New Vegas: Sheason's Story

Hey kiddies! It's Three Dog, with an important public service announcement! Remember children, if someone comes knocking on your door, claiming to be from the government? DON'T BELIEVE IT! Just run as fast as you can in the other direction, because those power armored bastards will shoot first, and ask questions never! Stay safe. Stay alert. Stay alive. You can do that for me, can't you children? I know you can. You're listening to Galaxy News Radio, bringing you the truth – no matter how bad it hurts.

Most of us were in the security station's antechamber, staring at the wall of monitors. Yes Man was transmitting the video feed from the last cell, where Tuera was still chained up. Chris was sitting opposite her in a metal folding chair, having volunteered to interrogate her; he was, after all, the only one here with any recent experience with the Enclave. He certainly had the most experience fighting them, and he'd know what questions to ask.

In theory, anyway. No matter what questions he asked, Tuera just kept responding with the same phrase, over and over again:

"Colonel Smith. Serial Number: six-zero-two-dash-eight-niner-four-two-tango-alpha."

I was trying to focus, but it was damn difficult. My mind was screaming at me. A gaping, gnawing pain was tearing at the inside of my chest. Every emotion that I had been bottling up inside me and ignoring for thirteen fuckingyears was washing over me like a bucket of ice water. And, if I'm being brutally honest, this tumultuous deluge of emotions paralyzing my ability to think and reason properly was the real motive for letting Chris talk to her first.

Damnit, I'm thirty nine years old, and seeing her again is making me feel like the dumb fuck I was in my twenties. Of course, when I was with her, she made me feel like a teenager, so I guess this is... sort of an improvement? Kind of. All of this, it was... it was just too much for me to handle. I couldn't compartmentalize like I usually did. I couldn't... I just...

"How long?"

"Huh?" The voice snapped me out of myself. Cass was staring at me with her arms folded across her chest. Her expression was... it wasn't anger or disappointment or anything like that. It was... was that concern? Sadness? Anxiety? I couldn't tell what it was.

I just couldn't focus.

"How long did y'know it was her?" Cass asked again.

"The fight on the rooftops." I rasped out. My throat was so dry, talking felt like I was trying to eat sandpaper. "At least... that's when I started to suspect. I didn't know until the helmet came off. Not for sure." I looked back at the screen; Chris was still trying to talk to her, calmly asking questions, like he was talking to someone over lunch. "I... hoped I was wrong." No I didn't. "I thought it was just my mind playing tricks on me, but..."

"So, who is she, this... Two-era?" Arcade asked, putting emphasis on the syllables of her name – almost like he was afraid he was going to mispronounce it. "It's clear you've got a history with this girl, and it's just as obvious your history has nothing to do with the Enclave. Otherwise, it would've come up sooner. What's the story?" For several seconds, nobody said anything. I can't speak for anyone else's reasons for staying quiet, but I was busy trying to form a coherent thought through all the hysterical shouting in my head.

"A... long time ago, I met a girl in Shady Sands. We dated. I fell in love. And I mean, seriously, legitimately, properly In Love. I thought she loved me back. And then..." I gulped hard, trying to remove the harshness in the back of my throat. "One day, she was gone. She just vanished out of the blue. Poof."

"Wait a minute..." Veronica tapped her chin. "You've told me this story before, haven't you? When I –" V paused, pointing at the screen. "You mean she's the..."

"Yeah," I grunted out. "There were other... and she was... but she..." I trailed off, unable to think clearly. It felt like a jackhammer inside my skull, hammering away in an effort to escape. Cass reached out and rested a hand on my shoulder. The touch was a welcome comfort

"She's th' one that got away..." Cass said softly. I looked over my shoulder... and Cass gave me a knowing nod. I nodded back in kind.

If Cass was anyone else, I probably would've expected her to get pissed off or jealous that one of my exes – THE ex – was back, and causing me to be such a mess. But Cass wasn't like that, because our relationship wasn't like that. Before everything and anything else between us, she was my friend, and I was hers. Not tactical support, not a lover, not the sarcastic voice of reason... but a friend. And maybe that makes our dynamic strange, who knows? But right now... I was extremely grateful for it.

"So, what are we going to do with her?" Boone spoke up, to the surprise of everyone. "Assuming she doesn't crack from interrogation, which..." Boone stared at the monitors, and shook his head. "She won't. What then?" Everyone around was looking to me, as if I had the answers. Even Fawkes – who was standing in the back with cigar smoke curling around his head – was staring directly at me, expecting me to know what to do.

