New Vegas: Sheason's Story

Welcome back, ladies and gentlemen. This is Mr. New Vegas. Time for some news. I've just received a report that the NCR flag has been hoisted over former Legion outpost Nelson after several days of heavy fighting. Unconfirmed reports indicate, however, that the bulk of the Legion occupying force was wiped out by a small group of heavily armed civilians, but the commander of Camp Forlorn Hope is denying that claim. Either way, NCR officials are calling this a big win for troop morale. Today's headlines were brought to you by the Tumbleweed Club: Rest your spurs and relax in Freeside. And now, I'd like to play one of my very favorite songs for you: it's Ring of Fire by Johnny Cash.

"I'm sure you're all wondering why I called you in here this morning," I said with my arms folded behind me, walking into the kitchen. Cass, Boone, Veronica, and Arcade were all sitting around the table, and they all looked up from their food when I spoke up.

"Uhh..." Cass still had a spoon hanging out of her mouth. "Not really. S'breakfast, an' we're all hungry."

"Either way," I pulled out one of the chairs and sat down. "I think it's time I told you all about the job."

"The job?" Arcade asked.

"Yes. The job. The big one. The one House has hired me - and by extension, all of you - to carry out. Remember?" I said. Arcade just shrugged.

"I guess today's as good a day as any," Arcade went back to eating his omelet. "I mean, it's Monday, isn't it?" Cass chuckled to herself.

"You are in the house of Elrond, and it is ten o'clock in the morning. On October the 24th, if you want to know," Cass said aloud, with surprising clarity and lack of slurred speech. She looked up from her bowl of sugar bombs and was greeted by a table of blank stares... well, blank stares from everyone except Arcade.

"Who the hell is Elrond?" I asked, seriously confused. Veronica shrugged.

"Don't look at me, I don't know what she's talking about."

"Nev'rmind..." Cass grumbled and went back to her cereal.

"And here I thought I was the only one who read those books," Arcade nodded at her with a smile. I just shook my head, and pulled the Platinum Chip out of my pants pocket.

"Look, we're getting off topic," I set the chip on the table with an audible thunk, just to make sure everyone was paying attention. "Here's the deal: House has hired me to take this chip to a bunker at Fortification Hill. And we need to put our heads together and figure out the best way to approach this."

"Hang on," Arcade put a hand up, and looked at me over his glasses. "Fortification Hill? This is the same Fortification Hill where Caesar has set up shop, correct?"

"Yes. Yes it is," I said, nodding.

"Well, this certainly explains why you didn't want to tell us right away," Veronica took a sip of Nuka Cola after she spoke.

"Forgive me," Arcade pushed his glasses back up the bridge of his nose. "But I don't really wish to play the Virgil to your Dante."

"It's not like the plan is to head up there for tea with Caesar, Arcade," I said with a scowl. "The last thing House wants is for the Legion to take the dam and conquer the Mojave."

I remembered my chat with House from a few nights ago: "If the Legion defeats the NCR at Hoover Dam, or if General Oliver's 'Tunnel Vision' strategy, by some miracle, manages to defeat the Legion... let's just say that both scenarios would be bad for business, Mr. Fisher. I can't let either the NCR or the Legion win on their terms..."

"I thought the whole reason you were talking with us was because you didn't have a plan." Veronica said, resting her chin on her hands.

"Not... as such, no," I admitted. "But then, a complete and utter lack of a plan didn't really stop me from killing Benny, did it?" I smirked, trying to play it off like I really did know what I was doing. Veronica thought a minute, and seemed to concede the point with a shrug. Arcade, on the other hand...

"You know, I wasn't there, so I only know about what happened at the Tops from what you told me. But I can tell you now, dealing with Benny and the Chairmen is going to be a cakewalk compared to Caesar's Fort, if even half the stories I've heard about the Legion are true. But more to the point - how are we going to get there? As far as I know, the only way into Caesar's Fort is by crossing Hoover Dam, and the NCR has the mother of all blockades built to prevent anyone from going in or coming out of the Arizona side."

"I admit, that's a bit of a problem. I haven't quite worked out how we can even get to the Fort, much less get inside..." I stroked my chin - force of habit from when I had a much fuller beard. Stroking your chin in thought doesn't really have the same feel when it's only stubble.

