=Three Days Later=
It was a brand new day in Big Mountain, and the air itself felt different. Case let out a large breath as he looked over the Big Mountain from the Sink's balcony, getting a look at the place that was him, the rangers obeyed him, and Jacob stayed as their leader. Below him, the crater that had once been a death trap now hummed with the synchronized rhythm of a well-oiled machine.
So far, it was good.
The Rangers had successfully overseen the intricate reprogramming of the Think Tank. By patching their neural processors, they finally bridged the digital gaps that had caused centuries of cognitive decay, ending the "forgetting" loops that had turned geniuses into senile shadows.
However, the victory was bittersweet; even with the combined efforts of Mobius and Emily, the scientists' original personality databases had been lost to time. The men they once were—the humans with families and names—were gone. The names and the jars were all that remained.
With their original identities erased, Emily took definitive command of the crater's collective research. She transitioned into a managerial role, acting as the primary coordinator for the mountain's vast potential. Under her direction, the various facilities were given a clear, renewed focus, you could say, a restructuring.
X-8 turned into a medical and biological research center. X-13 was now pivoted into a dedicated tools and weapons manufacturing hub, mass-researching the gear the Rangers would need for the Mojave. X-42 remained the primary robotics with the add-on of vehicles department.
Looking over the horizon, every tower hummed gently, and the massive radar dishes slowly adjusted their arcs, transmitting long-range signals to every corner of the Mojave. The Big Empty was back in business. However, the botanical nightmare of X-22 remained on high-alert lockdown due to its extreme biohazardous nature.
Emily didn't take chances; she deployed a specialized Assaultron MK IIs to the site first. Their mission was clear: sterilize the greenery, incinerate any trace of the Spore Carriers, and salvage every scrap of experimental data and seed samples before the facility was completely purged of its fungal rot.
Case had plans, he had plans.
Heck, he had already written it all down on a scrap of paper, later backing it up into the facility's central database to ensure the mountain knew exactly what it was becoming. Higgs Village was designated to be overhauled into a functional barrack.
Little Yangtze was to be purged of its history and turned into a proper, secure prison. He ordered the magnetohydraulics drained so the rangers could use it further, and the rangers were also shifting the Saturnite alloy facility from a research lab into a streamlined factory.
The old Securitron deconstruction plant was slated to become a massive vehicle depot and maintenance hub, while the waste disintegration platform stayed in operation but transitioned into a high-capacity recycling center to feed the new industries.
To keep the lines of communication open, X-2 was marked for conversion into a proper telecommunication hub, and the sterile, cold halls of Y-17 were to be rebuilt into a state-of-the-art hospital. One by one, the "locations" on the map were becoming "departments" in a growing machine, and for the first time, there was a plan for every square inch of the crater.
There was only a bit of a problem, well, not little, but quite concerning in the grand scheme of things.
People.
They needed people to maintain the big mountain, and sure as hell, the rangers wouldn't become a robot nation just because he could. The good of the people of Mojave came first, that was his goal.
However, the foundation to this place should be strong first, and he needed people, not needed to be highly-educated from the followers, but people that can do people things. Settlers, or employees, didn't matter too much.
To achieve that, Case already told Emily to produce the transponder, give five to each squad, and attach a self-destruct chip on it. The goal was not only to recruit people from Mojave, but also do something else entirely.
He already grinned. The plan came together nicely.
Milla emerged from the Sink's door.
"Case, the others are waiting," Milla said.
Milla was already getting used to the stealth suit, wearing it like a second skin. She mentioned it was easily the most comfortable clothing she had ever worn, and honestly, no shit—with a built-in temperature regulator and internal cooling, anyone in the Mojave would kill for that kind of luxury. It turned the scorching desert heat into a non-issue.
"Sure thing. Jacob, Amelia, Corbin, and Jack?" Milla asked, confirming the roster.
Case gave a nod and stepped into the Sink. The Central Intelligence Unit had been completely overhauled, its once-cluttered consoles now forming a streamlined meeting table. A spread of fresh coffee, tea, and scones sat waiting—a small miracle of domesticity provided by Emily's secret research labs. Jacob was already there, leaning back and nursing a steaming cup of coffee, looking more relaxed than Case had seen him in weeks.
"So, Case, we've got the teleporter, the weapons, and the armor. Are we finally going to kick the Legion's ass?" Milla asked, her eyes bright with eagerness.
"Slow down, kid," Jacob countered, leaning over his coffee. "We've got bigger problems. Technically, we're exiles—marked as God-knows-what by the NCR or Centcom. The point is, we're short on personnel, and the people of the Mojave might not trust a bunch of guys coming out of a ghost story."
"That's right," Case agreed, tapping the map on the CIU table. "Anyway, Corbin, Jack—your mission is to scout the Dam and the rest of the Mojave. Take one or two vets with you, or a squad of bots. I need a full situation update. Can you handle that?"