"I don't know..." I said finally, shaking my head. "I was so focused on... just, you know, catching her that I hadn't really thought that far ahead." I looked back at the monitor, and the scene still hadn't changed. "To be honest, I'm just making this shit up as I go."

Fuck me, I need a smoke.

"Well, I can't get anything out of her," Chris said, walking into the antechamber after about a half an hour. "She just keeps doing that name-rank-serial number thing, like a robot. She's more of a robot than a lot of the robots I've known!" Chris paused, and looked to his right; Yes Man was standing next to him, still as a statue. Chris chuckled nervously. "Er, no offense!"

"None taken!" Yes Man replied, happily. I honestly couldn't tell if he was being politely passive aggressive or not.

"Well, that just proves she's definitely Enclave Special Forces," Arcade began... and then he cleared his throat. I guess he didn't want to give anything away to our new arrival if he didn't have to, because he immediately started backtracking. "I mean... if they're anything like US Special Forces from before the war, then they have to go through mock prisoner-of-war interrogations during their training. They'd be subjected to torture and psychological warfare for five days, and if they said anything other than their name, rank, and serial number at any point, they'd be washed out of the program."

"Told you," Boone grunted out. "She's not going to crack."

"Well, damn," Chris sounded disappointed. "That at least explains why I failed the Speech check. That hasn't happened in years!" He shook his head, ignoring all the strange looks he was getting from everyone except Fawkes (who just rolled his eyes), and pointed up. "Either way, we don't have five days to try and get the location of the Enclave HQ out of her. That cloud cover isn't going to last forever, so we definitely need to get a move on."

"Do you really think she knows where it is, though?" Arcade asked.

"Maybe!" Chris exclaimed, briefly glancing over in my direction before continuing. "All I know is that you guys are the first new pieces on the board I've come across in ages! Whenever new pieces come into play, the nature of the game changes significantly. The Enclave and I have been in 'check' for ages, with neither side able to push it into 'mate,' so this might be just what I need to break the stalemate!"

"Did... did you just equate us to chess pieces?" Arcade asked.

While I was busy watching this back-and-forth, a hand reached out to grab me by the crook of my arm. The next thing I knew, Cass was pulling me aside, trying her best to get us out of earshot so the rest of them could continue arguing.

"Look like yer gonna get t'ask those questions after all," Cass said. I nodded with a grunt... but didn't move. Cass furrowed her brow at me. "Oh, don't tell me after all th' trouble we've gone through, yer gettin' cold feet now?"

"No..." I offered up weakly. "I'm going, I just... I... fuck. I haven't seen her in thirteen years. What the fuck am I gonna say?" Cass snorted, holding back a laugh.

"I'm sure you'll figure somethin' out. Now, g'wan!" She swatted my ass to try and get me moving. "Go git'r, tiger."

"Heh... yes'm," I said with a half-salute, half-wave. As I started to leave, Veronica made her way over to Cass. I pulled out my pack of smokes – half to stall for time, and half because I wanted something to do, so it didn't look like I wasn't listening to them.

"Are you sure you're alright with this?" Veronica asked.

"Well, sure," Cass replied. "Why wouldn't I be?" There was a very long pause.

"... seriously? All the bullshit between the three of us and you're just going to let him go like that? You are some piece of work."

"Alright, first off," Cass patted Veronica on the shoulder. "I ain't lettin' him go, cuz he ain't mine t'let go. And second: this is yer problem, V. You've always gotta take things so serious like, all th' goddamn time. I learned long ago that shit's only ever gotta be as complicated as you want it to be."

"What? That doesn't –" Veronica was cut off by Cass' chuckling.

"I was never lookin' fer anythin' more'n fun, V. Not with you, and not with Fisher over there. An' that's cuz I had my fill've serious relationships years ago. Didn't much care fer it."

"Really?" Veronica asked, and Cass nodded.

"Really. Thing is, I was in his shoes, 'bout six years ago. I had a second chance t'reconnect with..." Cass paused for several seconds, her jaw working soundlessly for a while. She cleared her throat. "Look, I just know where he's comin' from here, alright? We all have th' one who got away."

