New Vegas: Sheason's Story

Welcome back to the program, I'm Mr. New Vegas, and it looks like it's gonna be another gorgeous day out there in the Mojave Wasteland. Got some news later on in the program, but first the weather. It should be a rather pleasant day out there, with highs in the greater New Vegas area hitting the 77º mark, alongside mostly cloudy skies. The sandstorms along the I-15 between Primm and the Mojave outpost are finally starting to die down, but travelers should still exercise caution. Coming up next is one of my very favorite songs, just for you: It's Peggy Lee and the Dave Barbour Quintet, asking "Why Don't You Do Right?"

You know, when Cass said she wanted to leave first thing in the morning, perhaps it was foolish and naïve of me to expect to leave first thing in the morning.

It was a little after 11 a.m. when I stepped into the kitchen-dining room, and I still hadn't seen anything of Cass. Or Veronica, for that matter. Boone and Arcade, on the other hand, were both here. Arcade was up by the counter, fixing himself some kind of drink (tea, from the looks of it) while Boone was sitting at the table in front of a massive amount of guns on top of a greasy sheet laid out on the table. All told, there were several dozen cleaning supplies, his DKS-501 (disassembled), his scoped hunting rifle (also disassembled), a .38 double-action revolver, a .44 magnum revolver, a 9mm pistol, a weathered looking N99 10mm pistol, and a small frame pistol that couldn't have been chambered for more than .380 ACP.

I let out a slow whistle. "Damn, Boone. That's an impressive collection you got going there."

"You're not the only one who visits the Gun Runners," Boone said with a shrug. He picked up the .38, blew though the barrel, and used one of the brushes to start cleaning it.

"Boone, do you honestly have to clean your guns here? I don't think the dining area is the place for this sort of thing," Arcade said, sipping on the tea he'd made. Boone stopped cleaning and looked up at Arcade, confused.

"What do you mean? Only place with a table big enough." He had a point, given the two rifles in front of him, I'll give him that much. Arcade just chuckled, and set his mug on the counter.

"Of course, of course. In that case..." Arcade walked over to Boone's workspace, and picked up the small frame pistol. "Every well-bred marksman knows that the small concealable weapons always go to the far left of the place setting." He punctuated his point by clicking the slide back in place, and set the pistol back down with a smile; Boone just stared at it... and then he smiled back, chuckling a little. Personally, I thought it was hilarious.

"Hey, have either of you guys seen Cass?" I asked, leaning on one of the chairs. "I haven't seen her all morning."

"Have you checked Veronica's room?" Arcade said, reaching for his tea.

"Seriously?" I asked. "They can't still be going at it, can they?" I heard Arcade snort a laugh, and try to hide it behind the mug. "Wait, what am I saying?"

"Sure they can," Boone said, returning to his guns. I couldn't help but sigh.

"Right. Well. Needs must," I got off the chair and started to walk out. "I'll see you two later. If I can drag the two lovebirds apart, Cass and I are gonna head out for some business."

"Have fun!" Arcade gave a weak mock-salute. All Boone did was look up from his pistol, and nod slightly.

I walked out into the main hallway of the suite, trying to figure out how best to go about disturbing those two (Should I knock? Should I just wait outside the room until they're finished? Should I roll a flash bang in there to get their attention?) when a solution was presented by the problem solving itself. I'll be honest, that was a bit of a surprise because, as I'm sure you're quite aware, that just doesn't happen with me.

Cass was standing at the threshold of Veronica's room. She was fully dressed, had her shotgun slung across her shoulder, and she looked ready to go... except for the fact that she and Veronica were locking lips through the cracked-open door. Honestly, they looked like they were searching for each others tonsils. Veronica was wrapped in a sheet, and her (surprisingly long - it went to the middle of her back, at least) black hair was falling loose around her. Veronica took a hand, gently caressing the side of Cass' face, and ran the tips of her fingers through red hair...

Ahem. I went somewhere else there for a minute, I apologize.

My trance was finally interrupted when the door shut, and I suddenly realized where I was and what I was supposed to be doing. Cass walked towards me, face flush but otherwise unassuming; it looked enough like the "whiskey blossoms" she got when she drank too much that I started questioning if I'd actually seen what I thought I saw, or if I'd just imagined it.

