dropped its newly created cargo next to the control panel. Veronica picked the array up and began to examine it.

"So… when you say it transforms matter… what are its limitations?" the former Scribe asked.

"In that respect, it is only limited by the energy required, which depends on the composition of the original matter," Denn replied.

"What do you mean?"

"Well… while the machine could technically turn an equal amount of organic material into a laser focusing-array, the amount of energy that type of transformation requires is exponentially more than if the origin material were glass, metal, and plastic."

"How much energy are we talking?"

"The array you're holding required the equivalent of ten-thousand kilowatt hours, using corresponding source material."

"That's… that's ridiculous… where are you getting all that power?"

"The Hoover Dam. Part of the reason House chose Vegas as the location for his rebuilding was its proximity to the structure. Before the Resource War started, the U.S. Government heavily invested in any type of energy production, and while all the other projects stopped after the development of the Fusion-Generator, the Hoover Dam's power-generating capabilities were significantly increased by that time. Before the Great War, the Hoover Dam supplied energy for two and-a-half million households, each one of them requiring over thirty-thousand kilowatt hours a year, as well as the Vegas strip, which used about half of the total energy produced."

"Why did they need all that energy?"

"It was a different time, and despite the deceptively large numbers, the energy produced by the Hoover Dam was dwarfed by the energy produced by the full-sized Fusion-Generators the U.S. had."

"Which were all destroyed in the Great War."

"For the most part, yes. It's hard to hide something that produces that much energy, so the Chinese easily destroyed all but a few."

"If energy is the limiting factor, and you've got a pre-war structure practically producing an endless supply, why exactly aren't you pumping out thousands of Securitrons?"

"Turning this machine loose at full output would attract attention. Right now, anybody with a stealth boy can plug a reader into the relay system leading from here to the Dam and find out how much power Vegas, or the Lucky 38 if they're in the city, is consuming. Since the Second Battle of Hoover Dam, I'm still diverting the same percentage of its total output to New Vegas, but with the Dam now running at full capacity, the amount of energy has more than doubled.

"Hopefully if anybody gets readings on the consumption of Vegas at this time, they'll not give it a second thought. However, if they look closely and wonder what that energy is going to… things could get problematic. Having this machine pump out smaller parts then having the factory put everything together reduces the total energy and time required, but if the NCR decides to invade in the coming month or two, there is no way this factory could produce enough weapons for the Mojave to survive. If I draw energy from the dam to run this system at full capacity 24/7, it still wouldn't be able to keep up."

"So expand!" Veronica suggested, spreading her arms dramatically.

"Not a viable solution in this 'political climate," the Courier stated, carefully taking the focusing-array from the woman's hands. "While I might be able to get a warehouse set up to mass-produce Securitrons, it would be impossible for it to go unnoticed. Keeping New Vegas looking the same as it is now keeps it from becoming even more of a target for the NCR."

"Or the Brotherhood," Veronica added, frowning down at the control panel. "Something like this could really turn the tides for them… Anyway, how does it work?"

"Here, let me show you."

.

.

October 24th, 2281, 9:34 p.m.
Mount Spring Pass, 23 miles Southwest of New Vegas

"Reports from our agents in the NCR are saying he's more than doubled the size of his army. The Courier now has the largest collection of pre-war weaponry since the Brotherhood at the height of our power."

"Which is why we're leaving. We can't compete with him in our current state, especially with the Hidden Bunker compromised. Lost Hills is too far away for them to send reinforcements soon enough to make a difference. We have to leave."

"I'm not saying we should take offensive, Elder, just that we cannot retreat without conducting further reconnaissance!"

"He has Eyebots patrolling the entire Mojave."

"We have ways of avoiding their detection!"

"Ways that are likely unreliable and dangerous! Hardin… I won't argue this matter any longer. We've already wasted enough time."

"Elder. I must insist-"

The Paladin's plea was cut short as the land beneath the arguing leadership erupted in a series of cascading pulses of blue electricity. Hardin felt his hair stand on end as his power armor seized violently and its servos clamped down, all but freezing him in place. The Paladin commander roared out an order to take up defensive positions, but it was already too late. The screams of men and women pierced the otherwise silent night as firebombs began to rain down onto the powerless Mojave Chapter of the Brotherhood of Steel.

.

.

"Don't think we could have waited a little longer?"

"And have them wonder why their scouts haven't reported in? Fuck no. They didn't move on through, they die."

The first speaker winced as the screams emanating from the Brotherhood position reached a crescendo. "Hell of a way to go," he stated grimly, launching yet another napalm filled container into the air.

.

.

The Lucky 38

Denn guided Veronica through the matter-transformer's database, explaining the process of adding new schematics to the system, but the majority of his attention was focused inward – focused on the hell on earth raging miles away.

The Courier forced himself to watch the Powder Gangers ambush; refused to cut the feed as Brotherhood non-combatants fell to the ground, desperately trying to put out the flames tearing across them – into them. A handful of the Paladins had managed to force their way out of the inferno in their unpowered armor, but their attackers only targeted them with additional firebombs until the soldier's muffled screams erupted from their helmets as the overwhelming heat turned their armor into literal ovens.

Veronica's laugh pulled Denn back to the Lucky 38 as the former Scribe pointed to one schematic. Turning to grin cheekily up at the Courier, the young woman sarcastically pondered the necessity of black satin in the current political climate.

Denn shrugged and smiled, insisting there was a good reason the fabric was in the system, while miles away the firebombs finally stopped falling, leaving the existing flames to finish consuming what little kindling remained.

Veronica turned back to the control panel, and the Courier cut himself off from the Eyebot's recording of Spring Pass.

He had to tell her – had to tell her that her family was dead.

That it was his fault.

He had killed them.

The Courier saw himself reach out and place his hand on her shoulder – saw himself tell her what had happened. What he had done.

He saw the tears, the rage, the sorrow. Saw her rip herself apart. Saw her leave.

Dem saw himself do the right thing, but he couldn't bring the vision to reality.

He couldn't bring himself to admit what he had done.

Quietly, the Courier guided his companion through the system, helping her create the remaining parts for the laser rifle they had started earlier.