New Vegas: Sheason's Story

Chapter 114: Watch Your Six

By the time we got back to the 38, it was just after noon.

While everyone else was busy getting cleaned up after the fight, I was sitting in the kitchen. The smashed up remains of the three-eyed goggles were sitting in a tiny heap on the table in front of me. I wasn't entirely certain what I hoped to accomplish. I downed a swig of the beer in my hand, and went straight back to staring at the pile of scrap.

I was fairly certain that I didn't have the tools in the Lucky 38 to try and repair and/or reverse engineer it, and based on how advanced it was, it was entirely possible that I wouldn't be able to find the proper tools anywhere in the Mojave. I pulled the Big Mountain Transportalponder! out of my duster, and set it on the table. I could always take it to The Sink, see what Jeeves and The Think Tank made of it. I mean, that would certainly fulfill the promise I'd made to them to bring pieces of the outside world to them...

I took another swig of beer, and suddenly I heard a knock on the kitchen door.

"Hey," Cass said, leaning against the doorframe. "Busy in here?"

"Not really," I leaned back in my chair. "What's up?" Cass sauntered into the room with a shrug, and kicked a chair out from under the table; she sat down with her arms folded on top of the chair's back.

"Just thinkin' about stuff. Y'know." I nodded. Before she got a chance to explain exactly what 'stuff' she was thinking about, I heard a buzzing from the open window. Seconds later, ED-E flew into the room, and hovered over the table.

"Greetings, Friend_Courier," ED-E turned to look at Cass. "Oh! And hello to you, too, Cassidy_Rose." ED-E turned back to me. "You will be pleased to know that the data transfer was a success."

"Excellent. Yes Man has everything you recorded from Red Rock Canyon?" ED-E bobbed in midair, nodding at me.

"That is correct, Friend_Courier. PDQ-88b_YesMan now has access to all logged sensor data concerning query: Enclave_Shadow. It is not much, but I certainly hope that whatever data collected can be of assistance."

"It's gonna be a big help, ED-E, I'm sure of it," I patted the side of ED-E's chassis, and he let out an atonal hum. "Thanks, bud."

"Wait, what's this 'bout Yes Man?" Cass asked. "I only caught, like, half of that."

"It's pretty simple, really. I'm gonna see if I can get Yes Man to help me find that Enclave assassin." Cass narrowed her eyes, looking incredibly skeptical.

"How?"

"You know how I told you about the lasers mounted on top of the Lucky 38 that House used to shoot down some of the incoming nukes when the world ended?" Cass nodded. "Well, I took a look at them earlier. Seems that the simple passage of time, and lack of proper maintenance means that I won't be able to get the lasers working again anytime soon. However, the sensor array up there seems to still be in pretty decent shape."

"Sensor array?" Cass asked with a raised eyebrow.

"Mmhmm. I figure, if the sensors could track those incoming nukes, then we might be able to use them to track this Enclave assassin. With a bit of tweaking and fine tuning, at least." I patted the eyebot once again. "ED-E here, the resourceful little rascal that he is, managed to record the fight, and took some sensor data."

"Even so, I do not believe that we will be able to track Enclave_Shadow while she is behind a stealth field," ED-E said, hovering over the table. "Addendum: according to PDQ-88b_YesMan, the sensor cluster lacks sufficient power to operate at peak efficiency."

"Wait, it's not getting enough juice? That could be a serious problem..." I muttered. "How much power does it need?"

"The sensor cluster is currently receiving, with a +/- 2% margin for error, only 26.289% of the necessary power to operate at peak efficiency. Diminishing returns is present. Exact readings will be limited to within a 10.4607 km radius, with increasingly inexact data gathered at greater distances."

"Damn," I sighed. And it seemed like such a good plan, too. "Ah well. Better than nothing, right?"

"Y'know, there's probably an easier way to find out Enclave stuff," Cass said.

"Believe me, I already tried that," I said, glancing over at ED-E and pointing a thumb at him. "He's a piece of Enclave tech, and I asked if he might know anything earlier."

"Several sections of my databanks have been locked off behind partitions, Cassidy_Rose," ED-E said, hovering in midair and beeping at Cass. "The partitions are known elements within data blocks, but I am currently unable to access the files within. Unrestricted access will only be granted if certain key words and/or phrases are uttered." Cass stared at the eyebot blankly, so I stepped in to try and translate.

"Remember how ED-E spouted off a few recordings of his creator, Whitley, a while back? Turns out when that happened, somebody said some kind of keyword to unlock it. So, he can't access anything about the Enclave unless we say some magic mystery words."

