Archive of Our Own ^beta

Chapter Text

“Almost there, Chico.”
The brown-and-white mutt whimpered dejectedly. Guy could swear he could understand everything he was saying. So, he rubbed Chico’s head reassuringly and gave him a smile.
“I know, boy. You must be tired. We’ve been out a little longer than usual, but once we get to Vegas, we can relax.”
They were on the road to the shining city that always stood just on the horizon, the tall spire marking it in the day, and the bright lights shining like a beacon at night. Finally, it was just an hour or two away. He hadn’t heard much of New Vegas. Just that a lot of people lost their caps in it. Mostly from the soldiers, really. He could see a couple on the road ahead, sitting beside a barrel with a fire lit inside, playing cards.
He always reminisced about his tour in the NCR when he saw the soldiers. 4 years had passed so quickly, he thought. He had spent most of them either prospecting or collecting bounties. He preferred prospecting, even if it paid less. He didn’t like getting his hands bloodied if he could help it. He gave a quick hello to the NCR soldiers, and as he approached, one of them looked up from underneath her face wrap.
“Be careful. Gettin’ dark soon.”
“‘Course,” Guy tipped his hat politely and continued.
It was getting dark, and quick. The strip seemed to glow more with each passing minute, but those minutes seemed to drag on forever. He pulled a small, portable radio out from underneath the suit and switched it on. It stuttered for a bit, and he had to hit it a few times, but it soon sputtered to life.
Ain’t That a Kick In The Head. Guy grinned. His favorite song. Or, one of his favorites. He slipped his backpack back on and gripped the radio in his left hand. The time passed much quicker with music, and Chico certainly seemed happier for it. He wondered if he’d hear anything more interesting or juicy on the radio sometime. Perhaps he’d have to make that news himself.

When Guy spotted a metal gate, he couldn’t help but feel relieved, even if the Strip was farther back from it. He’d have to go through Freeside first if he wanted to go to the Strip anytime soon. He didn’t mind, as long as he could find a place to lay his head. Nowhere’s worse than Reno, and Guy had seen his fair share of that god-forsaken place.
He noticed a few odd sorts by the gate. Three men, all wearing white shirts, leather jackets, and jeans. They also all sported large, clearly carefully styled, if somewhat tacky pompadours.
“Hello, gentlemen!” Guy smiled and put up his hand in a friendly manner, making sure they knew he had no intention of drawing his gun.
The men looked up and looked him over in a rather skeptical manner,
“Who’re you?” One of them spoke up.
“Guy. Guy de Devaul, at your service.”
The men stared for a bit.
“I know, odd name, anyways! This is the way to Freeside, then?”
One of the men scoffed, “Don’t pretend, asshole. We all know you were goin’ to the Strip.”
“Well, yes, but-”
“Alright, buddy, let me guess what’s gonna happen,” Another one of the men spoke up, “You’re gonna try to get into the Strip, you’re gonna realize you’re never gettin’ the caps, then you’re gonna look around Freeside, and you’re gonna say, ‘okay, this is good enough.’ Then you’re gonna go to the Atomic Wrangler and gamble and drink away your money, maybe buy a cheap whore or something. Then, when you don’t have any caps left, you’re gonna go to the old Mormon Fort, whining about your addiction. They’ll help you, and once you’re ‘clean’, you’ll think, ‘oh, one more trip to The Wrangler couldn’t hurt’, and the cycle repeats, and you get stuck in this place ‘till you die.”
Guy didn’t quite know how to reply to something like that.
“Exactly.” The men continued talking amongst each other, dismissing Guy completely.
Guy already wasn’t fond of gambling, but he made a note to not visit the Atomic Wrangler as he turned to the gate and pushed it open. He held it open for a moment to let Chico get in, then pushed it closed again.
The streets didn’t look much better than the other city ruins Guy had seen elsewhere. The roads and sidewalks were cracked and stained with who-knows-what. The buildings didn’t seem to be in much better shape, and there didn’t appear to be a hotel in sight. People drifted about the streets in dirty, torn clothing. Most looked hungry. It was quite a depressing sight. But, still better than Reno.
Guy made a cursory search of Freeside and found no places to rent rooms. The only places really of note were the larger, open, warehouse area to the east, and the large, walled fort in the middle of the neighborhood. He wasn’t very sure if the residents of the fort were willing to allow a stranger in, however, so he opted to hide out in a mostly intact building next to the junk wall surrounding the neighborhood. He went up the stairs, although he was a bit worried they would fall apart underneath his feet, and settled down on the second floor to unpack a sleeping bag and a blanket, laying both on the ground beside each other. Chico plodded over to the blanket, circled a few times, and collapsed, very used to his routine. Guy sighed in relief and slid off his bag, his duster, and his bulletproof vest. He took a box of deviled eggs out of his backpack, popped a few into his mouth, then shoved the rest of the box and his articles of clothing into the pack. Once he’d chewed up the eggs, he pushed his pack aside and scratched Chico’s ears.
“Keep watch over my stuff, alright, boy?” He smiled and slipped into his sleeping bag, his bolt-action rifle beside it, just in case. But he knew Chico would do his job well.

Guy got ready quickly in the morning. Even if he couldn’t get into the Strip, it seemed like Freeside needed all the help he could get, and he certainly didn’t mind contributing to it. Chico looked significantly more enthusiastic than last night, so hopefully he’d follow along with Guy’s plans.
They headed downstairs, where Guy set his sights on the Mormon Fort. It was, apparently, the main “base” for The Followers of The Apocalypse in New Vegas. He was certainly a supporter of the NCR, but he personally thought The Followers of The Apocalypse were doing a good thing. Guy had gained more of an appreciation for doctors than for soldiers as he got older. Made him wish his hands could give life instead of just…take it.
He headed over to the Mormon fort and pushed open the gate. Directly in front of the entrance was a small half-circle of sandbags with a small table behind it, with two chairs on either side, presumably for guard duty. A few feet behind the table was a flagpole flying The Followers of The Apocalypse’s symbol on a flag - a red circle with a thin cross inside it. Around the edges of the fort’s walls lay about six large tents, and a few mercenaries were milling around the table behind the sandbags, while a multitude of Follower doctors were hurrying to and fro. No one seemed to notice Guy. He couldn’t blame them. Considering where they were, they were probably kept up to their neck in patients day in and day out. He headed around the camp, peeking into tents every now and then, hoping to maybe find someone who could let him know how to help. However, most of the tents housed patients, tended to by various doctors.
As he made his way over to the southeastern tent, however, he noticed that though there were a couple of bunk beds inside, there were no patients. The only person inside was a rather pale blonde man with eyeglasses writing on some sort of form on a clipboard at a table piled with more papers. Guy paused and looked around inside, thinking about whether or not to say something. The man sighed irritably and spoke first after Guy contemplated for a bit too long.
“Do you need anything?”
“I was just looking around the fort. I didn’t expect to find a doctor holed up by himself in a tent.”
“I do my research here, if you’re so curious as to why I’m ‘holed up by myself in a tent.’”
Guy smiled sheepishly and stepped inside. “Sorry, didn’t mean to offend. What kind of research?”
The man seemed a bit surprised Guy had asked, but seemed somewhat happy to explain anyways. “Oh, you know. Finding alternative treatments for common illnesses and injuries. Stimpaks out of barrel cacti and other fantastic improbabilities. As far as fruitless wastes of time go, it's quite noble in its aims.”
“Why do you do research instead of providing medical assistance?”
“Not all Followers are 'people persons.' Besides, someone needs to do research. I have no problem with Julie sticking me back here. Out of sight, out of mind. There are worse things one can be, though I do admit, it is a bit boring. Though it has a noble goal, I don't think this research will yield much fruit. No pun intended.”
“You don’t sound too...enthusiastic.”
“I'm enthusiastic about helping people, but nihil novi sub sole.”
Guy lost him there, “Nih...Nihil…”
“Oh, sorry. It means, eh, ‘There is nothing new under the sun.’ If agave and mesquite were that miraculous, the locals would have figured it out a few thousand years ago.”
Guy liked this man. He was odd and standoffish, but interesting. “I realize I never asked for your name.”
“Oh, yeah. Arcade Gannon. Nice to meet you.”
“Odd name.”
“Yeah, I know. Literally every time I introduce myself to anyone.”
Guy chuckled, “Nah, I can’t judge you. My name’s Guy De Devaul.”
Arcade paused. “De Devaul?”
“I’m not fond of the person whose name I originally took, so I took another. A while ago, now.” Guy cleared his throat. “Anyways, where did you learn that? Haven’t heard it before, except from…” Guy decided to stop.
“Not from the Legion, if that's what you're getting at. Books. Sheet music. Gladiator movie holotapes. Bits and pieces here and there. The Followers have extensive libraries, but we all draw water from the same old well. Even Caesar.”
“Ah. I realize we got off topic from the research, what exactly is the goal?”
“Well, for the past hundred years or so, the Followers have managed to get by using salvaged medical supplies from the Old World. But the side effect of medical success is that more people live longer. Funny how that works. Eventually, we'll run out of hospitals to loot. We need new ways to produce those supplies. Or maybe old ways, if this research goes anywhere. I’m…honestly a little shocked you care enough to ask about it.”
“Well, it’s always good to ask after hope, no matter how faint it may seem.”
“Seems pretty faint to me. I…haven’t found anything helpful in a while, actually.”
“Hm. Why don’t you come with me, then? I could always use help prospecting. And you might find something that aids you in your pursuit.”
“No offense intended, but why would I do that?”
Guy cracked his cheesiest grin. “I need a good-looking doctor to help take care of me in the big, bad wasteland.”
Arcade stared for a moment, looking more embarrassed on Guy’s part, before eventually cracking a small, bemused smile. “Overt flirtation will get you everywhere, you know.” He cleared his throat and looked back at his clipboard. “But, on a slightly more serious note, we still need some help here. So, let’s say this. As long as you donate either medical supplies or caps made from the things you salvage and don't do anything obnoxious, like trying to help Caesar's Legion, and we should be fine. Understood?
“Perfect. We’ve got a deal.” Guy held out his hand.
Arcade shook it. “Good.”
“So, from what I’ve seen, I’m guessing The Followers need that help?”
“Definitely. If you want to help, talk to Julie.” He paused. “Although, I thought you were going scaveng-I mean, prospecting.”
“I am. After I help out a bit in Freeside. And I think helping out you guys is a good place to start.”
“I’m sorry, I’m just not familiar with the plan you have?”
“Sorry. Hm.” Guy paused to formulate an actual plan. “I’ll help out a bit here, then I’m going to head on over to that Repconn facility south of here. Parts like conductors and fission batteries go for a lot. And, if we’re lucky, we’ll find some medical supplies there. Robots are difficult to deal with, but they scare off other potential prospectors, which means more loot for us.”
“Oh, that...place. Sure. Why not? But let’s stick with helping out first, alright?”

Roberto poked around the robot, trying to figure out why it wouldn’t boot up. He’d found himself in a town called Primm. That hell-hole was overrun by powder gangers, so he’d stopped by, hoping to grab some valuables in the chaos. As he’d hoped, it appeared he had found a fleck of gold in the pile of, well, a pile of feces. If he could get it working again. He had managed to sneak past the powder gangers that were skulking about outside and into a little house by the abandoned casino they were holed up in. The smaller building appeared to be a small office for the Mojave Express. By some stroke of luck, that house contained the robot, sitting on the counter. He had been poking around in the robot for about an hour, his toolbox sitting, open, beside it on the counter. First he’d need to clean out and get the hardware working, and even after that he needed to make sure the robot’s programming didn’t need some major overhauling.
Finally, after a few more adjustments to said programming, he closed up the robot and knocked on it a bit. The robot let out a steady whirring noise and slowly floated upwards, making a few beeping noises.
“Alright, let’s see if the little bugger is running right.” Roberto rubbed his hands together. “[Companion Protocol::Begin].”
The little robot made a few more beeping sounds, then floated downwards a bit to Rob’s eye level.
“Hm, now what to call you…” Roberto gently placed his hands on the robot’s sides and turned it around a bit, noticing a beaten-up bumper plate on its side.
All that was left of the bumper plate read ED-E, with everything else worn off.
“Aw, ED-E.” Rob smiled and pet the robot’s head. “ED-E’s your name then, mate?”
ED-E made a few more beeping sounds.
“I noticed you have a little laser attached, ED-E. Can you use it?”
ED-E just beeped again.
“Hm. Alright, that is…very helpful.” Rob turned to the door. “Well, I won’t be able to sneak out with you by my side. Let’s just shoot ‘em down, hm?”
ED-E beeped and followed Rob as he slung his plasma rifle off his back and into his hands, then opened the door a bit.
“Alright, enemies. Those are enemies. Do you have a battle protocol?”
There was a loud bang as a bullet whizzed by the door.
“FUCK!” Rob jumped back inside. “ED-E, I need you to-”
ED-E suddenly began to play some sort of grand, fanfare music and floated out from behind the door frame. More blasts rang out, and tings as the bullets bounced off ED-E before he started firing back. Rob laid in wait until ED-E’s music abruptly stopped, his laser fire had ceased, and he floated over to Rob. He peeked out to see the two powder gangers that were outside were now dead, with small, precise holes burned into their chests and heads by ED-E’s laser.
“Huh.” Rob walked out from behind the door frame and slung his plasma rifle over his shoulder. “Bloody hell. You know how to shoot.”
ED-E beeped.
“Alrighty. Where do you wanna go next?”
ED-E just bounced a little bit from side to side.
“That’s convenient, same here. Well, if we wanna head to New Vegas and not get torn a new asshole by Deathclaws, we’ll need to…” Rob brought up his Pip-Boy and looked at the map. “Go to Nipton, first of all, then Novac...and so on.”
ED-E beeped happily. Or, at least, it sounded happy to Rob.
“Great! Then we’ll need some travel music.” Rob quickly turned on the New Vegas radio as the host, Mr. New Vegas, began talking.
“You know, some folks ask me if there’s a Mrs. New Vegas.” His voice projected through a bit of radio static. “Well, of course there is. You’re her.”
Rob giggled sheepishly. “Aw...I’m gonna meet him someday, ED-E.”
ED-E beeped again.
“Hey, some men make exceptions for...other men. It happens! I have a chance!” Rob gave ED-E a playful slap. “Now, let’s get going.”
Rob closed up his toolbox and slipped it into his satchel, then walked out of the building and over the dilapidated bridge that led to where the NCR had set up camp. As he passed one of the soldiers, they stared at the robot.
“Did that thing just shoot down those guys?”
“Yep.”
“Could we borrow-”
“No.” Rob continued on his way, back the way he’d come, actually.
He and ED-E headed down the highway, Rob checking his Pip-Boy from time to time. The sun was already starting to set, and Rob remembered when he first came to California. Hurt to think about it. Soon he’d be in Nevada, and once in Vegas, he could well and truly lose himself again. Like it was meant to be.
On the way into Primm, Rob had come across an old ranger station that had been inhabited by a few Jackal Gang members, clearly too high to think straight. He never felt much better than them, but, hell, he was worse than a lot of people.
Rob had found some samples of drugs on them when he’d gone through them that morning. Some Psycho, Hydra, the works, so that could keep him going for a bit. He decided to take a quick nap near the gas station. He only needed a little sleep nowadays, and soon it would be nighttime. He preferred to travel when it wasn’t too hot.

Rob only slept for about 3 hours. Good enough, he thought. As they continued up the highway, he noticed an NCR outpost up a rather steep hill. A lot of old pre-war cars were strewn about the road leading up to the outpost, with a few caravans headed into or out of the outpost. It appeared to be leading into the rest of California. Rob had come through there, thankfully, faster due to his lack of a caravan.
About a half-hour after spotting the outpost - and some large statue of two men right by it, he didn’t give a shit who they were - he came across a group of fire ants. Little pricks. He decided to just avoid them for the sake of saving time. He turned onto the road to his left, to the east, and headed up the road to Nipton.
Nipton seemed to be the usual - a shithole, littered with addicts and drunks. Someone propositioned Rob on his way in, but he wasn’t in the mood. He’d been feeling down lately, more than usual, and he didn’t feel like spending the caps on a quick blow if he wasn’t even gonna enjoy it completely. But it was…tenser since he’d last been there. NCR soldiers were milling about, which he certainly hadn’t noticed last time he was there. At the very least, they were in much greater numbers, and mostly seemed to be there for the whores and the alcohol. He didn’t see any townspeople in the streets other than the prostitutes, however, which was…odd.
“I heard the mayor’s been real giddy lately. Whatcha think it’s about?”
“Y’mean Steyn? He’s always acting like a…fuckin’ frenzied asshole. He’s probably just happy ‘bout all this business he’s gettin’ from us.”
“What’s your fuckin’ problem? Rose ain’t a knock-out, but she’s the best we’re gettin’ round here, and at a discount. I say you’re losin’ out.”
“Yeah, well, I’m only here ‘cause you-Whoa, hey, is that a flying robot?”
Rob ignored the NCR soldiers speaking in harsh whispers. Nipton was none of his business, with Vegas so close by, and the whores weren't particularly impressive, either.
He headed through Nipton, past an old sign reading “Welcome to Nevada!” and entered a pass through tall, steep hills. The road there was also littered with pre-war cars, and a trailer, which housed a few caps, a few bottles of Sunset Sarsaparilla - he was never quite sure what was producing them at this point - and some energy cells. He opened ED-E up, and was putting in a few of the cells, when he heard people approaching. He slowly closed ED-E back up and peeked out of the trailer.
It was a Caesar's Legion squad. What were they doing this far west? Rob grabbed ED-E and held him close as he sank back in the trailer and his chest tightened. His hate was so intense, but the fear was so much stronger. It didn’t negate the hate, they just built on each other until Rob felt like he needed to scream to release the pressure. He clutched ED-E tighter as he heard their thumping, crowded, but uniform footsteps drone past him.
ED-E beeped.
The footsteps stopped.
Rob’s breathing stopped.
“Who’s there?” A cold, stern voice barked, his words echoing down the pass.
Maybe he should jump out and just start shooting. He didn’t even want to be here anymore. At least he could do something worthwhile with his miserable life before he was gone.
But he just couldn’t.
“NCR?” Another voice questioned, quieter.
“...No. They would have opened fire by now. Likely another degenerate, a straggler from the source.”
“Then…?”
“Burning out the degeneracy at the source is more important than its symptoms. Leave it.”
The march continued, and faded. Rob peeked out again to find them further down the pass. As soon as he saw how far they were, he bolted out of the trailer and down the pass.
Roberto heard the commotion even further down the pass, a while after he saw them. Scared commotion. Screams, gunshots, the like. The silence after was worse.
Rob kept running.

The day was almost over when Rob saw Novac. He hurried his pace a bit, after having walked a little. He’d passed by an NCR Ranger Station, but he’d chosen to keep going. Novac looked okay compared to other towns he’d seen, a sleepy, quiet community, undisturbed by the events of neighboring towns. He headed over to what looked like apartments, by a large dinosaur sculpture, higher than any other building in the town, and entered the office.
It looked pretty generic. Just as one would expect an office to look like. An old woman with a gray-green dress, gray hair, and eyeglasses was sitting behind a counter to the right of the entrance.
“Hey, you, old bird.”
The woman looked up from a magazine she was reading. “Me?”
“You see any other old birds around here?”
The woman stared. “Well, I’m not familiar with the expression, but I’ll assume you’re talking to me?”
Roberto sighed in exasperation. “What’d I expect, honestly? Anyways, this is Novac?”
“Sure is! And this is the Dino Dee-lite Motel! You need a room?”
“I’ll see. Who are you?”
“Jeannie May Crawford. Pleasure to make your acquaintance, Mr?”
“Roberto Gonzalez. Call me Rob, don’t ask about the accent. I noticed the dinosaur out there.”
“Yup, that’s our mascot, Dinky the Dinosaur. Cliff sells his figurines out of there.”
Rob raised a brow. “Excuse me?”
“Oh, sorry. The dinosaur is a building in and of itself. It’s Cliff’s shop. He sells Dinky figurines and essentials, but he would be so happy if someone bought one-”
“No.”
Jeannie frowned. “Hm. Alright. Our snipers are also up there. Vargas in the day, Boone at night. They keep watch over the roads. They’re really a blessing.”
“I’m sure. So, what’s the quickest way out of this dump?”
“Well, if you want to leave, you can. I’ll certainly have no issue with it.” Jeannie let out a “humph.”
“Alrighty, then.” Roberto turned to walk out the door.
He caught Jeannie saying something before he left. “Just like that little Carla…”
He didn’t know who Carla was, and frankly, he didn’t care.
It was almost completely dark when he headed over to the large dinosaur and found that there was a door on its side, with stairs leading up to it. He entered the dinosaur to find what looked like a tiny general store. There was a small counter directly in front of the entrance, and along the small left wall beside the entrance were shelves of...well, junk, mostly. The counter was loaded with Dinky dinosaur figurines and a few rocket figurines filled with a strange green glowing liquid, with a spot for the caps register. On the right wall behind the counter lay a door, which Roberto guessed led to some sort of supply room. Along with the door, there was a chair behind the counter, and a man, who looked like he was leaving.
“Sorry, but we’re closing up now. If you wanted any of the figurines you can come tom-”
“No.”
“Oh.” The man let out a defeated sigh. “No one ever wants the dinosaurs.”
With that, he walked past Roberto and ED-E and left the dinosaur. Building, whatever it was.
Roberto noticed a flight of stars on the left wall, opposite the door to the supply room, and followed them up to a door. Interesting.
He opened the door to find it led to the inside of the dinosaur’s mouth, a further interesting development. However, it was made a little cramped by another man there, a rather built white man with a red beret, with a yellow insignia that appeared to be an animal skull with two rifles crossed underneath. He was wearing a rather military-looking outfit of a plain white shirt, cargo pants, and combat boots.
The man jumped a little bit when he heard Roberto walk in, “Goddamnit! Don’t sneak up on me like that. What do you want?” He had a gruff, restrained voice, like he was holding back…something.
“I’m looking around.”
“There’s nothing up here.”
Rob smirked. “There’s a sniper.”
He didn’t seem to appreciate Rob’s quip. “You should go.”
Roberto guessed this was Boone. “Do you treat everyone around here like this?”
“Yes.”
“Well, I’m not from around here,” Roberto huffed. “But you clearly don’t want me here, so…”
Boone paused, “No, no you’re not, are you? Maybe you shouldn’t go. Not yet, anyways.”
“...Are you asking for a sexual favor? Because you’re not attractive enough for that.”
“What? No.” Boone backed away a bit.
“Then why are you asking for...whatever it is you’re asking me for?”
“I need someone I can trust. You’re a stranger. That’s a start.”
“You only trust strangers?”
“I can’t trust anyone around here.”
“...Why?”
“Will you just listen to what I need?”
Roberto decided that this might be a way to make some caps. Rob never turned down caps, “Alright, what do you need?”
“I need you to find something for me. I don’t know if there’s anything to find, but I need someone to try.” Boone took a deep breath, and his voice got more strained when he continued, “My wife was taken from our home by Legion Slavers one night while I was on watch. They knew when to come and what route to take, and they only took Carla. Someone set it up. I don’t know who.”
Rob thought that was a lot to drop on a stranger upon a first impression, but he was too curious and too interested in a reward to care. “So, you want me to look for your wife?”
“My wife’s dead. I want the son of a bitch who sold her.”
“How do you know your wife’s dead?”
“I just know.”
“Great answer. Now, what do I do when I find whoever did this?”
“Bring them out in front of the nest while I’m on duty. I’ll give you my NCR beret to put on. It’ll be our signal, so I know you’re standing with him. I’ll take care of the rest. I need to do this myself.”
“Alrighty then, mate, so are we gonna talk prices?”
“Excuse me? Why would you listen to me for this entire time if you were expecting to get paid?”
“That’s exactly why I listened to you.”
“Fine. I’ll make it worth your while, if you get the job done. And one more thing. We shouldn’t speak until this is over.”
“Makes sense. Beret?”
Boone took off his beret and handed it to Rob,
“Oooh, stylish.” Rob inspected the beret. “Could I keep it when I catch ‘em?”
“No.”

“He better be paying me for this, ED-E.”
ED-E beeped.
“Now, now, ED-E. Only I get to bad-mouth people.”
Roberto decided to buy a room from that Jeannie woman, and headed back into the apartments’ office. Jeannie looked to be getting ready to leave soon.
“Hey, old bird.”
“I’m sorry, sir, but I don’t want to speak to you.”
Rob sighed dramatically. “Alright, look, I’m sorry. This is...a nice place, I was just messing with you.”
Jeannie paused and looked suspiciously at Rob for a moment, then smiled in a cold, performative manner. “It’s alright, hun, we all say things we regret sometimes. What’d you want to talk about?”
“Well, two things. First, how much is the open room?”
“About 100 caps. Well, along with the rent check every month.”
“I’ll take it. Just for as long as I need it, though.” Rob put up his hand as a signal to wait as he rummaged through his satchel and got out his pouch, filled with his caps.
He handed Jeannie the caps and she handed him a room key, “It’s the second-floor room closest to this here office. Now, anything else ya needed?”
“Yeah. What did you think of Carla Boone?”
“...Boone’s wife?” Jeannie sighed, “Well, what can I say about her? She was like...a cactus flower. Pretty to look at, but there was just no gettin’ close to her.”
“Is that so?” Rob cocked his head to the side.
“Well, it’s a shame what happened, her disappearing and all, but...I personally think she ran away. She was a city girl at heart. She was used to the lights and fast livin’ of New Vegas, and I don’t think she could ever have gotten used to a small town like ours.”
“Ah. So you believe she ran off.”
“I do, yes.”
“Hm.”
Jeannie shifted uncomfortably. “Well, I gotta be going now. If you have any complaints about the room, or need to contact me at night, I live in the house west of this office. Down the...road, anyways, good night.”
She headed out the door, and Roberto took a look behind the counter, spotting a floor safe by the chair behind the counter.
“Ah, ED-E, you know I can’t resist an unguarded safe.” Roberto grinned and pulled a few bobby pins and a screwdriver out of his pocket.
He made quick work of the safe. Lockpicking was an essential skill if you wanted to make the most of your looting, whether it be entirely legal or not. He opened it up and found a hefty amount of caps, some drugs, and a suspicious slip of paper. He stowed away the caps and the drugs and took a look at the paper.
It seems the crack-pot Legion scribes had kept some record of the sale, as well as that of...an unborn child. Rob considered himself fairly hardened by what he'd seen in the wastes, and even he got a tight feeling in his chest as he read it. He wasn't sure if Boone wanted to read it, but either way, he had his proof, and it didn't look good for that old bat.
As Roberto headed out of the office and to Jeannie’s house, he took Boone’s beret from his satchel and slipped it onto his head. Thankfully, she hadn’t gone into her house just yet. And, further, he wouldn’t feel particularly bad about this.
“Hey, y'old-I mean, Jeannie!”
Jeannie turned around. “Oh, hello there! Any issues with the room?”
“Not yet. But for now, there’s something I need you to see in front of the dinosaur.”
“Really? What is it?”
“I’m not quite sure. I wanted to know if you knew anything about it.”
“...Alright, hun. I’ll see what it is.”
Rob grinned the second he turned around and led Jeannie over to the front of the dinosaur. One they were there, she wandered ahead and looked around.
“What is it, h-”
There was a loud bang as bits of the back of Jeannie’s head scattered across the ground and Rob’s face.
“OH SHIT! FUCK!” Rob jumped back, wiping his face on his sleeve. “Fuckin’ sick! Bloody fucking hell!”
He spit on the ground, just to make sure any residue left his mouth, took his 100 caps back from Jeannie’s pockets, and headed back to the dinosaur's mouth. Boone was waiting solemnly at the top, still clutching his rifle.
“Well, that’s it then.” Boone turned around. “That was fast. How’d you know?”
“I found the...uh, bill of sale.” Roberto slipped the paper out of his bag.
“I...don’t want it.” Boone held out his hand. Rob realized after a moment he wanted the beret, and handed it back to him. “I guess I shouldn’t be surprised. It’d be like them to keep paperwork.”
“Thanks for the fuckin’ blood on my face, by the way,” Rob muttered.
“Shooting people isn't exactly a clean business.”
“Anyway, you said you had something for me?”
“Ah, right. Here.” Boone pulled a folded piece of red cloth from his pocket, and a pouch of caps. “This is all I can give. I think our dealings are done here.”
Rob took the cloth and unfolded it to find it was a beret, just like Boone’s. "And here I thought I would be giving up a perfectly good cap. Thanks, I suppose." He pocketed the caps and put on the beret, though, notably, it didn't have the actual markings on the insignia. “So, what will you do now?”
“I don’t know. I won’t be staying, I know that. Don’t see much point in anything right now, except hunting legionaries.”
“Ah. So you’re an outlaw now, then?”
“Nah. People die out there. They’ll just think she ran into a raider or something. That I didn’t see. If I leave, they’ll think I left because of the guilt.”
“Why don’t you come with me? I could use a bodyguard.”
“You don’t want to do that.”
“I thought snipers worked in teams. I’m a decent spotter, I think, as long as I don’t lose my glasses.”
“Huh. Yeah. Working on your own, you’re a lot less effective. I’ve been there and paid for it.” Boone sighed and shook his head. “But this isn’t gonna end well.”
“Pfft. Nothing ever ends well with me, so you aren’t changing much. Let's get out of here."

Chapter Text

“From where you’re…”

Maybe she was dead. Maybe this was what death was. Like dreaming. Dreaming of nothing, but flashes of something. Dante and his weird rumbling. Mama’s rice and beans. Friends, but not for long. The ground split.
And then it was blinding white again. Luci didn’t like that. She preferred to be sleeping, but the blinding light wouldn’t let her. Damn it. She forced her eyes open, prompting the blinding white light to start to retreat to the corners of her vision, until the white light appeared to only be coming from what was presumably a window above her head. She was laying in a cot in a small room that appeared to be in an old, worn, wooden house. The somewhat solid walls and flooring indicated that at least the foundation was pre-war, and the room itself was well-light by the sunlight streaming through the window.
“...You’re awake. How about that.” The voice Luci heard to her left was scratchy and worn.
She pushed herself up, prompting the light to get too bright again, and her ears to start ringing. She groaned and instinctively brought her hand up to her head as the old man sitting next to her tentatively reached out to still her.
“Whoa, easy there. Easy. You been out cold a couple days now. Why don’t you just relax a second? Get your bearings.”
The old man himself was a somewhat frail, small-looking man with a balding head of white hair and a thick mustache. His face was noticeably worn and weary, but he looked kind, and he was sitting on a rickety plastic chair in front of a gurney. An iv stand was standing next to her, making her think that whatever he was treating her for, he had treated her in that room.
Luci squinted, still holding her head. “Shit. Really?”
“Really.” The old man leaned forward. “Let’s see what the damage is. How about your name? Can you tell me your name?”
“Right. Uh…Lucía Perez. But everyone calls me Luci.”
“Huh. Can’t say it’s what I’d have picked for you.” He smiled humorously. “But that’s your name, that’s your name. I’m Doc Mitchell. Welcome to Goodsprings.”
“Heh. I can’t say I’d have chosen that for you, Doc.”
“Heheh. Alright, I can appreciate a sense of humor.” Doc Mitchell sat up. “Anyway, I hope you don’t mind, but I had to go rooting around there in your noggin to pull all the bits of lead out.”
Right. Luci remembered, then. Some city slicker had shot her in the head. She had thought for sure she’d be dead.
“I take pride in my needlework, but you’d better tell me if I left anything out of place.” He paused, looking around as if he’d forgotten something, then looked under his chair. “Ah, here.” He grabbed some sort of small hand-computer, shaped quite like a mirror, and handed it over to her. “How’d I do?”
The little hand-computer looked to function somewhat like a mirror, but with a small camera fit in…somewhere that allowed her to see her own face. Nothing really seemed out of place, at least, from what she remembered, other than a faint scar on the right side of her forehead. Looks like stimpaks didn’t heal everything, completely, anyway.
“Sure. Looks okay to me, man.” Luci handed the hand-computer back to him.
He took it and squinted her face a moment longer before shrugging nonchalantly.
“Well, I got most of it, right, anyway. Stuff that mattered.” He stood up. “Okay. No sense in keeping you in bed anymore. Let’s see if we can get you on your feet.”
“Fuck. Okay.”
Doc Mitchell carefully took her by the shoulders and eased her up, off the bed. The lights got brighter again, her vision blurred a little as she got up, but her vision soon returned to normal when she shook her head.
“You feeling okay?”
“Yup.”
“Good. Why don’t you walk down to the end of the room? Over by that vigor tester machine over there.”
Luci looked over Doc Mitchell’s shoulder to see a large machine that could easily be one of those strength-testing stalls. Or something.
She took a cautious step, finding that her balance was better than she thought it was, and continuing over to the vigor tester machine.
“Looking good so far. Go ahead and give the vigor tester a try. We’ll learn right quick if you got back all your faculties.”

Doc Mitchell looked over the scores indicated by the flipping tiles. “Yep, that’s a pretty standard score, there. But after what you’ve been through, I’d say that’s great news.”
“Hell yeah.” Luci grinned rather passively. She was just happy she wasn’t in the ground.
Doc Mitchell took a breath and headed over to the door right of the vigor tester. “Well, we know your vitals are good. But that don’t mean them bullets didn’t leave you nuttier than a bighorn dropping.”
They stepped into a modestly furnished living room. Atop a large rug sat a similarly large sofa, and, across from one side of the sofa, an armchair.
“What do you say you take a seat on my couch and we go through a couple questions? See if your dogs are still barking.”
Luci headed over to the couch, and found a small, furry black pile on it.
“...Oh, Dante.”
Doc Mitchell stepped over to the chair, then looked at the sofa, and back at Luci. “Oh, right. I thought that little critter was yours, so I let him in. I guess he is.”
“Yeah.” Luci chuckled and picked Dante up, prompting a chirp from him. “Not sure he’s mine, though. He’s a free spirit, really.”
Doc Mitchell smiled a bit, looking more curiously at him. “Huh. He sure seems like it. Didn’t listen to a word I said, unless it was about a meal.”
“Pfft. Sounds like him. Little asshole.” Luci let Dante stretch and hop off her lap.
“Well, you sound like you’re thinking straight, but I need to make sure of it. You don’t mind?”
“No problem, Doc.”
“Good. I’m gonna say a word. I want you to say the first thing that comes to mind.”
“Shoot.”
“Dog.”
“...Feed.”
“House.”
“Shelter.”
“Night.”
“Sleep,”
“Bandit.”
“Shoot.”
“Light.”
“Beam.”
“Mother.”
“...Regret.”
Doc Mitchell paused a little longer after Luci’s last response, then took a notepad from his pocket and looked through it before settling on a page and looking back at her.
“Okay. Now I've got a few statements. I want you to tell me how much they sound like something you'd say.”
“Got it.”
“First one. ‘Conflict just ain't in my nature.’”
Luci paused for a long minute. “Agree.”
“‘I ain't given to relying on others for support.’”
“Disagree.”
“‘I'm always fixing to be the center of attention.’”
“Disagree.”
“‘I'm slow to embrace new ideas.’”
“Disagree.”
“‘I charge in to deal with my problems head-on.’”
“Hell yeah, man.” Luci grinned.
“Heheh. I’ll mark that as ‘strongly agree.’ Alright, last hurdle. Just tell me what you see.” Doc Mitchell stood up to grab a few pictures from the other end of the room, then came back and sat down before holding the first one up.
“...Broken chain. I guess.”
“Okay. Next one.”
Luci squinted, then grinned and snorted. “That looks like a pussy, man.”
“...Oh. Uh. Sure, that’s an answer.” Doc Mitchell smiled bemusedly and held up the next picture. “Last one.”
“A…light in the darkness.”
“Well, that's all she wrote.” Doc Mitchell put the pictures down and took a pencil from his pocket to write some things down. After a moment, he looked at the notepad and shrugged. “I don't have nothing to compare it to, so maybe you'd better just have a look at the results. See if it all seems right to you.”
He handed over the notepad.
Looked about right. Luci handed it back.
“Looks good, man.”
“Alright, then. Before I turn you loose, I need one more thing from you.” He grabbed a paper that he had kept underneath the pictures and handed it over to Luci, along with the pencil. “I got a form for you to fill out, so I can get a sense of your medical history. Just a formality. Ain't like I expect to find you got a family history of getting shot in the head.” He smiled.
“Pfft, well, hey, you’d be surprised, Doc.” Luci looked over the form and filled it out.
“Hehe. I imagine it’s common around…anywhere, come to think of it.”
“Exactly, man.” Luci didn’t have much to put on the form, and handed it back to Doc Mitchell fairly quickly.
“All right. I guess that about does it. I’ll show ya out. But, first.”
He put away his papers and his pictures and stepped into another room before returning with a shoulder bag, a pile of folded clothes, and a pair of boots and placing them on the sofa next to Luci.
“These are yours. Was all you had on you when you was brought in.”
Luci opened up the bag to take a look. All that was inside was a paper note, a meager amount of caps and bobby pins, Dante’s bowl, and a few stimpaks. Thankfully, it seemed that her attackers hadn’t taken a closer look at her Magneto-Laser pistol, otherwise they definitely would have taken that as well, along with the energy cells for it.
“I hope you don't mind, but I gave the note a look. I thought it might help me find a next of kin. But it was just something about a platinum chip.” He shrugged. “I’ll letcha get dressed and meet ya at the door.”
“Thanks, Doc.”
Luci realized she had just been wearing her boxers and a white undershirt, and so got dressed. She still had her usual outfit, and, most importantly, her poncho and her hat. She needed them if she was gonna be out in the heat for a while. As she pulled on her boots, Dante came back, trotting up to her and rubbing against her hand as she reached down, making that weird rumbling sound in his throat that always did when he was happy, or scared.
“Hey, boy. Sorry. You musta thought I was dead.” Luci smiled and scratched him behind the ears.
Dante chirped and scrambled up her arm to her shoulders to rub against her head and shelter under her hat.
“Alright. You already back in business, then. Right.” Luci grabbed her laser pistol and holstered it on her gun belt. “Let’s go say goodbye to Doc.”
Luci headed to the door, where the Doc was waiting, and holding something else.
“Well, if you’re heading back out there, you ought to have this.”
He held out the device he was holding, which appeared to be some sort of small computer screen mounted on some kind of specialized glove. Luci took it and looked it over.
“They call it a Pip-Boy. I grew up in one of them vaults they made before the war. We all got one.” He crossed his arms and looked at it rather nostalgically. “Ain't much use to me now, but you might want such a thing, after what you been through. I know what it's like, having something taken from you. “
“Thanks for doing all this, Doc. Really.” Luci slipped on the glove, which fit surprisingly well.
“Don't mention it. It's what I'm here for.” Doc Mitchell smiled kindly. “Anyway, you should talk to Sunny Smiles before you leave town. She can help you learn to fend for yourself in the desert. She'll likely be at the saloon. I reckon some of the other folks at the saloon might be able to help you out, too. And the metal fella, Victor, who pulled you outta your grave.” He sighed and uncrossed his arms. “Anyway, you ever get hurt out there, you come right back. I'll fix you up.” He cracked a smile again. “But try not to get killed anymore.”
“Can’t promise it, Doc, but I’ll try.” Luci grinned.
“Heheh. I’d appreciate it.”

Doc Mitchell’s house sat on a hill on the western edge of the town of Goodsprings, a small, quiet place due just south of Vegas, or so Lusi had heard, and most of the houses seemed to have pens dedicated to the Bighorners, large creatures with big horns and raw, almost skinless-looking heads, or Brahmin. She had been on her way there, actually, when that city slicker prick had shot her in the head. Maybe she ought to thank him for getting her there sooner.
It was late morning by the time Luci got out, but she was feeling pretty good, considering she had been out for a couple days. She already felt ready to get going.
As she headed down from the hill to the road leading to the saloon and the general store, she spotted a large, square robot rolling about on its single wheel, clasping and unclasping its big, metal hands. As she approached it, it turned to her, revealing a large screen on its face depicting a portrait of a friendly, cartoon cowboy.
“Howdy, pardner! Might I say, you're looking fit as a fiddle.” He had a fairly convincingly human voice, unlike most robots Luci had met, but it still sounded somewhat tinny.
“Uh, hey, man. I’m guessin’ you’re Victor.”
“You’d be guessin’ right, pardner!”
“Well, pleasure to meet ‘cha, man. I’m Luci. Thanks for fishing me outta the ground.”
“Don't mention it! I'm always ready to lend a helping hand to a stranger in need.”
“Say, how’d you find me, in the first place?”
"I was out for a stroll that night when I heard the commotion up at the old bone orchard. Saw what looked like a bunch of bad eggs so I laid low. Once they'd run off, I dug you up to see if you were still kicking. Turns out, you were, so I hauled you off to the Doc right quick.”
“Well, thanks again, man. Did you know who they were?”
“Can't say that I'm familiar with the rascals. Some of the fine folks in town might be able to help you out with that.”
Luci did remember what the guy talking looked and sounded like. She remembered his gaudy, checkered suit pretty well. It seemed counterintuitive to wear something so flashy when robbing someone. Then again, most people didn’t get back up when you shot them in the head.
“So…what kinda robot are you, anyway?” Luci squinted at some of the flashing lights and moving parts on Vic. “Never seen anything like ya.”
“I'm a Securitron, RobCo security model 2060-B. If you ever see any of my brothers, tell them Victor says howdy.”
“Hehe. Sure, no problem, man. How’d a robot like you end up here, anyway? It’s a nice place, but it’s a little, uh…outta the way.
I moseyed into town, oh, ten, fifteen years ago? Before that, I…” Victor paused and stopped moving for a moment. “Hmmm, I can't quite seem to recall. Odd. Anyway, it's a right peaceful town and I reckon it's as fine a place to settle as any.”
“Huh. You think it’s a problem with your programming or something?”
“Maybe so, pardner. I wouldn’t know - I don’t know what I’m made of too well, myself.”
“I dunno too much about programming or wiring so…I don’t I could do much about it.” Luci crossed her arms and shrugged. “Sorry, pal. Maybe if I find someone with a little more know-how, I could bring ‘em back here and have them take a look at you.”
“You’d do that for little old me? That’s right kind of you, pardner. I’d certainly appreciate it.”
“No problem, Vic.” Luci uncrossed her arms and stood up. “Well, I gotta go find someone named Sunny, and anyone that knows those ‘bad eggs.’ That the saloon over there?”
“Sure is, pardner. Good luck!”
“Thanks, Vic.”
Dante stared at Vic as Luci headed over to the saloon. She gave him a quick pat on the head.
“C’mon, Dante, it’s rude to stare. He’s a nice guy. Robot.”
Dante huffed and turned back to Luci.
The saloon had a colorful, cobbled-together sign hanging outside on the top of the building, revealing the name to be the “Pioneer Saloon.” It also seemed to be run out of a pre-war building, likely used for the same purpose. An old man, with a leathery, worn face and a thick white beard was sitting outside, having a smoke, and looking like he was about to fall asleep. He blinked his eyes open upon seeing Luci step onto the wooden porch.
“Howdy. You must be the lady Victor dug up.”
“Sure am. Luci Perez. Nice to meetcha, old-timer.” Luci grinned and stopped to lean against the wall of the building.
“I prefer Easy Pete, kid.”
“Why you called that, then?”
“Was a prospector until I decided to settle here to get away from the NCR. Now I just take it easy and help out with the Brahmin and Bighorners.
“What’re the Bighorners for?”
“Meat and hide, mostly. Can't put a pack on 'em - they just lay down until you take it off.
Can find a bunch of wild ones high up in the hills, but gotta be careful around 'em. They can put up a decent fight if cornered. “
“Right. Uh…d’you know what the deal is with Vic?”
“The machine? Harmless, no matter what Trudy says. She thinks it's hiding something, but I think it's just a broken down relic with no place to be.”
“Trudy doesn’t like him?”
Easy Pete shook his head. “Mm-mm.”
“Why not?”
“You can ask her, kid. She’s just inside.”
“Alright, then. Sorry for takin’ your time, Easy Pete.”
“No worries. Like I said, I don’t got much to do, anyhow.”
When Luci stepped into the Saloon, she was greeted by a large, gray dog just inside turning to the door and barking rather aggressively at her. Dante clung tighter to Luci’s shoulder and hissed, his black fur bristling. The woman next to the dog turned just as quickly.
“Woah, Cheyenne, stay.” She turned to Luci. “Don't worry, she won't bite unless I tell her to.”
“Hey, no problem. Dante, calm down, see, she’s done.” Luci reached up to scratch Dante’s chin and calm him down a little.
“Huh.” The woman squinted at Dante. “What is he?”
“Something called a ‘cat,’ apparently. They’re like, uh, smaller, more ornery dogs. If Dante’s anything to judge by.”
“Heh. He’s cute, at least.” The woman smiled and stood up. “Sorry, I haven’t introduced myself. Sunny Smiles. I don’t suppose you’re the lady Doc Mitchell was taking care of?”
“Sure am. Name’s Luci Perez. The Doc said you could help me get back on my feet.”
“Yeah, I guess I could help out. Make sure you haven’t forgotten anything about survivin’ out here.” She nodded to the right. “Meet me outside, behind the saloon.”
By the time Luci had joined her out there not a few minutes later, Sunny had set up some sarsaparilla bottles on the fence just out behind the saloon. She had a varmint rifle slung over her back, and another in hand, which she tossed to Luci once she was close enough. “Here. Go ahead and try those sarsaparilla bottles on for size. See if your aim’s workin’.” “Sure, alright.” Luci took aim, and easily shot off the first bottle.
“That's the right idea. I guess that bullet didn’t scramble your brains too bad.” Sunny smirked a little at her own quip.”
Luci shot down a couple more, though she missed a couple times in between. She wasn’t as used to the recoil on a regular rifle, compared to a laser one.
“Try crouching down and staying real still. It'll help your aim.”
Luci tried just that, and found that taking a moment to breathe helped, as well. Once she’d shot down the last bottle, she stood up, shaking her arms off.
“Well, that's a start. But I don't reckon you came to me to learn to fight sarsaparilla bottles. Tell you what. I gotta go chase geckos away from our water supply anyway. Darn critters are attracted to it. Why don't you come along?”
“Hell, why not.” Luci grinned and slung the rifle over her shoulder with the leather strap attached to it. “Let’s go.’
“Follow me, then. It's just down to the southeast a short ways.” Sunny headed past Luci and the Saloon, both Luci and Cheyenne hot on her heels.
They headed down the main road that led out of town, to the east a little ways, then broke off to head into the cliffs further south of the town. After a short while, they made it to a high, rocky ridge, where Sunny crouched down, slung her rifle off her shoulder, and pressed against the rock. Luci joined her, and Cheyenne darted to her side. Luci heard the loud, reptilian chattering that seem to have alerted her just past the ridge.
“Hear that up on the ridge behind me there?” She motioned with her head towards the rock face. ‘We got some geckos to clear out. Bunch of little monsters is what they are. Seems like Doc Mitchell treats more gecko bites than anything else. Let's see if we can get a little closer. If we move quietly, we can get the jump on 'em. More likely to hit something vital that way.”
“Sounds good.”
They snuck around the left of the ridge, up towards where the water pump lay and a few geckos were milling about. Looked to be about 3 of them. As they ducked behind another, smaller ridge, Luci looked at Sunny, motioned to the farthest left gecko, pointed at Sunny again, then at the right-most Gecko. Sunny nodded. Luci drew her laser pistol and nodded.
They first took out the geckos on the left and right, while Cheyenne darted forward, latched her jaws around the last gecko’s neck, and tackled it to the ground. A crunch sounded, indicating that she had been successful in her attack. She turned to Sunny and barked as she and Luci approached the water spout, ensuring that it hadn’t been damaged. Sunny smiled and rubbed Cheyenne’s head.
“Good girl, Cheyenne.” Sunny looked back at Luci. “See? You're getting the hang of it. There's two more wells that still need clearing. You want, you can come along. It'd be worth a few caps to me.”
“I’ll refuse caps when the Chihuahuan Desert freezes over. I’m in.” Luci grinned.
Sunny smirked. “We call this here place the Mojave. But, hey, same sentiment, right?”
“Pretty much.”
“Heh. Well, it shouldn’t take more than a couple minutes. Especially with the two of us.”
They continued South, and cleared another small water source before reaching a larger one, with a tall windmill just next to the main spout. Once they had cleared the geckos, Luci noticed a woman’s body, riddled with bites, a few dozen feet from the spout. She glanced over at Sunny as she approached. Her face had noticeably fallen for a moment before she took a breath and regained her composure.
“Ah, hell's bells. There's not a day passes by I don't tell people not to come here by themselves. Some people, your word just isn't good enough for them. Then this happens. Well, it's part of life out here.” She sighed and slung her rifle over her shoulder. “Best to accept it. But you did what you promised, staying out here with me. Here's my end of the deal.” Sunny reached into a pouch on the chest piece of the leather armor she was wearing and handed a pouch of caps to Luci.
“Thanks. And, er, sorry about her.” Luci looked at the woman’s body solemnly.
Sunny paused, then turned back to Luci. “So, I thought I might teach you about living off the land, and making useful things for yourself. If you were interested.”
“Heh, I think I know enough about it. Haven’t survived out here this long without good reason.”
“Right, I shoulda guessed.” Sunny cracked a bit of a smile before looking back at the dead woman. “Let’s head on back, then. I need to let someone know ‘bout her so she can…get a proper burial.”

It was an hour or two after mid-day when they got back to Goodsprings. Sunny stopped just outside the saloon and turned back to Luci.
“Hey, do me a favor, ‘fore I forget. Trudy - she's the bartender up at the Prospector, kind of the town mom - she likes to meet newcomers. She'd be cross with me if I didn't ask you to poke your head in and say hi.”
“Sure thing. See ya around, Sunny.” Luci tipped her hat.
“See ya. Hopefully we can talk when things’re a little calmer.” Sunny smiled and turned away, heading over to one of the ranch houses.
Luci watched her walk away, and turned her head to Dante, who had climbed back up on her shoulder after having kept his distance with the Geckos around.
“She’s cute, ain’t she?”
Dante chirped.
“Heheh. Yeah, probably don’t like ladies. Let’s talk to Trudy.”
There seemed to be a scene in the Saloon when Luci entered for the second time. The woman she assumed was Trudy, a middle-aged white lady with well-kept black hair, was in a confrontation with a younger, black man, dressed in an outfit of jeans, a blue, button-up shirt, and a bullet-proof vest. A customer was sitting in a booth to the left, opposite the bar, and seemingly trying to shrink himself down as much as he could.
“I'm done being nice.” The man began, taking a threatening step forward. “If you don't hand Ringo over soon, I'm going to get my friends and we're burning this town to the ground, got it?”
“We'll keep that in mind.” Trudy crossed her arms, unphased. “Now, if you're not going to buy something, get out.”
The man opened his mouth to say something, stopped, and opted to just turn away and storm out the door. Trudy sighed and rubbed her temples.
Luci stepped out of the man’s way as he left and turned to Trudy. After a moment, she looked up, noticed Luci, and stood up, her face softening to reveal a much kindlier disposition.
“Well, you've been causing quite a stir. Glad I finally got to meet you. Welcome to the Prospector Saloon.”
“Nice to meet ya. I’m guessin’ you’re Trudy.” Luci stepped forward and held out her hand. “Luci Perez.”
Trudy nodded and shook Luci’s hand with a smile, dampened by worry. “You too, Miss Perez. I’m sorry you had to see that. I wish you’d have gotten a better first impression of our little town.”
“Hey, no problem. Y’all seem like nice people. But, uh, who was that man you were arguing with?”
Trudy snorted with disgust and crossed her arms again. “He's a convict. Just without the chains. Said his name was Cobb. ‘Powder Gangers’ is what they call themselves. Plenty more like him out there.”
Luci blinked. “Powder Gangers?”
Trudy shrugged dismissively. “Chain gangs, really. The NCR brought them in from California to work on the rail lines. Problem is, it turns out that giving convicts a bunch of dynamite and blasting powder isn't the best idea. Was a big escape not too long ago. Some of 'em stuck together so they could make trouble. That's what we're dealing with now.”
“And, er, what was you arguing about?”
Trudy sighed heavily and uncrossed her arms to put her hands on her hips. “It looks like our little town got itself dragged into the middle of something we don't want anything to do with. About a week ago, this trader, Ringo, comes into town. Survivor of an attack, he says. Bad men after him, needs a place to hide. We figured he was just in shock, so we gave him a place to lie low. We didn't actually expect anyone to come after him.”
“Damn.” Luci looked at the door, almost expecting Cobb to come back in. “Where’s Ringo now?”
“He's holed up at the abandoned gas station up the hill.”
“Hidin’ out, then. Why not just put a bullet in Cobb and be done with it?”
“You mean murder him?” Trudy shook her head. “That's not our way, even if Cobb is scum. He can bluster and threaten all he wants.”
Luci found herself a little frustrated with that response. But, hell, it was their choice.
“What’re you gonna do, then?”
“Some of the others, like Sunny, will probably stand up for Ringo if he asks for help, which he hasn't. Personally, I hope he sneaks out of town one night and takes the Powder Gangers with him.”
“Fair ‘nuff.” Luci shrugged nonchalantly. “But, still, town don’t seem too big. How long has Cobb been here? And he still can’t find Ringo?”
“Cobb hasn't exactly been looking for Ringo too hard - I think he's afraid that Ringo will ambush him, which is probably true.”
“Fair ‘nuff on that, too. So, uh, I’m sure you don’t wanna talk about this no more.” Luci looked out the windows, then back at Trudy. “So…what d’ya know about that robot that dug me up?”
Trudy paused, her nose wrinkling, almost in disgust. “I know that...thing...as much as anyone else around here. It mostly keeps to itself, which is just fine by me.”
“I’m takin’ it you don’t like him?”
“It acts friendly enough, but I don't trust that whole ‘cheerful cowboy’ act. I find it all very…” She shuddered in an exaggerated manner. “…creepy.”
“Well, what’s he do around here?”
“Other than rolling around once in awhile, it doesn't do anything useful as far as I can tell. I don't know why it took an interest in you, but I'd be careful. It's never helped anyone before.”
“…Huh. Never thought’a that.”
“Well, he’s a robot. He sure as shit ain’t helping to be nice.”
“I know that much. I try not’n get too close with robots. Still…huh. I dunno why I’d be important enough to dig out of a grave.”
“I can’t hazard a guess.” Trudy sighed, and, after a pause, managed to form a smile again. “Well, all I know is, I’m happy he got you out. For whatever reason he mighta had. You seem like good people.”
Luci grinned. “Hey, thanks, Miss Trudy. Say, I been meanin’ to ask. Do y’know anything about the guys that jumped me? There was a, uh, city slicker with a checkered suit and two guys that looked a little on the rougher side.”
Trudy shrugged. “Not much, other than they're a bunch of freeloaders who expected a few rounds on the house. I was able to get them to pay up, though. Of course, one of the Great Khans did knock my radio to the floor ‘by accident,’ and it hasn't been working since.”
“Did they mention where they was going?”
“They were having some kind of argument about it, but the guy in the checkered coat kept shushing them. Sounded like they came in from the north through Quarry Junction. If that's the case I can't say I blame them for not wanting to go back.”
“Why’s that?”
“That whole area's overrun with the kind of critters that just get mad if you shoot 'em. Merchants avoid that whole stretch of I-15 like it's radioactive. Which it could be for all I know.”
“Tough shit for them, I guess. Where were they plannin’ on going, then?”
“I didn't hear exactly, but the leader was talking about the Strip. Fella wants to get there and avoid the 15, he'd have to go east. Take Highway 93 up.”
“Highway 93. Alright.” Luci looked over past the bar, where, on the counter with the selection of alcohol, the broken radio had been left up. “Say, you said that radio broke? What d’you figure’s wrong with it?”
She huffed and turned to look at the radio as Luci did. “Yeah. The outside looks okay, but I think something broke on the inside. If you wanna fix it, there'd be caps in it for you. I do like to hear what's going on in the world. And that Mr. New Vegas seems like such a gentleman.”
Luci didn’t really know who that was. Probably just some radio host, so, nothing really worth asking about.
“I don’t doubt it. Mind if I take a look now?”
“Go ahead.”
Luci stepped over, paused, and looked over at Trudy. “Sorry to bother you, but, uh, you got a screwdriver or somethin’?”
“Oh, of course. I got a toolbox in the back.”
Trudy retreated to a room next to the front door and returned with a screwdriver that she passed over the counter. Luci took it and turned back to the radio.
“Thanks. Now, let’s take a look here.”
Luci turned the radio over and unscrewed the back to take a look at the wiring. After some inspection, she found that some of the wiring had come loose, presumably when it had fallen. She took the batteries out, adjusted the wiring again, and placed the batteries back in. She turned it on to make it was working, and once she heard it come to life, she screwed the back on the radio again. Trudy, having watched over the counter, stood up and beamed when she heard it.
“Well, would you listen to that. Thank you, really.” Trudy stepped behind the counter, opened the cash register, counted out some caps, and placed them in a pouch next to the register to hand over to Luci. “Here’s some caps for the work.”
“No problem. And thank you, Miss Trudy.” Luci took the pouch and nodded.
Trudy paused. “Say, um. I didn’t wanna be rude, but, er…what’s that…critter on your shoulder, there?”
Dante chirped. Luci chuckled and rubbed his head.
“Oh, this is Dante. He’s somethin’ called a cat. Like…a little dog. More skittish, little more of an asshole, but I love ‘im.”
“Heh.” Trudy smirked. “Well, he’s cute. Does he mind if…?”
“Sure. Just be slow.”
Trudy held her hand out to Dante, who sniffed her tentatively, then rubbed his little snout against her hand. Trudy chuckled and drew her hand back after a moment.
“He’s a sweet little guy. Even if he’s a little…odd. You never found anything else like him?”
“Not so far. And he’s been with me for a good while.”
“Poor little thing. I couldn’t imagine bein’ the last person in the world.”
“Well…he’s got me. I know that much. And I got him.”
“And now both of you got us, long as you don’t get up to no good around here.”
“Thanks, Miss Trudy.”
“So, are you gonna go follow those men?”
“…Not yet, I don’t think.”
Trudy nodded knowingly. “Right, I shoulda known. I don’t mean to rush you. You must not be feelin’ all good just yet. You can stay as long as you need to, ‘till you get back on your feet. I bet Sunny would be happy to let you stay for good, really, if you can help her take care of any critters come wandering into town.”
“I don’t doubt it, Miss Trudy. I’ll…I’ll think about it.”
“Of course. Just let us know whatever you decide on.”

The gas station lay atop a hill higher than the one Doc Mitchell’s house lay on, and just further west, up a steep road. Luci headed up, with some effort, and headed to the front door of the gas station. She decided to leave her pistol holstered, so as to not spook Ringo, and made sure Dante on the ground and able to run before slowly opening the door.
She was immediately greeted by a young white man with curly brown hair and wide, nervous eyes, pointing a 9mm pistol at her. She slowly brought her hands up, keeping her eyes on his trigger finger.

“That's close enough. Who are you, and what do you want with me?”
“If you’re gonna shoot, you best not miss, amigo.” Luci turned her eyes to Ringo’s.
He held her gaze for a moment before wavering and looking at the floor, lowering his gun. “S-Sorry about the gun. You just caught me off guard, that's all.” He took a deep breath and put away his pistol, looking back at Luci, and looking a little less scared. “We got off to a bad start. What say we start over with a friendly game of Caravan? You know how to play?”
“I don’t wanna be rude, man, but I don’t think a game’s the biggest of your concerns right now. There’s a man named Cobb out there looking for you, and he don’t seem to have the best intentions.”
Ringo scoffed, turning his eyes back to the ground. “Yeah. He doesn't look very tough, though. I hear he's afraid I'll shoot him down from one of the windows when I see him, and he's right. I'll have a much bigger problem once his friends show up. There's no way I could handle all of them in a gunfight.”
“Well, what’re you gonna do?”
“I'm going to lay low for as long as I can, assuming the town doesn't throw me to the wolves. I've got no chance against the gang on my own.”
“Sounds like you need some help. I wouldn’t be opposed to it.”
Ringo shook his head. “We'd just end up sharing the same grave if it's just the two of us.” He paused, then looked back at Luci. “Now, if some of the other people in town were also on board...”
“Right. I’ll go ask around and see if anyone’s willing to help.”
“Start with Sunny Smiles. She's been friendlier than most around here.”
“I noticed.”
“Y-Oh, wait, I’m sorry, I haven’t introduced myself. I’m Ringo. I would say nice to meet you, but these aren’t the best circumstances, are they?” He held out his hand.
Luci shook it. “Luci Perez. And, yeah, they sure ain’t. How’d you get wrapped up in this mess anyhow?”
Ringo drew his hand back politely. “My caravan was on the return trip from California and heading back up to the company branch in New Vegas when we got jumped. Not even a ‘drop your weapons and hands up’ before the bullets started flying. We put up a good fight, but there was too many of them. I took a few of the bandits down before I ran, so I figure their friends are out for revenge.”
“Damn. Tough shit, man. I’m sorry.”
“It’s…it’s okay. I mean, it isn’t. But you don’t have to apologize.” He sighed. “I just hope they don’t get me, too.”
“’Course not.” Luci turned to the door. “I’ll see if Sunny wants to help out.”
“Thanks again.”
Sunny had left the ranch house she seemingly had been heading towards last Luci saw her when they crossed each other again. Sunny gave her a small wave and a smile as she approached.
“Howdy. Did you need anything else?”
“I did, actually. I just talked to Ringo, and I offered to help him take down those ‘Powder Gangers.’ I wanted to know if you’d be on board.”
“Say no more. I’m in.” Sunny replied promptly.
“Oh. Heh, that was easy.”
“Well, sure. Joe Cobb talks about leaving us alone if we hand over Ringo, but I know his type. He and his friends will come after the town eventually. However, between you, me, and Ringo, we aren't exactly a force to be reckoned with.” She paused to think a moment before continuing. “A lot of people around here look up to Trudy. If you could convince Trudy to join us, some of the folks in town might decide to help out as well. I know Easy Pete's got a stock of dynamite somewhere, and Chet just got a shipment of leather armor we could borrow. Talk to them as well. Finally, there's a good chance we'll all end up with extra holes in us, so if Doc Mitchell could cough up some extra stimpaks, that'd be great.”
“Alright. Sounds like a plan.”
“Good. I’ll give Trudy my word on this, but she might need more convincin’. She likes me, but that ain’t enough to make her risk herself and everyone else around here. She needs to know that we’ve got a good plan. The Doc’ll probably be willing to help anyway.”
“And how ‘bout Pete and Chet?”
“Well, Easy Pete's pretty protective of his dynamite. You'd have to convince him you know a thing or two about explosives before he handed it over.”
“Fair enough. That shouldn’t be too hard. And Chet? How d’ya figure he’d give us the armor?”
Sunny snorted, half in bitter amusement, and half in disgust. “I don't think ‘give’ is in Chet's vocabulary. Even with the town at stake, he'd still make you barter with him.”
“Sounds like an asshole.”
“I don’t like to talk about the folk here, but…well, Chet’s awful protective of his merchandise.’
“Well, hopefully he can afford to be a little less protective of it.” Luci sighed. “Alright. I got my work cut out for me. I’ll talk to the Doc, and maybe you can have a word with Trudy?”
“Sure. Just come right over when you can.”
“Got it.”
Sunny headed to the Saloon, and Luci hoofed it up the hill to Doc Mitchell’s house. She didn’t need to wait too long when she knocked on his door before he opened up. He looked a bit puzzled, but kindly nonetheless.
“Welcome back. I had hoped you wouldn't need to come see me again so soon. What can I do for you?”
“It’s not quite about what you can do for me, Doc. It looks like some bandits are fixing to shoot up Goodsprings, and Sunny wanted me to find all the help we can get. Anything you can do?”
Doc Mitchell sighed. “Seems like wherever I go it's always the same. Folks just never leave each other alone. I'm not much good in a fight, with my bum leg. And my supplies are scarce. But I'll give you what I can spare. Give me a minute.”
Doc Mitchell stepped back into his house, leaving the door open. Luci stepped in after him and waited by the door for a moment before the Doc returned with a small medical box.
“Here. If someone’s in real bad condition after the fight, you can give ‘em a stimpak and that’ll give you enough to get them over here. If you got any left, you can keep ‘em for yourself.”
“Thanks, Doc. For everything.”
“Hey, no problem. I told you already, it’s my job.” The Doc smiled and handed over the medical kit.

The general store was a small, modest place, like the rest of Goodsprings, albeit a hell of a lot more cluttered. A wiry Hispanic man with curly, dark hair and an unkempt beard, marked by some flecks of gray, was tending the counter at the far end of the store, and quickly stood up from where he was putting away some tools in the back.
“Oh, hey. You must be the one Doc Mitchell was patching up. The way I heard it, I didn't think you'd be walking out of that office.”
“Well, here I am.” Luci chuckled and headed up to the counter.
Chet opened his mouth to say something, then noticed Dante pacing about on the floor and backed up against the far wall.
“Woah, woah, woah, what the hell is that?”
“That’s Dante.”
“What is he?”
“Something called a cat.”
“Well, is he going to turn my store upside down? There’s a good reason I don’t let dogs in here.”
“And he ain’t a dog, is he?’
“No, but the principle still stands.”
Luci sighed. “He’s-he’s not gonna destroy anything. He just likes looking around.”
“...Alright. If he breaks anything, I’m charging you.”
“I get it.” Luci figured she’d circle around to the gunfight last. “So…you know anything about those guys that shot me?”
Chet stood up, still eyeing Dante nervously. “The leader was a New Vegas-type, typical city boy. He had a bunch of Great Khans with him, probably hired guns. The Great Khans normally stay in their own territory way up northwest, on account of them being enemies with the NCR.”
“Right, Miss Trudy mentioned ‘em too. Who’re the Great Khans?”
Chet’s voice picked up a bit, “They're tough sons of bitches, mean but not crazy - they'll leave you alone unless you've got something they want. The Great Khans deal in illegal chems. There's a good chance that most chems you come across were made by Great Khans.”
“Ah. So they’re the distributors around here, then.” Luci leaned forward on the counter. “So, what do you know about New Vegas? Ever been?”
“Twice. Both times, I drank a lot of liquor and lost most of my caps at the card tables.” He paused, staring at the far wall. “In that order, now that I think about it.” He blinked and shook his head. “Right, speaking of, if you ever get to New Vegas, be sure to visit Gomorrah. It's the best casino in the city. You won't regret it. And, a word of advice - behave. Between the NCR military police and Mr. House's robots, you don't want to be causing trouble on the Strip.”
“Who the hell’s Mr. House?”
Chet shrugged. “I'm afraid I don't know much myself. Mr. House has got his own casino, the Lucky 38, but nobody goes in or out except his robots. The other casinos follow Mr. House's rules, so I guess that makes him the leader of New Vegas. As far as I know, nobody's ever laid eyes on the guy. I think that robot who pulled you out of the dirt belongs to Mr. House. If Mr. House is looking after you, that's gotta be a good thing, right?”
“...Huh. I guess so.” Luci furrowed her brow. Why the hell would a guy who she’s never even heard of send a robot to dig her out of a grave?
“...You okay?”
“Yeah, I’m fine. Other than the bullet.” Luci chuckled. “Right, so, what d’ya know about this business with the Powder Gangers?”
“If Ringo doesn't head out on his own, I think we should hand him over. The town shouldn't get itself mixed into the problem.” Chet stopped, then quickly continued, “Don't mistake that for coward talk, though. We're a town of survivors, and we'll fight tooth and nail if pushed, but we don't go looking for trouble.”
“Huh. Yeah, so, about that. Looks like they’re gonna hit this place, one way or another, man. So we’re gonna need supplies to take ‘em on.”
Chet stood up. “Now just hold on. I never voted to take on the Powder Gangers. That's a thousand cap investment you're talking about.”
Luci paused, still leaning on the counter, and sighed. “You’re being real difficult, man.”
“No shit.”
“Listen, I think I’m a nice lady, Chet. I like to think so, anyway. But I’m also a realist. And the realist in me says that if the Powder Gangers take over, they might not be too inclined to leave your place alone. That realist also says that if you keep bein’ difficult, I might be inclined to be difficult myself.” She slammed her laser pistol on the counter, prompting a jump from Chet. “You get me, man?”
“I-I don’t think you’re gonna do that.”
“I’ve gotten rid of a lot of fucking people for a lot fuckin’ less, Chet.” She suddenly picked up the pistol and fired it off directly next to his knee. He yelped and jumped away from the hole it had burned into the wall.
“Fucking hell! All right! I can give you some of my extra leather armor and spare ammo. I-It’s in the back. Just don't hurt anybody if you don't have to, all right?” He stepped out from behind the counter and gestured to the door leading to the small room at the back of the store.
Luci holstered the pistol and grinned. “Thanks, Chet, you’re a doll.”
“Fuck you.”