"... yeah." Veronica agreed, hanging her head. Part of me wondered how much Cass knew about Christine, but even so... you didn't need all the specific details to know what that expression meant.

"I may've fucked up my second chance," Cass continued. "But... hell, that don't mean I gotta deliberately fuck up his. S'only gonna complicate things. An' I hate complications."

"I... guess that makes sense. Still feels like bullshit, though."

"That's cuz you can't separate dick'n emotion, V," Cass replied with a shrug. "An' that's why y'keep gettin' yer heart re-broken, time'n again." Veronica screwed up her face and grumbled.

"You can be a real asshole sometimes, you know that?" Cass snorted out a laugh.

"Love you too, V."

It took a while, but I eventually pulled myself away, and made the long walk down the cell block... down to where Tuera was waiting for me. It felt like the journey took six years. I think it was all that talk from Cass about 'second chances' adding to my nerves. I mean, seriously... what did she think I was going to do? I didn't even know what the fuck I was going to do! I was flying by the seat of my pants even more than usual here, and that's saying a whole hell of a lot.

I wasn't exactly sure when I finally arrived at the cell. I just looked up, and there I was. Tuera was hanging her head, about as hunched over as she could be still strapped to the chair. I nodded at the two securitrons guarding the door; they moved away, and I opened up the transparent wall. She lifted her head, but didn't say anything as I entered, planting myself in the folding metal chair Chris had been using earlier.

For a few moments, we just sat there, staring at each other. Everything had gone quiet. Even the screaming in my head – which had been going on almost constantly since her helmet had come off – had stopped.

"Hey, Tu..." I coughed out, wringing my hands together nervously. I didn't know what else to do with them. Tuera didn't say anything. She just kept staring at me with those green eyes of hers.

The shape of her face was the same as I remembered, but there was hardly anything left of the woman I used to know looking back at me... except for the eyes. They may have been staring fiercely and defiantly, piercing through to the back of my skull, but those huge, vibrant green eyes of hers were still just as deep and as soulful as that night. The night she left me...

The last time she told me she loved me.

"You know..." I gestured in the vague direction of the antechamber. "The others... they want to know where the Enclave HQ is located. They think you know where it is."

"Colonel Smith," she replied, with a face carved from stone. "Serial Number: six-zero-two-dash-eight-niner-four-two-tango-alpha."

"No, Tu... I'm not... This isn't an interrogation." I leaned forward, resting my elbows on my knees. "Honestly, I don't care about that. That's not why I'm here." Tuera raised an eyebrow – but only just.

I didn't care about getting the Enclave HQ from her, because I knew that Yes Man was already working the problem, and we'd get an answer soon enough with or without her help. But there was no sense in letting that slip. Not yet.

"I only have... one question for you." My jaw clenched reflexively, in an effort to distract from the growing pain the center of my chest. "That night... when you left me without saying goodbye..." I took a deep breath, and tried to calm down long enough to get out the words:

"Did you take my copy of Red Headed Stranger?"

If the look of slack-jawed confusion on Tuera's face was any indication, then my little gambit worked. I knew that I wasn't going to get her to open up and communicate with me like a human being unless I caught her off guard first.

"Wh... huh?" Tuera asked, apparently having forgotten her Special Forces mantra. Well, that was a good sign.

"I was just thinkin' about that night..." I continued, smiling up at her. "We must have listened to that album, like, nine times. It was the only one I had and we didn't want to listen to the radio, you remember? We were staring up at the stars..." I chuckled to myself. "...drinking that crappy Cabernet... and then, later, we were doing... something else..." I snapped my fingers. "There was a bedroom, I think... Can you remember what it was?"

Tuera hung her head and looked away, finally breaking eye contact. I stopped smiling, and set my jaw again.

"The next morning, I woke up to an empty bed. An empty apartment. You left without a word... without a goodbye..." I inhaled sharply, trying to control my breathing. "It was like you had never even existed. You left... and I never understood why."

She stayed silent, and continued hanging her head.

"For the longest time, I thought it was something I did –" I began, but Tuera surprised me.

"No..." she breathed out. "No, it was... it wasn't you. It... it wasn't anything that you did..." She started shaking her head, but refused to look me in the eye.

