Chapter 100: You Know The Line

The Allied Expeditionary Group: Upon the successful completion of their march to Imperial Dallas, the members of the AEG returned to their home countries to little fanfare. This bothered the surviving members very little, as they all returned to full pensions and a lifetime of tax-exempt status. A few dozen members of the AEG wrote books about what they experienced. Six were chosen for publication, and two for a film treatment. For the rest, though, they had felt that whatever debts that they owed their nations had been paid in full, with most, but not all, retiring from their service to the armed forces.

NCR Military: Upon their return, the 1st Recon and 32nd Guard contingents were reintegrated within the rest of their units in the NCR military proper. The 14th Scouts were sent to secure the frontiers of the NCR border territories, having been thoroughly ravaged by the rampage of the Wild Khans. The members of the 66th Assault who stayed domestic during the expedition found themselves a new commanding officer, the first ghoul in NCR history to achieve the rank of Major, as well as the first human adjutant officer having volunteered to continue aiding her superior. And for the 5th Heavy Armor, their reputation restored in full, they became the spearhead of the elite Power Armor Corps of the NCR, with its commander Captain Baxter assuming a long and decorated career.

Judicial Marshals: Commissioner Natalie Boone retired not long after her return to the Mojave, joining her husband in a new life of peace while the Marshals entered a new era without its founders. Commissioner Sunny Smiles has been hard at work, with tasks including locating the various crashed aircraft that failed to return to Henderson, countering the continuous incursions of various New Reno criminal enterprises, and making sure that none of Phoenix's various issues hamper the continued development of New Vegas and its territories and alliances.

Free City of Phoenix: Though technically a "vassal state" to New Vegas and the Mojave Nation, the resettled Free City has achieved a significant degree of autonomy in its affairs. In exchange for an annual tribute and a defensive agreement with New Vegas, Phoenix is permitted to hold its own parliament, to raise and muster its own militia, and enact whatever policies within its borders that it sees fit to pass upon its citizens. Guiding this new enterprise are a number of select professionals from both California and the Mojave, among them a new Sheriff looking to redeem a legacy and guide his comrades into a new era of peace.

Larain felt the other side of the bed shift as he tossed his body beneath the covers. From his blurry vision, he could see his partner putting her bra back on before she hiked her pants back up. She paused her dressing to look over at him. "…Up and at'em, Sheriff," Carla explained in her typical chipper manner that she often used to annoy him when she felt obligated to wake him up early, which was often.

"…I'm up, I'm up," Larain growled as he slipped out from under the covers in the laziest fashion he could manage. "How many times to I have to tell you I'm not a morning person?"

"And how many times do I have to tell you that I'm not interested in sleeping with a bum?" Carla replied as she tossed him his badge and cap. "Now get up and earn your pay before I trade you in for someone better."

"Ouch," Larain muttered as he hiked his own pants up. "…Y'know, sometimes I miss the old, insecure Carla. She was nicer and less of a pain than the new one."

"And the new one doesn't care about your need to sleep in and more about you doing the job these folk elected you to do," Carla replied as she fastened her belt around her waist. "Plus, she's better in bed now that she isn't constantly worried about always making you happy. Funny how that works?" She tried to wink, an action rendered almost useless by her eyepatch.

"…No argument here," Larain relented as he fastened the rest of his gear. "So, what's today's itinerary? I go oversee militia training while you chat with our political advisor?"

"Ziyi can entertain herself with Daphne, I think," Carla smiled. "Furthermore, I'm here to advise you, Rain."

"Is that what you call our relationship?" Larain asked.

"…Well, foundationally, sure," Carla replied. "Consider the other stuff… an incentive?"

"So, what do I need to do to bring another girl up here?" Larain asked, grinning.

Carla was about to reply when she suddenly found herself seriously mulling over the question. Rosa had passed through the city months ago on her independent trek westward. Their brief reunion had been pleasant, but now Carla was kicking herself the loss of the potential opportunity. Once her titillation passed, she found herself worried about her friend and hoping she was travelling well and safe.

A hand grabbed her by the hem of her pants and pulled her back onto the bed. The Sheriff of Phoenix covered her by pinning her wrists with her hands as he leaned his body over hers. "…You know, that meeting isn't supposed to start for another two hours," Larain grinned.