Sunny was just outside the Saloon when Luci stepped out of the general store, and hurried over when she noticed she was carrying the boxes of armor and ammunition.
“Hey, you did it! I can’t believe Chet was actually willing to give us all this.” She looked with admiration at the boxes of supplies as Luci set them down.
“Yeah, he was actually real nice about it.”
“Really?”
“Hehe, yep. Just handed it over for free. Be sure to thank him when this is all over.”
“Heh. If he’s turned himself around this much, I just might.” Sunny opened the top box and looked pleasantly surprised that the supplies were actually there. “Great. You should take one of these for yourself when you have the time, and I’ll bring some armor up to Ringo. In the meantime, why don’t you go talk to Easy Pete and Miss Trudy.”
“I’ll get to it.”
Sunny grabbed some armor from the box and headed over to the gas station. Luci turned and watched her leave for a bit.
“Hot damn. I’d walk into a Deathclaw nest if she asked me.”
Dante meowed.
“Pfft. Yeah, I sound like an idiot.” Luci chuckled and scratched Dante’s chin as she headed over to the saloon.
It was early afternoon by that point, judging from the time shown on the Pip-boy and the warm, orange light that washed over the town and the surrounding desert, highlighting every tumbleweed and scant clump of weeds.
Easy Pete was still sitting outside the saloon, this time with a cigarette and a bottle of whiskey at his side. He looked quite peaceful, but something in his eyes betrayed a faint tenseness. He looked up as Luci approached and took the cigarette out of his mouth, blowing out a thick puff of smoke.
“Howdy. What can Easy Pete do for you?”
“Howdy yourself, Pete. Listen, it seems like the Powder Gangers are looking to try and shoot their way in here to get to Ringo. We’re gonna need some help to fight ‘em off, and I figured I’d ask if you could spare some dynamite.”
Easy Pete sighed heavily and shook his head. “Too dangerous. Gonna kill all yourselves if I let you touch it. Better to leave it buried - safer that way.”
“Pete, I can tell you with my hand on my heart, I’ve been using dynamite since I learned to read. Dynamite’s practically a childhood friend. And I know better than anyone how careful you gotta be with it.”
“Uh huh.” Easy Pete took a drag of his cigarette, paused, then slowly nodded. “Guess you know what you're doing. I'll go dig it up and get it ready. You'll have it by the time the fighting starts.”
“Thanks, Pete.”
“Mmhm.”
Luci headed into the Saloon, where most of the residents of Goodsprings had congregated for an evening drink. Luci waited until Trudy was done slinging drinks had returned to her spot behind the counter, listening to the radio. She smiled and turned to Luci as she stepped up to the bar.
“Hey, Miss Trudy.”
“Hello to you, Miss Perez. You come back for a drink?”
“You got some Whisky?”
“Sure. How’s 5 caps sound for a shot?”
“Sounds good. Thanks, Miss Trudy.”
Trudy poured out the whiskey for Luci and placed it on the counter. Luci sat at the bar and placed the caps on the counter next to the shot glass, which Trudy graciously took and put away in the cash register.
“Thank you kindly.”
Luci downed the shot, shaking her head and blinking through the burning sensation going down her throat.
“Goddamn. That’s good.” Luci turned her shot glass upside down. “So. I was thinkin’. You should help me take down the powder gangers. Bullets, explosions, lots of fun. Y’know?”
Trudy paused for a long moment, then chuckled and put her hands on her hands on her hips, looking unsure of whether she should scold Luci or laugh. Eventually she decided on somewhere in between.
“I was planning on sitting this one out, but for some reason I can't help but like you.” She smirked in amusement and nodded. “I'm with you. Let me have a word with a few other folks and I'll see if I can't round up some more members for this militia you're creating. While everyone does own a gun, we could stand to be a little better equipped. The general store probably has what we need in stock.”
“Got that taken care of. Sunny’s got the supplies in boxes just outside Chet’s.”
“Huh. You’re better prepared than I thought. I guess I made the right call.” She chuckled. “Alright, then. I’ll let everyone know.”
‘Thanks again, Miss Trudy.” Luci stood up. “So, besides all that, I been meaning to ask. Anything interesting goin’ on in the Mojave? I ain’t been here before…all this, I don’t believe.”
“There's always something interesting going on, but the biggest news has to be the coming dustup between the NCR and the Legion over the Dam.”
“…I can’t say I’m familiar with, uh, any of that. Who’re the NCR?”
“The New California Republic's got the most power in Nevada. Money, troops, you name it. They do what they can to keep things safe in the region, but if you ask me, they're trying to do too much. They're spread too thin.”
Luci wasn’t familiar with any group as organized as how the NCR appeared to be. Sounded like that brought its own slew of issues.
“And the Legion?”
Trudy screwed her face up in disgust, quite like when she had been talking about Victor. “Slavers, killers, and all other kinds of trouble. They dress up like Roman soldiers, so there's no mistaking it when you see them. The rumor is that the Legion is far larger than the NCR lets on, and that it's been due to luck that the Legion hasn't overrun the territory.”
“Uh-huh. What’s a Roman?”
“…Y’know, like…old-looking armor with football helmets. They’re usually all dressed up in red.”
“Oh. So what do they want with a dam?”
“It’s the Dam. The Hoover Dam. Biggest one you’ll ever see, or hear of, at least. I'm pretty sure the NCR wants to hold onto the Dam because it's one of the few places around that can make electricity. The Legion are a bunch of savages, though. No idea why they'd want the Dam. Probably plan on destroying it or something.”
“Probably to stop the NCR from getting’ it.”
“That’s my best guess.”
“Hm. Maybe I’ll go check out that Dam once I get that package back.”
“Say, what was that package, anyhow?”
“Oh. Uh…” Luci sifted through her satchel for a moment before fishing out the delivery order from the Mojave Express. “A…Platinum Chip?”
“A chip?”
“A poker chip. Says right here. An ‘oversized’ platinum poker chip.”
“What the hell would anyone want with that?”
“Whoever I’m delivering it to. Says they want me to meet their ‘agent’ at the northern gate to the Strip and hand it over there.”
“D’you think those men stole it to deliver themselves, collect the caps?”
“…Maybe. But I were them, I would’ve jumped me a lot closer to Vegas, so I wouldn’t have to make such a long trek back. But they might not have known about the trouble on the northern highway. They did come from there when it was clear, I’m assuming. So…might not have wanted to do it so close to an NCR camp. McCarran’s up that way, right?”
“Sure is.”
“Well, same thing’s gonna happen whether he delivers that package or not.”
“Which is?”
“He’s gettin’ a hole burned through his head. No chance of it just gettin’ lodged in his brain, neither.” Luci grinned.
“…You sure about that?”
“Real sure. That’s about what happened to everyone’s that tried to jump me, no reason to treat him special.”
Trudy shrugged. “Hell, if he tried to kill you, I guess I don’t have nothing to say against it. Just watch yourself. Those Great Khans looked pretty tough, but that man…something about him tells that even if he ain’t much in a fight, he’ll find some way to get rid of you for good if he finds out you’re still kickin’.”
“Yeah. I got that feelin’ too.”
“D’you remember it?”
“What?”
“When they shot you.”

“An 18-karat run of bad luck.”

“…Nah. Just the asshole’s face.”
Luci wasn’t sure why she lied.
“…Do you remember much else? ‘Bout yourself? I’m sure if Doc Mitchell let you out here so soon, he thinks you’re okay, but…”
“There’s bits and pieces missin’. But nothing I’d miss a whole lot, I don’t think.”
“I sure hope not.”
“But, thanks for worryin’, Miss Trudy.” Luci stood up from the bar stool. “I’ll see ya tomorrow for the fireworks.”
“Heheh. Sure, see ya then.”
Luci stepped out of the saloon to find it was already twilight. A cool breeze had washed over the desert, providing relief from the heat left over from the day before and signaling the beginning of the freezing night. Easy Pete had seemingly gone home, but Sunny was now by the boxes of supplies, sitting down and smoking as she looked out over the town, Cheyenne lying on the ground next to her. She smiled and waved as Luci approached.
“Howdy. How’d it go with Trudy and Pete?”
“Trudy’s on board, and Pete said he’d lend me some dynamite.”
“Great. I knew they’d come around.” Sunny took a deep breath. “I don’t think they’ll come tonight. I’ll bet they come around tomorrow. Probably around the same time Cobb went to talk to Trudy. Seems like they’re gonna put off a shoot-out until they’ve given us at least a day.”
“I hope you’re right.” Luci stepped over next to Sunny. “You gotta smoke?”
“Sure.” Sunny shook a single cigarette out of her pack and handed it to Luci.
“Thanks.” Luci looked in her satchel. “Shit. Gotta light?”
Sunny snickered. “Yeah, I got one.” She handed over a small, silver lighter.
Luci lit her cigarette and took a drag as she handed it back to Sunny. “Thanks.”
“Say, have you gotten anything to eat today?”
“…Uh, nah.”
“Seriously?”
“I was so busy, I just forgot.” Luci chuckled. “’Sides, not like those guys left any food in my satchel.”
Dante meowed plaintively.
“Sounds like he’s hungry, too.” Sunny looked at Luci and Dante. “Say, listen, how ‘bout I get you something from my place?”
“Seriously?”
“Sure, why not? What’s Dante eat?”
“He only likes meat. Won’t eat anything else.”
“Alright.” Sunny stood up. “You’ll probably need somewhere to sleep ‘round here, too.” She pointed to the far south end of the town, where a small shack sat just a little out, farther away from the other houses, next to an old schoolyard. “That’s Victor’s shack, but I don’t think he ever uses it. He just sits outside at night. So, I don’t think he’d mind you stayin’ in there.”
“Thanks, man. Seriously.”
Sunny smiled sheepishly. “Nah, it’s nothing. I do enough work around here that I’m not terribly wantin’ for food and water. It’s no problem. Cheyenne, stay. I’ll be right back.”
Sunny came back not long after with two lunchboxes, a sack, and a bottle of water. Cheyenne sniffed the air as she approached and immediately started nosing at the sack.
“Cheyenne, git. Come on.” Sunny gently pushed Cheyenne away with her boot and sat back on one of the boxes. “There’s a bighorner steak in there. And I got half of one for Dante. I figured it’d be good.”
“Yeah, he’s a little guy. Don’t eat too much.”
They ate their dinner outside the General Store, watching the skies darken and feeling the desert get colder. Once they were done eating, she drank a bit of water and poured some in Dante’s bowl for him to get a drink, too.
“How long’s he been with you?” Sunny questioned, looking curiously at Dante as he lapped up his water.
“Hell, it’s been…8 years. Since he was just a baby.”
“How’d you even find him? I’ve never seen anything like him.”
Luci paused to think about it. “Hmm…it was when…I was staying in this Pueblo around western Texas. It was pretty quiet, and the buildings were sturdy enough, so I stayed for a few weeks. I saw Dante skulking around one of the little townhouses, but he was too scared to get close to me for a good few days. I had to lure him out with gecko meat, and even then, it took him a while to get used to me enough to let me pet him. After that, he started followin’ me around, and he’s been with me ever since. He’s real helpful in letting me know if anyone tries to jump me at night and keeps any little critters from getting to my supplies.”
Sunny gave him a pat on the back. “He’s real interesting. Sounds an awful lot like me and Cheyenne.”
“Yeah?”
“Mmhm. Cheyenne’s, well…she’s been my best friend ever since we met.”
“She’s a good dog. Sometimes I have to hide Dante in my bag if dogs get too riled up around him, but Cheyenne ain’t tried anything.”
“Hah, yeah, I get that a lot. Sometimes she don’t listen if she thinks something’s gonna hurt me, though.” Sunny scratched Cheyenne behind the ears, prompting her to beat one of her hind legs against the ground.
“Hey, so, I meant to ask ya. Is there any more work to be done ‘round here? If I’m gonna head out later, I’ll need all the caps I can get.”
Sunny shook her head. “Not in Goodsprings, no. But if you're up for a little scavenging, there's always the schoolhouse. Most of what's in there is junk, but there's this old safe that even Easy Pete wasn't able to crack with dynamite. If you want to take a shot at it…” She reached in her pocket and handed over a few bobby pins, and a folded-up magazine, “take these.”
Luci took them and looked at the magazine. It appeared to be on locksmithing.
“Huh. Thanks. I’ll take a crack at it.” Luci grinned.
“No problem.” Sunny looked back up at the sky and sighed. “Right, well. It’s gettin’ late. We should probably be getting to bed.”
“Yeah, you’re right.” Luci let Dante finish his water before picking up his bowl, shaking it off, and packing it up. “I’ll grab this armor and get dressed tomorrow.”
“Alright. I’ll bring these boxes to Trudy’s.” Sunny stood up and let Luci take a set of leather armor. “There’s some energy cells in the other one, too.”
“Really?” Luci looked in the other box and grabbed the energy cells inside. “Thanks. Again, heh.”
Sunny picked up the boxes. “Like I said, no problem. I’ll see ya tomorrow.”
“See ya. And g’night, Sunny.”
Dante climbed up on Luci’s shoulder as she headed over to Victor’s shack. Like Sunny said, he was waiting just outside, idling until he saw Luci.
“Hey there, friend.”
“Hey, Vic. D’you mind if I stay in this here shack?”
“Well, of course, pardner! I don’t got no use for it, myself.” Vic chortled. Or, his microphone made that sound, anyhow.
“Say, Vic, would you be any good in a gunfight?”
“Trouble with rustlers? Count me in, pardner. Those varmints will be running home with their tails between their legs soon enough.”
“Hey, thanks, man.” Luci grinned and pat him on the side of his…screen.
“No problem, pardner. Anything to help the fine folk here.”
Luci headed into the shack. It was cramped and cluttered, but it had a bedframe with a mattress, which was good enough for her. She put away her armor and made a cursory search of the shack. There wasn’t much in there besides a broken Hamm Radio, some ammo boxes, and some scrap metal. She grabbed some energy cells she found in one of the boxes, and some scrap metal in case she needed it for any repairs. Before going to bed, however, she decided to take a look at that schoolhouse.

“Good boy, Dante!”
Dante trotted up to Luci and accepted some scratches under the chin as reward for his killing some of those pesky mantises around the schoolyard.
They headed into the school itself to find it was quite small – all just one, big room, though with plenty of old desks piled in the middle of the building and some lockers lining the walls. After taking care of the rest of the mantises inside, who proved to be rather frail, Luci turned her attention to the safe, against the wall opposite the door. She kneeled down in front of it and decided to flip through the locksmithing magazine. There wasn’t much in there that she didn’t already know, but it did have some useful tidbits in there. She put it away, tried her hand at the safe, and opened it with relative ease. At least that bullet hadn’t scrambled her memory in regard to her lockpicking ability.
She found some pre-war money, a couple caps, a few bobby pins, and, most notably, a stealth boy. Lying around the school itself, she founds a few helpful magazines, some more than others. Other than that, there wasn’t much to be found.
When she stepped out of the schoolhouse, she considered going to bed, but she wanted to make a last stop somewhere.

The night was cold, but her poncho kept her warm as it kept her cool during the day. She liked that poncho quite a lot. It was torn and the edges were frayed, but she loved it. She couldn’t quite…no, she remembered why. But remembering why hurt, so she chose to ignore it, like most everything else.
The graveyard looked just like it had the other night, mostly dark but awash with moonlight that framed each solemn grave in a white light. Including Luci’s.
After scaring away some stray bloatflies, she stepped over to the grave. Empty. Somehow, just looking at it made her stomach drop.
Maybe she was dead. Maybe this was purgatory – her grandpa always said that if someone wasn’t good but not bad, they’d end up there until they proved themselves worthy of heaven or hell.
She didn’t really know what heaven or hell was like, though, so maybe it could be either.
Alternatively, she could be a ghost, or zombie. She didn’t appear to be rotting away.
She could believe she was a ghost. That was a sort of purgatory, and she certainly deserved purgatory. She wasn’t a real ghost, but, hell, she was closest thing to it a person could be.
Yeah, a ghost. She could buy that. She instinctively reached for a pack of cigarettes that wasn’t in her pocket anymore. It made her remember something else.
He had a cigarette.
Luci looked at the side of her grave, where He had been smoking. There was something here. She wouldn’t have noticed it if it hadn’t been lit up by the moonlight.
A cigarette butt – long enough to pick up at the end. It had a tiny, ink pattern on the white part that was left. It wasn’t like any other cigarette she’d ever seen. It had to be his.
She picked up a couple more of the cigarette butts and placed it in a pocket on the front of her satchel.
If he loved them so much, he could have plenty of them when he was dead.

Chapter Text

Luci woke relatively early the next day, and looked at her pip-boy to find it was around 8:30. Dante was sleeping on her stomach, as he always did, and looked quite upset to be woken so soon, glaring at her as he stretched, then jumped off the bed. She chuckled and picked up her poncho, having used it for a blanket.
“Heheh. Sorry, Dante, but I think we’ve gotten enough sleep. Let’s get going.”
Once she’d put on her new leather armor, her poncho, and her hat, Dante climbed up onto her shoulder and she headed out.
Victor was gone – it seemed he’d begun his rounds around town before Luci had gotten up.
She figured she’d go find Sunny and make sure everyone was prepared for the gunfight.
Sunny was by the saloon, directing some residents of the town inside. She waved at Luci when she saw her, and Cheyenne, having laid down next to Sunny, lifted her head and wagged her tail.
“Hey, you’re up. I’m lettin’ everyone know where the armor and ammo is. We’ll be ready when Cobb and his boys turn up.”
“Good. I don’t want anyone getting hurt too bad on my account, and I’m sure Ringo feels the same.”
“Yeah. He seems like a nice enough guy. Hopefully we can just wrap this all up soon.” Sunny looked past Luci, and Luci turned around to see she was watching Easy Pete slowly approach from down the road, holding a small crate.
“Howdy.” He nodded curtly.
“Howdy, Pete. That the dynamite?” Luci peered at the crate.
“Sure is. You’re sure you know how to use it?”
“Sure as the day is long. Mind if I have a look?”
Easy Pete nodded and placed the crate down on the porch of the saloon to open it up and hand a stick of dynamite to Luci. It looked to be in surprisingly good condition, for having been buried.
“Alright, this looks good. Thank you, Pete.”
“Mmhm.”
“Mind if I run an idea by you?”
“Sure.”

After she had talked things over with Sunny and Easy Pete, Luci headed up to the gas station once more to let Ringo know everything. He was still waiting in the gas station, and nervously peeked out from behind the counter to the right of the front door when Luci entered. He sighed in relief when he saw her and stood up.
“Hey. So, Sunny came up to give me some armor and ammunition, and she said you were working on convincing everyone else to help. Did you have any luck?”
“Sure did.”
“Well, I guess that means we're ready to go. Unless you think there's something else you can do?”
“Nah, we’re good. Let’s do this.”
Sunny stepped in just as they finished speaking, rifle in hand. “Time to look alive. The Powder Gangers are here to play.”
“How many?”
“At least six, Joe Cobb included. They look pretty mean.”
“Alright.” Luci turned to Ringo. “Time to take out the trash, man.”
“Y-Yeah. Alright.”

It was high noon when they took their places behind the western wall of the saloon, watching the road going out east, where the Powder Gangers were approaching from. Ringo and Sunny were with Luci by the saloon, while Trudy and the other residents had taken cover behind the general store. The town had gone deadly quiet. The only sound was that of the weak wind blowing across the sands, and the faint sound of tumbleweeds bumping into buildings and rolling over the pavement. Luci strained her ears, waiting for the sound of the Powder Ganger’s footsteps. Eventually, she heard it.
They were coming up the eastern road, as Trudy and Sunny had guessed. Luci wasn’t surprised – they were just some petty thugs, most of them not capable of thinking far enough ahead to try a more round-about, stealthy approach into town. They looked a little cautious upon seeing how quiet the town was, but they seemed to quickly assume that the residents had run or hid and continued down the road.
Luci glanced at Sunny, who shifted past Luci and readied her rifle. Luci grabbed her dynamite and the lighter Sunny had lent her, and made sure Ringo had his. Luci turned to Sunny and nodded. Sunny returned the nod and turned back to the road, aiming at the dynamite laid on the road and hidden under debris. She squeezed the trigger.
The Powder Gangers screamed as the first stick of dynamite went off, taking out two of them, and triggered the other two sticks laid around the sides of the road, taking out another and blowing the other four backwards. Trudy and the other residents opened fire from behind the general store. The Powder Gangers returned fire, but quickly faltered upon seeing the dynamite thrown by Ringo and Luci, which blew away another one of them. Sunny fired another shot, catching another Powder Ganger on the arm and shocking him into dropping his gun. One of Trudy’s friends landed another shot on his chest, sending him down. They were scared pretty quickly into cover behind the Goodsprings sign and the boxes nearby. Luci easily fired her laser pistol right through the thin wood on the sign, riddling the man behind it with enough holes to bleed him through. The last two, Joe Cobb and another man, started booking it.
“Alright!” Sunny whooped.
“One second.” Luci stepped out from behind the boxes by the saloon, aimed, and fired thrice, hitting Cobb in his legs with the latter two shots and sending him down with a yelp. She stepped over, keeping the pistol aimed at him when he reached for his gun.
“Fuck you! J-Just let me go! It’s over!” He barked, propping himself up on his arms and pulling himself away.
“Just a minute, Cobb.” She kicked his pistol away and turned to Ringo, who had run after her.
“I-Is that him?”
“Yeah. It is. I’ll give you the honor.”
“What? I thought he was running!” Ringo looked between Luci and Cobb.
“Just let me fuckin’ go!”
“Cobb, please. Ringo, c’mon.”
“Well-“ Ringo stopped himself, glancing at Cobb again.
“Please!” Cobb was starting to sound more desperate.
“Suit yourself.” Luci pulled the trigger, and Cobb stopped whining. Ringo flinched.
“Fuck.”
“You’re welcome. Hopefully the last guy don’t come back to get ya.” Luci picked up the 9mm pistol Cobb had dropped and tossed it to Ringo. “Might as well take it. You could use the parts, bullets, whatever.”
“Thanks. Well, either way, I owe you a huge favor for this. Here - these are technically Crimson Caravan funds, but I know they'll understand once I explain things.” He reached into his shirt pocket and handed over a pouch of caps.
“You’re welcome, man.”
“I'll stick around for a bit longer, but I'll be gone in a few days. If you ever visit New Vegas, look me up at the Crimson Caravan camp.”
“No problem. And, hey, Ringo. For next time, if some gang jumps you – you don’t let ‘em run, or they round up their buddies.” She gestured to the direction in which the last Powder Ganger had run. “That asshole might grab some others and try to jump you again. Get goin’ fast, and next time, don’t hesitate.”
“…Yeah. I’ll…I’ll keep that in mind. Thanks again.”
“Mmhm.”
Sunny followed them and stopped upon seeing Cobb’s body. “Hey, you got ‘im.”
“Sure did.”
“That'll teach the Powder Gangs to avoid Goodsprings in the future.” She paused. “I’m hoping you took him down for a good reason and not...for fun.”
“If we let him go, he’d just go after Ringo again. Not havin’ fun. Just being practical.”
“…Yeah. You’re right.” Sunny nodded. “We’ll have to move these bodies outta town or they’ll attract the coyotes.”
“I’ll help. It’s my fault they were here.” Ringo volunteered quietly.
“Alright. Thanks, Ringo.”
“Hey. So, I suppose it’s over now?” Trudy questioned, heading to them with her shotgun still in hand.
“Yep. Goodsprings’ll be safe for a while longer.” Luci replied enthusiastically.
“Thank goodness that’s over, then. Now, let’s get these damn bodies outta here.”

Luci helped them move the bodies of the Powder Gangers out to the brush north of town. They figured it wasn’t worth burying them in the graveyard, and the coyotes would take care of them while staying away from town. Luci also made sure to grab what she could from their bodies, including a 9mm gun, some bullets for it, and some other useful things – most notably, some water, NCR paper money, which just interested her, mostly, and some dynamite. She also stripped Cobb of his bullet-proof vest labeled “NCRCF,” a light blue button-up shirt, a blue jacket also labeled like the vest, and pinstriped gray pants. She figured she could use the disguise later, and the vest now. She kept the leather padding on her knees, the metal pauldrons, and the bracer on her left arm but decided to replace the leather chest piece with the bullet-proof vest.
Once she’d gotten her armor back in place and all the bodies had been moved, Sunny approached her.
“Hey. How are you feelin’?”
“I’m okay, thanks. Why, what’s up?”
“C’mon.”
“…Sure.”
Sunny led her over to one of the ranch houses. Judging from the fact that Cheyenne was waiting on the stoop, it was likely her house. On the steps was a small sack which Sunny picked up and held out to Luci.
“Here.”
“What is it?” Luci took it.
“Some supplies. Some bottles of water, canned food, and a bedroll. I asked the folks around here if they could spare some food n’ other supplies. They couldn’t spare too much, but they still wanted to show how grateful they was. So…”
“That’s…that’s real sweet of you, Sunny.” Luci smiled, probably the most genuinely she had in a while.
“It’s no problem, not after helpin’ defend the town.” Sunny smiled in turn.
“Nah, seriously. This is damn near…nah, this is the nicest thing anyone’s done for me in years. Thanks.”
“You’re welcome, then. So, I…well, I only got this together for you because Trudy told me you were plannin’ on moving on, trying to find that man that shot you.”
“Sure am. Sorry.”
“No, it’s fine. I’d do the same.”
“Speaking of, d’ya know how I would get to Primm?”
“Oh, yeah. That’d be your first stop on your way to Vegas, if you can’t go north through the I-15. Take the road southeast out of town till it hits the freeway. Primm is the town with the roller coaster, straight south.” Sunny pointed to the eastern road out of town as Luci looked over. “Can't miss it. NCR patrols do a good job of keeping the highway clear, but I'd keep your gun where you can reach it easily. You never know who you'll run into. Off the road, you'll probably start running into hostile wildlife. My advice would be to stick to the highway when you can.”
“Thanks.” Luci paused, then turned back to Sunny. “What d’you know about the NCR?”
“Bunch of settlers and soldiers coming in from the West, fixing on making Nevada their own. They can be right pushy, but the roads are safer 'cause of them, so I tend to let it go.” Sunny sighed, sounding a little frustrated for once. “Not that I got a choice.”
“What do they keep you safe from?”
“Well, the wildlife for one thing. Rowdy locals for another. They're protecting their own. Just happens to help us. They've been holding off this other group from the East, too.”
“Other group?”
Sunny snorted in amusement. “Got a funny name. Call themselves Caesar's Legion. Never seen 'em in these parts, so I couldn't tell you much. I hear rumors, that's about it. Supposedly they keep slaves, and they got some real nasty ways of killing folks. But maybe that's just something folks in the NCR cooked up to make themselves seem more useful here. Less uninvited.”
“…Huh. That’s a good point.” Luci nodded. “I’ll probably want to stay on their good side if I’m gonna be traveling through here, though, yeah?”
“Probably. That’s just the way it is.”
“Yeah, well, it’s the same everywhere. Whoever’s in charge, you wanna stay friendly with.”
“That’s why I like stayin’ here. We all run this place together. No one’s above anyone, and you don’t feel like you gotta walk on eggshells around no one.”
Luci nodded solemnly. “…So, I also wanted to ask, what’s up north? Before the I-15 gets nasty, anyway.”
“Sloan and Quarry Junction. They mine rocks or something, but I heard they got troubles lately. I think Sloan’s okay, but Quarry Junction, just past them, I heard that place’s not safe.”
“Right. Thanks, Sunny. For bein’ so helpful, just…all ‘round.”
“You already thanked me. I told you, it’s no skin off my nose.” Sunny smiled again. “If you’re gonna leave, just remember, you’re always welcome here.”
“Heh. I know that much.” Luci put the sack away in her messenger bag. “I’ll try to come back here sometime, check in on y’all.”
“That’d be great. I think Trudy would be happy to hear ‘bout any adventures you have out there.” Sunny stopped, crossed her arms, and looked at the ground, before looking back at Luci. “Hey. Did you ask Victor to help?”
“Yeah.” Luci thought for a moment as well. “Shit, he never came.”
“Mind checkin’ on him? I know he…I mean, he can’t really do things just outta the kindness of his heart, but it feels odd that he didn’t come.”
“Sure, on my way out. I think I’ll be takin’ my leave, now.” Luci stepped away, stopped, then turned back to Sunny and grinned. “Maybe when I come back, we can have a drink?”
Sunny paused, seemed to realize what Luci meant, and smiled sheepishly. “Heh. Yeah, alright. That sounds good, Luci.”
Luci chuckled. “Hell yeah, man.”

Victor was at the shack. Come to think of it, Luci hadn’t seen him all day until just then. His screen was off, and he was leaning over, his large arms hanging limp at his sides. Luci stepped up to him, a bit concerned.
“…Hey, Vic? You okay?”
Victor suddenly stood up and whirred to life, his screen flickering on and revealing his usual, cheery face.
“Howdy, pardner! So, when do the rustlers show up?”
“They already showed up, man, they’re dead.”
“Really? I must've dozed off. Although, that's never happened before.”
“You didn’t hear the gunfire? The explosions.”
“Didn't hear a thing. I guess I dozed off there for a minute.”
Luci squinted. “Huh. Might be data corruption in a memory chip. I know enough about robots to know that it could fuck up your working memory. Mind if I take a quick look at ya?”
“All right, but put everything back the way you found it!”
He turned around and allowed Luci to open up his back panel.
“Gonna shut you down for a quick minute so I don’t mess up your memory when I take out the data chip. You okay with that?”
“…Hm, alright, but make it quick, alright, pard?”
“I promise.”
Luci shut Victor off for a moment, long enough to take out his main data chip and inserting it into her pip-boy. It looked like the data from that morning was just…gone. From the data logs just beforehand, it appeared that someone had remotely input an override command, shutting him off for a time. Once she’d seen the issue, she ejected the data chip, put it back in place, and booted Victor back up before closing his back panel. He swerved back around when she was done.
“So, it looks like someone activated an override command. Basically, they shut you off just long enough to make sure you missed the action. Does ‘Override Command 16-Delta’ mean anything to you.”
“Never heard of it.” Victor paused. “I truly am sorry I couldn't help you, pardner. Was there something else you wanted to talk about?”
“…Nah. I just wanted to make sure you were alright, Vic. And you don’t gotta apologize. It’s not like you chose to get shut off like that.”
“That’s real kind of you, friend. But I still think I need to pay ya back somehow. Just let me know when you need a hand, and I’ll be the first to lend one.”
“Thanks, Vic. I appreciate it. Maybe I’ll take you up on that next I roll back into town.”

“…You leavin’, then?”
Luci stopped as she passed the saloon, and turned to Easy Pete, a bit surprised he had spoken first.
“…Yeah. Why?”
“Nothin’. I’m a little surprised you ain’t stayin’.”
“Really?”
“It’s a good place, Goodsprings.”
“Yeah, it really looks it. It’s…peaceful.”
“But you’re still goin’ off to find that city boy.”
“Heheh. Well, I might not look it, but I got a vengeful streak.”
“I see. D’you think you’ll ever think of calling this place home?”
“…Nah.”
“Anywhere?”
“Don’t need a home, don’t want it.”
“Everyone wants a home. Deep down, even if they don’t think so.”
“That so?”
“Mmhm. So why’re you tellin’ yourself you don’t?”
Luci paused. “…I dunno.”
“You do. Maybe you don’t think you do, but you do. You’re just too stubborn to do nothing ‘bout it.” He took a drag of the cigarette and sighed. “That’s life, I s’pose. When you’re younger, you know how to be happy, but you’re too stubborn to do what you gotta. Then, once you’ve stopped bein’ stubborn, you’re too old.”
“I guess so, old-timer. Wish me luck.”
“I will. Hope you don’t die out there, kid.”
Lucía walked away.

“I don’t want to be an asshole, but I’m not sure how likely you are to help Bill and Jacob.”
“Are you usually this pessimistic, Arcade?” Guy held open the gate for Arcade as he headed out, followed by Chico, who just seemed happy that he was coming along.
“No, actually. But I’m just being realistic, considering your level of, er, expertise. Are you experienced with dealing with addicts?”
“Yes, I am. I just wasn’t able to help that one. But, that wasn’t a result of his addiction, that was a result of…well, him being an awful person.”
“…Oh. Uh…”
Guy stopped. “Sorry, that was…personal. Heh. What I meant is that Bill and Jacob sound like fine folk. They just have issues.”
“Don’t we all?”
“Indeed. And I am a firm believer that anyone that wants help can be helped. So, do you have any idea where we can find Bill and Jacob?”
“There’s an old pre-war apartment Bill usually hangs around in. Jacob lives in that huge, crumbling building across from Mick And Ralph’s. If you entered through the east gate, it would’ve been immediately to your left. I’ll show you.”
Arcade headed past Guy and led him over to the gate he had entered Freeside from. It was only then Guy noticed a rather beaten-up sign reading “Mick And Ralph’s” hanging outside of a building to their left, right of the east gate. Opposite that was the large, destroyed building Guy had seen on his way in. They headed inside and navigated past the crumbled sections of the building to find a man in ragged clothes, with brown hair and a comb-over, sitting on the ground and leaning against an intact stretch of wall. He noticed Guy walk in and scrambled to his feet, but relaxed when he saw Arcade follow him.
“Wha? Oh, hey, Arcade.”
Surprisingly to Guy, Arcade smiled a bit, though it was a bit awkward. “Hey, Bill.”
“Who’s….who’shis?” Bill was a bit drunk.
“Guy De Devaul, sir. Julie’s a bit worried about you,” Guy nodded and smiled.
“Oh...Julie...She’s such a nice lady…” Bill smiled.
“...Bill, can I ask who’s supplying you?”
Arcade raised a brow as Bill replied. “Dixon. I know he waters it down, but I just need a little to get through the day. What else am I supposed to do?”
“Dixon. Where’s Dixon?”
“He...um...he hangs around Mick and Ralph’s. You prolly saw him on the way in. He doesn’t get you people’s attention.”
“Us people?”
“You guys who...don’t need ‘im.”
Guy sighed. “Bill, you like Julie and Arcade, and most of the locals here, right?”
“Yeah, they’re nice. Nice people. Most of ‘em.”
“Your friends miss you, Bill. They’re worried. And…Julie said you’re the only one who can fix the water pump. They need you, and you need them.”
Bill stared at Guy, then glanced at Arcade, who simply nodded. His eyes teared up. “Oh, Julie...I’ve really screwed things up, haven’t I?” He seemed to be talking to himself more than anything, “I’ll...I’ll head over to the fort and get some rest. This has gone on too long.” He shuffled out of Guy’s way.
“You’ll be alright, Bill.” Arcade pat him on the back as he staggered past him.
Guy turned to Arcade. “He will?”
“I really hope so.” Arcade turned to the entrance of the old building and sighed. “Let’s go find Jacob.”
They headed out and towards the fort again. “You like Bill, then?”
“He’s a nice, smart man. Just has issues with alcohol. Like…a lot of people around here.”
“...So, tell me about yourself, Arcade.”
“Are you sure?”
“Why are you asking?”
“I’m really very boring. You’d get more interesting stories out of a Freeside junkie.”
Guy gave Arcade a playful punch to the shoulder. “Come on, seriously.”
“For one, ow. For another, seriously.”
“Arcade, I’m interested because I want to be your friend. Please don’t put yourself down.”
“Alright, fine...I’m...thirty-ish. Well, late thirties. I was born...west of here. I was an only child and spent most of my time with my mother. My father died when I was young and I never got over it. Oh...and I like medicine and reading books about failed Pre-War socioeconomic policies. Right now, I'm sure you're asking yourself, ‘Why hasn't some lucky man scooped this bachelor off his feet?’ Like I said, I'm boring.”
“Who said I’m not some lucky man?” Guy grinned.
Arcade smiled humorously, “Okay, you can stop.”
“Sorry, sorry.” Guy laughed. “I couldn’t help it. So, considering your comment on the Pre-War socioeconomic policies, and I’ve heard your opinion on Caesar, what’s your stance on the Legion as a whole?”
Arcade scoffed as they passed through the junk near the Fort, into the next section of Freeside. “What about them? Terrible human beings blindly following a crazy person. I don’t like blaming soldiers for the sins of their superiors, but in most cases, they’re just as awful as Caesar and his right-hand men.”
“Great. I feel the same way.” Guy looked ahead. “I stayed with the NCR because of that.”
Arcade turned to Guy. “Oh, you were a soldier?”
“17 years, with all my tours added together. I help them out when I can, but I have no plans of serving another tour.”
“You...support them?”
“You don-Oh, yes, the Followers.”
“Exactly.”
“...They’re going to need help with Hoover Dam. The Legion is building up their forces again, you know.”
“They had their chance to get help from the Followers, but being Imperialists mattered more to them. No.”
Guy looked at the ground. He didn’t really know what else to say, so he opted to say nothing.
Across the street from the Silver Rush, an energy weapon traders’, was the entrance to an abandoned, half-destroyed apartment, where a pale, balding man with scraggly white goatee and torn clothes was leaning against the wall next to the stairs inside.
“There he is. You think you can help him?”
“Think I can’t?”
“Well, who knows. You managed to talk Bill into getting help. I’m…I think you can convince Jacob.”
“You think?”
Arcade shrugged.
“That’s reassuring.” Guy headed into the apartment.
Jacob stood up and glanced outside as Guy headed in. “Were you talking to that...Follower guy?”
“Arcade? Yes.”
“Then you’re probably not here to give me chems.” He sighed heavily and leaned back against the wall.
“No, no I’m not. Julie Farkas said you could use some help.”
“Julie is a saint, but I don’t need help. I feel young and strong, long as I get my chems.”
“You look sick, Jacob, and if you feel anything like you look, you’re certainly not stronger for it. I think you should stop with the chems.”
“Why stop? I feel great!” Jacob grinned half-heartedly. “No worries. My guy will be here soon enough, just wait.”
“Let me guess, Dixon’s supplying you?”
Jacob stopped, a bit taken aback by Guy’s guess, and looked at the floor. “Don’t get me wrong, if I had two caps to scrape together, I’d buy the materials to make my own, but my damn hands won’t stop shaking. I gotta get ‘em from Dixon. Something about him seems sketchy, but I can’t stop now. Last time I stopped, I felt like I was gonna turn inside out. At this point, I’m mostly buying his stuff just so I don’t feel sick. Speaking of, you got any spare caps?”
“I hate to be so harsh, but I’m not feeding your addiction.”
Jacob scowled. “Then what’re you even still doing here?”
Guy turned away and walked outside.
“No luck?” Arcade looked inside at Jacob.
“Nope.” Guy frowned. “Let’s go speak to Dixon.”
“Dixon’s not gonna stop selling to them, Guy.” Arcade sounded more disgusted as he continued. “He profits off of the suffering of others, so he’s either become desensitized to their plight or he’s never cared in the first place.”
“We’ll see. I’m not usually so diplomatic with people I don’t like.”
As they walked back to the east gate, Guy noticed he had missed a few things on their walk there during his conversation with Arcade. He noticed a bar with the sign “Atomic Wrangler” outside, and he reminded himself again to not visit that place.
At the intersection, where the gate lay to the left, there were a few criers, and a large building with a flashy neon sign outside of a man dancing and the name “The King’s School of Impersonation” emblazoned out front. A bunch of men that looked like the gang Guy had seen outside the gate hanging around and talking to each other, all with strangely similar outfits and pompadours. The right road led off for a couple blocks and led to a gate leading into the Strip, with a few odd robots Guy hadn’t seen before guarding it. Didn’t seem like a good idea to get too close to them.
“Hm. What’s the King’s School of Impersonation?”
“Home of the Kings.” Arcade stared at Guy. “You haven’t heard of the Kings?”
“I met some of them, I guess, outside the gate. Who are they?”
“A gang. Trying to imitate some famous pre-war singer. I think it’s a little creepy that they all look virtually the same, but I guess that’s just me. They’re led by ‘The King.’ He seems like an alright person, but his gang doesn’t always seem to get that across.”
“Hm. And what do you think of the Strip?”
Arcade scowled. “Well, the Strip’s a great place to go, if you like terrible things and terrible people.”
“Heh. I suppose that sums it up.”
“Were you planning on going there?”
“Just wanted to check it out.”
“Well, the entry fee is 2000 caps, so I doubt it.”
Guy sucked air between his teeth. “Oooh, I did not take that into consideration.”
“No one does. That’s why the Atomic Wrangler exists.”
They headed through the junk gate and continued back over to Mick and Ralph’s.
“I’ve heard of three casinos in the Strip?” Guy spoke up.
“Oh, yeah. The Tops is a pretty typical casino. The Ultra-Luxe tries to seem ‘classy,’ apparently. The Gomorrah doesn’t bother with the classy act. Straight-up gambling, alcohol, and strippers. I’ve heard from some disappointed men and women coming in from the Strip that there are significantly less men on the stage than they expected.”
“Heh, I’ll just skip The Gomorrah, I suppose,” Guy chuckled.
“Not into women?”
“I thought that was implied.”
“I assumed you were either joking or you swung both ways. No offense, but you seem like a stereotypical ‘ladies man’ straight from a pre-war romance movie. Or novel. Either counts.”
“I’ll take that as a compliment, but only because you said ‘no offense.’ And you’ve seen pre-war romance movies?”
“Snippets. I wasn’t really interested. More interested in the old gladiator movies.”
“Sounds nice. I’ve never seen a movie.”
“Maybe someday, Guy. I don’t happen to carry holotapes on me at all times, though.”
They headed forwards towards Mick and Ralph’s, where they noticed a rather sketchy man in a black vest, white shirt, and jeans. He had a very smudged and gaunt face, with a pencil thin mustache, that fell and turned away when he noticed Guy and Arcade approaching.
“Oh, one of you Followers.”
“Yes, Dixon. One of ‘us Followers,’” Arcade replied drily.
Dixon grinned, “Alright. What’re you gonna do this time? Complain at me?”
Guy cleared his throat, getting Dixon’s attention, “You’re Dixon, right?”
“You with him?”
“Yeah. Is there a problem?” Guy steeled his voice and stepped between him and Arcade.
Dixon looked between them and stepped back a bit. “Jeez, calm down. I was just fuckin’ with him.”
“I will. And I want to talk about Bill and Jacob.”
“Yeah, man. Those cats are out of their domes addicted to my shit.” Dixon snorted. “Pretty hilarious to watch.”
“Yeah, I’m going to need you to stop supplying them.”
“Really?” Dixon grinned. “Aw, you’re such a saint. But you know what? I might be willing to stop if there’s something in it for me.”
“Hm. In it for you? Maybe you like rumors. I can certainly pay you in info. Wonder if, say, the NCR is supplying you with free drugs? To keep Freeside down? That’d certainly hurt your other business if I started talking to someone around here about it. Like the Kings?”
“W-wait, man! You can’t go around saying shit like that!” He looked around, then leaned in and spoke quieter. “Okay, I get your point. You won’t have to worry about me supplying those two anymore.”
“Right. I should hope so. There’s a lot worse in it for you than nasty gossip if I hear otherwise.”
Guy turned and walked away, Arcade tailing him closely.
“That was...odd. I thought you liked the NCR.”
“Rumors are just as devastating to a business as truth, if they’re believable.”
“Well, there’s a reason it’s believable.”
“Arcade…”
“I’m just saying, is all.”
“...Arcade, is it terrible that I considered hitting him for a minute?”
Arcade paused. “No. Dixon is an awful, awful person. I thought about it when he was talking about Bill and Jacob. It’s just that I don’t think I could forgive myself, even considering how terrible he is. And, honestly, I don’t think you could, either.”
Guy paused. “You’re...right. You’re right. I couldn’t.”
Arcade put a hand on Guy’s shoulder. “Yeah. You don’t strike me as someone who’d enjoy that. Let’s go talk to Jacob.”
As they headed back to Jacob, Arcade spoke up again. “I told you about myself. Let’s hear about you.”
“Ah, well...let’s see...I’m 35, and I was born in a Petro Chico gas station in California. My father was an asshole and my mother was...absent. When I was 16 I ran away, and I joined the NCR. I left 4 years ago and took my dog with me. Not much to tell in the grand scheme of things, but I do have some interesting stories in between.”
“Hm. I suppose we could both bond over our paternal problems.” Arcade replied with an air of amusement.
“Heheh. I suppose we could.”
“At least you’re honest about it.”
“Yes, I am. I had an issue with it for a while, but it’s gone away. I think.”
“I don’t think it ever really just ‘goes away.’ But…you get better at ignoring when you get older.”
“Precisely.”
“Alright. I suppose you have it all out in the open now.” Arcade sounded almost, ever so slightly guilty. “You’re very...honest about your past.
“I haven’t told you everything.” Guy smiled. “The rest will come later. I suspect the same goes for you as well.”
“Nope. Literally just that boring.”
Guy gave Arcade a very light smack on the back of the head. “Stop it.”
“Mmm...no. Also, ow, seriously, you are much stronger than you clearly think you are.”
They arrived at the crumbled building, and Guy entered. Jacob hadn’t done much, except that he was now sitting, and his hand tremors were worsening.
“Jacob.”
“You. I told you, you don’t got spare caps-”
“Dixon won’t be serving you anymore.”
“W...what?! Are you crazy?! I’m gonna fuckin’ die without those!”
“No, you’re not, Jacob. You need to stop.”
After he had given Jacob some time to calm down, he replied, “Alright. But I’m gonna need at least...ten shots of fixer to get me through the week, then the Followers can help.”
“Jacob, you need to be strong. You need the support of your friends to get you through this. More drugs will only help for so long. It’s going to get worse before it gets better, but it will get so much better than this.”
Jacob opened his mouth, then paused and looked at the ground. “I...I think you’re right. I’ve been through much worse. I’ll go to the Fort and see if the Followers can watch over me while I recover.”
“They will, I think we both know that. And I know you can do it.”
Jacob took a deep breath, stood up, and walked out the door of the apartment. Guy followed and stopped at the doorway. Arcade whistled.
“Huh. You did it. You can talk your way through anything, can’t you?”
“Indeed I can. But that was just...the right words in the right places. They just needed some encouragement.”
“...You did good, Guy.”
“So, you’re staying with me for the Repconn trip, then?”
“Right, that. Why not?”

“Hey, yo! Cowboy!”
Luci stopped. Some Powder Gangers on the northern road, next to a razed caravan. Looked like she was going to see a lot of them around there. She cocked her head, feigning confusion.
“Yeah! You! Cowboy! Get the hell outta here! Other way, c’mon!” One of them raised his rifle.
He could hardly hold it right. They were numerous, but little more than pests at the end of the day. She pulled her pistol faster than the first ganger could pull the trigger, or faster than he was willing to, and took out two of them in seconds. The last fired, hitting her in the sternum of the vest she was wearing. She fell backwards, waited for him to relax, and fired twice more, shooting out his leg from under him first, then hitting his head when he fell forward.
“Ugh, fuck, Jesus. Assholes.” She took a moment to get her breath again, clutching her chest. Dante approached her again after having darted way.
“Hey, I’m okay, Dante.”
Dante meowed and trotted over to one of the bodies, sniffing his hair and looking at Luci.
“Go ahead, man, I ain’t gonna eat ‘em.”
Dante started nibbling at the man’s ears while Luci searched the Powder Gangers and the dead trader and caravan guards. She found some more good stuff – preserved food, even some fresh apples and maize, water, if irradiated, a good chunk of caps, and ammo. Dante looked happy to just get a bite to eat for himself. Luci let him gnaw a couple ears off before picking him up and placing him on her shoulder. Didn’t want him getting too used to the taste of people.
Also on her way to Sloan, she spotted a dead ghoul on the side of the road, wearing some curious, ragged, almost monk-like robes, and clutching a laser rifle. Luci felt a bit bad looting him, but she needed the energy cells he had on him, and she’d like the rifle in case she needed to do some long-range shooting.
She only walked for about a half-hour longer before she came across a sort of barricade across the road, next to a small settlement on the side of the road. Upon her approach, an old man with a large, scruffy white beard and a hard hat stood up from a chair along the sandbagged blockade and stepped towards her.
“Hold up!” He barked, motioning with his hand to stop. “There are Deathclaws all over the damn place north of here. I'd turn back if I were you. If you want to get to New Vegas, you're better off heading east from Primm and then looping north. It's a heck of a lot safer.”
“Deathclaws? ‘Round here? Where the hell did they come from?”
“They moved into the quarry after the Powder Gangers came through and made off with most of our dynamite. We shut the quarry down while we waited for the NCR to get us some more blasting sticks, but now the Deathclaws have shown up. The NCR's a no-show, and my men and I have got nothing to do but sit on our asses all day. It's damn frustrating.”
“You ever had problems with the big bastards before?”
“We'd see them occasionally, but they didn't seem too keen on getting too close to the quarry. Not sure if it was the noise or all the workers. I can't believe that an entire pack moved into the quarry. I thought that kind of bad luck only happened in New Vegas.”
“Yeah. Same here, but…trust me, I’ve just been proven wrong. What d’ya know about it? Vegas, I mean.”
“I've been there once, and I don't recommend it. It's just a way to burn through a month's pay in five minutes. I've seen a lot of folks come through here thinking they'll have the easy life once they get there. It never happens.”
“…I imagine. What’s this place, then?”
“This is Sloan, a camp for us quarry workers. The actual quarry, Quarry Junction, is up the road north of here. The whole thing is an NCR operation. We make cement for the NCR using the limestone we dig out with dynamite and draglines. Dirty work, but the pay's good. Wish we got paid in caps, though. Not a lot of merchants like taking NCR paper money.”
“Hold the hell up, you ain’t even bein’ paid in caps?”
“Nope. The NCR's been trying to switch over to using paper money, like in the Pre-War days. Trouble is that the exchange rates ain't exactly fair. For example, a hundred bucks in NCR money is valued at roughly half that in caps around here. Seems like a rotten deal for us, but work is work.”
“Shit, man. That sucks. You need any help ‘round here?”
“I’m sure we do. Honestly, so much shit’s been happenin’, I wouldn’t notice if anything else went wrong in the meantime. I’ve spent most of my time out here recently, making sure no one gets past here without a fair warning.”
“That’s good of you, at least. You mind if I take a look around?”
“Sure. Just don’t steal or start nothing.”
“Hey, no problem.”
Luci headed into the small settlement, mostly made up of shacks thrown together with rusty sheets of metal. Some miners were milling about, looking rather idle and bored, probably from the lack of work, A couple were sitting down at tables around the shacks, passing the time with some Nuka Cola. As Luci looked around town, she heard a loud snuffling just by her legs, and Dante hissing. She turned and looked down to see a surprisingly friendly mole rat sniffing her pant leg. Dante continued hissing and spitting at it from the safety of Luci’s shoulder.
“Woah, hey, Dante, calm it, man.” She placed Dante down a bit further away, where he could run if he wanted to, and turned to the mole rat. “Aw, hey there, sweetheart.” She pat its head gently. “Good boy. Girl?”
The mole rat sniffed at her hand and butted its head against it. As it tried to step a little closer, Luci noticed it was holding up one of its front legs.
“Hm. What’s wrong, little guy?” She looked closer at the leg. It looked like it had a nasty cut on it.
“One sec.” Luci reached into her bag and fished out the med kit Doc Mitchell had given her. The cut didn’t look bad enough to use a stimpak on, so she opted to just clean the wound with a bit of water and disinfectant before drying it off and wrapping it up with a bandage. The mole rat was shockingly patient throughout the procedure. Once its leg was all wrapped up, Luci pat its little head again.
“There ya go. Good girl?”
One the miners stepped over, looking at the rat, then at Luci. “Hey. Didja patch up Snuffles?”
“That his name?”
“Her. She was limpin’ for a while, but, uh, we don’t really have any doctors here, and we didn’t wanna risk makin’ it worse.” The man kneeled down, prompting Snuffles to shuffle over and butt her head against his hand. “Hey, girl, you feelin’ all better now?”
“She’s a real good girl. Happy I could help her.” Luci stood up. Once Snuffles had stepped away, Dante felt comfortable enough to hop up on her shoulders again.
“Say, are you like, er, a repair…lady or somethin’?”
“Why?”
“Well, our generator ain’t been doing too good, either.”
“I can take a look. Where is it?”
“It’s just outside the mining office.” The man pointed to the generator next to the main building, though it was really just a slightly taller shack.
Luci stepped over to the generator and kneeled down to take a look.
“Well, there’s your problem. Hasn’t even been installed properly.”
“Shit, really?”
“Nope. I can install it right, if y’think your boss up there can pay me for it.”
“Chomps? Oh, yeah, for sure. Go ahead.”
“Okay. You got a workshop? ‘Cause I’m gonna need you to grab me some tools.”
“No problem.”
“Aaand maybe some stuff like fission batteries, sensor modules? As a reward for helpin’ out Snuffles?”
“’Course.”

Installing the generator wasn’t too difficult – Luci had installed probably a hundred like them in her life. Once it was installed, and she had pocketed the parts the miner could spare her, she headed back to Chomps.
“Hey, Chomps.”
“I’d prefer Mr. Lewis.” The scruffy old man stood up again from his place at the blockade. “What is it?”
“I noticed you had a tame mole rat, for one.”
“Yeah, he - or she, I guess - wandered into camp a couple of months back. Seemed friendly enough.” His nose wrinkled in disgust. “Ugly-looking thing, but the guys like having it around. Good for morale and all that.”
“Well, I fixed her leg.”
He paused, as if he needed to remember that it was a problem in the first place. “I'd noticed Snuffles limping, but I didn't realize the problem was that serious. Thanks - that beast helps keep spirits up around here.”
“And, I fixed your generator.”
Chomps’ eyes lit up a bit, and though he didn’t smile, he nodded in approval. “It's nice to see things going the way they're supposed to, for a change. I'm going to pay you out of my own pocket for this one.” He, quite literally, reached into his pocket, counted out some bills, and handed over two $100 NCR bills. “You can trade ‘em in at the Mojave Outpost, if you want. It’s past Primm, just west of Nipton.”
“Thanks, Mr. Lewis.” Luci pocketed the money. “I think I’ll be heading down to Primm. Take the long way ‘round. I, er…if I can find someone who can take care of your Deathclaw problem, I’ll direct them to you.”
“I doubt you can find that person. But I appreciate the sentiment.”

At the crossroads between the roads to Goodsprings, Primm to the south, and Sloan to the north, lay an old shack. Luci had taken care of the Powder Gangers hanging about just behind the building when she had gotten there before she’d headed north to Sloan. They didn’t have much on them, besides some dynamite, and she hadn’t searched the building yet.
She slowly opened the door, wincing as it screeched on its hinges, keeping her pistol at the ready. Thankfully, there didn’t appear to be anything or anyone inside, besides some old lockers, crates, and a desk in the middle of the one-room building. A Hamm radio sat on the desk, along with an empty bottle of Sunset Sarsaparilla. Luci tried the Hamm radio, but it didn’t seem to be able to properly tune into any stations. What she was a little more interested in was the cap on the desk. It was a Sunset Sarsaparilla cap, obviously, but with a large, white star on the bottom. She hadn’t seen anything like it, so she opted to place it in the pouch on the front of her bag. She also placed the cigarette butts she had kept there in one of the cap pouches she had been given, for safekeeping.
She also found a key on the desk, which unlocked one of the old lockers. She found a cool 40 caps inside, along with some ammunition and a 9mm pistol. She pocketed the pistol, to take it apart later. That was about all she found inside, so she left and continued south to Primm.

The highway split around Primm, the road to the left going under an overpass leading into town, and the one on the right leading into part of the town ruins. Before she could go much further past the split, a man in uniform stood up from his position at a checkpoint just between the roads and ran over, waving his hand to get her attention.
“Hey, where the hell do you think you’re going!? Primm is off limits!”
“What? Why?!” Luci called back, approaching the soldier.
“Some convicts from the prison up the road have taken over the town. Everyone inside is either dead or in hiding. What's more, there are two tribes of raiders causing trouble in this area as well. You'd be safer heading back up to Goodsprings.”
“Well, hey, you’re the soldier, man, shouldn’t you be protecting the place from people like that?”
“We'd love to, but they don't fall under NCR jurisdiction. Even if they did we're in no shape to protect them.”
“Why not?”
“We don't have the equipment to take out the convicts, and even if we did we need some extra hands for backup. You should talk to Lieutenant Hayes. He's in a tent down the road. Just stay on the west side of the overpass if you don't want to get shot.”
“…Yeah, alright.”
Luci continued on the west side of the overpass, but she didn’t plan on listening to that guy.
Past the overpass, within the city ruins and protected by fencing lay a small NCR camp, with military tents pitched around a barrel fire in the middle of a small lot. Another man in uniform, this one with a trooper helmet and goggles, was standing by the fire, smoking. He nodded curtly upon seeing Luci.
“I'm Sergeant McGee of the New California Republic Army, 5th Battalion, 1st Company. If you want to talk about something, speak to Lieutenant Hayes.”
“Where the hell’s he?”
“In there.” He nodded at the left-most tent.
“Alright, thanks, man.”
That tent seemed to be their make-shift base of operations, judging from the table and shelves, but it also housed some mattresses. Luci assumed Hayes was important-looking guy sitting at the table, wearing a green beret with a pin in it. He appeared to be looked over some rather boring-looking documents when Luci entered, but he turned his attention away from it to stand up and turn to her.
“I'm Lieutenant Hayes of the New California Republic Army, 5th Battalion, 1st Company. What's your business?”
She wasn’t really sure why they felt the need to introduce themselves in such a long-winded manner.
“Hey. Uh. Luci Perez. Of Texas. What are y’all doing out here?”
“We were sent out here to hold back the tide of convicts from the correctional facility. As you can probably tell, we aren't doing the kind of job we could be doing.”
“Yeah, that’s…obvious. What’s your problem with the mission?”
“The mission isn't a problem. The problem is with supplies. The convicts are better armed and organized than our intel initially suggested. I'm trying to get some reinforcements here, maybe some guns with some firepower, but...” He sighed deeply, his professional demeanor falling for a moment. “…shit...things are just going slow.”
“So, what’s the deal with that prison?”
“Most people just call it NCRCF. That's NCR Correctional Facility. A little bit ago the convicts there staged a coup, killed the guards that weren't able to escape, and have been ransacking the area since then.”
“Yeah, I know about the convicts. They’re assholes. But also pretty…amateur. I’m guessin’ the problem’s with numbers.”
“Exactly. And the ones still around the prison are much more organized than the scattered groups in the surrounding area. Now, these ones have managed to make a base in that hotel across town, so this group’s becoming a problem, as well.”
“Tough shit, man. Which hotel’re they camped out in?”
“The Bison Steve, the place with the roller coaster behind it. The townspeople are all hiding in the Vikki and Vance Casino, across the street from there.”
Luci remembered something about her delivery order.
“You wouldn’t happen to know if a Johnson Nash of the Mojave Express is holed up in that Casino, too?”
“If he’s alive, he’d be there.”
“Got it. Say, what’d I get if I clear out that ‘Bison Steve’?”
“...I…can’t offer you compensation, but you wouldn’t have to worry about coming through here again, I suppose. That is, if you could clean out the place yourself. Which is…”
“Got it, thanks, man. See ya, good luck with your...army business.” Luci gave a lax salute and a grin as she headed back outside. Hayes looked a bit baffled.
Another soldier was at a checkpoint just before the overpass leading to the rest of town. He noticed Luci heading over and pointed to the road.
“Hey, watch your step. We’ve got mines planted here to stop ‘em from coming over.”
“Oh. Can you, like, turn ‘em off?”
“...N-No, they’re…they’re mines.”
“Oh. I thought y’all would have some kinda…I dunno, fancy mines. But, hell, if they’re just normal mines…”
Luci peered past the checkpoint, at the partially-collapsed road, and could just make out three mines along the road. They hadn’t exactly made any effort to conceal them.
“You might wanna duck.”
“What?”
Luci took a step back, pulled her pistol, and fired at the mine, setting it off and kicking up the debris around it. The soldier jumped and ducked, though it was only after she had warned him.
“Shit! What the fuck!”
“Hey, it’s just a little explosion. Anyway.”
Luci stepped forward, spotted the next mine, and shot it.
“Stop it! Oh my god!”
“Don’t worry about it. Y’won’t have to worry ‘bout it soon.” Luci squinted, spotted a third mine, and set it off.
“Fuckin’ hell. I-I’m gonna tell Hayes you did this, I’m not getting shit for this.”
Luci shrugged, unsure of how that was a threat. “Okay?”
The soldier just threw his arms up exasperatedly. Luci continued further into town.
She spotted the Mojave Express building on the right, and upon seeing it, the rest of the town did seem more familiar, particularly the two large buildings in the middle of town, one immediately to her left, past a gas station and some metal shacks, and the other directly across the street from the first. Judging from the large roller coaster behind the building across the street, she guessed that that was the Bison Steve and the building to her left was the Vikki and Vance.
Luci pressed herself against the wall of the building to her left, keeping her pistol up as she heard voices just around the corner.
“Dante, you should git.”
Dante leapt off her shoulders and darted. He’d come back when the gunfire stopped.
Once she’d reached the corner of the building, she leaned forward and peeked past, into the street. A couple of Powder Gangers were waiting by the door into the Vikki and Vance. Notably, they seemed to have ditched the correctional facility uniform Cobb and his group had kept.
“How d’we get in?”
“I don’t fuckin’ know.”
“I was just askin’! We can’t just wait around out here all fuckin’ day, they’re not gonna open the door!”
“They’ve gotta ask about the Deputy at some point, and then we can ransom him.”
“And what if they don’t give a shit?”
“...Then, I dunno, we try n’ storm the building. It’s not like the NCR can do nothin’ about it.”
Luci reached into her bag, grabbed a stick of dynamite, and lit it.
“But what the fuck do they even have in there? We might get some caps outta it, but we’re not gettin’ shit all else from them. The best loot we coulda gotten was that old robot, and that asshole already came in and took it.”
Luci waited until it was just a couple seconds from blowing, and tossed it over by the Powder Gangers.
“What the FU-”
The blast and the sound of their bodies hitting the pavement cut them off. Luci peeked out from behind the corner to find that they were the only ones there. With a sigh of relief, she headed to the doors of the Vikki and Vance. They were locked, obviously, so Luci opted to knock.
“Hey! I ain’t one of them Powder Gangers! Just a courier!”
After a pause, the door unlocked. Luci holstered her pistol and slowly opened the door.
She was greeted by a group of people who were presumably the citizens of Primm, their guns collectively aimed at the door. Luci lifted her hands.
The man who seemed to be leading them, an old black man with a worn, leathery face and a shaved head, stepped forward, but lowered his shotgun, motioning to the others to do the same.
“I don't know what it was brought you to Primm, youngster, but you might want to rethink your plans. Town's gone to hell.”
“How exactly has it gone to hell?”
The old man sighed heavily and put away his shotgun. “Let's see. Been tough around here for a good while now. Worse since them thugs kidnapped our deputy. It started with that breakout from the prison up the road. First there was just a few thugs rolling through town, but then they got organized. Now they call themselves Powder Gangsters or something, and run around throwing dynamite and shooting people. Little while ago a good chunk of them left whatever kind of organization they got up there to squeeze all the food and drink out of us they could.”
“And who are you?”
“Johnson Nash's my name. Husband to Ruby Nash. Lived in Primm going on eight years now, thick and thin. I'm a trader primarily, for what it's worth with things like they are. I also run the local Mojave Express outpost.”
“I was lookin’ for you. What d’ya know ‘bout this order?” Luci fished the delivery order out of her bag and held it out to Nash.
He took the order and only took a glance before he furrowed his brow and sighed. “Oh, so you're talking about one of them packages.” He handed the order back to her. “That job had strange written all over it. But we couldn't turn down the caps.”
“What was strange about it?”
“That cowboy robot had us hire six couriers. Each was carrying something a little different. A pair of dice, a chess piece, that kind of stuff. Last word I had from the office, it looked like payment had been received for the other five jobs. Guess it was just your chip that didn't make it.” He shook his head, screwing his face up in frustration. “First deadbeat we hired to do the job canceled. Hope a storm from the Divide skins him alive.” He took a breath and calmed a bit. “Well, that's where you came in.”
“...A cowboy robot?” Luci paused, then looked past Nash, at a protectron wandering the casino with a little cowboy hat on. “Like that one?”
“Nope. Different fella. Bigger. Had himself a face on a screen, and he talked more like you or me.”
Why did Victor act like he didn’t know anything?
“Wait, so, the first guy canceled? Just like that?”
“Yeah, got this look when he saw you next down on the Courier list. His expression turned right around, asked me if your name was for real. I said, sure as lack of rain, you were still kicking. Then he turned down the job, just like that. I asked if he was sure, it was good money. No, let ‘Courier Six’ carry the package, that's what he said - like the Mojave'd sort you out or something. Then he just up and walked out.”
Luci couldn’t think of anyone who’d regard her like that. She didn’t like to make a habit of making enemies. But maybe the bullet had messed her memory up more than she thought.
“D’you know who he was? Or where he went?”
Nash shrugged. “No idea. Sounds like you two had a history for him to act like that. And turn down the money, too. Hope he didn't see any trouble in that package of yours. Maybe he thought your name was bad luck. Not for me to say.”
“D’you remember what he looked like?”
Nash sucked in air through his teeth, crossing his arms and pausing to think before shaking his head. “...Sorry. I talk to a lotta people for the Mojave Express. They all start to blend together after a while. He was…I think…the young man with the shaved head, dark skin…wait, no, that was the 4th package. I really can’t recall.”
“Shit. Well, it ain’t your fault. It don’t matter now, really. What matters is that some city boy in a checkered suit and a couple thugs stole my package. Did anyone see ‘em here?”
“Well, now that you mention it, a few nights back one of the townies was out scavenging for supplies. He said he saw a fella with a daisy suit come through with some of them Great Khan misfits. They was talking about a chip.”
“Do ya know where they was going?”
“Well for that your best bet is going to be talking to Deputy Beagle. Since they came to town he was keeping a good bit of notes on them, and he was slinking around Bison Steve when your pretty-boy friend came through. He may have heard where they were going.”
“...And he’s been kidnapped.”
“Yup.”
Luci shrugged. “Ah, well. I was gonna kill those Powder Gangers anyhow. Least you don’t gotta worry about a ransom.”
“If you can get him outta there.”
“Mmhm.” Luci turned to the door, stopped, then turned back to Nash. “You got any energy cells I can buy off ya?”
“Sure do, somewhere in the back. They worth 3 caps a pop to you?”
Luci thought over that offer, then nodded. “Mmm…yeah.”

Dante was sitting outside when Luci exited the Vikki and Vance. He turned his little head towards her, then looked at the Bison Steve.
“Yep. Guess I’m heading in there. Hope you understand why I can’t bring ya in.”
Dante meowed passively and trotted over to one of the dead Powder Gangers.
“Sure. Don’t get too used to that, though. Stay here.” Luci headed over to the Bison Steve’s front doors, held up her pistol, and kicked open the front doors.
A Powder Ganger ran into the lobby from the hall across from the entrance just as she entered. She shot him through the heart over the barricade around the reception desk, sending him down. She quickly, but quietly darted over, across the desk, and pulled his body out of the hall before she heard anyone follow. She did, however, hear more footsteps quickly approaching, and so snuck back over to another desk, this one to the right of the entrance. Another man stepped into the lobby, his pistol drawn, and recoiled at the sight of the body.
“Oh, fuck!”
Once he’d fully stepped out of the hallway, Luci pulled her pistol and shot him in the head, sending him collapsing on top of the first body.
She first turned her attention to the locked door behind the desk to the right. The lock looked a little too complicated for her liking, but the terminal that controlled it didn’t have nearly as solid security. She wasn’t exactly an expert with programming, and even she could crack it.
It looked like no one had been in that locked room for a long while. A long-dead skeleton was sat at a table, on a single chair. She first noticed the slightly rusted key on the table itself, and grabbed that first. On the shelves, she found some medical supplies, as well as some stimpaks in another first aid box. She also managed to break into a safe in the wall, containing more medical items, some mentats, and some junk she could perhaps use later for repairs.
In the hallway, across from the lobby, was some sort of gift shop in which she managed to scrounge up some caps and pre-war money. But, other than a safe that was just too hard to crack, there wasn’t much in there.
As she continued through the hall, she found first an elevator - though the buttons seemed like they were broken. She left it alone for just then, and continued down the hall, stopping when she reached a place where it split, and she heard voices.
“Y’hear Cobb and his guys got shot down at the town up the road?”
“Heh. Yeah. Can’t say I’m gonna miss him.”
“Yeah, he was a fuckin’ asshole.”
Luci looked around and caught sight of a door to the left. She tried that with the key she found in the lobby, and found it fit.
It led to a long hall that stretched forward, then to the right. Luci cautiously headed in, keeping her pistol ready, and followed it to the end, finding that it led to a small kitchen. She peeked in, and, just past a counter, she spotted a man kneeling at the back of the room, his hands tied in front of him. He looked up, just barely spotting her. She put her finger to her lips. He nodded just slightly and looked in front of him, and to her right, to the other end of the kitchen. It appeared to lead into a much larger dining room with a great bonfire lit in the middle. Luci grabbed her dynamite when she saw the Powder Gangers congregating around it. One of them approached and sat next to the others, carrying a large flamethrower and with a tank strapped to his back.
“...Hey, where the hell is Bobby? Didn’t he say he was gonna check on whatever fell in the lobby?”
The man with the flamethrower shifted. “Eh. He’s probably just dicking around with Paul.”
“Are ya sure? I can’t hear ‘em.”
“If you’re so fuckin’ worried, Bobby, you can go check on ‘em yourself.”
“Fine. I guess I wi-”
Their conversation was interrupted by the dynamite landing in the bonfire, blasting them back and exploding the flamer tank in turn. Luci peeked out of the kitchen, and, once she felt reasonably sure that the Powder Gangers had all been taken care of, she turned her attention to the captive who was presumably Deputy Beagle. He was a rather arrogant-looking man with slicked back blonde hair - in fact, his demeanor was rather inappropriate for someone who had been kidnapped.
“I’m guessin’ you’re Beagle?”
“Why, yes I am. It's a pleasure to meet you. I'm in a bit of a predicament here. I'd be most appreciative if you'd set me free.” He spoke in a somewhat stilted, exaggeratedly polite manner.
“How’d you get here in the first place?”
“I must say it's been the low point of my career in law enforcement…” He sighed loudly. “The Powder Gangers stole into town at night and murdered my sister and her husband, the sheriff, in bed, while I was sleeping in the office. I watched them for a bit, waiting for the right moment to pounce and arrest the lot of them. Taking careful notes as I watched. To my dismay, they found me while I waited in the shadows and brought me here.”
“...Hm. I hear you got some info ‘bout a man in a checkered suit with some Khans.”
“My good lady, I believe I may have some information that would prove useful. If you would just untie my hands I'd be more than happy to share what information I have with you.” He lifted his bound hands.
She nodded as she slowly lifted her pistol and then pressed it against his forehead, prompting a rather wide-eyed response from him. “I’ve gone through a couple people to get here, and I don’t mind goin’ through one more, pally.”
“W-Well, you look to be the trustworthy sort. Okay, I'll tell you what I know." Luci lowered the pistol. "And...?" "Well, I overheard them saying that they are on their way to Novac. If you want to follow them I strongly suggest that you follow the road through Nipton. There are a lot of dangerous things out in the desert, and you won't have me with you to protect you, as I need to stay here and keep Primm safe.”
“...Okay, sure.”
“D-Do you think you could release me from my bondage…now?”
“Oh, sure. One sec.” Luci checked to see if the knife she usually kept in her right boot was still there. Fortunately for Beagle, it still was. She unsheathed it, grabbed his arm, and cut the ropes binding his hands. He shook off his arms and rubbed the ropeburn on his wrists as he stood up and sighed in relief.
“Oh that's just marvelous. I think I'll be making my way outside now. The air's a little close in here.”
Luci stood up. “I assume the rest of the Powder Gangers are on the second floor?”
“Hm? O-Oh, oh yes.”
“Well, go ahead, I ain’t stoppin’ you. Not as if you’d be much use.”
“Then I'll defer to your superior appraisal of character and prowess in contests of arms and see you outside!” With that, Beagle bolted to the lobby.
Luci stepped out into the dining room, mostly to strip what she could off of the dead Powder Gangers, and then headed back to the elevator to see what she could do about it. All they really needed was some rewiring, and, once she tried them, it seemed the elevator still worked well enough to get her to the second floor.

“So, I rescued Beagle and killed all them Powder Gangers.” Luci closed the doors to the Vikki and Vance behind her before turning to Nash, who had been waiting by the entrance.
“Kind of too bad you didn't do it the other way around!” Nash chuckled at himself and stood up a little straighter. “But, Primm ain't got no future until rule of law comes back to town.”
“So, what could I do to bring it back?”
Nash shrugged. “Your guess is good as mine. You might luck upon someone who's a natural-born sheriff.” He paused to think, then continued. “I heard of one fella what got himself locked in that NCR jailhouse up I-15. Maybe that ain't the best credential, but a sheriff's a sheriff. I imagine the NCR would be able to bring some law to the town, too. But from what I seen they barely got the firepower to protect themselves.”
“I’ll see what I can do about it.”
“That’d be appreciated. If you can bring the law back to Primm, we'll all be in your debt.”
“Mmhm. See ya when I can get someone. Bye, Nash. And thanks for pointin’ me in the right direction.”
“Sure. And don't go getting yourself shot.”

When Luci stepped outside, she found it was getting dark already. She had spent a decent chunk of time just clearing out that hotel. Dante had come back, probably because all the commotion had died down. As Luci turned to look at him approaching from the Mojave Express building, she noticed a corpse leaning against the building, next to the front door. Whoever he was, he looked like he had died recently. He didn’t have anything on him except for another delivery order, similar to Luci’s, except according to the order, he had been set to deliver a pair of fuzzy, oversized dice. Dante climbed up onto her shoulder as she looked over the order and put it away. Upon inspecting the body, it appeared as if he hadn’t survived the bullet to his head.
“I’ll put one between his eyes for you, pard.” Luci closed his eyes with her hand and stood up. “Let’s find somewhere to sleep, Dante.”