"Will do, Case," Jack smiled, patting the Big MT transportalponder tucked into his holster. "We can blitz our way out and be back here with a simple click of this thing."
"Exactly. And regarding those personnel issues... if you find any unsuspecting slaves, bring them back here. But give them a thorough security sweep first. I'm not taking any chances with the Legion."
"So that's how you're solving the manpower shortage," Jack noted, nodding slowly. "Not bad, Case. Not bad at all."
"Women and children are our best bet for integration," Case explained, his voice turning serious. "Men are fine too, but if a man has already proven he can be a good Legionary, he might stay one. If you want to bring them home, face them with intense scrutiny and thorough checking first. I wouldn't put it past Caesar to plant a bomb inside someone's abdomen just to take out a facility like this."
"Huh? Is that even possible?" Amelia asked, her head snapping toward him, a look of genuine horror on her face.
"Anything is possible," Case shrugged.
"Alright, we'll be moving in an hour, anymore order, Case?" Corbin asked.
"That's is all. Jacob, anything that you want to add?" Case asked.
"That's it for me, come back alive, dismissed."
Jack and Corbin snapped a crisp salute, their combat dusters snapping like flags as they turned and headed downstairs. Once the heavy thud of their boots faded, a heavy silence settled over the Sink. Only the core circle remained: Case, Amelia, Jacob, and Milla. This next part was delicate; Case's knowledge of the future and the secret history of the Mojave had to stay strictly "need to know."
"Amelia, you, Milla, and I are going to retrieve… a vertibird," Case stated flatly.
Amelia's eyes went wide. She nearly choked on her tea, making a sputtering gesture as she tried to process the word. A Vertibird? In the Mojave, those were ghosts—mythical birds of prey that belonged to the legends of the NCR or the nightmares of the past, the Enclave. But this was Case, and Case hadn't steered them wrong yet.
"Who owned it, Case? Who the hell just leaves a Vertibird sitting around?" she asked, her voice hushed.
"Enclave remnants," Case explained, leaning over the table. "There's a bunker. It's got a functional bird, a stockpile of high-grade weapons, and five suits of Advanced Power Armor Mark II. Yeah, you heard me right—the Enclave gear."
"Shit, Case," Jacob muttered, rubbing his jaw as he looked at the map. "I've got no comment on how you know that, but if you say it's there, it's there. So far, your intel has been solid as a rock. If we get our hands on Enclave tech, we aren't just a militia anymore."
"Advanced Power Armor…" Amelia whispered, the tactical implications finally sinking in. "With those suits and the gear we're pulling out of X-13, we could walk right through a Legion camp and they wouldn't be able to do a damn thing but pray. Where is this bunker located?"
"Charleston Mountain," Case said.
"Shit… alright. So, where exactly is this Big MT?" Milla asked, shifting her weight. "Sure as hell I'll need to fly the Vertibird back here; no way we're teleporting that darn thing. I mean, this crater is large, no denying that, but searching for a hole in the ground from the sky is harder than it looks."
"Oh, I know exactly where we are," Emily intervened, her voice radiating through the CIU's internal speakers with a hint of pride. "Kingston Peak, Nevada. You really can't miss it once you're in the neighborhood. I can upload a landing beacon directly to Case's Pip-Boy—what do you say?"
"Alright, that's one problem dealt with," Milla added, already mentally checking her flight pre-checks. "But I need a co-pilot. Only Markus has enough hours behind a yoke to pull this off."
"Done and done," Case replied. He knew Markus; the man was a man of few words, but he'd likely just give a silent nod of approval once he laid eyes on a hanger full of Advanced Power Armor and a bird ready for flight. "Anything else?"
Jacob leaned back, crossing his massive arms over his chest. "Have fun, kids. I'm going to stay here and have a long discussion with Professor Emily. Be safe, and make sure you come back in one piece, alright? And listen—no Ranger equipment for this run. Leave the standard-issue gear here. Use the Advanced Combat Armor, the reinforced Mark II stuff. We need to look like high-end mercenaries, not a known militia."
"Will do, Jacob," Case nodded. It made sense; showing up in recognizable Ranger gear would raise too many questions with the locals.
"Ahhh, but I really like this suit," Milla commented, smoothing a hand over the matte plating of her Stealth Suit Mk II.
"That suit stands out like a sore thumb, Milla," Jacob pointed out. "You look like a pre-war black ops shadow. People see that, they start shooting out of curiosity alone."
"Can you wear it under something?" Case suggested, looking her over. "A duster or a heavy traveler's coat? Something to break up the silhouette?"
Milla did a quick flexibility check, stretching her arms. "Yeah, I can do that. It's low-profile enough that a bulky coat will hide the tech without jamming the sensors."
"Alright then," Case said, checking his pip-boy. "Rangers, we move in three hours. Get your kits prepped and we'll teleport out of here."