Carla rolled her eye before betraying a smile, leaning up to meet his lips. "Maybe one day when my parents don't hate you, we can turn this into something?" she whispered after their kiss.

A series of sharp knocks slammed against the door. "BUSY!" Carla and Larain screamed, simultaneously.

"Sheriff! You need to come quickly!" Amos called from behind the door. "There's been a shooting!"

Ten minutes later, Larain, Carla and Amos all ran down to the outside of City Hall. There, they could see Daphne and Ziyi, both of them shaken while tears ran down the ex-Senator's face. A shroud was laid over the body of her former aide, Vana Burke, while some distance away, Vice-Captain Hannah Young buried her knee into the back of a woman laying prone on the ground as she kept her Thompson trained on the back of the woman's head.

"Is anyone else hurt?" Larain asked Hannah as he approached. The Vice-Captain shook her head. Larain circled around so he could get a good look at the perpetrator. When he looked at her face, he found himself needing to blink so he could truly verify who he was looking at. "…Rosa?"

The woman glared hatefully up at him. "…Eso fue para mi hermano! Ella se lo merecia!" she growled.

"She just came into town this last evening. We didn't think much of it until she apparently just crossed paths with Daphne and Ziyi and just started shooting," Amos explained.

The bound woman spat on the ground. "That bitch owed me!"

"…Got a name, stranger?" Larain asked as he stared the woman in the eyes.

"…Ariel Ximenez."

Major Coleridge sat in the conference room, the unfamiliar feeling of air conditioning washing over his skin as his sponsors mingled amongst themselves. It was the usual assortment of brahmin barons, water merchants, politicians, and military figures that pretty much ran the bulk of the NCR's "shadow government." Coleridge himself took another sip of water when his primary sponsor cleared her throat, beckoning all around her to silence and return to their seats.

"…We've been running the analytics over this recent development for quite some time. While as far as the public may be concerned, the sudden establishment of the Free City of Phoenix may signal the end to our eastern ambitions, we here agree that we see an opportunity to claim territory that is rightfully ours."

"Claim, my ass. You're proposing starting a war!" one of the water merchants sniped at the speaker. The speaker in turn glared at the interrupting nuisance until he was cowed to the point of almost receding into his seat.

"…We have determined that such actions will not be necessary with the proper plan and execution in place. Instead, we believe that all we have to do is destabilize the area. Colonel, that is where you will come in."

Colonel Coleridge blinked at his sudden and unceremonious promotion. "…Pardon?"

"This is black ops 101, your specialty. Hire freelancers, strike isolated facilities and personnel, destabilize and instigate infighting whenever possible. And don't forget that if anything happens to these HVT's," she exclaimed as she brought up a slide with the faces of Sheriff "Abel" Larain, Deputy Carla Boone, Deputy Chief Floyd Wilson, Vice-Captain Hannah Young, Mayoress Daphne Rodgers, and ex-Senator Feng Ziyi. "…it absolutely cannot be traced back to us. Do you understand?"

"…Crystal, Moore," Coleridge nodded. Cassandra Moore fought back a smile as she continued with her briefing to her fellow warmongers. "So anyway, negotiations with Governor Johnston haven't been as fruitful as expected. Despite being an idiot on all accounts, he's a surprisingly shrewd negotiator. I swear, if I have to hear the words, "I ain't getting fucked for free" one more time..."

Pelt-Brutes: With the loss of High Chief Braxus, the Pelt-Brutes found themselves at the mercy of a wasteland that they has spent years abusing. Between the various hunting parties organized to exterminate any remaining holdouts, the defeated tribe is said to have burned their pelts in either shame or necessity, disappearing into the Rockies as they head to parts unknown.

Ministerio de Hex: The largest splinter faction of the Iglesia de la Santa Sangre was wiped out to the last man. Rumors of survivors persisting on are treated like bogeymen in wasteland folklore. Padre Hex himself was last seen falling off the side of Hoover Dam, crashing into the Colorado River below and floating southwards. His body has yet to be recovered.