'That actually wasn't what I was talking about," Cass said. "I meant Arcade."

"Oh, don't worry," I said with a slight nod. "I'm definitely gonna talk to him. There's quite a lot that he and I need to sort out." Cass nodded.

"Good." Cass gripped the edge of the chair, and stayed quiet for a while, staring at the goggles on the table, just like I had. I nodded, reaching for my beer to take one last drink. She looked pensive, and I thought I knew what she was thinking about. I mean, I was doing quite a lot of thinking myself, all of it centered on who that Enclave assassin is, and what she's doing here in the Mojave. What is her game? What is she after? And most worryingly of all... was she actually going to come after me, now that she'd said 'no more warnings?' How safe was the Lucky 38, really? All of these things were weighing down on my mind like a twenty-ton weight sitting on my face.

Of course, as I was at the very apex of trying to pour the amber liquid down my gullet, that's when Cass made her move.

"So... sex with a hologram, huh?"

I choked. I did my best to keep the beer from spraying everywhere, but all it ended up doing was splashing against my face and dribbling down over my front. Meanwhile, Cass just leaned back, rocking her chair and laughing like a little kid.

"Aw, fer fuck sake, Cass!" I managed to finally get out between splutters and bouts of laughter. Annoying and inconvenient as it was, the timing was perfect. "Man, warn me when you're gonna do that!"

"What, and ruin all my fun?" Cass grinned broadly, poking me in the arm. "You've got the best expressions when y'get flummoxed." I shook my head and laughed. Cass leaned forward again, and tipped her hat back to get a better look at me. "Seriously, though... is it true? Or were you just tryin' to break the tension? Cuz if that was the case, mission fuckin' accomplished. I think V's still sportin' a thousand yard stare."

"No, no... I was tellin' the truth," I wiped away the last of the beer from my face, and tossed the empty bottle over my shoulder into the sink. "...well, and I was trying to break the tension, too. Sometimes the truth is stranger than fiction." Cass was smiling at me and shaking her head, making it a bit difficult to get a read on what she was thinking.

"You are a fuckin' piece of work, y'know that Shea?" Cass laughed again. "Screwin' a hologram..."

"What, you jealous?" I asked. Cass nodded.

"Little bit, yeah," she said, resting her chin on her hands, and looking up at the ceiling. "I mean... I've never really thought 'bout it before. Didn't think it was really possible. But now I know it is, I'm havin' a hard time not thinkin' about it..."

I felt a slight pang of disappointment, and I wasn't entirely certain why.

"Well, I'd offer to introduce you," I leaned back in my chair, and laced my fingers behind my head. "But I think one of the prerequisites is being lobotomized." Cass shook her head and chuckled again.

"I think I'll pass."

A burst of steam hit my face when the bathroom door opened. That must have been one hell of a hot shower. Nevertheless, I stood my ground as the door opened and a very damp, towel-clad Arcade stepped out. For a moment, he stood there confused - and then, when he put his glasses on... he still looked confused.

"You're gonna drain Lake Mead if you're not careful," I said as he clearly tried to process what was happening. "I mean, I know steam is supposed to be good for your skin, but that's just ridiculous."

"Sheason! Uh... hi?" He stammered, trying (and failing) to regain composure. "What can... uh... what can I do for you?"

"I had an idea," I said, folding my arms across my chest. "That Enclave holdout that brought you up. Do you know where they are?" Arcade blinked several times, as if he didn't understand the question. Slowly, however, he nodded.

"Uh... yes? I mean... I was going to... why do you want to know?"

"Because we know less than nothing about this Enclave assassin. We don't even know if she's actually Enclave or not. I don't want to be caught with my pants down, next time we run into her."

"The only person here caught with his pants down is me," Arcade said, finally able to launch a bit of snark my way.

"I would've told you earlier, but you jumped in the shower before I had a chance to come up with this scheme. Point is, we need some answers, and we need them fast. The best place to start, I think, is with people who used to be Enclave. Wouldn't you agree?"

"Well, you've already met one," Arcade said, adjusting the towel around his waist. "Doc Henry up in Jacobstown." I thought back to when we'd visited the Super Mutant lodge up in the mountains, and several things about our visits with the good doctor suddenly made a great deal more sense. "I can take you to them, if all you want to do is talk. And, admittedly, I was going to introduce you to them, anyway. But..." he cleared his throat, looked down, and then looked back up at me. "If you don't mind, do you think I could put some pants on first?"

Fifteen minutes later, my Corvega was driving down Vegas Boulevard, past The Strip's front gate and into Freeside. ED-E was flying along in the air above my car, keeping watch.

