New Vegas: Sheason's Story

Empty

I found myself in the middle of a big, empty desert. It was vast, flat, and completely lifeless as far as I could see. It stretched for miles in every direction. I looked around, trying to find any kind of reference point anywhere on the horizon... but no. There weren't even any mountains. I've been in some desolate, inhospitable places before, but this...

There was nothing for it. So, I picked a direction and started walking.

I don't know how long I had been walking when I started thinking about that drug dealer, Dixon, and the last moment before I killed him. Then I realized that I wasn't actually remembering this so much as watching it unfold on the desert in front of me as I walked. I saw myself put the gun to his head. I saw myself pull the trigger. I watched as Dixon fell lifeless to the ground. Both Dixon and myself dissolved into sand and disappeared as I continued forward on my trip towards nowhere.

It made me wonder... why had I killed him? It's not like he was threatening me. He had said he was going to leave, and I told him that I'd give him at least a day to pack up before I came back. His unintentional and uncanny resemblance to my old dealer brought forth a plethora of spiteful emotions that I'd thought I'd gotten over years ago... or, at least, buried so deep that I didn't think I'd have to worry about them again. But then those feelings re-emerged, just as strong as the day I got clean, and I lashed out at the cause of those emotions, just as violently as I had lashed out at my real dealer so many years ago.

Had he deserved to die? Maybe, if what Arcade had said about Dixon supplying half of Freeside with chems was true. But should I have been the one to kill him, and like that? Had I really gotten so comfortable with murder and numb to the horrors of it over the years that I executed people at the drop of a hat now?

And that's when I started thinking: just how many people had I killed over the years? I racked my brain... and I realized I didn't know for sure. Images flashed in my head - and before my eyes on the desert sand - of all the people I'd killed in one way or another. Most of them were so indistinct that they mixed together, and I couldn't tell one murder from another. The only one that truly stood out from the rest was Benny.

You wouldn't think that my job as a courier - someone hired to deliver packages and messages from place to place - would garner such a high body count. But the fact is, murder and death are an all too common fact of life in the wasteland. Life is relatively safer for citizens of the NCR who live in places like Vault City or Shady Sands, but out in the wastes? If someone born in the wastes has reached their 16th birthday, it's a safe bet that they've killed at least one person - if only to stay alive.

Involuntarily, I started thinking about the first person I ever killed. I was still travelling and working with the caravan that brought me up. Their names, their faces... I couldn't make them out. Everything felt like a fading echo. But I remembered the ambush, and watched as it played out in front of me. No matter how fast I walked or ran, the image was still there in the desert, always in front of my eyes.

A gang of raiders had set traps in a narrow canyon, waiting for us, and started shooting at the caravan as we passed. The guards fought most of them off, but the raiders were looking for easy prey. They shot at anyone without a gun first, and only after they finished with that did they start shooting the guards. I got scared, so I dove under one of the wagons and played dead. The bullets tore through the air and the dead began to pile up around me. But I stayed still as a corpse.

Eventually there was only one caravan guard and one raider left. And then there was me. Everyone else was dead - even the brahmin were dead, either shot on purpose by the raiders just for the hell of it or caught in the crossfire. The last surviving guard - a girl, dressed in leather armor and barely over 19, I think - had been maimed badly. Both her legs were bloody and mangled, and one of her arms fell limp at her side. She tried to crawl away, but the last raider wasn't so badly hurt as she was. I watched in stunned paralysis under the wagon, still pretending I was dead, as he picked her up by the neck, and threw her against the canyon wall.

Growing up in the wastes, one of the first lessons you learn is what raiders do to people they capture. Not because it's pleasant in any way, but because it's something you need to know. As the last raider approached her, laughing with an insanely murderous glee, I didn't know if he was planning to rape her, mutilate her body, or tear her apart and eat her. Any or all of those was a possibility... and from the warnings I'd been given, it might not be in that order.

And that was when I saw the shotgun.

It was lying discarded on the ground behind him. I moved quickly and quietly, but he was laughing at her so loud that I think he only could've heard me if I was banging metal pot lids together. I leveled the shotgun as quick as I could and blew the top of his head off. The corpse teetered on its feet for a few seconds, but eventually gravity won out. The dead raider collapsed backwards, spilling blood and brains all over the canyon floor.