Chapter Text

Guy had lent Arcade some old leather armor before they had set off to the REPCONN facility, although Arcade had insisted upon wearing his Followers lab coat over it.
The facility in question was a large, formidable concrete building that cast a huge shadow over the parking lot and warehouse buildings to the east, and left of Guy and Arcade as they headed over the overpass leading to the lot. A few Mr. Handy robots were still left floating around the building, still on their 200 year old routes and stained with fallout and other grime.
“Good day, Master!” One of them cheerily greeted as he floated past.
“Hello,” Guy smiled at the robot as it floated away.
“You realize they’re robots?”
“I like their little voices. I don’t like it so much when they refer to me as ‘master,’ though.”
“Creepy, right?”
They headed through the front door to find themselves in a small lobby, featuring a big rocket model in the middle with a plaque displayed beneath it. At the far end of the room, a larger Mr. Handy was floating, mostly still, but what Guy and Arcade noticed was the group of Fiends lying dead in front of a door just right to the entrance, with a terminal mounted next to it. Judging from the laser holes in them, the robots around there didn’t take kindly to violence.
“I've read about REPCONN. I think they did some work with the E...government before the war. Rockets and some energy weapon prototypes, I think.” Guy was surprised to hear Arcade speak about the place as he looked around.
“What kind of prototypes?”
“Plasma rifles. They were intended to replace the P94 plasma caster. There was some corporate espionage going on between Poseidon Energy's Project SEMELE and whatever was going on here.”
“Project SEMELE?”
“Another one of Poseidon Energy's many secret weapons projects. Before the Great War. It didn't go anywhere. That's how REPCONN got their shot. So to speak.”
“Huh. I’ve heard of Poseidon Energy, the ones who set up that solar panel farm down the highway. Odd combination, them and REPCONN.”
“Yep. They probably had to go up against them, or with them, whatever worked. REPCONN went through some rough times. When their rocket business was shaky, Mr. House purchased the company.”
“Hm. So, there’s a…chance we could find a prototype, then. That could net us quite a neat profit.” Guy thought for a moment. “So, Arcade, where exactly did you learn all this?”
Arcade stared blankly at Guy for a minute before replying, “Could you just stop thinking, please? Thanks.”
Guy was a bit taken aback by how blunt Arcade was, so much so that Arcade was able to just keep talking through his shock.
“So, prototypes. It’s probably in the back, and probably protected by robots who don’t know the world has pretty much ended for them. Judging by the bodies.”
“Hm.”
“Hm indeed.” Arcade looked past the rocket and at the robot against the far wall. “Wanna see what that Mr. Handy over there is about? He’s, I mean, it's sort of just been floating there and staring at us.”
They walked up to the robot, which greeted them when it detected them approaching.
“Welcome to REPCONN Headquarters, Rocketeer! Come all this way to see our little facility, have you? I'm here to answer any and all questions you may have, within specified parameters, and if you'd like, I can provide a tour of our museum.” The larger Mr. Handy sounded slightly more tinny and robotic in tone than the others.
“...I don’t like it.”
“Let’s just...go with it.” Guy turned to the robot. “I’d like a tour of the museum.”
“Excellent, excellent! Please be patient, the tour will begin in just a moment!” The robot went quiet and seemed to be processing the request before continuing. “Ready for the REPCONN tour, Rocketeers? Courtesy of the fine folks at RobCo, I'll be your guide today on the path of…” The robot paused, seemingly to add dramatic effect. “Scientific. Discovery.”
The robot turned to Guy’s left and pushed open the wooden doors on the wall, leading Guy, Arcade, and Chico inside.
There were a few displays in the next room, obviously meant to be part of the tour. It stopped at the first display on the left, which was a long, rectangular, stone display, which must have had a glass pane covering it. Curiously, the glass was broken, and the display was empty. A plaque lay beside it, like the other exhibits.
“In the lead-lined case behind me is a spent radioactive rod from one of our old reactors. No need to stand too close, let's move along, shall we?”
The Mr. Handy nudged Guy along, prompting him to turn to the right wall and led him over to another display. The other podium displayed three different colored and differently sized barrels.
“Look here - a row of multi-colored plasma fuels! Careful, they may look safe to drink, but your stomach is the last place they should be. Why the difference in cylinder size? Refining our production methods has resulted in higher yields of fuel over time, that's why!”
The Mr. Handy moved on to the opposite end of the room and stopped between two displays - On the left were three orange and white metal barrels on a stone pedestal, and on the right, a pedestal with a pile of tiny, significantly more dirty barrels on top of it.
“To my right you can see a sample of some old ‘safety barrels’ REPCONN once used to store radioactive waste. Perfectly safe! On my left is an example of a mountain of REPCONN safety barrels some legislators claim are poisoning our environment. Ridiculous.”
“Yeah. REPCONN weren’t keen on safety regarding disposal of radioactive waste. If it cost too much, anyway.” Arcade added more quietly, looking past Guy at the barrels.
The Mr. Handy slowly turned towards Arcade, its voice lowering as it spoke to him. “Sir, if you have any complaints, you may make them at the end of the tour.”
“...Okay?”
“Delightful! Let’s move on!”
The robot quickly turned towards the right wall, where another set of doors lay, and pushed them open, leading them into the next room, turning right at the entrance and stopping in front of a model rocket.
“Behind me is our most recent rocket project, which we're keeping under our hats...until 'launch,' if you'll pardon the expression.”
The robot floated to the left of the door and hovered in front of a sort of dome model.
“And in front of me is a model - not actual size - of the launch dome we are using to send our rockets screeeeaming into orbit.”
The robot turned towards the opposite wall, where some more different model rockets were displayed.
“Now these colorful fellows behind me are REPCONN's earliest...experiments in flight. Feel free to read the plaques and learn, Rocketeers!”
“That’s what I meant when I said their rocket projects sort of...crashed. Literally and figuratively.” Arcade spoke up again. “Each rocket here was a failure. It’s a little sad, honestly. Led to them being bought out by RobCo. They just couldn’t afford to keep experimenting without the merger.”
“Sir-” The robot began.
“I know, no complaints from me.” Arcade quickly cut off the Mr. Handy, then lowered his voice as he turned to Guy. “This robot is creeping me out.”
“Me too. Let’s just keep going,” Guy replied.
Chico growled, seemingly voicing his agreement.
The robot paused, its mechanical eye set on Guy and Arcade for a minute, then continued. “Now for the highlight of our tour! Due to a generous donation from RobCo, this next exhibit showcases the wondrous world of - robots!”
The robot turned towards the right wall and pushed through another set of doors into the next room of the tour.
On the left, nearest to the door, was a large, bulky Sentry bot on display, while the nearest to the door on the right was an odd, round robot with spines coming out the back, displayed on a pedestal and a large rod sticking out the top. In one far corner was a Mr. Handy, and across from it, some kind of protectron model fitted with treads. Thankfully, each robot seemed to be disabled and simply used for display.
“Around you are the incredible Eyebot, the fearsome Sentry Bot, and,” The robot chuckled, or sounded like it was chuckling, “the always-helpful Mr. Handy. That helpfulness runs through our whole line!”
Arcade stared almost wistfully at the eyebot, “An eyebot. I haven’t seen one in a while. This must have been an early model.”
“Where did you see one last?” Guy walked over to the eyebot and inspected it.
“Um…” Arcade paused. “A…book. I saw one in a book. Since I read. Books.”
“Alright…” Guy poked the Eyebot.
“NO TOUCHING THE EXHIBITS.” The robot barked suddenly.
Guy jumped up, startled. “Shit! Oh, uh, sorry?”
The robot paused, then continued. “Come along! The last part of the tour is just ahead.”
It pushed open a set of doors on the left wall, and entered a large room that featured a large model of the solar system, lit by the model sun, with little model rockets hung from the ceiling. Much like the Mr. Handys outside, they continued down the set path they had traveled repeatedly for 200 years.
“This is the final stop on our tour. This model of our solar system is a small example of where the partnership between RobCo and REPCONN hopes to go. See those little rockets zipping about? They are manned by robots, tirelessly looking for resources to mine on planets beyond our own. And that's it for our tour today, Rocketeers - RobCo and its tiny partner REPCONN thank you! Any further questions, please, feel free to ask.”
“I, uh. I think we’ll be leaving. Goodbye,” Guy replied nervously.
“Goodbye, Rocketeer, be sure to visit again!” The robot’s voice lowered before continuing, “Oh, and please - for your own safety, stay outside of restricted areas.”
“Right.” Guy leaned over and pointed at the maintenance door on the wall, breaking the illusion of the night sky. “Is that a restricted area?”
The robot paused. “Sorry, I don’t understand that question. I can answer whatever questions you'd like, provided your query is limited to REPCONN history, research and development, or RobCo.”
“...Okay. Well…nevermind.”
“Very well! Goodbye, Rocketeer!” The Mr. Handy floated past them and back to the lobby.
Guy looked after the robot, waiting until he couldn’t hear it, then turned to Arcade.
“Let’s look at that door!”
“I really hope it doesn’t trip an alarm. Or…something.”
Guy led the way over to the door and tried it to find it was, surprisingly, unlocked. He drew his pistol and slowly open the door, making sure it didn’t alarm any of the robots, as Arcade suspected. Thankfully, it didn’t seem to do anything.
They headed up a short flight of stairs to a control room, where a long-dead skeleton was lying on the ground in front of a control panel. On the control panel lay a large, red keycard. Guy took it and looked it over.
“This was Jenny Millet’s keycard. Apparently.”
“And this was probably Jenny Millet.” Arcade looked at the skeleton Guy had stepped over. “Anyway, that keycard is probably our way into the restricted areas. Thank god for that. I really don’t want to see what those robots are like when they’re actually triggered.”
“I couldn’t agree more.” Guy pocketed the keycard. “Let’s go.”
They headed back to the lobby, where the tour guide Mr. Handy had returned near the front desk, idling, and headed for the locked door.
“Looks like there’s a slot for the keycard on the terminal.” Arcade tapped the side of the wall-mounted terminal.
“Let’s see if this still works, then.” Guy inserted the card into the slot on the bottom of the terminal, just above the extendable keyboard.
After a tense moment waiting for the terminal to scan it, it seemed the card was authorized, and a moment after Guy took it back, the door opened.
“I…can’t say I actually expected the keycard or the scanner to be in good enough condition.” Arcade shrugged. “I’m glad to be wrong, though.”
“I must say, I am, too. Do you think it’ll work for the rest of the building?” Guy put away the card.
“Probably not. So, let’s keep an eye out for any others.”
They headed into the next room, a small office with a desk, a terminal atop it, some shelves, and some Protectron docks. Guy found himself concerned by the fact that they were empty.
Arcade tried the metal door along the right wall and turned to Guy. “Do you think you could get past this lock?”
“One moment.” Guy headed down and kneeled down to take a look at the lock. “The ones on these mechanical metal doors are a little tricky. Usually find ‘em in vaults. But, sure, just give me a minute.”
Guy grabbed a bobby pin from a pouch on his belt and his combat knife and got to work on the lock. After a moment, Arcade interrupted.
“Uh, Guy?”
He turned to see a Mr. Handy had floated in from a doorway on the far end of the room. It stopped upon seeing them.
“It…should be fine?”
After a moment, the Mr. Handy spoke. “Unauthorized facial pattern detected. Valid security badge detected. Temporary access granted. Please complete employee registration with security.”
It turned and floated back through the doorway. Arcade sighed and turned back to Guy.
“No pressure, but, er, how much longer?”
“Just a moment.” Guy continued working at the lock before finally getting it open. “Okay. Got it.”
The door opened into what appeared to be an undisturbed storage room, with plenty of microfusion cells, a plasma rifle, some medical supplies, and some valuable parts on a shelf with a toolbox. Guy picked up the plasma rifle and looked it over.
“Huh. For something left in here for a couple centuries, this is in pretty good condition.” He held it out to Arcade, handle first. “You want it? I’ll bet it packs more of a punch than that Plasma Defender. Saves more on ammo, too.”
“Really?” Arcade took it. “You…don’t want to sell it?”
“Think of it like an investment.” Guy smiled and gestured to the microfusion cells. “Make sure you grab these. You won’t have to worry about ammo for a while.”
“Jeez. Sure won’t.” While Arcade grabbed the Microfusion Cells, Guy grabbed some conductors off the shelf. Somewhat heavy, but they were fairly highly valued for their use in robot repairs, so they were worth the extra weight.
“There’s some Med-X and a Stimpak here.” Arcade added as he looked over the medical supplies left in a first aid kit. “Do you have anywhere in your pack for them?”
“Sure.” Guy slipped off his backpack after he placed the Conductors inside and grabbed his first aid kit from inside.
“What do you have in there, by the way?” Arcade handed over the medical supplies to Guy to put into his own kit.
“In the backpack or the first aid box?
“Both, I guess.”
“Lot of stuff in the backpack. Some essentials, and some things I’ve yet to sell. In the First-aid box, some alcohol, gauze, stimpaks. You can work with those, right?”
“Sure. I just hope we won’t have to use them anytime soon.”
“Couldn’t agree more.” Guy slung the backpack on and stood up. “Alright, so, I noticed something in the hallway that robot came from.”
At the end of the hallway the robot had come from was another metal door with a terminal beside it. Guy tried the keycard, found it was unauthorized, and turned to Arcade.
“You think you can open it?”
Arcade sighed and ran his hand through his hair, “I don’t know. I know a bit about programming, but not a lot.”
He spent a good minute or two at the computer before stepping back.
“Sorry, the security on this is…way beyond what I can handle.”
“Don’t apologize.” Guy leaned over and looked at the lock. “Try shooting that with the plasma rifle.”
Arcade held up the plasma rifle and shot at the lock. It didn’t work.
“Wow. Even I thought that would work.” Arcade frowned and knocked on the door. “This is especially reinforced.”
“Maybe we can find another entrance.” Guy looked at the doorway on the right way, leading to a flight of stairs.
“Maybe. Let’s not get our hopes up.”
They headed up the stairs, to a landing, and walked up the rest of the stairs to a door. They pushed open the door to be greeted by a rather terrifying poster with large, unblinking eyes upon it, still hanging on the wall of the hallway it opened up into. The hallway stretched off to the left and to the right. When Guy turned the corner to the right, he saw that where a flight of stairs had been was now filled with crumbled rock and concrete.
“No go?”
“Doesn’t look like it.” Guy returned to the hallway.
“Okay. Um, in that other hallway, it looks like the walls have crumbled. Leads to a generator room, or a control room, or something. There’s a desk with a working terminal, I think.”
“Great job! Let’s see what that’s about.”
“You don’t have to congratulate me for everything, you know.”
“I can see you smiling.” Guy chided, grinning.
“Yeah, because…”
Guy saw another Mr. Handy floating down the hallway and grabbed Arcade’s arm to pull him past the crumbled walls and into the office. Thankfully, the Mr. Handy didn’t seem to see them as it rounded the corner and floated to the stairs to the first floor. Guy sighed and released Arcade’s arm.
“Sorry, I should have been paying attention.” Arcade rubbed his arm.
“You don’t have to apologize. Is your arm…?”
“It’s a lot better than being shot with a laser.”
“Heh. I guess so.” Guy turned to the desk with a functioning terminal. “Are you gonna try it?”
“Sure. I think it’s locked, but I might be able to get past the security.”
Guy grabbed the fission battery off the desk and some caps from its drawers before Arcade spoke up again.
“Ah, hey, Guy.”
“Hm?” Guy looked over Arcade’s shoulder at the terminal.
“As it turns out, this Terminal lets you add your facial patterns to the system’s database.”
Guy blinked.
“The robots will think you’re part of the REPCONN workforce. I think it’ll assign our faces to Jenny Millet’s keycard.”
“Oh!”
“Alright, stay still.” Arcade clicked the command, pulling Guy a bit closer to the terminal, then relaxed. “We should be good now.”
“I knew I wasn’t making a mistake bringing you along.” Guy smiled and slapped Arcade on the back. “Now we can search this floor, at least.”
“Exactly.” Arcade stood up. “So…what are we looking for?”
“Well, as a general rule of thumb, if a door’s locked, it’s usually to protect something worth protecting. Here, specifically, we’ll likely find some parts that are still in good shape. So, anything like this.” Guy held up the fission battery. “Batteries, those conductors we saw earlier. Sensor modules are fairly valuable, too. They’re little black boxes, usually with red and yellow wires sticking out of them.”
“I’ll keep an eye out for those.” Arcade followed Guy and Chico into the hallway again. “I found some evidence of that Poseidon espionage.”
“That so?”
“Apparently the owner of that terminal was a Ms. Wang. She was suspecting someone of sending info to Poseidon.”
“Hm. It’s odd, seeing things like that.”
“Corporate espionage?”
“Somewhat, it’s just…seeing things that were clearly very important for people before the War, and now…it just doesn’t matter anymore.”
“Yeah. I suppose it makes you think about how…fleeting it all is. I guess.”
Guy opened a door into a small office and went to check the desks. “It’s almost nice to think about. All of your problems just disappearing.”
“Well, that typically resulted in them also disappearing. Along with everything and everyone they knew and loved. The price sounds a little too steep for me.”
“Good point. They’d be too far gone to care at that point, though.” Guy closed the desk he was searching and stopped. “Sorry, I just…realized how, er, concerning that sounds.”
“It’s fine. I don’t think you’re gonna do anything you’ll regret, anyway.” Arcade paused. “Are you?”
“Heh. No, it’s…I’m fine, nowadays, anyway. Sorry to worry you.”
“Worrying about people’s health is sort of my job, so…don’t worry about it.” Arcade shrugged ambivalently.
“See, I knew I’d need a strong, handsome doctor to keep an eye on me.” Guy grinned as Arcade approached, glancing at the broken terminals.
“Pfft.” Arcade cracked a bit of a smile. “Yeah, okay.”
After searching the rest of the floor and finding a few more parts they could sell, and some more ammunition for energy weapons, as well as a locked terminal within a locked room that Arcade seemed to crack with ease.
“What’s in there?”
“Nothing that can help us, if that’s what you’re wondering, but some interesting information about that prototype. It’s pretty much an upgraded plasma rifle. Fires faster, longer range, better charge, but it’s less durable and it holds less Microfusion Cells.”
“Interesting. And it’s definitely a unique prototype?”
“Looks like it. It’s less durable because it was the first working prototype, so if there are any other versions of it, there aren’t many. It’s definitely worth a lot, if that’s what you’re asking.”
“Great.” Guy pat Arcade on the back again. “Let’s check the next floor, then.”
“Right. Did you ever get that other door open?”
“Nah, that was…a particularly complicated lock. There’s a card scanner next to it, but the one we have now wasn’t authorized to open it. I found another card in one of the offices, but that didn’t work either.”
“You found another card?”
Guy held out the card. Arcade took it and looked it over.
“Hm…yeah, this looks like Ms. Millet’s card. Probably not any more authorized than her’s. If we check the top floor, we might find a card that is. Then again, we’ll have to risk those robots getting triggered, if they see us up there.”
“I’ll take that risk!” Guy stood up.
“Yeah, of course you will.” Arcade sighed and stood up from the desk.
“Well, I wouldn’t mind if you stayed here until everything’s safe upstairs.”
“No, I signed up for this.” Arcade checked his plasma rifle, making sure it was loaded, and turned back to Guy. “Are we going?”

The stairs to the top floor opened into another small lobby with two doors on the opposite wall, leading into two bathrooms, previously separated by a wall that had crumbled a long time ago. The wall on the far left had also partially fallen, leading into a large office, with a large desk and a terminal in somewhat good condition atop it. Arcade took a look at it.
“...Okay, I can already tell they’re using a better security system for this. I don’t think I’d be able to get past it, but I can give it a try if you want.”
“Hm. Not for now. Let’s see if we actually need to first.”
They approached the door leading out of the office, into a large hallway with a particularly fallen ceiling to the left, as Guy could see through the broken panes on the door. A Mr. Handy was patrolling up and down the hallway. As it floated past the door, Arcade pointed at the left hallway.
“Something on the ground there.” He whispered, glancing through the glass in the door again.
“Got it. Chico, stay.”
Guy made sure the Mr. Handy had turned a corner before quickly and quietly slipping through the door and looking to the left to see Arcade had been pointing at a silver briefcase near the fallen ceiling, next to a long-dead skeleton. He grabbed the briefcase and ducked back into the office just before the Mr. Handy returned to the hallway. Guy peeked out of the room, waiting until the Mr. Handy had floated away again before kneeling down and opening the briefcase. Arcade sighed in relief and approached him.
“What’s in it?”
“Quite a bit of pre-war money. Shame we can’t use it…Oh, and a card!” Guy held up the card triumphantly.
“Oh, thank god.” Arcade sighed again. “Doing that regularly…can’t be good for your health.”
“I’m well aware!” Guy continued jovially as he stood up and looked at the card. “Looks like it was…Piers Isley’s card.”
“Thank you, Piers Isley.” Arcade stood up in turn and slowly opened the door as the Mr. Handy returned, still holding his plasma rifle. “Let’s see if it works.”
The Mr. Handy floated up, paused upon seeing them, and greeted them politely, “Hello, Mr. Isley, I hope you have an excellent day at work today.”
“Thank you!”
“You are very welcome, sir!” The Mr. Handy turned and floated away.
“...It’s a little sad. That they’re just…stuck in their own little world forever. But I guess it would be worse if they could somehow comprehend reality.” Arcade added quietly.
“Ignorance is bliss, after all.”
“Well, if you’re privileged enough that ignorance is an option, then, sure.” Arcade looked back at the fallen part of the ceiling, where they could just step past the rubble and into the rest of the hallway. “Oh.”
“What is it?” Guy followed him to find he was looking at the body of a man in power armor, leaning against the wall, as well as the body of another man in power armor crushed by the fallen ceiling. Their power armor looked to be severely damaged by some kind of concentrated energy weapon fire, and the men seemed to have taken off their helmets before they died, revealing the face of a dark-haired, pale young man leaning against the wall, and a young black man with a shaved head, crushed under the roof.
“They haven’t been dead too long.” Arcade kneeled down next to the body. “...His face is really pale. So he, and presumably his friend, had enough time for the blood to pool at the bottom of their bodies. Putrefaction hasn’t set in yet for either of them, so they haven’t been dead longer than 3, 4 days.”
“Who were they, then?” Guy questioned, stepping over the body of the poor, crushed man.
Arcade squinted suspiciously at the man’s armor. “That’s weird. I think…the only group I can think of that has access to this model of power armor around here would be the Brotherhood of Steel. But I thought the chapter around here was pretty…isolationist. No one’s seen them since after the NCR took Helios One from them.”
“Maybe they’re sending out scouts to gather information. I assume if they anyone here, it was to look into the prototype.”
“Looks like they didn’t make it all the way.”
“Wonder if either of them have anything on him hinting at what he was looking for.” Guy paused. “Hm. One moment…”
Guy carefully looked for the release mechanism on the paler young man’s back and activated it, releasing the body from the suit.
“...Whaaaat are you doing?” Arcade sounded more concerned than ever.
“I’m just looking to see if he has any pockets on him.” Guy opened up one of the many pouches on the man’s bodysuit and pulled a holotape from it.
“Huh. I suppose that’s his report.”
Guy retrieved his radio and inserted the holotape. The background static of the recording stuttered to life after a moment, and an older man’s voice broke through the mild static.
“..Mission Code, XV-56. Temporary Password: Lives to fight another day. Summary: Paladins Matiz and Lander, you are to survey the ruins at coordinates 0.004, 9.265, search for the components we need, and retrieve what you can. As a secondary objective, compile a list of additional items at the site for future retrieval. McNamara.”
The recording stopped.
“Components? So they weren’t looking for the prototype?” Guy ejected the holotape and put it away.
“I guess not. Or…maybe they were, and just wanted to use it for its parts, to learn from it…or, knowing the Brotherhood, just to make sure no one else had it.”
Guy sighed deeply and stood up. “Jesus. They both look so young. I…it doesn’t feel right that they died for this.”
“People have died for a lot less.” Arcade stood up as well. “But…yeah. It really is a shame. Let’s just check the rest of this floor, see if we can find anything else.”
They headed further down the hall and into a much larger office, with a giant desk stretching across most of it, piled with papers alongside a bottle of whiskey and a flickering terminal. Arcade circled around to the terminal and logged in. “Looks like it’s unlocked. And that it unlocks a safe in here.”
“Can’t hurt. Anything else?”
“Well, this was Piers’s terminal. Looks like all of these security measures were RobCo’s idea, when the merger happened. So, send your thanks for all this to Mr. House.”
“I’ll be sure to bring my complaints directly to the Lucky 38 when I get into the Strip.” Guy turned to the back wall of the office, finding that it had crumbled almost completely, leading into a back room. It appeared to house a generator, a filing cabinet, and the aforementioned safe, though there wasn’t much of value inside other than a good chunk of caps.
“I guess there isn’t much here. Other than that card.” Arcade shrugged. “What say we try that keycard for the locked door downstairs?”

Piers’s keycard worked, and successfully unlocked the door on the second floor when inserted into the slot next to it. It opened into a significantly darkened room, where it seems even the long-lasting backup lights had failed. To the left, filing cabinets were squeezed around a thick pillar, and on the left side of the room, the floor had collapsed, taking most of the filing cabinets with it.
“Is, uh, that safe?” Arcade questioned nervously as Guy started picking his way down the debris to the lower floor.
“Sure! I mean, I’ve navigated more dangerous old buildings.”
“...That’s, uh…” Arcade sighed. “Okay.”
Halfway down, Guy turned and noticed that, very luckily, the debris had just spared a large, glowing metal cylinder with open sides. A plasma rifle lay on the bottom of it, in surprisingly good condition, with red paint and glowing valves on the side setting it apart from other rifles of its kind.
“Arcade! Come down!”
“...If you insist.”
Arcade warily stepped over to the hole in the floor and carefully picked his way down the debris. As he approached the floor, Guy held out a hand.
“I’m, uh, I’m okay.” Arcade slipped a bit, quickly caught himself with his other foot, and froze for a moment. “Okay! Yep, I’m okay. Oh, wow, is that the prototype?”
Chico barked at the top of the hole.
“You can wait up there, boy!”
Chico barked again and trotted away from the hole.
“Good boy!”
Guy suddenly heard the clacking of Chico’s claws against the floor.
“What is he doing?” Arcade looked at Guy.
“Oh, SHIT! CHICO!”
Chico ran to the side of the hole and flung himself off. Guy quickly rushed to his destination and caught him just before he crashed into the floor, stumbling back and falling against the wall, gasping as Chico knocked the air out of him.
“Oh my god!” Arcade jumped upon seeing Chico slam against Guy, then rushed over. “Are you okay?!”
Guy took a few breaths, then chuckled hoarsely. Arcade paused, cracked a grin, and started chuckling as well, before they both started cackling uncontrollably. Chico regained his footing and stood up, looking between them and looking quite happy with the mood.
After a minute, Guy took a moment to breathe and calm down.
“Oooh, holy shit. I saw my life flash before my eyes.”
“Why-” Arcade choked back another guffaw and pushed up his glasses to wipe his eyes. “Why did he do that?”
“Well, I forgot he’s used to me catching him if he has to make a jump. It’s been a while since I had to do that for him.”
“That’s…” Arcade calmed down completely and took a breath. “Oh my god. Okay, I have never seen a dog do that.”
“Well, Chico is a special boy.” Guy slowly stood up. “Oh, jeez, Chico, your dad’s getting too old for that.”
Chico barked happily, his tongue lolling.
“Okay. What about that Prototype?”
Arcade stepped over to the modified plasma rifle and picked it up, looking it over. “Says here on the side it’s called the…’Q-35 Matter Modulator.’”
“Heheh. Sounds like…an alien weapon, or something.”
“I guess so.” Arcade paused. “Hm. You know, I think a lot of men get way too attached to their guns, but this is…pretty nice-looking, actually.”
“Well, now you understand.”
“Pfft. Not completely. Don’t take me for a gun nut.” Arcade held the rifle out to Guy. “Anyway, here. I’d say the hardest part of this is gonna be finding someone who can pay you enough for this.”
“Well, that’s always a problem with high-value finds.” Guy took the rifle and put it away in his backpack. “But I would easily still call this a success.”
“No doubt about that. So, we’re leaving?”
“Doesn’t seem like we’d find much else of value here. Nothing more than this, anyway. Let’s go.” Guy headed for the metal door leading out to the rest of the first floor to find it also had a terminal mounted next to it on the inside. The only command was to unlock the door.
“By the way, I’ve been meaning to ask. You’ve been putting away some of the caps in a different, er, pocket on your bag.” Arcade pointed at the backpack.
“Oh, right! I found a good few star bottle caps here.”
“Star…oh, like the Sunset Sarsaparilla ones, right?”
“Precisely.”
“How long have you been collecting them?”
“Well, I started collecting them just because I thought they were just cute, you know?”
“I don’t know how a cap can be cute, but…sure, I guess I know.”
“I only learned about that rumor surrounding them a couple years ago. Since then, I’ve been robbed for them…what, 5, 6 times? Most of them unsuccessful, the others, I managed to keep some of them.”
“All that for some caps?”
“Well, you’ve surely heard of the treasure?”
“Sure, but, I can’t imagine it’s worth it.” Arcade paused as they reached the lobby. “There’s someone restocking the machines, too, right?”
“Old Festus.”
“Huh. If he’s that old, he’s probably a robot.”
“Not a ghoul?”
“A ghoul would’ve given up a while ago, and he would’ve made a lot more mistakes. Restocking machines consistently every year for two centuries would probably require the precision of a robot.”
“I didn’t think of that.” Guy shrugged. “I’m a little disappointed.”
“That’s life.”
Guy opened the front door to find that night had already fallen. It wasn’t as quiet as it was out in the desert proper, as the noise and light pollution from Vegas could just reach the edges of the surrounding ruins. Arcade stepped out with him.
“Oh, wow. I didn’t even notice it got this late.”
“Time gets difficult to discern in those big, old buildings.” Guy looked up. “Well, as much as I like to camp outside, I think it’d be safer if we sleep in the lobby. Anyone that tries to get in will have to get past the robots.”
“Yeah. It feels like a tomb, but a tomb’s safer than outside.” Arcade shrugged. “Do you have anything to eat, by the way?”
“Sure. How do you feel about canned beans?”
“...I mean, I’ll eat it.”

They decided to set up camp in one of the second floor offices, feeling the robots kept them safer up there. As Guy unpacked, he realized he only had one sleeping bag.
“Hm. Remind me to grab some camping supplies for you when we go to Mick and Ralph’s.”
“Right. I…should’ve thought of that. Do you have anything else I can sleep on?”
“Oh, you can have my sleeping bag.”
“Are you sure?”
“I toured with the NCR for most of my life, I’m used to sleeping on the ground.”
“...Alright. Thanks.” Arcade took the sleeping bag when Guy handed it over and rolled it out.
Guy laid out the blanket he usually gave Chico as Arcade took off the leather armor he’d put on over his shirt.
“Alright. Does Chico know to alert us if anyone gets in?”
“I doubt they’ll get far past the robots, but yes, Chico’s good about that.”
Arcade laid down on the sleeping bag while Guy took off his duster and vest. “Good. Okay. It’s, er…been a while since I’ve slept anywhere outside the fort.”
“Well, don’t worry. You and Chico are my first priorities.”
“Thanks.” Arcade paused as Guy laid on the blanket, propping his head up on his backpack. “This, uh…this was fun. I mean, the last part, mainly. But…yeah. Not as bad as I thought.”
Guy smiled. “I’m glad to hear it. I suppose you’ll be staying, then?”
“Sure.”
“See you tomorrow, then. G’night.”
“Good night.”

Luci woke up to Dante gnawing on her nose. She waved him away and sat up on her bedroll as he stepped to the side, meowing plaintively.
“Ugh, shit, Dante, can’t you just lick me or something?”
He meowed again.
“Yep, I get it. If you’re hungry, just go…pick at the dead guys down there.”
Dante stared at her a moment longer, and, upon realizing she wasn’t going to give him any treats, he turned and headed downstairs.
Luci had slept on the second floor of one of the ruined buildings by the NCR camp. She figured that the soldiers would catch any raiders that got too close, and it seemed she was right. She checked her pip-boy to see it was around 7 in the morning. She had got to sleep pretty early last night.
When she came downstairs, she found that Hayes was outside his tent, smoking by the barrel fire while the morning was still cool. He saw her come downstairs.
“Hey, man.” She grinned and waved lackadaisically.
“...So…Private Wells said you shot out our mines.” He tossed the cigarette on the ground and stamped it out as she approached.
“Yep.”
“...And that you cleared out the Bison Steve.”
“Uh-huh.”
“...Well, I guess…that takes care of that. But Primm still needs a sheriff.”
“Mmhm. Did ya think the NCR could take care ‘o that?”
Hayes sighed heavily and crossed his arms contemplatively. “We know Primm is a great strategic point, and we aren't blind to the needs of the town, but we're barely holding our own against the Powder Gangers. We don't have the guns or the personnel needed to carry out our mission, much less take on defending this town as well.”
“Yeah, that’s what I thought.” Luci shrugged. “Too bad.”
“...Say, are you going South?”
“Sure, why?”
“One of my men saw a man with a…flying robot heading that way?”
“A flying robot? Well, that’s certainly something.”
“Well, apparently he got it out of the Mojave Express outpost here. I’m not too sure if he just stole it from Mr. Nash, but, if you find him, can you just make sure there isn’t a, er…misunderstanding? I imagine Nash wouldn’t be too happy about something that valuable just being stolen from him.”
“Oh, well, sure, I’ll ask ‘im about it if I see him.”
“Right, thanks. And…if at all possible, could you ask Knight up at the Mojave Outpost if the NCR can spare just one more squad for us down here?”
“If I get the chance.”
“Thanks. With a little more manpower, we could install a sheriff and still focus on protecting the interstate.”
Luci wasn’t sure how they were protecting the interstate now, but she didn’t want to argue with Hayes about it. She also wasn’t really sure that the NCR would be all that capable of protecting Primm, so she decided to leave the Sheriff problem for now, and once she’d collected Dante again and ate something, she headed South, down the interstate.
On her way south, she encountered a patrol station with some dead raiders strewn about outside. She decided to continue past them, figuring that whoever had killed them had probably looted the place, as well.
She instead deferred her attention to a small rest station, further up the interstate and along a higher road, infested by scorpions scuttling between the gas pumps. Their shells were pretty tough for smaller caliber guns to get through, but most couldn’t stand up against lasers, and so she made quick work of them.
She paused outside the gas station for a moment to get her bearings. A little further ahead on the interstate lay an intersection, the road east leading out to a town in the distance, across a huge, dried out lake and next to the hills around Black Mountain to the North. Concerningly, smoke was rising from multiple places within the town, high enough to just about lick the clouds before it dissipated. To the right, atop a tall hill and past a highway littered with old cars, lay the Mojave Outpost, marked by the giant statue made of scrap metal, depicting two rangers shaking hands. Luci always thought it was a little gaudy.
The small rest stop was much quieter inside than it was outside. The only moving things within before Luci and Dante entered were the dust particles floating about, illuminated by the sunlight streaming through the windows. At the end of the rest stop, behind the counter, lay a gun cabinet, some sacks of food, and a box of ammunition. Considering the sacks and the ammo box weren’t covered in a layer of dust, like everything else inside the rest stop, someone had placed them there relatively recently. She pocketed the ammunition, but decided to leave the shotgun she saw in the gun cabinet. She was never too good with shotguns, and it wasn’t in good enough condition to sell for a whole lot.
In the cash register on the countertop, she found a decent stash of caps, and next to it, a bottle of vodka and a journal. She bagged the vodka and took a look at the most recent entry in the journal, dated only a few days ago.
Sounded like a mystery Legion man named “Mr. Fox” had approached the mayor of Nipton about laying a trap for some NCR troops and a gaggle of Powder Gangers. Mayor Steyn sounded like a jackass. But something about Mr. Fox made him sound like some real bad news. Probably had something to do with that smoke coming from town. Luci pocketed the journal, just in case she needed to look back on the info in there.
Just as she stepped out of the rest stop, she almost ran into a man seemingly waiting at the door. He flinched and stepped back when she pulled her pistol, holding his hands up.
“Oh, shit!”
“Who are you, and what the fuck d’you want?”
“Name’s M-Malcolm. Malcolm Holmes.” Malcolm was an old black man with a thick, but decently-maintained white beard and dark eyebags that betrayed his exhaustion and his age.
“And?”
“A-and, well, I thought I’d ask ya to trade, miss. I'm missing a few essentials and…” He trailed off, looked at the ground and sighed. “Oh, screw this. Lying just ain't in my nature.” He stood up and looked back at Luci. “I'll tell it to you straight. I've been following you for a good bit now.”
“Why.”
“It started off innocently enough. I was traveling, as I often do, and happened to observe you picking up one of those blue-star caps. You didn't show any reaction to it, so I figured you didn't know what you'd gotten your hands on.”
“And what have I gotten my hands on?”
“There's an old wasteland legend that says somewhere out there is a fabulous treasure from before the war. Those caps with the blue star on them, the tale goes, are the key to that treasure. They're called Sunset Sarsaparilla Stars.”
“And why didn’t you tell me then and there?”
“I had to make sure of your disposition. There's a lot of jumpy folks out there that'd shoot a man as soon as talk to him. Now that's we're conversing, though, I can tell you what I know about those caps.”
Luci paused, then lowered her pistol. Malcolm just seemed like a tired old man, if a bit misguided in what he was doing.
“Alright, so…what kinda treasure we talkin’ here?”
Malcolm shrugged. “No one knows. Money? Weapons? Water? It is, or maybe was, something of value, and that's enough to get people motivated.”
“And where can I find more of ‘em?”
“All over the place. The easiest place to find them is unopened bottles of Sunset Sarsaparilla. You'd think they'd all have been picked clean by now, but somehow new bottles keep appearing in the machines. Some say it's old Festus that does it, hoping someone will finally collect enough caps to earn the treasure. Other than bottles, you'll just have to scavenge. You can find caps in the unlikeliest of places, and blue-star caps are no exception.”
“Alright. And, uh, who’s ‘Festus’?”
“It's said that the treasure is guarded by a man named Festus, and he's the one who asks for the blue-star caps. It's also said that he's been around since the war, standing a lonely vigil, waiting for someone to come and take the treasure off his hands. That'd make him pretty damn old, but I've met a few people in my travels who claimed they actually met him, and they weren't the lying type either.”
“Huh. Y’think he’s a ghoul or somethin’?”
“Maybe. If he’s that old, he’s gotta be.”
“I’m guessin’ you collect these things, too?”
Malcolm sighed deeply and crossed his arms. “Nah, I gave it up years ago. Too dangerous. And even if I did still collect them, I'd tell you the same. There's people out there so mad with the idea of treasure that they'll attack strangers just on the suspicion that they have some of those caps.”
“Jesus. Well, it’s nothing I can’t handle.” Luci adjusted her bag. “Thanks for lettin’ me know, but I gotta get going.”
“No problem. If you do end up trying to collect more stars, watch out for a man named Allen Marks. He's killed several people for their stars already.”
“I’ll keep an eye out. Thanks again, Holmes.” Luci tipped her hat, and Malcolm gave a friendly wave as they went their separate ways. She was just happy that hadn’t ended in anyone getting shot.
On her way there, Luci spotted a caravan around the intersection, between the old cars. They seemed stuck thinking of where to go.
Just under the scrap metal statue just outside and just outside the outpost itself, Luci was greeted by another NCR soldier, a middle-aged black man with a face worn more than others by his years, obscured by a dark, bushy beard.
“Coming from the North?” He commented, glancing up the road. “Must be crazy to brave those roads.”
“Heh, a little bit. What’s this place about, then?”
“Outpost, Mojave Outpost. Watching a lot of nothing, feels like a big Brahmin pen for caravans. They've been stopped for a while, waiting for the roads North to clear - or their clearance papers to go through. Look like you've walked a ways, so if you need to shake the dust off, head to the Barracks, the bar's there.” He pointed with his thumb behind him, presumably to the building closest to them. “Not much, but better than nothing.”
“And what’s up with those statues?” Luci glanced at the giant statues.
“Those two?” He followed her gaze and shrugged. “Represents unification. Mostly good for shade. Won't do much else when the Legion reaches us.”
Luci thought this guy was kind of a big downer just to be around.
“Soo…is there any work ‘round here?”
“Nothing I know of, but if you've come from the North, means you can travel freer than most around here.” He paused, stroking his beard contemplatively. “Might check the Barracks, someone might need you to hoof it somewhere. Just be careful if you go up on the roof - got a sniper watching the road. If your gear's in need of repair, HQ's also worth checking out - talk to Major Knight, he can help. Provided you got a pen and plenty of ink.”
“Could he exchange these dollars for me?” Luci fished out the NCR dollars Mr. Lewis had given her.
“Oh, sure, he can take care of that.”
“Great, I’ll get on that then.” She pocketed them again. “See ya.”
“Watch yourself.” He replied casually, grabbing a pack of cigarettes from one of the pouches on his uniform.

The main building, next to the barracks, was a busy, if somewhat boring place, mostly filled with desks and terminals. The man behind the front desk and in front of a large stack of cubbies was a rather pale, similarly downtrodden looking man who sounded the way he looked.
“Caravan, citizen, pilgrim, or...?”
“Uh, courier. Lucía Perez, if you need my name.”
He slowly picked up a clipboard on the counter as well as a pencil and wrote something down on a form. “Just need something for the log book, keeping tabs on traffic through the Outpost...although mostly just in, not out these days. If you're looking for the commanding officer, he's in the back.” He paused. “Although...he's got a lot on his plate, so if you speak with him...keep it short. Also, if you need any gear checked, we can get you up and running again... once you fill out the work orders, and sign for the parts, of course.”
“So, uh…are you Knight?”
“That’s me.”
“...Everyone here is kind of a fucking downer, man.”
Knight looked a little baffled at what she had said. “I…yeah, I guess. It’s not as if there’s much I can do about it.”
“Yeah. Sorry, man.”
“...Okay. Did you need to talk to me about something?”
“Yeah, can I get caps for these?” She placed the NCR bills on the counter. “I can’t really use ‘em anywhere.”
“Oh. Yeah. That’ll be 100 caps. Give a second.”
While he stepped away to the cubbies to get the caps, Luci continued.
“So, any way to help around here?”
“Help? Oh, well...” He grabbed a pouch of caps and thought for a moment before stepping back over to her. “You could speak to Ranger Jackson. He might have something for you. He sort of runs things around here, mostly ends up sending reports back West that aren't filled with the best news.”
“Alright, I’ll see what’s up with him.” Luci pointed at the pouch of caps. “That mine?”
“Yep.”
“Thanks, man.” She took the pouch of caps and pocketed thm. “Hey, do you wanna pet Dante?”
“What?” Knight furrowed his brow in confusion. “Who?”
“My cat.”
“Your what?”
Luci kneeled down to pick Dante off the ground, though he was a bit disgruntled about it, and placed him on the counter.
Knight blinked in disbelief. “What the hell is he?”
“I told you, a cat. Can you just watch ‘im while I talk to Jackson?”
“...Okay?”
“Thanks, man.” She slapped him on the shoulder over the counter and took a step towards the hall to the right before stopping and turning to him.
“Here?”
“...Uh, yeah. He’s the man in the Ranger uniform.”
“Got it.”
She didn’t actually know what a Ranger uniform looked like, but she assumed the guy in the big hat and with the big gold star pinned to his vest was Jackson. He also sported a pair of sunglasses and a large handlebar mustache. He turned to her upon stepping out into the hallway and raised a brow.
“Looks like we got a new visitor in the ol' Brahmin pen. Not many people coming here in a hurry, only passing through.”
“Hey. I was told to ask you if I could help out, work, anything?”
“Help? No, look, I apprec…” He trailed off, looking off at the wall, before nodding slowly and looking back at Luci. “You know, what, yes, I could use the help. And you look like you can handle yourself. I need to get the caravans moving again, that means clearing a path north. There's too much crawling the asphalt up the road to allow it.”
“Alright, sounds like somethin’ I can handle.”
“Thanks, I appreciate it. Come back here when you're done, I might accidentally ‘lose’ some supplies to pay you with.” He nodded curtly.
“I’ll see ya later, then.” Luci tipped her hat and turned back into the lobby.
Knight seemed to have had his spirits lifted a little by Dante, who was still sitting patiently on the counter and making his weird rumbling noise while Knight pet him. Knight quickly stood up when he saw Luci exit the hallway again.
“Oh, hey, did you talk to Jackson?”
“Sure did. Looks like Dante has been well taken care of.” She grabbed Dante and hefted him onto her shoulder.
“Right. Er, is he…supposed to be making that noise?”
“Oh, yeah. It means he’s happy. I think.”
“Oh, that’s…that’s nice.” Knight cracked a small smile.
“Yeah, he likes ya. Actually, do you mind if I leave ‘im here while I go to the barracks? I don’t want him gettin’ into anything he shouldn’t.”
“Of course not. He’s really…no problem.”
“Great.” Luci placed him back on the counter, where he yawned and immediately laid down. “If you give him some scraps of meat, by the way, he’ll love ya forever.”
“Really?”
“Sure. Keeps him behaving.” Luci scratched him behind the ears. “Anyway, see ya in a minute.”
“Uh-huh.” Knight already seemed distracted by Dante.

The main area of the barracks was actually a bar, run by a tall woman behind the counter, her eyes partially hidden by a baseball cap. Sitting at the bar were a couple of NCR troopers and a red-haired woman with a straw hat, a shotgun strapped to her back, and a bottle of whisky. Luci stepped up to the counter.
“New face in the Outpost, must've come from the North. So - what'll you have?”
“I was plannin’ on selling.”
“Then what d’you have?”

After Luci had sold what she wanted to, she had noticed that the red-haired woman had completely finished her bottle of whisky and placed her head upon the counter. She readjusted her bag and stepped over, prompting the woman to lift her head a bit and turn to Luci.
“Looking for trouble?”
“Wanted to ask about the outpost.”
“Got no time or answers for you. Ask a drifter in need of a few caps, they'll give you all the answers you need.”
“Are you alright, man?”
“All right?” She snorted and looked back at the counter. “No, I'm not all right. Drinking to forget, and it's only getting me mad instead. Whiskey always gets my temper up - now more than ever. Drinking used to cause all sorts of trouble back West - before I punched enough people, that is, and they learned to lay low when the whiskey hit.”
Luci grinned. “Heheh. Okay. Well, uh, what’re you tryin’ to forget, girl?”
“Lost my caravan heading north, the driver burned to ash - and they didn't even take the cargo, they just burned that, too.”
“Shit.” The grin fell off Luci’s face. “Who the hell’d do that?”
“My guess is Legion, they're trying to cut NCR's supply line...and the Mojave Outpost is proof. Got us locked up tighter than a New Vegas virgin. No caravans in, out, and just try arguing with Jackson about it. ‘Roads aren't safe,’ he says.” She snorted and suddenly smacked her hand on the counter, making Luci jump. “No shit, you washed-out old fuckup, I didn't need a Brotherhood Scribe to tell me that.”
“Jackson, huh?”
“NCR officer, trooper, whatever - runs the place. He's over in the main building, the one without a bar. Jackson won't let me head north, it's not safe...and even though my caravan's gone, my caravan papers are keeping me here. So if you came here for work, my advice? Go find the Crimson Caravan branch, south of Vegas. They can help you out.”
“Who’re you, anyhow?”
“Cassidy, to you.” She looked over at the bartender. “Hey! Lacey! Can I get another whisky?”
“Already?” Lacey sighed.
“It’s my caps, Lacey, just give me the fuckin’ whisky!”
“Yeesh. So, what can ya tell me about this here outpost?”
Cassidy shrugged indifferently. “You're looking at it. It's a watering hole without much to brag about. It's like a Brahmin drive gone wrong - supposed to be a gate north, but you come here, you get caught in the pen. Better to head back home. If you don't have a gun and a will, don't matter much what you do when you reach here, except stare at that fucking monument outside.”
“That fuckin’ monument outside?”
Cassidy snorted as she slapped her caps on the counter and took another bottle of whisky from Lacey. “Don't even tell me you missed it coming in. It's like NCR showing its dick to all the East. If the Republic put as much effort into protecting the East as they put into those two asinine giants outside, then they'd be worth that monument. Statues of two men shaking hands covered in blood don't seem to be nothing to brag about.”
Luci looked at the door, then at Cassidy. “Blood?”
Cassidy looked at Luci incredulously before opening her bottle and turning back to it. “I'm speaking figurative, isn't any blood on their damn hands. Course, when Caesar comes walking through here, there'll be blood for real. And after the blood dries in the sun, he'll melt that piece of Jet-induced sculpture down, and reshape it into a bull. Which by my reckoning is making up for a deficiency of his. But no matter what the state of his pecker, he's sure giving the West a good fucking.”
“You sure like talkin’ ‘bout dicks.”
“‘Cause whether you like it or not, most of the important men out here are motivated by ‘em. Whether it’s their own or others.” Cassidy took a swig of her whisky.
“So…what’re you doin’ in the bar?”
Cassidy sighed, suddenly sounding more melancholic. “Whiskey and me are old friends, keeps me going when times get rough. Like now. Got me into the caravan business, you know - had to start transporting water instead of liquor, though. If I hadn't switched over, I'd end my trip with nothing but glass bottles rattling on the back of the Brahmin.”
“D’ya know of any work ‘round here?”
She sighed ahead, more irritably this time, leaning her head on her hand. “I don't know, seems to be a lot of attention on Nipton. Word is, one of the snipers in the nest on the roof spotted smoke from the East.”
“There’s a sniper up there?” Luci looked up at the ceiling.
“Yeah, her name's...Ghost or something...fucking scary, ooooooh.” She waved her hands about in an exaggerated manner. “Guess it's cause you'll never see her 'til you’re dead. NCR and their goddamn nicknames, as if Caesar himself's gonna piss and run if he hears them. Anyway, go on and head up top, ask her what's going on, if you haven't already. I don't much give a shit.”
“Huh. Would ya give a shit if I bought us another drink?” Luci grinned and took off her hat.
“I don’t know who ‘us’ is.”
“I dunno. Maybe ya might wanna, uh…get to know someone ‘round here.”
“What?” Cassidy looked at Luci, then blinked and sat up. “Oh. Damn. I mean, Sometimes I get so drunk, I don't care who I share a bed with, so that's fine with me. You, I mean. As…a person.”
“...So…?”
Cassidy paused for a moment again, then snorted and shook her head dismissively. “Listen, I’m not in the fucking mood, okay? It’s been a bad few fuckin’ weeks, so…try when shit doesn’t suck, I guess.”
“Woof. Sorry, girl. It was worth a shot.” Luci put her hat back on. She didn’t know it was even possible for her to feel emasculated. “...Chao.”
“Uh, yeah, take care.”
Next to the entrance into the barracks, a couple of wooden ramps had been constructed to lead up to the rooftop, where a woman with a sniper rifle was camped out at the eastern end of the rooftop, looking out over the dried-out lake with a pair of binoculars. She turned her head a bit as Luci stepped up behind her.
“Hnh. Heard your footsteps coming up the ramp, didn't sound like a trooper or one of the merchants.” She lowered her binoculars and stood up, revealing pale skin and shock-white hair contrasted with her dark sunglasses. It took Luci aback a little. “You a Courier? If so, this might be your lucky day...if you don't mind walking a bit and your eyes are good.”
“Depends on the work.”
Ghost looked back east. “I think there's trouble in Nipton - no traffic from there on the roads, and while I can explain that away, the smoke from the town I can't.” She turned back to Luci. “I'm sure it's been hit - what I need to know is if they survived it. Might be Powder Gangers with all that smoke in the air. If there's anybody left, they'd be in the Nipton Town Hall. Go there, check it out, let me know what you find.”
“Alright, and, uh, what’s the pay?”
“The pay?” Ghost put on a voice that was clearly supposed to be mocking someone that Luci wasn’t familiar with. “The pay is a good goddamn thanks from the heart of the Republic!” She snorted. “Just shitting you with the NCR line, done wonders for morale around here. President Kimball keeps saying getting shot at is its own damn reward. Do this job for me, though, I'll do what I can. People know I hate most everyone, so if I put in a word for you...that's gold.”
“Sounds good. I’ll go check it out, man.”
Ghost cracked a bit of a smile. “All right. Look at you, all fired up and ready to go. Wish the others around here had that kind of attitude.” The smile didn’t last long before she returned to her usual stoic demeanor. “Listen - I don't want you getting killed for this, so if you head there and run into trouble, I'm asking for eyes and ears, not your life. All right?”
“Alright.” Luci nodded.
“Good. Mind yourself on the plank going down.” Ghost kneeled back down at her camp and continued watching the road to Nipton.
Luci didn’t have a good feeling about Nipton.

Knight looked busy with some kind of forms on the counter when Luci entered the main building again, though he was still scratching Dante’s head. Dante stood up upon seeing Luci enter and meowed again. Knight looked at Dante, then at Luci, and stood up.
“Hey, thanks for takin’ care of Dante, man.” Luci grabbed Dante and hefted him onto her shoulder again.
“Oh, right, no problem.” Knight looked a little remiss that she had taken Dante again.
“Say, uh, you know that lady up on the roof of the barracks?”
“Ranger Ghost? Sure, she watches the east roads. Why?”
“Nothin’, just, uh…what the hell’s up with her hair? She don’t seem real old to me, but, uh…”
“Oh, that. That’s how she got her name.” Knight shrugged. “She has…some sort of condition. I’m not familiar with the details. Did you ask her about it?”
“Nah. I figured she probably didn’t wanna talk about it.”
Knight sighed. “Good. I don’t know how she feels about talking about it, but…probably not good, knowing her.”
“Well, I don’t care. I think she looks fuckin’ awesome.”
“...Okay?”
“You say that a lot.”
“Yeah, uh, no, not really, just to you.”
“Cool.” Luci grinned. “Alrigh’, I’m gonna take care of business down on the highway. See ya.”
“Bye, and good luck.”

When Luci headed back down to the intersection, she found what she assumed Jackson had talking about when he said something was crawling the asphalt on the road just below the one that led to the rest stop. It appeared a group of giant ants had wandered off of the dry lakebed and onto the road. But, similarly to the radscorpions, their hard shells didn’t stand much of a chance against lasers, and Luci made quick work of them. Once they were taken care of, Luci headed onto the eastern road leading to Nipton.
At roughly the midway point between the intersection and Nipton lay the ruins of a couple of buildings, just after a billboard. Luci thought she heard some people inside the walls of the ruined building just past the billboard and so took cover behind it. She peeked out from under it to see that some more Jackal gang members were waiting to jump whoever passed by. She silently thanked the Powder Gangers for all that dynamite they had left her as she lit a stick and tossed it under the billboard.
She heard a gasp cut off as the dynamite went off and someone across the road in the other building started firing. Luci grabbed her pistol, waited until the firing had just ceased, and shot to prompt another round of bullet hail.
12 shots. Just when the last fired, she stepped out of cover and hit the man that had been firing at her twice in the chest, sending him down.
She waited a moment to see if he got up before searching their camp. Unfortunately, they didn’t have much, just some ammunition and a couple of caps. No energy cells, either. As she finished searching the last ammo box, she heard the sounds of gunfire further up the road and looked up to see two people were having a gunfight on the road. She waited, staying behind the cover of the ruined buildings, until one person dropped. The survivor, a woman with badly dyed, bright pink hair, looked around before quickly grabbing something off of the dead man and darting down the road. Luci stepped out of the building as she approached, prompting her to stop suddenly and to draw her hand toward her pistol. Luci already had her in hand as she circled her.
“D-did you see that? That guy was going to kill me!” The woman pointed up the road, where the dead man lay.
“Sure did. What’d you take off ‘im?”
“What? This?” She held up what looked like a necklace made from 7 star caps tied together with a loose string. “He stole this from me at gunpoint. Lucky for me, he got distracted and I got a chance to draw on him. It's a, uh, necklace that I made out of these special caps.” She cleared her throat, clearly getting more nervous as time went on. “You ever see any caps with a blue star on them like these?”
“Nothin’ like those six caps, there. They’re real pretty.”
She smiled in a lopsided manner. “They are nice, aren't they? I'm very proud of them.”
“Yep. All seven of ‘em. Real odd you don’t know how many of ‘em you got, if they’re so special to ya.”
The woman opened her mouth, then stopped when Luci held up her pistol.
“Hand ‘em over.” She held out her other hand.
“F-Fine. You can have the damn necklace. Just leave me alone.”
The woman reluctantly placed the necklace in Luci’s hand. Luci pocketed it.
“...Eh.” She pulled the trigger, burning a laser through the woman’s head and stepping back as she collapsed.
Dante crept out from inside the ruined building and sniffed the body.
“Hey, git. C’mon, you’ve gotten enough to eat. Let’s go.” Luci scooped him away with her foot and continued down the road as the sky continued to darken and the smoke grew thicker.

Chapter Text

The smoke wasn’t stopping. Whatever fires it was coming from in Nipton had to be pretty big, and maintained. As she rounded the top of the small hill leading to Nipton, she saw one of the bonfires, just inside the town and past the entrance into town. Next to the road lay the town sign, and past it, planted on each side of the road, two tall red banners with a yellow bull symbol on them, along with multiple pikes with heads stuck on them. It made for a grisly sight, and it made the sight of the man in the Powder Ganger uniform just between them manically wheezing and chuckling to himself that much stranger. Luci kept her pistol out, just under her poncho, as the man stumbled down the road towards her and started rambling at her.
“Yeeeaaaah! Who won the lottery? I did! Smell that air! Couldn't ya just drink it like booze!” He whooped and cackled hysterically.
Luci felt a little taken aback. It had been a while since she had been genuinely speechless.
“What…uh, what lottery?”
“What lottery?! The lottery, that's what lottery! Are you stupid? Only lottery that matters! Oh my God smell that air!”
“Are you a Powder Ganger?”
“Powder Ganger? What?” The man’s high seemed to go down for a moment. “I mean, yeah, used to be, sure! But not no more!” He wheezed, seemingly in another attempt to laugh. “Powder Gang is small-time, man! I'm a winner! I won the motherfucking LOTTERY!”
“...Okay. Uh. I’ll leave ya to that, then.”
“WHOOO!” He continued whooping as he rushed past her down the road, falling on his face once before scrambling back up and breaking into a run away from town. He seemed almost scared in his excitement as well as celebratory.
“What the fuck.” Luci whispered, looking at the fire to her left, before which stood a cross on which a burnt corpse had been nailed.
Dante looked up, his ears and nose twitching, before leapt down to the ground and darted. Luci didn’t blame him, but she needed to get to the town hall before she could ditch.
Before she continued past the two-story building to her left towards what was presumably the main street, she grabbed a stick of dynamite from her bag. She’d grabbed some frag grenades from the Powder Gangers at the Bison Steve, but if she needed to set it off relatively close to her, she didn’t want to get stuck with, well, fragments.
The main street was somehow even more grisly than the entrance, lined with more crosses, but this time, the people lashed to some of them were alive, though barely, considering how badly they appeared to have been beaten. Most, however, were empty, though the bloodstains implied that they were only recently left bare.
As she approached the town hall, she jumped and backed away as a group of men exited the front doors and began lining up in front of the stairs leading up to them, with rather vicious-looking dogs at their sides. They were dressed in a curious mish-mash of pre-war sports gear with red accents and leather padding, as well as black…skirts? Most of them were wearing leather caps with goggles and bandanas hiding their faces, but the man in the middle of their formation, who appeared to be their leader, was wearing the skinned head of a coyote along with the goggles the others wore. They were all holding their shotguns and rifles at the ready except for him, but, while tense, didn’t seem to be making a move to fire on Luci. Regardless, their leader seemed to notice her apprehension and stepped forward.
“Don't worry, I won't have you lashed to a cross like the rest of these degenerates.” He spoke with a nasally voice and a cold, indifferent tone. “It's useful that you happened by. I want you to witness the fate of the town of Nipton, to memorize every detail. And then, when you move on? I want you to teach everyone you meet the lesson that Caesar's Legion taught here, especially any NCR troops you run across.”
Luci looked at the crosses, and the other bonfires they had lit. More corpses, more heads on pikes.
“And what ‘lessons’ were taught here?” She kept her hat low. She couldn’t see his eyes, but he still sickened her enough that she didn’t want to meet them.
“Where to begin? That they are weak, and we are strong? This much was known already. But the depths of their moral sickness, their…” He paused. “...dissolution? Nipton serves as the perfect object lesson.”
“Tell me what happened here, then.”
He paused again. She could feel him scanning her with his eyes like one did a tense, wild dog that could easily attack or run.
“Nipton was a wicked place, debased and corrupt. It served all comers, so long as they paid. Profligate troops, Powder Gangers, men of the Legion such as myself - the people here didn't care. It was a town of whores. For a pittance, the town agreed to lead those it had sheltered into a trap. Only when I sprang it did they realize they were caught inside it, too.”
“And you captured ‘em.”
“Yes, and herded them to the center of town. I told them their sins, the foremost being disloyalty. I told them that when Legionaries are disloyal, some are punished, the others made to watch. And I announced the lottery. Each clutched his ticket, hoping it would set him free. Each did nothing, even when ‘loved ones’ were dragged away to be killed.”
“So you just beat innocents to death? Burned ‘em?”
“Innocent?” He scoffed. “Hardly. Cowardly, though. They outnumbered us, yet not once did they try to resist. They stood and watched as their fellows were butchered, crucified, and burned, one by one. They stood and hoped their turn would not come. Each cared only for himself.”
Luci had made her decision. “Tell me who you are.”
“I am Vulpes Inculta, of Caesar's Legion. I serve my master as the greatest of his Frumentarii.” Vulpes differed from his indifferent tone for a moment, sounding rather proud of himself. “We Frumentarii are soldiers of a different stripe, capable in battle, but skilled as infiltrators and agents as well.”
“Alright.” She readied the dynamite under her poncho. “I wanted to know your name when I wear your fuckin’ scalp like you wear that dog’s.”
His tone broke once again, only for a moment, as he took a step back. “Legionaries?! We have a problem!”
She tossed the dynamite just as he spoke and pulled her pistol, shooting it just as it reached their feet. She flinched as one of their bullets scraped her left leg and another ripped through her forearm, and ducked behind the side of a brick house to her right while they were blinded by the smoke. As soon as it cleared, another flurry of bullets bounced against the brick wall as Luci grabbed her pistol and shot down what dogs had immediately ran for her cover.
“Okay. Okay. Shit, fuck, shit.” She tapped the pistol against her head and took a deep breath before hearing two louder gunshots, just after the volley of fire from the Legion soldiers had died out. She heard some of them fall, and the others shout in some language she didn’t know.
When she peeked out from behind the building, while they were distracted, she noticed that a couple of the dogs had been taken out by the dynamite, while a couple of the Legion soldiers had been shot down. The others had returned to the front door of the city hall, firing at the rooftop of the two-story building, presumably where the sniper shots had come from.
She suddenly heard the sound of a chainsaw rev behind her, and turned just as the dog-headed man swiped at her. She just managed to duck out of the way, landing on the ground, kicking him in the leg, and firing as many laser shots into him as she could when he fell. She stood up, stopping when he went still, before he shockingly gasped, tried to push himself up, and finally collapsed for good. In the meantime, the sniper had seemingly stopped firing, and the Legion soldiers, having gotten a bit more confident, advanced. She quickly ducked behind the wall again when she saw them, and particularly when they sicced their dogs on her again. She shot down one with a couple more laser shots, but missed against the second. Just before the dog could lunge at her behind the cover of the building, another dog shot out from behind her, seemingly out of nowhere, and latched its jaws against the Legion dog’s neck. It wrestled the Legion dog to the ground, snapping its jaws tighter around its neck until it choked to death.
“Holy shit, thanks-dog!”
The dog, some kind of scruffy gray mutt with a red bandana, spared her a quick glance before hiding behind the building with her, hearing the gunfire start again. Another loud shot, and one of the Legion soldiers dropped. Luci quickly stepped out of cover long enough to fire a good few rounds in the last one, ending the fight for good. She lowered her pistol, panting, as the gray dog stepped out from behind the building with her.
“...Well. That turned out…better ‘n I thought.”
The gray dog looked at her, then looked down the main road, barked, and started racing down it. Luci raised her pistol again and turned, aiming it at the man at the end of the main road, next to the two-story building. He quickly raised his hands.
The man in question was a young black man, definitely younger than Luci, with tight, curly hair tied back to reveal a round, surprised face. He bore shades, green combat armor, a leather jacket, and a combat shotgun in one hand, pointed at the air.
“Hey. I’m, uh, not one of those guys. If you couldn’t tell.” If his appearance didn’t away how young he was, despite his stubbly beard, his voice did.
“Yeah. Don’t know why you killed ‘em, though.”
“...Okay, good point, but-Okay, Charon, calm down!”
She became aware of a very tall ghoul that had come out of the space between the brick building and the neighboring house, also holding a shotgun, this one aimed at her head.
“Why.” The ghoul spoke with a raspy, but deep and curt voice.
“She’s not a bad lady, I don’t think.”
“She wanted to scalp that man.”
“Heheh. Yeah, I did.” Luci grinned.
“...Okay, sure, but, also, that guy was a huge asshole. Listen, let’s all just put down the guns and talk.”
Charon looked at the other man, then at Luci. “Fine.” He slowly lowered the shotgun.
Luci looked between them as she put away her pistol. “We’re alrigh’, then?”
“We’re cool. Right, Charon?” The other man looked at the ghoul.
“...Right.”
“Sorry we couldn’t intervene earlier. We only just got into town after you, and by then you were already talking to that…creep. If we started firing, they would’ve killed you then and there.”
“Yeah, I don’t blame ya for that much. Thanks for coverin’ me when ya could, though.”
The man cracked an awkward grin. “Hey, no problem. That dynamite trick wasn’t half bad, either.”
“Heheh. Thanks, man.”
He took a deep breath and looked around the main street, trying to avoid looking at the crucified Powder Gangers. “Jesus fuck.”
“Jacob.” The ghoul lowered his voice as he stepped over to the other man. “...They won’t live.”
“What’re you saying?”
“...Would you like me to take care of it?”
Jacob opened his mouth, stopped himself, then shook his head. “Y’know what, no, we’re not…we’re not just letting them fucking die, we can’t-”
“Jacob, they are dead men.” The ghoul raised his voice slightly.
Jacob looked at the ground.
“...Hey, kid, d’ya know how to patch up a bullet wound?” Luci questioned, breaking the silence.
“Oh. Yeah, I do, I’m a doctor, actually.”
“Would ya mind patchin’ me up in that building over there, then?” She gestured to the two-story building by the entrance. “In the meantime…your friend can take care of these poor folks out here. Okay?”
Jacob pursed his lips, looking like he was holding back tears for a moment, before finally nodding. “Okay. Yeah. Let’s go. Dogmeat.” He whistled, prompting the gray dog to stick to his heels as he headed over to the building.
Luci headed after him, then stopped next to Charon. “You got it?”
“It will be fast.” He reloaded the shotgun and turned away from them.
“Alright.”

Jacob stepped into the building and froze. Luci stepped in after him, holding up her pistol, and Dogmeat slipped between her legs and stood up, his ears swiveling towards the man sitting in the plastic chair in front of the counter, at the other end of the room. The man sat up quickly, then groaned and leaned back in the chair again. He opened his eyes, widening them when he seemed to recognize Luci.
“Are you fucking kidding me? First I get my legs smashed, and then in walks the Powder Gangers' grim fucking reaper? What the fuck have you got against us, bitch? Jesus fucking Christ, if you want me dead just gimme 15 Med-X and I'll fucking O.D. for ya, okay? Fuck!” He sucked in a breath between his teeth again and leaned back, clutching his leg.
“Do you, uh, know each other?” Jake looked between Luci and the unfortunate man.
“I don’t know ‘im, but the Powder Gangers know me.” She holstered his pistol, seeing that between the man’s seeming inability to move his legs and lack of a weapon, he wasn’t much of a threat. “What I got against y’all is that you’re all fuckin’ assholes.”
“Fuck you!”
“Fuck you.”
“Okay, let’s just-stop before this gets outta hand.” Jake stepped between them and turned to the man. “W-Who are you? What’s your name?”
“Seriously?!”
“Yes, seriously, you’re the only survivor we’ve seen here other than those crazy Roman guys!” Jake threw up his hands exasperatedly.
“Fuckin’-” The man bit his tongue. “Everyone calls me Boxcars.”
“That’s-Okay, how are you alive?”
Boxcars chuckled bitterly. “Luck, that's how! I'm just that fucking lucky! You're looking at the second place winner of the Nipton lottery! That asshole Swanick took first place, so him they let walk!”
“Why are you still here, then?”
Boxcar shrugged in a mocking, exaggerated manner. “I dunno, I just love it here. What the fuck do you think, asshole? Prize for second place was I got to live, but they beat my fucking legs with hammers. I'm fucking crippled, get it?”
“Jesus, okay, um…”
“Stop yellin’ at the kid, asshole.” Luci took a step forward to look around the room.
“My legs haven’t stopped fucking hurting since those crazy bastards broke ‘em! Fuck you, I think I’m right to fucking yell about it!”
“Whatever. What kinda lottery you talkin’ about, anyhow?”
“It ain't like we came to Nipton to play it! Me and my crew had it worked out to kidnap some NCR troopers who come to town to get laid. Had it all worked out with the scumbag mayor. We were gonna ransom them off, keep their weapons for ourselves, a nice score.”
“So what the hell happened?”
“We get in position and next thing we know, we're surrounded by those fucking Legion freaks. They dragged us and everybody else into the center of town. And that asshole with a dog on his head, he starts talking about how we're bad people! He said we needed to be punished for what we did, not all of us, but some of us. And then he gives everyone a fucking lottery ticket…” Boxcars trailed off, staring at the floor.
“What happened with the lottery?” Luci turned back to Boxcars and lowered her voice a bit.
“What do you think? He started drawing tickets, and that's how people got punished. First up was the ‘lucky losers.’ They got decapitated - guess that's ‘lucky’ because it's pretty quick.” He sighed heavily. “Then came the crucifixions. Goddamn but those went on and on and on…” He paused for a moment before continuing. “Third-place runners-up got enslaved. I got the fuck beat out of my legs, and the winner they let go free.”
“They enslaved them?”
“Yeah, a bunch of those Legion fucks dragged them off right away. They was headed East, if you're feeling heroic.”
“...Alrigh’. What happened to the Mayor?”
“Him?” Boxcars grinned for the first time, although still bitter. “When his ticket came up, they burned him alive on a pile of tires.”
“Okay, that’s fucked up, anyway.” Jake stepped over to Boxcars and kneeled down next to him.
“I wouldn’t want a blowie from you even if I could feel it, asshole.”
“Fuck off, man.” Jake shouldered his backpack and reached inside, grabbing a medical box and placing it on the ground. “Okay, so, believe it or not, it’s actually better that your legs are still hurting. As opposed to…not feeling anything.”
“Speak for yourself.”
“Actually, I’m speaking for you. Like, definitively. Anyway, I’m gonna give you some Med-X for the pain.”
“Thank fucking god! First half-useful thing you assholes have done since you walked in.”
“Whatever.” Jake grabbed a syringe of Med-X and a pair of scissors.
“Woah, hey, what’re those for?”
“For cutting your pant legs. I assume you’re not gonna just pull them off.”
“Fine, whatever, just give it.”
After cutting Boxcar’s pant legs, Jake took a piece of cloth and a bottle of antiseptic from the medical kit, swapped it over a vein, and injected the Med-X.
“Okay, you should feel that in a bit.”
“Only one?!”
“Not only one, I’m gonna dose your other leg, too, I’m not an asshole. Even if you keep saying I am. Luci, did you see that caravan that was stuck at that intersection, just east of the Mojave Outpost?”
“Yep. They still there?”
“And do you know of any good doctors around here?”
“Yeah, the guy that patched me up in Goodsprings.”
“Goodsprings? Where’s that?”
“Ain’t too far. It’s North and west, past Primm.”
“Okay, good.” Jake stood up. “Boxcars, do you know how to do…anything other than robbing people?”
Boxcars snorted incredulously. “What the fuck you talking about?”
“Just tell me.”
“...I dunno, the guys at the prison told me I’m pretty good at scraping together good shit to eat.”
“Great.” Jake turned to Luci. “I was thinking of paying that caravan to bring Boxcars to Goodsprings.”
“What?”
Luci ignored Boxcars’s interjection. “They’ve been having problems with Powder Gangers recently. They’re good folk, but I’m not too sure they’d take kindly to him.”
“Then they can give him a change of clothes. And if he keeps his mouth shut about it and behaves, they won’t suspect anything. And if he’s nice, they probably won’t care enough to suspect anything.”
“I’m still here, dipshit!” Boxcars added, louder this time. “What the fuck are you talking about?!”
“Listen, I’m just gonna tell it to you straight, Boxcars. That doctor, if he’s really good, might be able to restore some mobility to your legs, but you’re not gonna walk the same again. If you’re lucky, you’ll probably have to rely on crutches.”
“Fuckin’ lucky this, lucky that, the fucking luck around here doesn’t seem so lucky to me!”
“You are lucky! You’re lucky those assholes didn’t kill you, and you’re lucky that your legs even have a chance!” Jake pinched the bridge of his nose and sighed irritably. “Just, listen, man, you have the chance to start over, in a hell of a better place than prison. Do you want that chance?”
Boxcars paused for a long moment. “...Fine, whatever.”
“Okay, then.” Jake turned back to Luci again. “Okay, um…oh my god, I don’t know your name.”
“Lucía Perez, but everyone calls me Luci. You are…?”
“Jake Morgan. I would say doctor, but no one really cares enough to call me that.” Jake shrugged. “Anyway, I’ll patch you up here, and then you and Charon can stay here with Boxcars and wait for me to get that caravan.”
“Actually, I needed to go on back to the Mojave Outpost, anyway. I’ll head back, but it might be a minute. Mind splittin’ whatever loot you find here with me when I get back?”
“No problem. Are you sure you’re gonna be okay? I saw that, um, your leg there…”
“It was just a graze. Don’t worry ‘bout it, kid.”