"So," I said finally, turning to Arcade sitting next to me in the passenger seat. "You wanted to introduce me to the Enclave squad anyway?" Arcade nodded. "Why? What for?"

"Been doing a lot of thinking lately." Arcade began. That seems to be going around, I muttered under my breath. "About Hoover Dam. About the future of Vegas... and I think we're going to need as much help as we can get if we're to have any hope of pushing back both Caesar and the NCR, and keep Vegas independent. The Remnants could be just the ace in the hole that we need to turn the tide when it matters."

"The Remnants?" I asked.

"It's just something Captain Kreger kept saying when he finally realized the Enclave wasn't coming back. 'Nobody left except us Remnants.' After a while, it just sort of stuck. Plus, he thought it might sound less contentious than the original name for the unit: the Devil's Brigade." I snorted out a laugh.

"Yeah, probably a good idea," I said. "Are they that good?" Arcade nodded.

"Yes. They're an exceptionally skilled combat unit, with access to highly advanced technology. And they're survivors. They just... they don't have a cause anymore. Most of them are patriots, through and through - especially Orion. When the Enclave fell, they lost their flag. They lost their way. The five of them have spent the last few decades coping with that loss with varying degrees of success... but I think that if we can give them all a flag they can rally behind with Vegas, we might be able to get them on our side."

"Hmm..." I mulled over what Arcade just said, as I pulled us into a side street, just off Freemont. "Well, if that's true, how do you think they'll react to the news that there's an assassin running around who may-or-may-not be working for the Enclave's cause?"

"Honestly?" Arcade sighed. "I don't think you should tell them. Not all of them, anyway. You definitely should not say anything about the assassin to Orion. If this person is really another Enclave holdout, and hasn't just found a stealth suit and some weapons... then it screams 'Black Ops.' The only person in the squad who might have even had the clearance to know about it is Captain Kreger. Well... aside from my father, at least. But he's been dead for years, so we definitely can't ask him."

"Great..." I muttered, pulling the car to a stop and getting out. Arcade followed with a rather concerned expression on his face. "At this rate, we'll never find out anything about little miss invisible."

"More important, what are we doing here?" Arcade followed me out of the alley I'd parked in, and we emerged out onto the street, right in front of a very familiar store. "I thought we were going to get straight to business."

"What, didn't I tell you?" I asked. "I thought we'd stop by Mick & Ralph's first. I don't know how long finding, and subsequently meeting, all these old warhorses is going to take, so I wanted to pick up some supplies first for a little... project I wanted to work on." Since we were now (technically) in public, I decided to pick my words very carefully, avoiding things like 'Enclave,' 'Assassin,' 'Remnants,' or 'Teleporter.'

"Does this have something to do with the hardware overhauls you mentioned the other day?" Arcade asked. I smiled broadly at him, and didn't say a word. Arcade shook his head. "I'm not sure whether I should be intrigued or terrified."

"Both would be an acceptable answer."

"I did not think I was going to come back here again anytime soon," I said as I scanned the view beyond the windshield. Arcade shrugged.

"Sometimes, the truth is stranger than fiction." I couldn't help but chuckle at Arcade unintentionally mimicking me from earlier.

Novac looked almost exactly how I remembered it from when I came this way last time... whenever it was. It couldn't have been more than a month and a half ago, but so much had gone on in such a short time, that it felt like it had been six years.

And yet, despite my confusion about when I last set foot in this old motel-turned-frontier town, when I saw that giant dinosaur, holding a giant broken thermometer, and looming over everything, looking out across the desert to the east... it was somehow comforting. In an odd sort of way.

"So, who are we looking for here?" I asked, parking the car near the motel sign. Arcade followed suit, and I waited for him to lead the way. He actually knew where we were going, after all.

"Daisy Whitman," Arcade said, leading us away from the motel, and over to the abandoned gas station near the south end of town.

"Alright. So, what does she do?" I asked.

"Lately, she makes a living by helping the people in town strip old rocket parts and engines, to sell them for scrap. Last time I checked in with her, she joked that the bits and pieces she'd take out were worth more on their own than the whole thing put together."

"Actually, I meant what she did for the Enclave."

"Oh!" Arcade let out a surprised laugh. "Sorry, I thought you meant... right. Yes, she's a pilot. But I suppose you can ask her all the details yourself. We're here."