"So then tell me," I shot back. "What was the reason you left?" After everything that had happened over the last few weeks, everything I'd learned about the Enclave – the Oil Rig, the Remnants, Shadow Ops, Project ASCENSION, and the recent news from Chris about the Enclave back east, not to mention the fact that Tuera hadn't aged a single day since the last time I'd seen her – I could probably guess the reason. But...

"I want to hear you say it," I growled, ignoring the pain in my chest.

"... Orders." Tuera finally said, after a very long hesitation. "I received new orders. I left because I had a job to do." She looked up, and looked at me with eyes that practically burned into the back of my skull. "I stillhave a job to do."

"And these orders were more important than me?" I asked, leaning back in the chair and folding my arms across my chest. "They were more important than us?"

"I waited for new orders to come for twenty six years," she said, without batting an eye. "That's a long time to wait." I quickly did the math in my head, and agreed: that was far too long than her youthful appearance would suggest. How old was she, anyway? "I swore an oath to serve my country, to support and defend the United States of America against all enemies, foreign and domestic. To bear true faith and allegiance to the same. To obey my orders. I wasn't prepared to betray all the values I stood for, all for..." Tuera paused, and the façade of stone-faced killer faltered somewhat. "... for a... a fleeting emotion."

"You're right," I shrugged. Tuera narrowed her eyes. "Twenty six years is a long time to wait." I leaned forward, to get down to her eye level. "It's long enough for you to see the world beyond the oil rig. It's certainly long enough for you to see through the lies of the Enclave's propaganda. And it's long enough for you to realize that the Enclave wasn't America... and it never was."

"Maybe..." Tuera whispered. "It's true that things here aren't quite as..." she paused, gulping hard. "... black and white as I used to believe." Then she shook her head again. "But even with the things I've learned and seen... all the people I've..." she paused again, glancing up at me again, briefly, before looking down again. "...met. It's not going to change anything. None of it means a thing."

"The hell it doesn't!" I spat angrily. The pain in my chest was getting worse. "I've heard about the Enclave's plans for genocide! And I know what they think of anyone who isn't them – people like me. Hell, one of those power armored fuck-sticks called me a mutant earlier today, right before he tried to smash my face in! As if the very word was justification enough for turning me into a bloody smear! Are you seriously going to sit there and tell me that after everything you've seen, living here – after everything that you and I shared together, all those years ago – you're seriously going to tell me that nothing has changed?"

"No." She hung her head, refusing to look me in the eye.

"If that's true, then why didn't you kill me when you had the chance?" I said, trying to contain my emotions long enough to make my point. I wasn't doing a very good job. She didn't look up or say anything. "You've had plenty of chances to rub me out since I saw you at that alley in Freeside. Probably a lot more than even I know about, the way you've been ghosting me these last two months..."

"It doesn't matter what I think..." Tuera said softly, still hanging her head. "The Enclave possesses both the will and the weapons to win, no matter the cost. They hold the only legitimate claim to the United States. Any opinions I might have are utterly irrelevant. Doubly so, because of the oath I swore. No matter what I might think, or any... personal feelings I might have..." She looked back up at me, steeling her expression again. "I will serve my country, right or wrong."

Before I could offer any sort of rebuttal, something unexpected happened.

"That's only half of the quote," Arcade spoke up behind me. Both Tuera and I looked up in surprise at the sound. Arcade had appeared from nowhere and was leaning against the edge of the opening in the clear wall. "I'm sorry, I didn't mean to interrupt. Just thought I might be able to help, and... well, the door was open." I glanced over to Tuera, who was looking up at Arcade in confusion, and then turned back to the bespectacled scientist.

"What do you mean, 'half the quote'?" I asked, just a little bit perplexed. Arcade shrugged.

"It's something the Enclave liked to do a lot," he explained. "They'd pick and choose which parts of history they would tell their citizens: cherry-picking everything that legitimized their government, and never mentioning anything that could potentially discredit or contradict anything they said. And that misquote of Senator Carl Schurz was a favorite of theirs – to encourage patriotism without thinking about it too hard."

I glanced back at Tuera; she was staring at Arcade with narrowed, distrustful eyes... but I was fairly certain I saw the tiniest glimmer of curiosity there. Maybe.

"So what did he actually say?" I asked. Arcade made a show of clearing his throat, and enunciating his next words even more carefully than he usually did:

"The Senator from Wisconsin cannot frighten me by exclaiming, 'My country, right or wrong.' In one sense I say so too. My country; and my country is the great American Republic. My county, right or wrong; if right, to be kept right; and if wrong, to be set right." Arcade smiled and chuckled softly to himself. "Those last words really change the entire meaning, don't they?"