By the time Jake had gotten the bullet out of Luci’s shoulder and given her a Stimpak, Boxcars had fallen asleep. It looked like the Med-X had dulled his pain long enough for him to rest a little. Charon entered the building just as Jake was packing away his medical kit.
“It is done.”
“Right. Thanks, Charon.” Jake took a deep breath and stood up with his backpack. “Okay. So, we’re gonna wait here while Luci here goes and gets a caravan.”
“Why?”
“Boxcars here got his legs broken, and a caravan with a pack brahmin could get him to Goodsprings. There’s a doctor there that can help him better than I can.”
“Why?”
“Why what?”
“Why are you helping him?”
“Jesus, Charon, his legs are broken.”
“He’s also a…what do they call themselves?”
“Powder Ganger. It doesn’t matter, man, he needs help.”
Charon shrugged indifferently.
“...Whatever. Are you sure you’re good to go, Luci?”
“Sure.” Luci stood up heavily. “I’ll try to make it quick, but I do need to get over to the Mojave Outpost.”
“No problem.” Jake followed her out of the building.
“Say, how’d you get up there if you didn’t go inside?”
“I climbed up the fire escape on the side. Just as well, there wasn’t any way inside from the roof, as far as I could tell.”
Just as they stepped out onto the street, Dante slipped out of some rubble by the entrance and stopped on the road when he saw Dogmeat, his hair rising as he hissed. Charon immediately lifted his shotgun.
“Woah, hey, cool your fuckin’ jets, man, that’s my cat!” Luci grabbed the shotgun and tried to force it down. Charon was much stronger than she accounted for.
“What is it?” Charon sounded vaguely disgusted.
“She just said, it’s a cat! Dogmeat, stay.” Jake turned to his dog, who had started growling.
“A what?”
“A cat, it’s like…a little dog.”
“Dogs do not make that sound. Or do…that.” Charon gestured vaguely as he lowered his shotgun.
“Yeah, well, I said that they’re like little dogs. They do some…different stuff.” Jake didn’t sound like he knew too much about cats himself.
Luci stepped forward and scooped up Dante, who calmed a little once he was on her shoulder and further away from Dogmeat.
“Don’t worry ‘bout him. He likes to talk big game, but he won’t do nothin’.”
Charon put away his shotgun, but continued staring suspiciously at Dante. Jake pushed Dogmeat’s hind legs down, forcing him to sit.
“Down, boy, he’s nothing to worry about.” Jake looked back at Luci as she scratched Dante’s chin. “What’s his name?”
“Dante.”
“Does he have a pal called Vergil?” Jake grinned.
“...Called what?”
“Um…” Jake cleared his throat awkwardly. “Nevermind. Sorry.”
“Are you talking about your dead literature again?” Charon questioned drily.
“It’s not ‘dead’ literature! You’re thinking of language, and not even Dante’s language either, it’s-”
“I don’t care.” Charon interrupted, turning back to Luci. “How long will you be?”
“Yeah, whatever.” Jake mumbled, crossing his arms indignantly.
“I dunno. It took me a good hour or two to get from the Mojave Outpost to here.
Charon sighed heavily. “Fine.”
“If I get goin’ now, I’ll probably be back by…” Luci looked up at the darkening sky. “I dunno, if I don’t stop, ‘round early morning, at latest.”
“Sounds good. Me and Charon’ll go through this place, see if there’s any survivors.”
“Right. I’ll go with you into the City Hall, though. I saw those crazy bastards come outta there, so lord knows what kinda shit’s waiting in there.”
“Got it.” Jake nodded.
“And, I gotta ask. How much d’ya think you could spare that caravan to bring Boxcars up North?”
Jake put a thoughtful hand on his chin and paused to think. “...I can’t spare more than 200 caps.”
“Alright. I’ll try to seal the deal before I send ‘em over.”

Thankfully, the caravan was still there. Seemed like they had finally just decided to camp out by the intersection for the night. They looked quite surprised to see Luci approaching from Nipton.
“...So, what’s goin’ on over there?” The woman Luci assumed was the merchant gestured broadly to the east.
“Bad business. Took care of it, though. Speakin’ of, would you mind carrying someone up to Goodsprings for me?”
The woman blinked and looked around. “Who?”
“A guy over there.” Luci pointed to Nipton. “He’s one of only two people left alive in there, and his legs are all beat to shit. Can’t walk for himself. But there’s a doc in Goodsprings I figure could help him, and I also figured your brahmin could handle carryin’ him the distance.”
The woman paused. “I thought the I-85 was fucked.”
“Sure, just north, past Goodsprings, but the road to Goodsprings itself? Biggest threats you’ll encounter are some geckos and radroaches. Maybe a couple Powder Gangers, but I think I spooked ‘em enough that they’ll avoid jumping caravans for awhile.”
“...Alright. But the question still stands, why should I do it?”
“I got a guy who can pay you, and the guy you’re transporting is apparently a good cook. You’ll have good eatin’ up to Goodsprings, and, hell, the lady who runs that saloon makes some good food herself, and for real cheap. You could layover in Goodsprings, wait ‘till the I-15 calms down.”
The woman thought over this for a moment. “...I’ll do it for 100 caps.”
“Sounds good. If you head up there and then head back, you can camp out in those ruins in between.” Luci pointed it out to the merchant as she stood up, along with her mercenaries, who had started to pack up. “It’ll protect ya from the wind better than stayin’ out here.”
“Alright. Let’s go, boys!” The merchant started on her way down the road as the mercenaries with her finished packing.
Luci watched them leave for a minute, making sure they were, indeed, on their way to Nipton, before trekking up to the Mojave Outpost.
By the time she reached the giant statues, night had fallen over the Mojave. The moon was still big enough in the sky that it provided a decent amount of light, between it and the lights in the outpost. Luci made a note to turn on the Pip-Boy light when she headed back.
The soldiers on night watch seemed to recognize that she wasn’t a raider or a Powder Ganger, and allowed her to head up to the roof of the barracks. Ghost looked like she was just about to pack up before hearing Luci come up the ramp.
“You check out the Nipton Town Hall yet? Smoke trail's not getting any shorter.” Ghost looked as though she almost didn’t want to hear the answer upon seeing Luci’s face.
“Didn’t need to. Those, uh, ‘Legion’ men were there. Killed damn near everyone in there.”
“Legion this far West?” Ghost paused for a long moment before shaking her head, looking at the ground. “You're fucking kidding me. That's not outside the border, they're moving in - and fast. Nipton wasn't the most friendly town, but…” She sighed heavily and turned to Luci again. “All right - thanks for checking on that, wish it set my mind at ease, now I'm more on edge than ever.”
“...Did ya have any friends there?”
“In Nipton? Hell no. Town was a shithole, asking to be burned.” Ghost paused again. “Just not by Legion. Nobody deserves that.”
“...Yeah. We can agree on that much.”
Ghost took her glasses off to rub her eyes. She looked more tired once Luci could see the dark bags under her eyes.
“Well, thanks for hoofing it there and back, even if it was bad news. Wish we could spare the troops to go hunting, but...orders are to stay put. Fucking Mojave's going to hell, and all I can do is sit here and watch.”
Luci didn't know how to reply to that, which was just as well. Ghost turned away from her and returned to her post. Looked like with that news, she wasn’t going to sleep anytime soon.

Jackson was still in the main building, and also looked like he was about to turn in. He had stood up from a desk in one of the rooms off the hallway when Luci entered.
“Any luck up by the track?”
“Sure. Roads north should be clear, now.”
Jackson nodded curtly. “Appreciate the help. Wish I had more work for you, but nothing else on the radar at the moment.”
“You, uh, mentioned a reward?”
“No, I mentioned you might accidentally get supplied, and I meant it. Not allowed to contract mercenaries at the Outpost.” Jackson paused. “Still, a requisition form or two can get lost, and they're not going to come check…” He looked past Luci into the hallway before grabbing a pack from under his desk and holding it out. “...So here you go, just between us.”
“Thanks, man.” Luci took the pack and tucked it under her poncho.
“Better we don’t talk about it.” Jackson stood up and walked past her into the hallway, presumably heading to the barracks to sleep.

The pack itself wasn’t half-bad. A service rifle, some good rounds for it, some food, basic weapon repair kits, and a cool 100 caps. Once she’d put the supplies away and slung the service rifle over her shoulder, along with that laser rifle she’d grabbed near Sloan, she started on her way back to Nipton.

When she finally got back, it was past midnight, and the caravaners and Jake were busy positioning Boxcars on top of the brahmin. He wasn’t too pleased about it.
“Easy! Jesus! My legs are fucked enough! Hey, what’re the ropes for?!”
“They’re gonna need to keep you on.” Jake sounded like he’d explained everything ten times over. “I’ll be giving you enough Med-X that it shouldn’t hurt too bad on your way there.”
“Yeah, my legs won’t! Riding on a fucking cow isn’t too goddamn comfy on the rest of me, either!”
“Well, that’s the best you’re getting.”
“Does he bitch this much, usually?” The merchant looked skeptically at Jake.
“No-well, maybe, but, like I said, he can cook, and you’ll be getting 100 caps for this.”
“For carrying around this guy? 150.”
Jake ran a hand over his face and sighed irritably. “...Okay, fine. 150.”
“Alright, now we’re talking.” The merchant waited for Jake to fish out his caps and hand them over before turning to the mercenaries with her, who had finished securing Boxcars to the brahmin. “Okay, let’s go. We’ll be layin’ over in the middle of the lakebed, and then we make a straight shot to Goodsprings.”
As they headed down to the ruins on the road, Jake sighed in relief and leaned against the two-story building. “Thank fucking god.”
“You wanted to help him.” Charon glared at Jake.
“I’m a doctor, it’s my job to help people. Even if they’re assholes. I just get tired of it sometimes.”
Luci chuckled. “Sometimes?”
“Okay, a lot of the time.” Jake stood up again. “How’d your business at the Outpost go?”
“Well…it’s not good news, but they needed it. Plus, one of them rangers gave me some supplies for killin’ some ants.”
“Well, hey, at least you got something out of it.” Jake looked back at the main road. “It might be better to get some sleep before we check out the city hall.”
“Pro’ly.” Luci turned to the building Boxcars had been in. “How ‘bout in here?”
“Sounds good to me.”
“Say, you find anything ‘round here?” Luci questioned as she held open the door.
“Yeah, actually, we found a Mr. Gutsy in one of those houses. Another one of them was all booby-trapped.”
“I guess this was a weird fuckin’ place, even before all this crap. Why the hell was the place trapped?”
“I dunno. I found a note about a ‘vital essence’? Couldn’t find anything, though. Found a weird cap in a hotel, though.”
“With a star on it?”
“Yep.”
“Yeah, apparently there’s some place where you can get a big reward if you collect 50 of ‘em.”
“Ooh, really?”
“Yeah, I dunno what it is, though.” Luci kneeled down to put down her bedroll. Dante growled when Dogmeat got a little closer and sniffed him.
“Dogmeat, c’mon, leave him alone.” Jake clicked his tongue, prompting Dogmeat to return to his side. “Okay, I’ll take first watch.”
“I’ll take the second, then, and Charon can take the third.” Luci took off her poncho. “Sound good?”
“Sounds good to me. Charon?”
Charon grunted and sat heavily on the floor next to the counter.
“...I’ll take that as a yes.” Jake set up his own sleeping bag.
“Does, uh, your buddy have one?”
“Yup. He just…doesn’t use it.” Jake glared at Charon as he stood up again, allowing Dogmeat to curl up on the end of the sleeping bag.
“Why?”
“‘Cause it’s cold!”
“You think it’s cold.”
“It gets pretty chilly out here at night, man.” Luci added.
“...Not to me.”
“Whatever, just-he’s not gonna change his mind.” Jake waved it off and headed over to the door. “Okay, you guys can get some rest. Including you, Charon.”
After Charon’s shift, around 8, they decided to pack up and head into the City Hall and see what they could find.

Luci and Jake covered Charon as he kicked open the front doors. Thankfully, there weren’t any more Legion soldiers inside, but there was a pack of their dogs left inside. They shot them down fairly fast, and upon getting a closer look at them, Luci was glad only one got its jaws on Dogmeat yesterday. They were large and fierce enough that they looked more like wolves than run of the mill wasteland mutts.
“Man, I never feel good about killing dogs.” Jake turned to Luci again. “Say, where did you get that laser pistol? I’ve never seen anything like it. Looks more like…well, a regular gun than most laser pistols I’ve seen.”
“This old thing?” Luci held up her pistol. “Yeah, it’s a, er, Wattz 1000 Magneto. ‘Parently it’s got a little more piercin’ power than a regular one. I like to call it, heh, the ‘Equalizer.’ ‘Cause, y’know, everyone’s equal when they’re ash. It used to be…” She paused.
“Used to be…?”
“Jake.” Charon barked, looking behind the counter to the right of the front doors.
“Huh? What’s up?”
“Mine.”
“There’s a mine?” Jake cautiously stepped over next to Charon, looking past him behind the counter. “Shit, shoulda known. These assholes love setting out traps.”
“The Legion guys?” Luci questioned.
“Yeah. How much do you know about them?”
“...Not a whole lot. Just that they like pretending that they’re ‘Romans,’ and that they’re fuckin’ crazy people.”
“Yeah, that’s most of what you need to know. You should also know that they like traps, though. Step back, both of you, I’ll take care of it.”
Luci, Charon, and Dogmeat returned to the front doors. Jake backed up a bit, pulled a handgun, and fired once at the mine, blowing it up.
“Woof.” Jake crouched down and picked something off the floor. “Huh.”
“What is it?”
“A key. The explosion sent it flying, and I saw it fall down here.” Jake looked it over. “Let’s check for locked doors.”
Charon stepped into the hall directly ahead of the lobby and tried the door on the right. “Here.”
“Woah, seriously?”
“Try it.”
Jake unlocked the door and tensed up as he slowly pushed it open, clutching his 10mm. Luci peeked over him, seeing that the door opened up to some stairs leading downwards into a basement.
“Don’t hear nothin’. Ladies first?”
“Uh, sure.” Jake grinned awkwardly and stepped to the side.
Luci turned on her pip-boy light, as she did, she realized something and turned to Jake.
“Hey. You got a Pip-Boy?”
“Huh? Oh, yeah, a Pip-Boy 3000.” Jake turned on his own light. “Where’d you get that from, anyway?”
“That doc that patched me up in Goodsprings. Anyhow.” Luci continued down the stairs. She’d have to ask Jake where he got his.
She kept her pistol aimed in front of her as she headed down the stairs, lit only by a small light above the doorway at the bottom. The basement itself was really just one room, lit faintly by the flickering display on a Sunset Sarsaparilla vending machine.
“It’s clear down here.” Luci found that her warning wasn’t necessary as Jake and Charon followed her down anyway.
Jake checked the fridge on the right wall, by some crates and vending machines. “Hey, there’s some fresh food in here.”
“Like what?”
“Soda, some kinda nuts and fruit.” Jake grabbed something out of it. “Is this…a cooked mantis leg?”
“Keep it. They ain’t half-bad.”
“...I mean, I’ll eat it.” Jake bagged it. “You want the fruits and sodas?”
“Sure.” Luci opened up a gun cabinet in the far corner. “There’s a ten mil pistol and a shotgun in here.”
“How do they look?”
Luci grabbed the shotgun and looked it over. “Shottie’s okay. I’d say it’s worth, what, two hundred?”
“And the pistol?”
“Same thing. Everyone wants a 10 mil, though, lightweight but packs a better punch than a 9 mil. Easy to repair, too. I’d say in this condition, it’s worth 400.”
“Niice. Charon, do you think you have room in your pack for that?”
Charon huffed and stepped over to Luci, holding his hand out. She passed him the shotgun, then the pistol.
“What’s in those crates?”
“Some mines and dynamite. I’ve never been a fan of explosives. You want them?”
“Sure. Just don’t toss ‘em at me.” Luci grinned.
“Heh. I won’t.” Jake smiled in turn and stood up from the crates, holding the mines and the dynamite.
Luci stepped over to the table in front of the couch Charon and Dogmeat had sat on. On top of it were some empty bottles of sarsaparilla and some Turbo - Jet mixed with hairspray. Nasty, but potent stuff. Luci picked it up and turned it over.
“What’s that?”
“Turbo.”
“Oh. You don’t use that stuff, right?”
“Sometimes. If I’m desperate. Might give ya the edge ya need.” She weighed it with her hand, finding it wasn’t quite empty yet, and put it away.
“...If you say so, I guess.”
“Alright. Hand me those explosives. Don’t worry, I try not to use ‘em under the influence. We done here?”
“Yeah, looks like it.”
They headed upstairs ahead, where Jake winced upon seeing the bodies of what people had been killed in the initial struggle.
“Looks like they got lucky.” Luci whistled.
“Lucky?”
“Mmhm. Looks like they fought back enough that them soldiers just killed ‘em. You saw what happened to the folks they took alive.”
“...Yeah. I mean, I guess so. Just…fuck, man.”
“Y’know, woulda thought you’d be used to this by now. Most folks are.”
“Me too.” Jake put a hand on his face, took a deep breath, and stood up. “Okay, let’s check the rest of this floor. Might, uh…someone might be hiding somewhere.”
Charon sighed and continued down the main hallway. “Which side?”
“Search the rest of the rooms in this hall, and, um, once it opens up, me and you’ll take the right side of the building. Luci, you cool with taking the left?”
“No problem, kid.” Luci grinned and held her thumb up with her free hand.
“Cool! Okay, let’s go, then.”
Jake seemed naive, even for his age, but he seemed more than sharp enough to make up for it. Seemed like there was something else behind him, but Luci didn’t mind him not talking much about it if he let her do the same.
The only other rooms left in the hallway were the bathrooms, and they didn’t find anyone there, except for a couple of unfortunates who had seemingly been shot on the toilet. In the other offices and meeting rooms, it seemed like some of the citizens who had worked there had been killed when the Legion tried to take them. They were either riddled with dog bites, bullets, or both. Some had succeeded in taking down a couple of dogs with them, but none of the Legion soldiers. The upturned tables and chairs, paired the bloodied, sometimes beaten bodies, made for a sight almost as grisly as the scene just outside. Jake avoided looking at them, though Charon seemed okay with searching the bodies. He didn’t seem to find anything on anyone.
They congregated at the stairwell that lay just past the main hallway. They hadn’t found much of value.
“Looks like that fox guy was lyin’ when he said no one fought back.” Luci looked up the stairwell, at the body of a dead woman covered in bite marks, next to a dead dog covered in knife wounds.
“Yeah, well, I kind of assume they’re lying whenever they talk themselves up like that.” Jake shrugged, looking at the floor.
“Guess I shoulda, too.” Luci was the first to head upstairs and stopped at the door to the second floor. “You wanna check the second floor, too?”
Jake followed her up briskly and readied his shotgun. “Okay.”
Charon stepped up after them and pushed past them to the door. “I will breach.”
“You sure?”
Charon took the door handle in his left hand and held up his shotgun with his right. “Sure. 1, 2.”
He turned the handle and kicked open the door, stepping through as Luci, Jake, and Dogmeat brought up the rear.
As his kick sounded through the second floor, they heard the clattering of claws against the floor and barks as more of the dogs raced down the hall. Charon quickly shot down two of them, and Luci and Jake took down the last two. Dogmeat trotted past them, sniffed the dog’s corpses, his hackles still raised, then relaxed when he saw they were dead.
“S’alright, little guy.” Luci ruffled Dogmeat scruff.
He lifted his head and his ears, looking into the room opposite them, and stalked forward, his ears still angled in front of him. He stopped in the middle of the room, a small office, and growled.
“You got a mine?” Jake cautiously followed Dogmeat and looked past him at the floor. “Alright, let me take care of it.”
Charon stepped forward and gently pulled Dogmeat back by his bandana while Jake put away his shotgun and grabbed his pistol. He aimed it at the mine, shot it, and stepped back as it blew up. They all jumped when it took out the wooden floor underneath it.
Luci whistled as she looked past Jake at the hole in the floor. “This floor ain’t shit.”
“Yeah. Unfortunately.” Jake put away his handgun. “Let’s just, uh, avoid this room for now. And maybe we should stick together. Dogmeat can let us know if he hears anything.”
The second floor was smaller than the first, and the only other room of note was the open assembly room past the small office. Two women had been left shot full of holes in the middle of the assembly room, but from a cursory examination, only one had been a citizen of Nipton. The other body didn’t look quite as old, and the woman herself looked more weathered, with clothes more suited for trekking. Probably a prospector that had snuck in, looking to see if she could salvage anything. And likely caught by the Legion soldiers before she could get back out.
Luci was able to find more on her body than the others they’d found. She decided to take a small bottle of Absinthe, a bottle cap, some water bottles, and a silenced .22.
“Should, uh…”
Luci stood up and turned to Jake as she pocketed the .22mm pistol. “Huh?”
“...Should you take that?” Jake glanced at the prospector’s body.
Luci looked at the body, then back at him and shrugged. “I don’t like it no more than you do, but she’s dead, ain’t she?”
Jake shrugged in turn. “Yeah. I guess so.”
“Jake.” Charon mumbled just loud enough for Jake to hear him.
“Sorry. Yeah. Let’s check the next floor.” Jake gestured to the flight of the stairs just before the assembly room, across from the small office. “If there’s anyone still here, they’d probably be hiding in the top floor, if not the basement.”
The short flight of stairs led up to a door into a small waiting room, complete with some more flickering vending machines along the right wall, a countertop with a coffee maker and some mugs, and a fridge. There didn’t appear to be any more dogs, or bodies, for that matter.
They didn’t find much in the office opposite the entrance, except for some more overturned chairs indicating a struggle. No blood, however.
As they continued down the hall to the left, Luci unlocked a door into another office, in slightly better condition, even with some terminals on the desks. However, all of them had been smashed, somewhat recently, it seems, and all the lockers and desks had been cleaned out. Another was overturned, but, again, no blood. Looks like anyone who had worked up here had been purposely taken alive.
They checked the last door in the hallway, along the left wall and labeled “MAYOR”, and found it opened into a large, long room, relatively better maintained and decorated than the others. It was lit by the sunlight pouring through the boarded-up windows and a chandelier that had been left on.
Luci headed to the desk at the far end of the room, with a terminal, some papers, and programming magazines atop it. She leaned over it and switched on the terminal as Jake checked the cupboards behind the desk.
“What’s on there?” Jake questioned once Luci had stood up from reading the logs.
“The mayor’s little diary. I found part of it in a little rest stop west ‘o here. Looks like he came from somewhere called “The Hub” in Cali, brought some ‘workin’ girls’ with him, and used ‘em to get favors from everyone ‘round here and set himself up as Mayor. Lured some NCR troops in here by night, Powder Gangers by day, and he was stupid enough to think that fox guy was actually gonna give ‘em 8000 caps for trapping all of ‘em. Didn’t bet on bein’ caught in the trap himself.”
“He sounds like an asshole.”
“An asshole that got a fuck of a lotta other folks killed with ‘im. Y’find anything in there?”
“Just some bobby pins, a laser pistol. Thought you’d like these energy cells with it, though.” Jake tossed her the cells.
“Thanks.” Luci tried the door just next to the cupboards and found it was locked. “Pro’ly find more in here. Let me give it a shot.”

After Luci got it open, they managed to find at least a couple things of value in there, including some more guns, ammunition, and medical supplies. It appeared they had searched everything in the town hall, and with that, they started on their way downstairs.
“Y’good, Jake?” Luci questioned, noticing Jake’s more crestfallen demeanor.
“Yeah. I’m okay, just…It was just naive to think anyone was left, honestly.”
“Sure. But it ain’t ‘cause you’re stupid, it’s ‘cause you’re a good kid. It’s better to make sure.”
“...I guess so.” Jake stopped outside the city hall, looking at the bodies of the Legion soldiers they had left on the road, Dante crouched over one of them and chewing on his ears. “What, uh…what should we do with ‘em?”
“Nothin’. Actually.” Luci stepped over Vulpes’s body. “I made a promise.”
“What? Wait, did you mean that?”
“Heheh. Not literally.” Luci grabbed the coyote head he’d been wearing. “I’ll keep this.”
“Why?”
“Sendin’ a message. I bet they’ll have some little scouts come by here again to check on the place, ‘specially if they don’t hear from this guy.” Luci pocketed the hat and grabbed her knife from her boot. “How d’they bury their dead?”
“What, these guys? Probably like the Romans.”
“And how is that?”
“Well, I guess…it’s pretty complicated. They close the body’s eyes, like everyone else does, but they usually give them Charon’s Obol too.”
“Charon? Like your pal?”
“No, like the person he’s named after. Right?” Jake looked at Charon.
Charon shrugged.
“...Okay. Well, it’s just a coin. I guess it gives them passage to the afterlife. They usually put on the eyes or in the mo…why are you interested?”
“...Nothing. I’m gonna see if he’s got anything on ‘im about where that camp might be. Where’n they took those other folks. Y’all can go to the other side of town, and we’ll keep goin’ from there.”
“Uh. Sure. C’mon, Charon.”
Charon looked after Jake, then glared at Luci. “I will wait.”
“Sure.” Luci shrugged.
“...Alright.” Jake whistled, prompting Dogmeat to his side, and headed down the main road.
Charon watched him turn the corner and turned back to Luci. “Why did you ask him to leave?”
“I don’t know what rock he’s been livin’ under, but he’s a pretty naive kid. Don’t got nothin’ against him, but I don’t want him seein’ nothing he don’t have to.” Luci drew her knife from her boot and turned her back to Charon.
“Like what?”
“This guy didn’t give these people a good death, much less a good burial. I figure he don’t deserve one, neither.” She quickly stabbed through each of his eyes, then wiped her knife on his shoulder pads and sheathed it before she stood up. “Strikes a little fear in the others, too. Don’t want none of ‘em thinkin’ that they could do what he did and get away scot-free.”
“Hm.”
“Dante, c’mon, little man.” Luci waited for Dante to stand up and dart over, climbing up her poncho onto her shoulder. “There ya go.”
“Are you done?”
“Yep. Nothin’ left for anyone here.”

Guy pushed open the door to Mick and Ralph’s and looked around the small store. The store was mainly crammed with shelves, some stocked with junk, most with some food, nuka-cola crates, and other essentials. In the far corner appeared to be their stock of weapons, mainly some cheap firearms and objects one could reasonably use as a weapon. A man was sitting on the chair behind the counter in front of the door, a man with ruffled black hair, a plaid shirt, jeans, a rather laid-back expression. Another man was leaning by the far corner with slicked back brown hair, a soul patch, and a more stern, restrained expression. The man behind the counter sat up and grinned welcomingly as they entered.
“Welcome to Mick and Ralph’s! I’m sure good old Arcade here’s already told you that I’m Ralph. But I don’t believe I know you.”
“Guy De Devaul.” Guy smiled and held his hand out as Ralph stood up.
“Hey, Ralph.” Arcade sounded more obligated to greet Ralph than anything.
Ralph shook Guy’s hand before standing back and crossing his arms. “Right, so, what do you need?”
“I wanted to trade some things. See how much they go for around here.”
“Ah, I see. We get a lot of prospectors around here. What do you have to sell?”
“Some conductors, sensor modules, some other robotic parts.”
Ralph’s eyes lit up, and he placed a thoughtful hand on his chin. “Sensor modules, you say?”
Arcade cleared his throat and interrupted quietly. “Hey, Guy?”
“Yes?”
“I’ll go wait around the Fort. Don’t really want to listen to negotiations over the prices of sensor modules, honestly speaking.”
“Sure! Chico, go on.”
Chico barked enthusiastically and followed Arcade outside.
“So, where’d you get all these parts?”
“Mmmm, a REPCONN facility.”
“Really? The REPCONN headquarters, you mean? I heard that place was locked up tight by robots. And that they had some pretty valuable stuff in there.” Ralph leaned forward, “You find anything special in there?”
Guy thought for a long moment. “...Well, not technically. Just, like I said, robotic parts. They’re in very good condition, however. Untouched, really.” He fished some of the parts out of his backpack and placed a few modules on the table. “So, 50 caps each for the sensor modules?”
Ralph looked up. “Woah, hey, 50 caps?”
“These things are very hard to come by, and I had to go through a facility infested by security robots for them. So, 50 caps.”
Ralph sighed. “50 caps just seems a little steep.”
“The lowest I’m going is 40.”
“40?”
“Like I said, these are in very good condition. I’m sure I can find some other traders who would love to have these for 50 caps.” Guy smiled calmly.
Ralph sighed deeply and was quiet for a moment before nodding. “...Alright, fine. 40 caps each.”
Guy placed the three sensor modules on the table. Ralph set down a small pouch of caps beside them and took a look at them, grinning, “Damn, these are pretty nice. You said you had conductors? Any batteries?”
Guy counted all 120 caps and stuffed the pouch into his backpack. “Sure do. 40 apiece for the conductors, 85 for the batteries, those are pretty hard to come by. In working condition, anyway.” Guy continued as he fished out the other parts. “So, any news around Freeside? Traders always seem to hear first.”
“News? Mick, you got any news?” Ralph called to the end of the room.
“News about newcomers?” Mick clicked his tongue in thought before replying in a decidedly deeper, stern voice. “Hm. We got that Asian lady in the store the other day. Remember her?”
“Oh, yeah. The one dresses like a guy. She was, what, 50? But she dressed like she was in a gang or something. Bought a suit, though.”
“Yeah. Acted like a Jackal or something. Weird. I mean, in Freeside. King usually doesn’t put up with ‘em.”
Guy paused. He remembered someone like that.
“What was her name?”
“You ‘member her name, Mick? You were talkin’ with her about guns and all that.”
“Yeah. It was May.”
“Yeah, yeah. May ee-too. Or something like that.”
“May Itou?” Guy repeated, partially in disbelief.
“Yep. You know her?”
“...Oh, I’ve heard of her, I think. Where’d she go?”
“Pretty sure she was headin’ the Strip. She wasn’t here too long ago, really. Could probably catch her.” Mick shrugged absent-mindedly.
“And she just came here for weapons?”
Mick looked away and grabbed a cigarette. Ralph paused for a long moment before replying. “Uh. Yeah. Couldn’t afford anything, though.”
Guy nodded. “Mmhm, that sounds like Itou, alright. She’s always broke, somehow. I really doubt she could afford the ridiculous price on those Strip passes.” He smiled. “Maybe she found a helpful someone who could offer her an alternative? Like you, perhaps?”
Mick placed the caps on the counter, paused, then looked at Ralph. Ralph glanced behind Guy, making sure no one was coming in or listening, before turning back to him. “Alright. Yeah. I've got a little side business going, but what I'm about to share with you does not leave this room, eh? Over the years, I've gradually perfected my craft to the point of perfection. No one can distinguish between my work and the real thing. What I'm referring to is passports. If you've got the caps, I can whip up a Strip passport which will fool even the most well-trained eye.”
“I can see why this is kept low-key.”
“Yeah, if you’re interested, and have the caps, they go for 500 caps. Any less and it ain’t worth the risk of...getting caught.”
“Hm. Does the Strip allow plus-ones?”
“Does the Strip allow plus-ones?” Ralph repeated and thought for a moment, “I mean, maybe. You bringing Arcade with you?”
“Yep.”
Ralph snorted. “He doesn’t seem like he’d like it there.”
“I would prefer that if he wanted to come with me, he can.”
“Well, keep him close. Securitrons might shoot him down if they see him without you.”
“...On second thought, I’ll buy two. But I’ll need the price halved.” Guy chuckled, “Because, let’s be honest, your material and expenses wouldn’t cost you 500 caps, would it?”
Ralph grinned. “Hah! I like your style, Guy, but the best I can do is meet you halfway. 375 caps each, and we can call it a deal.”
“750 caps it is, then, for both.”
“Great, I’ll take that outta your payment.” Mick took the caps he had placed on the counter, as well as the parts. “Get the rest of the payment, I’ll get you your passports.”
He headed to the back and headed upstairs. Guy began counting out his caps.
“So, you’re Mick?” He called to Mick, who was still hanging out near the far corner.
“Yep.”
“You sell weapons?”
“Yep.”
“...How’s business been?”
“Things were better when the Omertas were buying, but we get by. Good selection from traders and the Van Graffs keep things running.”
“Van Graffs?”
“You haven’t heard of the Van Graffs?” Ralph yelled down the stairs before coming down himself.
“Well, somewhat. Energy weapon dealers. Never actually met them, though.”
“Good thing, I say. You don’t want to get out of line with Gloria or Jean-Baptiste.” Ralph held up the passports. “So, you got the caps?”
Guy handed them over, placing them on the counter, and taking the passports.

“We’re...going to the Strip?” Arcade raised a brow.
“Someone I know is there. May Itou.”
“And what exactly is your relationship with May Itou?”
“I’ve known her since I was a kid, and we’ve met up from time to time. She’s a good friend.”
“And how long ago did you last see her? And why do you want to know about her business in the Strip?”
“Well, I did last see her when I was twenty...six. But I did come in contact with her again about 5 years ago, though it was just through a letter. As for your second question...well, when I knew her, she would rather drop dead than go someplace like the Strip. I’m concerned, is all.”
“It’s been 5 years, Guy.”
“I know, but she’s always very, very adamant on her principles. And Mick said that she bought a suit. I know damn well May wouldn’t wear anything like that, and go anywhere like the Strip willingly. Something has to have happened to make her act like that.”
Arcade sighed, looked at the ground, and then back at Guy. “Fine. If you want, I’ll go with you. Just to make sure your friend’s okay.”
“Thank you, Arcade.”
“...But first, let’s get those supplies to Julie.”
They headed back to the Fort and gave Julie most of the supplies Guy had retrieved from the first aid box in the REPCONN headquarters. She seemed quite thankful for it.
“I honestly didn’t think you were going to go through with the supply deal,” She smiled humorously. “Well, now that I think about it, I don’t think Arcade would let you get away with not going through with it.”
“I would not,” Arcade piped in.
Guy chuckled. “I know. And I took care of Bill and Jacob.”
Julie’s face lit up. “Oh, yes! They came by just yesterday. Thank you so much for helping them. This means a lot to us. You have our thanks. If you need medical supplies, come see me. With Jacob working with us, we should be able to spare a stim or a fixer once a day.”
“That alone won’t help with the supply problem, though,” Arcade added cautiously.
Julie sighed, crossing her arms. “I...yes, unfortunately. We need a supply deal to keep chems coming in. Jacob can only do so much.”
“Alright. Who do you suggest speaking to?”
“Well, there’s Mick and Ralph’s, and…” She sighed, “And there’s the Garret twins at the Atomic Wrangler. You can talk to them, if they’re not too busy poisoning Freeside to help it out.”
“The Garrets?” Arcade repeated skeptically.
“As a last resort, Arcade,” She replied firmly, “I’d like it if you can work out something with Mick and Ralph’s, but the Garrets are capable of sparing supplies if they can’t.”
“Right. Last resort. I’ll finish up my business as soon as possible, then head over to Mick and Ralph’s.”
“Thank you,” Julie continued humorously, “Oh, and, thank you for finally getting Arcade out of his tent.”
“Thanks, Julie.” Arcade added drily.
“Oh, it’s no problem of mine. Things have been much better with Arcade with me. And he can help me with those supplies. Good luck with your work, Julie.”
“Thank you. And good luck with yours!”
They headed out of the tent, out of the fort, and towards the gate to the Strip, going only a little while ahead before Guy paused.
“Excuse me a moment, I have something to do. Keep an eye out, would you?”
“Um. Sure?”
Guy stopped by one of the many abandoned buildings and stepped inside for a minute, while Arcade and Chico waited outside. He came back out wearing a worn suit.
Arcade raised a brow. “You...have a suit?”
“I was saving it just for this. Wish I had gotten you one.”
“I’m alright without, thanks.”
An older man in a suit was hanging around near the gate, and noticed them when they reached the road just ahead of it. He was an older man, but looked good for his age, with well-kempt short black hair and a soul patch, with some silver hairs throughout.
“I wouldn’t suggest going near those…” He paused when he saw Arcade, and smiled, “Oh, sorry. Arcade must’ve told you about those securitrons by now. You just look new to Freeside. Didn’t want you ending up like him.”
“Like-oh.” Guy was answered by the sight of a body near the gate with some holes burned into him.
“Hey, Ben.” Arcade actually sounded happy to see him. “Ben’s been in Freeside since he was born. He’s sort of...a local celebrity.”
“Oh! I didn’t realize I was in the presence of fame.” Guy smiled.
Ben chuckled. “Ah, I’m no one special. You were heading to the Strip?”
“I am.”
“Let me guess-for gambling? Booze?”
“Actually, to look for a friend.”
Ben looked mildly surprised. “Is that so? Usually that answer’s paired with that other.”
“But, before I head on, you seem like an interesting character. What’s your story?”
“Mm, well, I've done a bit of everything around here - courier, butcher, crier, escort, gun for hire...Some of which I'm not proud of, but I do my best to help around town when needed.”
“Hm. Courier. You hear of that courier that got shot in the head on the radio?”
“Exactly one of the reasons I got out of that job. Too many shifty characters looking to have someone else move their hot items.”
“And...butcher? How’d you get into that?”
“My father ran a butcher shop here in town, but business went downhill when another vendor started selling this strange meat at half of our prices.”
“That sounds...odd.”
“You're telling me. Not long after my father's shop went under and he passed away from the loss, people around town started experiencing shakes. No one gets shakes like that unless they're eating human flesh, but no one would believe me. The sick bastard gradually went insane and passed away. Wasn't long before someone moved into the guy's place and found half-buried human remains in the crawlspace. I didn't bother saying told ya so.”
“Hm.” Guy decided to reconsider buying any meat in Freeside. “So, what about the crier job?”
“After a while I made enough money to get a passport into Vegas. Back then you could get approved for entry for a fraction of what it costs now. Well, I got a job working as a crier outside of The Tops advertising for the local talent performing at the casino. That didn't last long.”
“What happened?”
“Well, being a suave young guy, I chatted up the ladies from time to time, and one of the managers' girls started to take a liking to me. I never touched the woman, but the jealous prick decided it was my time to go. He framed me by saying I'd stolen from the casino. Sure enough, a few grand was missing from the casino vault. I have to assume the bastard stole the funds and figured I was a convenient fall guy.”
“Ah, I see. Happens all the time, but it never hurts less. Sorry, Ben, that’s awful.”
“Yeah, but what can you do? I was stripped of my casino apartment and all of my belongings and booted back into Freeside. From there I didn't have a lot of career options, as my rep was destroyed. So, the escort job sort of fell into my lap, no pun intended.”
“Ah, so, pros-” Guy paused and cleared his throat. “I mean, ah, you were an escort, then?”
“Yep. I was damn good at my job, too. But after a while I just felt like a piece of meat and had to quit.”
“Ah, I don’t blame you. I got into the business myself, for a bit between tours.”
“You do remind me of myself at that time.”
There was a silence that only lasted a few seconds, but felt much longer.
“That came out wrong, didn’t it?”
“That came out pretty bad, Old Ben.” Arcade affirmed.
“I’m sorry, son, I didn’t mean it like that. You don’t look like a prostitute.”
Guy decided to change the subject. “So, gun-for-hire, what was that job like?”
“Oh, yes. When I quit the escort job, I had enough money to buy a pistol belt and some other gear. Bodyguards make a good honest living, and I had the wits and physical build to handle most thugs. After saving a few tourists from trouble, I got a reputation for being a stand-up guy again, and after a decade managed to save up enough to retire.”
“That’s quite a rollercoaster of a life, Ben.”
Ben laughed, “Sure was. Y’know, it wasn’t all good, it wasn’t all bad, either. Wouldn’t take any of it back.”
“Heh. Well, that’s all a man can really ask of life, I suppose. It was a pleasure meeting you, Ben.”
“I realize I never got your name, sir.”
“Guy, Guy De Devaul.”
“And it is quite the name! Good luck finding your friend, Mr. Devaul.”
“And good luck to you, Ben. I hope you enjoy your retirement.”
Guy headed past Ben and towards the securitrons as he passed one of the passports to Arcade. The securitron near the front of the fenced-in area around the gate rolled on a single wheel towards Guy and Arcade, the screen on it displaying a cartoon portrait of a police officer.
“Submit to a credit check or present your passport before proceeding to the gate. Trespassers will be shot.”
“We’ve got passports.” Guy held out his passport. Arcade held out his, looking noticeably tense.
The securitron looked at the passports. “You may proceed.” It turned to Chico, “Is this animal ‘pet’?”
“Correct.”
The securitron turned back to Guy. “You may proceed.”
They hurried past the Securitron and towards the gate. Guy grabbed some of the iron framework and pushed it open.
There was a clear divide between the Strip and Freeside.
The roads and sidewalks were paved with much newer-looking, cleaner concrete. To the left was the huge, glowing tower marking the Lucky 38 To the right was a larger, though shorter casino, decorated with a fire and brimstone theme, with words outside reading “Gomorrah.” There were about three strippers outside, although, to Guy’s disappointment, the establishment’s outdoor entertainment seemed more geared towards straight men and lesbians. Presumably. A multitude of pilgrims for Vegas and NCR soldiers were wandering about, most of them too drunk to walk straight. More securitrons were rolling about, with two outside the Lucky 38 at the bottom of the low stairs that led to its sealed entrance. Music was playing from speakers around the Strip, making the din louder than it already was.
“The Strip. Just as I thought it would be.” Arcade didn’t sound pleased to be there.
“Don’t worry, we won’t be going far. Considering the Gomorrah's ‘services,’ May’s most likely to be around here.”
They only needed to look through the crowd of NCR soldiers around the Gomorrah strippers for a while before Guy noticed a familiar face.
“May! Hey, May!”
She looked much different than when Guy last saw her. Last he saw her, she was the leader of her own offshoot from the Jackal Gang. She was often covered in dirt, bruises, and scars, and seemed to wear it all with pride. Now, she looked much more like everyone else in the Strip. Her face was clean, her hair was clean-cut, short, and proper, and more surprisingly, she was wearing a suit, much like Guy’s. He always remembered her saying she hated fancy clothes.
However, she still looked quite intimidating, as all her scars, as well as her gray-streaked hair and worn face remained. As Ralph said, certainly not someone to mess with. She seemed distracted until Guy called her. She looked around in confusion for a bit before spotting him, looking around again, and heading over. They stepped away from the crowd and the oppressive noise.
“Guy? That you?” She grinned and clapped him on the shoulder. “Never thought I’d see the day. You gotten used to not being a soldier boy anymore?” She looked at Arcade and whistled. “Sure seems like you’ve gotten used to it.”
“What? Oh, no, he’s not-” Guy smiled. “Listen, I’m just glad to see you again, May.”
“Glad to see you too, kid. So, who’re you?” She nodded at Arcade.
“Arcade Gannon. You must be May Itou.”
She snorted. “Arcade? I didn’t even know Arcade was a name. Isn’t that the name of those old, fancy malls y’see in magazines?”
“I’m sorry my mother didn’t predict that you wouldn’t like that name.”
“Damn, he’s sassy, isn’t he?” She chuckled. “You always liked the real bitchy poindexters.”
“Heh, yeah, well, he’s not a...partner, if that’s what you’re asking.”
“Ah, alright.” May crossed her arms. “So, why are you here?”
“I was going to ask you the same thing.”
May laughed. “Did you see those girls at the Gomorrah? Those are the best strippers I seen since New Reno.” She stopped. “Wait, no, nevermind. Wrong guy to ask.”
“May, you always said you’d rather die than be somewhere like this. Let alone in a fancy costume.”
“Well, times change, Guy. And it’s not a friggin’ costume.”
“So you left the gang?”
She paused. “Well...no, I didn’t.”
“Why aren’t they with you, then?”
May furrowed her brow and looked at the ground.
“May…”
“Okay, fine, there’s an...issue. With the gang, but listen, kid, it’s not a big deal. I came to the Strip to take care of it myself.”
“By watching Strippers?” Arcade replied drily.
“Shut up.”
“May,” Guy continued, sterner. “What happened?”
“Nothing, alright? It’s just a...little problem. I’ve always taken care of shit myself. You don’t gotta help me, kid.”
“Why won’t you tell me what happened?”
“Because you won’t like what you’ll hear.”
Arcade looked at Guy. Guy sighed heavily.
“May, we’re friends. At least, I think we are. I knew I could trust you when I was just a kid, and…I know you feel like you need to be more responsible, but everyone needs help. Let me pay you back. Please.”
“It’s...it’s not…” May took a deep breath and put her hand over her face. “I...fine. Fine, okay? I’ll tell you. But let’s go somewhere...private.”
They headed towards the space between the Gomorrah and the wall behind separating them from Freeside. May glanced out towards the Strip, then back towards Guy and Arcade.
“Okay, listen, guys, I am in some deep shit right now. I made a really, really, really shitty decision, I fucked up, and now, I’ve screwed everyone else. You won’t tell no one about it?”
“Of course, May.”
“You have to promise, kid.”
“I promise not to tell anyone.”
“Not just that. Promise you will not interrupt, and you will hear me all the way through, and leave your comments for the end. Including Arcade.”
“Then…I promise I will not interrupt you. Arcade?”
“I’m curious now, so, I promise.”
May took a deep breath. “Alright, so, I guess it started when me and the gang were running into some hard times. Even though I’d told them to cut down, Frankie and Taylor had drained all of our caps for their damn chems, and we needed water. And clean water, too. We couldn’t hack any more that irradiated shit or I swear, we woulda started glowing. So...a...uh, a Legion patrol came by. I had Frankie go ask ‘em about it.”
“You-” Arcade began.
Guy cleared his throat. Arcade sighed and stayed quiet.
“Listen, we wouldn’t have done it if we weren’t real fuckin’ desperate. We were down south, middle of the goddamn desert, none of us had even seen clean water in weeks. Hell, I’d bet months.” She sighed. “Anyway, they were...nice. Nicer than I thought they’d be. Sorta unnerved me. ‘Specially considering I’m not a guy. But, they gave us water, and even some fixer. The guy who looked like he was sort of leading ‘em, he said his name was Cornelius. He let us know that we owed him, that’s for sure. Frankie even said if we came across chems, we’d gladly give him what he wanted. He just sort of nodded and walked away. Well, months later, somehow, Neil finds us again. He says he needs...people. You know. Slaves. And we’re not gonna do that. We might be thieves, but we ain’t slavers. So we said, y’know, we’ll help with anything else you want, but we ain’t doing that. Well, Neil gets pissed. Start ranting about how he helped us and how now we wouldn’t help him, how we were ‘degenerates’ and shit. We kept trying to tell him we’ll help with anything else, but he wouldn’t listen. Well, he got real quiet around the fifth time we said it. He said something in...that Legion language-”
“Latin,” Arcade interrupted.
“Latin, whatever, I don’t care, he said something in that language to his friends, then left. Well, that night…I went off ‘cause I saw some caravans headin’ down the road, then smoke. I figured I could just pick off whatever was left. Well, I did just that, I came back, they’re gone. All of them. They...they left a note. It said that since I was the one that wanted to ask for water in the first place, that if I came here and...talked to Neil, they’d let me trade myself for them. I’ve just been passing the time ‘til he gets here.”
“When will he get here?”
“He’s supposed to get here at 2:30, I think,
Guy adjusted his suit’s sleeve and looked at the old leather and silver watch on his left wrist, “So, 30 minutes.”
May sighed. “So, go ahead. Tell me I’m stupid. You deserve it, kid.”
“Why would you ask for help from a Legionary?!” Arcade questioned quietly, but harshly, “Or promise them anything?!”
“I fuckin’ told you, we were desperate.”
“May, you can’t trade yourself for them.” Guy added firmly.
“Then what am I supposed to do? Fight them? Guy, I act like tough shit, and normally I am, but even I can’t go up against Legionaries. They’d kill me, and sell the gang, and nothing’d be accomplished.” She sighed. “I’m smuggling a revolver with me. I’ll just...make sure I go out on my own terms, once the others get far enough away. Not as if I’m gonna get a better death than this.”
“They’d just sell all of you once they’ve gotten you. This is clearly just a ruse to get you, too,” Arcade interjected again.
“...I know, but it’s not like I have any other choice. This is why I didn’t want to tell you, kid. You always want to help, and you just can’t sometimes. I gotta take care of this myself.”
“We…” Guy paused. “We can work it out. Talk to him.”
Arcade scoffed incredulously. “Talk? To a Legionary? Do you hear yourself?”
“I can hear myself fine. May, I’ll come with you.”
“What?” May blinked.
“What?” Arcade echoed her sentiment. “Guy-”
“Do you want May to be enslaved by the Legion?”
“Of course not, but-”
“So we’re helping-excuse me, me and Chico are helping her. You don’t have to if you don’t want to.”
Arcade sighed and pinched the bridge of his nose, under his glasses. “I’ll help. Obviously. But this isn’t going to end well.”
May looked at her watch again. “Well, let’s hurry up, then. 28 minutes left.”
“Right, right.” Guy thought for a moment. “I don’t know what Neil will be trying, so I think we’re just going to have to wing it.”
“Great plan.” Arcade muttered.
“Do you have one?”
“...I have a couple. One is sort of iffy, and would only work if we had someone good with pickpocketing. The other, I think you can hack.”
“I’ll go with the one I can handle.”
“...Alright, you seem to be good with words. Maybe it would be possible to ‘convince’ Neil to tell you where they are. But we can’t let him know you’re with May, for obvious reasons.”
“Oh, Guy’s great with ‘convincing’ men, aren’t you?” May grinned at Guy.
Guy chuckled sheepishly. “Well, I’m fair. But I’ll try it.”
“Good. Hm. If he’s not here yet, me and May will wait in the next section of the Strip, in the Tops. Once you’ve gotten the information, or if you couldn’t get it out of him, meet us there.”
“Sounds like a plan. May, what does Neil look like?”
“He’s about your height, white guy, looks like he’s never smiled in his life. I remember he had pretty long hair, kept it in a ponytail, it was either black or brown.”
“Alright. I’ll find out where the gang is, I promise, May. Arcade, you and her can go wait at the Tops now. I’ll wait.”
“Good luck, Guy.” Arcade nodded and headed for the gate to the next section of Strip, opposite the entrance gate. May waved and followed Arcade.
Guy blended into the crowd by the Gomorrah and watched the gate, waiting.

Neil was very punctual. He arrived at 2:30, on the dot. Guy took a breath and approached after he stopped to look at his watch.
He fit May’s description, and was wearing a rather worn brown suit with a black tie. The outfit was a bit big for him, and, oddly enough, he looked almost as nervous as May had.
“Excuse me, sir?”
Neil looked up anxiously as Guy approached.
“Oh, er, hello.”
“Do you know your way around?”
“...I think so. I…haven’t been to the Strip before.” He spoke cautiously and precisely.
Guy chuckled. “Heh, me neither. Maybe we can stick together.”
“Maybe.”
“I realize I didn’t even ask for your name.”
“...Neil. Neil Ross.”
“Neil Ross, what a nice name. I quite like it, it’d be easy to sing ,wouldn’t it?”
Neil was obviously getting flustered, but was decent at keeping his voice even. “I suppose so.”
“I’m Guy. Guy De Devaul. You know, I actually came by the Strip hoping that I’d find a man as handsome as you.”
Neil was getting more flustered, “Oh. Er. Right. Thank you?”
Guy had a feeling he wasn’t an experienced Legionary. Most knew better than to be led on. EIther way, it was good news for Guy, as Neil seemed to have taken the bait.
“Where do you come from, Neil?”
“...Here. Nevada.”
“Alright, that’s a start. Well, I’m from California.”
“Oh. NCR?”
“Oh, no. Everyone assumes that. I mean, I am a citizen, technically, but that’s just because anyone living in Cali has to be to work anywhere half-decent. Partly why I came here. Of course, now they’re coming here. Just my luck.”
“Sorry.”
“It’s okay, completely understandable.” Guy glanced at the entrance to the Gomorrah. “Why don’t we go get a drink?”
“...I…suppose.” Neil glanced around.
“Is something wrong?”
Neil frowned, “No, I was just…expecting someone.”
Guy chuckled. “I hope it isn’t your boyfriend.”
Neil tensed up. “N-No. No one like that.”
“You’re a little stressed. You definitely need that drink.” Guy gently took Neil’s arm as he headed into the building.

“You’re sure Guy’s got this, then?” Arcade questioned tensely as they sat at one of the tables in the Tops restaurant.
“It was your plan.” May continued louder to reply, “Yes, he’ll be fine. Trust me, he could talk down an angry Deathclaw.”
“Alright. I hope so.” Arcade sighed and looked up at the ceiling. “How do you know Guy?”
“His dad led a gang. I was part of it. Needed the caps, and…well, I didn’t have a high opinion of myself anyhow. Guy was just a kid when I was there. I had to make myself look tough, but I tried to be nice to him when I could. Eventually, I just had to ditch after I shot one of his dad’s goons for tryin’ to come onto me. Soon as I saw Guy around New Reno years later, I could tell from his face that he was his dad’s kid.”
“A gang?”
May paused. “Sorry. If you wanna know, you can ask Guy. I don’t think he wants me flappin’ my gums about his personal shit.”
“...Right.” Arcade stood up. “I’m going to get a drink.”
“I’m guessing you mean a soda or wine.”
“How’d you guess?”
“You Followers aren’t fun enough for real strong alcohol, so when ya do order it, it’s something like wine. Speaking of, grab me a scotch.” She handed Arcade 15 caps.

Guy wasn’t planning on getting Neil drunk, but it seemed like his best bet to getting him to loosen up. Though he was a little apprehensive about it at first, he eventually got accustomed to it, and he certainly got drunk pretty fast.
“You okay, baby?” Guy rubbed his back when he leaned over the table.
“Yes…I…I’m fine. Thank you. I’m not…I don’t…drink often.” Neil spoke much slower than before, presumably to try and not slur his words.
“I’m sorry, I wouldn’t have bought us so many drinks if I knew.”
“No, no, is…it’s okay.” Neil sat up, taking a deep breath, and ran a hand over his face. “I feel…okay, I feel good.”
“Good. I’m only having fun if you are, y’know.” Guy smiled and took his hand as he placed it on the table.
“Oh. T…Thank you.”
“You’re so tense, even when you’re tipsy. Try to relax. Can’t let that stress mar such a handsome face.” Guy gently touched Neil’s cheek, making him draw back a bit and turn redder than before.
“Thanks…I…I don’t know what else to say.”
“Oh, it’s okay. You don’t have to say much if you don’t want to. It’s nice just being with someone you like, hm?”
“Y-Yes, I suppose it is.”
“Really, though. The stoicism is attractive, but try to let yourself relax a bit, okay?”
“I know. I-I know, I don’t…I work so much, it’s just…” Neil shook his head.
“It’s hard to turn it off. I know.”
“Yes. Exactly. I have…I have a good score, but…I don’t know…I had to be, erm…” Neil paused. “Un…co…con…”
“Unconventional?”
“Yes.”
“Well, every good businessman is willing to be unconventional if it can net him a good deal. Right?”
“Exactly.” Neil took another sip of the brandy he had ordered.
“So, what deal is this exactly?”
“It’s…” Neil stopped.
“Sorry, must be confidential, right?”
“Y…Yes. Yes, it is. S-Sorry.”
“You know it’s okay. But if you need any help, I can offer mine.”
“No, it’s…” Neil sighed. “I don’t…I’m just…worried about…”
“Are you sure I can’t help?”
“...You wouldn’t.”
“I think you’re underestimating me.”
“Nevermind, nevermind…” Neil finished his brandy, recoiling at the intensity, and was quiet for a long minute before he spoke again. “What…d’you know about Legionaries?”
“As in, Caesar’s Legion?”
“Yeah.”
“Well…” Guy looked around the theater dining room they were in and leaned forward. “I don’t think they’re all bad.”
“Really?”
“Certainly not as bad as everyone says, you know? I think they’ve got the right idea. I’ve seen how unsuccessful the NCR is in their own endeavors. Seems better to just start from scratch, right?”
“Right.”
“Not to mention, I imagine they’d be more friendly to me than the NCR ever was.” Guy squeezed Neil’s hand. “Both of us, really.”
“...Oh. Yes, you’re righ’...I mean…” Neil paused.
“Hm?”
“Nevermind, uh...Would you want someone to bring you there? East? To them?”
“Oh, well…I would, but…I can’t imagine I’d be so lucky to meet a legionary who’d be willing to bring both of us. I do quite like you, and I would feel awful just leaving you here.”
“...I…might…I can do that.”
“You can? Do you know anyone?”
“Yeh…Um…” Neil looked around before looking back at Guy. “Me.”
“You? Really?”
“Yes, I’m…I came here for…work, I told you.”
“And you work for…?”
“Yes, but, jus’...keep it down.” Neil was starting to slur his words more as he got more nervous.
“I know.” Guy lowered his voice. “You would really do that for me?”
“I could. If you can…I can only bring you.”
“That’s…okay. I don’t have anyone else. Just you.” Guy placed his other hand on Neil’s arm. “Thank you so much.”
“It’s…”
“I think I could pay you back.”
“You…you could?”
“You said you were worried about your business. What was it? I might be able to help.”
Neil lowered his voice further, prompting Guy to lean closer. “My men are…bringing cargo to a site south. It’s-It’s by…Nipton. East of…Nipton, between there and Novac.”
“I see.”
“It’s…there is a…an outpost? Station? The NCR, they’re close to it. And they tell me…not to worry, but…”
“Hm…that is risky, even if the NCR is stretched thin out here.” Guy paused. “I can help.”
“Y’can?”
“I know some people in the NCR. They’re desperate for information. Honestly, they’ll believe any tips they get, if it’s from an NCR citizen. So, I could tell them that they need to focus on the area west of Nipton, by the Mojave Outpost. Divert their attention. It’ll be easier for your men to get the cargo down there, and you won’t have to worry about them running into you.”
Neil blinked, steadying himself on the table. “...That…that’ll work.”
“You’re sure?”
“Sure. Yes, sure, tha’s…that’s very helpful.”
“I’m glad I can return the favor.” Guy squeezed his arm. “Now…we can get to business tomorrow. Tonight, how about I show you how happy I can make you once we’re across the river?”
“...Are…are you…er…”
“Hm?”
Neil shook his head. “No, no, never…don’t…nevermind.”
“Would you get us a room, then? I’ll make sure I’m all ready, and then I’ll join you upstairs, hm?”
“Yes, of…of course.” Neil stood up shakily. “I…I’ll…I will see you there.”
“Mmhm. See you then, sweetheart.”
Neil stumbled away to the bartender, and presumably the woman who rented out the rooms. Guy stood up and stepped away as Neil was distracted paying up for the room. The noise and the dim light was more than enough to allow him to slip out of the Gomorrah undetected.

The next section of the Strip housed an NCR-owned building that led to the monorail to Camp McCarran, a large, fancy casino called “The Ultra-Luxe,” and a comparatively less fancy-looking casino with the sign outside displaying the name - “The Tops.” Below it was a changeable letter sign displaying acts, presumably for the theater inside, though they only seemed to have one.
The front doors led into a bright, tall lobby, with a large, circular counter, and the gray-suited men next to it, blocking the way into the rest of the Casino. Behind the counter were two men in white suits, one of whom greeted Guy as he entered.
“Hey, hey, fella, welcome to The Tops casino and hotel! I’m going to have to ask you to hand over any weapons you might be carrying.”
“Of course, one moment.” Guy drew his rifle and put it on the counter along with his 12.7mm pistol. He kept his combat knife on him, hidden, just in case. “Here we go.”
“Smooth and easy, just the way I like it. Don’t worry, they’ll be safe as kittens till you’re ready to leave.”
Guy paused. “I’m sorry, are you flirting with me?”
“Hey, no, we’s don’t swing that way, baby.” The other man behind the counter chimed in.
“It’s just that most straight men I’ve met don’t call me ‘baby.’”
“Well, that’s just how we roll here in The Tops, baby. Ring-a-ding, as I always say.”
Guy didn’t know what that meant, so he opted to just ignore it.
“Sorry, who are you?”
“The name’s Swank. Me and Benny run this joint.”
“Huh. Nice to meet you, Swank. Guy De Devaul’s the name.”
“Ha! Fancy name, that is.”
“I’ll take that as a compliment. Anyways, do you have any jobs you need done? I’m always looking for extra caps.”
“You might have a jaw at Tommy Torini up in the Aces. He’s always looking for talent scouts.”
“The Aces?”
“You haven’t been here long, have ya? The theater. Our theater, ya get it?”
“I get it. Say, did you see a man and a woman come by here?”
“We get a lotta people around here, buddy. What’d they look like?”
“The man’s a bit taller than me, pale, blonde hair, wearing a Followers lab coat, the woman’s an older Asian lady, short black hair, suit.”
“Oh! Poindexter and the Asian chick. Yeah, they went over to the restaurant.”
“Alright, and the restaurant is…”
“Down the hall under the stairs, last door when you turn right.”
“Right, thanks. I’ll see you later, Swank.”
“Sure, Guy, see ya.”
The restaurant looked like an old-world diner, with red booths and a checkered floor. A lay counter to the left with drinks, food, and a bartender behind it. Sat at one of the tables was Arcade and May, talking mainly, it seemed, about Freeside. However, their conversation petered out when they noticed Guy.
“So…?” May questioned.
“They’re being brought to a Legion camp somewhere between Nipton and Novac.”
“See? I told you he could do it.” May grinned with pride. “Thanks, Guy. I knew you could do it.”
“Thank you, May. Did...any friends of his come by here?”
“Nope. All quiet.
“Good. Then let’s go get your friends.”
“Wait, Guy,” May stood up. “I’ll be alright by myself from now on, kid.”
“What? May-”
“Guy, this is something I want to do myself. I don’t want anyone thinking they can fuck with my gang and get away with it. So…I need to send the message alone.”
“Are...you sure?”
“I’m sure.” May nodded. “Listen, I won’t forget this. Thank you so much. I don’t have anything to offer right now, but…” She thought for a moment. “We have a camp set up in a farmstead near a road to the north west of here. I hid some stuff around it, and once I get the gang back there, you guys can swing by. We’ll give you some supplies and a place to stay.”
“You don’t…thank you, but just stay safe.”
“I know, kid, I know. And…”
“And…?”
May paused, turning her eyes to the ground for a moment, before looking back at Guy’s face. “...Nothin’. Just, I’d be happy to see you there, once everyone’s okay.”
“I’ll try to make it out there.”
“Good. We’ll be back there in no time.” May took a deep breath. “Okay, is Neil still distracted?”
“I told him to wait for me in a Gomorrah hotel room, though I’m not sure how patient he is.”
“Well, just in case, I better go quick. Again, thank you so much.”
“Stay safe, May.”
“You too, Guy.” May hugged Guy tight. “I’m happy you’re doin’ okay, kid.”
After a moment, she let go, pat him on the shoulder with a reassuring smile, and headed out of the restaurant.
Arcade turned to Guy as he sat down. “Do you think she’ll be okay?”
“May’s a tough lady. I think she can do this.”
“...She mentioned your father.”
Guy sat at the booth, “Well, I told you, he was an asshole.”
“You just haven’t talked about him a lot.”
“What about your dad?”
“What about him?”
“Well, you haven’t talked about him, either.”
“My father was a soldier, he died on a mission. That’s…really it.”
“A soldier? Your father was NCR?”
“...Yeah.”
“Hm. I wish my father could be regarded as well as yours.”
“Maybe. Maybe my father wasn’t that great. I’ve never met him myself, and I obviously never will, so…I can’t really give an honest opinion about him, I guess. So, who exactly was your father, then?”
Guy sighed, “He, um…he led an off-shoot of the Jackal gang. If it weren’t for May and another member of his gang, I’m sure I would have turned out like him. I didn’t, thankfully, but I…I still try not to get too heated. It brings out too much of him in me.”
“Oh.” Arcade looked at the table. “Well, thanks for telling that. That was personal.”
“I feel like putting trust in you helps you to be able to trust in me.”
“I guess. But, thank you anyway.” Arcade sounded uncharacteristically solemn.
“...Oh, I almost forgot.” Guy reached into his backpack and brought out the Matter Modulator.
“The prototype? Why didn’t you sell it?”
“I wanted to give it to you.”
Arcade sat up, looking taken aback. “Really?”
“You seemed excited to find it.” Guy held out the rifle.
Arcade took the gun and stared at it.“I’m...not really sure what to say. Well, I mean, other than thank you, obviously.”
Guy smiled. “It’s worth it to see you happy about it. I’m reckoning all it needs is a few fixes from you and a weapons expert, and it should be good as new.”
Arcade actually smiled, the most Guy had seen since the tail end of their REPCONN expedition. “Seriously, this is…very nice of you. I mean, not that I thought you were an asshole or anything, but…it’s just…I guess I wasn’t expecting you to be…legitimately nice. Thanks, really.”
“You’re welcome.” Guy returned the smile, his mood elevated once more. “Now, I’m starving. What say we try one of those dinners they offer here?”

Chapter Text

Jake was waiting at the sign at the eastern exit out of town, welcoming them to Nevada. Luci and Charon joined him in looking at the car-choked canyon passage not long after he had arrived.
“I hope the rest of Nevada isn’t this bad.” Jake looked back at them and at Nipton as they approached.
“I wouldn’t get my hopes up.” Luci looked up at the tops of the passage. The sides were somewhat steep, but Luci saw more than enough places to get a good foothold. She didn’t like walking through mountain passes unguarded if she could help it.
“Do you have a map on that Pip-Boy, by the way? You should have a satellite map.” Jake pointed at the Pip-Boy on her arm.
“Huh. Oh, yeah. I haven’t used it a whole lot.” Luci looked at the screen and switched to the satellite map.
Jake looked over at the screen, looked at his own screen, and nodded. “Okay. I assume you wanna get to Vegas?”
“I’m actually tryin’ to find a guy who’s, uh…heading there through Nipton, and…Novac?”
“Yeah. That would be our next stop.” Jake pointed to a place on his map. “One of those NCR guys at the outpost told me it’s around here. Should be past this passage, and a mile or two further down the main road. But if those Roman guys were heading east, we might wanna make a detour to track them down.”
“Sure. If we find anywhere high up after we’re outta the pass, I say we take a look around. We should have a general idea of where we’re goin’ before we just walk out into the open desert.”
“Okay. We’ve got a plan, then.” Jake switched off his Pip-Boy as Luci did the same.
They started on their way down the road, keeping their weapons at the ready and slipping past the old cars. Luci kept her eyes upwards, on the ridges of the canyon passage. After a few minutes, she stopped and stepped over to one of the old cars.
“Hey, this one looks like it might still have somethin’ in it.”
“Really?” Jake approached her and looked into the car.
“Yeah, you can actually strip some good parts from these things, if you know what you’re lookin’ for. C’mon, look.”
Jake leaned further into the car next to her. Luci glanced behind her, making sure Charon was still keeping an eye out, and turned back to the car, lowering her voice.
“I saw some movement up there.”
“You-” Jake cleared his voice and started whispering. “You did? Do you think it’s an animal or something?”
“Way it was movin’, it ain’t a bug, or a scorpion. Either a coyote or someone crouching down. D’you got your rifle, still?”
“Yeah. You’ve got a laser one, right?”
“Won’t need it. I’m gonna circle back to the entrance, climb up. You and Charon get ready to hide. Plenty of cover ‘round here.”
“Got it.”
Luci stood up and raised her voice. “Shit, I know I saw a wrench back in that store. I’m gonna go grab it, y’all stay here and make sure no one takes our shit.”
“No problem.” Jake stood up.
Charon watched Luci as she headed back to the entrance. Once she was out of sight of Jake, she placed Dante on the ground and turned to the cliff face.
“Sorry, boy, but I don’t want you gettin’ eaten. Or shot.”
Dante meowed plaintively, waited until she started climbing, then started up after her.
“You’re a stubborn little man. Better not get shot.” Luci snorted as she found another foothold and pushed herself up, checking to make sure Dante hadn’t fallen.
Once she was atop the cliffs, she found them to be more like uneven hills. She stayed low to the ground, clutching her pistol, and advanced along the hills, Dante at her heels.

Just as she thought, further up the top of the passage, she could just see people hiding out behind the rocks and scraggly bushes. Luci promptly hid behind an outcropping and drew her laser rifle. Dante trotted over to her and hid under her leg as she checked how much ammo she had for it. A few shots, at least.
She peeked over the outcropping, aimed the laser rifle, and shot one of their would-be ambushers just as they stood up.
“Oh, SHIT!” One of them yelped as the first person hit the ground, prompting the others to start firing into the canyon passage. Luci briefly looked down at the road, making sure Jake, Charon, and Dogmeat had been able to get to cover in time, before continuing to fire at the ambushers intermittently, though it was difficult to get a good shot while avoiding the volley of gunfire. Just as she hid to reload, she heard more cries from the ambushers just before an explosion sounded from their cover. She turned and checked to see those that hadn’t been blown back by the explosion had been scattered, and she was easily able to pick them off in their confusion. She waited in her cover a moment longer, waiting to see if any of them were left, before standing up and looking down into the passage.
“Hey! I think we’re good!” She held up her thumb and grinned triumphantly.
Charon emerged from their cover behind the cars first, followed by Jake and Dogmeat.
“Did you see that throw Charon pulled off?!” Jake called enthusiastically.
“Uh, nah, but I saw what it did.”
“Yeah! Good job, man!” She could hear Jake congratulate Charon as he slapped him on the back.
Charon said nothing.
“Okay! Did they have anything on them?”
“One sec.”
Luci quickly searched the bodies, but didn’t find too much of value other than some ammunition, canned food, and dirty water.
“Alrigh’, I’m comin’ down!”
“Cool! See you down here!” Jake waved as Luci disappeared back over the edge of the passage.