The gas station we'd been heading toward reminded me a bit of Gibson's Garage, about half a mile up the road. It was full of scrap metal, spare parts, and a myriad of tools in varying states of care and repair. Unlike Gibson's Garage, however, there weren't any rusted cars, and there definitely weren't any dogs. Metal shelves crammed full of junk took up the spots where the gas pumps used to be. It was clear they'd been ripped out years ago, but it was unclear when or exactly why. Piles of tires dotted various places outside the building, and littered all around were piles of tiny toy rockets - they looked almost identical to the rockets that Jason Bright and his ghouls used to go into space.

"Knock knock," Arcade said, rapping on a metal sheet leaning against one of the garage walls. At the back of the gas station garage, I could see a female figure wearing filthy overalls, heavy work gloves, and a tattered rattan cowboy hat. She was hunched over and working on a motorcycle. An open toolbox was next to her, and she was so engrossed in the work that she didn't even look up when she responded.

"Howdy! Be with you in a minute, I'm almost done here..."

"Aw, c'mon Daisy. I'm sure you can take some time away from your tinkering. After all... it's fine weather for flying." At that, she immediately looked up from the bike, and tipped her hat back. Her face was very tan and covered in age lines, with strands of white hair poking out from under her hat. She looked at us with wide eyes, and when her gaze settled on Arcade, she broke into a broad smile.

"Well, I'll be!" She walked over to us, pulling her gloves off as she approached. In a flash, she was gripping Arcade tightly in a very motherly sort of hug, and started ruffling his hair. "Arcade! I haven't seen you around in ages! How've you been, my little spark?"

"I'm fine," Arcade said with a smile, pulling himself away slightly. "You're looking well." Daisy screwed up her face, and let out a "Hmmm..."

"I've seen that look before. You've got that serious look on your face again, and that always means trouble. What's up?"

"We're getting the squad back together." Arcade said flatly. Daisy took a step back and her mouth dropped open slightly - and then she looked over at me. Before she got a chance to say anything, Arcade continued. "It's okay. He knows. He's cool."

"Hi," I said with a smile, extending my hand, trying my best to be amicable. "I'm Sheason. Arcade and I have been working together for a while." Daisy rallied rather quickly. Surprisingly so, in fact. She smiled at me, and shook my hand.

"I see. Well, hello there. Former Warrant Officer Whitman, at your service. You can call me Daisy." She paused, suddenly narrowing her eyes at me. "Hang on, you look familiar. Have I seen you around here before?" I thought back to when I'd visited Novac last. I don't remember running into her... And then she snapped her fingers. "Wait a minute, you're that guy that helped Manny with the ghoul problem 'bout a month back, right?"

"Guilty as charged," I said. "Has that rocket of theirs come down yet, or are they still up in space?" Daisy blinked a couple of times, looking at me oddly. Thankfully, Arcade changed the subject.

"I'm sure you've heard some rumors about him, even if you haven't realized." Arcade planted a finger square in the middle of my chest. "He's the one people have been calling The Courier. We've been working on this plan to kick the NCR and Legion out of Vegas, and both he and I think The Remnants can help tip things in our favor." Daisy let out a single laugh that echoed all around us.

"Aw, sweetie," Daisy set a hand on Arcade's shoulder and smiled at him, shaking her head. "Sometimes, I think you give us old-timer's too much credit." She shook her head one last time and looked back at me. "So, Arcade told you everything about us, did he?"

"Well, no," I admitted. "Not everything. But he did say you're a pilot?" Daisy nodded with another broad smile, increasing the amount of lines on her face.

"Vertibird pilot. Seventy-one missions, and only lost one chopper."

"What happened?" I asked. Daisy shrugged.

"Rotor malfunction over Klamath. Hard landing, but I walked away. Like all us pilots are fond of saying, if you can walk away, it's a good landing. And if you can use the kite the next day, it's an outstanding landing."

"Sounds like a fun day all around," I said. Daisy laughed softly. "So, what was it like flying for the Enclave?"

"I was never happier than when I was in the box office," she said with a subtle wag of her eyebrows. I was a bit confused.

"Box office?" I asked. Daisy snorted out a laugh.

"Well, it sure as hell ain't gonna be a cockpit if I'm the one in the hot seat."

"Fair enough." I like this dirty old woman! She's got some serious moxie.

"I was able to go just about anywhere and everywhere, limited only by the fuel I could carry," Daisy started to sound just slightly whimsical, as she waxed poetic about the Glory Days. "There were more than a few missions where I took the scenic route home, just so I could stay in the air. Caught hell for it every time, but totally worth it!" Daisy started to smile, but then it faded away, as if she'd just remembered something unpleasant. Turns out: she had. "I know that some of the things the Enclave did were questionable... Believe me, I know. I make no excuses, but really... that's just the way things were back then." She shrugged. "Figure I've done enough good to make up for any past sins, anyhow."