"I know how we can get there." It was the first time Boone had spoken up today, and everyone turned to look at him. His face remained impassive behind his sunglasses.

"Cottonwood Cove."

I checked the map on my Pip Boy. Cottonwood Cove was a small port, about 13 and a half miles east of Searchlight, and quite a ways south of Hoover Dam... and the only way to get to the Arizona side without crossing the dam itself was by boat, traveling who knows how many miles upriver. Looking at it, it made sense. If the NCR had been fortifying the coast, but didn't have the manpower to completely cover everywhere, then Cottonwood Cove would be the perfect Legion staging area: easy access to both coasts by river, but far enough out of the way as to not be noticed.

"Are you sure?" I asked. Boone simply nodded.

"I'm sure. If you can get me to Cottonwood Cove, I can get us to The Fort."

After breakfast, nearly everyone left to run errands around Freeside and The Strip. I couldn't really blame them. I promised Boone that we'd all head to Cottonwood Cove tonight to scout it out - and if the opportunity presented itself, sneak into the Fort. I figured that it wouldn't hurt to have a little extra firepower (and possibly some actual armor) just in case things went sideways. Which is why I was leaving for an errand of my own.

I was in the elevator and Veronica jumped in just as the doors were about to close, throwing herself against the back wall with a dull thud of metal against metal.

"You know, if you'd asked I would've held the door open for you. There is a button for that." She just shrugged.

"Well, I'm quick enough, so you didn't need to. You're heading to the Gun Runners, right?" I nodded. "Mind if I tag along?"

"Sure," I pressed the button to take us to the casino floor. "Maybe you can tell me about the Brotherhood on the way there."

"Yeah, well, it pays like ass, but it's hard to get other work with my skill set," she smirked as the elevator descended. "What do you want to know?"

"I suppose the first thing I'm curious about - have you told Arcade yet?"

"Ah-heh..." She looked sheepish. "Not... yet."

"You know you're going to have to tell him eventually."

"I know, I know, it's just that..." Veronica shrugged. "Well, to be honest, I wouldn't have told anybody yet if you hadn't figured it out the other night. Hell, Boone hasn't said a single word to me since The Tops."

"Boone hardly speaks to anyone," I tried to reassure her. "What does that have to do with anything?" The elevator doors opened, and the two of us walked towards the front door of the Lucky 38.

"He's NCR, through and through. A blind man could see it in a minute. It's why he still wears that beret - he isn't in the army anymore, but he's a believer. He believes in the cause, and in the will of the NCR to control the wasteland." The two of us walked around the Lucky 38 to the underground garage, towards where my Corvega was parked.

"I ask again," I said. "What does that have to do with anything?"

"The NCR and the Brotherhood of Steel have been at war for decades," she stated simply. "Do you remember how I said my parents were killed? They died in a battle against the NCR years ago. I don't remember what they were killed trying to defend... I guess it seemed important at the time..." she trailed off for a moment, but shook it away and continued. "The point is, Boone is NCR to the core. And to the NCR, the Brotherhood is an enemy."

"Do you think he's going to cause problems because you're Brotherhood and he's NCR?" I asked.

"Look, I just want to make sure there won't be any trouble from Arcade if... when I tell him," she sighed. "To be frank, I'm not all that worried about Boone. He's more focused on fighting Legion than worrying about me, I think. I'm more worried that the NCR is going to be the death of the Brotherhood. They take what they want. We defend our interests to the death. But there's a handful of us, and tens or hundreds of thousands of them. So it's not going to end well."

"Nothing ever ends well in the wasteland," I mused, thinking about Boone's words from yesterday. Veronica continued.

"Last time the Brotherhood and NCR clashed, we lost a lot of people and retreated to the bunker. Now, we're afraid to even move around during the day."

"So," I said as the two of us finally reached my car. "The rest of the Brotherhood in the Mojave is hiding out underground. But you still haven't told me: what exactly does the Brotherhood do, anyway? I'm still not really all that clear on that point. I mean, hell, you're the first member I think I've ever met."

"Heh," she chuckled, sliding into the passenger seat. "That's a good question. To be honest... these days, it's hard to say. Once upon a time, it was about... protecting people, I guess."

"Protecting people? What, like from raiders and slavers? Feral ghouls and insane mutants? Things like that?"