I put down the shotgun and tried to help her - there were a few medical supplies in one of the wagons - but she refused them all. She was too far gone, and she knew it. The amount of blood gushing out of her legs was growing rapidly every second. All she wanted... or, at least, all she asked... was for me to hold her. She told me that she didn't want to die alone.

Half an hour later, she stopped breathing. It was another hour before I let her go. Two hours after that, I finally stopped crying. I never learned her name.

I was 12 years old.

I woke from my bed with a start, positively dripping with sweat. Another nightmare. Of course. I checked the time on my Pip Boy: it was almost 9 in the morning.

"Well, that's better," I said aloud, hacking to loosen up the gunk in my throat. "At least my stupid brain had the decency to wait until I'd finished sleeping before waking me up with a nightmare..."

"Has anyone seen Boone?" I called out a few hours later. I had been looking around the suite, trying to find him, but he was nowhere to be found. I'd checked his room, because I hadn't seen him since Saturday; to my surprise, his room was as pristine as the day we'd all entered. The bed looked like it hadn't even been slept in. Hell, it didn't look like he'd used the room at all.

"Say what now?" Cass poked her head out of what I had started calling the game room: it was a room with a couch, two easy chairs, a television (off, and completely useless), a pool table, two dart boards, and a poker table in the corner.

"Who's missing?" Veronica walked out of the kitchen, Nuka Cola in hand.

"I'm looking for Boone," I said looking in the kitchen. "Have either of you seen him?"

"Didn't he say somethin' came up yesterday?" Cass asked, leaning against the doorframe to the game room.

"Are you guys talking about the guy in the red beret?" I heard Arcade's voice sound from within the game room. Cass, Veronica and I all stuck our heads in the door. Gannon was sitting in one of the easy chairs, reading what looked like a medical journal.

"Yeah, that's Boone," I said with a nod, but something connected in my head. "Have you not met him yet?"

"Not really. He departed down the elevator very shortly after you and Miss Cassidy left for the caravan site yesterday. I haven't seen him since, and he didn't really introduce himself when I arrived." I was starting to get seriously worried now. Boone was a crack shot, but even I knew he was fucked in the head. A few days (at the very least) of not sleeping, and being missing all night, combined with a room that he obviously didn't use... that wasn't a good combination.

At that moment, ED-E zoomed into the game room through one of the open windows. He beeped frantically, and the three of us standing in the door jumped out of his way as he flew inside. Arcade glared at the robot, and went back to reading.

"I don't suppose you know where Boone is, do you?" I asked the floating eyebot, half joking. What I got in response was ED-E bobbing up and down in place, like he was nodding his head... and then something really surprising happened. My Pip Boy beeped at me, and I looked at the screen. It was completely blank, except for one single word:

Follow.

And with that, ED-E zoomed back into the game room, right over Arcade's head and back out the window to the outside.

"Th' fuck was that about?" Cass asked, tipping her hat up with her thumb as she watched the robot leave. I lifted my Pip Boy so she and Veronica could see the message ED-E had sent me.

"Well, that's certainly direct," Veronica said with a smirk. "So... are we?"

"I'll go warm up the Corvega," I said with a nod. "Cass, you coming?"

"Of course. I gotta get th' fuck outta here anyway. Gettin' antsy."

"What about you, Arcade?" I called into the game room as Cass and Veronica got into the elevator. "You gonna put down the book and join us?"

"As tempting as it may be to leave this tomb, I think I'll... give it a miss, this one," Arcade said, barely looking up from his medical journal.

"You're staying put because you'd have to follow ED-E, aren't you." It wasn't really a question.

"It's entirely possible that's the reason, yes," He wrote down some notes on a nearby piece of paper. "Have fun searching for the handsome man in the red beret."

I knew ED-E was capable of considerable speed, since he was able to keep up with my Corvega over the last few days... but to be honest, I never realized until that day just how fast he could go. As soon as we got clear of Freeside's east gate, ED-E really put the hammer down. I was having trouble keeping up with him! The eyebot was zooming around, darting in and out of the ruins of broken neighborhoods, and even waiting for me to catch up in places.

Don't get me wrong - my car isn't slow. I've gotten it up to 165 miles an hour before. On the other hand, it weighed just under two and a half tons, and that was without passengers or anything in the trunk (and it always has stuff in the trunk). Because the suspension was built for rough terrain and not cornering, I needed a very flat, empty stretch of nothing to get it up that fast. And because ED-E could fly, the sharp corners he was making didn't really affect him in the least.