"So, y'ready t'go?" Cass asked, hitting the button to call the elevator. I just rubbed my eyes and sighed.

"Look, I know I said I wasn't going to force you to do anything, but what sort of time do you call this? You said you wanted to leave first thing in the morning, and it is now-" I lifted up my Pip Boy to check the time. "-precisely on the dot of 11:07. Hardly the break of dawn here." The elevator dinged and the doors slid open with that eerie silence. Without even waiting for the doors to open fully, Cass rushed inside.

"Waitin' on you now."

"So..." We were about 5 minutes into the drive. Cass had settled in, and was busy drinking from her flask. "How do Veronica's tonsils taste?"

"Sorry, what?" Cass lowered the flash, and wiped her mouth. "I wasn't payin' attention. What was that?"

"I said, how are things going with you and Veronica?"

"Umm..." Cass looked a bit nervous, and quickly took another drink from her flask. "Fine? Things'r goin' jus'... fine, y'know?"

"Really?" I asked, thoroughly unconvinced.

"No, not really. Well, I mean, yes, it's... but it's..." Cass sighed, and took another drink from her flask - and then upended it, revealing just how empty it was. "Fuck. S'complicated, alright?" Cass reached between her legs and under the seat, pulling out another bottle of whiskey.

"... How long have you been keeping that in my car?" I asked.

"Long 'nuff," Cass smirked, pulling off the stopper with a pop. "Y'know, I never had t'deal with this kinda bullshit b'fore."

"What, consequences?" I asked. Cass shook her head.

"Relationships." She looked about ready to take a drink from the whiskey bottle, but paused; instead, she took out her flask and started refilling it. "Seriously, usually people understand th' difference t'ween bangin' cuz it's fun, an' sex that actually means somethin'."

"And how can you be so sure of that?" I asked, again unconvinced. Cass just shrugged.

"Cuz we ain't exactly livin' in a world've sunshine'n rainbows, here. I've found most people who're down t'fuck ain't lookin' fer anything... y'know, serious. Who knows if yer gonna get killed t'morrow... or even t'day, by something like raiders, or radscorpions, or deathclaws, or crazy robots. Y'just wanna... live in th' moment. Do somethin' that feels good, y'know? And nothin' feels better'n sex."

"You know, I used to know some junkies in New Reno who'd argue that point." I replied, only half joking. Cass just scoffed.

"Yeah? An' where are they now?" I thought about that for a minute.

"I don't know. Dead, probably."

"There y'go," Cass put the stopper back on the bottle of whiskey. "Can't expect junkies t'know what's good fer'm. Look, point is, I've never had t'deal with goofy bitches that can't separate dick'n emotion."

"I didn't think you had a dick," I said with a smirk. "Unless there's something you're not telling us?" Before I even finished, Cass socked me in the arm.

"Asshat. It's just a figure've speech."

"I still don't quite understand why you just haven't told her you're not looking for a relationship like she is." Cass slumped deeper into her seat. It was almost like she was trying to hide.

"S'not really my fault, y'know? I keep meanin' to tell her th' truth, an'... well... I jus' keep... gettin'... distracted."

"So, are you normally this horny, or is this just a new thing that's cropped up? Because I didn't notice this at the Mojave outpost."

"Well... it had been a while, so that might be part've it, I think..." She was quiet for a few minutes, and the only sound either of us heard was the low rumble of the engine.

"Do you want my advice? I mean, seriously, do you want my advice?" I asked her. She tipped her hat back, and opened her mouth, but no sound came out. She closed her mouth with a snap, and shrugged.

"Let's hear it."

"The way I see it, you got two options here. On the one hand, you could just swallow your pride, and tell her the truth right away. Let her know that you're not looking for anything more than sex right now."

"An' th' other option?"

"You can keep doing what you have been the last few days. I'm sure it'll probably be fun for a while. But the longer you put off telling her the truth, the deeper her feelings for you are going to get, and the worse it'll be when the truth finally does come to light. Which it will."

I glanced over at Cass; she looked deep in thought, with her hat pulled down over her eyes. I didn't look long. Just long enough.

"And those're my only two options, y'think?" She said quietly. It was almost a whisper, but still loud enough for me to hear.

"The only two I can see. And like I keep telling you, I think it's better to get it out in the open. I think she'll respect you more for being honest with her in the long run." I kept my eyes focused on the road.