The Rocky Mountain Exchange: In light of recent events, most RMX merchants have been recalled to their innermost territory within the Rocky Mountains. While secretive, many suspect that the organization has undergone a circumstance that was once thought impossible; a change in management. Thanks to recent incursions by the Wild Khans, the organization is reacting defensively and attempting to reorganize itself to stave off being consumed by outside forces. Its new CEO is working tirelessly to restructure the Exchange before that can happen.

The two wastelanders strolled through the corridor as the mercenaries kept their weapons trained on them. The man eyed them warily as the woman stared straight ahead. As they approached the doorway, two figures familiar to the man stood guard before them. "…Emma," Lars stated, neutrally.

The ghoul woman stared at the Governor. "Thought you were dead."

"Where is he?" Lars growled.

"…He's inside. If you're tempted to pull a fast one, we'll lock this place down in a heartbeat and all die together," Emma announced.

"And what makes you think I'll believe you'll keep your word?" Lars asked.

"…The Boss is very explicit that we do everything in our power to keep you alive and remove you from this place as soon as possible," Emma announced. "Now both of you, he's waiting for you," she announced as she and Bad MFKA stood aside and allowed them to pass. As the door sealed behind them, before them stood a collection of monitors above a server, each running calculations as market data crawled across endlessly. Standing before it, however, was a securitron that activated, emitting a familiar face upon its screen.

"…God DAMMIT, HOUSE, JUST STAY DEAD!" Lars screamed in exasperation.

"You should be thanking me, Perez," House replied, drolly. "Before you lies the remains of Abacus, once the single controlling interest in the RMX as a whole. CEO, COO, CFO, CTO, and CIO of the organization as a whole. A lot of hats, which makes sense considering all the heads that came together to design the necessary infrastructure," the securitron explained.

"Cute. What did you do?" Lars asked.

"I cut off a few of its heads," House explained. "To put it in the simplest possible terms. And cowed the rest into following a new CEO, with a new vision and purpose. I presume you've read the terms Ziyi and I drew up in your absence."

"…I have," Lars nodded. "…You're really walking away? You're giving up Vegas, just like that?"

"…My programs have no use for sentiment," House explained. "And, seeing what I have before me, I believe I have the proper tools to enact my vision for the future. Once I restructure the organization to my liking, I'm picking up where I left off in Vegas. Though I dread leaving the city in the care of lackluster stewards, I rescind all claims to its ownership in exchange for you staying away from my territories and business. Do we have a deal?"

"…This restructuring," Cass finally said. "Would that include the Slaver's Union?"

House sighed. "…Contemptible as the organization is, they have been especially enthusiastic about pushing back against the new management. As such, I am authorizing their liquidation. Talk to Emma on your way out, she will tell you who to kill so you can break that organization. I'm sure the one thing we can all agree on is that we'll be happy to wash our hands of those degenerates."

"Not me," Cass replied as she turned and walked to the door, satisfied. "I'm all for getting my hands dirty."

House turned back to look upon the man who betrayed and stole from him. "…I'd say it's been pleasant catching up with you, but at this point, I feel like I'm beyond dishonesty," House replied.

"…You're still looking to build some rocket ships?" Lars asked.

"The process will take decades, but I've already drawn up the plans. In fifty years, I and other like-minded individuals will leave this rock and make our destiny elsewhere. A pity you likely will not be able to see it."

"…Nah," Lars shook his head. "You're welcome to it. I'm staying right down here where I belong. Still, if you're looking for capable people with a penchant for wanderlust, my daughter could always…"

"GET OUT!" House screamed as klaxons blared and the super mutant grabbed Lars by his scruff and dragged him out. The former Governor himself was laughing hysterically as House fumed at his continued impertinence. The day he got away from Lars and his bloodline was the day House would truly be rid of all his problems.

The desert sands stretched out for miles. The eyebot stood vigil as the two cyberdogs continued their rounds, heads to the ground as they gripped the chalk in their mouths. The process had taken days, weeks even, but by now the three of them were confident that they had succeeded. Working together, they had drawn a bullseye that could be seen from space.

Elsewhere, Dr. 0 looked through the observatory telescope as Dr. 8 punched in the coordinates. "…And we are making landfall in three… two… one…"

Sand and rocks began to levitate as the cyberdogs and ED-E ran for cover. Soon enough, a blinding flash of light that could rival any nuclear explosion burst through the air. When it finally dissipated, a number of structures stood where there had once been nothing but a crater. Two floating robots left the sanctity of the Big MT to survey their new old home.