"Oh no," she waved it off and smiled at me. "We don't do that. I'm talking about protecting people from themselves, and only in the sense that we don't let them have any of the good Pre-War toys. The idea is controlling technology, so that it doesn't get the chance to destroy us again. Energy weapons and powered armor are usually on the top of our list, although I appreciate anything that's vintage. But all that seems... I don't know, it just seems so limited now."

"Not really the word I would use," I said. "Pointless is more how I'd describe that mission. Even if you had the numbers of the NCR military, you wouldn't be able to confiscate every piece of Pre-War tech out there in the wastes."

"Maybe... maybe that's true. But it seems limited to me, because we haven't grown or adapted. The Brotherhood is stuck in a hole, and it seems like all we're doing is protecting ourselves, hoping to outlive everyone else in the outside world and become humanity's sole heirs."

"It sounds to me like you're pretty disillusioned with the whole business," I offered. She just sighed and shook her head.

"Yeah, I know I'm whining and complaining and moaning. Trust me, I know what I sound like. But there's still something that rings true to me about our code. There's a sort of... honor to it. I mean, we really do want to protect people. Even if it's from themselves, it's a good cause. It's just..." she hesitated, seemingly searching for the right words.

"The Brotherhood gets so focused on details that they lose sight of the big picture," I finished the thought for her, and she nodded in agreement.

"We treat all our practices with the same sacredness. Every member, from scribe to knight to paladin to elder, we all follow The Word, as written in the Codex. Deviation is not tolerated."

"The Codex?" I arched an eyebrow at her.

"The Codex is... well, think of it as The Big Book of the Brotherhood."

"Try and say that three times fast," I said with a soft laugh.

"Well, quite. If it's in there, we have to abide it. If it's not... well, then it's not important. Aside from documenting the laws and regulations we live by, it also documents our history. Before I was made a procurement specialist, I was a scribe, and part of a scribe's duty is to update it occasionally." Veronica tapped her chin. "Hmm... I wonder..."

"Sounds to me like you're plotting something," I smirked. She just smiled and shook her head.

"Nah," she said, more to herself than to me. "They'd probably catch it if I rewrote the Founder's Axioms."

The Gun Runners are one of those rare success stories that you almost never hear about in the wasteland. The way I always heard it told, they got their start in the Boneyard sometime in the 2160's as a small-time weapons dealer, operating out of a single site. Fast forward a few decades, and everyone from Dayglow to Klamath knows about the Gun Runners: the premier source of high quality arms and ammunition anywhere in the wasteland.

And unlike most weapon suppliers out there, they don't salvage weapons - they make them. They have franchises and factories practically everywhere, and they're so good at what they do, the NCR has contracted with them to supply their army with guns, bullets, explosives, body armor... if it's used by NCR infantry, it was probably made by the Gun Runners .

In the Mojave, the Gun Runners operate out of a factory outside the Vegas wall, less than a mile south of Freeside's east gate. I noticed it when I first came to Vegas, and spent an hour driving around the wall trying to find the entrance. The building was essentially a kiosk, connected to a small, two story factory behind it. I couldn't really get a decent look at the factory itself. It was surrounded by a chain link fence, with another wall behind that. The sign above the kiosk, proclaiming this building in large welded steel letters that you were, indeed, at the "GUN RUNNERS" was lit up from below with two tiny spotlights.

"I think that's the first sign in Vegas I've seen without neon," Veronica said after I parked the Corvega nearby.

"I think you're right," I agreed, walking up to the kiosk. It was essentially just a wooden box and was manned by a Protectron-model robot behind a sheet of thick glass. Beneath the glass window was a metal slot, which looked large enough to accommodate sniper rifles or suits of combat armor. Next to the window was a computer terminal. Knowing the Gun Runners, the inside of the box was probably lined with steel and Kevlar, and the glass had been bulletproofed. Behind the robot was some manner of conveyor belt, with several weapons attached to it.

"WELCOME SIR OR MADAM." The robot spoke in loud mechanical voice, free of inflection or emotion. "DO YOU WISH TO PURCHASE SOMETHING?"

"I'm not sure yet," I said, trying to get a good look at some of the weapons on the conveyor belt. One of them was a rifle almost four feet long. Judging from the size and shape of the barrel, it looked chambered for .50 MG rounds... A gun like that could probably blow a deathclaw in half, if you hit it in the right spot. I considered it for half a minute, and then realized something like that would be absurdly expensive.