"But it'll break her heart," was Cass' only reply. Slowly, I started nodding.

"Yeah... there is that."

The sound of the engine rumbled through the car as I drove along. The silence between us was deafening.

"There's no way out've this without hurtin' her, is there?" Cass asked. I just sort of shook my head. That's when she started shouting. "Fuck! Is there a way I could BE any more've a bad guy in this situation?!"

"I could always try and find a puppy for you to kick."

Cass socked me in the arm, yet again, with a resounding smack.

N36° 8.75', W115° 3.18'.

Those were the coordinates we'd found on the map the other day. Following the path laid out on my Pip Boy's map had led us through the remains of several old, worn down residential neighborhoods. Almost every house was a single-story, and I'm sure they might have been different colors at some point... but after 200 years of wear and tear, the ones that were still standing just looked brown.

We were following the remains of Sahara Avenue, when we came across a bridge over what looked like a wide, dry river bed. I couldn't go any further this way, because the bridge sort of buckled inward on itself... but that didn't matter too much, because the Pip Boy told me we were at our destination.

"So, this th' place then?" Cass asked, getting out of my car after I rolled it to a stop. I nodded and got out myself.

"I guess so," I started looking around. "At least that's what the Pip Boy's telling me."

"Hmm..." Cass was looking around as well, and pulled out her shotgun, checking to make sure it was loaded. "Let's look 'round. Somethin' stinks."

At first, I thought she was speaking metaphorically, but then I started sniffing the air... and there was a distinct odor hanging around. It wasn't too strong, but it was strong enough that I couldn't mistake it for anything else: the smell of death. And as I peered into the collapsed bridge, I could see a large brahmin corpse... and several piles of ash.

"Well, at least we know we're in the right place. Another caravan burned," I said, thinking Cass was right next to me, but she was instead off to the side of the road.

"Hang on, someone made camp here..." Cass said as she peered over the edge of the bridge, close to where a large chunk of the road had collapsed. I walked towards the edge, to see for myself what she was talking about. There was a pile of dirt leading up to the collapsed portion, and on top of it I could see the outline of what was probably a fire pit the other day. More importantly, however, there were a couple of corpses. Not piles of ash, but actual bodies.

I looked over at Cass, and she looked at me; I could tell from that look we were both thinking the same thing. The two of us rushed down the collapsed bridge to get a closer look. With any luck, the corpses might have something on them that would tell us who was responsible for burning the caravans.

Even from a distance, I could tell a few things: they certainly weren't Legion, and they didn't look like raiders, or gang members like Khans or Vipers or Jackals. I could see at least three corpses. Two of them were wearing old world combat armor; the same sort of armor the mercenaries who were harassing Jacobstown wore. The last one was facedown, and wearing some sort of leather armor. I walked towards the one wearing the leather, while Cass went towards one of the men in combat armor.

"Fuck!" Cass yelled out, almost immediately. "I should've fuckin' known!"

"What?" I asked, grabbing the man who was facedown, trying to turn him over. "What is it? Have you found something?"

"Fucking Van Graff's, is what! These fuckers'r wearin' Van Graff family combat armor. I should've known, they always use energy weapons!" She grabbed one of the corpses by the collar, and pointed at a golden lion head emblem painted in a corner of the chestplate. "See? That's their logo. They put it on everything, th' smug fuckers!"

I racked my brain, trying to remember anything I could about the Van Graff's. At first, the only thing I could remember was the billboard at the 2nd caravan site, advertising the Van Graff's Silver Rush in Freeside. And then the bottlecap dropped: The Van Graff's were one of the families running things in New Reno, always constantly fighting the Wright family, the Bishop family, and the Mordinos for control of that little scrap of nowhere... More than that, though, they sold energy weapons all throughout NCR territory, just like the Gun Runners sold normal guns. It used to be their main base of operations was somewhere in Redding, but now, nobody knew where their headquarters was.

As I was thinking about all of this, I was trying to turn the other corpse over to get a look at him. There was a massive gash on the left side of his neck, and that side of him was caked in dried blood; whoever had shot him must have hit his cartoid artery. Painful way to die... and slow. I was so absorbed in remembering anything I could about the Van Graff's and trying to figure out how the man in front of me died, I almost didn't recognize him.