"Why should I believe you?" Tuera hissed through gritted teeth. Again, Arcade made a big show of quoting something. And as he spoke, Tuera's expression turned from anger... to surprise.

"Never shall I fail my comrades," Arcade began. "Gallantly will I show the world that I am a specially selected and well-trained soldier."

"Energetically will I meet the enemies of my country," Tuera spoke up, obviously knowing how this went. I was just left confused. "I shall defeat them on the field of battle, for I am better trained and will fight with all my might."

"Readily will I display the fortitude required to fight on to the objective and complete the mission..." Arcade continued. "...though I be the lone survivor."

"Rangers lead the way," Tuera finished. "How did you... Who are you?" She asked, astonishment cutting through her whispered voice.

"My name is Arcade Israel Gannon..." he said, and then added: "... Junior." Tuera's eyes went wide immediately.

"You... you're Major Gannon's son, aren't you?" Arcade nodded. Meanwhile, I was busy burying my face in my hand and rubbing my temple.

For fuck sake! I thought. How does everyone know everyone else?

"Your oath is the same one that my father swore," Arcade said. "Not to defend the United States, but the Constitution. To follow orders, yes – but only lawful orders that obey the regulations in the Uniform Code of Military Justice. If an order – any order, even those issued by the President – is unlawful according to the UCMJ and the Constitution, then a soldier is morally and duty-bound to disobey it." Arcade shook his head. "After all the war crimes the Enclave has committed in the name of 'freedom' and 'liberty' over the years... you're not obligated to follow any of their orders."

Even after everything she had said, everything she had done, and the flimsy excuse she'd given for leaving which had only worsened the gaping hole in my heart... her expression as she took in Arcade's words was devastating.

It was the look of someone whose whole world view was crumbling into dust around them.

"C'mon," Arcade patted me on the shoulder, and gestured for the exit. "We should probably give her some space. She has a lot to think about." I nodded weakly, but didn't say anything. I got up from the chair, and carefully held on to whatever I could to steady myself as I left the cell: the chair back, the edge of the transparent wall, Arcade...

I left the cell in a haze. My mind was no longer screaming at me, but... it was like all I could hear was a dial tone. It was the 'cotton balls shoved in your skull' feeling you get when every bit of you has gone numb. I reached out, and fumbled around on the wall to try and close the cell door.

Right before I hit the button and the door slid shut, I thought I heard the faint sounds of sobbing. Maybe. I wasn't certain, though. I wasn't certain of anything at that point.

Arcade kept hold of me as the two of us made our way back to the rest of the group. We got about halfway before I started to lose my balance. I toppled sideways, stumbling into the wall, and clutched my aching head.

"Sheason?" Arcade tried to help keep me up, but it was no use. I slid down the smooth wall, landing on my ass, and trying to hide my face from view. "What's wrong?"

"Sh- she's gone, Arcade..." I rasped out hoarsely, unable to contain it any longer. "The woman I... I used to know. The... she's just... she's..." I clutched my head with both hands and started shaking it, back and forth. "I could hardly recognize her, man!"

While I sat there, a broke-down piece of a man, Arcade did his best to try and comfort me. Patting me on the shoulder, offering encouragement... but it wasn't much use. Because I just kept thinking the same thing, over and over and over again:

Did the girl I fell in love with ever truly exist?

When we finally made it back to the antechamber, I'd managed to compose myself. At least... well enough that I wasn't a blubbering idiot. And almost immediately, my path was blocked by Boone. He was scowling at me from behind his sunglasses, standing in front of me like a wall.

"Why do you always do this?" he asked.

"Do what?" I asked. My head was a still little fuzzy.

"You always bring in this soap-opera bullshit, and drag us down into it." Boone grunted. "Why?"

"B'cause," Cass wrapped her arm around my shoulder and gave me a hearty shake. "Sheason here is a shit magnet. He can't help it." She patted my shoulder several times. "I'm sorry you struck out, man. But... s'prob'ly fer th' best, y'know?"

"Yeah..." I grunted. "Probably... for the best..."

Where the fuck is a good distraction when you need it?

Ding!