"So where do you suppose he's taking us?" Veronica asked from the passenger seat. On the way to the car, she'd called shotgun; I half expected Cass to fight her for it, but she just shrugged, got in the back, stretched out, and tilted her hat forward over her eyes.

"I have no idea," I said honestly. "I mean, hell, I'm still trying to work my head around how he sent a message to my Pip Boy."

"Well, sending a message to a Pip Boy isn't that difficult," Veronica replied. "It's a handy bit of kit, and it's able to send and receive highly encrypted messages with ease. If ED-E has any kind of wireless transmitter, sending a message would be child's play."

"I suppose you know how to send a message to a Pip Boy, right?" She nodded. "Was that something you learned in the Brotherhood?"

"Sort of," she shrugged. "I learned it from Father Elijah."

"Father Elijah... You've mentioned him before, haven't you?" I asked. She nodded again. "Was he your dad?"

"No," she shook her head. "Father is a title. He wasn't my dad, but he did look after me after my parents passed. Elijah was our chapter Elder when we came East. I learned a lot from him. I would say he was my tutor, but that doesn't really cover it. The whole chapter brought me up, really, but he made sure of it. I never had a grandfather - not that I knew, anyway - but Elijah was what I'd imagine a grandfather to be."

"So, you followed him from California then?" I asked, remembering her comment from the other day about how she was from California.

"It was by his request, actually. He cleared it with the other Elders... somehow. They sent him East to look into the Hoover Dam," She paused, her ever present smile fading somewhat. She looked off in the distance away from me, and her voice took on a slightly melancholy air. "There was a time when I'd have begged to follow... watch him at work."

"I'm guessing something changed?" I asked.

"He did," she said, doing her best to keep her voice level. "For years, he fought with the Council of Elders. Taught me to question our direction... but he'd become more out-of-touch than all of them. The Brotherhoods' interest is in old technology, and he wanted to explore developing new tech. There were other ways he wanted to push... other weapons, with ethics questions attached. Rather than deal with him, they just sent him East. On our way to the Dam, he demanded we stop at HELIOS One to examine it. While we were there, our scouts reported that the NCR had taken the Dam. He was furious... called it 'children playing with a bomb.' But he was mad because we'd lost its power. What we'd use it for... he didn't care."

"Forgive me for asking this," I said, scratching my head. "But how is that different from how any other Elder would've reacted? I'm still a bit iffy on some of the details about the Brotherhood."

"Other Elders are cautious," she said. "When they discover something, they respect it, learn its limits, consider how to preserve it. It used to drive Father Elijah crazy. He liked to learn limits too, but only so he could push them. I mean... that's not to excuse the other Elders - they all covet technology for its own sake. Some are just more..." she paused, searching for the right word. "...fanatical than others."

"Did you ever try and talk some sense into him?"

"Yeah... once." She cleared her throat. "He... I couldn't help him. He just didn't listen. And the idea that people talked back to him... If he could have made the Brotherhood act like machines, ordering them around with the push of a button, he would have. Even so, I still learned a lot from him."

"So..." I chose my words carefully, realizing this was probably a tender subject. "What did you learn?"

"I learned what I don't want to become," she said, her voice taking on a mournful edge, wavering slightly. "In the end, there was just him and his vision... Nothing and no one else."

The two of us sat in the car in silence for a while. The only real noise (aside from the engine) was Cass softly snoring in the backseat. Finally, I decided to break the silence.

"So what happened?"

"He disappeared."

"Disappeared?" I asked. She nodded.

"Yeah. Last time anyone saw him was in the battle at HELIOS One. I wasn't there. He gave orders to hold the plant until it could be reactivated. But he ran out of time, and the NCR overran it. Everyone thought he was dead... but then I got a note from him at a comm station. That's... how he liked to talk, even to me. He wasn't really good at face to face."

"So what was in the note?"

"It... it was strange. Even for Father Elijah. As much as it pains me to say it, he's always been unstable, but this was something else entirely. I don't want to say he was delusional, but I don't know what else to call it. The only thing familiar about it was the signature."

"Signature? What, like signing a piece of paper kind of signature?"

"No, no," she shook her head. "I mean like a radio frequency kind of signature. He always used a specific kind of radio frequency and a unique kind of dual encryption that I've never seen anyone else use. That's how I knew it was actually sent from him. He said the Brotherhood was doomed, and that he'd return to save us. But the way he said it... I don't know... He said he'd return with one of the greatest treasures of the Old World, make the Mojave like it was meant to be... wipe the slate clean..."