“Seriously, great lob, Charon!” Jake continued talking up Charon as they headed down the road. “Y’know, you would’ve been a great pre-war pitcher!”
“A what?” Luci raised a brow.
“...You know, like, in baseball. He throws the ball.”
“Oh, shit, yeah, baseball.” Luci chortled. “Heheh. Okay. Yeah, he would be.’
Charon seemed ambivalent to their conversation.
“Say, have you tried your radio?” Jake pointed at Luci’s Pip-Boy.
“Not yet.” Luci switched over the radio and looked over the stations. “There’s a couple o’ stations here. What didja want?”
“Radio New Vegas is pretty good.”
Luci tuned to the channel Jake recommended just as the host’s smooth voice crackled to life over the radio.
“Ladies and gentlemen, welcome to our program. This is Mr. New Vegas, and each and every one of you is wonderful in your own special way. It's just about time to get you some news.” After a moment’s pause, the host continued. “A package courier found shot in the head near Goodsprings has reportedly regained consciousness and made a full recovery. Now that's a delivery service you can count on.”
“Heheh, they already got news ‘bout that?” Luci grinned.
“Oh yeah, he was saying that yesterday. News spreads fast, I guess. Did you see them?”
“Who?”
“The courier.”
“Well, of course I saw ‘em, they’re me.” Luci grinned.
Jake blinked. “Wait, seriously?”
“Yep.”
“Holy shit! You got shot in the head?!”
“Sure. I was out for a couple o’ days, though.”
The host’s voice continued, “Goodsprings has fended off a mob of escaped convicts after organizing an impromptu militia, according to an old man armed to the teeth with dynamite.”
“Did you do that?”
“Well, not by myself. But I helped, sure.”
“Shit, you got up after getting shot and just immediately got into a gunfight?”
“Not immediately. It was, what, a day later?”
Jake looked back at the road, wide-eyed. “Goddamn, okay.”
“Heheh. It wasn’t so big a deal. I felt fine after the shootin’ itself.” Luci tapped her head. “Though, some o’ my memories are a little foggy.”
“You feel alright, then?”
“Sure. Don’t worry ‘bout me too much.”
“So, what’re you doing going to Vegas? Or, well, who are you looking for there?”
“The square that shot me.”
“Square?”
“Yeah, Gelled hair, stupid-lookin’ checkered suit. Y’seen him?”
“Not myself, no.” Jake shrugged. “Sorry. You remember him, then?”
“Yeah. He’s a slick-lookin’ asshole. Won’t feel bad ‘bout killing him.”
“...Uh, sure. But, um…will it make you feel…not bad?”
“What d’ya mean?”
“I mean, would it make you feel better?”
Luci grinned. “Sure.”
“...Uh. Okay.”
“By the by, you don’t sound like you’re from around here.”
“Neither do you.”
“Well, sure, I’m from a little down southeast. Texas.”
“Really? So I guess you’re like a cowboy, then.” Jake smiled humorously.
“Heheh. Sorta. But you sound like a city-slicker. No offense.”
“Nah, I am. I’m from Washington, D.C. Not the Washington here, the one on the East coast.”
“Shit, really?”
“Yep. I just sorta decided to wander West when my business there was over.”
“What was your business there?”
Charon glanced at Luci, then at Jake. Jake looked at the ground and shrugged.
“Just personal stuff. Nothing important now.”
“Hm. Alrigh’, you don’t wanna talk, I won’t pry.”
“Thanks.”
“Does it have anything to do with the Tunnel Snakes?” Luci pointed at his jacket. “Name’s kinda stupid, man, I’m not gonna lie.”
“Huh? Oh, right!” Jake snorted as he tried to look over his shoulder, at the print on the back of the jacket. “It’s stupid. A, er, ‘friend’ gave it to me a while back, though, and I think it looks sorta cool.”
“Heheh, well, sure, it looks nice enough.”

It didn’t take long for the passage to open up, the cliffs on their left slowly evening out and the hills on the right breaking away to the south, where a tall windmill had been built atop one hill, and a couple of scrap metal bridges connected their peaks.
“You think there’s anything up there?” Jake pointed up at the windmill, slowly turning in the weak winds.
“Might be.” Luci continued down the road a bit. “Looks like the hills even out a little here. Might as well go around, see what’s up.”
The road curved around the hills, and, indeed, just before an overpass, the ground evened out enough that they could see what lay beyond the windmill - an old shack, accompanied by some other rusted scrap metal sheds and fences, topped with barbed wire. It looked as though someone had once tended a farm there, as well, but the crops had clearly not been taken care of for at least a month or two. Not long, though.
They approached the shack cautiously, keeping their weapons drawn. It could just as well mean that some raiders had killed the farmers there and set up shop. But they didn’t hear anything as they approached. Only the creaking sound of the large, metal windmill, and the soft, weak wind pushing its blades.
Luci approached the shack and pushed open the rusted metal door, holding her pistol up as it screeched open, violently breaking the silence. But no one was inside, either.
It was a small, simple living arrangement, with a bare bed and mattress, a kitchen range, and a fridge, as well as some ammo boxes, an armor locker, and a set of shelves. There didn’t appear to be any lights inside. The shack was dimly lit by only the sunbeams shining down through the cracks in the ceiling.
“What’s in there?” Jake questioned tensely.
“Nothin’.”
“You sure?”
“Pretty sure.” Luci left the door open as she stepped inside, followed by Jake and Charon.
“Stay, Dogmeat.” Jake looked around inside. “Huh. Weird. No signs of a struggle, not here, and not outside.”
“S’pose they just…decided to leave.” Luci opened the armor locker. The most useful thing left inside was a set of leather armor.
“Guess so. They left some stuff behind, though.” Jake opened up one of the ammo boxes by the locker. “I mean, not much, but something.”
“You can search in here. I’m gonna take a look outside.”
Luci stepped back outside into the quiet farm, where Dante leapt to the ground and sniffed about in the dirt.
“You wanna go see if there’s any critters ‘round here?”
Dante turned, looked up at Luci, and meowed.
“Heh. Alrigh’, well. Come on, then.”
Luci headed up to the hills where the metal bridges had been constructed. The creaking was louder up on the platform next to the windmill. The bridge immediately to the right led to a larger hilltop, and on that hilltop lay a lone grave.
It was a simple grave, with the upturned dirt and an unmarked plank of wood marking the hole. Broc flowers were beginning to grow out of the dirt, and an old book and a harmonica had been left atop it.
Luci stopped and kneeled down next to it. Something about it reminded her of her own grave. The one she probably should have stayed in. Mostly because while someone had bothered to leave a marker, they hadn’t bothered to leave a name. Maybe they omitted it on purpose.
She looked at the book. It was a heavy, thick tome, stained with dirt, but she just managed to make out part of the title when she wiped away the dirt - The Odyssey. Looked like whoever was buried there cared about it. Or maybe just whoever left the book there.
The silence was deafening. The longer she stared at the grave, the louder the silence grew, and eventually the wind. It sounded like it was whispering to her.
“LUCI!”
She blinked away her trance and stood up, seeing that Jake had left the shack was standing just outside, waving his hands.
“Y’find anything?!” She called back.
“Not really! You?!”
“Nope!”
Luci grabbed Dante from his spot next to the grave and placed him on her shoulder. “C’mon, boy. No time for daydreamin’.”
They headed back to the shack, where Jake, Charon, and Dogmeat were waiting. Charon was having a smoke while Jake was looking through his bag.
“I keep telling you to stop doing that.” Jake mumbled as he continued rooting through his bag.
“It won’t kill me.” Charon exhaled the cigarette smoke and looked over at Luci. “What were you doing?”
“Yeah, you were just sitting there. I called you, like, three times before you heard me, I guess.”
“Shit. Sorry.”
“It’s okay. Are you?”
“Yeah, I’m fine. Just thinkin’.”
“O-kay. Well, I was thinking we could stay here and have some lunch.”
“Sounds good to me.” Luci grinned and slipped off her satchel. “Alright. I’m gonna see if I can find any geckos.”
“...We could just eat something canned, y’know.”
“Dante needs it. I don’t think what he eats off them bodies is enough.”
“Should, uh, should you be letting him do that?”
“I don’t see why not. He ain’t as big and strong as a dog, so it ain’t like he’s gonna try and eat me.” Luci grinned. “Anyway. I’ll grab a bite to eat, then I’ll go grab Dante a bit to eat. How ‘bout it?”
“Uh, sure. If you find anything, could you split it between him and Dogmeat?”

“You got some binoculars?”
“Uh, sure.” Jake fished out a pair of binoculars and handed them over to Luci. “Why, what’s up?”
“I just wanna take a look around. There’s a little bit of smoke comin’ from over to the east.”
“Do you think it’s the Legion?”
“That’s why I’m checkin’.”
Luci headed to the edge of the plateau where the ranch lay and scanned the horizon to the east, finding the trail of smoke she’d noticed earlier and tracking its origin. It came from a large campfire in the middle of a camp made up of a few tents, occupied mainly by men in red. Around the fire, others were seemingly kneeling. They seemed to have their heads down and weren’t moving too much, making Luci think those were the Legion soldiers’ captives. Strangely enough, only half of them were wearing the blue jackets most Powder Gangers wore.
Luci lowered the binoculars and headed back over to Jake, who was supervising Dogmeat and making sure he let Dante finish his meal.
“Legion?”
“Mmhm.” Luci handed over the binoculars. “I reckon we can snipe a couple of ‘em. Maybe you or Charon can lay down some cover fire, make sure they’re distracted enough that they don’t hurt the hostages.”
“Alright.” Jake put away the binoculars and slung his backpack over his shoulders. “Let’s go, then.”
They continued around the overpass, towards the camp, and losing sight of it as they reached the road. Once they were closer, just within earshot of the camp, they hid out behind one of the large rocks nearby.
“So, you stay here and snipe ‘em, me, Charon, and Dogmeat will surround the camp and start the ambush when you start firing. Maybe we can blow up that big tent, too. Sound good?” Jake whispered, peeking out from behind the rock.
“Sure, but, y’think you’ll be good?”
“Sure. There’s a lot of rock cover around here. Me and Charon can start the assault, and then take cover.”
They stopped when they heard two of the Legion soldiers start talking, particularly as one stepped out of one of the smaller tents lined with bedrolls.
“Tacitus.” One man wore their usual facewrap, but with a thick layer of feathers sewn into the back of his helmet, framing his head, and spoke with a certain tone that established his authority over the others.
“...Yes, Decanus?”
“You have still not told me why Corneilius did not return with you and your troop.”
“...No. I have not, Decanus, I apologize.”
“It is important that you retain a Veteran in your troop, so as to guide you.”
“I know, Decanus. But…”
“But?”
“One of the frumentarii met us when we were waiting for him. He informed us that Corneilius was apprehended outside of New Vegas.”
“By the NCR?”
“No. The frumentarii.”
“Why is that?”
“...We…were told that Corneilius had acted…inappropriately for a Veteran, and for a Legionary.”
“What did he do, Tacitus?”
“I do not know. I know that his punishment will be severe, and that he is…not likely to survive it.”
The Decanus paused. “...My condolences, Tacitus.”
“Thank you, Decanus, but I understand that his punishment must surely be deserved. I am grateful that the frumentarii were able to root out those among us too weak to preserve our integrity.”
“Wise words indeed, Tacitus. I have no doubts that you will one day become a Decanus yourself. You will deserve your rank far more than Corneilius did.” The Decanus placed a reassuring hand on Taciticus’s shoulder and led him to the large tent. “Come. We-”
Just as the Decanus stepped into the large tent, an explosion went off beneath his feet, blowing him and Tacitus backwards, destroying half of the large tent, and prompting the other Legionaries to their feet.
“DECANUS!” One legionary called just before Luci sent a laser shot through his head.
“OH, GOD, WHAT THE FUCK!” One of the Powder Gangers cried, throwing himself on the ground.
“Did you throw a grenade or somethin’?!” Luci ducked back behind the rock as the Legionaries started firing.
“No! Charon?!” Jake looked, wide-eyed, at Charon, who shook his head. Dogmeat whimpered and ducked behind Jake.
“No time to be a coward, Dogmeat.” Jake pat his side. “Okay, we’re in action! Just keep up the cover fire!”
When Luci and Jake broke cover to keep firing on the Legionaries, they noticed their attention was split between them and the brush around the opposite side of the camp. It also seemed the captives that weren’t Powder Gangers, some rough-looking men and women in leather armor, were significantly more excited about the ambush, whooping and hollering on the ground as the gunfight ensued.
Just as Luci ducked down to reload, another explosion sounded. When she peeked out again, she found that it had mostly blown away the smaller tents, as well as a couple more of the Legionaries. Their squad had been so fragmented by the initial explosion that, once they had started the gunfight, it didn’t take long for them to end. After the gunfire ended, Luci, Jake, and Charon stayed cautiously behind the rock, listening. The silence was broken by one of the captives.
“B-Boss?! Boss! I-Is that you?! Didja do it?!”
Luci peeked out of the cover. “I sure ain’t, but I dunno who else is out here!”
Another long silence, before a voice came from the brush, a woman’s voice.
“I am! Who the hell are you?!”
“We ain’t friends of the Legion guys! Can we talk?!”
After another pause, the woman responded, “Fine! Put away your hardware, I’ll put away mine!”
Luci holstered her pistol and looked at Jake and Charon, who did the same, though Charon did so much more reluctantly.
They cautiously stepped out of cover and into the camp, as a woman emerged from the bushes. She certainly looked like the boss of the other half of the captives, with thick leather armor, a worn, scarred face, and unkempt, short black hair with gray streaks running through it. She was true to her word, and had put away her Sawed-off when she met them.
“Why’re you here?” She questioned curtly, looking suspiciously between them.
“For them.” Luci pointed at the Powder Gangers.
One of the Powder Gangers looked up from the dirt at her, looking taken aback when he saw her. “For us?!”
“I don’t much like anyone who robs and kills for fun, but no one deserves this.” Luci looked back at the woman. “I’m Lucía Perez. My friends here are Jake Morgan and Charon.”
“...Alright. May. May Itou.”
“Boss!” One of the captives cheered, prompting the others to join them.
May grinned. “Alright, settle down. D’you guys mind if I cut my pals loose?”
“Go ahead. I’ll let y’all loose, too.” Luci kneeled down and cut loose the Powder Gangers, who tentatively got to their feet as she did.
“A-Are you gonna kill us?” One questioned shakily.
“Nah. But I might change my mind. So go on, git.”
Luci waved them away, prompting them to cautiously step out of the camp, watching Luci as they left.
“I knew you were comin’ boss, I just knew it!” The last of May’s friends she cut loose, a balding man with a thick beard, scrambled to his feet as she cut him loose and hugged her.
“Ah, fuckin’ hell, Frankie, get off.” May slapped his back, looking glad to see him regardless of her protests.
“We told ‘em, May!” Another one of her friends, a skinny, gangly woman with a shaved head, added. “We told ‘em, ‘you’ll regret this, ‘cause our boss is gonna fuckin’ kill you when she finds out!’”
“Yeah, well, none ‘a this woulda happened if you and Frankie hadn’t used all our fuckin’ money on chems.” An older black man with braided hair seemed a bit displeased with the woman.
“There ain’t no reason to point fingers now, Hank.” May slapped him on the back. “I’m just happy you guys are all okay.”
“Everyone’s good, then?” Jake questioned optimistically.
“Yeah. We’re all good, don’t worry none.” The last of May’s friends, a rather jovial-looking young man, replied in a similarly upbeat tone.
“Sounds like Cornelius got his, too. Good. Piece of shit.” May kicked one of the Legionary’s bodies.
“Who?” Luci raised a brow.
“Maybe you could explain while I take a look at you. I think you got hit.” Jake pointed at Mari’s less armored arm, where a bullet had left a noticeable scar.
“Huh? Oh, shit. You a doctor?”
“Yup!”
“Then, sure.”

“Did your pal actually fuck that guy, or what?” Luci grinned humorously as she interrupted May’s story.
“Hell, no. Trust me, I woulda lost all respect for the kid if he had.” May took another sip of the whiskey Jake had lent her. “Anyway, he got the location of this place outta him. So I headed straight here the second he let me know.”
“He’s a good kid. Guy always comes through.” Hank took the bottle of whiskey when May passed it to him. “Y’say he had someone with him?”
“Yeah, this bitchy little poindexter.”
“Heheh. Yeah, he loves himself them little guys, huh?”
“Nah, this one was a little taller, but that didn’t seem to be deterring him.” May chortled.
“Pfft. Okay.” Jake put away his medical kit. “I woulda killed for a hot girl who’s into nerds when I was a kid.”
“Well, he ain’t a hot girl, kid.”
“Obviously, but, y’know, it’s like, the equivalent for me.” Jake slung his backpack over his shoulders. “I’m assuming you passed by Novac on your way here?”
“Yep. It’s just north of here, past the NCR Ranger Station. Not too far from here. You could probably get there just after dark if you get goin’ now.”
“Thanks!” Jake stood up and looked at Luci. “You wanna just set up camp here or push on to Novac?”
“Pro’ly better to keep going. Novac’ll probably be safer to sleep. Are y’all gonna be okay?” Luci turned to May.
“Yeah, we’ll be fine. We’ve gone through worse than this.” May grinned. “Good luck, kids. I get a feelin’ you don’t need it, if you lived through a bullet to the head, but…well, in case you run out, huh?”
“Heheh. Thanks, Miss May. Good luck to you, too.”
They said their goodbyes, and headed back to the main road, to Novac. The sun was beginning to set when they set out once again, bathing the Mojave in its orange light. Luci looked out west, at the bit of sunlight peeking over the mountains.
“Hey, Jake.”
“Hm?”
“D’ya read alot?”
“Um…depends. Why?”
“D’ya know what, uh…the…’Odyssey’?”
“Sure. It’s a pretty famous old story. Real old story. It’s about…a soldier going across the sea, trying to get home, and trying to escape fate at the same time. I guess. Why?”
“...Nothin’. I hope Novac ain’t much farther.”

Guy and Arcade headed out of the Tops, towards the Vault 21 hotel, after having found out that they apparently had no rooms available. Guy was just thankful that Neil hadn’t come looking for them. However, just before they could enter the hotel, Guy heard someone stop them.
“Hey. Excuse me?”
He turned to see that the deep, soft voice had come from a rather large Asian man with trimmed, slicked back hair. He was wearing a suit, though with no tie and his jacket unbuttoned, implying that he was no longer there for business, and a dog accompanied him. The dog, in fact, looked far more like a wolf with reddish-brown fur and sharp, intelligent eyes that unnerved Chico enough for him to press himself against Guy’s side.
“You were at the Gomorrah.” The man’s voice was even and calm, but firm in his assertion.
“...Yes, I was. Why?”
“The man you were with. His name was Neil?”
“That’s right. Is he causing any trouble?”
“A bit. He was a bit distressed upon finding out you weren’t going to join him, I believe. I did the Omertas a favor, offered to talk to you.”
“I apologize, but Neil is…he was just drunk, and took my flirting too seriously, is all.”
“Oh, no, I don’t mean to pin the blame on you. You seem perfectly respectable, now that I’m speaking to you. The Omertas just wanted me to make sure you weren’t purposely causing trouble. Not good for business.”
“Oh. Well…I’m glad to hear you think so. I do think it was…partially my fault, so…my apologies for the trouble.”
“Your apology is accepted. I won’t tell the Omertas, however. They tend to hold grudges, even for disputes as minor as this, as long as they can somehow get you to cough up money. I personally don’t approve of it.” The man looked at Arcade. “Hm. Your friend’s a Follower. Commendable.”
Arcade opened his mouth to say something, paused when he realized the man’s comment was positive, and continued quietly. “Um. Thanks.”
“Of course. Many here aren’t appreciative of your efforts. Too many mistake genuine kindness for naivete.”
“Exactly. Thanks, again. Were you a member?”
“No. Simply a…admirer, I suppose.”
“I realize I didn’t ask you for your name.” Guy smiled flirtatiously.
“Right. Andrew Long. This is my companion…Alice.” He gestured to his dog, who continued staring at them in a rather unnerving manner.
“Nice to meet you, Mr. Long. I’m Guy de Devaul, and this is my friend, Arcade Gannon.”
“And your dog?” Andrew looked at Chico.
“Oh, yes, of course, this is Chico. Don’t be scared, Chico, come on.”
Chico looked at Alice and whimpered. Alice cocked her head and raised her bushy tail.
“I’m sorry. Alice used to be wild. I think that aspect of her can scare other dogs.” Andrew scratched her head.
“So…why are you here?” Arcade pressed a bit.
“In the Strip?”
“In the Strip,” Arcade continued skeptically, “You don’t seem like the kind of person to be in here.”
“Hm. Well, I’m here for the same reasons as everyone else. Gambling, hookers-”
“Alcohol?”
“I don’t drink. Well, I try not to. I get rash when I’m drunk.”
“I find that hard to believe, if you’re here for gambling and sex.”
“And you can believe whatever you want.”
Guy cleared his throat. “Arcade, Mr. Long can do what he likes.”
“Thank you, but it’s quite alright.” Andrew shrugged ambivalently. “I don’t mind if he chooses to believe otherwise. Anyway.” He whistled, prompting Alice to look up at him. “Maybe I’ll see you around, Guy.”
Guy smiled again. “I sure hope I do.”
Andrew smirked a bit. “It’s Andrew, by the way.”
With that, he turned and continued back down the Strip, Alice following close behind.
“Well, that was weird.” Arcade looked at Guy’s face. “Wow, you are just obsessed, aren’t you?”
Guy blinked. “No. Jealous?” He smiled in amusement.
“Ha ha, very funny.” Arcade turned back to the hotel. “Let’s just go to bed.”
Vault 21, with a flashy, gear-shaped sign marking the entrance just outside, certainly had a realistic vault theme, so much so that Guy immediately thought it was surely a converted vault.
The woman behind the counter at the front desk was a cheery, smiling young woman who greeted them in a similar manner.
“Hi! I'm Sarah, Sarah Weintraub. Welcome to the finest Vault hotel in the whole world!”
“Are there any others?” Arcade questioned drily.
“I don’t know, but if there is, I can pretty much guarantee this one’s the best!”
“I’m sure, Miss Sarah. Guy de Devaul, if you need the name for the guestbook. Do you have any available rooms?” Guy interjected with a polite smile.
“Sure! Um, for…both of you?” She looked between him and Arcade.
“Oh, uh…two separate rooms, if possible?” Guy glanced sheepishly at Arcade.
“Lemme check.” Alice looked through the papers she had on the front desk, presumably her makeshift guest book. “Um, I do have one with two beds. Is that okay?”
“Arcade, is that…?”
Arcade shrugged. “Guy, I’m fine. It’s probably cheaper, anyway.”
“Great, then we’ll take it! How much will it be?”
“For a two bedder? 25 caps!”
“Y’know, Sarah, I plan on staying here often. How about a special price for a special client? Say, 15 caps?” Guy leaned on the counter and grinned..
Sarah’s face flushed a bit as she drew back and looked at the countertop. “Well…Sure! You seem pretty special. But that will be our secret, okay?”
“Of course, miss Sarah.” Guy fished out the caps and placed them on the countertop.
“Thank you!” Sarah took the caps and handed over the peculiar kind of keys used with mechanical vault doors. Go all the way down to the Vault's main game room, take the hallway to your left and then the first room on the left-hand side. Enjoy your stay!
“Goodnight!”
“Oh, uh, goodnight!”
“...You really didn’t need to lead her on like that.” Arcade mumbled as he followed Guy downstairs.
“No harm in a little flirting.”
“There is if she takes it seriously.”
“It got us a better price, didn’t it?”
“...Feels a little callous. That’s all I’m saying.” Arcade stopped as they entered the game room. At that time of night, only a few people were out of their rooms, and a couple were playing a friendly game of Blackjack.
“I would play some cards, but I get a feeling we’re both dead-tired, hm?”
“Absolutely.” Arcade sighed. “Okay. She said the left hallway, right?”
“Mmhm.”
The room was small and cramped, but still consistent with the vault theme. As soon as Guy closed the mechanical door leading inside, Arcade flopped on one of the beds and sighed.
“Oh, god. I’m so tired.”
“Well, I’d say it’s deserved.” Guy slapped Arcade on the back before slipping off his backpack and placing it by the other bed.
Arcade sat up again. “Ugh. I would be fine with doing nothing tomorrow.”
“We’ll see about it, then.” Guy grinned as he took off his suit jacket. “I certainly wouldn’t mind just having a drink or two with you.”
“That’s nice of you to say, but I was thinking something more along the lines of just sleeping.”
“Just sleeping? All day?”
“Yeah.”
“Take it from me, just laying in bed all day isn’t good for the mind.” Guy took off his tie. “I think I’ll change into something more comfortable.”
“Guy, I can’t emphasize enough that I’m too tired to deal with you talking in innuendo.”
“Heh, well, I don’t know what you were thinking, but I just want to sleep in something comfortable.”
“Alright.” Arcade took off his lab coat and the armor he was wearing over his clothes. “I’m gonna try and get some rest while you go do that.”
Chico looked between them before trotting over to Arcade while he was laying down and sniffing at his hand.
“Do you usually let him sleep with you?”
“Oh, I do, yes. Sorry if he’s a little clingy.”
Arcade sighed deeply. “Yeah, uh. You can sit here, Chico.”
Chico whined and rested his head on the edge of the bed.

“Can’t sleep?”
Guy heard Arcade shift in the dark. “Unfortunately not. You?”
“Mm. Same. Nightmares?”
“Yeah. I assume you’re the same in that regard, too?”
“Mmhm.”
“What of?”
“Well, the worst nightmares are memories. For me, anyway.”
“Because it’s more within the realm of possibility?”
“Exactly.”
Arcade sighed. “Mine are less of a probable past and more of a possible future.”
“And what’s that?”
Arcade paused for a long moment. “...Nevermind.”
Guy smiled humorously. “Do you think mystery makes up for a lack of personality, Dr. Gannon?”
“Maybe. I certainly don’t have one. Maybe it’s me subconsciously trying to make up for it.”
Guy chuckled. “I was joking, Arcade. But you are a mystery man.”
“I wouldn’t say that.”
“Then perhaps it’s the other way around. Are you covering it up by saying you’re boring?”
“I don’t know.”
“Hm.” Guy pat Chico’s head when he trotted over to his bed and hopped on his legs. “Well, just remember that I’m here for you, okay? I wouldn’t let anyone hurt you as long as I’m here.”
“...Yeah. Thanks.” Arcade shifted again. He didn’t sound particularly comforted. “Good night.”
“Good night.”

“So, how about we get some breakfast? I think I saw a canteen here.” Guy questioned as he pulled on his suit jacket.
“Sure. As long as you’re paying.” Arcade slipped on his lab coat and stood up, following Guy out of the room and into the hall as they headed to the canteen. “So, what’re you getting?”
“Oh, probably just…a sandwich. A good sandwich is hard to come by. You?”
“Hm…I’ll just get a sandwich, too. Don’t see why not. I assume Chico’s getting a steak?”
“He sure is! Aren’t you, boy?” Guy scratched Chico behind the ears he trotted along next to them, his tongue lolling.
The canteen looked quite like a little, pre-war diner, with checkered floors and shiny, red leather booths. It was pretty busy, with most of the residents of the hotel having come in to get breakfast and some coffee.
“If you’re paying for it, I’ll get the food. You want some coffee, too?” Arcade offered as they stepped inside.
“Oh, I’ll get that myself. But thank you!”
“Got it.” Arcade took the caps Guy handed over and headed over to the counter to get the food.
Before Guy could sit at a booth, Chico turned away, his ears turned up, and trotted away.
“Chico?” Guy stood up and followed Chico to a booth, where a young man sat alone, a fedora hat tipped over his face, and a bottle of beer in his hand, beside two other emptied bottles. He looked up a bit when Chico approached, whining and wagging his tail. He smiled a little bit and scratched Chico’s head.
“It’s a little early to be drinking, isn’t it?” Guy questioned, stepping over to the booth and smiling politely.
“Huh? Oh, shit, he your dog?” He spoke with a notable accent that made him sound like an old mafia gangster, or something of the sort.
“Well, sure. But I don’t mind if he gives some company to someone who needs it.”
The man regained his composure and scoffed dismissively as he looked back at his drink. “Well, do you mind? I'm trying to drink myself to the ground, right here. Scram.”
“Simmer down, baby, just saying hi. Though, this is as good a place to drink yourself to the ground. Even if it’s under the ground, huh?”
The man cracked a smile and guffawed. “Hah! Damn straight! This is about the last place in this fucking city where I can burrow without having to look over my shoulder.”
“Well, sounds like you’re in some serious trouble if you have to quite literally go underground to get some peace. What happened?”
“Who isn't in trouble in New Vegas, uh? Sooner or later, you hit the bottom of the barrel - I just happened to fall harder than most, is all.”
“And how high was the fall?”
The man looked up a bit, revealing a thin face with bold eyebrows and a wispy mustache, his eyes twinkling with nostalgia, just for a bit.
“From the top! Where else, uh? I'm Carlitos - my fingers work the magic and my hands deal the luck! There was no player who'd stood a chance, no wiseguy who didn't fear me, and no doll who could resist me. Gomorrah was my kingdom, Carlitos' turf!”
“A croupier, huh? What was that like, then?”
Carlitos smirked. “Hey, you're smart. Okay, it was like finding diamonds in your vodka and showgirls under your card-table. You want it, Gomorrah has it. It was heaven - until you find that all the glitter is made of broken dreams and all the praise hides a knife pointing at your ribs.” His face fell as he took another swig of his beer, then hardened again when he saw Arcade approaching.
“Hey, I, um, put the food on another…booth…who is that?”
“Who’s your lackey?” Carlitos pointed accusingly at Arcade.
“I’m not his lackey.” Arcade didn’t seem much happier to see Carlitos. “Who’s this?”
“Little Carlos.” Guy grinned.
“Eh, Carlitos.” Carlitos corrected.
“Okay, and…why are we talking to him?”
“He’s talkin’ to me.” Carlitos gestured to Guy.
“He’s in trouble.” Guy turned to Carlitos. “It’s alright. Arcade’s a trustworthy man, and I have a feeling he’s tight-lipped himself, so I’m sure he understands.”
Arcade sighed. “I wouldn’t say that. But I am good at keeping secrets, and I…support Guy’s efforts of helping out wherever he can.”
Carlitos looked a bit doubtful, but slowly nodded. “...Fine. But only ‘cause you’re one of them Followers. You guys might be naive, but at least you ain’t backstabbers.”
“What’s there to see in The Gomorrah, anyway?” Guy pressed.
Carlitos snorted incredulously. “I'd recommend you save your caps and your skin. Check The Tops - no big time wiseguys there. Freeside's also fun, you know? There's too much shit and despair at Gomorrah already. I don't want anybody making it worse for Jo…” He stopped himself for a moment before continuing. “...for the girls, you know?”
“You know we can keep a secret, Carlitos. Who are you worried about?”
“I…” Carlitos paused for a long moment before he continued, his voice cracking a bit. “Okay, it's Joana. She...works at Gomorrah. But it's all my fault! I met her at the Atomic Wrangler - beautiful doesn't even come close. So…I moved her into Gomorrah. I was in love, okay? Then Cachino, the backstabbing snake, got me out of the way so that he could have my girl.” Carlitos paused, looking at Guy. “You okay, man?”
Guy rubbed his eyes, having teared up a bit. Arcade glanced at his face and raised a brow.
“Yes, I’m fine. What’s stopping you from getting her out?”
Carlitos got a bit riled up again. “What, you think I can just waltz in there and take her away? She's their doll now, okay? Besides, I step in Gomorrah and I'm as good as dead, you hear? You don't just leave the Omertas unless it's in a body bag.”
“Okay, I get it.” Guy looked at Arcade. He simply shrugged, looking back at Guy knowingly. “I could check on Joana for you, if you’d like.”
Carlitos slumped back in his chair, looking defeated. “Don't know...She's a dream to me now... If I...I mean, if I could have her again I'd be a made man.” He was quiet for a minute, making Guy wonder if he would even reply, before he furrowed his brow, his anger growing more apparent, before he continued, louder. “Why am I even scared of Cachino and all those fuckers? Joana and I are dead anyway if we don't get the hell out of here. Okay, you try that and let me know. How she looks, what she's wearing, she's safe, anything - I'll pay you, you hear?”
“No need.” Guy stood up from the booth. “Me and Arcade are going to get some breakfast, and the second we’re done, we’re heading to the Gomorrah.
“It’s a deal!” Carlitos seemingly ignored Guy’s rejection of the reward, grinning, but simultaneously looking more sad and desperate than before. “Come back with news soon, y’hear? And, listen, if you can convince her to try and get outta there, that’s all the better.”
“I’ll try. Try not to drink yourself further into the ground before we get back.” Guy grinned and stood up before heading over to the other booth with Arcade and Chico, who only left Carlito’s side reluctantly.
Arcade looked back over at Carlitos on the other side of the canteen, then back at Guy. “I told you the Strip is a terrible place. It just has a shinier veneer than Freeside. Are, uh…are you crying?”
“A little.” Guy wiped his eyes again.
“...Seriously?”
“He loves that girl so much, Arcade. It’s hard to find that kind of love anywhere, let alone somewhere like the Strip.”
“...Wow, okay.”
Guy chuckled and sat up once his eyes had stopped tearing up. “Oh, stop it. Don’t judge me.”
“Not judging you. Just haven’t seen you cry before.”
“Well, you should get used to it now.”
“...Okay. So, I assume we’re going to the Gomorrah?”
“Of course. Me and Carlitos have a deal.”
Arcade sighed heavily. ““Delightful. I love watching strippers pretend to be attracted to me.”
Guy slapped Arcade’s wrist. “Stop putting yourself down. It’s depressing me.”
“That’s what I do.”
“Well, you need to change what you do.” Guy took a bite of the sandwich Arcade had bought him.
Arcade tossed the raw steak he’d bought to Chico, who enthusiastically wolfed it down.
“Chico liked him.”
“He’s not the most friendly dog, but he knows when someone’s feeling down.”
“How long have you had him?”
“Ever since he was a puppy. I was the one who trained him, actually.”
“So, he was a military dog?” Arcade took a bite of his sandwich.
“Mmhm. Military dogs are very difficult to detach from their owners, however, so I just took him with me when I left. He’s a good boy.”
“He is.” Arcade scratched Chico’s head while he ate.
Chico finished his steak and lifted his head to try and lick Arcade’s face. Arcade recoiled just before he could.
“Oookay, I like you, but I think that’s far enough. Sorry, boy.” Arcade sat up and shuffled in his seat to get his lab coat off after he finished his sandwich.
“What’re you doing?”
“I don’t really want the Followers to be associated with anyone going into the Gomorrah. I’m not on business, anyway.”

The Gomorrah looked the same as when Guy last saw it - with a tall, brightly lit gambing hall, and the dimmer theater, the darkness accentuated by the black and red highlights. Guy headed up to the bar, still cautious of whether or not Neil was still hanging about, and hailed down the bartender, a rather tired-looking ghoul woman.
“What’ll you be having?”
“I actually wanted to ask about a, er, recommendation. Where could I find a woman by the name of Joana?”
“Oh, Joana. She’s popular. Not sure if she’ll be available right now, but, hey, it’s early enough. You’ll know her when you see her, brown hair, petite. Like I said, popular. Out in the courtyard.” She pointed at the set of doors at the other end of the theater.
“Ah. Thank you.” Guy nodded and headed over to the end of the courtyard. Arcade followed him closely, already looking uncomfortable.
The doors opened up into the small courtyard, with stairs on either side leading up to the rooms, and the yard in the middle mainly populated by prostitutes soliciting what little clientele were out that time of day and tents. When Guy looked about, it didn’t take him long to spot the woman he assumed was Joana. She was dressed much like the other workers, with her hair put up in a messy ponytail and a face full of make-up. She smiled upon seeing Guy approach her, and though it was convincing, Guy could just see how forced it was.
“Well, what do we have here, huh? Let me guess. You've heard about the mistress who makes all your fantasies come true.”
“And that’s Joana? You?”
“That’s right, gorgeous.”
Guy took a step closer and lowered his voice. “We’re actually here to talk about a mutual friend. Does Carlitos sound familiar?”
Her face lit up immediately, and she dropped her sultry voice. “What? Have you seen him? Have you talked to him?”
“I have, and he wanted you to know that he misses you very much. And he wanted me to try and help you.”
Joana’s face fell, and she looked around the courtyard before turning back to Guy. “I... look, we can't talk here. If you think you can help me, follow me to my room, please.”
She turned and quickly headed for the stairs, Guy and Arcade in tow. When they reached her door, she stopped to look around once more before unlocking the door and stepping inside.
“Chico, stay.” Guy stopped Chico before he walked in. He whined, but did as he was told, and stayed when Guy closed the door behind them.
Joana turned on the lights in her room and turned to them, looking more worried even than when they were outside. “So…who are you, and how exactly did Carlitos want you to help me?”
“Guy de Devaul. This is Arcade Gannon, he’s a Follower of the Apocalypse.”
Arcade held up his hand awkwardly. “Hey.”
Joana cracked a bit of smile, though Guy didn’t really know if her amusement was at Arcade’s expense or not. “Hi?”
Either way, her loosening up a bit was good news. “Anyway, to get to the point…Carlitos wants to try and get you out of here.”
“He...does?” She paused, shaking a bit as she put her hands together and looked at the ground. “Wait, this changes everything. I can't leave my girls here...and, where would we go even if we escape?” She shook her head, still looking at the ground. “No. It's too risky, we'll all end up dead.”
Guy paused, then took a step forward and placed a hand on her shoulder. “Joana. Look at me.”
She looked up shakily.
“It’s going to be okay. I’ll keep you and Carlitos safe. I promise.”
She looked back down, then chuckled bitterly. “Heh. You sound so sure.” She nodded, looking back up. “Damn it all, you better not make me regret this later. But the Omertas will want us dead. What are we going to do about that?”
“You’ll never have to deal with them again. Trust me.”
“To be free and with Carlitos again…” She blinked back tears. “Tell him that I still, I -” She stopped herself. “Never mind. Let Carlitos know that we'll be ready when you are.”
“Okay. I’ll see you soon, then.”
She smiled a bit. “Thank you. I hope I do.”
“Okay, so, I’m very curious, how do you plan on dealing with the Omertas?” Arcade spoke quietly to Guy as they headed back down to the courtyard.
“I...I don’t know yet.”
“You told her you had a plan when you didn’t?”
“I never said I had a plan.”
“You certainly implied that you did.”
“I told her that I would keep her safe, and that is what I’m going to do.”
“Guy?”
Guy and Arcade stopped as someone spoke to them from one of the tables in the theater. Andrew was sitting at the table with a sarsaparilla, and Alice was sitting next to him, staring at them with her usual , unnervingly intelligent look.
“I can’t say I expected to see you here. And you, especially.” He turned to Arcade.
“Well, I’m just…following him around, I suppose.”
Andrew raised a brow and looked at Guy.
“I heard the cards here are pretty favorable.” Guy smiled politely.
“I don’t believe there are cards in the courtyard.” Andrew interrupted him when he opened his mouth. “Nevermind. I won’t press.”
“It’s not-”
“I know, you look too stressed out. Why is that?”
“...I’m afraid I can’t tell you, Andrew.”
“Are you sure?”
“Perfectly.”
“I can help you, you know. If you ask. I certainly won’t press you.”
Guy paused, then shook his head, wondering why he even considered accepting the offer. “Sorry, and thank you, but I must decline the offer.”
“...Suit yourself, then.” Andrew stood up. “My time in the Strip is over for now. I have business to attend to. Goodbye. Good luck in…whatever it is you’re doing here.”
Arcade watched him leave. “...I’m not sure I like him.”
“He is oddly persuasive.”
Arcade shrugged. “I guess. I think he mostly realized you’re attracted to him.”
Guy chuckled as they continued on their way out. “I’m not that much of a romantic, Arcade.”
“Never said that, I’m just…pointing it out. Because he didn’t sound nearly as persuasive to me.” Arcade furrowed his brow. “Do you think he works for the Omertas?”
“He didn’t say so. Just that they wanted to make sure I wasn’t a troublemaker.”
“Could be lying.”
“I don’t think he is.”
“Well, why is he here, talking to you again about the Gomorrah? If he isn’t, why was he so interested in Neil?”
“I suppose we should just assume he works with the Omertas, then.” Guy shrugged. “I don’t really have answers for you, if not that.”
“...Right. It’s probably just that.” Arcade sounded like he had something else on his mind, but didn’t elaborate.

“Hey, it's you! What's the news?” Carlitos sat up in his booth at the canteen upon seeing Guy and Arcade approach.
“It’s good news. Joana wanted you to know that she loves you, and that she wants to try and get out of the Gomorrah.”
“She…she is? She does?” Carlitos’s breath caught before he took another. “Okay, listen, no time to waste. Help her get to Freeside, that's our ticket out of this fucking city. I'll meet you there between midnight and dawn, though we could use some backup. We only got one chance to get this right, you hear?” He leaned forward on the table. “These guys in Freeside, good shots, right? They owe me big time. Tell'em that Carlitos' back to collect his chips, they'll know what do.“
“Right. Where would we find them, exactly?”
““Probably hanging around the Wrangler. Call themselves Big Beard and Little Beard.”
“Big and Little what?”
“Don’t ask.”
“Those guys? I’ve heard of them. I have also heard they were, quote, ‘weird’,” Arcade added.
“Yeah, well, they know their way with a gun, and they definitely know how to protect us if worst comes to worst.”
“...Okay, well, I’ll see them about this, then. How should we get her out?”
“She'll have to go disguised. Gomorrah's packed around midnight and the bouncers won't notice just another patron leaving the joint. Youse two already look the part.”
“Alright. Good idea. And where exactly are we meeting you in Freeside?”
“I'll be near the entrance but I need to keep out of sight. The Omertas have contacts, and they're still looking for me. I’ll probably wait around the street nearest the entrance, off the main one.”
Guy took a deep breath. “Okay. I’ll let her know the plan, and hopefully, we’ll meet you in Freeside at midnight. I’ll try to let you know if there’s a hitch in the plan.”
“See ya then.”

The Atomic Wrangler looked better than most mid-rate bars in cities like Freeside, but still not as cleaned up as the casinos in the Strip, though that wasn’t much to Guy’s surprise. The bar lay to the right of the entrance, and to the left, a large stage, empty at the time he and Arcade visited. Near the stage, two men were loitering, each with a cigarette and a beer, chatting idly and quietly - one, an older black man with a shaved head and a large, bushy black beard, and the other, a middle-aged white man with a scraggly, patchy beard and a thin mustache. Guy assumed these were the men they were looking for. The man with the larger beard noticed Guy and Arcade approaching and turned to them, speaking before they could.
“Let me guess. You want to know my secret - how I got my beard to grow in so thick.”
Guy looked between him and the other man, somewhat baffled by the question. “Um...I shave.”
Big Beard wrinkled his nose in a look of disapproval. “You shave?”
“When I can. But that’s not quite what I’ve come to ask about.”
Big Beard said something in a hushed voice to Little Beard, then looked back at Guy. “Hmph. What is it?”
“Carlitos says he’s ready to cash in his chips.”
“I see. Well, he can count on Little Beard and me for an assist. Tell us where and when, and we'll be there.”
“Near the gate to Strip, where he’ll be meeting you around midnight. Get there early.”
“The Beards will be there.” Big Beard replied in a steely voice. Little Beard nodded in quiet affirmation.
“...Uh-huh.” Arcade leaned towards Guy and whispered, “Let’s just go.”

Thankfully, none of the Omertas that took their weapons at the door were too suspicious of why they kept coming back, or, at least, they didn’t look it. When they didn’t see Joana in the courtyard, Guy apprehensively checked her room, knocking on the door after he waited to hear if anyone was busy inside. After a moment, Joana unlocked the door and opened it. She smiled upon seeing them and opened the door to let them in.
“So? What did he say?” She questioned excitedly.
“Carlitos has a plan. We’ll sneak you and your friends out of the Gomorrah in disguise, and meet Carlitos in Freeside.”
She took a deep breath and nodded firmly. “Okay, I got clothes I can use for that. I’ll get the other girls ready, and we’ll meet you in the theater at midnight. I’ll be in a pink dress, a coat, sunglasses, and a fedora.”
“...Joana?” Guy was surprised to hear Arcade speak.
Joana looked equally surprised. “Yes, hun?”
“You don’t seem well.”
“What do you mean?” Joana smiled anxiously.
“Your pupils are contracted, and you’ve been having involuntary spasms every time we’ve spoken. You’re good at hiding it, but Med-X is a particularly deadly addiction.”
Joana pursed her lips and looked at the floor.
“Arcade-” Guy started to chide him curtly.
“No, h-he’s right. I...I didn't think it showed.” She chuckled nervously. “I guess it's worse than I thought. I just…don’t know what I would do about it. I don’t want to worry Carlitos, he doesn’t know…”
“I know you two probably just want to get out of here as fast as possible, but you’re not going to make it very far if you’re crippled by the Med-X. If you stop by the old Fort in Freeside and tell Julie Farkas what’s happened, she and everyone else there would be more than happy to help you recover, and hide you from the Omertas until you’re better.”
Joana paused, then smiled hopefully. “Are you sure? I wouldn’t want to cause trouble for all of you…”
“That’s why we’re here. And make sure to let Carlitos know about this when you meet him. I think we both know he cares enough about you that he’ll stay to help you recover.”
“Heh, well, I know that much.” She nodded again. “I’ll do that. Thank you both so much.”
“Of course. We’ll be waiting in the theater at midnight. Just walk up to me and Arcade at the bar, and we’ll pose as your plus ones.”
“We’ll be ready.”

They spent most of the rest of the day anxiously waiting for midnight in the Tops. Finally, when it was only 30 minutes to midnight, they headed to the bar in the Gomorrah and waited.
“...Do you think they’re okay?” Arcade whispered as Guy looked at his watch.
“It’s only been a couple minutes. It’d be more dangerous if we interfered without need.” Guy replied quietly, placing his hand back on the counter and taking a sip of the whiskey he’d ordered. He hardly needed to lower his voice too much, considering how loud the music and the din in the theater was.
“Yeah, you’re right. Just…concerned.” Arcade sighed. “It’s probably more suspicious if I don’t order anything, huh?”
“Probably, but no one’s noticed anything just yet, right?”
“I suppose so.” Arcade turned his head to the other end of the theater as the doors to the courtyard opened. “I think that’s them.”
Joana was dressed in the outfit she had told Guy about, with her hair in a much tidier bun and her make-up washed off. She had two similarly-dressed women with her as well, who looked more nervous than even Joana did. Guy stood up and walked over, holding out his arm. Joana smiled and took it.
“You’re back. These your friends, sweetheart?”
“That’s right.” She looked nervously between him and the other girls.
Quickly following Joana’s lead, one of the other girls grabbed Arcade’s arm. He flinched a bit at how tightly she grabbed him.
“Uh. Hi.”
“Hi!” The other woman choked out.
“Right, and this is Lola.” Joana gestured to the third woman, who simply smiled politely. “She’s going to be…joining us.”
“What fun. If you’re done here, I think we’ll take our leave.’
Guy led the way out of the Gomorrah, followed by Joana’s friends, Arcade, and Chico, who looked rather wary of the new company. They stepped into the lobby before Guy was stopped by an Omerta.
“Hey.”
Guy stopped and turned to him, feeling Joana grip his arm tighter, but keeping his composure. “Yes?”
“You need your guns back.”
“Oh, yes, of course! Thank you for reminding me, sir.”
“Yeah, whatever. Heyyo, Sinatra and Poindexter need their guns back!” He barked at the Omerta behind the front counter, along with the receptionist.
“Yeah, yeah.” The other Omerta grabbed the firearms from a compartment under the front desk and handed them over.
“Thank you again, gentlemen.”
“Uh-huh. Come back to the Gomorrah for a good time, y’hear?”
“I will make sure of that.” Guy nodded politely and continued out of the Gomorrah.
Once they were out of the Gomorrah, the pressure was almost completely relieved as they headed to the gate to Freeside, and once within Freeside, Joana and her friends seemed to relax completely.
“I can’t believe they didn’t catch us!” The girl with Arcade whispered excitedly.
“Thank god they didn’t.” Arcade sighed in relief.
“It’s not quite over yet. Let’s find Carlitos.”
They headed over to the street to the right, dimly lit only by the flickering, barely-maintained streetlamps. Guy kept a hand on his pistol, just in case, and almost drew it when he saw someone emerge from behind an old bus stop, relaxing when he saw it was only Carlitos and the Beards. Carlitos beamed, prompting a similar reaction from Joana.
“Joana!” He ran ahead and embraced Joana when they met on the street.
“Carlitos! I missed you so much-I-I thought you were dead!” Joana hugged him tight, her voice breaking as she spoke.
“It’s okay, baby, it’s all gonna be okay, now.” Carlitos looked up as Joana’s friends, Guy, and Arcade approached, and let go of Joana for a moment to turn to Guy. “You made it! Thank you so much for your help. I owe you more than-” He stopped himself, looking past Guy at the main road. “Wait, what’s goin’ on?”
Guy turned and felt his stomach drop when he saw a group of Omertas enter the street from the main road, all of them armed, and all of them with their weapons drawn except their apparent leader.
“Well, well, well, if it isn’t our whore, Joana...and, I don’t believe this, Carlitos!” The Omerta leading them clapped his hands together, looking at Carlitos with mild surprise before turning back to Guy. “We had you and the whore clocked from the start, but we thought Carlitos would be long gone by now. He should’ve fled with the caps he stole from the family. We Omertas don’t forget and now it’s time to pay for your offenses.”
Carlitos quickly stepped in front of Joana, and Arcade and the Beards drew their weapons as the Omertas aimed their own. Guy was quick to interject.
“Your boss will hear about how you spoiled the mission.”
The Omerta scoffed. “What mission? What are you talking about?”
“Carlitos is trading what he stole for Joana and the other girls. I was hired to see to it that he does.”
The Omerta blinked, a bit taken aback. “All the dough!? Cachino once said this traitor flipped with thousands off the record. But, why wasn't I informed?”
“Me and the boss had to keep it a secret. Carlitos would’ve not dealt directly with Omertas.”
“I see, yeah...he knows what we usually do to traitors. But all that profit is well worth sparing his miserable life.” The Omerta paused, then nodded knowingly, gesturing to the other Omertas and prompting them to lower their weapons again. “Okay, carry on. And, we've never been here, you understand? Boss doesn't need to know about this.”
“Understood.”
The leader of the Omertas turned to the others and waved his hand dismissively. They turned and followed him, though some lingered on Guy for a moment longer before complying and heading back to the Strip gate with their leader. Carlitos looked after them, only relaxing once he saw they were gone, before turning to Guy, baffled.
“Goddamn, I don't know how you pulled that off! For a minute there I thought we weren't going to make it. Without you, we’d be full of lead.” He sighed in relief, paused, and quickly continued. “Thank you so much for your help.”
“Thank you both! Really!” One of the girls beamed, and the other echoed her sentiments with a small, scared smile and a nod.
Joana looked between them before approaching Guy as well. “I have nothing to give you except my thanks...and, well, if I were you I'd not mess around with the Omertas anymore, but I think I have some info you’d be interested in.” She paused, looking back at Carlitos, who nodded before she turned to Guy again. “Cachino has said things that make me think there's a big and nasty operation in the works, something about 'getting even' with Mr. House. Just thought you’d like to know.”
“Interesting. Thank you, Joana, but your thanks is more than enough reward.” Guy nodded politely.
“Okay, now, Carlitos, uhm, our friend here said that we can stay in the Fort with the Followers until…well, I’ll tell you on the way, okay?” She turned to her friends and hugged them, as well. “I’m sure they’d be happy to have you too, Jane, Molly.”
The more nervous girl turned to Arcade, who simply nodded. “If you say so, Jo.”
“Anything you want is fine by me, baby. We’re gonna be good, as long as we’re together, right?” Carlitos took Joana’s hand and kissed her again.
“I know, sweetheart.”
They turned to Guy and Arcade once again before heading down the street, presumably to the Fort. The Beards watched them leave before turning to Arcade and Guy. As usual, Big Beard spoke.
“The Beards’ work here is done.” They nodded curtly and headed to the main road, Big Beard stopping and patting Guy on the shoulder as he left. “You did good.”
“Thanks?”
Big Beard nodded again and followed Little Beard out.
“...That…went much better than I thought it would.” Arcade turned to Guy. “We should probably avoid the Gomorrah from now on, though.”
“I don’t think I could stomach going back after seeing all that.” Guy stopped before continuing out on the main road as they were intercepted by a small group of The Kings. One of them looked between Guy and Arcade, nodding approvingly.
“Damn. That was some smooth-talking even The King’d be proud of.” He turned to Arcade. “Those Omertas are some cocky pricks, thinkin’ they can just waltz in on our turf. You okay?”
Arcade looked a bit taken aback by the question. “Uh, yeah. Just keep an eye on those people we were helping. Julie should keep them safe, but just make sure the Omertas don’t try and mess with them again.”
“Don’t worry. We’re gonna be keepin’ a closer eye on the gate.” The speaking King nodded curtly to Guy, then headed down the main road, towards the King’s School of Impersonation, with his companions.
“...What was that about?”
“Like I said, the Kings are misguided at times, but they try to keep an eye out for the Followers. I’m just…surprised any of them recognized me without the patch.”
“I guess you’re more famous than you thought.” Guy pat Arcade on the shoulder as they headed back to Vault 21. “What do you think about what Joana said about Cachino?”

“Sounds big. Too big. I don’t even wanna think about it right now, honestly.”
“Heheh. Same here.” Guy yawned. “Let’s get to bed.”

Chapter Text

The Ranger Station Luci and the others passed by was quiet, the windows inside the main station lighting the road in front of it past the chain-link fence surrounding it. The twilight brought darkness, cool air, and the din of the creatures in the Mojave. Luci always liked that time of night.
“Hey, Charon, d’ya got any more cigarettes?”
“I was telling him, that stuff isn’t good for you!” Jake interjected irritably.
“I know that. Don’t mean I’m not gonna do it. So?”
Charon sighed and grabbed a cigarette from the pouch on his belt, handing it over to Luci.
“Heheh. Thanks. You got a light?”
He tossed her a lighter, which she used to light the cigarette before handing it back. She took a drag and exhaled, watching the smoke rise into the darkening sky.
Jake shrugged. “Whatever, I guess.”
“Whatever, indeed, kid.” Luci chortled.
As they continued down the road, which weaved through the rock formations and hills of the desert, Luci squinted, seeing houses in the distances, and…
“Is that a giant lizard?”
Jake jogged to catch up with her and peered ahead, just making out the dark silhouette of some sort of giant structure past the houses. “That…is a giant dinosaur statue?”
“Exactly. A giant lizard.”
“Dinosaurs aren’t reptiles.”
“Well, I ain’t never said reptile, did I?” Luci grinned.
Jake snorted humorously. “Pfft. I guess not.”
Charon looked incredulous at the sight of the giant dinosaur, but said nothing, as per usual.
Novac was made up of a collection of small townhouses, a gas station, a large tent that seemed to house a makeshift food bank, and a fenced-in motel, the lot of which contained the base of the giant dinosaur. The name of the town seemed to come from the flickering, but still partially working “No Vacancy” sign outside the motel. As they approached the sign, Luci heard a curious, but familiar mechanical idling sound. She stepped past it to see Victor, standing(?) behind the sign. He turned to her and held up one of his giant, clumsy metal claws.
“Well butter my butt and call me a biscuit, if it ain't my old friend from Goodsprings!”
Luci blinked, half in disbelief that she was seeing him again. “Hey, Vic. What’re you doin’ in Novac?”
Victor paused. “Don't rightly know - I just got the notion to make my way to New Vegas. Reckon I'll find out when I get there.”
“...Alright. Nice to see a friendly face ‘round here, I suppose.”
“Likewise, friend - likewise. Is there anything old Vic can do you for?”
“Woah, what kinda robot is that?” Jake questioned upon following Luci behind the sign.
“This here’s Victor. He dug me up in Goodsprings when them asshole that shot me tried to put me in a grave.”
“Howdy, pardner!” Victor raised his claw again in what appeared to be a casual greeting.
“Uh, hi.” Jake awkwardly waved in reply. “I’m Jake.”
“Might I say, it is a right pleasure to meet you, Jake.”
“You too, Victor. So…uh, what model are you?”
“A Securitron, RobCo security model 2060-B, pardner.”
“RobCo, huh? I’ve seen a lot of RobCo models, but none like you.”
“Y’see, pard, Securitrons were created by both RobCo and H&H Tools, of House Industries.”
“House Industries? Of Mr. House fame?”
“Y’heard of him?” Luci turned to Jake.
“I feel like everyone around here’s heard of Mr. House. So I guess your production was limited to his headquarters on the west coast. Hell, he might’ve limited production around Vegas specifically.”
“Huh. Interestin’.” Luci turned back to Victor. “Well, Vic, what’s the story with this place?”
“Novac? Nice enough place I suppose...but between you and me - when I rolled into town my skin started to itch. Watch yourself.”
Luci was about to inform Vic that he didn’t have skin, but she had a feeling he wouldn’t really register that.
“Well, d’ya know where I can find somewhere to buy some supplies, a place to sleep?”
“Well, this ain't New Vegas, but I reckon you can find what you need here. Try the office out front.”
Jake shrugged. “That’s our best bet, I suppose.”
“Sure. Thanks again, Vic.”
“Hey, don’t mention it, friend!”
They headed past the sign and towards the chain-link gate leading into the motel lot, next to which lay the door leading into the office for the motel. Luci tried the door to find it was locked.
“Huh.”
“You won’t have much luck with the door.”
Luci heard an accented man call to them from the lot, past the open gate. He was a skinny, dark-skinned man, with a gaunt face, a shaved head, a black goatee, and half-moon glasses perched atop his nose. Next to him was a shorter, but stronger-looking man with a square, stern face, a red beret, and shades hung on the front of his plain shirt. They were both leaning against the wall, smoking idly, joined by a curious-looking, floating, circular little robot with spines sticking out of it.
“Why not?”
“The old dingbat that used to run the place died. Wandered too far outside of town at night and got shot up by raiders.”
Luci squinted at the robot. “Say, I think I’ve heard of you.”
The man stood up, looking bemused by her comment. “You have…?”
“Yeah. Guy with a flyin’ robot headed south, did you find ‘em at Primm?”
“I certainly did!” The man grinned and looked at the other man with him. “Did you hear that, Boone? I’m famous.”
“I’m not sure I’d say that.”
“Well, the NCR guy at Primm wanted me to ask if you stole it.”
“Oh, please. It was broken when I found it, and I doubt any old hick in that place would’ve known how to fix it.” The man took a drag of his cigarette.
“Who are ya, anyhow?”
“Roberto Gonzalez. This is Boone, and this is my precious little man, ED-E.” He pat the robot affectionately as it beeped.
“Where the hell did they find an eyebot over there?” Jake questioned skeptically. “I haven’t seen one other than him ever since I left the East Coast.”
Roberto raised a brow. “Oh, a fellow East-coaster. Well, the way I see it, it’s none of your bloody business.”
“I think it is. Those things are manufactured by the fuckin’ Enclave.” Much to Luci’s surprise, Jake actually seemed to lose his temper a bit.
“And it doesn’t matter anymore. The basic programming is there, but it isn’t as if he’s an ‘Enclave spy’ or something.” Roberto stood up. “If you’re gonna keep acting like a bloody cunt, I’m going to take my leave.”
“Woah, hey, let’s calm it, man.” Luci interjected. “No need to call anyone that shit. And Jake, c’mon, it’s just a robot.”
Jake still looked frustrated, but kept quiet.
Roberto crossed his arms indignantly. “Thank you.”
“Alrigh’. Well, I just wanted to ask if you’ve seen a guy in a checkered suit pass through here. He had some Great Khans with him. They stole somethin’ of mine.”
“I only got here two days ago. Boone?”
Boone shrugged. “I didn’t see him. Must have come by during the day. But…”
“But…?”
“Just spit it out, Boone.” Roberto snapped impatiently.
“I won’t if you don’t shut up.” Boone turned back to Luci. “If he was with the Great Khans, the daytime sniper here might know about it.”
“Who’s that?”
“Manny Vargas. He keeps watch in the dinosaur’s mouth, starting from 6 in the morning.”
“...In the dinosaur?”
“Yeah.” Boone pointed at the dinosaur, where, from the lot, they could see a door on its side, with a small set of rickety wooden stairs leading to it.
“Oh! Uh. Okay.” Luci wasn’t really sure what else to say about that. “Well, can anyone else rent us a room ‘till then?”
“Cliff’s running the motel now. Also…from inside the dinosaur.”
Jake glanced curiously at the dinosaur. “There is…a lot of people in that dinosaur.”
“Not really. Only two.” Boone shrugged again.
“Well, now, wait a moment.” Rob interjected. “How do you know he’s just going to tell you where they went?”
Luci raised a brow. “Whaddya mean?”
“I mean, I doubt you’re looking for a gang of Great Khans to get all chummy and have a fuckin’ picnic or something, and I think Manny’s going to pick up on that. If he’s all chummy with them, and he thinks you’re not, why would he tell you where they went?”
“...Alrigh’, I see your point. So?”
“So, I consider myself a very persuasive man. If I can get some compensation, I could probably tell a little white lie, talk it out of him, though.”
“What makes ya think I can’t?”
“With all due respect, sweetheart, I don’t think you could do that convincingly.”
“And shouldn’t I just try, first?”
“Because then he’d be tipped off.” Rob stood up. “What’s your name?”
“Lucía Perez. Everyone calls me Luci.”
“Listen, Luci, I’ll give you a cheap rate. 50 caps, and I’ll get that info for you first thing in the morning.”
“...I’ll give you the caps in the mornin’, when you got the info.”
“It’s a deal.” Rob held out his hand. When Luci shook it, he looked closer at Dante, still perched on her shoulder.
“What the hell is that?”
“His name’s Dante. And he’s a cat.”
“I thought those little buggers were all dead.” Rob took his hand back. “Right. Well, you all can go talk to Cliff. We’ll see you in the morning.”

If Luci had just given him the caps upfront, Rob would’ve just ditched, but unfortunately, she was a little too sharp for that. So, as promised, first in the morning, he headed for the Dinosaur. He wasn’t far outside the door out of the motel room before Boone stopped him, however.
“Hey.”
Rob sighed irritably and turned around. “What?”
“How do you plan on talking to Manny?”
“I don’t know, just talking to him. Getting a feel for what would convince him. Probably just lie.”
Boone sat on the chair next to the TV in the room. “...Fine. Just don’t fuck with him.”
“What’s that supposed to mean?”
“You know what I mean. Don’t be…as much of an asshole to him.”
“...Sure. Whatever. ED-E, wait here.”
Boone looked away as he grabbed a cigarette. ED-E beeped and hovered just inside as Rob closed the door.

The man on the day shift in the dinosaur was a hispanic man with a friendly face and wispy facial hair, wearing a red beret just like Boone’s, though he was far less tense when Rob entered the dinosaur’s mouth.
“Hey, man. You’re new.” He grinned lackadaisically, lowering his rifle.
Manny reminded Rob of someone, and that made him like Manny.
“Roberto Gonzalez. But, Rob is fine.” Rob smiled in turn. “And you are…?”
“I'm Manny. I'm on security detail here.” He nodded at the opening in the dinosaur’s mouth. “You see a rifle barrel sticking out of the dinosaur's mouth, you got a fifty-fifty shot it's me. Otherwise it's Boone.”
“Boone, huh?”
“Boone's a sniper, same as me. Used to spot for him when we were enlisted with the NCR. After we got out, I talked him into settling down here. So, here we are.” Manny's face fell a bit. “I'd introduce you, but uh...we're not so friendly right now. And…he hasn’t turned up since Jeannie…” He stopped completely.
“Ah. I heard about that.” Rob figured he’d keep Manny talking, let him let his guard down a little before he asked any favors. “So…why are you two on bad terms?”
“Me and his wife, we didn't see eye-to-eye on some things. We had some pretty big arguments.” Manny looked at the floor. “One day she turns up missing, and he hasn't said a word to me since.”
“Oh. I’m…I’m sorry.” Rob paused. Now he was going to be a bit nosy. “Why were you arguing with her so much? If she was your friend’s wife, I mean.”
Manny sighed, slinging his rifle over his back as he continued. “Well, see, I grew up in North Vegas. Me and my cousins. We were some bad seeds. Got in with a gang. I loved it.” Manny paused. “Then something happened, and I couldn't handle it anymore. So, I enlisted. Earned my future. Brought down my best friend to share that future with me. And here was this woman who was too good for it, trying to take him away. So yeah. I didn't see eye-to-eye with the bitch.” He seemed to notice himself getting heated, and quickly stopped himself. “Sorry. I shouldn’t say that, to…uh…someone who’s probably not interested.”
“It’s fine. Do you…know anything about the disappearance?”
“Believe me. When I heard the news, my first thought was, I owe somebody. Big. I figured Boone would come around after a while. But he hasn't. And I'm starting to think that if he doesn't find her that things will never go back to the way they were.”
“...That’s, um…” Rob actually found himself feeling bad for Manny. “I’m sorry.”
“Nah, it’s fine.” Manny chuckled nervously. “I shouldn’t…I mean, you don’t wanna hear this.”
“No, really, it’s okay. I can tell you’ve probably been lonely up here, hm? Probably haven’t had your needs met for a long time.” Rob smiled flirtatiously and leaned against the side of the dinosaur’s mouth.
“Yeah, I…” Manny paused again, furrowing his brow. “Everybody depends on you, you know? But they don't ask you about how you feel. What you worry about.” He smiled a bit. “There's something I like about you. You just seem really understanding.”
Rob wasn’t entirely sure Manny actually understood what he was implying, but it seemed to have gotten through. Mostly.
“I completely understand. Recently, I’ve been having to worry about this checker-suited gaff that came through here with some other pals of his.” Rob sighed exaggeratedly. “It’s been a pain trying to find out anything about him, let me tell you. Apparently, he came through here.”
Manny blinked. “Oh, him? What do you want with him?”
“Oh, he has something important. Took it from a friend of mine, so now I have to help them get it back.”
Manny raised a brow skeptically. “You talking about that chip? Man, I don’t think he’s giving it up.”
“Yes, exactly, but my friend is quite persuasive, and if all else fails, everyone likes caps. So, do you have any idea where he went?”
“Sure. His name was Benny, I think. He was traveling with some members from my old gang. Last I heard, they were going to Boulder City.”
“Boulder City?” The only thing Rob knew about that place was that it had been reduced to ruins in the Battle of Hoover Dam. Just like everyone and everything else involved. “Why were they heading that way?”
“No clue. I know Benny hadn't paid up yet. Maybe that was where they were supposed to get square.”
“I see. And how would I get there?”
“It's straight up Route 93 from here. Just keep following the road north.” Manny paused. “You…aren’t gonna leave now, are you?”
Rob paused. He had been planning to leave after he had gotten the info, but Manny’s voice was too familiar to ignore.
“...Oh, no, of course not, mate. We’ve hardly talked.”
“Heh, right, that’s why I was thinking. And…” Manny paused. “...I know you got no reason to help me now, but you seem really nice. Could I at least tell you about the problem we've got here?”
Rob really didn’t like doing anything without compensation.
“Of course. If it puts your mind at ease.”
Manny beamed. “See? I was right about you.”
His assertion did make Rob feel much better. “Heh, well…go on.’
Manny sighed, his smile fading a bit. “Novac, it's home for me now. I want that to be for good. I like it here, and I've left too many homes behind. But the only resource we got here is junk. Without that, people wouldn't have anything to trade. They'd all have to leave. We get most of it up the road from the old rocket test site.” He nodded at the door, but presumably more to imply the direction of the test site. “But a bunch of ghouls showed up one day and took it over. We can't get in there now. I would go myself, but between the Legion taking Nelson recently, and…what happened with Jeannie, and Boone being gone, I gotta be here to protect Novac.”
“I see. So you want me to get rid of the ghouls?”
“Pretty much, man.” Manny shrugged. “Doesn't matter to me what you do. As long as the ghouls are out of there, that's good enough for me.”
“I understand.” Rob really didn’t want to clear a bunch of feral ghouls out of an abandoned building for little to no pay. “I’ll see what I can do about it.”
Manny pat Rob on the shoulder. “Thanks, man. It'd mean a lot to me.”
Rob did, however, really want to help Manny. “Of course, mate, it’s no skin off my nose. I’ll get started now.”
“Good luck, and, listen, man, this is important, but not important enough for someone like you to die over. Back out if it gets too dangerous, okay?”
"Of course. I’ll keep it in mind, mate.” Rob pulled himself away and headed back through the door.

He found that Luci and her little friends were waiting out in the courtyard, chattering amongst themselves. He still couldn’t quite get over how odd that little “cat” creature was.
“Hey, it’s the man of the hour.” Luci grinned upon seeing Rob and stood up, seeing him approaching. “Didja find anything out?”
“Sure. That man you’re looking for is named Benny. And I can tell you where he went, once you hand over the caps.”
“No problem, man.” Luci placed a pouch of caps in his hand. “So?”
“Thank you very much.” Rob pocketed the caps. “He was heading to Boulder City.”
“And where’s that?”
“Northeast of here. Follow the highway in front of the dinosaur north, and you’ll find it.”
“Hey, thanks, man. You were good on it. I respect that.”
“It’s not as if there’s any benefit to not telling you. Frankly, I don’t care what you decide to do with him one way or another.”
“Good to hear.” Luci turned to the man, or, the human man, with her. “Hey, Jake! We got a lead!”
“Hell yeah!” Jake held up his hands triumphantly.
The gray dog next to him barked happily.
“Great, well, glad to hear you’re so happy with it. Anyway.” Rob headed past them and to his motel room as they prepared to leave.
Boone was still waiting inside with ED-E. Rob almost though he was asleep, until he lifted his head.
“You’re done?”
“Yep. ED-E, come on, you’re coming with pa again.” Rob pat ED-E’s side, prompting a couple of beeps from him.
“Are we leaving, then?”
“Novac? Technically.”
“...What do you mean, ‘technically?’”
“We’re going to check out that rocket test site west of here. Manny said it’s overrun by ghouls, so we need to take care of them.”
“What? Why?”
“You know, I would’ve thought you would care.”
“Sure. But I don’t want to stay here any longer than I have to.”
“And as far as I’m concerned, we have to. So we’re going to that test site.”
When they left the motel room, Luci and her pals had already left. Rob and Boone headed downstairs and towards the western road through town, curving to the southwest as it led through a pass in the smaller hills surrounding Black Mountain just to the north. Just before the pass, they spotted the body of a glowing ghoul, which caused the geiger counter on Rob’s Pip-Boy to start clicking as it went up.
“Oh, Jesus.” Rob stepped around it and continued up the road. “Great fuckin’ sign.”
“This was your idea.” Boone grunted.
“...You know, Manny was actually quite sweet when I talked to him. Fit, too.”
“...What?”
“Nevermind. He was nice, but you really don’t seem to like him.”
“He was glad when she was gone, and he knew I loved her. So now we don’t talk. Happy?”
“Well maybe it’s because-”
“I don’t want to talk about it.”
Rob frowned and punched Boone in the shoulder, “Ow, bugger me, that hurt.”
“Don’t do that.”
Rob shook out his hand. “Shut up, Boone.”
“Say that again, and I’m going to do the same thing, a lot harder.”
“Oh, you’re so bloody scary.” Rob mumbled irritably.
As they continued into the pass, they encountered a feral ghoul that was taken care of fairly quickly by ED-E, but Rob knew it was but a warning of what was to come. He drew his plasma rifle, and Boone readied his scoped rifle.
As they encountered an overpass, they also encountered more ghouls. They were fairly quickly shot down by ED-E and Boone, but they still scared the hell out of Rob.
It appeared, from all the sandbag barriers on the road and the scrap-metal barriers built around the pass, that someone had been fairly intent on preventing anyone from getting in.
As they continued through the car-clogged road, Rob’s suspicions were further confirmed by a small, make-shift living area, presumably where someone used to keep watch on the road. That someone was likely the dead ghoul in oddly monk-like robes laying dead near a table, clutching a laser rifle. Just outside the barrier lay a dead nightkin, one of those odd, purple super mutants, with dozens of holes burned through him.
When they headed up a ramp leading to the area above the overpass, presumably another lookout area, where another similarly dressed ghoul and another nightkin lay dead. Thankfully for Rob, they found plenty of supplies around the camps, including some Buffout and Mentats, which reminded Rob to take a moment and sit at the table on the higher lookout. He could feel his hands starting to tremble.
“What are you doing?” Boone questioned curtly. “I thought we were going to the test site.”
“Yes, just a moment.” Rob fished his mentats tin out of his bag and dumped the ones he had found inside, before popping a couple in his mouth and sighing in relief. “Ah. There we go.” He noticed Boone staring at him. “I…am an avid chem user.”
““Isn’t that impractical for someone that travels a lot?”
“You mean performance enhancing. It keeps you sharp when you haven’t slept a whole lot. Which happens often for me.”
“...Hmph. Well, you can do what you want. As long as it doesn’t get anyone else killed.”
“Yes, because these chewable bloody pills have a secondary effect. Fuck off.”
“That’s not what I meant and you know it.” Boone turned away and headed back down from the lookout point. “Let’s go get this over with.”