"Thing is, this don't make sense..." Cass said, giving one of the corpses wearing combat armor a kick. "Van Graff's ain't in th' caravan business. Not unless th' caravan's carrying weapons, an' shit... Why would they be burnin' caravans?"

"I think I might know," I said, looking at the man in leather armor... a man who looked like he couldn't be more than twenty. "They're working with someone else who is in the caravan business."

"How c'n ya tell?" Cass asked, walking towards me. I pointed at the corpse at my feet.

"I know this man. I met him almost two weeks ago, when I woke up in Goodsprings. His name is Ringo... and he works for the Crimson Caravan." Cass' eyes widened when I said Crimson Caravan - and I could almost see the pieces fall into place in her head.

"Goddamn moth'rfuckin' sonuvabitch... That tears it! S'all I need t'know. Crimson Caravan an' th' Van Graff's... They were behind burnin' all these caravans - and they've gotta answer for 'em."

Cass clenched her fists as she stood over the corpses around us. The look on her face was... it was kind of scary, to be honest. There was a fire burning in her eyes that spoke volumes. I recognized that look... it was the same fire I'd seen in my own eyes every time I looked in the mirror while I was hunting for Benny. It was the look of someone willing to tear apart the world with their bare hands to get vengeance.

"I'm gonna get some extra ammo, a few bottles of whiskey, an' then I'm gonna show those fuckers how a Cassidy settles accounts," Cass spat at one of the Van Graff soldiers, and started to storm off back to my car... but something about this whole thing was tugging at the back of my mind.

"Hang on a sec. Cass, hold up," I called after her. She turned back to look at me, and I knelt down over one of the Van Graff troops. His chestplate was flecked with dried blood, and I could see a gaping bullet hole in his chest under his armpit; one of the unarmored parts of his body. "Something about this doesn't feel right."

"I'll tell ya what ain't right - I haven't stuck my boot up Alice McLafferty's ass yet! Fucking... I should've known something was up when she bought m'caravan... Why would she want to buy a burned caravan? Fuck! It all makes sense now, goddamn! Why didn't I fuckin' see this b'fore now!?"

"Seriously, listen for a second. Don't you think this is all a little... I dunno, convenient?"

"Th' fuck d'ya mean?" She asked, sounding impatient.

"Well, think about it. All the other caravans we saw never had any bodies anywhere. Only piles of ash. This is the first time we've seen any intact corpses, and... I dunno, it just seems a little fishy, is all. Like they were put here." Cass' expression hardened. She advanced on me, shotgun in hand and with murder in her eyes. I got up, and stood my ground.

"So, what? Y'want me t'sit on m'hands an' do nothin?" She was starting to shout in my face, but I didn't back down. "After everything you did t'kill Benny? Everything I did t'help you get yer revenge - now that it's ME wantin' revenge, y'want me t'cool m'heels an' NOT kill the people responsible fer butcherin' my caravan? My friends? My kin? FUCK THAT!"

"That's not what I'm saying at all!" I shouted back at her. "Besides, killing Benny was... different." That was the wrong thing to say, I admit in hindsight. Cass looked shocked and outraged all at once.

"Oh, what! Cuz it was you wantin' blood, then? Fuck you!" She grabbed me by the shirt and pulled me down towards her face, practically snarling at me. "You ain't gonna stop me! I'm gonna make these fuckers pay fer what they've done!" I grabbed her hand and pulled her off my shirt, pushing her away from me.

"Will you shut up and listen to me?" I held onto both her shoulders, keeping her at arms length. She looked supremely pissed and she struggled a bit, but she still kept her mouth shut. "It's different because I knew exactly who I was hunting. I remembered his face, his checkered jacket, his nickel plated pistol, and every single detail about him from when he shot me in the face." I loosened my grip, and she shrugged her shoulders violently, throwing off my hands. She was scowling... but still listening to me. "All we have here are a couple of bodies. It's entirely possible that the Crimson Caravan and the Van Graff's are behind this. I don't know - and that's the point. I'm all for getting revenge and killing the people responsible for killing your caravan - but I don't want to kill anyone on guesswork. Can't kill a man without knowing for sure you ought to. We just have to know for sure."

"Fine," Cass spat, shouldering her shotgun and making to walk back to my car. "Whatever. Fine. So. Have y'got a plan?" I followed her back up the broken bridge, falling in step just behind her.