ED-E came to a stop a few miles south-east of Vegas, in a place my Pip Boy labeled as Henderson. I pulled the Corvega to a stop at the edge of an intersection, and checked the map on my Pip Boy - we were about 7 or 8 miles away from the 188 Trading Post. I nudged Cass awake, and the three of us left the car.

It didn't take all that long to find out why ED-E had led us here. ED-E was hovering close to a collapsed building that looked like it might have been some kind of shop before the war, but was now abandoned... except for the four Legion corpses littering the ground. Cass let out a low whistle.

"Damn... what'cha think happened here?" she said, nudging a foot of one of the Legion soldiers with the barrel of her shotgun. I knelt down and looked at the bodies closely. They looked fairly fresh - probably dead for less than a day. Three of them were dead from bullet wounds: one in the head and two in the chest for each. The last one, on the other hand, had not been shot, but instead had a very large knife buried up to the hilt in the middle of his chest, as well as a large gash across his throat.

"Boone happened here," I felt like I was stating the obvious.

The last dead Legionary was sitting up against the wall - and that was when I realized: the bodies had been arranged, and weren't lying where they died. I took a closer look at the knife, and tried to carefully pull it out. It was a bit stuck, so I really had to yank it free.

"What are you doing?" Veronica asked, leaning down. I showed the knife to her and Cass.

"It's Boone's bowie knife," I said. "It still has the blood on the hilt from that super mutant he killed the other day."

"I guess this was the something that came up," Veronica said with a chuckle.

ED-E flew around our heads, he beeped at me, and so did my Pip Boy. A different message flashed on the screen:

Fly Far Fly Fast.

We followed the eyebot as he flew along, just above the highway. We went past the 188, turned south on highway 95, and kept going. I saw the giant T-Rex of Novac approach in the distance, and at first I thought that's where we were heading... but then just as we got to the intersection where Novac sat, ED-E veered left, and went east down 165.

"Whoa!" Cass yelled, clutching her hat, sliding across the backseat and into one of the doors. "Easy there, sunshine! Little warning'd be nice!" It's entirely possible that I may have jerked the car just a little too violently, trying to get onto the on ramp and avoiding one of the rusted wrecks partially blocking the entrance.

"Hey, don't blame me, blame the flying robot zooming around at a million miles an hour, changing directions at the drop of a hat!" I was suddenly glad Arcade wasn't in the car , and I wasn't entirely sure why.

"He's probably only doing 90," Veronica chimed in helpfully.

"Thank you, V, I was merely exaggerating for effect." I said with a sigh.

We followed ED-E for only 5 minutes after the turn before we came across a single solitary figure walking along the road. Even before I saw the red beret and the rifle slung across his back, I knew it was Boone. There was no one else it could've been. ED-E came to a stop and hovered in the air above him, and when he heard the Corvega approaching, Boone stopped and turned towards us.

"Hey stranger," I said, bringing the car to a halt less than two feet away from him. I grabbed his bowie knife off the dashboard, and handed it to him hilt first. "You dropped your knife a few miles back. Need a lift?"

"How'd you find me?" He asked, his face expressionless as he took the knife and put it back in its sheath. I pointed to the sky, and he looked up at ED-E, who merely beeped happily.

"So, what're ye doin' out here?" Cass asked, leaning out the back window.

"Just some business," He looked down the road, off in the direction he was walking before we caught up with him. "Didn't think it concerned you."

"Yeah..." I nodded. "Maybe it doesn't. But you helped me deal with my unpleasant business of finding Benny, and dealing with him. Only seems fair that I'd offer to help with yours. You know we're your mates. All you ever needed was to ask."

"There's no caps for this business. That's why I didn't mention it," he said, continuing to stare off in the distance. "The only thing on offer is dead Legionaries." He turned to look at me. "Is that going to be a problem?"

"That's not a problem," I said with a smirk. "That's a solution." Boone returned the smirk, and chuckled softly.

"Damn right," He said. "You and me, we're just a couple of problem solvers." And with that, he got in the backseat.

"So, where are we going?" I asked as I put the car back in gear.

"A small town just up the road," Boone pointed needlessly. "Nelson."