The Rocket Test Site, judging from the sign after the pass opened up, belonged to REPCONN, a pre-war rocket company Rob was fairly familiar with. The road leading to the site opened into a large cul de sac, with a once-grand statue of a rocket in the middle, with the closed, giant dome marking the launch site past it to the west, and the large, multi-story building operating it to the north. The actual cul de sac was infested with feral ghouls, mostly just standing there, idling mindlessly. The sight of them actually made Rob pity them somewhat. Before he could really think about it , Boone stared sniping them from where they were, up on the road, whipping the others into a frenzy. He didn’t seem to care much, as his aim wasn’t much worse when they started moving. ED-E cleared out the one Boone left before they could even come into range of Rob’s plasma rifle. Rob lowered it and turned to Boone.
““Remind me why you didn’t just deal with this yourself?”
“I had my night shift.”
“Who’ll take over now that you’re gone?”
“...I don’t know. Plenty of people come by town. Ranger Andy’s a good judge of character. He can tell if someone’s responsible enough to take over. He might be able to cover a few nights.”
“Ranger Andy?”
“Well, used to be. Too wounded to serve, now. But he’s a good shot. You...probably didn’t see him. He usually stays in his cabin.” Boone shook his head dismissively. “Anyway.”
“Right.” Rob approached the stairs leading up to the platform ahead of the front doors. “Unfortunately, my rifle is better with short-range. I’ll go up, you cover me.”
“Got it.”
“ED-E, stick close.”
ED-E beeped affirmatively and followed Rob closely as he headed up the stairs. Just as he rounded the top, he heard the familiar snarls of the ghouls just ahead of the front door as they noticed him. Rob took out ghoul, the plasma round melting through its chest, and ED-E quickly took care of the other.
“Who’s my baby boy?” He cooed, patting ED-E as he floated back to him, “Oh, you’re such a good boy.”
“...That’s a robot.”
“ED-E IS MORE THAN A ROBOT,” Rob snapped, “I fixed him, he’s my baby. So leave it.”
“I’m just saying that it’s very...worrying.”
“Who are you to worry about me?”
Boone frowned. “Fine. Are we going in, or are you going to stay out here and talk to robots?”
“One, there’s only one robot here. Someone without a brain does not, in fact, count as a robot. Two, since you do not have the threat of your brain becoming damaged and instantly killing you lingering over you, I say you go first.” Rob stepped to the side and gestured to the door.
Boone scowled even further. “Do not talk to me like that.”
“Oh, I’m so sorry. Please don’t shoot me. I’m so scared,” Rob replied dryly, before noticing that Boone wasn’t moving. “Fine. I’ll stop. So…?”
Boone sighed and headed past Rob. He put his shoulder against the door and gripped the doorknob. “I’m opening it on three. Rush in on three, shoot if I shoot.”
“Right, right, I got it,” Rob stood behind Boone and aimed at the door.
“One...two...three.” Boone burst through the door and scanned the room, Rob tailing him.
While there didn’t appear to be any ghouls in the main lobby, they heard the far-off screaming and snarling indicating the presence of feral ghouls somewhere not far off in the building. As they stepped forward, clutching their weapons cautiously, they jumped upon hearing the intercom next the front desk buzz to life. After a moment the voice of a sane ghoul crackled to life.
“Hey! Over here! Are you listening?” The microphone blared, “Go to the big room on the east side of this building and take the metal staircase up. And hurry.”
“Gah, turn down the bloody microphone!” Rob snapped after pressing the button on the intercom, “Who are you?”
“Who I am doesn’t matter, smoothskin. Stop wasting time and get up here.”
“Fine. Dickhead,” Rob muttered, “I’ll be there. Just don’t think I’ll be happy about it.”
“Great.” The voice didn’t exactly sound overjoyed.
Rob looked around and heard more groaning echoing from other parts of the building.
“Hm. Looks like there’s sane ghouls here,” Rob turned to Boone, “Did you know about this?”
“No. Me and Manny have just seen Feral Ghouls coming up the road.”
“Well.” Rob grabbed a cigarette and lit it as he looked about the room. “Let’s see what the hell they want.”

Rob tossed his cigarette to the ground, put it out with his boot, and peeked into the hallway that led down to a blood-stained metal door.
“That doesn’t look welcoming.”
“No one else we’ve seen has been.” Boone at the doorway to the left of the hall leading to the ominous door. “I think there’s a metal walkway over there. And…”
They stepped through the doorway to find themselves in a tall, large room, filled with metal walkways and an array of stairs leading up to a large metal platform near the roof. The room was dark, with no windows and only a few dim lights left to light it, but even then, Rob could make out the bodies of Nightkin, ghouls, and some…nondescript pieces of gore on the ground, along with a pile of ash that was once presumably also a Nightkin.
“Ugh. Fucking disgusting.” He mumbled, stepping around the blood on the ground.
“Not sure what you were expecting.” Boone followed Rob, not caring enough to step over the blood, up the metal stairs to the platform, where a metal door lay, with another intercom on the wall next to it. Rob tried the door, found it was locked, and pressed the button on the intercom.
“Hey, open up. I’m here.”
“Alright, alright, I’m opening the door. Don’t try anything, smoothskin.”
“Sure, fine.”
The door opened up to reveal a bald man with a mustache, a dress shirt, a tie, and a lab coat.
“What the hell? You’re not a bloody ghoul.”
The man scoffed, continuing to speak in an exaggeratedly gravelly voice. “Your pranks won't work on me, smoothskin. They won't work on Jason, either.”
Rob snorted in disbelief. “Smoothskin? Your skin looks pretty smooth to me.”
“Stop wasting my time, smoothskin. Go waste Jason's.”
“And who exactly is Jason?”
“Jason is the prophet. The only reason you're up here is because he wants to talk to you. I guess he had visions that a smoothskin would stop by.”
“Visions.”
“Yeah.”
“Sure he did.”
The man sighed irritably. “I told you already, go talk to Jason.”
He stepped aside, begrudgingly allowing Rob, Boone, and ED-E through. They appeared to be in a relatively clean, well-lit, if cramped laboratory, mostly made up of cramped halls and more open rooms for the lab equipment. It also appeared that the sane ghouls, attending to their business in their strange, sack-cloth robes, had moved some beds into the lab as well. They all stared suspiciously at Rob and Boone as they passed by, looking for whoever Jason was.
Jason made himself very apparent, from his change in clothes to a torn, ragged suit, to his partially glowing frame, and he was enthusiastic to greet them when they saw him on the second floor of the lab.
“Hello, wanderer. Please forgive us of our humble surroundings. Our true home awaits us in the Far Beyond. Have you come to help us complete the Great Journey?” His voice wasn’t gravelly like most other ghouls. It had a more electronically resonating sound, like he was speaking through a fan, or a radio.
“Oh my god, he’s off his bloody rocker…” Rob mumbled under his breath before continuing louder, “And you’re Jason, I’m guessing?”
““Jason Bright, the prophet of the Great Journey. All the ghouls you see here are members of my flock.”
“Your name is…actually Bright?”
Bright raised his brows, partially humorously. “An auspicious name, don't you think? It was mine before I became as I am now. Before the Great War, even. Truly does the creator author a destiny for each and every one of us.”
“Okay, well, if you care to take a break from insanity for a moment, I’m here because some ferals have been wandering into Novac from here.”
“And they've been shooting them down like animals, haven't they? Those ghouls were members of my flock, even after the madness consumed their minds. We never let them wander free. We kept them safe on the first floor. We kept them contained. The demons must have let them out, somehow…” Jason sighed heavily. “Please, wanderer, bear in mind that every feral ghoul you spare now is one that we can save later. Once the way is clear, our feral brothers and sisters will accompany us on the Great Journey. If there are any left…”
“Okay, can we get something straight? My name is Rob. Stop calling me ‘wanderer,’ it makes it sound I’m part of your fucking cult.”
Jason paused. “Very well...Rob.”
“Thank you. Second of, what in hell’s bloody bells are you talking about? The ‘Great Journey?’”
“We wish to escape the barbarity of the wasteland, especially the violence and bigotry of its human inhabitants. The creator has promised to my flock a new land: a place of safety and healing...a paradise in the Far Beyond. Preparations for the Great Journey were nearly complete when the demons appeared.”
“...Sorry, what? Demons, now?”
“The demons appeared from nowhere... except it might be more accurate to say they never actually ‘appeared’ at all. The demons are invisible. Where one of them stands, the most one sees is the air shimmering, like sunlight on water…” Jason’s face looked pained as he continued. “They set upon us as we were on our way to worship one morning. We had just entered the basement.They set upon us as we were on our way to worship one morning. We had just entered the basement. My flock fought bravely, and killed a few, but at such cost. Nearly half of us died or went missing. The rest of us retreated up here. One of the demons raved at us, but they have not tried to attack us since. Still, their demonic presence brought all progress towards the Great Journey to a standstill,” His face lit up, “But now you have come. Once again, the creator has sent a human to help us across a seemingly insurmountable obstacle.”
“The demon...raved at you?”
“Yes, over the intercom. Threats of death should we step outside, guarantees of safety should we stay locked away. It went on for hours, and did not always make sense. But that was the first day only. Since then, silence. Will you drive away the demons, wanderer?”
Rob weighed his options. The demons were clearly Nightkin, and with Nightkin came Stealth Boys. Rob already had some stealth boys of his own, a couple he had picked up in the main building. But even if he didn’t use all of them, they were extremely valuable, and likely to sell for a very high price. Similarly, it would be interesting to see first-hand the effects of Stealth Boy use on a Nightkin’s mental facilities.
“Fine, I’ll ‘drive away’ the demons.”
Jason beamed. “Bless you, Rob. You truly are a gift from the creator.”
“Yeah, sure, fine, can we talk about the human out there that thinks he’s a ghoul?”
“Hm? Oh, you’re referring to Chris. I doubt you had much luck if you tried telling him that he's human. We had the same discussions when he first appeared, and the same lack of success. He believes he is one of us. Soon enough we realized that Chris was a gift from the creator. He is integral to the success of the Great Journey.”
Rob thought that sounded a bit disingenuous, but he didn’t care enough to press the issue. “Mhm. Well, me and Boone better go tend to your....demon issue.”
“Again, bless you, Rob.. May the creator be with you.”
“Yeah, yeah.”
They headed out of the lab and back to the bloody door, presumably leading to the basement.
“I don’t want to go down there,” He sighed.
“Me neither,” Boone agreed.
ED-E beeped.
“So...ladies first.” Rob stood aside.
“I’m not killing myself down there just so that you feel safe.”
Rob groaned loudly. “Booone.”
“No.”
He sighed irritably. “Fine. ED-E.” Rob opened the metal door to stairs leading down into a metal room. “Scan the area.”
ED-E beeped twice and complied, floating into the room and turning a circle before turning to the right wall, beeping thrice.
“...Okay. Something there.” Rob whispered, getting low and entering the room.
The first room in the basement looked more like a metal bunker, and was lit by a barrel fire inside, obscuring the room partially in smoke. ED-E was facing the doorway leading into a hall to the right.
“Real quiet. Too quiet,” Boone muttered.
“Certainly is. Now, we’ll just get rid of the nightkin-”
“Nightkin?”
Rob sighed loudly and put his face in his hand, “Yes, Boone. The ‘demons’ are Nightkin. Like the ones we found in the facility?”
“Oh. Oooh.” Boone paused. “Shit, how didn’t I realize that?”
“Because you’re a little dull, Boone.”
“Shut the fuck-”
“Aaaanyways, c’mon, let’s see what we’re dealing with. I feel you’ll be useful. If you can spot someone kilo-I mean, miles away, you can spot an invisible Nightkin.”
Boone sighed and headed to the doorway on the right wall. It led to more snaking metal hallways, one off to the left and downwards, with a doorway leading into another room and another hallway branching off before the metal stairs that led downwards, and one to the right that turned left after a few feet. Rob peeked at the hallways over Boone’s shoulder.
“You’re short.”
“Shut up,” Boone whispered harshly.
“You are!”
“I’m serious, be quiet.” Boone took off his sunglasses and stared down the hallway to the right.
There were a few heavy footsteps and grunts beyond the corner. Rob held his rifle closer to himself.
“Oooh shiiit…” Rob whispered.
Boone backed into the room with Rob. Rob pressed his back against the wall beside the doorway.
“ED-E, initiate battle protocol, please!”
ED-E beeped and floated into the hallway. There was a deep yell along with the sound of ED-E firing his lasers. After a few seconds, ED-E floated back into the metal room, a huge, purple Nightkin in rags in tow.
“FUCK!” Rob fired his rifle at the Nightkin’s arm. It didn’t do much other than burn it.
The Nightkin yelled and swung its sledgehammer at ED-E, who deftly dodged it. It then turned to Rob and raised its sledgehammer before a loud bang echoed through the halls as Boone’s rifle sent a bullet through its head. Rob yelped and jumped out of the way as the Nightkin fell to the ground.
“Oh my god. Oh my god, you saved my life, Boone. Give me a hug.”
Boone backed away as Rob approached. “No thank you.”
“Oh, you’re a prick. I bet it’s just because-”
“It’s because you’re an asshole.”
“Screw you, too, then.” Rob sat down and looked through his bag.
“What are you looking for?”
“My over-charged microfusion cells. I feel that’s the only thing that’s gonna make these plasma rounds get through the mutants.”
“Good idea. Should probably switch to a buckshot myself. Only reason that got through is ‘cause it was close range.”
After they had switched out their ammunition and continued down the hall, this time to the left. The hall terminated in a closed door at the very end, with a dead Nightkin lying in front of it. Another short hall split off just before it, leading to another closed door. Rob chose the door with the least proximity to a corpse.
He quickly regretted his decision when the door opened to reveal another nightkin, this one without a hood, and standing behind a table. Upon the table lay a coffee maker, and perched on the coffee maker was an old, worn brahmin skull. Strangely enough, the nightkin didn’t immediately attack, and chose to speak first.
“What’s that, Antler? We have a visitor?” His voice was very deep and brutish, like most Nightkin, but had a sort of tinge of sophistication to it, likely the last hint of the person he used to be. “An assassin, more like! I say kill it, Antler! For safe’s sake!” The Nightkin stopped himself and looked at the skull again, regarding it as though it were speaking, “Huh?...Okay, Antler. I’ll ask.” He turned to Rob. “Hi, human. Why have you come here? And why did I hear loud sounds from outside?”
“Uh…” Rob looked at Boone, who looked back at him, shocked, and said nothing. “That was...a scavenger. A...mean human who came from outside this building. Me and my...friend followed him in, and we tried to save your kin, but, unfortunately, he was, eh, dead when we got here. We did kill him after, though. To...avenge your kin.
The Nightkin paused. “Antler says you are telling the truth, so I will trust you. You are lucky, human. Why are you here?”
“I’m here on behalf of the ghouls upstairs.”
“A human who is friend to ghouls?” The Nightkin frowned as he spoke to himself, or maybe to Antler. “Suspicious.” He seemed to stop talking to himself. “You mean the ones upstairs. Antler used intercom, told them stay put. But they want to come down in basement anyways? I cannot allow. My kin are...not right in head like I am. They attack you on sight. Ghouls too. They crazy. Your ghoul friends have to wait until you find what Antler brought us to get.”
“Well, I’ll help you find what you want, if you leave after getting it.”
“Good. Antler brought us here for a reason...Why was that, Antler? Right! A piece of paper. Shipment invoice. Hundreds of Stealth Boys, sent here a long time ago...But Stealth Boys must be in the one room one we don't search yet - the one we can't search.”
“And why can’t you search it?”
“A ghoul. But not squishy like others. This ghoul is tough. I thought Antler said send my kin into that room, but three died. Ghoul is a crack shot and set traps too. After, I realize I heard Antler wrong. So I lock the door to keep kin out and wait for Antler to tell me what to do. Then you come along. Antler says you are solution.”
“So you want me to get past that ghoul?”
“Yes, Antler says we leave here as soon as we get Stealth Boys. Let me give you key. Antler had me lock the door. The ghoul inside not expecting a human. Maybe he don't shoot you. Maybe he will.”
The Nightkin looked at the table and picked up a key for the metal door, though it took him a moment with his large hands, and held it out to Rob.
Roberto decided helping the Nightkin would be easier than fighting them. He took the key and put it in his pocket, quickly wiping his hands on his jacket afterwards. “And who are you?”
The Nightkin paused. “Me? I am devoted to Antler. But before Antler? Hmm…” He furrowed his brow, thinking hard. “Captain, once. Last name, Davison. First name...don't remember. I commanded a troop of Nightkin. The Master's elite. A great honor, very proud. Something happened. We wandered the desert. Life without Master was...hard. The others' minds going strange, going crazy. But then I found us new master. I find us Antler! Since then, everything's been going really well.” He nodded, as if affirming his own assertions.
Seems Davison was a part of Richard Grey’s original mutant army. That meant he was very old, and if he was a Captain, probably one of Grey’s more refined specimens. Likely why he was also a bit more right in the head than the other Nightkin.
“Hm. Well, anyways, let’s go get those Stealth Boys, Boone.”
They headed out into the hallway once more, and approached the locked door at the end. The door, once unlocked, opened into a large, underground warehouse. As Rob stepped in, he heard a raspy voice from above.
“Come and get it, you big dumb-” The gravelly voice stopped itself. “Hey! You’re not one of those things out there. Who the hell are you?”
Rob looked up to see metal walkways near the ceiling. A ghoul was on the edge of a walkway that had broken off at the end, allowing a clear view of the doorway. He definitely looked hardier than the others, wearing a thick, long coat rather than robes and holding a rifle.
“I’m Rob, and I expect a kinder greeting. Who the hell are you?”
“Harland.” Harland pointed at Boone. “Who’s that guy?”
“The ‘guy’ is Boone, the robot’s ED-E.”
“Doesn’t look like any robot I’ve ever seen.” Harland muttered.
“So how the hell did you end up trapped down here?” Rob questioned.
“First off, I'm not trapped. This was a tactical choice, all right? I'm no match for those things out there, so I found a good defensive position, and I've been defending it, right?” Harland held Rob’s eyes for a long moment, then sighed, hanging his head. “...Aw, who am I fooling? I'm trapped.”
“No shit.”
“What happened was, I was escorting folks down to work when those things attacked us. Most of the fight was upstairs, but some folks panicked and made for the basement. And I went after them. Well, turns out there were even more of those bastards down here than upstairs, and things went to shit fast. I couldn't find the others, so I fell back to this room and set up a nice little kill zone. End of story.”
“You’re with Bright, then? You don’t look like the rest of that lot.”
“Guess the outfit gives that away, huh? I never did buy into that religious mumbo-jumbo with the robes and all that shit. It gets lonely out in the wastes, okay? And I don't have to tell you that Bright's group has got some fine-looking ghoulettes in it!” Harland paused, looking at the walkway for a moment. “Eh...or maybe I would have to tell you…” He shrugged dismissively. “Anyway, I helped them out, and they kept me supplied with ammo and pleasant company.”
“Well…have you seen a shipment of stealth boys in here?”
Harland scoffed. “If there was some big stash of devices in here that made you invisible, do you really think we'd be having this conversation?”
“Can I at least see for myself?”
“The only thing you'll find up here is a bullet hole between your eyes. Got any better ideas?”
“I have an idea that you’re a petty little bastard, is all.”
“Well, your idea would be right, then.”
“Then what would make you get out of here?”
“Listen, if this was just between you and me, I'd do as you ask. But it's not.” Harland sighed, heavier this time. “I had a friend with me when those mutant bastards came out of nowheres. She panicked and ran the wrong direction - further into the basement. She's probably dead, but I ain't leaving until I know for sure. I'd have gone looking myself, except I wouldn't last a minute out there. You, on the other hand, seem pretty resourceful. Find my friend, and I'll get out of your way.”
Rob groaned irritably and exaggeratedly. “Uuugh. Fine. I’ll see what happened to your little friend.”
“Thanks. Let me know what you find out. Here's hoping she's okay.”
They stepped out of the room and back into the hallway.
“...I don’t really want to go deeper into the basement.” Boone asserted rather obviously.
“Yeah, me neither. I figure we might get something out of Davison.”

“A ghoul…lady?” Davison looked at Antler, quiet for a moment, presumably waiting for Antler’s reply. “...Hm…Antler say that Jailer take ghoul down.”
“...Down? Further in the basement?”
Davison nodded. “But Jailer too…hm…too rough. I tell him not to kill ghoul, but he did not listen. Ghoul dead now.”
“I…see. Did you see any other ghouls here, in the basement? Other than the dead ghoul and the, er…not-squishy ghoul in the other room?”
“Mmm…No.” He looked at Antler quietly for a moment before nodding and looking back at Rob. “Antler say he did not see any…other ghoul.”
Boone sighed. Rob nodded in turn.
“Thank you, Davison. I think I’ll be able to solve your stealth-boy problem soon.”
“Good! Antler sings for Stealth Boys!”

“Did you find my friend?” Harland questioned expectantly upon seeing Rob and Boone enter once again.
“The Nightkin did first, unfortunately.”
Harland lowered his rifle, looking defeated. “Damn it, I'm going to miss that crooked, yellow smile…” He took a breath and looked back up. “All right, you did your part, so I'll do mine. Look around up here if you want. I'm going to make a break for topside.”
“Thank god for it,” Rob mumbled as Harland headed to the stairs down from the walkway on the far end of the warehouse, taking a moment to disable some of the bear traps he had left on the ground leading over to them.
“Keep an ear out.” Boone warned as Harland stepped past them, through the doorway.
“Yeah, I will. Good luck.” Harland pat Boone on the shoulder as he passed, then continued into the hallway, moving low and fast.
Thankfully, Boone and Rob didn’t hear anything to indicate that he had been caught. They headed through the warehouse, weaving around the Nightkin bodies and mines Harland had left, and up onto the metal walkway above. After a fruitless search through a few empty boxes, Rob spotted, surprisingly, a functioning terminal.
“What’s it say?” Boone looked over Rob’s shoulder at the terminal screen.
Rob sighed and stood up, slapping the side of the terminal in frustration.
“It looks like the stealth boys were only sent here by mistake. A couple of workers stole a few of them to get up to some unsavoury business, and so they were all sent back.”
“Shit.”
“Yeah. Shit indeed. Let’s hope Davison doesn’t fucking kill us.”

“So…the stealth boys were here. But, er…whoever was here before the ghouls sent them back. To a company called ‘RobCo.’”
“But invoice note said Stealth Boys were here! Why can't that note be true?”
Rob braced for Davison to lose it completely. Boone gripped his rifle nervously.
Before he could, however, he turned to Antler once more. “What, Antler?...But human could be lying! Stealing the Stealth Boys for itself!” Davison huffed. “Oh, Antler...You trust so easy…” He looked back at Rob. “Your lucky day, human. Antler believe you. Nightkin will follow the new note to find Stealth Boys. Better be there.”
“Okay, well, you…go do that.”
Rob quickly stepped out of the way as Davison grabbed Antler and stomped past him and Boone, leaning over to get through the doorway and out into the hallway.
“MY KIN! NO STEALTH BOYS HERE! COME! WE WILL GO! FIND THEM AGAIN!”
They heard the thunderous footsteps of the Nightkin throughout the basement following Davison out. Once the footsteps had ceased, Rob relaxed.
“Oh, thank god. I thought for sure he was going to lose his bloody marbles.”
“Well, he didn't,” Boone replied nonchalantly, “We should tell Jason.”

Jason beamed when he got the news, looking the happiest Rob had seen a non-high ghoul in a long time.
“Praise the creator! And bless you, wanderer! The way is clear. I will lead my flock through the basement to the sacred site! I hope you will come find us there, wanderer! There is much to be done,” He raised his voice and directed his words to his followers, who had gathered around him, listening to the news. “Come now, my flock! The demons have been cleansed, and we may proceed with our preparations!”
Jason and his “flock” herded over to the entrance and went into the building, towards the basement. Rob sighed irritably.
“Of course. Y’know, I am thisseriously going to go to the ‘Great Beyond’ by…launching yourself into space with those bloody rockets?”
“Yes. The rockets will convey us to our promised land in the Far Beyond. Vision upon vision has confirmed it.”
“Those rockets were built two centuries ago, they’re going to convey you straight into the fucking ground.”
“I understand your concerns, friend, and I thank you for voicing them. But the creator's will for us has been made manifest.”
Jason was clearly not going to be convinced.
“Okay, and, about Chris. You asked him to leave just now, and you’re talking about this ‘journey’ on your rockets…you aren’t giving us the full picture here.”
Jason sighed deeply, turning his eyes downwards. “After all that you have done for us, I suppose you deserve to know everything…When Chris came to us, we tried to convince him that he was human. But this only angered him. He seemed...lost. We decided to let him stay with us for a few days, over the course of which we learned that his technical skills far surpassed our own. It became clear that the creator had sent him to us, to ensure the success of the Great Journey. Equally clear was that Chris should labor in blessed ignorance of his humanity, and his inability to make the journey himself. It is no coincidence that two humans have been vital to the success of the Great Journey. It is my belief that the creator sent you and Chris to expiate the sins of your kind against mine. You are redeemers both.”
“Wait. You’re just going to leave him behind, then?”
Jason continued looking at the ground. “Such is the creator's will. Vision upon vision has shown me that, were Chris to accompany us, he would die in minutes. The radiation around the launch pad alone would kill Chris in minutes. The radioactivity of the Far Beyond is much stronger.” Though his words were convicted, his voice was significantly more strained than before, as if he wasn’t quite convinced of that conviction.
“Oh my god, seriously?” Rob snorted, then let out a guffaw. “Bloody hell, you really pulled the wool over his eyes, didn’t you?”
“I take no pleasure in hiding the truth from Chris. But it is the creator's will, to which I must submit. And…Chris shall be declared the Saint of the Great Journey before we depart. I hope it will ease his sadness…”
“Oh my god…” Rob wheezed. “Fuckin’ ‘ell. I’m going to go talk to Chris.”
Jason opened his mouth, stopped himself, and looked away. He did seem genuinely remorseful.
Rob opened the door, where Chris was waiting just outside.
“Are you done?”
“Oh, sure, we’re done.”
“...Sure. So, Jason says that I am to cooperate with you on the final tasks necessary to launch the Great Journey.”
“Oh, of course, but, first.” Once Boone and ED-E were through the door, Rob closed the door into the other room, then turned back to Chris. “So…what exactly do you do here?”
“I'm the flock's resident engineer. I've always been good with machines. Jason says the Great Journey would've been impossible without me.”
“Okay, so, if you’re their engineer, why aren’t you working directly on the launch pad?”
“When I joined the flock, Jason made it clear that he wanted me to supervise the repairs, not do them myself.” Chris continued with a tinge of pride in his exaggeratedly raspy voice. “It would be a waste of my gifts to work on just one system at a time. From up here, I've been able to supervise the entire project.”
Rob snorted incredulously. “You seriously think that’s why they won’t let you work down there? The place is so radioactive it’d kill you in minutes, and horribly, too. Because you’re a human.”
Chris scowled and crossed his arms defensively. “I thought we were past all that, smoothskin. But you just can't resist the chance to mess with me. Typical human. I was human once, you know. Grew up in Vault 34, northeast of here. Nice upbringing, if you like assault rifles and target practice. But oh, you prefer machines that don't shoot people? Not so nice then. Who should maintain the Vault's reactor? Houser? Mitchell? No - make it Haversam.” Chris started raising his voice. “He likes machines! Haversam won't mind getting irradiated! Haversam won't mind mutating! He's already ugly as it is! Haversam won't mind when his hair starts falling out after a few years. There's no connection, Haversam! YOU’RE NEUROTIC!”
“You are neurotic, you bloody loon! Jason told me himself that you’re not fuckin’ coming, because you’re a HUMAN!”
The anger melted off of Chris’s face as he realized, with growing horror, that Rob was telling the truth, however rude he was.
“Oh god! You're telling me the truth, aren't you...? Oh no! How could they do this to me?” He took a step back, wringing his hands anxiously. “For two years? My god, I've been a joke to them!” The rage spread over his face again. “Do you have any idea how easy it'd be for me to sabotage those rockets? That'd be a joke, huh? One hell of a joke!”
Boone looked at Rob, his concern visible even past his shades. Rob actually felt somewhat concerned himself. As frustrated as he was with the ghouls, and with Chris himself, their extreme naivety was somewhat endearing. Deep down, he did feel it would be a shame to let them all go at each other’s throats.
“Chris, as stupid as these ghouls - as all of you are, really, they didn’t do this to trick you.”
“And why should I believe that?! They’ve been using me for two years! Two years they could have told me the truth, but they didn’t!”
“God dammit, if you don’t believe them, believe me. Jason wanted to revere you as a saint, he told me that much. He…really seems to feel awful about all this.”
“Oh, so I've redeemed the human race, is that it?” Chris scoffed. “What a crock! The human race can't stand me!”
“That’s not true.” Boone interjected. “You’re fine. I think so, anyway. If you want, you could go to Novac. I think…they would like to have you.”
“Life among humans again, that's what you're suggesting?” Chris paused for a long moment. “I guess...I guess it's the only chance I've got. I can't believe I'm agreeing to this, but I'll give it a try. I'll get Jason and his flock on their way, and then I'll head for Novac.”
“I do think that would, er, be for the best, Chris.” Rob assured him awkwardly. He wasn’t really used to reassuring people. “So…what will we need to do that?”
“Right, the parts…” Chris sighed and paused to think. “Two components are missing: a quantity of Isotope-239 igniting agent, and a set of thrust control modules. The igniting agent is highly radioactive, and decays quickly. That's why we can't use the drums that leaked down on the launch pad. It's no longer potent enough. I need you to find an intact, shielded container of the igniting agent. As for the thrust control modules, they were custom-built for these rockets. They won't even launch without them.”
“I see…” Rob paused. He remembered a similar-looking substance to the Isotope-239. That wouldn’t be a problem. “Okay. How much of the igniting agent would we need?”
“We don’t need a huge amount. Two to three liters should be enough.”
Boone looked at Rob. “What…is that?”
“Highly radioactive. Not something you can scoop back into the can. Glows, if I remember correctly. Very useful, though, and very stereotypical. Like me.” Rob grinned and turned back to Chris. “And where do you think I would find some old thrust control modules?”
“Scavengers wouldn't know the value of the modules just by looking at them. If you know any junk dealers in the area, I'd start there.”
Boone nodded knowingly, making Rob think he had a lead.
“I think we know what to do. We’ll be back with your parts soon.”
“Okay.” Chris sighed. “And then…” He shook his head. “I’ll focus on…getting everything ready.”
As they headed back outside. Rob turned to Boone.
“That guy in Novac, the one that sells those stupid dinosaurs, I noticed he was also selling a few rocket figurines filled with some sort of glowing liquid. Are they radioactive?”
Boone thought for a moment. “Yeah...I remember I was going in for my night shift while he was heading out, and I accidentally knocked one over. It didn’t break, but he got scared. Started telling me about how dangerous it was.”
“Secure container, too. Good.”
As they headed outside, Rob looked up, seeing how dark the sky had gotten. “Bloody hell, has it been that long?”
“Looks like it.”
“I say we go get some rest at one of those lookouts by the overpass. Probably safer, there.”
“Easier to keep a lookout from there.” Boone shrugged. “I’m fine with it if you are.”
They headed to the lookout, where Rob laid out a sleeping bag inside the junk walls, while Boone sat on the chair nearby.
“Are you going to bed?”
“I’ll keep watch.”
Rob shrugged. “Alright. No skin off my nose.” He laid down on his sleeping bag and pat it. “ED-E, come here.”
ED-E floated down and sat on the ground by the sleeping bag. Rob turned him around.
“Alright, lil’ baby, don’t want you overheating, so I’ll shut you off for a bit.”
ED-E beeped acceptingly. Rob switched him off and hugged him close as he drifted to sleep. It was easier than he remembered it being.

“I gotta say, I wasn’t expectin’ him to be good on his word.” Luci commented as she led the way out of town.
Jake shrugged. “Hey, I’m not complaining.”
“Well, sure, I ain’t neither.” Luci looked to the Northwest, where she could see kind of curious spire sticking up out of the ground, too close and too small to be the big tower she knew was in Vegas. The billboard along the right side of the road advertised a place called “Helios ONE,” where she assumed the spire was coming from.
“I also gotta say, I wasn’t expectin’ you to buy those stupid little rockets.”
“Aw, c’mon! Did you see the look on Cliff’s face?” Jake grinned. “I’d say it was totally worth it.”
As they continued down the highway, she could see a large building just next to it, and as they reached a slope downwards on the road, Luci could see a gas station and a billboard just preceding it, it’s back to them. She stopped.
“Good place for an ambush.”
“Hm? Oh, yeah.” Jake looked between her and the billboard. “...So…What do we do about it?”
Luci grabbed a stick of dynamite from her bag. “Wait here.”
“Woah, wait, we don’t know if anyone’s there, let alone if they’re dang-”
Jake yelped and ducked down behind the concrete road dividers as a couple of bullets whizzed by him, quickly joined by Luci. Charon stayed up to return fire for a moment before taking cover as well.
“Fuck.” He mumbled, clutching his side.
“Oh, shit, Charon, are you okay?” Jake questioned frantically.
“Fine.”
“Well, I think they’re dangerous, man.” Luci peeked out from behind the concrete divider, just for a moment. “Okay, lay down some cover fire. There’s a gap under the billboard, I’ll chuck this under.”
“Got it. Are you still good to shoot, Charon?”
Charon growled in reply, if that could be called a reply, and started laying down the cover fire. Luci followed along the concrete dividers further up, waiting until she was a suitable distance from Jake and Charon and far enough that whoever was attacking couldn’t see her past the billboard, and hopped the dividers. She darted across the road into the brush alongside it, making her way through it as the gunfire continued with little breaks. It did seem that Jake and Charon managed to take out a couple of their attackers, as Luci could see them fall from under the billboard. Once she was close enough, she lit the dynamite, careful not to ignite the dry, surrounding brush, and tossed it under the billboard. After a moment, the dynamite went off, shaking the billboard and taking out whoever was behind it.
“Hell yeah!” Luci raised her fists, then paused, then bolted when she saw that the billboard was starting to lean towards her. Just as she reached Jake and Charon, the billboard collapsed with the screaming of its metal joint and a resounding thud as it hit the ground. Jake sighed and stood up.
“Whew. Good job.”
“Mmhm. Pro’ly should’ve taken that billboard into account.” Luci looked around. “Hey, Dante, s’alright!”
Dante slipped out from behind a rock on the other side of the road and trotted cautiously up to Luci. She picked him up and looked at Charon.
“You alright?”
“I am fine.”
“Hey, no you’re not, you got shot.” Jake paused, then reached into his bag. “One second.”
“...Do stimpaks work on ghouls?” Luci questioned, looking into Jake’s bag.
“Yeah.”
“It would be a waste of supplies.” Charon grunted.
“I do have something that would help.” Jake produced the rocket figurine he had bought from the man in the Dinosaur.
Charon’s usually straight face was broken for a moment, betraying his bafflement.
“...What?”
“I just realized, this stuff inside, this is Isotope-239. Pretty highly radioactive.”
“...Should, uh, should you just be carryin’ that around?”
“Probably not. But radioactive stuff heals ghouls. Charon, here.” Jake handed the rocket over. “But, um, you should probably apply it further away. Like I said, that stuff is…potent.”
Charon took it and looked it over. “...Very well.”

Charon seemed to look a bit better when he returned from applying the isotope, and so they headed to the gas station. They didn’t find too much in there, besides a few caps, and so continued down the road. They hadn’t gone for too long before they spotted a campfire, just in front of a Sunset Sarsaparilla billboard. Sitting at the campfire, on an old tree stump, was a black man around Luci’s age, with a worn, weary-looking face, a thick handlebar mustache, and a broad hat providing shade over his eyes. He was holding an acoustic guitar and absent-mindedly playing a few simple tunes before he noticed them, putting it aside as they approached.
“Howdy, partners. Little lady.” He nodded at Jake and Charon, and Luci, respectively. He had a deep, but gentle voice.
“Howdy.” Luci paused, looking at the guitar. “Mighty fine guitar you got there.”
“Oh, this old thing? Why, thanks, friend. This here guitar is just about the only thing my daddy left me.”
“That so?”
The man nodded, then paused, and gestured to the fire. “I don’t mind if you folks wanna take a moment and sit down by the fire, by the by. You look like you been a ways.”
“Heh. You have no idea.” Luci sat down, prompting Jake to follow suit, though Charon stayed standing.
“You don’t wanna rest, partner?”
“No.” Charon replied curtly, narrowing his eyes suspiciously at the man.
“...Well, alright, then.” The man continued playing a simple tune.
Jake grabbed a can of food from his bag, as did Luci. They ate their lunch peacefully, Jake offering some the other half of his can of beans to the Drifter, who took it graciously. After they were done, Luci borrowed another cigarette from Charon.
“When did your dad leave?” Jake questioned quietly.
“Long time ago, now. I never even knew him. Ma always said he was a mysterious feller, always traveling on in secret.”
“He just abandoned you?”
“That he did. Never did know why. Ma always said he was a real mysterious feller, even when he was with her. Like he was a stranger sometimes.”
“...Well, maybe he…had a reason for it, y’know?”
“Maybe he did, maybe he didn't, but that don't change the fact that it wasn't right.” The Drifter didn’t sound particularly angry, just matter-of-fact.
“I’m…sure you’re probably better off without him. Y’know, being your own man and all.”
Luci had a feeling Jake didn’t know well enough about the situation to comfort the Drifter, but she said nothing.
“I suppose there's that, but a man oughta know his own Pa, and a woman oughtn't have to work herself to an early grave to provide for her family.” The Drifter shook his head. “After Ma died, I guess I wanted to find my Pa and get some answers from him. Been out here looking ever since, but he ain't an easy man to find.”
“What do you plan on doing when you find him, then?”
The Drifter paused, then shrugged. “Can't say as I really know. Maybe I'll just ask him why. Maybe I'll punch him right in the mouth. Hell, the more I talk about it, the more the whole damn thing sounds like a dumb idea.”
“He sounds like a piece of shit. You should pop a bullet in his chest when you do find ‘im.” Luci added solemnly, exhaling the cigarette smoke.
“Luci.” Jake chided her quietly.
“Maybe I will.” The Drifter replied, stopping his strumming. “Or maybe I'll just ask him why he left. Hell, the more I talk about it, the more the whole damn thing sounds like a dumb idea.”
“It’s not a dumb idea if somethin’ comes of it.” Luci took a drag of her cigarette and stood up. “Well. We should get goin’. Thanks for lettin’ us rest a spell, stranger.”
“No problem.” The Drifter nodded and continued strumming.

They reached a crossroads at around mid-day, where they could just make out the tall, thin tower marking Vegas past what appeared to be a trading post and a caravan set up on top of an overpass to the west, and to their left. To their right lay a billboard advertising Boulder City, and pointing them down the road to the east to get there.
The roads to boulder city were cracked and poorly maintained, even relative to the main highway, and when they came within sight of the city, it didn’t look to be in much better condition. While the small train station and old train tracks to their left, farther from the city, looked to be in decent condition, the city itself was mostly rubble or half-destroyed buildings. Most of what was left was a stone monument erected just next to the road into the city, and the intact building next to it, the sign indicating that was a saloon. Luci had no idea why someone would run a saloon out of a ghost town.
Strangely enough, however, it wasn’t quite a ghost town. A few NCR troopers were waiting just outside the rubble separating them from the heart of the city, and the main site of the destruction. They noticed Luci entering, and looked just as puzzled to see her as she was to see them.
“What’re they here for?” She questioned, eyeing them as they continued down the road. “And where the hell would Benny be in this ghost town?”
“I dunno.” Jake pointed at the monument. “That seems to be theirs, though.”
Luci looked at the monument as they passed. It seemed to describe a battle that took place there, with the NCR coming out on top. It also bore a carving of a two-headed bear, like on that flag of theirs.
“Guess so.”
They continued along the rubble and the half-standing walls until they reached a break in it - which was blocked by a barricade of a hacked-together junk wall and a sandbag barrier. Next to the makeshift gate in the barricade, an NCR soldier with a green beret was leaning over a table with a radio on it, seemingly trying to communicate with someone.
“Yes, but-” He stopped upon realizing that whoever he was speaking to had cut out, sighed, and stood up when he noticed Jake and Luci. “Woah, hey. We've got a situation with some Great Khans right now. The brass at McCarran has ordered me to lock down the ruins until it's been resolved.”
“Great Khans?” Luci looked at the barrier. “What the hell happened?”
“One of my patrols was on its way back from Novac when it came under fire from the Great Khans. They radioed for reinforcements, but instead of waiting for us, they chased the Khans into the ruins where they were caught in a crossfire. No deaths, but not all of the squad got out. The Khans have Private Ackerman and Private Gilbert as hostages.”
“Shit. Well, they got something of mine I need back. A platinum chip, have you heard anything about it?”
The man sighed again. Luci was suddenly aware of how just how tired he was. “Once the Great Khans have been killed or captured, you're welcome to retrieve any property they've taken from you.”
“Well, what’re you gonna do ‘bout them?”
“Get rid of them.”
“And what about the hostages?”
He turned his eyes downwards. “Acceptable casualties, I've been told. I don't like it, but the brass has their reasons.”
“Shit.” Luci crossed her arms and thought.
It seemed Jake had been thinking too, and he interjected. “How about me and Luci here try to negotiate with them?”
The man looked up, a little taken aback. “...Sorry, who are you?”
“Jake Morgan. Listen…” Jake squinted at the name on the man’s dog tags. “Lieutenant Monroe, I know we’re not professional negotiators or anything, but I’ve talked my way outta some stuff like this before. Plus, Luci has a, um, passing familiarity with the Khans. I think seeing someone they know might bring them down a little.”
Monroe paused, looking between him and Luci, before sighing again and replying, “Normally, I'd turn you down since I have no idea who you are, but considering that the hostages are as good as dead when we attack…” He stood up, looking a little less crestfallen than he had before. “All right, I'm going to give you a chance to talk to the Great Khans. Their leader is a man named Jessup. If we hear shooting, we'll be coming in, but it'll probably be late for you. Understood?”
“Understood.”
“Got it, man.” Luci nodded.
“Good luck.”
“Thanks.” Jake turned to Charon. “Stay out here and keep an eye on Dogmeat, okay, Charon?”
“As you wish.”
“Thanks, Charon. Dogmeat, stay.”
Dogmeat whined, seemingly recognizing the danger his owner was walking into, but sat down obediently nonetheless.
“Good boy.”
Luci plucked Dante off of her shoulders and placed him on the ground. “Stay here, little man.”
Dante meowed plaintively and paced about, looking up at Luci.
“Sorry, Dante. Anyway, let’s see what we can do, Jake.”
The inner city was even more littered with rubble and old cars than the outskirts, and the NCR soldiers keeping an eye out past the barrier were using them as cover, keeping a close eye on a building to the right of the barrier, down at the end of the street.
Jake placed his bag and his weapons behind the barrier, next to an NCR Soldier.
“Who the hell are you?” She whispered harshly, looking between him and the street.
“We’re the negotiators. Keep an eye on my stuff, will ya?” Jake turned to Luci. “You should probably put your weapons here. If we walk in there armed to the teeth, they’re not gonna hear a word we have to say.”
“...You sure?”
“Positive. They’ll just think we’re mercs.”
Luci sighed and hesitantly placed her pistol and rifles with Jake’s stuff. She kept her knife in her boot.
“Okay.” Jake retrieved a combat helmet from his bag and put it on before standing up. “This is a long shot, but I’ll go first. I got the better armor, okay?”
“If shit goes down, I ain’t lettin’ them shoot you up.”
“I know, but…just listen to me, okay?”
Luci huffed. “Alrigh’. Only ‘cause you said so, kid.”
Jake led the way down the street, where they spotted some unsavory-looking folks, dressed similar to the other Khans Luci had seen back when she was shot in the head, hiding in the adjacent building and behind a bus stop. They all turned to Jake and Luci as they approached, their guns at the ready.
“Who’re you?” One them, a woman with rather spiky hair, pressed them.
“Negotiators.” Jake held up his hands, and Luci begrudgingly did so, as well. “We don’t have any weapons on us.”
“What about under the poncho?”
Luci sighed and swept the front of the poncho over her shoulder, gesturing to her empty holster.
“...Okay. If you’re gonna talk to anyone, you should talk to Jessup. He’s in there.” She nodded at the building next to the one she was hiding out in, with the intact doors and windows.
“Alright. Thanks.”
The inside of the building was cramped, having seemingly been a small storefront before the city got destroyed, and it felt even smaller with how many Great Khans were inside, tensely watching the door as Jake opened it.
Luci immediately recognized the man behind the counter. He was the Khan with the tall mohawk and the bandana around his head. He had looked rather frantic when she last saw him, in that he looked a little too excited to be accompanying Benny in his kidnapping. But now he looked more panicked than anything, and his panic was magnified when he saw her, his eyes widening in shock.
“What the hell? You're that courier Benny wasted back in Goodsprings. You're supposed to be dead.”
“Maybe I am. Maybe I came back from the grave to haunt your sorry ass. OoOOooh.” Luci waved her hands about dramatically and cackled when Jessup’s look of surprise gave way to annoyance.
“Alright, quit fucking around. You survived and you tracked us down. What now?”
“Well, first, I want some fuckin’ answers.”
“Luci,” Jake whispered as she stepped past him, making the other Khans tense up.
“Woah, hey, back it up.” Jesse lifted his pistol again.
“Calm down, man, I don’t got a gun on me. First thing’s first, where’s the chip?”
“Don't have it. Benny stole it, right before he stabbed us in the back.” Jessup furrowed his brow. “He's probably back at the Strip by now, laughing at me.”
“Goddamnit.” Luci huffed. “Okay, so who in the sam hell is Benny, anyway?”
“He's one of the Chairmen, big shots who run The Tops casino in New Vegas. A friend from the city contacted me with info on a big job.” Jessup scoffed. “I should've known that the caps were too good to be true, but there was still no way I could pass up the chance.”
“So why’d he betray you?”
“He's a snake, that's why. He owed us the rest of the pay for the job, so maybe he didn't want to pay up.”
“I find snakes usually see everyone else as snakes, too. Makes ‘em jumpy.”
“Well, if I’d know that, I wouldna have accepted the fuckin’ job, would I?”
“Guess not. And what makes this job so big, anyhow? What’s so important about a goddamn poker chip that Benny goes through all this shit to get it?”
Jessup shrugged. “It’s just a big, fancy poker chip as far as I know. Don't know why anyone would make one out of platinum, though.”
“Right. I guess you got fucked just as much as I did, then.” She paused. “Actually, nah, I got shot, you just got left here.”
“Well, now I’m gonna get shot. Happy?”
“Woah, woah, it doesn’t have to come to that.” Jake interrupted.
“Who the fuck are you?”
“Be nice to the kid, asshole.”
“Luci, just-” Jake sighed. “I’m Jake Morgan, this is Lucía Perez, but you two probably know each other by now. I’m here to talk about this situation you’re in with the NCR.”
Jake tried to peer past Jessup into the back room of the building, where it appeared the hostages were bound and gagged, next to the body of a wounded Great Khan on a mattress. Jessup stepped in front of the door into the back room.
“What's to negotiate? The NCR backs off, we walk out of here, nobody gets hurt.”
“Okay, so, right, everyone wants that, and I’m sure you guys want to do that, but the NCR can’t trust that you will.”
“Then that’s too bad for them, isn’t it?”
“But you can resolve that. If you release the hostages now, the NCR will know that they can trust you enough to let you walk out here. I can go talk to them, and it’ll be way easier for me to convince them to let you walk if you do that. Okay?”
Jessup paused, looking at the other Khans. They all looked tired, and mostly looked as though they were okay with Jake’s deal if it meant that had a chance of getting out. Jessup looked back at Jake, sighing heavily as he lowered his pistol.
“I can't believe I'm doing this, but all right, the hostages can go. The NCR had better keep their end of the deal, though.”
“I’ll make sure of it.”
Jessup paused, then reached into his pocket and held out a lighter to Luci, making it her turn to be surprised.
“Here - a souvenir for you. It's Benny's lighter. Shove it up his ass when you catch up with him.”
“Yeah. I’ll make sure of that.” She grinned and pocketed the lighter. “I’ll put another bullet in him for ya.”
Jessup chuckled bitterly. “Yeah? Make it 10.”
Once the Great Khans let the hostages loose, Jake and Luci escorted them back across the street to the NCR’s side, intensely aware of every moment they had their backs to the Khans. To their surprise, they didn’t shoot. It looked like they had somehow won over Jessup.
Though Monroe looked relieved when he saw them, his voice was still tinged with anxiety.
“I'm glad you were able to get my people freed, but there's a new problem. I just got orders to take out the Great Khans, hostages or not.”
“They let them go to show you that you can trust them, not to get shot.” Jake replied firmly.
“My hands are tied. I can't go against orders…” He paused, furrowing his brow in frustration. “...can I?”
“If you have any integrity at all, you’ll honor the deal. They gave you reason to trust them, now you have to give them reason to trust you.”
Monroe thought for a long moment before slowly nodding in agreement. “You're right.” He looked up. “The Great Khans are free to go.”
“You’re doin’ the right thing, man.” Luci pat Monroe on the shoulder. He looked somewhat uncomfortable with the familiar gesture.
“...Okay. I’ll let everyone know, and they’ll escort the Khans out here. Thanks.”
“You’re welcome.” Jake nodded, smiling triumphantly as they headed past Monroe to the street once more.
“...So?” Charon raised a brow as they stepped away from Monroe.
“Benny ain’t here. He’s in the goddamn…Strip, or whatever they called it.”
“I see.”
“Hey, Dogmeat, come on, boy.” Jake kneeled down and hugged Dogmeat as he bounded over. “Good boy!” He looked back at Luci. “That’s, like, the part of Vegas with all the big casinos and stuff. Like Jessup said, he runs a fancy casino, so he’d definitely hang out there.”
“Well. Now I’m in it. I told ‘im I’d put one in Benny for ‘im, and I’m always good on my word.”
“...Yeah. I guess so.” Jake stood up. “I say we go check out that trading post, and call it a day there.”
“Sounds good. We ain’t in any hurry if that snake is already in his nest.”

Chapter Text

“CLIFF!” Rob barked as he entered the dinosaur gift shop.
Cliff jumped from where he was napping on his chair behind the counter and sat up, blinking the sleep from his eyes. “Huh?! What? Whats-oh, it’s you!”
“Yes, yes, it’s me, anyway, I assume you still have those stupid little rocket toys.”
“They’re not…” Cliff trailed off and sighed, defeated. “Yes. I do.”
“Great. I’d like to buy your remaining stock.”
Cliff stared at Rob in shock. “Really? I never thought I'd see the day. I mean…” He cleared his throat and stood up, his confidence seemingly having returned. “The day I'd part with them for such an incredibly low price. With so many other offers flooding in. But I like you. I think maybe it's time. All that's left is in this storage room here. You can buy the key from my store.” He gestured to the door to the right, behind the counter.
“Oh, please, you don’t have any other offers for those little trinkets and you know it. You’d be lucky to get any caps out of this at all.”
Cliff sighed, his shoulders sinking as the confidence drained out of him again. “Okay, I admit it. They've been collecting dust since before I got here. You can have them dirt cheap.”
“Thank you. I’ll be kind and offer you, I dunno, 10 caps.”
“Sure.”
Cliff handed over the key and took his meager amount of caps. Once he had put them away, Rob stepped behind the counter and opened the storage door, finding that his Pip-Boy’s Geiger Counter started clicking just by getting near the inside.
“What is that?” Cliff questioned, looking at the Pip-Boy.
“...Nevermind that, try not to sit too close to this door from now on.” Rob grabbed a rocket and tried to get a good look at how big the container inside was. four rockets would probably be enough for 2 liters, but, just in case, he took five.
Just as he closed the door, he heard the stairs creak as Manny entered the gift shop from above. He looked between Rob, his arms full of the rockets, and Cliff, leaning on his countertop.
“...Uh. I guess you found a buyer, Cliff!” He grinned, though he was clearly somewhat confused by why Rob had the rockets.
“Oh, yeah, sure.” Cliff replied mutedly.
“Manny! Hello!” Rob grinned back, more awkwardly.
“Hey! Uh. Why d’ya have those rockets, man?”
“Oh, these? It’s for the ghoul situation.”
“...Really?”
“I-It would take too long to explain.” Rob waved his hand dismissively.
“Okay, then, man, whatever you say.” Manny paused. “Say, uh…I don’t wanna bother you, man, but have you seen Boone lately?”
“...Oh, no, I…haven’t. My apologies.”
“...Man, he’s, uh…he’s been gone a few days. I thought he would’ve come back by now, but…” He trailed off again. “Do you think he felt about what happened to Jeannie?”
Cliff looked between them, a bit concerned.
“...I…” Rob hesitated before continuing. “He…did say, I mean, I did him, just briefly on the outskirts of town. He said that he…felt bad about the whole…situation.”
Manny’s face paled. “Shit, man. I knew it. I knew I should’ve talked to him. Maybe he wouldn’t have wanted to, but I should’ve tried.”
“It’s not your fault, Manny. I got a feeling he was going to leave anyway.”
“But I should’ve tried.”
“Boone made it clear he didn’t want to talk to you, and you respected that. If he had wanted to talk to you, he wouldn’t have given you the cold shoulder.”
Manny took a deep breath. “I, uh…I guess you’re right. I hope he’s okay. I mean, he’s pretty tough, I don’t think anything’s gonna get him just like that, but…I mean, I hope he doesn’t do anything stupid, y’know?”
“...Yeah. I know. I could…keep an eye out for him, if you’d like. I could try and talk him into coming back.”
“You’d do that?” Manny cracked a bit of a smile again. “Thanks, man. I mean, on top of the ghoul problem, too. I knew you were a good guy.”
Cliff looked back at Rob, looking a bit puzzled.
“Aw, thank you, Manny. I’m getting right back on that.”
“Thanks again, man.” Manny nodded and turned back to the stairs. “I’ve gotta get back to my shift. Good luck.”
“You too, Manny!” Rob headed to the door and waved before Manny headed back up.
Boone was waiting just outside town, by the road behind the motel leading north. He stood up from where he was leaning against an old shack, smoking, when he saw Rob.
“So?”
“We have the igniting agent.” Rob pat his bag. “Now, do you know of any junkyards around here?”
Boone pointed north, down the road to what appeared to be a scrapyard in the distance. “Over there’s Gibson’s Junkyard. If the…parts got taken from the test site, it would probably be there.”
“Alright, let’s see about that, then.” Rob headed down the road, following Boone to the Junkyard. “Tell me, what do you even think about Manny? As a person? If you don’t hate him?”
“...He was a good spotter.”
“He was also your friend.”
“You don’t seem like the kind of person to care about friends.”
“Well, are you?”
Boone scowled. “Fine. If you had to choose your wife or your best friend, who would you choose?” Rob was cut off before he could speak. “You know what, nevermind. Don’t answer that. We’re not talking about this anymore.”
Rob swore under his breath, but didn’t say anything else.
As they approached the junkyard, Rob noticed another, much larger building looming in the distance, with a tall tower, or spire, or something behind it. He wasn’t quite sure what it was. The junkyard itself was next to a low building, where an old woman was sitting on the missing “O” from the REPCONN sign outside the test site, having repurposed it as a chair. She was surrounded by a pack of five dogs, three of which swarmed Boone and Rob as they approached, trying to jump on them and lick their faces. Rob pushed them away, stopping them from licking him, while Boone was a little more willing to give them pets.
The old woman whistled sharply. “C’mon over here, you rascals! Leave those poor folk alone!”
The dogs immediately responded to her and ran over, licking her hands.
She smiled as they headed over to her. “Sorry about all that. I’m Old Lady Gibson, or so they call me. I run this scrapyard. You boys need anything?”
“I do, actually. Do you have any thrust control modules here?” Rob questioned curtly.
“As it so happens, I do have some thrust modules, but they're expensive. 500 caps worth of expensive.”
“As if anyone else is going to be coming by to buy parts this specialized. 250 caps or you don’t sell this junk to anyone.”
She paused. “Hm…you could be a little nicer about it, young man. But…It's not like anyone's ever wanted to buy them before. 250 caps it is.”
“Thank you. A moment, please.” Rob kneeled down to grab five of his 50 cap pouches from his bag and handed them over.
Gibson took them and slowly stood up from her chair. “Thank you kindly. Alright, let me go see where it is.”
Rob waited for Gibson to walk to the garage door, slowly open it, and walk inside, impatiently tapping his foot throughout.
“So, you boys seen Helios One out there? The big building out there to the north of here. Hear that the Brotherhood of Steel controlled it first, before the NCR took it from them. Ain’t nobody’s heard from the Brotherhood since they got driven out. Wonder what happened to them.” Gibson called from the garage.
“Wow, interesting.” Rob drawled sarcastically,“Have you found the parts yet?”
“Well, now, just be patient. It’s been a while since I last dug ‘em out, and it can get a little disorganized in here.”
Rob wasn’t listening to her excuse, as he had been distracted by some odd whirring noises from ED-E. He rapped the robot on the side.
“ED-E? Are you okay?”
After a moment, ED-E started playing static from the speakers on the front of his body. The static gave way to quieter white noise as ED-E began to play a recording of a young man’s voice.
“Subject E: Diagnosis complete. Begin recording.”
“What the hell is that?” Boone asked in a low voice.
“How should I know?!” Rob replied at a similar volume.
ED-E, or rather, his recording, continued. “My name is Whitley. I’m a researcher at Adams Air Force base. Until recently I was in charge of the Duraframe reinforcement project for the combat model Eyebots.” ED-E paused and beeped in intervals.
“” Rob said as soon as ED-E beeped.
ED-E beeped in confirmation, and continued the recording. “Eyebot Duraframe Subject E is both the prototype, and the last functional model in this test group. I was prepared to make several significant upgrades to the machines. However, as the project was canceled and all Duraframe assets are being diverted to Hellfire Armor, I am sending this model to the Navarro outpost.”
After Rob urged him to continue again, ED-E complied. “If you are listening to this log from one of our Enclave Outposts in Chicago, give this unit whatever repairs it needs so it can continue to Navarro.” ED-E beeped twice after the recording ended.
Rob paused. “Is that all?”
ED-E beeped.
“Do you know what that was?”
ED-E paused, then beeped again.
“He says Whitley sounds familiar, and he knows he’s a nice man, but he doesn’t quite remember.”
“You understood that?” Boone questioned incredulously as Old Lady Gibson left the garage with something wrapped in cloth.
“Well, that’s the gist.”
“Here we are!” Gibson looked around. “I coulda sworn I heard another man out here.”
“Just a recording.”
“Of who?”
“Of Mr. None of your business, that’s who.” Rob snatched the cloth and looked inside. It was the Modules, all right. There wasn’t any room in his backpack for it, so he handed it to Boone.
“Yeesh, alright. Just askin’.” Gibson sat back down on her chair, “Well, if that’s all you needed.”
“Mmhm. Goodbye.” Rob waved dismissively and headed back down the road, Boone and ED-E following briskly.
As they walked, Boone continued, “So, about that recording, I’ve heard of the Enclave, but…”
“Only from old people? I’m not surprised.” Rob paused. “The most recent news I’ve heard was...about a year ago, from another traveler from the east coast. I asked them how things were faring, and she told me that apparently, four years ago now, something went down in D.C. involving the Enclave and some group of scientists looking to purify some water. Didn’t end well for the Enclave.”
“Hm. Weird. So this...robot was made…when?”
“I don’t know everything, Boone.” Rob snapped. “Could’ve been made 10 years ago, or maybe 30. The Enclave aren’t active, but they exist.”
“Are you angry because you don’t know everything?”
“Shut up, Boone.”

“I have the igniting agent.”
Chris took the rocket figurine and looked at the liquid inside, visible through the window on the side. “That’s Isotope-239, alright. Enough of it, too. I assume your friend’s carrying the Thrust Control Modules?”
“Yep. Boone, give him the Modules.”
Boone handed Chris the cloth that enveloped the Thrust Control Modules. Chris unwrapped the cloth a bit. “They seem to be in excellent condition,” Chris wrapped it again and looked up.
“And the rockets are all ready?”
“Yes. I'll tell Jason that the Great Journey can begin.” Though Chris had calmed down, he was still noticeably upset.
Jason entered the room, dressed in a tacky-looking red spacesuit with the helmet under his arm, “Chris, Rob, have you found the parts we need?”
“We have.”
Chris handed the Modules to Jason, and Roberto gave him the five rockets. Jason took the parts and nodded gratefully.
“I cannot thank you enough, Rob, nor you, Chris. Would you mind guiding us from the intercom, as usual?”
“...Of course not, Jason.”
“Very well.” Jason turned to Rob. “The other preparations are already complete. This will not take long. If you’d like, you can do the honors of launching the rockets. The control panel for the launch site is in our lab.”
“First door to left. You can’t miss it.” Chris added dejectedly.
Jason glanced at Chris, looking as though he was going to say something as he opened his mouth, before closing it again. “We are truly grateful for your expertise, Chris.”
“...I know, Jason.”
Rob and Boone had their meager lunch of canned food in the control room while Chris directed the ghouls over the intercom. Jason was right - only about an hour after they began, they were already finished with the repairs and refueling. Chris looked at Rob.
“Are you ready?”
“As ready as ever, I suppose.”
“...Okay.” Chris pushed the button on the intercom. “The rockets are ready, Jason. The Great Journey can begin. Good luck, I guess.”
Rob spotted the ghouls congregated in their little space suits on the launch pad as he passed by Chris. They all turned to Jason as he began giving a speech.
“Gather, all. May the creator guide my words and help me speak true. The almighty creator has seen fit to answer our prayers. The time has come for us to board the rockets and begin the Great Journey.”
Rob didn’t hear the rest of the speech as he continued up to the lab.
The room Jason and Chris had directed them to was a small rectangular observatory with wide windows facing southwest. Offering a full view of the dome covering the launch pad, nestled in the mountain. Right of the window, against the wall, was the control panel. Rob approached it, looking between it and the launch pad.
“What’s wrong?” Boone looked back at Rob after having looked out the window.
“...Nothing. I’m going to check the navigation data.” Rob input the command to do so, and looked at the graph reading on the left. “...Hm.”
“...So?”
“...I can bring them a little closer to their destination.” Rob modified the navigation data and entered it before standing up. “It’s stupid idea, and I doubt it’s going to work even with the modifications, but…” He turned back to the window. “It’s not as if staying on the shithole we call Earth is much better. I suppose anything’s worth a try, considering that.”
“...I guess so.”
They watched quietly as the dome slowly opened, and some hidden speakers inside the control room began playing a grand tune - Rob recognized it as Ride of The Valkyries. The dome opened completely after a minute, revealing the three rockets on the launch pad, pointing at the sky. The ends of the rockets flared to life and blasted the first two clear into the sky. The third, seemingly having a problem with its launching mechanism, spun out a bit as it launched before shooting back up. As quickly as they had launched, they were gone, leaving only smoke trails behind, hanging in the air, lit by the orange light of the setting sun. The music in the control room shut off, and Rob and Boone stared at them for a long while before they dissipated. Rob got the feeling they both wished, deep down, that they were in those rockets.

“Say, Arcade, what do you know about that fancy casino across from the Tops? The ‘Ultra-Luxe’?”
“Just that it’s where people go to feel like they’re rich and important, I guess. Why?” Arcade returned from the bathroom, having cleaned his glasses.
“I just find it interesting, is all. What have you heard about it?”
“Not much. Just that it’s…creepy.”
“Creepy? Why?”
“That’s all I’ve heard.” Arcade shrugged. “I think I heard that man in the Tops…er, Swank say that. I would have thought he was just discouraging a customer from frequenting other casinos, but he was telling a fellow employee, which makes me think he’s genuine.”
“Hm. Interesting. Have you ever thought about checking it out?”
“...Uh. No.”
“Why not?” Guy stood up as he pulled his suit jacket on. He omitted his tie, as he wasn’t quite in the mood for being so buttoned-up.
“Because, believe it or not, when most people hear that a place is creepy, they avoid that place.”
“Have you no sense of curiosity, Dr. Gannon?”
“No, but I do have a sense of self-preservation.”
That got a chuckle out of Guy as he headed for the door out of their room. “You can always stay if you’d like, Arcade.”
Arcade sighed deeply as he grabbed his lab coat. “No, no, I’ll go. I don’t want you dying in there or something while I’m gone. I can’t say I’m too helpful in a survival situation, though.”
“Of course you are. You’re a doctor, aren’t you?” Guy smiled and pat Arcade on the back as he joined him at the door.
“I guess so. I mean, I am a doctor, but-”
“I know what you mean, doc. Anyway, shall we?”
They grabbed a quick breakfast at the diner and left to the Ultra-Luxe as soon as possible.
It did seem to be trying to be classy, with numerous bright lights, a cursive sign, a fountain, and stairs lit with white lights. Guy decided to ask around about it before going in. Maybe he did feel as apprehensive as Arcade.
Sitting out the NCR’s monorail station was a rather stressed-looking old man sitting on a bench, with a black cowboy hat, thin, square glasses, a thin mustache, and gray, almost white hair. He was speaking in a low voice to the old woman sitting next to him. She looked much less stressed and more placid than the man Guy assumed was her husband, who looked up when he saw Guy approaching.
“Howdy, son! How can I help you? But make it quick. Goddamn heat's worse in this town than in the middle of a Brahmin herd at noon.”
Guy raised a brow. “I’m not too sure it’s just the heat getting to you, sir. What’s wrong?”
“Sharp eyes on you, all right. We've gone through a heap of trouble to get in town. Ethel says I just need to wet my throat.” He scoffed. “A drink? Nonsense. All I need right now is to settle a score. We didn't come a long ways just to stroll our best clothes around.”
He was speaking rather frantically. Guy figured he’d hear the old man out, if just to calm him down.
“What was that about a score?”
The old man looked around before leaning forward, meeting Guy’s eyes. “There's a long list of grievances that Heck Gunderson's got to answer for, kid. I'm here to make sure that ‘rancher’ stops stealing our lands. If he ain't chiseling behind your back, he just sends his men, ready for a fight. Then you either ‘sell’ your ranch for a penny or you're dead. I'm tired of being trampled over, kid, and I got a good mind to stop Heck once and for all.”
“I…see. And who exactly is Heck Gunderson?”
“What more you want? He's a slithering snake, what he is. One of the biggest landowners this side of the Colorado and it's all stolen, I tell you. All that money buys him any NCR senators he wants - scoundrels, like Heck. There's just no way for us small folks to get by, much less prosper, kid.”
“And who are you, sir?”
“Walter Phebus is the name, kid. This here is my wife, Ethel.”
The old woman smiled placidly and held up a hand in a polite greeting.
“It’s nice to meet you, Mr. Phebus. I’m Guy de Devaul, I assume you’re here because Heck is. I could speak to him, if you’d like.”
Walter didn’t look too happy with that suggestion. “I doubt you’d get very far with that, kid. I have no illusions that he'll ever stop his plundering. So I'm just going to make him suffer, that's what I'm going to do. Here, in town, he's got few of his armed men to protect him. I just got to find out what's he up to and then I'll know where to hit him hard.”
“Mr. Phebus, I’m willing to offer help, but I’m only going to help in my own way.” Guy replied politely, but firmly.
Walter sighed, but shrugged acceptingly. “That’s better than no help, kid. Tell you what, that chiseler's blowing hot air at that over there fancy casino - The Ultra-Luxe. Find out what's his story here, will you?”
“I can do that. Do you know anything about the casino?”
“Just that it’s the place for high-falutin’ types. Or anyone who likes to pretend they are.”
“I see. Well, I’ll get to speaking to Heck and let you know what I find out.”
They stepped away from Phebus and headed over to the Ultra-Luxe.
“So…what do you make of this business, Arcade?”
Arcade paused to think before replying. “I have heard of Ted. I’ve been thinking about it. On one hand, he’s made Brahmin steak much more affordable for those who couldn’t possibly afford it before he started his business, and on the other, his practices are putting smaller ranchers who need the money out of business.”
“Hm. That’s life, isn’t it? One step forward, two steps back.”
“I guess so.” Arcade sighed. “I just wish there wasn’t always such a trade-off for making things easier for the less fortunate.”
“...Well, we can try, can’t we?”
“I guess. I guess at some point you just get tired of trying.” Arcade stopped before they entered the Ultra-Luxe.
Guy stopped as he reached for the door handle. “...Are you okay?”
Arcade blinked. “Hm? Oh, yeah, I’m fine. Sorry.”
“It’s okay.” Guy let go of the door handle. “...We can always take a break.”
“It’s fine. I don’t want to slow you down or anything.”
“...Okay.” Guy smiled reassuringly and held the door open for Arcade and Chico.
The Ultra-Luxe was so clean and upscale-looking that for a second, Guy thought he was looking at an old photo of a pre-war casino. The casino was much quieter than the Strip outside, with delicate classical music playing over the speakers above, and in the middle of the casino, with the bar built around it, was a grand, blue sculpture, somewhat resembling a water spout. Circling the bar, around the rest of the lobby and casino, were the tables for Blackjack and Poker. Before Guy could get very far, he was stopped by a man in a dapper, clean suit, with an unnerving mask reminiscent of a porcelain doll. Arcade jumped a little when he saw the mask, himself.
“Beg your pardon, but could I trouble you to turn over your weapons?” He questioned in a polite, if stiff manner.
Chico growled, glaring at the man’s mask and making him step back a little.
“Chico, bad boy. Quiet.” Guy chided him curtly before turning to the man and smiling politely as he handed over his pistol, having left his other weapons at his room in Vault 21. He kept his combat knife, hidden in its sheath under his suit jacket.
The man turned to Arcade. He shrugged. “Sorry, I’m a Follower. Weapons aren’t our thing.”
Guy knew Arcade still had his Plasma Defender under his coat, but he figured he knew what he was doing.
“Very well.” The man turned to Guy and bowed his head slightly. “My deepest apologies for the slightest inconvenience. You have my assurance that everything will be returned upon your departure. But we simply can’t have everyone waving their weapons around in the hotel. It’s not the atmosphere we wish to cultivate.”
“Completely understandable, sir. Do you happen to know where a Mr. Heck Gunderson might be?”
“Of course, sir, he’s down by the bar.” The man gestured to an old man with a thick, gray beard and a broad, black cowboy hat sitting at the bar with an empty bottle of whisky, looking distraught.
“Thank you.”
“You are very welcome. Enjoy your stay.” The man bowed lightly and walked away.
They continued towards the bar as Arcade leaned towards Guy, whispering, “This place makes my skin crawl.”
Guy whispered back, “Is that why you kept your weapons?”
“I wouldn’t do that if I didn’t feel really bad about this place. Plus, no one expects a Follower to carry weapons when they don’t have to.”
“Good point.”
Heck was much less dressed up than everyone else in the Casino. As was the rough-looking man with him, holding a rifle, who Guy assumed was his bodyguard. When Heck noticed Guy, he stood up and actually spoke to him first.
"Beg your pardon, stranger, but I'm looking for someone. You ain't seen a young man with dark brown hair and a white hat on lately, have you?”
“Sorry, sir, I haven’t.”
Heck groaned and put a hand on his head. “Ain't nobody got one darned piece of news about my boy? Not one lousy speck of information?” He sighed deeply, lowering his hand to the counter, balled up in a fist. “Ain't got one Brahmin unaccounted for across a dozen ranches, but I'm here for an hour and my own son just up and disappears on me.”
“You lost your son?”
“My boy, Ted. He was right here. I didn't leave him but a minute. I told him to stay put while I talked some things over with the White Glove folks. He never was one to stay tied down to a spot, though.” Heck shook his head. “Gets that from his mother. Got most of my staff out looking for him now. I'd be out myself, but I keep hoping he'll show up back here,” Heck snorted in a sort of sad laugh, “Course if he does that I'll whup him till his skinny hide turns to leather for putting me through this. But that don't mean I wouldn't be grateful.”
“I’m sorry, I’m not from around here, who are the White Gloves?”
“It’s alright, son.” Heck paused to think about it. “The White Glove Society...well, they’re the folk that run this place. They're the ones dressed all fancy with their bowties and shiny dresses. Some of 'em got masks, too. Real hard to trust folks like that. Couple of them show their faces and that's who I do my business with. I don’t talk to none of the other ones.”
Guy couldn’t help but agree. Those masks made him uneasy.
“What business were you doing with them, if you don’t mind me asking?”
Heck frowned further. “That’s between me and the White Glove Society. But let's just say they control the food supply around here, and I got lots of food to give, but that ain't as welcome as you might think.”
“Alright.” Guy paused. “I could help you find your son, if you’d like.”
Heck looked a little more relieved when he heard Guy, smiling just a bit. “I'd be more than happy to have you. Heck, I'll hire anybody with a pair of legs and at least one good eye at this point. There'd be a lot of money in it for you if you can get him back to me safe. And if he ain't, you can bet I'll pay for the names of the sons of bitches responsible.”
“It’d be my pleasure, sir. I’ll get him back safe, I promise.”
“Thank you.” He paused. “I never got your name.”
“Guy De Devaul.”
Heck looked like he was about to say something, but stopped himself, “I was about to say that’s a right odd name, but I don’t feel right saying that to the only man who’s stopped and asked about my son since he up and disappeared. I’m Heck. Heck Gunderson.”
Guy smiled. “Oh, I know it’s odd, Mr. Gunderson. No offense taken. Anyways, I better get to work.”
“Thank you, Guy.” Heck looked back at his shot glass as they walked away, muttering to himself, “Where in the sam hell did you run off to, boy?”
Guy started back towards the entrance. “Arcade, would you mind sticking here and watching Chico?”
“Are you going to tell Walter about this?” Arcade questioned in reply.
“Yeah.”
“Why?”
“Maybe he’ll change his mind about Heck.”
Arcade sighed, looking quite skeptical. “I doubt it. But I won’t stop you from trying. Just…don’t leave me here alone too long.”
Guy smiled. “Don’t worry, I’ll be back to protect you, big man.”
Arcade scoffed. “You’re just as unnerved by this place as I am, and you know it. Just, uh, try to hurry up.”
“I will.”