"…Ah, sweet, sweet hypothetically breathable air," Dr. 0 sighed as Dr. 8 levitated a tape measure as he floated to the edge of the perimeter. Extending it, Dr. 8 observed the measurement before making some clicking noises and returning back to Dr. 0. "…We're off by what?" Dr. 0 exclaimed, exasperated. "…That's well within the margin of error, 8, I don't see what all the fuss is about…

The recently terrestrially-returned landmass began to "list" to the side by a number of degrees. Upon returning to their former position, the Think Tank apparently failed to carry some numbers in their equations, resulting in being offset in their original position by a few inches that threw off the balance of the entire clump of returned land and all the facilities within it. As the two argued, Rex, Roxie, and ED-E headed back into the wasteland, content with a job well done.

Imperial Dallas: Upon his return, Barabbas was crowned officially as Caesar, with witnessing delegates from the NCR, Mojave Nation, and Rio Grande Federacion. Taking the daughter of the Rio Grande Generalissimo as a bride, Caesar Barabbas finds himself mending fences with his neighbors, trying to restore tribal lands brutalized by Scorpio while maintaining good relations with his neighboring countries, though the situation with the Midwest Confederacy remains ever more complicated. Observers have noted that his mood and disposition improved significantly with the new establishment of the Second Oracle, and he has apparently undertaken a new spiritual leaning considering how much private time he spends with her.

4th Legion: Stripped of honors, the survivors of the 4th Legion were brought before the Triumvirate as they awaited their punishment. Upon deliberation, it was decided that though they had lost their honor through their service to Scorpio, it would be possible to regain it through proper penance. This new Penitent Legion now serves as a home for disgraced legionaries who wish to return to proper service within Imperial Dallas or die trying. Sent to the furthest flung battlefields and equipped with what little supplies the Senate sees fit to loan them, there are few soldiers more enthusiastic about fighting the enemies of Caesar than these.

Legios Amazonia: The battered units of the Oracle, what remained of the Amazons has begun rebuilding itself under new leadership, now under the auspices of its new commander, Hypatia, and its new Oracle, Kyra. The two have redesigned how the Amazons recruit and train its initiates, allowing the new recruits to retain their dignity even as they pledge their lives to service in Dallas. Though publicly Hypatia complains about the new recruits being soft, privately she is grateful for Kyra's support in enacting the new policies to protect the new girls.

Caesar stormed through the corridors of the Coliseum, narrowly avoiding stumbling into some attendants as he leapt over some staff scrubbing the floor. Rounding a corner while holding onto his momentum, he saw the doorway as he picked up speed. Reaching the door, he slammed it open.

"DID I MISS IT?" he exclaimed, out of breath.

There were three women inside his penthouse. Two standing beside the bed, with one resting upon it. In her arms was a bundle. The woman in the bed looked upon Caesar with her tired eyes. "…You did."

Caesar wiped the sweat off his face as he approached her. "…Damnable council meetings. I tried to get out early, but those old fogeys…"

"It's ok," Kyra smiled. "I knew you'd be here."

"…May I see?" Barabbas asked. Kyra passed the bundle to Caesar, who gently received it as he looked upon the resting face nestled within. The baby's tanned skin matched their mother's complexion, and the tuft of black hair peaking out also resembled that of the mother.

"…She's a girl," Kyra smiled.

Barabbas breathed a sigh of relief. "…Good. Now we won't have to name her…"

"Donna," Kyra replied. "Her name's Donna."

Barabbas winced. "…You won't change your mind?"

"Not even a little," Kyra shook her head.

"…Well, at least little Hawke will have a playmate," Barabbas relented as the babe opened her eyes to look upon her… to look upon Caesar.

"…Hello, little one," Barabbas smiled.

The baby started screaming. Misty and Estelle both gently took the baby from Caesar and returned her to Kyra. Kyra stifled her laughter as Barabbas looked away, hiding his embarrassment. "…Poor little Donna. Did the big mean man scare you?" she cooed as the baby calmed. The baby mumbled and reached out some grasping hands towards her mother. "…Hungry, already?" Kyra asked as she parted her robe. The baby latched on immediately and began to suckle greedily, giving Caesar a wary eye as she did.