I remembered that name. I'd heard it only a few days before, the last time we were in Novac - Manny mentioned it right before all that nonsense at REPCONN:

Caesars Legion? They've been taking territory just east of here. Last I heard, they took Nelson. If we… if I let our guard down, even for a minute, they might attack. All it takes for the Legion is for them to sense weakness.

"What's in Nelson?" Veronica asked.

"Legion camp," Boone replied. "Used to be NCR, till the raiding parties pushed them back. Now, most of the troops are at Forlorn Hope, about a mile and a half north."

"So, why are we going to Nelson?" I asked. "You know, just out of morbid curiosity."

"I got a call yesterday morning on my emergency radio," Boone reached into his back pocket, and pulled out a surprisingly compact radio, holding it high enough for me to see it in the rear view mirror. "It was from Ranger Andy."

"Who?" Cass asked.

"Retired NCR ranger, living in Novac. He took my shift in the dinosaur's mouth so I could leave. He's a decent shot, and has been looking to prove he's not useless the last few months."

"Why?" asked Veronica. "Just 'cause he's retired?"

"No. His leg is crippled. He was wounded in action several years ago against Legion. They use child soldiers, because they know we'll hesitate. The kid had a grenade." Boone said grimly. "He called me because he's seen increased Legion patrols the last two nights, coming from Nelson. And since I'm not stuck in the dinosaur's mouth anymore, would I be able to help?"

"Well, I hope the plan to help isn't just 'storm into Nelson and kill every Legionnaire we see until we're dead," I said, hoping - praying - in the back of my mind that wasn't Boone's plan. His silence wasn't exactly comforting. I added quickly "That isn't the plan, right?"

"No," He said, and I breathed a silent sigh of relief. "Andy told me to talk to a Ranger Milo before doing anything. He's manning a roadblock on the 165, just outside the town."

Roadblock was a bit of an understatement.

There were sandbag barricades stretching far beyond the road to the edge of a nearby ridge, bunkers and watch towers built out of scrap metal, an old world deuce-and-a-half with the two-headed bear of the NCR painted on the doors parked a few yards from the road, and at least half a dozen NCR soldiers that I could see.

When I pulled the car off to the side of the road, an NCR Ranger approached. This guy didn't look like a cowboy, with a Stetson, sunglasses, and a kerchief a around his neck like the other rangers I'd seen at the Mojave Outpost; this man looked like a real soldier. The olive drab colored armor he wore looked like it was made out of the same kind of ceramic-composite material that made old world combat armor resistant to small arms fire. It certainly looked sturdier than the flimsy padding the rest of the NCR soldiers were wearing. Perched atop his head was a broad-brimmed felt hat with a high crown, pinched symmetrically at four corners - a campaign hat, I think is what it's called. He had a lever action rifle in his hands and at the ready as he walked towards me. The only thing about him that didn't immediately say "military" to me was his very impressive black beard he wore on his face.

"Hold up there," he said, holding up a hand to me as I got out of the car. "This area is locked down by the NCR military until we can dislodge those Legion snakes from Nelson. I'm afraid you're going to have to leave this controlled area."

"It's alright," Boone said, stepping out of the backseat. "They're with me. You're Ranger Milo, right?" The ranger looked at Boone appraisingly.

"I am. Who are you?"

"My name is Craig Boone. Ranger Andy up at Novac should've called to let you know I was coming."

"Ah..." Milo nodded slowly, realization dawning as he finally noticed Boone's red beret. "Yeah, Andy called earlier and said something about sending some help. Didn't think he'd get a First Recon soldier to help me out."

"Former First Recon," Boone replied simply.

"Still, your skills would be useful right now. You were at Bitter Springs when First Recon was sent there, right?"

"I was in a lot of places with First Recon," Boone said, stone-faced and with a well rehearsed response. "I don't really remember."

"So what's the problem with the Legion?" I asked, trying to find out just what we were supposed to do. Milo turned to me and scoffed.

"Hell, what ain't the trouble with the Legion. A few Legion squads jumped the camp in Nelson while the troopers were setting up. Captured a bunch of gear and took the town. Couple of troopers too - got 'em crucified down near the center of town."

Images of Nipton flashed in my head - heads on pikes, bodies nailed to telephone poles stuck in the ground like crosses, a body burning on a pile of tires.

"There any way we can help?" I heard Cass say from the other side of the car. Milo just laughed.