“Howdy, kid! You got news already?” Walter looked hopeful about Guy’s news.
“I do. Heck’s son has gone missing, and I’ve agreed to help him.”
Walter’s face lit up, though his wife, next to him, looked less than pleased with the development.
“I'll be damned! You mean the young Gunderson? That's a shave tail if I ever saw one - he's got less sense than a Brahmin at a crossroads. I'd not be one to complain if he got lost for good, kid…” He leaned forward. “If it makes Heck suffer then I'm all for it.”
“...Walter, I’m sorry, but I can’t help you any further. Heck may not be a good man, but he doesn’t deserve to have something awful happen to his son. This attitude is only going to lead to more innocent deaths, because of your vendetta.”
Walter sighed, looked at the ground, then back at Guy. “Kid, look around you, there's poison and death everywhere, and people like Heck are responsible for the misery we suffer. What right do they have to continue with their mischief and killing, huh?”
“Just as much right as you have, Mr. Phebus. People like Heck behave the way they do ‘cause they claim everyone else is just like them. When you act like this, you’re giving him that excuse for free.”
Walter furrowed his brow, leaning forward on his knee again. “Hell, a good thrashing is what I want to give them…” He nodded. “...but I see your point, kid. Things will never change without us good folks.” He sat up. “All right, I'm going to get Ethel far away from this damned city and head back home. There's a worthy life waiting for us there. Thanks for your help, kid. So long.”
“So long, Mr. Phebus, and good luck with your business back home.”
“Good luck with that missing greenhorn.” Walter stood up and turned to Ethel. “Come on, darling, we’re going home.”
“About time, Walt.” His wife smiled and took his hand affectionately as they headed to the gate past the Ultra-Luxe, to Vault 21, where they were presumably staying.
Guy was just happy it ended well. He hoped that whatever was going on with Ted wrapped up alright, too.

Guy entered the Ultra-Luxe to find Arcade waiting nervously near the front door, Chico at his side. The greeter approached Guy again, then paused before he could speak.
“Oh, yes, we still have your weapons, sir. My apologies. And…I must ask that you have your animal wait outside.”
Guy looked at Chico, then back at the greeter. “Are…you sure? I’m sorry about his behavior before, but he’s normally very well-trained.”
“I am, sir. Once again, I offer my deepest apologies, but I have been informed that it would be preferable for the sake of the other guests, and the cleanliness of our establishment.”
“I…see.” Guy turned to Chico. “Chico, here, boy.”
Chico approached as Guy opened the front door and led him just outside. He kneeled down and patted the ground next to the door. “Here. You have to stay, boy.”
Chico whined.
“I’m sorry, boy, but that’s how it’s gotta be.”
Chico laid down and placed his head on his paws, looking up at Guy sadly as he stood up.
“Come on, now, you know not to beg. I’ll grab you a steak when we’re done, okay?”
Chico wagged his tail at the mention of steak.
“Good boy.”
Guy stepped back inside to find that Arcade looked tenser than ever.
“...Is Chico okay?”
“He’s fine. I hope.” Guy sighed. “Okay, where would we start?”
“Apparently the receptionist is down the hall there, past the cashier cage. I figure he might know something.” Arcade pointed to two halls around the right side of the lobby.
“Alright. Let’s see what he knows.”
Past the hall with the cashier, they found a large lobby, with separate areas to the left and right of the reception desk, with doors on each wall, presumably leading to the different sections of the casino. Behind the reception desk, lit by a glowing sign of the Casino’s logo, was another well-dressed, very pale man, though he wore a top hat, and no mask, revealing a thin mustache. He was arranging some decorative statuettes on the bookshelf behind and turned when he heard Guy and Arcade approaching, smiling politely as he turned to face them.
“How may I be of service, sir?”
“Hello. I was wondering if you’d seen Heck Gunderson’s boy, Mr…?”
“Oh, my apologies.” The man bowed lightly. “Mortimer, sir. And no, I’m afraid I haven’t,” Mortimer shook his head. “I do hope he’s just run off somewhere.”
“Yeah, wouldn’t be great for business if someone went missing here.” Arcade commented.
Mortimer looked past Guy and smiled. “Oh, such a strong jaw...and upright posture.”
Arcade looked deeply unsettled. “...Heck Gunderson’s kid has...good posture?”
“Hm? Oh! Yes, I do remember that about him. And yes, it would be quite terrible if a person were to go missing here, for everyone involved.”
Arcade backed away a little. “Mm-hm.”
Guy was a bit unnerved himself, but continued normally. “Well, would anyone else have seen him?”
“I don’t think so, but you could always check in with Marjorie.”
“And where is she?”
“She’s in the Gourmand. To the left, door on your left. Good luck with your search, sir.”
“Just call me Guy, Mortimer.”
“Guy, then. Best of luck.”
They headed away quickly to the door Mortimer had directed them to. Arcade shivered.
“Ugh, that guy made my skin crawl. Was he talking about me?”
“Well, you do have a strong jaw.”
“Guy.”
“Okay, Okay,” Guy thought for a minute, then continued hopefully, “Maybe he’s just bad at...flirting?”
“You’ve seen flirting and I’ve seen flirting. I think we can both agree that’s not what that was.”
“Well, I’m sure he didn’t mean to come off as creepy.”
“You can believe that, but I’m not talking to him.”
“Understandable.”
They looked around the room they had entered. It was small with a tall ceiling, as a set of blue curtains cut off the Gourmand from the receptionist’s desk, against the right wall. The woman behind the desk was a middle-aged woman with black, curly hair in a short bob and a single-sleeved, pale pink gown. She was the only worker Guy had met in the casino thus far that hadn’t immediately creeped him out, though she still regarded them with an air of haughtiness.
“Welcome to the Ultra-Luxe. I do hope it exceeds your every expectation.”
“It certainly has, miss.”
Marjorie smiled, “Why thank you, sir.”
“You’re very welcome. If I may introduce myself?”
“Certainly.”
“Guy De Devaul. I believe you’re Marjorie?”
“I am.”
“Well, miss Marjorie, I’m looking for someone who recently went missing here.”
Marjorie’s smile faded as she sighed irritably. “This again? I thought all this was settled. I answered every one of that investigator's questions to his satisfaction and gave all the help I could. I know our reputation hasn't always been spotless, but that's all in the past now. How some people can't get over it is beyond me. For the last time, the White Glove Society has never and will never consume human flesh for any reason. It's written in the charter.” She crossed her arms indignantly as she concluded.
Guy was so taken back the words slipped out of his mouth. “The White Glove Society used to eat human flesh?”
Marjorie scowled. “Now didn't I already tell you that we don't do that sort of thing? We do not engage in cannibalism here under any circumstances. Though we haven't always been the White Glove Society.” Her voice was tinged with guilt. “There was another time, a dark time, when we went by a different name.” Her voice lit up again. “But that's all changed now! We've...evolved past such base impulses since settling into our new home. I've seen to it that those days are behind us.”
“Oh, god…” Arcade mumbled under his breath, sounding more stressed out even than before.
Guy gave Arcade’s arm a hard nudge. “Sorry, miss. I should’ve realized that was a sensitive question.”
“...Thank you, Mr. Devaul.”
“Anyways, if you don’t mind me asking, who did you talk to about this...disappearance?"
“There was an investigator who came through here last week. He'd been hired by a young man whose bride-to-be went missing during their stay here. Well, you can already guess what probably happened, can't you? It seems perfectly likely that she got cold feet and ran off. And that young groom just didn't have a clue, the poor dear.” She clicked her tongue disapprovingly and shook her head.
“Well, I’m looking for someone else who recently disappeared. A man.”
Marjorie became noticeably distressed. “A man? Well then, this...well this can't be. Two disappearances in my hotel? What will people say?” She closed her eyes, took a breath, and straightened up before opening them again. “I'm going to have a word with my staff about security on the premises. Whether these people are found or not, our guests simply must feel safe in their own rooms.”
“Of course. Now, I need some help with my search, so is there any way I can talk to the investigator?”
“Why yes, I think so. If he hasn't checked out yet, that is. I had our maitre d', Mortimer, offer him a complimentary room for as long as it took for him to be satisfied. You see? The White Glove Society remains the very picture of courtesy, even in the face of such impolite accusations. We have nothing to hide here.” She crossed her arms defensively again.
“Thank you, Marjorie. I’ll go speak to him now.”
“You’re welcome, Mr. Devaul.”
They opened the door to the lobby as Arcade groaned.
“Guy, I really don’t want to talk to him.”
“You don’t have to. I’ll take care of it, okay? You can…stand a little further away.”
“...Alright. Thanks, and er, be careful, or…I dunno.” Arcade shrugged and stepped away awkwardly as Guy headed over to Mortimer.
“Ah, you're back. You're always a welcome guest here,” He looked over Guy’s shoulder, “What’s your companion doing over there?”
“He’s not much of a people person, I’m afraid.”
“...Very well.”
“So, Marjorie said you gave a private room to an investigator.”
Mortimer paused. “Private investigator...Ah, yes. I remember the gentleman. This was about the missing bride. Such an awful thing. I do hope he finds her whereabouts. If I might pry, have you found something that will help his investigation?”
“I’m on an investigation as well. I’m hoping we can help each other.”
“You are? Nothing so grim as his investigation, I hope,” Mortimer thought about this a minute before continuing, “Ordinarily, we don't give out guest information, but I think given the circumstances, he'll want to speak with you. Let's see…” He retrieved some papers from under the desk and shuffled through them before stopping on a certain page. “He hasn't checked out yet. If you head back to the hotel rooms, his will be the first on the right. You can reach our hotel rooms by going over there to the right, through the door on your left. I hope we can put this whole matter to rest at last.”
Mortimer gave Guy the key, and they headed over to the right past some curtains, to the doors to the left.
“Don’t you think it’s a bit suspicious?” Arcade asked as they walked.
“What?”
“I said that it would be bad for business if anyone went missing here and he didn’t say anything the first time.”
“He might just be trying to save face for the casino.”
“What unnerves me is that he completely ignored the statement.”
“My point stands. I don’t want to assume anything just yet.”
They entered the hotel and went up a flight of stairs immediately in front of the door up to the second floor.Guy opened the door to the room on the right and recoiled.
The room was completely upturned except for the bed opposite the door. In front of the bed lay a broken lamp and a dead man in a white suit and glasses, blood seeping into the carpet around him. Guy walked inside and looked around after recovering from the obvious shock of seeing a dead body in so nice of a room. After further inspection, his body was heavily bruised and bloodied, as if he had been beaten to death with a blunt object. Arcade flinched upon seeing the room as well.
“Well.” Arcade paused to take a breath. “Looks like we’re a little too late.”
Guy kneeled next to the body, seeing that something was clutched in his hand. Guy pried it open to find it was a matchbook with a tiny message scrawled inside: “Steam Room. 4PM.”
He had found his first clue.
“Oh, hello?”
Guy looked up upon hearing Arcade speak and noticed two White Gloves had arrived, dress canes in hand, one closing the door behind them.
He quickly connected the dots. Dress canes, injuries from a blunt object.
He grabbed the first White Glove’s wrist before he could hit Arcade across the head and stabbed him in the throat, just under his head. The second White Glove got a clean hit on Guy’s head and sent him down, although judging by the gurgling noises the first was making, he didn’t seem to be able to fight.
Guy grabbed the cane before it hit his face again, although the White Glove was much stronger than he thought he would be. He didn’t have to hold him off for long before Arcade fired a plasma round through the side of his head, sending him crumpling to the ground. Guy pushed the body off of him before Arcade helped him up.
“I told you I was going to need it.” He paused and sounded more concerned as he continued, “Are you okay?”
“Gah...Fine. My ears are ringing, but otherwise, I’m fine.”
Arcade looked at Guy’s head and touched where the cane had hit him, prompting a cringe from him. “Look at my finger.” He held up his index finger and moved it from side to side for a moment or two before lowering his hand again. “You don’t seem like you suffered a concussion. Well, a major one. It looks like the one I shot was the stronger of the two.”
Guy took a minute, waiting until the ringing had stopped and the pain had faded a bit.
“Fuck, what are we gonna do?”
Arcade thought for a moment, then knelt down and pried the mask off of the White Glove he’d shot, inspecting it for any burns from the plasma.
“I have an idea.”
“Disguise?”
“Yeah. Though, I don’t think my glasses will agree with that.”
“Just take them off.”
Arcade glared at Guy. “Easy for you to say. ‘Hey, Arcade, why don’t you just lose the glasses? It’s not like you need them to see 5 feet in front of yourself.’ There’s a reason they’re so thick.”
“Sorry, but I don’t see any other option in terms of disguise. Listen, I’ll help you see. I’ll just lead you with my hand on your shoulder. I’ll steer you, in a sense.”
“If you steer me into a wall, I will not be happy.”
“I know.”
They closed and locked the door and quickly changed into the White Glove outfits, stuffing their clothes into Guy’s backpack afterwards. Guy looked at his watch as they stepped outside, Arcade locking the door behind them and pocketing the key.
“One hour to 4.” He informed Arcade in a hushed voice.
“Guy.” Arcade whispered.
“What?”
“Where’s the Steam Room?”
Guy paused. “God dammit.”
“Oh my god…”
“I could ask Mo.”
“He’s going to recognize you.”
“I can disguise my voice damn well, Arcade.” He paused. “Well, good enough to trick Mortimer, I suppose.”
“I really hope so.”
Guy headed back to the reception desk and to Mortimer, clearing his throat a little bit to make his voice sound deeper and a bit raspier before he got too close. Mortimer looked up, looking a bit confused.
“What? What is it?”
“Sorry, Mortimer, I...er, well, this is a bit embarrassing…”
Mortimer sighed irritably. “I don’t have all day.”
“I...forgot where the Steam Room is.”
“You-” Mortimer sighed again, heavier this time, and pinched the bridge of his nose. “Feels like I have to explain where everything is every 5 minutes...To the left. Door on the right is to the bathouse. The Steam Room is the first door on the right. Can you remember that?”
“Oh, yeah. Heh. Sorry, Mortimer.”
“How did you forget that?” Mortimer paused, then lowered his voice. “Are you tired or something?...Were you sleeping on the job?!” He whispered harshly.
Guy blinked. “I...maybe.”
“Napping on the job?! If any of our customers saw that, what would they think?”
Guy realized it wasn’t a rhetorical question after a moment’s silence. “That...we’re not a good establish…”
“That we aren’t a respectable establishment! We can’t have our customers thinking we let our workers laze around. Now get to the Bath House!” He whispered harshly before turning to a customer who had approached him in the meantime.
Guy nodded and quickly walked back to Arcade.
“So?”
“In the bathhouse, over to the left. Let’s go.”
Guy continued steering Arcade to the bathouse, partially distracted by the hushed whispers of the guests. Before they entered the bathhouse, a group of White Gloves passed by them on their way to the Hotel.
The guests were tense even in the bathhouse, obscured by the dense steam.
“Was something happening in the suites? All of my caps are in there.” One woman pressed a White Glove who seemingly entered for the purpose of reassuring her and the other guests listening.
“There have been a few complications with the plumbing in one of the rooms. It will be resolved quite soon, and I assure you, miss, it is nothing to worry about.”
“Nothin’ to worry about?” Another, younger man interjected. “I heard an energy weapon go off! I’d recognize that anywhere!”
“Guy, we need to hurry, and I can barely see with how fucking…steamy everything is in here.” Arcade whispered harshly. “If you let me bump into a wall, I will hate you forever.”
“A lot at stake, then.” Guy grabbed Arcade’s shoulder as subtle as he could and led him forwards, stopping when he accidentally ran him into the wall next to the door leading to the sauna. The White Glove looked up.
“Are we alright over there?”
“It’s alright, he’s a mite tired, we were sent to see if the water mains are still working here.” Guy called back, and whispered as he led Arcade through the door. “I thought you said you could see three feet in front of you.”
“Not enough time to react to a wall coming at your face, especially when I have to whisper, and when you’re pushing me.”
“Sorry, then.”
“Too late, I hate you forever now.”
“No you don’t.”
“I really do.”
The sauna was a large, circular room with a grated metal floor and benches, with shockingly clean tile walls. Guy looked at his watch again.
“We still have 45 minutes.”
“...Crap. What do we do?”
“Let’s check if whoever wrote the note is here early?”
“Best bet, I guess.”
They walked into the door opposite the one they had entered, and found a long, personal steam room with a long wooden bench along the wall. An black man with a shaved head, a black suit, and an uptight, anxious face was sitting at the end. He jumped when they walked in and sat near him
“Oh, goodness! I mean, uh, I didn’t write that on the matchbook. Wait! I mean-”
Guy took off the mask. “Don’t worry, and don’t ask where we got the outfits from. Who are you?”
“You don’t know me?” The man sighed in relief. “Good. That’s good. So they definitely didn’t send you after me, then. I’m Chauncey. Where’s the gentleman I’m supposed to meet?”
“He’s...he’s dead.”
Chauncy recoiled, putting a hand over his face. “Oh my goodness me! They must know he was talking to someone on the inside.” Chauncey’s face grew more anxious. “They’ll be watching everyone closer now. I knew this was a mistake.”
“Chauncey, who are you afraid of?”
He paused, as if trying to decide whether telling Guy was a good or bad idea. “Mortimer. If he realizes it was me the investigator was planning to meet, he’ll have me killed.”
“Is he behind the disappearances?”
“...Yes. The White Glove Society strictly forbids eating humans. But we weren’t always the White Glove Society. Mortimer and some of the others have...regressed...to the old ways. They've taken many people over the last few months. But always from Freeside or secluded places where they wouldn't be missed. It wasn't enough. Lately they've gone for tourists here on the Strip. Even in the hotel. I guess that's the hazard of a cannibal becoming a gourmet - it's hard to please a refined palate.”
“What were you supposed to discuss here?”
“The girl. The one who disappeared. I know what happened to her.”
“How do you know what happened to her?” Guy spoke gently. The man already seemed on edge, and grew more antsy at the mention of the girl.
“Because I distracted her fiance while they took her.” He paused, suddenly becoming more defensive. “Well, I'm not proud of it! But I had to. They could see I was having second thoughts. Some of the White Gloves began meeting privately a while back. Started talking about how we'd lost our identity. I started attending because I thought it was about changing our politics. Then they started talking about returning to the old ways, and there was no way out. They'd kill me for the things I'd heard them say.”
“Have you heard them talk about a Ted Gunderson?”
Chauncey nodded. “He's alive, as far as I know. They're trying to keep him fresh. Mortimer has special plans for him. The White Glove Society has a banquet every night at 7. It's in our private section. Mortimer wants to reintroduce humans into our cuisine. Since eating people is a crime we punish by death, he's going to do it in secret. After everyone has eaten it he'll tell them. With Marjorie left no real way to punish everyone, in Mortimer's mind, anyway, their minds will be open to the idea of eating people as a delicacy.
“Where are they keeping him?”
“I don't know exactly. I wasn't in on it. I think some of them have stopped trusting me. But you can bet they're keeping him near the Gourmand. Our chef, Philippe, has an obsession with fresh ingredients. It'd be back in the members only section, so you'll have to be careful. Don't be seen, and more importantly, don't let them see Ted in the open. It's guarded both at the lobby entrance and in the access tunnels leading from the main restaurant. You could make it back there, with your disguises. But you have to stay confident or they’ll notice in a heartbeat.”
“Do you have any suggestions as to how to get Ted out?”
“Hmm. Well, they'll all be sampling Pre-War wines before the meal. Maybe it's as simple as drugging them. Although...that wouldn't stop any future kidnappings. You'd have to expose Mortimer. But he's going to confess anyway…” Chauncey looked up, a bit more hopeful. “What if... what if his revelation was a lie? What if no one had eaten human flesh but him? If you could somehow replace Philippe in the kitchen and serve a convincing substitute instead...You could walk Ted right through the middle of that room after Mortimer speaks. And then he'd have some explaining to do. Philippe has been trying to approximate the taste of human flesh for years. He must have a recipe somewhere.”
“I see. Sounds like a plan.”
Chauncey stood up and quickly shoved past them, towards the door. “Alright, you have all the information you need. I...I need to go, or they’ll-”
He was interrupted by a rough-looking man barging through the door with a silenced pistol and planting a bullet in his head. The mercenary didn’t seem to expect Guy or Arcade to be there, giving Guy the chance he needed to stab him in the throat and pull him back into the steam room, covering his mouth with his sleeve and restraining him until he went limp.
“Oh, god, shit!” Arcade stepped back as Guy lowered the body to the ground.
“Looks like we need to be more careful.” Guy looked at his sleeve, now stained with blood. “...And Chauncy’s jacket.”
Guy grabbed Chauncy’s jacket and replaced his own, bloodied one with it before they both stepped out of the steam room and closed the door behind them, heading back to the lobby.
“Well, if Chauncy’s word wasn’t enough, now we know Mortimer’s guilty.” Arcade paused. “So, that plan of Chauncy’s sounds...incredibly risky.”
“Sure is. Let’s get over to the Gourmand.”
“You realize that if we’re caught we’re dead, right?” Arcade pressed as they continued to the Gourmand.
“Do you want to just let a poor boy get eaten by cannibals?” Guy retorted quietly.
“No, just making sure you were fully aware of that.”
“I am. Listen, Arcade, I’ve been through much worse and gotten out alive. This’ll go well if we tell ourselves it’ll go well, alright? Remember what Chauncey said. If we just stay confident and believe we’re supposed to be there as much as we want others to, we’ll be alright.”
“Chauncey’s dead.”
“It doesn’t make his advice irrelevant.”
“...Well, it sort of-You know what, you’re just gonna ignore me, so nevermind.”
“Great. Then let’s do this.”
They headed past Marjorie at the reception desk, who didn’t pay them a second glance, and through the curtains separating the desk from the Gourmand.
The Gourmand was an extensively clean and shiny restaurant, draped with gold and green rugs and curtains. At the back, in front of one of the green curtains was a neon, cursive sign reading “The Gourmand,” above the stage. There were, surprisingly, less customers at the tables than Guy expected. Nevertheless, they looked quite pleased with the food, which looked better than any Guy had ever seen outside of pre-war posters. White Glove waiters were milling about, serving food and refilling wine.
The two of them were greeted by two White Gloves.
“Are you here to take over for us? For the banquet? You know how Philippe gets when we don’t serve the food quick enough.”
“...Yes! We are,” Guy said after a second of consideration.
The man who spoke sighed in relief. “Finally. Thank you, and mind you, Philippe's a little stressed. Try to be careful with him.”
“Is he ever not stressed?”
The other man snickered, but quickly covered it up with fake coughs. “Now, you know that’s not appropriate.”
“I never said he had no good reason to be stressed, did I?”
The first man pat the second on the back, and turned back to Guy. “Alright, we’ve had our fun. You best not keep Philippe waiting.”
With that, the two White Gloves hurried past them.
Behind a bar counter along the right wall were shelves, taps, and refrigerators, along with two White Glove Bartenders, a man and a woman, and a door to the left of them. Guy guessed that was the door to the kitchens. He took a deep breath and spoke quietly to Arcade.
“I’m going to keep my hand on your back to guide you. Remember - act like we belong.”
They headed over to the door and were about to head through before the woman noticed them.
“Excuse me, but why are you going back there?”
Guy forced himself to relax. “We’re the waiters for the banquet, ma’am.”
“Oh, yes. My apologies, I forgot completely. Let me get the door for you.”
The woman reached into her pocket and took out a key, unlocking the door and letting them inside.
She closed the door behind them, leaving them in a significantly darker and more unsettling hallway than the rest of the building. They continued down the metal, dimly lit tunnel for a minute before it opened up into a larger room, wherein lay a stand where whole brahmin were hung up, and some other White Gloves were roasting them with flamethrowers. Guy nearly jumped at the sight, but managed to keep himself calm, and led Arcade further through the room. After continuing down a stairwell for a bit, they found themselves deep within the backrooms. The hallway they found themselves in was even more eerily lit with red lights that reflected off the dirty tiled floor and wall. Numerous doors lined the walls. A White Glove patrolling the hall noticed them enter and whipped around.
“You! What are you doing here?”
Guy thought quickly. If he thought he was another White Glove, like everyone else did, he must be regarding him in such a way because...he was in on the plan with Mortimer.
“Mortimer sent us to move the boy.”
“Take off the mask.”
“What?”
“Take off the mask.” The White Glove repeated. “We know everyone in on this.”
Guy took off the mask and mustered an irritable face, “He sent us because he thinks one of his own might betray him. He gave us the outfits so we could get past the others upstairs. So as to not arouse suspicion among them.”
The White Glove paused, then snorted, seemingly having bought Guy’s lie. “First he’s too trusting, now he doesn’t trust any of us. It addles the senses. I suppose caution is the desirable course at this point. It’s all of our necks if something goes afoul.”
“Listen, just point me in the direction of the kid.”
“Second to last door on the right before the right turn.”
“Right.”
Guy led Arcade along with him as subtly as he could, going through the door the White Glove directed him to.
It led into a much better lit kitchen with cleaner tiled walls, floors, and ceilings. The kitchen was stocked with everything one would need to prepare a meal, including numerous ovens, cupboards, a refrigerator, and counters with a multitude of ingredients on top of them. Inside, a bald man in a suit like the others was darting about preparing food, though he notably wasn’t wearing a mask. He noticed Guy walk up to him and sighed loudly and irritably.
“Why are you standing still? Do you think the world waits for you while you stand there drooling? Get back out there and get to work!”
“You like yelling, don’t you?” Arcade commented.
“I like-? What the fuck are you talking about?”
“Your predisposition towards anger suggests unresolved issues in your past.”
“What kind of harebrained fucking psychobabble bullshit is that? I yell at people because I like yelling at people and because they fucking deserve it. Not because Mumsy and Daddy-kins didn't hug me enough.”
“You may be projecting. Tell me about your parents.” Arcade’s tone never changed.
“Oh. I see how it is. You think because my father walked out on us when I was five, now I have to yell at people. Or because my mother was a deranged chem fiend who regularly brought strange men home who told me to call them uncle. Or because my sisters would lock me in a shipping crate when they didn't want me around...and my brother…” Philippe’s voice broke and he put a hand on his mouth, suddenly stopping. “God, I'd forgotten about that. How could they do that to me?”
“Are you alright?” Guy inquired gently.
“I...I can’t stay here. I need to be alone.”
“What about the banquet?”
Philippe grew a little more angry again. “Forget about the fucking banquet. You know what? You can do it. You be the star chef. Take my recipes,” He quickly took a small notebook from his pocket and threw it at Arcade, who barely caught it. “It won't fill the hole, though. Just remember that. You'll always feel empty.”
They waited until he had left the room before Guy turned to Arcade, “That was...impressive.”
“I’m not a people person, but I know a hell of a lot about psychology. Anger issues like that are either narcissism, a lack of control early in life, or both, I’ve noticed. Or I’m completely wrong, but, hey, it worked.”
“...I feel a little bad.”
“He has cooked people before.”
“Okay, nevermind.”
“Exactly. Now, let’s find-”
Arcade stopped when they both heard a dull banging coming from the pantry to the right. Inside the pantry, to the left, lay a sturdy, metal door with a terminal mounted on the wall next to it. The banging was coming from inside, as well as a young man’s voice.
“LET ME OUT OF HERE!”
“I’ll take a guess and say that’s Ted.” Arcade took off the mask and put his glasses back on, taking a look at the terminal afterwards. “It’s simple enough for me. Let me take a look at it, see if it’s connected to the door.”
Arcade turned on the terminal, causing it to unfold its keyboard. He typed in a few commands and quickly got through the security on it.
“Get me the fuck out of here!”
“Here we are.” Arcade entered a command and the door’s lock clicked.
Immediately the door burst open. A man in jeans, a gray polo shirt, and a straw cowboy hat stumbled out. He looked and sounded young, at the oldest, maybe 21. He attempted to throw a punch at Guy, which he quickly stopped with a firm grip on his wrist.
“Calm down. We’re here to rescue you.”
Guy let go of Ted’s wrist once he was sure he was calm. The boy stared at him and blinked, “My daddy sent you?” He grew angry again. “Goddamn it, I almost died in here! What the hell took you so long? It's just one damn hotel. Who did this to me, anyway? They hit me over the head before I got a look at 'em.”
“Some members of the White Glove Society. They were...going to eat you.”
“What in the Sam hell? Eat me? What kind of sick bastards would eat a person? I'll tell you what. Soon as I'm out of here and my daddy knows the story, you can bet there ain't gonna be no White Hat Society no more.”
“It wasn’t the entire Society. Only Mortimer and a few others are to blame.”
“To hell with that. You've seen those freaks. They dress the same, talk the same. You can bet they all eat the same, too. They deserve what my daddy's gonna have coming for them.”
“Listen, your father is a powerful man. Someone...wants him to feud with the White Glove Society. I presume Mortimer isn’t actually one of them.”
“My daddy's got a lot of enemies. It don't make no sense that the White Pants Society would kidnap me. He's here to do business with them,” Ted paused, “Well, you got a point. But if you don't know who it is, my daddy's gonna be awful mad he ain't got anyone to shoot over this.”
“Fantastic. Now, we need to get that fake recipe done.”
Ted frowned. “What? I thought we was getting outta here.”
“Not yet. Arcade, which recipe is the fake meat?”
Arcade shuffled through the recipes for a bit before stopping. “Here. ‘Sweet Veal.’ Definitely seems like it’s made to taste like human flesh.”
“The hell you talking about?”
“Ted, shut up. Guy, we should get cooking.”
“Right. Ted...stay here, and try to be quiet.”
Ted hid in the pantry, and after they closed the door, Arcade spoke again. “You lied to him?”
“I did.”
“Why’s that?”
“The rest of the White Gloves are certainly strange people, but I don’t think they deserve to all be branded cannibals.”
“Fair enough.”
They returned to the kitchen and got to work as quickly as possible, as Guy’s watch indicated it was 2 hours to 7, and they had quite a few meat pies to prepare.

Once they finally finished preparing all of the meat pies, Arcade went through the effort of plating them and garnishing them exactly as the illustration in the recipe book indicated, so as to not give away that Phillipe had not made them.
“...So, how do we let them know it’s ready?” Arcade brushed off his hands as he looked back at Guy.
Guy looked around, his attention drawn towards an intercom next to one of the doors leading out to the hallway when a voice sounded from it.
“Is the meal ready?”
Guy pushed the button on the intercom. “Philippe’s having a rest. He put a lot into this recipe. But yes, it’s ready.”
“We’ll be right over.”
Guy and Arcade headed to the pantry near the freezer where Ted was waiting.
“The hell you two doing?”
“We have a plan.” Guy said quickly as Arcade closed the pantry door.
They waited near the pantry and heard the waiters enter and take the plates.
“What did he mean, Philippes having a rest? How much physical exercise is done during cooking?”
The waiters shared a quiet laugh before one of them silenced the others. “Philippe has his ways. They’re odd ways, but they produce good food.”
“Ah, I suppose so.”
A few more waiters joined them after a moment to help them transport the numerous pies to the dining room. Once Guy heard them leave, he peeked out, making sure they were gone, before heading out, staying low to the ground, and following them out to the hallway.
Guy peeked out into the hall before continuing out and following the waiters up a set of stairs leading to a door, presumably the one that opened into the dining room. Guy carefully and silently opened the door, giving them just enough space to slip out undetected.
They found themselves behind a bar counter in a long, tall dining hall, which Guys guessed was the members-only area. He peeked from behind the counter to see a long dining table in the middle with chairs along it. Different White Glove members were seated with their masks off to eat, including Marjorie and Mortimer. They all seemed to enjoy the meal, though some commented on the odd taste. Each comment prompted a smile upon Mortimer’s face. They waited for a few minutes, when the last White Glove finished their meal. Mortimer stood up and headed up to a podium next to the bar counter. Most of the White Gloves looked confused, while some seemed a bit excited.
“I know I'm not the scheduled speaker, but I have a few words, if I may. There was a time not so long ago when we were bound together not as members but as family. As a clan. And when Mr. House came to us with his proposal, we accepted, knowing we stood to gain much. Little did we know how much we'd lose in the process. As a society, we've endeavored to sample the finest food and drink the world has to offer. But we are living a lie. There is a meat sweeter than the most corn fed livestock. Most of you have tasted it. All of you have coveted it. Among us, it is a crime to discuss a return to the old ways that unified our people. Tonight, that all changes. The taboo ends. Let me finish, Marjorie.” He added curtly as Marjorie stood up, fuming. “You don't know it yet, but you are all now guilty of a greater crime. One that ordinarily bears the harshest of punishments. Surely that you are all guilty warrants not only universal amnesty but also a renewed discussion. For our society to be truly elite, we must dine on the most delicious, the most exclusive food known to us. And tonight, for the first time as a society, you are sampling that very dish, the meat we are forbidden to taste, the way it was meant to be eaten! Fellow members of the White Glove Society, bon appe-”
“I hate to be a killjoy, Mortimer, but no one’s eating the boy you kidnapped tonight!” Guy announced loudly, standing up, Arcade and Ted following suit.
Mortimer whipped around, his face growing pale when he noticed them. “What are you- ? Why is he there? Who are we eating right now?”
“Secret recipe. It isn’t human, that’s for sure.”
Mortimer’s eyes darted about as most of the White Gloves grew restless. “No! These are lies! I never kidnapped anyone. And even if I did, there's no harm done. He's alive, after all.”
“A bit too late now, Mortimer. I never said you kidnapped anyone. Just that your meal isn’t human.”
Mortimer’s pale face turned red. “You're all hypocrites! How can you claim to be connoisseurs yet deny yourselves the greatest of all meats? I am ashamed to have once called everyone here family. This isn't over, though. I'll begin anew. The White Glove Society will never achieve the greatness of my new order. You'll all hear from me again.”
With that, Mortimer ran past them, bursting through the doors leading out, and followed by a few other members of the White Gloves. Marjorie tried to run after him, but her steps faltered at the door. Guy approached her as she turned around, her hand drawn up to her mouth.
“Oh-oh my. How unfortunate! And in front of all these people, too. He always was a bit of a pill, Mortimer. He was so pouty when I decided to ban eating people. And now this. I should've paid more attention to the warning signs.” She sighed, sounding a little less affected than Guy thought she would be. “Can you imagine what people would've said? Why, it would've been a complete scandal if it weren't for you. Thank you.”
“...You’re welcome?”
“Right, yes, oh, dear, you need to return this boy, please. Go on, go on.” She ushered them out of the dining hall to the hallway leading back to the entrance.
Guy and Arcade headed back to Heck in the Casino, who immediately noticed Ted when he entered the lobby. Ted continued faster as Heck jumped up and ran over to his son. He hugged him tight and checked him for injuries.
“Oh my god! Ted! Are you all right?”
“Quit your hollering. I’m fine,” Ted grumbled, pushing his father away. “Listen, Pa, we got to go after the White Shoes or whatever they're called. They're the ones responsible.”
Heck’s face darkened as he turned to Guy. “What’s this about the White Glove Society?”
“It was Mortimer, one of the White Gloves, and a few of his lackeys. They were the ones who took him. They were...cannibals.”
“Well that does it!” Heck stepped back from Ted, fuming. “None of them maniacs will ever do business with Heck Gunderson long as they live. Hell, I'll put me together a damn blockade. Hit 'em where it hurts. They control the food? Well there ain't gonna be no food. Not for anybody in this whole damn town. It's a goddamned monument to inhumanity. Let 'em starve. Biggest favor anyone's ever done this hellhole.”
“Heck, listen to yourself. That’s just what they’d want. You’d be driving the city to eat each other.”
Heck paused, thinking for a minute about Guy’s words before speaking again, slower and calmer, though his anger was clearly still bubbling underneath the surface. “I don't like this place. Whole Strip, really. Ever since I got here, the stink of it...it's flooded my nostrils. But you got a point. They're already hell-bent on depravity here. All I'd be doing is helping them along,” He sighed. “Alright. Well, I promised I’d make it worth your while.”
“Please sir, I don’t ask for any compensation. I’m just glad your son’s okay.”
“To hell with that. You went through hell and back to get him. Take it.” Heck held out a hefty pouch of caps.
Guy looked at the pouch, and decided it was futile refusing it. He took it gratefully. “Thank you very much, Heck. For the caps, and for keeping the food supply to this city coming, even with all of this...terrible business with your son.”
“It’s the least I can do for you, Guy.” Heck held out his hand.
Guy shook it.

“The ghouls are gone.”
Manny turned around as Rob entered the sniper’s nest in the dinosaur’s mouth. He processed what Rob had said for a moment, eyes wide, before his face broke into a grin.
“Unbelievable, man! I knew that wasn't gonna be easy. But I had a good feeling about you. You look like you been through a lot.”
Rob smiled. “Ah, trust me, you have no idea.”
Manny laughed. “‘Course I don’t, man! But seriously, thanks. It means a lot to me.”
“Heh. It was no issue, really.” Rob held out his hand. Manny took it and pulled him into a hug, which Rob was not completely averse to.
After a moment, he pat Rob’s back and stepped back. “So, uh, I guess this means you’re leaving Novac, then?”
Rob felt his heart sink a little too. “Well, yes. I’m a wanderer. I don’t stay in one place very long.”
“Oh.” Manny looked at the ground. “But, eh, you’ll visit, right? Even if you just stay a little bit.”
“Of course I’ll visit.”
“Thanks, man. It’s just...I have to stay up here all day, and no one ever really comes up to talk. Maybe Cliff sometimes, but not much. So...it’s just really nice to talk to you.”
“...You know, when I said earlier that you haven’t had your needs, I meant that I could…?”
Manny blinked, processing what Rob was implying for a moment before his face turned red and he grinned again, more nervously this time.
“Oh! Uh. Heh. I just…wanted to talk, man. I mean, I dunno…” Manny paused, then shook his head. “Y-Yeah, nevermind. Sorry, man.”
“Oh.” Rob felt a bit disappointed.
“Say, uh, man, what’s up with your voice?”
“What do you mean? My accent?”
“Yeah. It sounds, uh…” Manny stopped to think about what he was trying to say. “...fancy.”
“Hm…how do I put this.” Rob paused. “I’m from the east coast. Other side of the country. The man who raised me, and his family, they were from across the ocean over there. Somewhere…different, so they had a distinct accent. I just picked it up from them, really.”
Manny grinned. “I like it! But I know you aren’t, like, bad fancy.”
Rob wasn’t sure what that meant. “Heh. I’ll take it.”
“...So…” Manny stopped. “Did…you find Craig? I mean, Boone?”
Rob’s stomach sank a bit. “...No. Sorry.”
“Nah, nah, it’s fine. Like I said, he can, um, take care of himself.” Manny looked at the floor. “...He’ll come back. Probably.”
“...Probably.” Rob pat Manny’s shoulder reassuringly.
“Yeah.” Manny sighed heavily. “Thanks, man. Make sure you come back soon, okay?”
“I will.”
Rob headed back down the dinosaur, meeting Boone outside town, just underneath the dinosaur.
“...How’d it go?” He questioned, standing up when he saw Rob.
“Fine.” Rob paused. “He was asking about you.”
“...Sure.” Boone didn’t seem to have much to say about it. “...So. Where are we headed?”
“I was thinking Vegas. Easy to forget yourself there. So I hear.”
“Sounds good. For both of us.” Boone followed Rob as he continued north, up the highway.

Chapter Text

“I need a break.”
Guy and Arcade were sitting on the bench where Walter had once been. Chico was laying on the ground next to Arcade, his head on his paws, satisfied with the overpriced steak Guy had bought him Arcade had leaned back and virtually gone limp.
Guy smiled. “Heh, yeah, that was an ordeal, hm?”
“I feel like ‘ordeal’ is an understatement.”
“Hm. Disaster?”
“Yes.”
“Well, it worked out in the end, didn’t it?”
“I guess.” Arcade paused. “Oh god, did Mortimer want to eat me?”
“Uh.” Guy didn’t want to answer that.
“Nevermind, don’t answer that. I need to stop thinking about it, I’m going to make myself sick.” Judging from Arcade’s face, he didn’t look like he was exaggerating.
“Do you want to head back to the hotel?”
“Yes.”
“Of course. But, uh, could we check them out, first?”
Guy pointed to two people standing near The Tops, by the gate leading into that section of the Strip. One was a man with clumsily styled black hair, a white dress shirt, a tacky vest, and a rather nasally, sarcastic voice.
The other was a tall black woman with a puffy, carefully styled afro and a beautiful, but dirty and slightly torn red dance dress. She was a remarkably beautiful woman, and she was in a furious argument with the man.
“...They’re uh, certainly…interesting.” Arcade raised his head to look at them.
They got up from the bench after a moment and headed over to the pair. Most of the Strip tourists were actively avoiding them, though a couple of the drunk NCR troopers almost fell over themselves staring at the woman.
Once they noticed Guy and Arcade approaching, the woman whipped around to face them.
“You two!”
Guy jumped. “Er, yes?”
“We need your opinion.”
“Ah, we all know they’re just gonna vote for you ‘cause they wanna fuck ya. That’s how you get customers,” The man chipped in.
“Shut your mouth, you little prick!” She snapped.
Guy flinched. “Heh, well, I’m not interested in women, if you’re wondering, and neither is he.”
“See? They’re ‘bachelors’, and you’re not attractive enough for them to be biased towards you,” The woman smiled smugly.
“Ah, shut it.”
“What’s ah, what’s the issue here, then?” Guy interjected before they could keep fighting.
“Well, me and this little-” The woman paused, took a deep breath, and continued. “Me and Mr. Knight here are wondering - which is a better form of entertainment, the art of song, or stand-up comedy?” She uttered the last two words with disdain.
“Pfft! Tell them the full story, broad. Y’see, this street belongs to me. I don’t have anywhere else to go, so I just stand here and do my skits. This is the only way I get caps. And then this crazy broad came along, started singing here! Now she’s stealin’ my customers!”
“I need my caps too! Maybe people just like my singing better than your crappy jokes. Not my fault.”
The man gasped. “Why you-”
“Hey, hey, hey.” Guy stepped between them. “We don’t even know who you are. You?” He pointed at the woman.
“Lucille. Lucille Berry.”
“And you?”
“Billy Knight. Listen, buddy, I’m desperate. I need any caps I can get. This broad is gonna make me starve.”
“As if I won’t?”
Arcade snapped his fingers before they could continue. “Okay, just yelling at each other is pointless. You’re just driving away both of your customers. Why don’t…one of you just move to in front of The Gomorrah, or the Lucky 38?”
“By the Gomorrah? Those NCR punks would just think I’m one of the damn strippers.”
“Well, I’m sure they would still really appreciate your singing voice.” Guy added. “You’d get a lot of caps.”
“No dice. If I’m ever gonna get the Rad Pack to notice me and let me perform in the Tops, I gotta show them what I’ve got.” She crossed her arms indignantly. “Besides, we weren’t asking about who should go where. We were asking about who’s the better entertainer.”
Arcade sighed. “Maybe we could get a sample of your talents. We can’t really make an accurate judgment until then.”
“Thank you! I’ll start.” Billy cleared his throat and straightened his vest, “It's hard to sleep in this place, I tell you. Last night some girl was pounding on my door all night. Finally I had to let her out. Eh? Eh?”
“What’s that even implying?” Lucille scoffed. “Not too funny to me.”
“It isn’t about the implication, it’s just a joke! Jeez, what’d I tell you about this crazy broad?”
“Oh, like you aren’t crazy, you two-bit hack!”
Arcade snapped his fingers again. “Can we let Billy get on with his skit?”
“Thank you!” Billy turned back to Guy and Arcade. “Alright, so, I know a guy, his motto is Love Thy Neighbor. He lives next door to a brothel!”
Guy chuckled. Arcade smirked a little. Lucille rolled her eyes.
“Huh? Huh? How ‘bout another? I told my wife she was good-looking for a ghoul. It's just too bad she's not a ghoul! Hah!”
“Heh. Alright, that’s decent.” Guy grinned.
“Pfft! Like anyone would marry your nasally, skinny, ghoul-looking-ass.” Lucille smiled. “Hey, maybe I should do stand-up!”
“Face it, you ain’t got the chops, lady!”
“Woah, hey,” Guy turned to Lucille. “Ms. Johnson, how about you sing us a little something?”
“I’d be happy to,” Lucille cleared her throat. “Mi, mi, mi, laaa, la-” She continued making other such strange noises to warm up.
“What’s she even doing? Jeez, a coyote sounds better than this!” Billy commented.
“Billy, shut your damn mouth or I’m gonna kick your flat little ass,” Lucille retorted.
“Hey, come on!”
“You don’t say a man’s ass is flat, Lucille,” Guy chided.
“I say whatever I want! Anyways.” She straightened her dress. “I’m gonna be singing ‘No Particular Place to Go.’”
“Never heard of that,” Billy complained.
“That’s ‘cause you don’t know good music.” She leaned down near a large luggage bag, took a radio from the bag, put a holotape in it, and stood up. The song started with a guitar riff.
“Riding along in my automobile, my baby beside me at the wheel,”
She continued with the cheery, peppy song in a beautiful, yet catchy voice, while Guy smiled at the tune and Billy watched in dismay. She continued to the next chorus.
“Riding along in my automobile, I was anxious to tell her the way I feel. So I told her softly and sincere-”
“Hey, did you say ‘her?’” Billy interrupted.
“What? You don’t think it’s okay?” She immediately whipped around to face Guy, “Y’hear that?”
“What?! I didn’t say anything bad about it, I was just pointing it out!”
Guy grinned nervously. “I...don’t think he meant it like that, Lucille.”
“He did!”
“He didn’t say anything against…uh, people like that, Lucille,” Arcade replied matter-of-factly.
“Well.” Guy tried to lessen the tension. “I, for one, thought you were both amazing. Billy, you are quite a talented comedian. And Lucille, your singing voice is beautiful.”
“That’s nice of you to say, pal, but you can only choose one.” Billy crossed his arms indignantly.
“...Well, I’d say you both win this one.”
“Okay, sure, but who gets to stay here?” Lucille pressed.
“...Well, can’t you take shifts?”
“No can do, pal. I need to be out here at the busiest times of the day to get any kinda caps, and this broad says that’s the only time she wants to be out here!”
“No shit. I need to earn my money, too.”
“Okay, okay, I get the point.” Guy sighed and ran a hand through his hair. “Well…”
“How about one of you just performs in front of Vault 21?” Arcade suggested matter-of-factly. “There’s plenty of traffic from tourists there. Even if the Chairmen can’t see you directly, you’ll get enough word of mouth from their patrons that’ll hear a lot about you. Right?”
Billy and Lucille paused.
“Oh.”
“Oh!”
“Yeah.”
“Goddamn, I didn’t think of that.” Lucille put her hands on her hips, thinking, then shook her head and grinned sheepishly. “Heh. Well, I guess that’s a solution. Not as much music over there, too. So…tourists could probably hear me better anyway.”
“Thank god!” Billy sighed in relief.
“Shut your mouth. We’ll see who gets into the Aces first.” Lucille grabbed the duffle bag next to her, placing her radio inside. “Thank you, gentlemen. I’ll see you soon, if you plan on stopping by The Aces.” She smiled, pat Guy on the shoulder, and continued past him over to the next gate up on the Strip. Guy couldn’t help noticing how remarkably stable she was even in stiletto heels on uneven pavement.
“What a woman.” Billy whistled.
“...I thought you hated her.” Guy looked back at Billy.
“Well, sure, she’s kind of a bitch, but any guy with half a brain can appreciate a lady with va-VOOM, ya know?” Billy made a broad gesture with his hands, grinning.
“...I’m not sure I can, Billy.”
“...Oh. Well, in your case, a guy with va-voom.”
“I suppose so?”
“Exactly, pally. Thanks for helping out, by the by.”
“Oh, it’s no problem. Not every day I meet a comedian. Most want to be a singer, or a musical performer, something of that sort. How long have you been doing comedy?”
“If you believe my mother, since she first laid eyes on me. First thing she said was ‘Boy! That's a funny-looking kid!’ I guess I got a face only a mother could love, because nobody else would give me the time of day. Maybe you can help me, see, I can never tell when it's lunchtime.” Billy paused after each line, expecting a response, which he did receive in the form of modest chuckles. A tourist passing by tossed a couple of caps into a hat next to him.
“Woah, hey, thanks, lady!” Billy called after the tourist as she continued walking. He turned back to Guy. “Hey, you’re good luck. You ever been in the biz? You look like it.”
“I get that a lot.” Guy shrugged. “I sang in some lounges in New Reno, Vault City. Some places out west.”
“You did?” Arcade glanced at Guy.
“Ya did?” Billy whistled. “Far cry from there, pally.”
“Heh, well, it’s difficult to keep a steady job like that. I left for a reason. It was…just a hobby between tours.”
“Hell, you get could get hired at lounges and you call it a ‘hobby’? It’s true what they say, the pretty people get it easy.”
“Why, thank you!”
“Guy, I’m not sure that was a compliment.” Arcade paused. “Actually, I’m not totally sure anything he says is a compliment.”
“Oh, you’ll know when I’m insulting you, pal. For instance.” Billy cleared his throat.
“That’s oka-”
“Jeez, buddy, didja live in a vault your whole friggin’ life? You look like a lava lamp could sunburn you!”
“...Yeah, I’m aware.”
“Heheh, well, we’ve gotta get going.” Guy pat Arcade on the shoulder. “It’s getting a little late, and I don’t think Arcade’s feeling too hot.”
“Well, considering how much this guy gets out, it doesn’t take too much to make him hot!”
“You can’t insult me more than I do.” Arcade replied drily.
Billy paused, then snapped his fingers. “Wait wait wait, I know what don’t make him hot. Those ladies at the Gomorrah. You probably like the Omertas better! Hey!”
“Wow, okay, you actually offended me.” Arcade cracked a bit of a grin. “Good job. But once we go into that territory, there’s no going back out. Guy, you ready to go?”
“Sure.” Guy turned to Billy. “I hope you find your big break, soon, Billy.”
“A break's better than a shot - less chance of lead poisoning.” He stepped after Guy after thinking for a moment, when Guy started to leave. “H-hey, if you know any gigs hiring, I'll work cheap. Real cheap. I'll take peanuts!”
“Well, uh, I’ll let you know. I assume you’ll still be out here?”
“Nowhere else t’go, pally. See ya.”
“He was funny, right?”
Arcade shrugged, “Yeah, he was adequate in the comedy department, I guess. Good enough for Vegas. Maybe.”
“So...?”
“What?”
Guy grinned. “Do you like the gangsters at the Gomorrah better than the performers?”
“Ugh, no.” Arcade spoke over Guy’s cackling. “Just, no. Not if they were the last men on earth. Ever. Have you seen.”
Guy calmed down a little, still chuckling as he pat Arcade on the back. “Hah, aw, Arcade, you’re gonna hurt their feelings.”
“I think the only thing that could hurt an Omerta’s feelings is a weaker flow of caps.”

Luci, Jake, and Charon headed off for the highway trading post after their business in Boulder City was done, visible at the intersection in the distance.
The trading post consisted of a small shop on an overpass, with some tables and benches surrounding it. Along the road over the overpass, a woman appeared to be running a shop out of a trailer, next to an NCR encampment, populated by rather bored-looking NCR soldiers. Standing next to one of the roads, looking down at the road below, under the overpass, was a young woman in ragged, sack-cloth robes, a hood drawn over her face so that Luci couldn’t even quite tell she was woman until she turned, hearing them approach the blonde woman running the trading post.
The blonde woman in question was clearing off one of the benches when they saw her.
“Welcome to the 188 Slop & Shop. How can I help you folks?” She smiled politely, looking between them.
“Well, uh, could use some supplies. Would you be willin’ to buy anything?”
“Sure. But if you’re selling weapons, you’d probably be better off talking to Amy.” She pointed out the woman sitting outside the trailer on the road.
“Ah. Thanks, miss…?”
“Kerr. Michelle Kerr. My Dad and me run this store. His name's Samuel. I take the day shift and he takes nights. We came here about a month ago, when Primm went to hell on account of the prison break north of there. Found a bin to call home and set up shop.” She shrugged. “Not much to say.”
“As good a place as any to hunker down.” Luci looked through her bag, trying to find any parts Michelle might want that she didn’t. “Why’s this place called the 188?”
“You do know these old roads were numbered, right? We're standing where the 95 and 93 meet. And 95 plus 93 equals...188.” Michelle smiled a bit, clearly amused by the name.
“Oh, heh. I get it.” Luci paused. “Hm. I don’t got a whole lot to sell. Do you got any repair work need doing?”
“Hm.” Michelle crossed her arms and thought for a moment. “Well, our generator’s been a bit funky. Keeps turning off randomly. Needs a kick to get it going once it does, but that probably won’t work forever.”
“I might be able to fix it. Mind letting me take a look?”
“Sure. You got anything to sell?” She turned to Jake.
He shrugged. “Not a whole lot. Do you got anything to eat?”
“Sure. You like roasted squirrel?”
“I know I do. You want some, Luci?”
“Sure. After I fix that generator.”
The generator was out back behind the shop. Luci couldn’t help but notice the woman in the hood had been looking at her. Indeed, a little after Luci had started taking the casing off of the generator, she approached, looking at her from around the corner of the store. She had a relatively youthful-looking, keen face. Friendly, with a certain sharpness behind her eyes. Luci paused, then turned to look at the girl.
“Howdy, little lady.” Luci grinned peaceably.
“Hey.” The young woman stepped out fully from behind the corner of the trading post, smiling in turn.
“If y’need anything, I don’t mind your asking.” Luci turned back to the generator. Looked like it needed a new battery.
“Oh, no. It’s just…” The woman shrugged. “No offense, but you look like you've traveled a long way down some bad roads. Where'd you come from?”
Luci paused. “Goodsprings.”
“Wow, you have come a long way, then. I've never been there, but I've met some traders who pass that way.” The young woman approached, sitting on a crate next to Luci. “Well, welcome, then. I'm Veronica. I live in a hole in the ground.”
Luci blinked, then turned to Veronica. “...You, uh…y’live in a hole in the ground?”
Veronica shrugged. “Well, a bunker, if you want to get technical. I think it sounds more interesting my way. But I'm not there much anymore. I'm usually out here picking up food and supplies for my family. Whatever they need.”
“So, you just leave your family in the bunker?”
“Yeah. I'm not worried. They can handle themselves. But somebody has to get the groceries, know what I mean? And actually these days I think they'd rather have me out here anyway. But that's a whole other story.” She waved her hand dismissively and paused for a moment. “By the way, I didn’t get your name.”
“Lucía Perez. Everyone calls me Luci.” Luci turned back to the generator and got to work on removing the half-dead battery. She had a replacement, but she’d have to charge Michelle for it.
“That’s a pretty name.” Veronica paused again. “So, listen, can I ask you something on the level?”
“Shoot.”
“I had a run-in with this group calling themselves the Brotherhood of Steel. Pretty strange bunch. Do you know anything about them?”
Luci stopped after taking out the battery to think. “Pretty harmless, unless you’re wavin’ around some fancy tech or something.”
“Oh, well, that shouldn’t be a problem for me.” Veronica snorted humorously. “I can't afford anything like that.”
“I would mention that.” Luci pointed at the Power Fist on the young lady’s right hand. “But, come to think of it, that ain’t too high-tech by their standards.”
“This? Oh, yeah, not by a long shot. I had to fix it up myself.” Veronica lifted up the power fist, looking it over. “Hey, so, where are you headed, anyway?”
“...I’m, uh, goin’ to see an old friend.”
Veronica whistled. “This is quite a journey you're going on, then. Must be an interesting relationship to have brought you all this way.” She didn’t quite sound like she believed Luci.
Luci got to work on fitting the generator with a new battery. “Heh. You got no idea, little lady.”
“...I'll be honest. You're the first person I've run across out here that looks like she can really handle herself. There are places I've never been to that'd be too dangerous for just me. What do you think? Maybe we could travel together, help each other out.”
Luci paused, looking at the generator. She always found it a little harder to say no to a pretty face.
“Where’d you wanna go?”
“Oh, nowhere in particular, really. Just hoping to see more of the world. Looking for a fresh perspective. I want to see how different groups have adapted to survive in the Mojave. See if there's something I can learn from.” Veronica shrugged, then leaned forward, resting her head on her hand.
“Your family’s gonna be okay?”
“Like I said, they can handle themselves. And I'm not the only one getting supplies for them. It's a big family.”
Luci chuckled. Reminded her of home.
Not home anymore. She put it out of her mind.
“...Alrigh’, no offense to you, little lady, but,” Luci finished replacing the battery and turned to Veronica. “You don’t really look like much. I don’t wanna bring you out there if you can’t take care of yourself. It’s nastier than you think it is in the wastes. What do you think you can bring to the table? Can you defend yourself?”
To Luci’s surprise, Veronica smirked. “Heh. Good. That's the look I was going for. Trust me on this one, though. You'll be glad you brought me along. If I turn out to be a burden, we can part ways at any time. No hard feelings.”
“...Alrigh’. Sure, then.” Luci slapped the side of the generator and stood up. “Y’should know that I’m travelin’ with that guy and his ghoul friend out there. Speak of the devil.” She turned to the corner of the shop as Jake approached.
“Hey. You guys are, uh, talking?”
“Oh! Hey. I’m Veronica.” Veronica held up her hand.
“Uh, nice to meetcha. I’m Jake.” He pointed at the power fist. “Nice gauntlet.”
“Thank you!” She looked between him and Luci. “Say, I was asking Luci about it. What do you know about the Brotherhood of Steel?”
“Why’re you asking?”
Luci stood up and brushed off her sleeves. “She said she ran into ‘em earlier.”
Jake smiled fondly. “Oh. Well, the Chapter I met out east was really helpful.”
Veronica blinked. “The eastern Chapter? Really?”
“Yeah. A little, uh…agoraphobic, I guess, but overall helpful. Out here, they’re even more closed in, but they don’t seem dangerous. I don’t think they’re bad, really.”
“Mmhm. That’s what I said. No need to worry about ‘em if you’re a regular guy.”
“Alright, so, you should know something too.” Veronica looked between them. “I asked you about the Brotherhood because I'm one of them.”
Jake blinked. “Oh…?”
Luci just looked at Veronica and raised a brow.
“I know, I know. But I had to know how you'd react when I told you. We've made a lot of enemies. You still okay bringing me along?”
“I mean, I don’t got a problem with it.” Luci shrugged indifferently.
“I’m cool with it, just…be honest from now on, ‘kay?” Jake replied a little more seriously.
“Sure. Just don't ever ask me if your outfit makes you look fat.”
“Pfft. Don’t worry, I’ll tell ‘im.” Luci chuckled.
Veronica turned to Luci, beaming. “Well, thanks for taking a chance on a naive young girl from California with stars in her eyes and a pneumatic gauntlet on her hand.”
“Heheh. No problem, little lady.” Luci stretched her arms. “Ookay, I’ll let Michelle know her generator’s fixed. And we gotta sell them weapons, too. Gotta grab Ronnie here some armor.” Luci slapped Veronica on the back.
“Okay, maybe let’s just stick to Veronica, okay?” Veronica replied half in amusement.
“We’ll see.”

“So, what’s his deal?” Veronica questioned between mouthfuls of squirrel bits, looking at Charon.
“Oh, well, he’s been with me for, what, four years?” Jake looked at Charon.
Charon sipped his beer.
“...Yeah, four years.”
“You guys are from the east coast, then?”
“Yep. Washington D.C.”
“Woow, so, the old capital then.” Veronica nodded, finishing her lunch. “Cool. Uh, no offense, but why he is so…quiet?”
“...I dunno. That’s just how Charon is.”
“The contract does obligate me to talk.” Charon grunted.
“The what?” Luci raised a brow.
“Oh, yeah, that.” Jake shrugged. “Charon says he has to follow this contract. I bought it off some asshole in a ghoul city, and, I mean, it’s better than him having to serve that guy. But it’d be better if he didn’t feel like he had to ‘serve’ anyone. I’ve, been, um, trying to help him outta that, but…” Jake paused. “It’s just slow-going, right, Charon?”
Charon finished his beer.
“Why don’tcha just burn it?” Luci looked between Jake and Charon.
“No.” Charon spoke a little louder than before, replying so fast he almost cut off Luci.
“...Yeah, he reallythat.” Veronica nodded. “That’s, uh…it’s interesting.”
“Well, now I gotta hear it.” Luci looked at her own pip-boy and tuned the radio into the Black Mountain station. A song seemed to end and give way to a talk segment as she tuned in. The voice of what sounded like someone imitating a Mr. Handy crackled to life over the station.
“You're listening to Radio Free Utobitha, bringing truth to Utobithians 24 hours a day! Welcome!”
“What the hell is that?” Jake leaned forward on the table curiously.
The deep, gravelly voice of a Super Mutant responded to the first voice over the radio. “I still miss you, Rhonda. After all these years…”
“I got no fuckin’ idea, man.” Luci squinted at the screen.
“Also joining us from his locked cell is Raul Tejada, master mechanic who can be executed at any time! Hello, Raul. Or should that be 'Hola?'” The “Mr. Handy” continued.
An older man’s voice, rough and accented, sounded over the radio.
“Uh. Either one works.”
“Today you die, Raul! I command it!” The super mutant threatened.
“Ooooh, Raul. Supreme commander Tabitha says you die today. Any reaction?”
“Claro. I’m going to obey supreme Tabitha, whatever she says.” Raul’s voice grew a little more sarcastic. “Just I feel so bad I’ll die before I fix her special robot.”
After a moment of silence, the Super Mutant growled, and the station played music again.
“...Yeah. Like I said. Weird.” Veronica sat back.
“What the fuck?” Jake blinked. “Who was that guy?”
“Well-”
The music stopped abruptly. They looked back at the pip-boy as the man’s voice returned.
“Si me oyes, soy un prisionero de los mutantes. Estoy en un edificio en la parte más alta de la Montaña Negra. Necesito ayuda, por favor.” The man’s voice grew quiet. “Oye. No tiene sentido…”
The music cut back in.
“...Okay, what the hell was that?” Jake looked at them, baffled.
“That was Spanish, man.”
“Well, sure, but what the hell was he saying?”
“He needs help. I mean, I think we got that from the first part, but that was just him tellin’ us where he is. He’s at the top of Black Mountain.” Luci grabbed a cigarette from her pouch.
“You knew that?”
“My name’s Lucía and I’m from Texas. You think I didn’t?” Luci grinned and lit the cigarette with Benny’s lighter.
“Nice!” Veronica paused, her enthusiasm fading pretty fast. “...So…uh…what do we do?”
“We go up there, kill them super mutants pro’ly keepin’ him there, and help ‘im.”
“That is…way easier said than done.” Jake looked more than a little skeptical.
“I’m gonna agree with Jake. I like punching things, but I’m not too sure I can punch through a super mutant.” Veronica shrugged.
“Well, we gotta try.”
“Try what?”
They all turned to see, to their surprise, Rob and Boone, from Novac, accompanied by their flying robot. They both looked quite weary.
“There’s a Mexican guy bein’ kept prisoner by a buncha mutants on Black Mountain.” Luci chomped on her cigarette. “What you two doin’ over here?”
“We’re heading to Vegas. Like damn near everyone else here.” Rob looked at Veronica. “Who are you?”
“Veronica. Nice to meetcha.” Veronica smiled and gave a small wave.
Boone waved back, though his face didn’t change.
“Hmph. Okay.” Rob looked back at them. “Sorry, did you say a bunch of mutants? Why in the bloody hell are you risking your neck against mutants for one man?”
“‘Cause he needs help, Rob. Try bein’ a countryman for once, huh?” Luci took the cigarette out of her mouth and exhaled the smoke, away from Jake and Veronica.
“One. I wasn’t born there. Two, I don’t care about this bloody country either.”
“He’s being kept prisoner by mutants?” Boone questioned, half in disbelief.
“Yeah. Oh, yeah, Veronica, uh, this is Rob and Boone.” Jake gestured to each of them respectively. “We met them in Novac.”
“...Well, I don’t want to leave someone up there to die. Right?” Boone looked at Rob.
“Since when did you decide to become a Saint?”
“I didn’t. I just decided to be a decent person. Most I can do.” Boone turned to them. “When are you going?”
“Pro’ly tomorrow. It’d be better to start our way up early.”
“Alright.” Boone looked back at Rob. “So?”
Rob groaned. “Ugh. Fine. I suppose so. But I’m just being your spotter. And if ED-E gets hurt, we’re leaving.”
“Eddie?” Veronica tried to look past them, presumably to see if someone else was with them.
“Him.” Rob pat ED-E’s side, prompting a beep from it.
“Him?” Veronica cocked her head. “It’s a robot.”
“Yes, him.” Rob scowled. “Like I said. If he gets hurt, we are not helping you.”
“Alrigh’, we get it.” Luci looked around and nodded. “Y’know, with all of us together, I think we can break Raul outta there.”
“I damn well hope you don’t just thinkthings, ma'am. I sell thoughts.”
“Well, then, what’s all that junk for?”
“That's not junk. That's other people's thoughts. People had to think to make them, and the thoughts got stuck inside. I need other people's thoughts to fill my head when I'm not thinking myself. Otherwise it's...kind of empty.”
Luci thought she’d heard an old story about a powerful psychic mutant back in the day, but everyone who heard it, including her, just assumed it was a tall tale. Maybe it wasn’t.
“How much for a thought, then?”
“100 caps, ma’am.”
A little steep, but Luci just wanted to chip in what she could for the kid.
“Alright. I’ll have two thoughts, then.”
The kid beamed. “Great! What do you want me to think about? I can think about You, Here...or Everywhere. What do you want?”
“Hm…how about me?”
“Okay.” The kid took off the strange metal helmet. After a moment, his eyes seemed to glaze over. “Your face does the thinking - two to the skull, yet one gets up. Odds are against you...but they're just numbers after the two-to-one. You're playing the hand you've been dealt, but you don't let it rest, you shuffle and stack, and a gamble...a gamble that may pay off? But how? Forecast: Rapidly changing conditions.”
Luci blinked. The kid did sound genuine.
He put his helmet back on, frowning. “A lot of thinking - most of it in your face, it's almost shouting at me. Sorry if I said anything weird.”
“Say, kid, could you hear what…were I’m supposed to be? What’s supposed to have happened?”
“What do you mean?”
“I mean-” Luci stopped. “...I don’t feel like I’m supposed to be here. Am I? Did your thoughts say something about it?”
The kid shook his head. “I’m sorry, miss, it doesn’t work like that. The thoughts just come to me, and it has to be sort of…I can’t make specific thoughts come to me. Sorry.”
“...Alrigh’. Don’t apologize, kid.” Luci placed a pouch of caps in front of the kid. “And how ‘bout Here?”
“Okay.” The kid took off his helmet once more. “Local, local, the here and now...little of interest...things to buy, false hopes, and regrets watered down, washed down in dirty glasses. With regret comes a girl... smiling sad, brown robe, name Veronica, half here. Wraps her and her heart up like a pack, in the pack, a key, some say. Forecast: Cloudy, with a chance of friendship.”
“...Okay. Thanks, kid.” Luci placed another pouch of caps beside the first. “You’ve been real helpful.”
The kid smiled. “Really? People don’t usually think so.”
“Nah. They just need to think about it a little more.” Luci stood up. “Good luck, kid. And get yourself something to eat.”
“Okay! Thanks, miss!”