"I'm gonna check out the only two leads," I said. "I'll sneak into the Crimson Caravan's camp and the Silver Rush tonight, and see if I can find any proof that they're the ones responsible. After that... I figure we can work out what to do from there."

"That's yer plan?" Cass sounded decidedly less pissed, but more annoyed. "Hate t'break this t'ya Shea, but yer track record with sneakin' ain't exactly stellar."

"Your confidence is overwhelming," I tried to deadpan as I opened the lock on my Corvega's trunk.

"I've got a point. Y'know that," Cass said, still scowling.

"Yes, you do. And I admit, trying to disguise myself doesn't really work because I'm not a master of disguise. I'm much better at sneaking..." I popped the trunk, and pulled out a large sack. "...when people can't see me."

"What th' fuck is that?" Cass pointed at the sack, sounding genuinely curious.

"This is a sack full of stealth boys," I said, opening up the pack so she could see inside. There were easily 20 or 30 stealth boys in the sack. Honestly, I hadn't bothered to count. "I got them from Doctor Henry just before we left Jacobstown yesterday. He had confiscated all the stealth boys from the Nightkin, and I offered to take some off his hands."

"Am I startin' t'rub off on ya?" Cass asked, taking out a stealth boy and turning it around in her hands.

"I didn't steal them," I said, rolling my eyes. "He gave them to me when I asked, because I helped him with his research. Besides, I've snuck into places before, so it's not like the stealth boys are the only card I'm playing here. So what do you say? Will you let me find some evidence before we both go off half-cocked?"

Cass breathed in sharply through her nose, and exhaled through her nose just as heavily.

"All right. You poke around th' Van Graff's and Alice. Fine. But I see either one go inta th' others camp? I'm gonna start shootin', no matter what y'find."

It was about a half an hour after noon when we got back to the 38. Cass didn't say anything to me on the ride back, or on the ride up the elevator up to the suite. She just looked... pissed off. The silence was excruciating, and the look of hatred in her eyes was all too familiar.

Of course, when the elevator pinged and the doors slid open, I almost wanted the uncomfortable silence back.

"That is a fucking lie, you stuck up, four-eyed, pompous son of a bitch!"

"So, you've resorted to name calling now? That's mature - though I suppose I should've expected as much from a mindless Brotherhood lapdog!"

It sounded like Arcade and Veronica, and they were both shouting at each other at the top of their lungs. I couldn't tell where they were in the suite exactly; the sounds echoed and bounced over every wall and just got louder. Leaning against the wall across from the elevator was Boone, with the same expression on his face as always and his arms folded across his chest. He looked up when the elevator doors opened.

"About time you guys showed up," he seemed to growl. "I was afraid those two were going to start tearing up the place."

"Boone, what the fuck is going on? Why are those two going at it?" I asked, right before I heard a thundering crash from the kitchen. Without thinking I drew Roscoe, pointing it at the entrance to the kitchen, and heard Cass ready her shotgun.

"Yeah... I might have let slip that Veronica's part of the Brotherhood of Steel, and..." Boone grimaced, and almost looked sheepish. Almost. "Arcade kind of went off after that."

I rushed into the kitchen - and was immediately met with chaos. The dining table was upended and pushed off to the side of the wall. The floor was lined with shards of broken glass bottles and cracked plates. Every chair was either on its side or in splinters. Veronica was standing at one end of the room in a combat ready stance, with her power fist exposed and venting gas. Arcade was standing at the other end, and the only thing that was immediately apparent was the thin trail of blood dripping down from his temple.

"What the FUCK is going on in here?!" I shouted. Both of them sort of stopped and stared at me.

"I'll tell you what's going on," Arcade said, wiping away the blood from his forehead. "You should've told me we were travelling with a lackey for a band of murderous thugs!"

"Oh, like the seditious anarchists in the Followers have any sort of moral high ground!"

"Higher ground than your pseudo-knightly nonsense and warmongering!" The two of them started advancing on each other. I needed to end this quickly. So I aimed Roscoe above me and fired off a round into the ceiling.

That shut the two of them up.