"If you had a few dozen doses of Psycho on you, maybe we could pep these weepy troopers into charging down into Nelson and taking back the camp. I can't order them down - Rangers are a different branch, so I don't have authority - but these boys are as green as a Super Mutant's backside, and they'd probably start crying as soon as they saw the hostages get so much as a bruise. They don't have the stomach for it. So, I guess I'll have to settle for Boone helping me take out the Legion's trooper hostages."

Boone stiffened almost imperceptibly, but remained impassive. I think I was the only one who noticed.

"Take 'em out?" Cass blurted out. "You mean kill 'em? Why?"

"It's a dirty game the Legion likes to roll out whenever they get a chance. The troopers won't go down into the camp with their comrades at risk. Problem is, Ranger Milo doesn't want to play. If we take out the hostages, they've got squat for leverage."

"Can't we rescue them?" I asked. I looked to Boone. His face remained expressionless.

"Back at 'Ranger School,' they taught us not to run headlong into battle when you're outnumbered ten to one," Milo said. "You want to go down there and try to haul those crippled boys off those poles? You're dumber than you look. As soon as we clear out the hostages, they lose their advantage. They're down in a clearing, crucified on some telephone poles. I can cover you from the ridge with Carmine," he hefted his rifle, letting me know what he was talking about. "Just make it quick. These boys should be put out of their misery, not plinked to death with some old varmint rifle."

The four of us stood next to my car as the ranger walked away towards the ridge. ED-E hovered close by and beeped. We all looked to Boone - this was his fight. We were just along for the ride.

"So," I said to him. "What's the plan, boss?"

Boone was silent for a very long time. Even ED-E stayed silent, allowing Boone time and silence to think. Eventually, he turned to me, gazed at me from behind those sunglasses of his, and spoke up with a fierce determination in his voice that could melt steel.

"To hell with mercy killing. We're getting those men out of there."

Nelson was a lot smaller than I was expecting. There were less than ten buildings on the other side of the ridge, and only two dirt roads just off the broken paved road trying to pass for a highway. There were two guard towers like the ones built at the roadblock - one at each end of the town - and I could see two Legionaries standing guard at the closest.

Two muffled gunshots later, they fell.

"Let's go," I said. The group of us crouched low to the ground, approaching slowly and as silently as we could towards the town... all of us except ED-E, who was flying around, keeping watch high above us. By the time we got between one of the buildings, something began nagging at the back of my mind - where were all the Legion troops? I had been checking my Pip Boy's compass, but aside from the two in the guard tower, there weren't any nearby.

When I turned the corner, I finally saw the NCR troopers. There were three of them, crucified on telephone poles and facing one another. The platform where the telephone pole crosses were planted was surrounded by sandbags and piles of tires. Based on where they were and the buildings surrounding them, I could tell why Milo hadn't just shot them already - there wasn't a clear line of sight from the ridge to this part of the town. Which also meant he couldn't cover us.

And that was when everything went to hell.

"Profligate interlopers!" I heard a voice shout. On the other side of the platform where the troopers were crucified, a Legion soldier had spotted me. He drew a crude machete from his belt and rushed towards us; I took aim with Roscoe and he yelled again. "Die, in the name of Ca-"

There was an explosion of blood from his neck, and he toppled backwards before he could finish. Boone rushed past me, the barrel of his rifle still smoking. The rest of us followed him towards the platform.

"C'mon, we gotta get these boys cut down!" He said, tossing me the machete, and pulling out his own bowie knife. I could hear bells start to ring all around, and indistinct voices shouting orders. Even worse, I heard the sounds of dogs barking, and getting closer.

I got a close look at the nearest crucified soldier, and breathed a sigh of relief: they hadn't been nailed to these crosses. There were only a few pieces of rope around each wrist and their feet. A few quick hacks with the machete, and the nearest NCR trooper was free. The soldier I'd helped down - a black man who looked barely out of his teens - latched onto me.

"Are... are you for real?" he asked. He shook visibly as he spoke. I nodded, and turned to my friends. Between the four of us, we were able to get all three of them down. I could see the Legion troops starting to rush towards us from all sides. Boone had started firing the moment the last soldier had been freed, and already the mob was thinning out considerably.

"We gotta get out of here," I said, helping the trooper back onto his feet. He didn't fall over, so that was a good sign. "Cass, Veronica - lead these guys back up the ridge to the checkpoint. Boone and I will draw their fire and cover your escape." The two of them nodded, leading the soldiers back the way we came. Boone reloaded his rifle. I knelt down, took aim with Roscoe, and let VATS work its magic as the two of us started firing into the advancing Legion troops. ED-E zoomed down from the sky and started firing his laser at them as well.