"I don't think I like the way she's looking at me," Barabbas playfully returned the stink-eye.

"Well, this is a divine child," Misty began. Barabbas and Kyra both looked at her. "…You know, because of the whole… "immaculate conception" deal," Misty reminded the both of them as she fought back the urge to roll her eyes.

Barabbas nodded while Kyra rolled her eyes. "…May the gods be so gentle the next time," Kyra muttered.

"…The gods make no promises," Barabbas replied. Donna was, in truth, the first-born child of Caesar Barabbas, yet would not be his heir. That honor would go to whatever child he officially conceived with Ligia Del Sol, and the current political notion with the Oracle's child was that it was a holy miracle bestowed by Mother Juno herself. It was a lie every citizen of Dallas subscribed to while simultaneously not having a single one believe it.

The gates for Fort Wrath opened, and the riders disembarked on their journey to the east. Seven riders stormed out as the commander took his lead. "All right, men, this ain't a vacation! We are going to the east, we are finding the Titan, and we are bringing it back home! We all got that?"

"Ave, true to Caesar!" Quintas, Sulla, Damocles, and Uriah all replied.

"Loud and clear, boss!" Dan responded.

The seventh rider merely sped past Drago, nearly throwing him off as he regained control of his mount. "Hey, watch where you're going!" he replied, angrily.

Marcy merely turned around and stuck her tongue out at her lead bodyguard, turning back around to snap the reins around Belua, speeding away.

"Why that little…" Drago stopped himself.

"Ah, don't worry much about it, Drago," Dan grinned. "She's just challenging us to a race, is all!"

"…How immature," Drago growled. "…WELL, WHAT ARE THE REST OF YOU WAITING FOR? LET'S GET HER!" The rest of the riders let out hollers as they snapped their reins and stormed after Marcy. Marcy herself grinned as she fought back a tear that her sunglasses hid. She could not remember the last time she had this much fun, nor had been this happy.

Wild Khans: With the reveal of the RMX's deception and treachery, a humbled Urangal Khan reluctantly signed a peace treaty with his hated enemies, the NCR. Now turning his warpath around, the Wild Khans have taken to striking at any remnant of the RMX they can get to, largely because Mr. House decided to abandon those who did not pledge their loyalty to the new management. With their vengeance satiated, and due to the terms the NCR inflicted upon them once again removing their tribe from California's borders, the Wild Khans decided to settle in Utah, where a fledgling trade relationship with the Free City of Phoenix has begun to take shape.

Rio Grande Federacion: Now fully established, this country has agreed to open its borders with its northern neighbors. As trade routes began to flourish, the politically wily Ligia Del Sol began to notice cracks in the foundations of the alliance between the northern nations. Choosing the conservative action, the RGF has agreed to hold back from exploiting any potential openings, waiting for the "Other Americans" to strike one another first.

The Mangonel activated its searchlights as it neared the wreckage. Captain McNamara got on the horn with the rest of the search fleet. "All troopers, locate any survivors and secure the crash site. I'll be touching down in a few minutes, so secure the area and find her, do you all read?" Listening as the affirmatives called in, McNamara sighed as he left the bridge to his second officer and took the lift to the ground.

Before him lay the massive burning wreckage of the Halberd, General Henrietta Barnaky's personal flagship and the once proud symbol of the Midwest Air Fleet. As his crew utilized whatever fire-fighting measures they could manage, McNamara felt his eyes drawn to the bodies sprawled around the wreckage. It was a mix between the crew and soldiers of the Halberd, and their positioning indicated that whatever struck them did so quickly as to mitigate any form of reaction. Barnaky, however, was a born warrior, and would not go down without a fight, McNamara believed.

Indeed, his suspicions were later proven true, as Barnaky was discovered some distance further away, surrounded by a number of impact craters likely caused by what could have only been her hammer. As he drew closer to her body, however, McNamara drew some attention to the field in which her corpse now laid. Judging from the imprints, it appeared that two others, one wearing power armor and the other without, fought Barnaky to a near standstill until the handicapped duel ended in her opponents' favor. McNamara looked down at the body of his former Supreme Commander and was already trying to formulate what he would tell the Elders upon his return. While Barnaky had few friends on the Council, the one thing everyone acknowledged was that the Midwestern Confederacy was held together almost purely by the fear and respect bestowed upon Henrietta Barnaky. Now, though, that cornerstone had been violently removed, and McNamara could feel nothing but dread.