Everyone's attention was drawn to the elevator, and I was extremely grateful for the fantastic timing. The doors slid open, and both Emily and April appeared.

"Oh! You're all here! Good, I have some news!" Emily said happily, nodding as she looked at the assembled crowd. Before she got too far, Chris stepped up with a smile, offering his hand. Emily looked up... then down... then back up again. Real subtle, Em.

"Hey there, red. My name's Chris. What's your name?" He shook her hand, and she started grinning back at him, giggling and blushing.

"Uh... E-Emily Ortal?" It was almost like she wasn't sure what her own name was.

"It's nice to meet you, Emily..." Chris replied.

"Stop it!" Fawkes grumbled, in a tone of voice like he was scolding a puppy.

"Can I say hello to anyone?" Chris sighed. Emily just kept laughing, waving dismissively at Fawkes.

"Oh, I don't mind!" Emily let go of his hand, and immediately rushed over to Arcade, and whispered to him, just loud enough that I was sure everyone could hear anyway: "Oh my GOD! Did you see – you could grate CHEESE on those abs!"

"I know, right?" Arcade started nodding. Meanwhile, Chris was about to introduce himself to April, but surprisingly, the black haired scientist beat him to it.

"Wow," she said, with just a hint of a smile creeping into the edge of her mouth. "Can I tap your chest?" Chris seemed a bit confused by the request, but shrugged anyway.

"Sure, go ahead." She started prodding him in the pecs, and each poke landed with an audible thud. April started laughing.

"Hah-hah-haa... ho-holy crap!" I sighed, trying to pull myself away from the spectacle that was equal parts hilarious and embarrassing, and tried to catch Emily's attention.

"Em, stop gossiping about the slab of ground chuck," I said, snapping my fingers in front of her several times. "What's this news you wanted to tell us?"

"OH! Right. Yes," she cleared her throat. "Well, it's not actually me that has the news. I mean, I helped with the decoding, but it was Yes Man who figured it out."

"What, you guys were able to backtrace the teleport signal already?" I asked; Emily nodded. "So, why didn't he just tell us?" I asked, pointing at the securitron in the corner; it didn't have Yes Man's smiling cartoon face, but the generic soldier MkII face.

"Honestly? I'm not really sure. Something about needing the big screen, I think?"

Ding.

"Alright, Yes Man!" I was the first one out of the elevator, and slid down the banister to get to the big screen as quickly as possible. "Lay it on me. Let's see what you've got." As the rest of the group started to calmly file into the Penthouse behind me, Yes Man's face winked into existence on the big screen.

"Oh! Hi there! So I've got good news and bad news!" he said; somewhere above me, I heard Chris whistle, muttering something like 'That's a nice view!'

"Let me guess," I said. "The good news is that you know where the Enclave HQ is located?" As I spoke, Chris was the first to come down the stairs to join me.

"Yes, indeed!" Yes Man's screen flickered. "The signal has been decoded, backtraced, and the point of origin located!"

"Fantastic!" Chris shouted, obviously unable to contain his glee. "Alright, so, where on Earth are these idiots coming from?"

"That's the bad news!" Yes Man's cheery tone didn't change. When Chris and I looked up at the screen in confusion, he continued. "Allow me to illustrate with a graphical representation, courtesy of an imaging program Jeeves' provided!"

Yes Man's face disappeared. Several lines of code scrolled along the big screen, and the next thing we knew, a wireframe image appeared. It took me a few seconds to recognize: it was an overhead view of the exact street in Freeside where the Enclave had teleported down. This was confirmed a second later when a triangle of bright lines appeared – lines connecting the locations where the three teleport homers had been dropped. The view tilted, and the bright lines shot up into the sky, above the street. The view started panning up and out, following the line – the path the signal had taken. Higher and higher it went, eventually connecting to a satellite in the upper atmosphere, just like the Big MT teleport satellites. I expected it to connect to another satellite or two, and then head back down to the surface of the planet... but that's not what it did. The signal path just kept getting further and further away from Earth, and the image followed the trail as it bounced off several satellites, finally coming to a stop at the point of origin.

The room was deathly silent. If they were anything like me, then everyone was staring at the screen in shock and disbelief.

"I-is... is that... that's... Wh-wha... huh?" Cass was the first to find words, but couldn't seem to remember how to use them.

"The Moon," Chris sighed, shaking his head. "The Enclave are coming from the Moon."