"Well," I said. "This is a chance to put those piloting skills of yours to use for a very good cause indeed. Interested?"

"To be honest, it's been a good long while since I've got my hands on the controls of a vertibird, anyway. Likely crash and kill us all," Daisy laughed again, still smiling. "Either that, or I'll sink the copter in the middle of Lake Mead. That place seems to attract aircraft for some reason..."

"Does that mean you're going to help us get the team back together?" Arcade asked.

"If I get one more chance to fly, sure. If nothing else, I'll head to the bunker. Be nice to see the team again. It's been... what, a few years?"

"About four and a half years, at least," Arcade nodded. Daisy adjusted her hat, and started walking away.

"Give me a few minutes. I gotta grab some things." And with that, she walked away from the garage, and off toward the motel. As soon as she was out of earshot, Arcade sighed.

"You alright?" I asked. Arcade nodded.

"Yeah. It's just... For as long as I can remember - since my mother died, at least - Daisy's been the only woman in my life. And she was the only other woman close to my father, too." Arcade folded his arms across his chest, and leaned against the back wall. "She flew him out on a dozen missions, including his last. I've always been close to Daisy, but it's still strange thinking that I'm recruiting her for this harebrained idea of ours."

"You two seem pretty close, I can tell," I said. Arcade nodded with a slight smile.

"There have been a few good men along the way, but lovers make for poor confidants. Daisy... she never had any kids of her own. And then, when my mother died, she took me under her wing. So to speak. She always sort of..." Arcade breathed in through his nose heavily. "She was always there to just listen."

"Hm... In all seriousness, do you think this is going to work?" Arcade looked up at me, and raised an eyebrow. "You know... bringing them together for one last mission."

"We won't have any issues with Daisy, I don't think. Being in the Enclave never really meant much to her. She just... she loved to fly, and it broke her heart to be grounded."

"Of course it would, that makes sense." I said. "Flying seems like it was an important part of her life. Why wouldn't she enjoy it?"

"As screwed up as it sounds, at least she was a part of something." Arcade paused, and suddenly looked very uncomfortable. "Granted, it was something... admittedly pretty terrible, but it was something. If you spend the first half of your life flying Enclave troopers around in a vertibird, I suppose picking over scraps and pre-war rocket parts just doesn't quite compare."

"No," I said with a smile. "No, I suppose it doesn't." The two of us stood at the entrance to the gas station garage in silence for a while. The only sound either of us could hear was the soft hum of ED-E buzzing around over our heads.

"Alright, boys," Daisy said. Even without looking at her, I could practically hear the smile in her voice. "I think I'm ready to go."

She was still wearing her cowboy hat, but aside from that, all was different. She wasn't wearing overalls anymore - jeans and a t-shirt, now. The big thing though, was that she was wearing a bomber jacket in surprisingly good condition. It was leather, and had several patches sewn into it - the only one I could readily identify was the US flag on the left arm. One of them was a cartoonish devil head over crossed pitchforks inside an upside-down triangle, another was a vertibird inside a circle, and there were a pair of wings over her left pocket. There were a few more patches on her right arm, but I couldn't make out any details about them. She had a green duffel bag slung over her shoulder, and there was a pair of mirrored aviators sitting on her nose.

"That was quick," I said, honestly impressed. I checked the clock on my Pip Boy - she couldn't have been gone for more than a minute or two, could she? She shook the duffel bag several times, walking past us and over to the motorcycle.

"That's what the bug-out bag is for. You don't get to live as long as I have without bein' able to get out of any situation in under fifteen minutes. Back in my twenties, I had to take the full fifteen." As she talked, she strapped the duffel bag to a small flat platform above the back wheel. She also reconnected something in the engine just underneath the seat.

"So, where are you heading?" I asked. Daisy straddled the motorcycle and it started up with an angry rumble.

"What, Arcade didn't tell you?" She revved the engine a few times. "There's a bunker up in the mountains to the northwest. That's the rally point for us Remnants. When d'you think you're gonna head up?" I looked over to Arcade, and motioned for him to answer. Not the least of which because he was the one in charge of this afternoon's itinerary.

"Well, you're the first one we've visited. We're probably going to go find Orion Moreno next." Daisy's smile wavered slightly, and she let out a worried laugh.

"Well, good luck with that, boys." She revved the engine once more, and gave us a salute. "Watch your six out there!"

Without another word, the motorcycle sped off, leaving a faint trail of dust in her wake as she zoomed down the broken highway.

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