Wednesday, February 23, 2011
The Stars Above
The Courier looked around the field he stood in, and saw that his job was
finnished. All around him were the bodies of NCR troops and Legionaries, with the odd secuiritron lying among them.
Tonight had been a good night.
"They shouldn't have messed with us, isn't that right dearie?" Lilly Bowen said clutching the bumper sword she held in her hands, covered in guts, among other things.
"That's right." The Courier said, punching a few buttons on his Tesla Power Armor, and snapping a picture on the camera he had gotten from a sign designer in New Vegas.
A securitron with a face matching The Courier's approached the duo in earnest.
"Hey! you did a great job slaughtering those soldiers, your majesty. And I'm not just saying that because I have to- I don't have to! Lilly you look unsettlingly ugly today!" the securitron said.
"Watch it, Yes-Man, she's good with that bumper sword." Yes-Man had been revling in his ability to be negative after the battle of hoover dam, when he had been reprogrammed so no one could bend him to his will but The Courier.
"Remind me why we gave him your face again?" Lilly mused behind The Courier.
"Oh, Lilly. Always the cynic." The Courier said, and indeed, she had changed quite a bit from her old grandma state after The Courier advisedher to take her medication. Her mind had cleared up, and her schitzoprenia was cured. The Courier pointed west, where there was a battle escalating a few miles away. He couldn't be sure but it looked like the Brotherhood Of Steel was laying some fire on the retreating forces. He touched a button on the Power Armor helmet and his vision zoomed in. He could make out a figure punching the limbs off of soldiers. "Oh, Veronica. I told you to stay at the Lucky 38." He said.
"Well, folks, I believe it's time we travelled on home, and consollidate our new empire! Whatdya say?" Yes-Man said.
The Couier agreed.
The trek back to the Lucky 38 was long, and hard, and Lilly kept complaining about a fungal infection on her foot, but when they arrived, it was all with it.
Standing at the gates of New Vegas were all the friends The Courier had made over the years. A small group of Boomers were there, Elder McNamara was there, with Veronica and a few of the other BoS members. Benny was there, in the backround, wearing his usual checkred suit, smirking a little at the irony of it all. Papa Kahn was there, with the entire clan of the Great Kahns and the integrated Vault 19 powder gangers. Cooke waved as The Courier's view passed over him. Arcade Gannon was there, the enclave remnants gaurding their vertiberd from the pesky thugs that inhabited Freeside. ED-E was with them, beeping and triggering recordings like crazy as the chatter set him off.
Cassidy was there, looking as good as ever. The Courier still remembered the wild fling they had after the victory at hoover dam. He would never forget it. And lastly, the King, backed by all his members was there, armed, and they were approaching the stand he was on.
"Hey. You look like you're having a mighty fine time. mind explaining what the hell all these armed men are doing on my turf?" He said. The Courier had a flash of dejavu. This had happened before.
"Freeside is no longer yours, King. The Mojave wasteland is my turf now." He said. He saw Rex at the King's knees, and he called down to him. "Ain't that right, Rex?" The dog barked and trotted over to The Courier. "Ain't that right, Mojave Wasteland!" He shouted at the growing crowd, which now stretched beyond the confines of Freeside. The crowd cheered loudly. The Courier hadn't thought there were this many people in the whole world.
"No, you ain't the king. I'm the king. I'm King!" King said. He pulled out something that looked rather humerously like a toy gun.
The Courier flinched. What? Hadn't he had that... oh shit. King aimed right at The Courier and let fly. The last thing The Courier saw was Benny, now at the front of the crowd, with a huge grin on his face. He could almost hear him say, from where you're at, this must look like an 18 carrat run of bad luck.