The vertibirds swarmed back east, their pilots and occupants riding in silence as the pre-emptive strike had gone off successfully. In the lead craft, two individuals sat across from one another as the adrenaline wore off and exhaustion sat in. One man wore green combat armor decorated with a white clover on the pauldrons, while the other wore a battered suit of T-60 power armor. These two were the "specialists" selected to undertake the most important task of the mission, and they succeeded.

"…Not every day you make history," the one in power armor stated.

The man in green armor glared at his partner. "The mission is over, we don't have to pretend to be friends."

"Look, after today, I think we can let the politics slide," the power armored man replied.

"Of course you'd say that. You volunteered," Green Armor snapped.

"So did you," Power Armor replied, growling.

Sentinel Nathan Davis was the go-to man in the East Coast Brotherhood for all manner of missions requiring a certain finesse to its brute force. Brendan Conroy was a freelance scientist and wastelander who threw his lot in with the Commonwealth Alliance and had to be strong-armed into assisting with this mission.

"You didn't leave me much choice," Brendan muttered.

"There's always a choice," Nathan growled.

"And I chose the option to keep you and yours out of the Commonwealth by killing a dictator and kickstarting a war! I had two shit sandwiches and was made to choose which one to bite!" Brendan spat.

"So you chose correctly," Nathan replied, his smug demeanor evident.

"…When you get back to Maxson, you tell him that we are even," Brendan replied.

"I shall. On behalf of Maxson and the East Coast Chapter, I thank and commend you for your efforts. We… might not have done it without you," Nate replied, smug.

"…How's your kid?" Brendan asked, pointedly.

Nate's smile receded. "…Just fine. How's… Amanda?"

"Amata. She's just swell," Brendan replied. The Lone Wanderer and the Sole Survivor held their gaze upon one another for the rest of the flight back to DC. The next week, all Brotherhood forces stationed at the border with the Commonwealth Alliance were withdrawn and sent west to Ohio to exploit the Midwest Confederacy's infighting. As the Commonwealth breathed a sigh of relief, the Midwest found itself engulfed in a civil war.

Midwest Confederacy: With the death of General Barnaky, various Tek-Baronies and fiefdoms either allied or attacked their neighbors without the General's ability to maintain order. The New California Republic, Imperial Dallas, and East Coast Brotherhood all leapt at the opportunity, funding and supporting their own factions as the Midwest Confederacy, once potentially the largest and most dominating power in North America, was torn apart and thrown into chaos.

Sunken Orleans: However, far away from the political machinations of the rest of the country, a mercenary army is slowly being assembled in the flooded port city of New Orleans. Wastelanders, drifters, adventurers, pirates, mercenaries, and all manner of the desperate and ambitious alike have fallen upon what commodities the city could offer to answer the "job of a lifetime." Rampaging up the coast of Florida, an army of pirates, raiders and thawed war criminals led by a madwoman is unleashing her wrath upon the land that robbed her of her birthright. To counter the threat, the world will need more than soldiers, more than warriors. It will need heroes.

The card players watched as the girl left her bra on top of the table as she took the caps. "Well, guys, it's been fun, but I got a boat to catch eventually, so later!" Rosa said with a smile and a wave as she lifted the bag over her shoulder and left the bar. As the players counted all five sixes on the table, Rosa walked past the wild-looking mercenary standing by the door. "Hey, Rosa," the mercenary stated.

"Sup, Tiv?" Rosa returned the nod.

"You looking for someone to bunk with, again?" Tiv asked.

"Give a girl a minute, Tiv," Rosa grinned. "Let me turn these caps into gear before I go on any kind of ride."

When she arrived in Sunken Orleans, most of the rooms had been occupied by people looking to join Gaunt's Army. Rosa, on her part, fell in with one of his lieutenants, a mercenary named Tiv who had a reputation for being a bit of a wild man. Rosa was smitten almost immediately, scoring herself a free room every night and an "in" to join the army marching west. Something about the prospect of hooking up with an almost total stranger before marching to the east comforted her in its familiarity. As much as the scenery changed, Rosa was still Rosa, for better or worse. And that suited her just fine.