"Hey, Veronica? What do you want?" There was a part of my brain that seemed to realize the absurdity of asking her what kind of weapon she wanted, the same way I'd ask someone if they wanted something from a corner store in Shady Sands.

"Hmm? Oh, sorry, I wasn't paying attention. What's up?"

"I asked you what you wanted." I repeated.

"What do I want?" She looked confused.

"I'm not gonna say it a third time." I turned back to looking at the weapons on display as she thought. Finally, she spoke up.

"I want... a dress."

What.

"Run that by me again?" I turned away from the robot, and couldn't help but stare. I'll be honest, that caught me a little by surprise.

"I want a dress!" She said with considerably more enthusiasm the second time. "A good one. Something elegant and classy, but still stylish. Something that's eye-catching and sexy, but also says 'don't fuck with me,' you know?"

I was stunned. I didn't know what to say. The reason it probably caught me by surprise was that I didn't really think of Veronica as a girl. I suppose I kept forgetting she was one. How, I'm not sure. But still. She wasn't quite finished speaking yet.

"I keep hoping that I'll find something - you know, some Old World designer gown - when I'm scavenging, but it never happens. Some days, I think I should move back to California."

"You know, as interesting as that is," I finally said when I found my voice "I was actually wondering if you wanted anything from here." I jabbed a thumb at the robot inside the shack. "I could be wrong, but I don't think they sell dresses here." I paused half a second, then turned to the robot.

"Do you sell dresses here?" Robots had been surprising me left and right the last few days. So what the hell, right?

"I AM UNABLE TO PROCESS YOUR REQUEST." It bleated. I turned back to Veronica, who was blushing so fiercely, I was surprised her robe wasn't catching on fire.

"Sorry, no dice," I smiled smugly.

"Alright, fine!" She practically shouted, her face flush with embarrassment. She crossed her arms over her chest, looked away from me, and scowled. "I didn't understand what you meant. Jerkface."

"Hey, don't take it so seriously, I didn't mean anything by it. I was just having a little fun with you, that's all," I turned back to the robot. "Do you have any melee weapons? Mods for a power fist? Things like that?"

"I AM READY TO PROCESS YOUR TRANSACTION," It pointed a claw-hand in the direction of the computer terminal. "PLEASE, USE THE TERMINAL TO SELECT THE ITEMS YOU WISH TO PREVIEW."

"Oooh!" Veronica had suddenly appeared next to me, looking into the kiosk through the window as the weapons trundled along on the conveyor belt. "Is that a two-step goodbye? I think it is!" She was pointing at something that looked like it could've been a power fist, but instead of a metal plate on pneumatic pistons, there was a pair of what looked like shotgun barrels mounted to the top.

"So..." I cycled through the selections on the terminal, watching as the guns passed by. "A dress, huh?"

"I thought you were done teasing me about that!" I heard her say indignantly.

"I'm not teasing," I said honestly. "I'm actually legitimately curious now. Why a dress?"

"Hey, you try getting a date wearing Brotherhood Scribe robes! Might as well be wearing sweatpants," I just shook my head and smiled as she continued. "I just like 'em, you know? A nice dress... it makes you feel like a woman, you know?"

"No, I don't actually know that feeling. My equipment in the trouser department is rather different."

"Wise-ass."

"I'll be honest, I didn't peg you for liking something like that."

"And why not?" She took on a playfully insulted air.

"Well..." I tried to think of how I could phrase this diplomatically. "Because most of the lesbians that I've met over the years... usually, if they're into mechanical things like guns and power fists and taking engines apart, and other kinds of hands-on engineering, they aren't really into things like dresses, or makeup, or pastel ponies, or any other kinds of traditionally 'girly' endeavors."

"Hey now, just because I crack skulls and turn heads into red paste during my day job doesn't mean that I don't like to feel sexy every once in a while!"

I nodded, conceding that she had a fair point.

"Oh, neat!" She pressed her nose against the glass again. "A hydraulically-actuated super sledge!"

Authors Note: Well, folks, that's it. When I started posting this story, I'd given myself what I thought was a huge buffer, but now my posted chapters have caught up with what I've written. So, unless I become incredibly inspired and write 10 chapters in the next day or so, I won't be able to post chapters every Friday. I'll post them whenever they get done... whenever that might be. So if you've been looking forward to this every Friday, I apologize.