"Alright, both of you! Shut up and sit the fuck down!" I holstered Roscoe with a bit more force than needed, but I thought it provided decent punctuation. "You are going to stop this stupid fighting RIGHT NOW - and tell me what the fuck this is about!" I pointed at the two of them, emphasizing each word I shouted. They both backed up slightly, but only Veronica looked around to find a chair that wasn't broken.

"She started it..." Arcade wiped his forehead again. That tore it.

"IT DOESN'T MATTER WHO STARTED IT!" I yelled in Arcade's face. I hated that excuse, and it really got to me. He backed up all the way to the fridge, and genuinely looked scared. I sighed, backed off a bit, and rubbed my throbbing temple. "I'm ending it. Right here, right now. The both of you are going to sit down, and tell me - in a calm, civilized fashion - what the fuck is going on and why you two have made a mess of the kitchen. And if you don't, then I swear to FUCK that I'm going to beat the ever loving piss out of the both of you. Got it?"

Thankfully, the two of them nodded. Arcade reached down by his feet, and righted a chair. I reached behind me and pulled the edge of the table up to get it back on its feet; a few glasses shifted and cracked as it moved. When I finally got it back upright, I sat on the edge of the table, and crossed my arms over my chest, scowling at the two of them.

"Ok. Now. What's going on?" I asked. Arcade was the first to speak up - after he'd reached into the freezer to pull out a bag of ice to hold against his head.

"Did you know she was a member of the Brotherhood of Steel?" I nooded.

"Yeah. I've known almost since she started working with us."

"So why didn't you tell me we were working with a mass murderer?"

Fucking hell.

"I am not a mass murderer you-" Veronica started to yell at him again, but I did my best to cut her off.

"NO! Veronica - shut up! Arcade - no more insults, or I will beat you with the chair you're sitting on! You want me to be an umpire, I will be a fucking umpire, and I will not stand for this shit!" I rubbed my temple again. "I didn't tell you she was a member of the Brotherhood of Steel, because I was hoping Veronica would take some responsibility and tell you herself. But I take it Boone was the one who let it slip?"

Veronica nodded. "Yeah, he kind of... mentioned it. I guess he thought it was common knowledge or something."

"Ok. Arcade," I turned back to the blonde bespectacled scientist; he took the ice back off his head, and grimaced at what was, presumably, a large bloodstain. "What is your big problem with the Brotherhood? And keep in mind - you devolve into just insults, I will make good on that threat. Go."

"I don't know what you know about the Brotherhood of Steel," Arcade said, putting the ice pack back on his head. "But I've seen enough of what they do. They hoard technology, they murder people who use advanced tech and take it for themselves, and they fight anyone who tries to oppose them."

I turned to Veronica., and gestured for her to give a counter point. She just sat there for a few seconds, fuming.

"Yeah... all that is true," Veronica said finally. "But that's not the whole story. That's like judging all wastelanders by your experience with raiders. The Brotherhood protects people."

"No they don't!" Arcade sounded astonished. "The Followers help people."

"I didn't say help, I said protect. We keep dangerous knowledge out of the hands of people who'd abuse it. If the Followers had their way, they'd let anyone and everyone get their hands on plans to build a nuke!" Veronica wasn't yelling, but she was rather forceful.

"And if the Brotherhood had their way, they'd keep everyone who wasn't them in the stone age, while they hide underground on piles of stolen technology!"

"Look, even I will admit the Brotherhood has it's fair share of problems. But they're still my family. And I won't stand for you calling my family murderers!"

"Remind me again," Arcade narrowed his eyes. "How many people did the Brotherhood kill when they wiped out the NCR's gold supply?"

"Ok, you know what?" I finally said. "I think I know what the problem is. You're both being children."

"What?" the two of them said in unison.

"You heard me. Now, I want you two to listen to me, and listen good. You both have differences. You're both from organizations that have different views on how things should be in the wasteland. But if you guys want to work with me, then you'll have to learn to work with each other. Do you two understand that?"

The two of them nodded. I looked off to the side, and saw Cass and Boone standing close to the door. What I said next, I directed to Cass as much as I directed to Veronica and Arcade.

"This is why you don't keep secrets from the people you work with. Eventually, the secrets come out, and it'll just end up in a big fight, and a lot of people hurt. Do you all understand that? I don't want any more fighting out of either of you two. Think you can handle that?" Arcade and Veronica both nodded slowly, and I got up off the table.

"Good. Now, clean this mess up. We got work to do."