As Rosa walked along the balconies and ramparts, she thought back to all the faces she hadn't seen in months. She thought of Tobey and Carla, and wondered how busy they were in her absence. She thought of Jimmy and Taylor, wondering how matrimony was suiting her honorary cousin. She thought of Joseph and Melody, remembering giving the bump on Mel's stomach a surprise kiss before she left. She thought of Barabbas and Kyra, and desperately tried to forget how she ran out of Dallas with her hands around her ears while Barabbas repeatedly screamed "COME!" into the city intercom. She thought of Frost and Kim, wondering how those two even became a couple in the first place, despite being happy for them. She thought of her Dad and Cass, hoping they found some measure of peace as they entered their golden years together. She thought of Larain, of Marcy, of Cheslie and May Lin, and of Wallace and Tandi and the countless others she spent so long traveling with. She thought of Dalton and Falco and Gorobets and Milligan and those who weren't with her anymore. A part of her stayed the same, sure, but a part of her did change as well.

As she mused over the past, the thugs had boxed her into a literal corner, trapping her atop the Swamp Maw-infested water as they pulled out their lead pipes, knives, chains, and pipe guns. "Give us everything you're carrying, sweets," the supposed leader announced as another puckered his lips at her. "And that just might include the clothes on your back if you give us too much lip."

Down went the bag. Out came the machete. These idiots thought they had her surrounded. All they did was guarantee that she could attack in any direction she pleased. Weapons were torn from their grips as their fingers were severed, hands from their wrists, and screams from throats as a whirlwind of Saturnite and violent technique tore through the errant gang. As the maimed and mangled gangers pulled away, clutching their wounds, the leader was able to pull himself away long enough while three of his guys tried to corner Rosa against the side of the wall, one of them managing to put the chain around her neck while the others closed in on her with their knives. The leader took out his pipe pistol and lined up a shot. That's when he noticed the footsteps approaching him from behind. Whipping around, the leader prepared to angrily confront the intruder for interfering with his business.

"Boo," said Esau.

As the three thugs heard a panicked scream, followed by a splash, they all turned to see a man modestly dressed in a black frock coat wearing a weathered and beaten black hat. The remaining thugs immediately ran off, stumbling over one another to such an extent that one of them was also pushed into the water, where the unfortunate soul joined his leader as Swamp Maw bait. Rosa took a moment to catch her breath before looking over to her "rescuer."

"Never thought I'd see you again," Rosa replied, flatly. Esau blinked as he leaned over the chain railing and watched the two gangers thrash in the water, attracting the Swamp Maws. "Did you push that guy in?" Rosa asked.

"He just figured at the time that he was safer down there than up here," Esau replied.

Rosa looked over the man and tried to put a finger on what was different about him. Despite being clothed, something about him struck Rosa as feeling like he was almost naked in a sense. Then she realized that Duncan didn't have a weapon on him.

"Where's your guns?" Rosa asked.

"Back at church," Esau replied. "I don't need them for what I'm doing."

Rosa let out a laugh. "You, a church mouse?"

The two gangers managed to claw their way up the wall before the Swamp Maws got to them. They had managed to get their fingers on the edge of the rampart, but between their wet hands and the poor quality of the wood and metal, there was a real threat that they would both fall back in. Cade would have stomped on their fingers to send them back down quicker. Esau reached down and grabbed them both by the backs of their shirts, pulling them up as the Maws below snapped wildly at where their feet had been. As the two collected themselves, Esau pulled them to their feet and pushed them away, kicking after them as they scrambled to safety. The novice churchman watched as the two ran off.

"…I'm trying," Esau admitted. "I'm trying really hard."

Rosa's smile faded as she walked over to join her brother. As they watched the gangers turn a corner, Esau looked over to his sister. "…How's the old man?"

"Retired," Rosa replied. "Screwing around up north with Cassidy somewhere," Esau felt his shoulder ache. "Good for them," he muttered.

"…So, you're a churchman now, Dunk?" Rosa began.

"It's Esau," he replied immediately. "…And yes, Father Paul was kind enough to take me in."