These Legion soldiers were dressed in salvaged sports equipment and leathers, and most of them coming at us were armed with little more than machetes. Boone and I (mostly Boone, I admit) had already killed a total of eight Legionaries and three dogs. If we were fighting raiders, like Vipers, Jackals, or even Khans, and that many of their number had been killed by two men, the rest of them would've scattered. The remaining Legion soldiers paid no attention to casualties, and rushed at us with a seemingly suicidal overconfidence.

The sight was unsettling, I admit. But it didn't really help them against a First Recon sniper with unnatural accuracy, a flying robot with a military grade laser, and a pissed off courier with a 9mm and VATS.

Boone fired one last time, and the last Legion trooper fell. Nelson was silent for a minute or two. I looked around and mentally took stock: all together, we'd killed sixteen Legion troops and six dogs. The smell of death hung in the air.

"Let's get out of here before more Legion troops arrive," I said to Boone. He nodded, and turned to leave, but stopped, and turned back to me.

"Mercy killing is a last resort. Glad you recognized we had options."

"I have to admit, I didn't think you could do it," Milo said as Boone and I returned to the NCR checkpoint. The three soldiers we'd helped off the crosses were sitting on the back of the deuce-and-a-half, getting looked after by a medic. "Guess that makes me the sap and you the hero."

"If you want to thank anyone, thank Boone. He did most of the killing," I shrugged.

"Still... thanks," He shook my hand, and I walked away, back towards my car. I didn't know where Veronica or Cass had run off to, but Boone was sitting on the hood of my Corvega, cleaning his rifle. He looked deep in thought, like he wasn't even really paying attention to what he was doing.

"Hey. You doin' alright?" I asked.

"Mercy killing is expected of NCR snipers," he said, not even looking up from his task. "The Legion likes to torture their prisoners within sight of NCR positions. We get called on to end it. I've had my share..." He sighed, and stopped cleaning his rifle. "Some of them, you think, maybe you could've gotten them out," He finally looked up at me. "Maybe it's not the Legion that got them killed. Maybe it's your orders and you following them."

There was something in the inflection of his words... something in the way he spoke about mercy killing that made me wonder, and start to put pieces together in my head. So I took a gamble.

"Boone," I sat down next to him on the hood of my car. "I think it's time you told me what really happened to your wife."

"I don't see what that helps," He growled. "She's dead."

"I just... I feel like it's important. And the better we understand each other, the more effective we'll be."

He let out a sigh heavy enough to be made of lead. He swallowed hard, and began to nod slowly.

"All right... here it is. She... I tracked her down. Southeast, near the river. They were selling her. Saw it through my scope. Whole place swarming with Legion. Not like here - there were hundreds of them. Bidding for things no man has a right to. I just had my rifle with me. Just me, against all of them, so..." His voice started to waver, and he locked his jaw up to compose himself. He looked away from me when he spoke next.

"I took the shot."

The two of us sat in silence for a minute or two. I shook my head - I'd been expecting something like that, to be honest, but it was still awful. I tried to think of something to say, to be a good friend. Or at least a decent human being.

"You did the right thing," I said finally. "It's a horrible situation, but it's better to die than live as a slave."

"Yeah," his voice was gruff - more than usual. "What they do to women... that's worse than death. There was no choice in what I did. No decision. It was more like... being forced to watch something you can't stop. I was meant to pull that trigger. It was a mistake to think I could escape it. You take out a debt, it's only a matter of time before someone comes collecting. Things just finally caught up with me."

That was surprisingly more philosophical than I was expecting from Boone. I furrowed my brow and looked at him questioningly.

"You make it sound like your wife's death was inevitable."

"It was gonna be something. If I'd never met Carla, it would've been something else. I should've never gotten close to her," He turned to me, and I finally caught a glimpse of his eyes from behind his sunglasses... and it was like he wasn't really seeing me. It was like he was seeing beyond. They were tired, and cold, and empty - the eyes of a man who had seen way too much way too often. "I've got bad things coming to me. You'd better keep your distance, too."

"That's the second time you've told me you have bad things coming to you," I said, remembering his words from the other night. "Why?" He looked away and back towards the horizon.

"Because fair is fair."

"What, you're not going to tell me?"

"No. Sorry."