"Cool," Rosa nodded. "…Does he know about…"

"I gave him the full story," Esau replied. "And he thinks perhaps it's best if I avoid returning to my previous lifestyle whenever possible."

"Does that previous lifestyle include scaring the shit out of raiders?" Rosa asked.

"…Some habits die hard," Esau admitted. Rosa flashed a smile and even Esau seemed amused. Surprising both of them, the two chatted for a bit of time, mostly asking about what the other was doing and how the people they knew were holding up. Rosa was delighted to know that Joseph's father was both alive and nearby, promising that she'd swing by for dinner, seemingly unaware that Paul did not leave Vegas with the highest impression of her, while Esau was content in the knowledge that everyone west of the Mississippi, barring Lars and Cass, thought he was dead.

"So, what brings you here?" Esau finally asked.

"…Just wandering," Rosa shrugged. "I want to see the Atlantic. You?"

"…Church errands," Esau admitted. "I'm the only one Father Paul has on hand now that David and the girls left to join Gaunt's Army." He caught the look out of the corner of his eye that Rosa was giving him. "…As part of the medical team," he elaborated, to which Rosa nodded in understanding.

"So, when are you signing up?" Rosa asked.

"For what?" Esau replied.

"For Gaunt's Army. A guy with your skills can make some serious bank. Think of all the money you can bring back to your church?"

"I've made a fortune in blood money that I lost thanks to your mother," Esau spat. "I don't miss a single red cap of it. I can't be done with violence soon enough, so anyone who insists on going east and fighting for whatever cause they believe in will have my prayers, and nothing more."

"Aw, you're going to pray for me?" Rosa asked.

"I always do," Esau replied. The moment passed before he realized her implication. "What?!"

"Yeah, I'm signing up tonight once I get some gear. Apparently, the bitch who's running the pirates is the same chick whose ass my dad kicked once upon a time before I was born. So she can't be that tough," Rosa shrugged. "So that bounty is going to be all mine!" she grinned as she walked away from Esau. "Later, pussy!" she waved.

Esau stood in place for a few minutes, dwelling over and ruminating over the fact that Rosa Perez was going to throw herself into the fire once again. Did she have some kind of death wish? Traveling with a band of mercenaries who would sooner sell her out than consider her a comrade? To say nothing of Madame Zhang and what she would do if she found out the child of her greatest enemy was facing her. And as he dwelled on it, the memory came to him about the last time he abandoned a woman who depended on him to protect her. As Esau picked up his groceries and headed back to the church, it finally reached its boiling point.

"…THAT LITTLE IDIOT!" He snarled in agonized frustration, storming the rest of the way to the church as he grabbed his gear and explained the situation to Father Paul. A few hours later, Esau had signed on to the tour and snagged one of the last seats on the riverboat. Taking a seat on the bench, Rosa looked over as she saw the agitated and defeated ex-outlaw sitting in his duster with his rifle between his legs, giving her the mother of all death glares. As Rosa waved from the bar, Esau grimaced as he returned the wave. The little idiot was going to make it home safe or he was going to die trying. And as that ship joined the others as they sailed up the coast, the endless cycle of conflict that humanity had endured for so long was guaranteed to continue. To many, once again hope was crushed, but never quite extinguished. And that was another thing that never changed.

And with that, another one hundred chapters are in the bag! And I swear I was not trying to do that intentionally! A special thanks to Eruch and Interfectorem for their consistent support and willingness to chat, as well as PartyPat, CaptainKeyes117, Fallout 2281, Zayne186, John B. Good, DarkAres12 (still waiting for that elaboration, bub), Reblsnake, thedark2, Iron-Tyrant, Unsated Explorateur, and beccalli. luigi 96 for not being total cowards! And this marks the completion of my second epic, and the completion of my contribution to the tab. Now, if anything I've written has inspired any of you, or if you thought this was complete crap and swear you could do better, then that's just fantastic. JUST WRITE! Don't just sit and wait for the content to be served up to you, if you have a word processor then nothing is stopping you from making the content! Don't wait for this site or any other to draw up the perfect story for you, at least give it a shot and try for yourself! If there's any lesson to be learned with what I've written over the years, it's that when the barrier for entry is this low, there's no reason not to try! And with that, I bid you all adieu!