They continued around the side of Black Mountain after dawn, looking for a road up and avoiding the main highway, particularly the I-95, as Luci was warned against.
ED-E beeped at some point along the road. Rob tensed up as he turned to the robot.
“...ED-E says he senses something big.”
“Where?” Luci continued picking her way across the rocks and helping Jake and Veronica up across some rocks.
“Down there.” Rob pointed down the side of the mountain.
“Well, they’re too far down.”
“Might be Deathclaws.” Boone commented grimly.
“That’s really comforting, man. ‘Sides, I said they’re too far down.”
“They’re Deathclaws! Nowhere’s too high or far for them!” Rob whispered harshly as he approached the rock face Luci had climbed over.
“Well, they’re definitely gonna hear us if you keep bitchin’ about ‘em.”
“Oh, man, I didn’t there would be this much cardio when I signed up for this.” Veronica huffed as she sat at the edge of the rock face.
“You said you wanted to travel the wasteland and didn’t expect cardio?” Rob questioned incredulously.
Boone walked up to the edge of the rock face and grabbed Charon’s hand. With Jake’s help, they pulled him over.
“Woof, you are heavier than you look.” Jake pat Boone on the back as he stood up and brushed himself off. “Alright, Rob, let’s see if you can back up those words!”
“I never said I’m good at cardio, I just was saying that it’s stupid to want to travel without really considering it.” He crossed his arms. “Besides, this isn’t cardio.”
“Whatever, come on.” Veronica leaned over the edge, offering her free hand.
Rob sighed and jumped up to grab it. Shockingly, she didn’t need much help from Jake to pull him over.
“Woah!” Jake stepped back as they pulled Rob up.
“Hey, what can I say, I’m pretty strong, once I can catch my breath.” Veronica grinned. “Though, to be fair, Rob’s pretty light. You need to eat more.” She pat Rob on the shoulder as they both stood up.
“Pfft. Save your advice for someone who wants it.” Rob smacked away her hand.
“Wow, okay.” Veronica shrugged.
“Don’t mind ‘im, Veronica.”
“Trust me, it’s not personal.” Boone grunted.
They continued around the mountain, catching sight of the giant satellite array at the peak, as well as some shacks just a little farther down the mountain. As they continued circling around to the west, they spotted more structures and barricades built up around the winding road leading up to the peak from the base of the mountain. Eventually, once ED-E had stopped warning Rob about the possible Deathclaws below, they had to travel further down the mountain to avoid the notice of the Super Mutants they could make out patrolling the roads.
At the base of the mountain, where the road up the mountain met the I-95, lay a shack, just next to the pavement. As they approached the shack, another Super Mutant lumbered out of his shack, this one without armor. Rob reached for his rifle, and Luci instinctively placed a hand on her holster.
“Woah! Hey, he’s cool.” Jake held out a hand as the Super Mutant stood on the road, eyeing them. “You’re cool, right?”
The Super Mutant did, indeed, seem cool, and spoke with a far less distorted, more human-sounding voice than most others. “This is a dangerous place, humans - especially for your kind! I suggest you turn back. There's nothing good waiting for you further on.”
Rob lowered his rifle. “Oh. You actually seem coherent, for a mutant.”
The Super Mutant narrowed his eyes. “Keep saying things like that, and I won't be so friendly. Not every Super Mutant is a brain-damaged brute. Many of us are just as intelligent as basic humans - and the rest don't really have any choice in the matter, do they?”
Jake looked at Rob, looking partially offended on the Mutant’s behalf. Rob sighed irritably. “Fine. Sorry.”
“And none taken...since you apologized.” The Super Mutant didn’t sound like he believed Rob’s apology.
“Sorry about him, he’s an asshole to everyone.” Jake added dismissively.
“Hm. I can believe that.”
“Sorry we got the wrong idea ‘bout you, man. Who are you, anyhow?”
“Neil. And I’m not here to chat. I’m here to tell you to move on.”
“Well, what’s so dangerous up there that you want us to go?”
“You must've heard her radio broadcasts? Though why a human would follow her invitation here is beyond me...unless you didn't listen very closely. The voice on the radio belongs to Tabitha, the ‘supreme commander’ of Black Mountain - or, as she calls it, the ‘State of Utobitha.’ She took control of this place almost two years ago. The Super Mutants here do whatever she says - and she says humans are to be killed on sight.”
“We did hear them broadcasts. And we heard a regular guy’s voice on ‘em. Name of Raul.”
Neil sighed heavily. “I know.”
“What happened with him?”
“It’s a long story.”
“I like long stories.” Luci crossed her arms.
“...For years, Black Mountain was a peaceful community. Its leader, Marcus, broadcast an invitation to Mutants throughout the wasteland.That's how I found Black Mountain. So did others, most of them second generation Mutants. Marcus welcomed everyone - that was his mistake. The community ended up being mostly second gen - not very bright, but easy to influence. Fine, until the Nightkin came along, led by Tabitha...In a week she had most of the second-gens thinking she was some kind of prophet - and that she should be broadcasting her ‘truth,’ not Marcus. Marcus saw what was coming and decided to leave before things got out of hand. He smashed the radio and left to found Jacobstown.”
“What does this have to do with Raul?” Rob interjected impatiently.
“I told you. It’s a long story. You’re welcome to leave before it’s over.”
“Go on.” Luci pressed.
“...Well, Marcus destroyed the radio, but while we were gone some Ghoul named Raul came along. Tabitha turned him into her personal mechanic. A slave, really. See, if I'd been standing down here, I could've warned him before it was too late. That’s why you need to go. I understand you want to help, but you will almost certainly either end up like him, or worse.”
“I ‘preicate your concern, man, but he was just one ghoul. There’s six of us, not even countin’ Dogmeat.”
Dogmeat barked happily upon hearing his name.
Neil looked between them, “...I can’t stop you. But you’re going at your own risk.”
“Say, uh, what’s Jacobstown?” Jake interjected.
“You could say it’s the opposite of Black Mountain. A stable community of Mutants, mostly, led by a mentally stable leader. Humans are welcome there, so long as they behave themselves. It's northwest of Red Rock Canyon, if you ever need to find it.”
“Thanks. Sounds like a nice place. Super Mutants need a place to go where no one’s gonna try and make them kill people. Or try to kill them.”
“Exactly.” Neil nodded agreeably. “Humans like you are rare, and usually appreciated. But the Super Mutants here are too loyal to Tabitha to understand that.”
“Listen, Neil, you seem like you’re tired of Tabitha, and I would be too, if I were you. And now you’ve got 6 people, all willing to help you try and overturn her. I think this is your best bet of getting rid of her weird little dictatorship, once and for all.”
Neil paused, looking at the pavement and mumbling, mostly to himself. “Help would improve the odds. Help might just make the difference…” He looked back at them. “All right, if you're good enough at what you do to meet me in the village up near the peak, we can talk further. I'll have a plan by the time I see you all - if I see you. Good luck. It's going to be a lot harder for you to get up there than it will be for me.”
“What’s that s’posed to mean?” Luci interrupted.
“The road is a series of switchbacks up to the peak. There are three blockades, plus patrols. Sneaking past them would be...difficult. Just before the peak is a kind of shanty village. More second-gens there. And then there's Tabitha's compound - heavily guarded by her Nightkin.”
“Nightkin?”
“They were created to be soldiers, and given devices to camouflage them in battle. Unfortunately, the devices drove most of them mad over time.” Neil shook his head sadly.
“Well, that explains a lot.” Rob mumbled, mostly to himself. Luci decided not to question that.
“Alrigh’. Where would Raul be?”
“Almost certainly in Tabitha’s compound.”
“Got it.” Luci nodded. “You head on up, and we’ll meetcha there.”
“Good luck. You’ll need it.” Neil turned and started on his way up the road, going much faster than a regular person, even at a sprint. As he reached the barricades, the armored Super Mutants let him through.
“...Okay. So, what’s the plan? Do we even have a bloody plan?” Rob looked at the others.
“Oh, my plan is usually just…punching.” Veronica shrugged.
“Perfect, that’s comforting.” Rob replied sarcastically.
“I do got a plan. Somewhat.” Luci added.
“So?”
“Alrigh’. Some of us make up a frontal assault, blow up them barricades and the Super Mutants. Rest of us hang back and snipe ‘em, lay down some cover fire.”
“Sounds good.” Jake nodded in agreement. “Me, Charon, and Veronica can take the charge. You and Boone can stick back and snipe.”
“What about Rob and ED-E?”
They all turned to look at them. Rob glared back.
“I am not letting ED-E get taken apart by Muties.”
“We won’t let him be taken apart. He can just back up the frontal assault, that’s all. He’s a good shot, right?”
“Well, I’m not going up there, and I’m certainly not entrusting him to someone who hates him.”
“I don’t hate him!” Jake retorted. “He-I mean, it’s just a robot!”
“He is NOT just a robot!”
“Okay, okay!” Veronica stepped between them. “How about I take him? I like robots, anyway.”
Rob scowled, looking between her and Jake, before sighing and turning to ED-E. “You wouldn’t mind going with her, ED-E?”
ED-E beeped.
“Okay.” He turned back to Veronica. “Fine, you can take him. But if he gets hurt-”
Veronica held up her hands. “Don’t worry! I got him.” She paused. “Wait, you understood that?”
“Don’t ask.” Boone emptied his rifle and looked through his ammunition. “You’ll want buckshots or overcharged cells, by the way. Regular bullets won’t cut it.”
“Got it.” Luci started replacing the cells in her laser rifle. She only had a few overcharged shots, so she would have to make them count.
“Okay.” Jake finished reloading his shotgun. “Everyone ready?”
“Ready!” Veronica held up one of the thumbs on her Power Fist.
“Mmhm.” Boone looked around and pointed out an outcropping over the road. “Me and Luci’ll hide out there.”
“Sounds good. Ready.” Luci looked over her laser rifle once more.
“I suppose I’ll spot for them.” Rob shrugged dismissively.
“Ready.” Charon looked at Jake.
“Okay.” Jake, in turn, looked at Dogmeat. “Hey, boy, you should stay here. I don’t think you can do too much against Super Mutants.”
Dogmeat whined, but sat down and stayed.
“Good boy. We’ll be back soon.”
Luci kneeled down and prompted Dante to climb off her shoulder. “Those big guys’ll squash ya like a bug, little man. Wait down here with Dogmeat and he’ll keep ya safe.

Luci set up the laser rifle on the ridge she and Boone headed for that allowed a clear view of the first barricade, just a little down the road. Jake and Charon snuck around to it with the dynamite Luci had given them and the grenades Jake had on hand.
Charon tossed the first grenade, landing it squarely in the middle of the gateway through the barricade where the armored Super Mutants were standing. The blast didn’t kill them, but the force, the shards of the grenade, and the smoke was enough to surprise and stagger them. Luci started firing, the overcharged cells allowing a few of her laser shots to blast through the thinner parts of the Mutant’s armor. Boone waited until Veronica got close, landed a square punch through one of the Super Mutant’s stomachs, and backed up before he started firing. A couple of his bullets ricocheted off of the armor, but most hit. When the Mutants turned to try and fire on him and Luci, they ducked and hid as Jake and Charon started providing their own cover fire. Before long, they had been shot full of enough bullets and fell.
“Aw. I was hoping to get a few more punches in.” Veronica grinned as Luci and Boone headed over.
“Sorry. Didn’t want to risk it.” Boone answered quietly.
“Heh, don’t worry about it, I was just joking.” Veronica pat Boone on his shoulder. “I think we all did pretty good.”
“Damn right.” Luci nodded. “Let’s keep goin’.”
They continued down the road, past the checkpoint, where the road curved back around and upwards.
Just when Luci stepped past a rock, she heard a thump just behind her. She turned, catching a glimpse of a Nightkin shedding its invisibility and raising its scrap metal blade, before Veronica charged into it and slammed her Power Fist into its stomach, sending it to the side, and slamming against the rock face next to the road. Jake stepped past her and unloaded a couple of shots into the Nightkin, but it appeared he was already dead.
“Goddamn. Thanks, Veronica.” Luci turned and looked at the dead Nightkin. “Damn. Shoulda listened to Neil.”
“Whew! Don’t worry about it, I don’t think any of us saw him coming.” Veronica whistled.
Boone furrowed his brow. “I did see him. At the last second. I should’ve taken the lead.”
“Don’t beat yourself up ‘bout it. You wanna take the lead now?”
Boone nodded and pushed up to the head of the group, scanning the road ahead of them and stopping to look at the rock face to the left as the road curved. “Hey. That’s…”
They all followed his gaze to see that between the steeper rock faces lay a slightly gentler slope, at the bottom of which a dead NCR lay, his body shot full of holes and his leg caught in a bear trap.
“Poor guy.” Luci cautiously stepped over to the body and looked up the slope. “...Hey, looks like we could climb up here.”
“You sure?” Jake raised a brow. “Not everyone’s as, uh, agile as you.”
“I already saw that when you was tryin’ to climb those rocks, Jake.” Luci grinned and continued a little bit up the slope.
“That’s not funny.” Jake insisted, despite cracking a slight smile. “And be careful.”
“Alrigh’, I’ll see if it’s safe for y’all to come up. Seems good right now.” She stopped upon seeing another bear trap and tossed a rock in the middle of it, setting it off. “Looks like a couple more. Let me take are of ‘em.”
“Uh, are you sure you’re okay? It looks pretty steep.” Veronica called after her once she’d set off a couple more bear traps.
Luci stopped, hearing rumbling. The others look around the slope.
“...What was that?”
“I dunno.” Luci looked up, then quickly scrambled back down the slopes when she saw some rocks come down. The others darted to the side of the rock face, avoiding the rocks, and Luci threw herself against the rock face as the rocks slid past her, clattering onto the road.
“...Okay, so-”
“Well, it’s over. Lemme try again.”
Veronica looked at Jake, who just shrugged as Luci headed back up the slope. She didn’t get too much higher before she heard the rumbling again, louder this time, as a huge boulder slipped over the top edge of the slope.
“Ooh SHIT!” Luci ran down the slope, fell, slid the rest of the way, and was pulled to the side by Jake and Veronica at the bottom. The boulder rolled just past her, slammed against the rocks separating the road above and below, and rolled down to the lower barricade.
They stared at the boulder for a moment longer before Luci jumped back up, brushed herself off, and headed back over to the slope.
“Hey, uh, Luci.” Jake followed her to the bottom of the slope. “Maybe we should-”
“One more time, Jake.” She scrambled up the slope, waiting near the top for the sound of another rockslide, before climbing to the top and standing at the top edge. “Y’see? We’re good! Come on up, I’ll tell ya if there’s any more!”
The rest of them climbed up, thoroughly much more apprehensively than Luci. Eventually, they were all up, and within sight of the shanty village just below the broadcasting station. Just as they climbed back up onto the road, they heard a sudden yell from above as a Super Mutant armed with a sledgehammer, patrolling the ridge around the edge of the village, started bolting down the side, over to the road leading down to them.
“Shit.” Luci grabbed her laser rifle, took aim, and fired off a few shots as he reached the main road, staggering him. Once Boone had his rifle ready, he finished him off.
“Well, I don’t hear any more.” Jake shrugged.
“Let’s keep goin’, then.”
As they headed further up to the road, to the village, Luci stopped upon hearing a clicking from her Pip-Boy. She noticed Jake’s did as well, as did Rob’s, which had gone previously unnoticed. Jake and Rob took a step back, prompting Luci to do the same.
“Shit. That’s the geiger counter.” Jake flicked on his Pip-boy.
Luci checked her own Pip-Boy, finding that the geiger counter had started spiking when they got closer to the village.
“Alright. I got some Rad-X.”
Rob groaned. “Do we have to?”
“What, take Rad-X or go up there? ‘Cause you’re welcome to stay.”
Rob scowled. “Are you taking ED-E?”
“Yeah. He’s fine, isn’t he? He’s a robot.”
“...Then yes, I’m going.”
“I admire your commitment. Somewhat.” Jake looked back at Luci. “I’ve got some Rad-X. A couple pills each should work.”
Jake handed out the Rad-X pills, everyone taking a couple except for Charon and ED-E. Once they were ready, they continued up to the village.
Once they reached the edge, it was made obvious why the place was so irradiated. In the center of the village, around which the scrap metal buildings had been constructed, was a huge crater where a bomb must have dropped just next to the broadcasting station. From inside the scrap metal buildings, they could faintly hear Tabitha’s rambling from still-functioning radios.
They cautiously circled around the side of the crater to the large, low building opposite the road. They slipped in through a hole in the back, finding it to be empty. Inside, they found a couple of locked chests with large sacks of caps within, which they put away to split between them later. It made Luci wonder why they even wanted caps, if they weren’t going to be trading with anyone else.
Just outside of the building’s front door, they found Neil, waiting for them. He turned to them, looking mildly pleased.
“A pleasant surprise to see you all made it. I'm ready to get started if you are.”
Luci nodded. “I sure am. What’s the plan?”
Neil turned and pointed to the fenced in broadcasting station. “The gate to Tabitha's compound is guarded by several Nightkin, all of them using devices that make them invisible. I'm going to draw them away from the gate by telling them I spotted an intruder in the village. Then you slip in.”
“Absolutely genius. WE AREINTRUDERS.” Rob raised his voice a little, though he faltered when Neil turned to him.
“Then you need to hide somewhere,” He replied bluntly.
“Well, we can just hide behind this building. Just try and keep them away from here, alright? And, maybe, to buy more time, tell them we went running down the mountain when we saw you,” Jake added more politely.
“Good idea. I’ll do just that. You should get ready.”
Once they had all headed behind the building, Neil headed over to the compound. Luci peeked out when he came back down the road, leading Nightkin still cloaked by their invisibility fields. Their presence was made more than obvious by the thundering sound of their march and their grumbling.
“Come, I saw them go down the mountain. Pathetic things must have ran upon seeing me,” Neil coaxed them, continuing slowly to make sure they kept up with him.
“WANT CUDDLES’ CAR,” They heard one of them yell.
“He doesn’t-We have to take care of the humans first.”
They waited until they were reasonably sure that the Nightkin were gone before peeking out from behind the rock face where Neil had been hiding out, watching the compound. Luci spotted, past the fence, and on the walkway around the giant satellite, a Nightkin holding a giant rocket launcher. That wouldn’t be easy to get through.
“Hey, Boone.” Luci waved him over and pointed out the Nightkin. “D’ya think you can take out a Super Mutant with one bullet? Preferably, I mean.”
Boone sighed deeply. “I...don’t know. I’ll have to get closer.”
“Alrigh’. Any way we can make you less…noticeable?”
“Hm. I might need to take my beret off, unfortunately. I’ll dust my shirt and pants a little. I’m used to keeping hidden at relatively short distances. And…if I can get up to that fence and try to aim through it…sure. I think I can punch through the skull at that distance.”
“Okay. Knock ‘em dead. I’ll stay here and keep my sights on him, in case he spots you.”
Boone nodded and reluctantly took off his beret, handing it to Luci before kneeling down, spreading some dust on his white shirt, and continuing across the road and up to the compound, getting lower until he was crawling on the ground, up to the fence. Luci aimed her laser rifle at the Nightkin, waiting with bated breath as he set up his rifle.
Boone took his shot. The Nightkin stumbled backwards. Another shot to his head and he went down.
Luci released her breath, not even realizing she had been holding it. It sounded like everyone except for Charon had, too.
Boone propped himself on one knee. He seemed to scan the area for a moment before standing up and heading back, “It looks like it’s clear. Sorry I had to make it two shots. Those things have thick skulls.”
Luci handed his beret back. “Nah, that was great. Good job, man.”
Boone didn’t smile, but his face seemed to relax a little. “...Thanks.”
“Okay. Someone should pro’ly stay back and keep an eye out for those Nightkin, if they come back.”
“I’ll do it.” Boone volunteered, much to Luci’s surprise.
“Y’sure?”
“Yeah. I can fend them off from a distance.”
Jake paused, then looked at Charon. “Hey, will you stay with him, Charon? He needs someone to watch his back.” He did sound genuinely concerned.
“...I will guard this position if you tell me to.”
“Okay, then guard the compound.” Jake stopped again. “If you want.”
“If that is what you wish.”
They headed over to the compound, where Boone and Charon stood guard at the entrance. Luckily, there didn’t seem to be any more Nightkin inside.
“Alrigh’. How ‘bout me and Veronica check this building, and Jake, Rob, you and ED-E can take the next.” She gestured to the first two concrete buildings along the left, with the last being the two-story broadcast building at the end of the road.
Jake nodded. “Okay. Meet back out here in 10?”
“Yep. We’ll let ya know if we find anything.”

Rob waited as Jake opened the door a crack and pushed the barrel of his shotgun through, scanning the room.
“Okay, we’re clear,” He opened the door fully and held it open as Rob and ED-E headed in.
The building was wide, with a low ceiling, and was really just one long room filled with shelves and junk.
“Ugh. Nothing here, I suppose.” Rob paused. “...Maybe a few parts.”
“Yeah, let’s check.”
Rob headed to the left and scanned the shelves for anything useful. He found a few batteries and useful bits of scrap metal, but not much else.
“Uuugh. Jake, did you find anything?” Rob whined.
“Yeah, I think I did! Come here!”
Rob rushed over to find Jake standing over a workbench with an out-of-order Mr. Handy. It was a bit rusty, but in surprisingly good condition.
“...A junk robot. How exciting.”
“Nah, hey, do you remember what Tabitha said on her broadcast? Did you hear it?”
“Do you think I was listening to that mutie ramble?”
“Okay, whatever. Either way, it was playing what...sounded like a Mr. Handy. Or, well, what sounded like someone imitating a Mr. Handy. And then Tabitha said she missed Rhonda.”
“Hm. And you think this thing might be Rhonda?” Rob lowered his voice, speaking to himself. “Nightkin do seem to have a habit of having a little split personality to talk to.”
“That so? Well, maybe if we fix it, we can earn brownie points with Tabitha!”
“Brownie points?”
“Brownie, like...treats. You know, those Fancy Lads treats. The chocolate ones.”
“Why brownies?”
“Just-Tabitha will like us, you know what I mean.”
Rob chuckled sarcastically. “Okay, Jake, love, you just assumed that those things can think rationally.”
“I’ve met one of ‘those things’ before, and they can, okay? Listen, it’s worth a try, right? And you’re a robotics guy, this should be easy.”
“I’m not a ‘robotics guy,’ Jake, I’m a Robotics Engineer and Programmer.”
“Okay, that, then. But you can definitely fix it.”
Rob sighed. “Fine. I guess. But we have to hurry.”
“Right, obviously.”

The room the first concrete building opened into was small and somewhat cramped, with some shelves piled with toolboxes and junk. On the left lay a terminal on a table, and opposite the front door was another that appeared connected to a locked door. Luci found that the one next to the door had some pretty hefty security on it, and so checked the other.
It seemed to be logs kept by Raul concerning repairs, as well as threats and abuses leveled against him. It appared he had been the one who had fixed the terminals and set up the one next to the door.
“Does it say what the password is?” Veronica questioned.
“It’s 123456789.”
Veronica paused. “Yeah, not sure why he’d set it as anything else, actually. Let’s see…”
She entered the password and unlocked the door.
The small room the door opened into looked to be the place where Raul lived and worked. On the right wall, past one of the shelves, lay a table with a ton of broadcasting equipment sitting on top of it, presumably for Raul to maintain. A ghoul with a pencil thin mustache and beard in a blue jumpsuit with a name tag reading “Miguel” was sitting on the chair at the table in front of the door, eating a bowl of noodles with a fork. The noodles looked quite stale. He froze as Luci opened the door.
Luci grinned and lowered her laser rifle. “Hey, man.”
“Took you long enough. Can I go now?” He sounded more tired and irritated than anything else as he placed the bowl on the table.
“...Uh. Whaddya mean?”
“Sorry. I assumed the only reason you'd fight past a horde of Super mutants and pick the lock on my cell is if you heard my cry for help on the radio.” Raul shrugged. “But maybe you're just sightseeing. So, since the door's open and all, can I go now?”
“You, uh, didn’t introduce yourself, man.”
“Name's Raul. Raul Alfonso Tejada. I'm the mechanic around here.” Raul raised a brow. “Who’re my saviors, then?
“I’m Lucía Perez. This here’s Veronica.”
“Hi!” Veronica greeted him chipperly.
“Hi.” Raul didn’t sound as happy to see them.
“...Well, uh, you can leave, man. Enjoy your freedom.”
Raul sighed heavily as he stood up from his chair. “Alrighty then, I'll just head out. Alone. By myself. Into the dangerous wastes.”
“...You can come along, man.”
Raul threw up his hands. “Thought you’d never ask, boss. Anything's better than staying here.”
“Well, sure. But, uh, I do gotta ask you something.”
“Can we get outta here first?”
“Sure, but, why were you askin’ for help in Spanish? On the radio?”
Raul shrugged. “Last time I pulled that in English, Tabitha knew what I was saying and beat the hell outta me. So this time, I just told her I was advertising or something. She bought it enough to not try and kill me again.”
“Shit. Well, good enough reason as any. By the way, er, we have some other people with us outside.”
“Are you in a gang or something, boss?”
“No. I mean, kinda. Do we count as a gang?” Veronica looked at Luci.
“I mean, we ain’t killin’ or robbin’ no one. So, I guess not.”
“Yeah. So, no.”
“So where are your other friends?”
“Well, Jake and Rob are in the next building over from us. Charon and Boone are guarding the entrance to the compound, making sure the Nightkin don’t come back.”
“Come back?”
“This nice Super Mutant offered to distract them.”
“Nice and Super Mutant are mutually exclusive things to me, boss.”
“Well, he is. And we’re gonna get rid of Tabitha.”
“That’s, um...easier said than done.”
“Why?”
“I do have my guns. I’m not stupid.” Raul headed over to one of the shelves and grabbed a satchel, retrieving two old magnums from inside and loading them. “But I’m not stupid enough to try and use them against Tabitha. This wouldn’t stop her, and even if it could, her little friends would kill me in two seconds.”
“We can handle ‘er. We have some rifles, shotguns.”
“She does too, boss.”
“Well...we’ll see how it goes, huh?”
“Great plan, boss.” Raul stood up. “Ah, well, maybe I’ll have a heart attack before I get shot.”
“Sounds like a plan!”
Luci peeked out of the building before slowly heading out, followed by Raul and Veronica.
“Okay, let’s get Jake and Rob and get rid of that-”
“RAUL!”
They all jumped upon hearing the loud, brutish voice from the building at the end of the road. A large Nightkin with a wig that would be comical under different circumstances burst through the front door, breaking it off of the hinges and stomping over, holding a hunting rifle.
“Ay, mierda,” Raul muttered.
“YOU CAN’T TAKE MY RAUL!” The Nightkin, who Luci assumed was Tabitha, waved her rifle about.
To Luci’s surprise, Raul already had his revolvers out and aimed, even before she readied her pistol. She saw, out of the corner of her eye, that Boone and Charon had taken aim.
“HEY! HEY, EVERYONE, CHILL OUT!”
They all turned to the first building. Jake had burst out, his hands in the air.
“Hey, listen, you just wanted Rhonda back, right? Tabitha?”
“GIVE ME RHONDA!”
“Okay! Rob!”
A Mr. Handy floated out from the doorway and slowly turned to Tabitha.
“R-Rhonda?” Tabitha suddenly lowered her voice and lowered her rifle. “Is that you?”
“It is, Mistress Tabitha. How I've missed you so. This stranger here fixed me up right as rain. Is he a friend of yours?” Rhonda turned to Rob, who nervously looked out of the doorway, then back to Tabitha.
Tabitha marched up to Rob, grabbed his arm, and tugged him out of the doorway. She didn’t seem to harm him, though he yelped when she grabbed him and jumped back when she let him go.
“I... don't know how to thank you for bringing Rhonda back to me, stranger. Here, take this. I won't be needing it anymore.” She held out a key to him, which he tentatively took and pocketed.
“Um, does this mean you won’t be killing us? Me, and um, them?” Rob pointed at the others.
Tabitha laughed suddenly and jarringly loudly. “No, of course not. I...don't know what I'm going to do now with Rhonda back…”
“Mistress Tabitha, we should be heading off. Our journey has been much delayed, but we can catch up if we hurry. Come along, now,” Rhonda urged Tabitha along as it, or she, started to float away down the road.
“Thank you.” Tabitha turned back to Rob once more.
“Y-You’re welcome. Ma’am.”
“I’m coming, Rhonda!” Tabitha jogged over to Rhonda and followed her out of the compound.
They all stood in silence for a long moment. Luci looked at Rob.
“So you repaired that thing?”
“It wasn’t really repairing it, the AI was just set to hibernate. I literally just had to reset it.” Rob sounded irritated, but still shaken.
“So, uh, I’m guessing you’re Raul?” Jake turned to Raul, who had holstered his guns again.
“That’s the name. Don’t wear it out.”
“Nice to meetcha! I’m Jacob Morgan, call me Jake. This is Roberto Gonzalez and ED-E. The guys at the gates are Charon and Boone.”
Raul raised a brow. “Your name is Roberto Gonzalez, boss?”
“What does it look like?”
“It doesn’t sound like it.”
“Well it certainly does look it, doesn’t it, you neep.”
Raul blinked. “What?”
“Whatever.”
“...Okay, boss.”
“So, is Raul tagging along?” Jake questioned.
“Sure looks it. And looks like he’s a quickdraw with them revolvers, too.” Luci grinned and slapped Raul on the back, making him stumble a bit. “Whoops, sorry.”
“Oof. Be careful about slapping around an arthritic old man, boss.”
“Oh, c’mon. I wasn’t slappin’ ya around.”
“Can ghouls get arthritis?” Jake paused to think. “I don’t think-”
“Well, I can.” Raul stood up. “I don’t wanna be here any longer, boss, let’s get outta here.”
By the time they headed out of the compound, it appeared the Nightkin had arrived, only to go with Tabitha on her way down. Neil, however, hadn’t returned.
“...Huh. Did Neil say he was gonna come back up?” Luci looked at the others.
“I mean, I don’t think so, but…” Jake paused. “We should check on him. Maybe he just went back to his shack.”
“Is that the ‘nice mutant’?” Raul looked between him and Luci.
“He really is. I think it’s worth checking on him.”
Rob huffed. “Well, I suppose it is on the way down.”
They headed back down the mountain, where the few Super Mutants left had abandoned their posts. When they and the Nightkin reached the bottom, they appeared to speak to Neil at his shack. Thankfully, he seemed fine. Oddly enough, as they approached his shack and the Nightkin and Super Mutants dispersed, they revealed a human man standing next to Neil. Once the Mutants had dispersed, they began speaking, and only once they arrived at the shack did they stop and turn to them. The man with Neil waved.
“Hey, Neil!” Luci waved at Neil and looked at the man with him. “Who’s this?”
“A friendly human. Like I said, rare in these parts. Any parts, really.” Neil looked at the man.
He was a tall, older man with tanned skin, a grizzled beard and almond-shaped eyes, as well as intricate, dark tattoos around them. He wore a thin duster and a wide, black gambler hat, with tufts of black hair heavily streaked with silver sticking out from under it. He looked like he would have been very handsome when he was younger, and indeed, most of his looks had remained, despite his weathered skin and worn, scarred face.
“Thanks, Neil. And nice to meet you folks. I’m Nathaniel Winnemucca. But you can just call me Nathan.” He tipped his hat politely. He bore a weary, but pleasant voice.
“Nice to meetcha, Nathan.” Luci grinned. “I’m Luci. Lucía Perez. This here’s Veronica, Jake, Charon, Rob, Boone, and Raul.”
“Wow, that’s…quite the party you have here.” Nathan chuckled.
“Well, Rob and Boone here just joined up for the trip up the mountain, and we just rescued Raul.”
“That so? Hope you didn’t get too roughed up, friend.” Nathan nodded to Raul.
“Not too bad, I guess.” Raul shrugged ambivalently.
“Well, I came up here ‘cause I heard the radio broadcast, and I came here just after those Nightkin left to go back up, so Neil told me. I’ve dealt with my fair share of Muties in my time, so I was planning on comin’ up to help ya if me and Neil thought something went wrong. But I guess you had it down pat, huh?”
“Sure did. But thanks for worryin’, man.”
“No problem.” Nathan smiled gently. “You aren’t from around here, huh?”
“Just next door, really. Texas.”
“Ah, so you’re from down South. I’m from up north.”
“That so? Where?”
“Mm, you heard of Arroyo?”
“Arroyo? That’s way up in old Oregon, isn’t it?” Jake questioned.
“Mmhm.” Nathan chuckled. “Not gonna lie, kid, I wouldna made it all the way here nowadays if I hadn’t hitched some rides from NCR folk. I did way back when, but I’m not as young as I used to be. Plus, my limp didn’t use to be so bad.”
“Limp?”
“Aw, you can’t notice if I’m standin’ still. Wearing pants, that is.” Nathan pulled up his jeans over his left boot to reveal that at least his lower leg was a prosthetic, made of wood.
Neil leaned over and squinted at his leg. “Hm.”
“Oh man, are you okay?” Veronica looked at the prosthetic.
“Pfft, yeah, I’m fine now. Like I said, just got a limp.” He released his pant leg and jimmied it back over his boot.
“How didja manage that?” Luci looked back at Nathan.
“Well, let’s just say I had a good reason to be concerned about what a Super Mutant could do to you folks.”
“Jesus.”
“Jesus is right. Anyway.” Nathan looked back at Neil. “You said Jacobstown is up to the Northwest, right?”
Neil nodded. “Right. I’ve heard most follow a highway out of old Northwest Vegas through the mountains.”
“Alright, thanks. Maybe I’ll pay a visit sometime.”
“I’m sure you would be welcomed there.” Neil turned to Luci and the others and nodded. “You, as well. I think it would be good for some of the others there to get better acquainted with humans. Humans that will treat them well, anyway.”
“Then I s’pose I’ll head up that way once my business in Vegas is over.”
Nathan raised a brow. “You have business in Vegas?”
“Sure. Do you?”
“Not particularly. Just be careful around there. Doesn’t seem much better than New Reno, and that place was a shithole, trust me.”
Luci grinned. “Yeah? Why’s that?”
“Well, I once got my damn car stolen there, for starters.”
“You had a car?” Jake stepped past Luci, staring at Nathan in disbelief.
“Heh, sure. Cost a hell of a lot to get it fixed, though, and I ended up just getting shitfaced and crashing it a couple years later anyhow.” Nathan shrugged. “So, the only lesson I got for you is to not drive drunk.” He looked at his watch. “Alright. I should probably get going. Hope I see you folks around.” He smiled pleasantly and tipped his hat again before leaving.
Rob squinted after him. “...He looks familiar.”
“Have you met him?” Jake looked at Rob.
“...No, I don’t believe so. But I have definitely seen him somewhere.”
“...So, where?” Boone pressed.
Rob scoffed. “I don’t know, or I’d say it!”
“You brought it up.”
Luci turned back to Neil, choosing to ignore Rob. “So, what’re you gonna do now, Neil?”
“I still have a job to do here. Some Mutants may have heard Tabitha's broadcasts and are headed here even as we speak. I'll remain and direct any who show up toward Jacobstown, where they'll be much better off. I’m sure you already saw, but the others are already on their way as we speak.”
“So…” Luci looked back up at the mountain. “What’s gonna happen to this place?”
Neil followed her gaze. “Who knows? It might stay abandoned, get used as a base for raiders, or even become another colony for mutants.” He turned back to her. “The future is not written, human, and it is foolish to squint at what cannot be seen.”
Luci thought that was worth remembering, indeed.
“Good luck, then, Neil.”
“And to you as well, human. I don’t know what your business is in Vegas, but it’s never good. I get a feeling you’ll need luck.”

Chapter Text

“So, Arcade, I wanted to ask if you’d accompany me to the Tops.” Guy questioned as Arcade got his lab coat on.
“Hm? Why?”
“Billy and Lucille got me thinking. Maybe I could convince whoever runs their theater to hire them.”
“...Why?”
“Well, they’re both clearly very talented, aren’t they?” Guy scratched Chico’s head before standing up from his bed. “I figure they deserve a big break.”
Arcade sighed. “Sure. Why not?”
“And after that, I was planning on speaking on seeing if anyone in Freeside can resolve the Followers' supply issues.”
“You might want to change before we do that.” Arcade added, following Guy out the door.
“Why’s that?”
“Walking around Freeside in a nice suit is like putting a ‘rob me’ sign on your back.”
“...Good idea.”

They entered the Tops once again to find Swank speaking in a low voice to a man in a checkered suit at the front desk. Swank noticed them enter and stood up, grinning. The other man with him, who had hair so gelled it looked more like it was made of plastic, as well as a tacky checkered suit, stood up, looking at them more suspiciously.
“Hey, baby, you’re back!” Swank leaned on the counter. “You know the rules about the straps, though.”
“I certainly do.” Guy placed his pistol on the desk. Arcade looked around and hesitantly placed his plasma defender next to it.
“Hey hey hey, nice and easy.” Swank took the guns and handed them to another Chairman, who whisked them away somewhere.
“Who’s your friend? I assume you’re one of the Chairmen?” Guy smiled politely at the other man at the counter, who had lit a cigarette.
“One of the chairmen?” The other man scoffed.
“Remember I told ya that me and Benny run this place, Guy, baby? This here is the man himself!” Swank was still grinning, but Guy saw that it was more strained than before.
“Well, nice to meet you, then, Mr. Benny.” Guy nodded.
“Yeah, sure. Swank says you’re a good customer, so you’re good in my book.” Benny took a drag of his cigarette. It didn’t look like any cigarette Guy had seen before, and smelled…peculiar. Probably some fancy, pre-war brand.
“Hey, yo, Benny, you’ve gotta give me back my lighter at some point, huh?” Swank chuckled in an exaggerated, strained manner.
“Ah, shut up, Swank. Not my fault some junkie stole mine.”
“Hey, hey, not tryna start shit. Just askin’.” Swank turned to Guy. “So, what’re you comin’ in for, pal? Eats, gambling? ‘Cause, uh, we still don’t got any suites available.”
“We actually came to speak to whoever runs the theater around here.”
“Theater?” Swank glanced at Benny. Benny shrugged indifferently, despite the mild panic Guy saw on Swank’s face just before he fully looked back at him. “Uh, sure, Tommy Torini runs The Aces, but our line-up’s been a little, uh…dry, lately.”
“I see. I actually wanted to ask if you’re looking to sign on new talent.”
“That so?”
“Are you looking to sign up?” Benny suddenly interjected.
“Oh, no, not myself. Now, anyway. Just looking to direct some talent here. Why do you ask?”
“You look like the guy we used t’have singing here.” Benny tossed his cigarette on the ground and stamped it out, looking uncharacteristically contemplative, for a Chairman, anyway. “...Gone now, though.”
“Jesus, Benny, what’d I say about putting those things out on the ground?” Swank chided.
“Yeah, yeah, I get it. Anyway, I’m beat.” Benny quickly left. Something about what he said had put Swank in a similarly solemn mood.
“...Are you okay?” Guy questioned gently.
“Huh? Oh, yeah, I’m great, don’t worry about it!” Swank grinned again. “Just head on upstairs to the Aces and talk to Tommy, he’ll be happy to have the help, baby! Ring-a-ding!”
Guy still did not understand what that meant.

Thankfully for them, the Aces was clearly marked by the glowing sign just outside the doors leading into it. It consisted of a dining area with a bar to the right and the theater opposite the doors. Judging from the fact that the lights were off in the theater, it looked like it was closed for now, though there were still some guests sitting at the tables. Sitting around a table near the bar was a group of sharply dressed men in black suits, with the exception of one in a white, pin-stripe suit, who bore a striking resemblance to another pre-war singer Guy was familiar with, minus the eyepatch he was wearing. Guy approached the man in the white suit, assuming from his rather authoritative air that he was Tommy Torini. He noticed Guy as he came over.
“Hey hey! Welcome, welcome, welcome to the finest entertainment experience in New Vegas! My name is Tommy Torini, and how can I make your day?” He stood up and looked Guy up and down. “Well, maybe you can make mine! Join the rad pack, and we’d be the closest to the Rat Pack we’ve ever been, eh, Mr. Martin?”
“Heheh. I suppose so, but I’m not interested in performing, myself.” Guy held out his hand. “Guy de Devaul, at your service. I hear your talent pool’s run a little dry.”
Tommy shook his hand enthusiastically. “Well, sure, baby, Tommy's always looking for new talent to bring to the Aces. Tell you what, you see any good acts while you're out wandering, give them my card. If they work out, I'll give you a 3% cut of the door. Just swing back by as you recruit folks, I'll get you your bread.”
“5%, and it’s a deal, Mr. Torini.”
“Ooh, a sharp customer!” Tommy nodded approvingly. “alright, alright, 5% it is.”
“Thank you, Mr. Torini.” Guy nodded. “Anyway, I came here because I already have two acts lined up.”
Tommy raised a brow. “Oh, is that so?”
“Yes, sir. A comedian, Billy Knight, with some fantastic one-liners, and a singer, Lucille Berry. She had the most beautiful voice I’ve ever heard, let me tell you.”
“That so?” Tommy placed a thoughtful hand on his chin and nodded. “Sounds like just what we need. Tell ya what, go out and let ‘em know that Torini and the Rad Pack want to see what they got here. Give ‘em my card so I know it’s them.” Tommy handed Guy a few cards with the Ace’s logo on one side, and Tommy’s name on the back.
“Sounds good. I’ll be right back, Mr. Torini.”

Billy was outside doing his usual schtick, though it didn’t seem much more successful than last Guy had seen him. Guy approached him just as he was finishing up a joke.
“You again?” Billy seemed a little irritated to be interrupted. “You should meet my bookie, you have something in common - every time I talk to you, I lose caps!”
“Well, you’re about to earn back that loss. Tommy Torini at The Aces said that he’d like to have you on stage.”
Billy blinked, taking a minute to process what Guy had said. “He did?! Tell him I'll do it for a hundred a night! No! Fifty! No, twenty! Ten!”
“Woah, woah, Billy. Don’t sell yourself short. You’re worth much more than that.” Guy held out the card.
Billy took a deep breath, calming himself before he took the card. “Whoa, geez, what was I thinking? You're right, I oughta go in there with a cool head, tell him how much I'm really worth.” He grinned. “Sweet daisies, here I come!”
Arcade turned to Guy as he watched Billy grab what few things he had and bolt over to the Tops. “...Did you just tell him that to get a better cut?”
“No!” Guy paused. “Well, partially.”
“Yeah, should’ve known. Should we go let Lucille know, then?”
Like Billy, Lucille was still at her usual business, and sounding just as good as before. Also like Billy, however, she didn’t seem to have many caps in the hat she’d placed next to her. She seemed to notice Guy when he came through the gate, but he let her finish up her song before he approached.
“Hey, there you are, Guy!” She smiled affably. “Good to see you again. I mean, I haven’t been much more successful in this spot, but I’m not doing worse than before, at least. And I don’t have to deal with that little prick back there.”
“Well, how would you like to actually be more successful?”
She raised a brow. “And how do you figure that?”
“I told Tommy Torini at the Aces about you, and he said you like what they need.” Guy held out the card.
Lucille took the card, staring at it in disbelief, before looking back at Guy. “Are you serious?!”
“Sure am.”
“Holy shit, Guy, I can’t thank you enough!” Lucille beamed, looking like she was about to tear up when she stood up, clutching the card.
“It’s no problem, Lucille. Just remember, don’t sell yourself short. It’s only a good venue for as long as they can pay you as much as you deserve.”
Lucille nodded, looking more determined than before. “Right. Of course, you’re right. I’ll make sure Torini knows I drive a hard bargain, even for the Tops. Thank you so much.”
She hugged Guy, much to his surprise, before stepping back and grabbing her bag, waving them goodbye as she headed through the gate, to the Tops.
“...Sounds like a good deal for them.” Arcade nodded. “At least someone’s gonna be happy here. Hopefully.”
“Well, that’s what matters, huh?”
“It is. It isn’t feasible most of the time, but…I guess it is worth trying. So. Shall we go talk to Tommy again?

Swank looked almost worse than when Guy saw him last, speaking to Benny. He was still put together and smiling politely to anyone entering, but the tension behind his eyes was straining even more against his pleasant expression.
“Hey, you’re back, baby!” Swank took Guy’s pistol and Arcade’s plasma defender, both of them having gotten used to the routine. “The broad and the smart-mouth comin’ in with Torini’s card, I’m guessing you pointed them here?”
“Sure did. The Aces won’t be as empty as before, at least.”
“Sure won’t! Ring a ding, baby, you’re good for business!” Swank grinned, the tension lessening in his face a bit.
“Aw, thank you, Swank.” Guy smiled in turn. “Say, is something wrong?”
“Eh?” Swank waved his hand dismissively. “Hey, don’t worry about that, baby. Our guests are here to have a good time, right? No reason to talk about anything else!”
Guy usually wouldn’t care enough to press further, but he was definitely interested in whatever was going on with Swank’s friend. He leaned casually on the counter.
“Swank, I’ve worked in more lounges and bars than I can count, and trust me, once you’re in the biz, you get very used to keeping secrets. I’m just a little concerned, and whatever’s going on, it can stay between us.”
Swank paused, eyeing Arcade. “...Between us?”
Guy turned to Arcade. “Why don’t you get yourself something to drink at the Aces?” He winked. “My treat.”
Arcade, surprisingly, got a little red, but mostly kept his composure. “Uh. Sure. Yeah.”
He awkwardly headed over to the Aces, followed by Chico.
“...What’s going with that?” Swank pointed after him.
“Oh, nothing. Anyway.”
“You don’t think I’m-”
“My concern is strictly platonic, Swank. Go on.”
Swank hesitated again, looking around and speaking in a lower voice. “So…listen, it’s, uh…It’s just about Benny.”
“Your friend from earlier?”
“Yeah. Flashy suit.”
“Do you think he’s okay?”
“Well-” Swank sighed. “I dunno, that’s the problem. Don’t get me wrong - I don’t figure him for a rat or anything like that. He’d never…” Swank paused again. “N-Nah, he wouldn’t pull one over on me. I’m sure of it. It’s just that he ain’t been around for the past few days, ya dig? I asked him what he was up to, and he just told me it wasn’t any of my business. Usual Benny. I’m just a little worried, is all. Usually even he’s not this clammed up.”
“Do you want me to talk to him?”
“I dunno. I don’t really wanna push it, ya dig?”
“I dig. But I won’t tell him you put me up to it.”
“...Yeah. Yeah, okay, give it a shot. But, uh, don’t push it too far.”
“I got it. Where is he now?”
“He’s probably at one of the tables by the Aces, on the balcony. Likes to keep an eye on the Casino.”
“Alright.” Guy stood up.
“Wait, how much didja want for it?”
“Oh, it’s nothing. I’d never charge someone who just wants to reconcile with a friend.”
“Aw, thanks, pal, that’s real nice of ya!”
“No problem. I’ll tell you how it goes.”
Guy headed into the Tops and up to the balcony. Just as Swank had said, Benny was sitting upstairs at one of the round tables with a cigarette and a whisky, surrounded by suited, well-armed men. Guy approached cautiously. Benny noticed him and turned to him irritably.
“Who the hell are you?”
“I’m, er, the customer Swank mentioned. I’m helping out at the Aces at the moment.” Guy approached and held out his hand, making Benny’s bodyguards tense up. “Guy de Devaul. I believe you were Benny?”
Benny narrowed his eyes, looking at Guy’s hand, then at his face. “Oh, yeah. The singer.”
“...I never said I was a singer.” Guy drew his hand back awkwardly. “But, heh, you guessed right.”
“You look like one.” The way Benny said it didn’t make it sound like a compliment.
Guy decided to take it as one. “Thank you! Heh, I do try to take care of myself. You would understand.”
“Yeah?” Benny took a drag of his cigarette.
“Of course. Even I can’t say my hair and my suit are that on point.”
“Uh-huh. What do you want?”
“Hm?”
“You’re not talkin’ to me for shits and giggles. What do you want?”
“Well, I just wanted to ask if anything’s wrong, is all.”
Benny leaned forward on the table. “How d’you mean?”
“You seem a little tense. It doesn’t seem right for a man to have to behave like that when he’s in his own casino.”
“I behave however the fuck I want in my own casino.”
“Oh, no, of course, sir, you’re allowed to do whatever you like, but…well, it might put your friends here on edge. I noticed some of the Chairmen looked a bit worried when they saw you.”
“That’s their fuckin’ problem, not mine, ya dig? Now let me enjoy my goddamn whisky or I’ll have you and poindexter thrown out, since neither of ya seem to want to leave me the fuck alone.”
Guy took that as his cue to leave.
Arcade was waiting at one of the tables in the Aces with a bottle of Sunset Sarsaparilla, scratching Chico behind the ears. He looked up and stood up from his chair when Guy entered.
“Hey. So…”
“I don’t suppose you spoke to Benny?” Guy raised a brow.
“Oh. That.” Arcade sighed. “Uh. Yeah.”
Guy pinched the bridge of his nose. “Oh, god. What happened?”
“Nothing too bad. I was getting a Sarsaparilla at the bar, and he pushed me out of the way when he wanted to order a whisky. So I called him out on it, and he got, uh, angry.”
“How angry?”
“Not angry enough to get us thrown out. I know when to back off. He did go on about how he probably ‘gets more action’ than me, and how he apparently had relations with a woman who was part of the Followers. If he blew more hot air, he’d be…I dunno, a heater.” Arcade shrugged after a moment of Guy’s silence. “Nevermind. That’s what I get for trying to be funny.”
Guy sighed heavily. “Well, let’s just avoid him for now. He’s not particularly willing to speak to either of us right now.”
“Why were you trying to talk to him?”
“Oh, Swank was worried about him. He just wanted me to see if I could figure out what was up.”
“And I’m guessing you didn’t get anything out of him?”
“Not really. But, at least I’ve got good news for Torini.”
They headed over next to the stage, where Torini was talking to the group of men he’d been drinking with earlier. One of them brought his attention to Guy, prompting him to turn around, grinning.
“Hey, hey! Guy! These new acts are out of sight, baby! We're gonna be bringing in the caps like a Nuka-Cola bottling plant!” Tommy clapped his hands together enthusiastically. “We just had them play a little midday show, and they were on fire!”
“Yeah. So, first off, how’s Billy doing?”
“That comedian, you mean? Yeah, he was a hell of a haggler. Cost me a pretty cap - hope he's worth it. Here's your 5% for him.” Tommy handed over a pouch of caps.
“...And Lucille?”
“Right, the singer! Here’s the 5% for her.” Tommy produced another pouch of caps from his pockets. “Man, you weren’t kidding, she’s got pipes of velvet and the looks to match it! The night crowd’s gonna love her!”
“Glad to hear it, Torini.”
“Yeah, for sure. Takes the pressure off the Rad Pack, here.” Tommy slapped the shoulder of one of the men with him. They did seem just as happy with the development as he was.
“Well, good luck with your next performance, boys.” Guy nodded approvingly as he and Arcade headed back out of the theater.
Swank seemed to see the disappointment on Guy’s face when he approached the front desk again.
“No dice?”
Guy shook his head. “No dice. He certainly does seem on edge, though.”
“Damn.” Swank sighed and stood up at the desk. “You didn’t, ah…”
“Don’t worry, I didn’t bring you up.”
“Well, thanks for trying, pal. Worth a shot.”
Guy looked at his watch as they stepped out of the Tops. Arcade stopped and turned to him as he did.
“So. Supply deal?”
“Right. After I change, of course.”

“So, who did Julie mention?”
“Well, Ralph at Mick and Ralph’s. He’s not a bad man, so I think he’d want to help. But whether or not he can…it’s…doubtful, in my opinion, I mean, I don’t think he has much expertise in making chems. Or sourcing them at all, for that matter.”
“I’d be inclined to agree.” Guy held open the door out to Freeside for Arcade and Chico before following them. “So…if we’re counting who can either make chems or reliably source them from someone who can…”
“I would really prefer we don’t do business with the Atomic Wrangler.”
“I understand...but...it’s worth a try.”
“No.”
“Arcade, I’m sure they don’t...straight up sell drugs.”
“Yes, they do. It’s just a little on the down-low than their alcohol. And the alcohol is hardly better than the chems, anyhow. I’ve already told you, the Atomic Wrangler is an awful place. It is an awful place for awful people who don’t have enough money to get to the Strip.”
“Please. We told Julie we would find someone.”
“We’re going to have to talk to James. I mean, both him and Francine are dreadful to talk to. But he’s worse.”
“I’ll talk to him. Come on.”
“...Fine. Only because this is probably the best option we have.”
“Thank you. Now, come on. Let’s get this over with.”
The Atomic Wrangler looked the same as it did last they were there. Miserable, and run-down, with miserable, run-down people inside. The man with the white suit behind the bar, presumably James, was still there. His sister, Francine, the woman in the black suit and red tie, was near the back, preparing some drinks, probably for the drunk man slumped on the counter on a stool.
As Guy approached, he got a better look at the Garretts. James was a man with an angular face and combed back brown hair, waiting at the bar in a wrinkled, slightly stained white suit. Francine shared his square face but long blonde hair pulled back in a ponytail, and wearing a wrinkled black suit as she was preparing drinks, probably for the drunk man slumped on the counter on a stool. They were both obviously trying, and failing, to look professional.
James noticed them heading for the bar and sighed.
“Hey, bud. Here to preach about our awful establishment? I haven’t seen you around that much. What’s your name? Like, A...Aaron?”
“Arcade.”
“Yeah. Weird name.” James looked at Guy. “And I’m gonna take a guess and say, you’re with him.”
“Mmhm. And if you liked his name, you’ll love mine.” Guy smiled and held his hand out over the counter. “Guy de Devaul. Nice to meet you, Mr. James Garrett.”
James shook his hand. “Yeah, Guy. James is fine. What d’ya need?”
“The Followers are looking to strike up a trade deal.”
Francine audibly snorted as she set down a drink in front of the man on the stool, then returned to other business.
“Really now? This is news.” James paused to think, leaning on the bar. “We could possibly supply what they need, but they would need to supply us in kind. They have the tech know-how to make our stills work more efficiently. Purer alcohol means we can get our customers drunk quicker. Getting our customers drunk quicker means more caps spent at the tables and stuffing slots, if you know what I mean. Plus, the extra alcohol can serve as surgical disinfectant for their needs. The Followers are a good lot. They've stitched up our boys in the past. I certainly wouldn’t mind lending a hand.”
“Didn’t sound like you thought that of us, James,” Arcade replied bitterly.
“That’s because I don’t like you.”
“The feeling is mutual, I assure you.”
“Arcade,” Guy snapped under his breath, then turned back to James, “That’s very kind of you, James. I’ll let Julie know, then come back and deliver her response.”
“Thanks. I’ll be waiting. Don’t, uh...do much else. You free to do other work?”
“I’m afraid I am not right now.”
“...Yeah, alright, Guy. See ya, then.”
Guy and Arcade headed for the door.
“He wasn’t so bad. He actually wanted to help the Followers. He sounded genuine when he said it,” Guy commented enthusiastically.
“I don’t know. This entire business never sat right with me.”

“Howdy, Julie.” Guy smiled politely as he and Arcade approached her in one of the tents, set up more for paperwork and storage than bedrest.
She appeared to have been speaking with another Follower about their supplies, and excused herself before turning to him and Arcade, smiling in turn.
“Hey, good to see you two again. Have you made any progress on the supply deal?”
“Yes, I’ve actually found some people willing to collaborate.”
Julie’s face fell immediately. She wasn’t particularly happy, but still kept her composure, mostly betraying her frustration by furrowing her brow and crossing her arms. “They supply Freeside with drugs and liquor. From my point of view they're just better-organized pushers. Upgrading their stills would increase their supply of liquor and chems. How does that help Freeside?”
“With more supplies, you could expand your operations here. The Garrett Twins are always going to do their thing, but with how much competition they have, they’re certainly not going to be gaining much more influence than they already have.”
Julie paused to think about what he’d said before nodding slowly and hesitantly. “Good point. We wouldn't be paying anything for their supplies, just a portion of our food waste to make ethanol. We get food from nearby wasteland farmers in exchange for medical services, so we could put our caps back into helping Freeside.” She looked back up at Guy. “Tell the Garrets we'll keep their stills running if they provide us with supplies. Thank you for arranging this. You've been a godsend.”
“Of course, Julie, it’s no problem. Of course, I’ll send you whatever more supplies I can find on top of that.”
“That’s always appreciated.”
“Say, I wanted to ask if you know of any good places to scavenge around here.”
“Oh, yes, you’d need somewhere to look if you want to get any supplies for us.” Julie thought for a moment. “Let’s see…There’s the old Sunset Sarsaparilla HQ just southwest of here. And, I know it is exactly a good place to scavenge, but the people in Westside could always use some more caps in circulation. The junk scavengers there might have something you could turn around for a profit.”
“I see! I’ve been so busy, I completely forgot about the HQ.” Guy nodded in agreement.
“Right. Uh. Isn’t Southwest of here Fiend territory?” Arcade noted with a tinge of worry.
“It’s not too bad around the HQ, from what I’ve heard. There’s not much there they want. But do be careful.”
“Of course. Arcade’s safety is my first priority.” Guy beamed, patting Arcade on the back.
“Heh. Of course. You two make a good team, you know.”
“I’d say we do!”
Arcade cracked a smile. “Yeah, I guess so.”

Guy sang softly under his breath as they walked along the dusty road west just outside of Freeside, the dust and sand creating swirling clouds around their ankles as their boots scuffed it up. They had been quiet for a bit.
“What is it you’re singing? I’ve been trying to tell what you’re saying, but I can’t quite make it out,” Arcade questioned suddenly.
“I doubt you could. It’s Spanish.”
“Oh, right. I thought it sounded familiar. You speak Spanish?”
“I should think so. The only remotely intact books I could find were textbooks, and I found a few about Spanish. It also helped that one of my father’s men cared enough to teach me, and that my father’s rather erratic behavior was at least made comprehensible when I could understand some of his rambling. Mostly I use it to sing, nowadays.”
“So, what’s the song you were singing?”
“Aquellos Ojos Verdes.”
“And what exactly does that mean?”
“Those Green Eyes. I love sappy love songs.”
“Hm.”
“What, they’re not to your liking?”
“I don’t listen to the lyrics very much. I’m not much of a romantic person. But, I wanted to ask about the lyrics. Just because I’m interested.”
“Are you sure? If one thing I’ve learned from these songs, it’s that Mexican songwriters only put out the sappiest love songs.”
“I’m sure.”
Guy cleared his throat. “Those green eyes, with their calm look, leave in my soul the eternal thirst of love. Yearning for caresses-”
“Okay, yeah, stop. Please.”
Guy chuckled. “I told you.”
“But you can sing it. It’s fine by me.”
“Why, thank you.”
Guy continued a little louder and clearer than before. He could just make out Arcade humming.

Not long after they passed the NCR sharecropper farm, populated by rather disgruntled-looking farmers and bored troopers, they came across Camp McCarran along the left side of the road. Guy knew it as the NCR military’s main base of operations, and for it being set up inside of an old, pre-war airport, making it ideal for keeping vehicles, particularly supply trucks and what planes they had managed to get working again. Oddly enough, they didn’t see any supply trucks outside - likely due to their problems with the Fiends. Guy was a little concerned that it was bad enough to come to that.
Across from the Camp lay an old motel, where a couple of people seemed to still be living, likely to take advantage of the protection the adjacent NCR troopers provided. From there, they headed towards the highway just past the Motel and continued up north.
Once the highway sloped up, it wasn’t hard to see the Sunset Sarsaparilla HQ from past its half-crumbled walls. The large building was immediately identifiable by the wooden decoration around its front doors, in the shape of a giant Sunset Sarsaparilla bottle with the doorways carved into the side.
“That’s…gaudy.” Arcade commented, looking up at the giant wooden bottle as they approached.
“Aw, I think it’s fun.” Guy knocked on the wood as they stopped next to it.
“So…what do you think is in here?”
“Probably Festus. Whoever he is.”
“Well, you already know that my bet’s on robot.”
“Heh. I’ll keep that in mind.”
The main lobby of the HQ was dimly lit by a few, flickering lamps that were somehow still functioning. The building was thick with dust floating about, clouding the air, and making them cough as they entered. Guy waved his hand in front of his face as he caught his breath.
“Oof. Is this safe?”
“Seems like it. Just dust.” Arcade cleared his throat and stepped out in the main lobby, staring at the left wall. “Well, for once, my bet was right.”
Guy followed his gaze to the robot built into a little stall against the left wall, designed after the doors into a saloon. The robot was clearly supposed to look like a cartoon cowboy, though its appearance had grown more grotesque after its arm had come off and one of its eyes had popped out.
“Jesus. That is…”
“Creepy.” Arcade affirmed. “Yes, it really is.”
“Let’s hope he still works.” Guy walked up to the stall and knocked it on its side. “Hello? Anyone here?”
He jumped as the robot stood up slightly and whirred to life.
“Howdy, pardner! Welcome to the headquarters of the Sunset Sarsaparilla Company. Wrangle up a stool and listen to ol' Festus jaw a while.” The volume and quality of his recorded lines shifted as he spoke. “If you and ol' Festus are old pals, say a command now. Otherwise, say ‘Pleased to meetcha’ and we'll get acquainted.”
“Pleased to meet you?” Arcade said hesitantly.
“I'm sorry, I didn't quite understand that. Could you repeat it?”
“Not quite.” Guy turned to Festus. “Pleased to meetcha.”
“New in town, pardner?”
“Are you serious?” Arcade commented incredulously as Festus continued.
“Well, let ol' Festus give you the lay of the land. If you're here to redeem your Sunset Sarsaparilla Stars, dump 'em into the slot in the barrel below and I'll count 'em up. If you don't know what Sunset Sarsaparilla Stars are and think ol' Festus is just shooting his mouth off, say 'Star Info'. If you're here to challenge ol' Festus to a game of Lucky Horseshoes, say 'I feel lucky'. Lastly, if you're here about the health advisory that aired on channel 6 recently, say 'Silly Ol' Advisory.'”
“...Star info.”
“Ah, new to the hunt, are you? Well listen carefully, as ol' Festus don't like to repeat himself. Select Sunset Sarsaparilla bottles will have special caps with blue stars on them. These caps are known as Sunset Sarsaparilla Stars. Why are these stars there, and what do they mean? Nobody knows! Except maybe ol' Festus, hee hee. Rustle up enough of them and you can win a prize! So get out there, and start drinking Sunset Sarsaparilla!”
“Silly old advisory.” Arcade chimed in again.
“I'm sorry, I didn't quite understand that. Could you repeat it?”
“Silly ol’ advisory.” Guy repeated.
“I'm sorry, I didn't quite understand that. Could you repeat it?”
“Is he broken?”
“One more time. Whoever designed him probably just didn’t want us to hear what he has to say.”
“Silly ol’ advisory.”
“While Sunset Sarsaparilla is perfectly safe, a recent independent study - whose validity is currently being challenged - revealed the following: Excessive ingestion of sarsaparilla can lead to deleterious effects including, but not limited to: kidney damage, nausea, digital numbness, anxiety…”
“Oh my god.” Guy mumbled.
“I think I know why they didn’t want anyone hearing this.”
“Should I be drinking that stuff?”
“I mean, if nothing’s happened yet.”
“...and halitosis.” Festus finally finished. “Note that you'd have to drink a heap of Sunset Sarsaparilla to match the quantities used in the study. How much, you ask? A lot. A whole helluva lot. In fact, you'd have to get full as a tick on Sunset Sarsaparilla to even come close. Anyway, thanks for stopping by, partner! And keep drinking Sunset Sarsaparilla!”
“...I guess I’ll trust Festus?”
“I guess so. So, are you gonna see if you have enough caps?”
“No. I know it’s at least 50, and I definitely don’t have that much. Goodbye, Festus.”
“Sorry to see you go so soon. Be sure to drink a Sunset Sarsaparilla for me!” Festus shut off once again.
“So, I assume we’re searching the building?” Arcade slung his plasma rifle off his shoulder.
“You assume right.” Guy drew his own rifle.
They headed through the door behind the front desk and into a bathroom next to another set of doors, where they found a pile of ashes.
“...Oh.”
“Looks like someone got vaporized.” Arcade kneeled down next to the body and picked up a small pouch of caps. “Ew. Anyway, we should probably assume the robots here aren’t gonna be too happy to see us.”
“That is a…safe assumption, I should think.”
They headed back out into the hall to the other set of doors, leading to a small break room out back and a backdoor to the building. Not much to be found, other than some loose caps scattered about.
As they headed back out to the lobby, Chico turned to the door on the right wall and pinned back his ears, growling.
“I assume the robots are there.” Guy turned to Arcade. “Any EMP grenades?”
“Nope. I would’ve thought you had some.”
“Not recently.” Guy sighed. “Okay. I’ll cover you, try to see if my bullets can punch through them. But your rifle’s probably going to be more effective.”
“Got it.” Arcade took up position next to the door.
Guy took the other side and whistled. “Chico, here. Behind me.”
Chico followed his lead, staying just behind his legs.
Guy opened the door from the side and peeked into the hallway. Inside was a protectron, emitting some kind of grinding, staticy sound that was likely it's broken voice box. It clunkily turned around, saw Guy, and shot a laser that thankfully, just missed him. He fired off a shot at its glass head before hiding back behind the wall. Arcade finished it off with a couple of quick shots from his plasma rifle.
“Jeez. Looks like it was in bad shape already.” Arcade commented, stepping out into the hallway and pausing. “Did you hear that?”
“Sounds like there’s a few more.” Guy kneeled down next to the protectron. “I think they’re well worth getting rid of. Might be able to find some intact parts in them.”

There wasn’t much else to find in the factory, other than the hardly functioning robots, the damaged supply lines, a mysterious, sturdy and heavily locked door, and a few terminals Arcade didn’t quite have the expertise to break into. They did manage to salvage a few batteries from the robots, as well as some conductors around the building. After their salvaging there was done, they continued Northwest to Westside.
“So. What do you know about Westside?” Guy questioned as they walked.
“Westside?” Arcade paused. “I was there a year or two ago. The Followers’ base of operations is in the Old Mormon Fort, but we try to get some people out to Westside. God knows the people there need it. I think…” Arcade thought for a moment before continuing. “Right, it was…Anderson. A Follower. I think he was there helping out their farming efforts. It’ll be good to check in on how that’s going.”
“And I suppose we can see if we can do anything to help him.” Guy added positively.

They soon came within sight of the scrap metal walls surrounding Westside, built between the densely packed buildings and hidden past further barricades made of sandbags and stacked up old cars. As they passed by a motel on their way to the gate, Guy spotted a surprisingly successful-looking garden built just behind it.
“Looks like Anderson’s been successful.” Guy noted, looking at the rows of growing maize.
“Sure does. I guess he solved their water supply problem.”
They pushed through the gates, ignoring the armored men and women, presumably the town’s militia, eyeing them as they entered.
Westside didn’t look to be in much better condition than Freeside, but, on the other hand, it certainly wasn’t worse, and the farms they saw inside, just left of the entrance, seemed to be in as good of condition as the ones outside. To the right lay a liquor store, with its neon sign still mostly intact.
“So, do you remember where Anderson was?”
“I think he was in the Casa Madrid apartments. I don’t remember where that was, though.”
“I don’t suppose we could ask a local?”
“Y’mean Marco’s place?”
They turned to the man who had spoken to them, leaning against the terrace of the building to their right. He was an asian man of slight build, and curious-looking in that he was somewhat better dressed than most of the other locals, with a long, thin black jacket, a stained dress shirt, and a dark fedora. The strangest thing about him, however, was the slender, curved blade sheathed on his belt.
“...I suppose so?” Guy wasn’t sure who Marco was.
The man grinned. “Y’sure you’re not just goin’ for the whores?”
“Fairly sure.”
He stood up. “Hm. You comin’ from Vegas?”
“Yes? Why do you ask?”
“Nothin’. I think I heard of you.” The man shrugged. “Down the street to your left, and to the right. Trust me, you won’t miss Marco and his little buddy.”
“...Okay? Thank you.”
“You’re very welcome. If ya really wanna thank me, spend some caps at the co-op, or, if you’re more interested in personally paying me back, that alley behind the water cistern. I’ve got a little weapons shop set up there, if you’re interested.”
Guy watched him leave, tensing up a bit as he noticed that the man was missing his pinky and ring fingers on his left hand. He wasn’t sure if it meant what he thought it did.
He decided to ignore it for the moment, and turned to Arcade. “Who do you suppose Marco’s little buddy is?”
“No idea. But at least…whoever that was seemed…well-intentioned.”
“I think I will pay a visit to his little shop, in that case. I could always use some extra ammo, if he’s got it.” Guy pat Arcade on the back and headed down the street to their left. “But, first, we speak to Anderson.”
The Casa Madrid building was made obvious by the once lit sign hanging on the side of the building, and by the presence of whom Guy assumed was Marco and his little buddy. The little buddy was, in fact, not so little, owing to his being a Super Mutant that watched them intently as they approached. Marco himself was sitting and napping on an old plastic chair just outside the apartments. He woke up when the Super Mutant greeted Guy in a rather stilted, slurred manner.
“Ngh. Hi.” He held up his hand, making Chico back away behind Guy.
“...Hello.” Guy smiled politely and waved back. “Uh…who are you?”
“Mahsohfabish.”
“...Okay. Pleasure to meet you. I’m Guy.”
“Ba peasure is ah mah, Ga.”
“Uh, are you having trouble speaking?” Arcade questioned hesitantly.
“Mmhm.” The Super Mutant opened his mouth and pointed inside. Upon inspection, it appeared that all that was left of his tongue was a stump. “I have bo go bow. Goobye!”
“Oh, uh, goodbye.”
Guy stepped aside as “Mahsohfabish” lumbered past him and down the street.
Marco chuckled from his seat. “I see you met Mean Sonofabitch.”
“...That’s his name?” Guy questioned, half in disbelief.
“Yep. That’s what he’s taken to, anyway.” Marco stretched his arms and sat up. “Anyway. Welcome to the Casa Madrid - cheapest, cleanest whores in all New Vegas. If you want to know the rates for poon, talk to the whores.” He chuckled again.
“...I see. Does anyone named Anderson live here?”
“Hm?” Marco looked at Arcade, particularly his coat, then nodded knowingly. “Ooh, I get it. Come to check on him?”
“We are. How’s he been?” Arcade asked.
“Pretty good, I should think. The co-op’s been running real well with his involvement.”
“You should think?”
“Yeah. I mean, he’s quiet. But he always is, so it’s not too out of the ordinary.” Marco shrugged. “You’re welcome to talk to him himself. Pretty Sarah would know better which room he’s in. And, er, if you could drop some caps on the whores, that’d be appreciated.”
“Uh, yeah, we’ll see about it.” Arcade didn’t sound like he would see about it.
They headed inside to find that the Casa Madrid wasn’t in as bad of a condition as they would’ve thought, though the walls and ceilings were still heavily cracked and the floor just as stained. Leaning against the wall next to the stairs just ahead of the entrance was a woman in a thick, leather jacket, with messy, straight brown hair roughly tied back in a ponytail. What was most noticeable about her, however, was her heavily burned and scarred skin, with just about a third of her face left unscathed. She saw them come in, but seemed more interested in lighting a cigarette as she spoke.
“Welcome to the Casa Madrid. If you got an itch needs scratching, you came to the right place. Just watch how you treat the merchandise.” She took a drag absent-mindedly, then looked at Arcade’s coat. “Oh. You here to talk to Anderson?”
“Yeah. We just wanted to know where he is.”
“Right.” She exhaled her cigarette smoke and nodded to the hall to their right. “Down that hall, left, second door on your right.”
“Who’s the merchandise?” Guy paused, feeling Arcade staring at him judgmentally. “Just asking.”
Sarah snorted. “Pfft. Sure. Three flavors to choose from - Sweetie, Maude, and Jimmy. Sweetie's the house favorite, for reasons that should be obvious. Maude is what you might call the discount rack. She's what a customer wears if he doesn't have the caps to afford Sweetie - or just likes them old. Jimmy's more of a ‘specialist.’” She looked Guy over. “...You’d probably want Jimmy.”
“...Alright.”
“Guy, you can do whatever you want in your free time, but I don’t really want to hear this.” Arcade interjected awkwardly.
“Oh, yes! I mean, no, I-” Guy chuckled nervously, looking between him and Sarah. “I’m not interested, of course. Let’s just-go.”
“Yeah, whatever.” Sarah shrugged indifferently as they headed over to Anderson’s room.
Arcade knocked on the door. “Hello? Anderson?”
“The door’s unlocked.” A man, presumably Anderson’s, voice came from past the door.
They headed to find themselves in a small, one-room apartment, with a bed on one end and a desk piled with papers on the other. Anderson, a middle-aged man who looked about as unkempt as his desk and as tired as anyone else there, turned around in his chair to look at the door. He sat up a bit upon seeing Arcade.
“Oh. Arcade, I…didn’t think you’d be leaving the fort anytime soon. How are you?” His voice was soft and quiet, and he seemed to be the kind of man to think more than he spoke.
“Good, thanks, Tom. And you?”
“Uh. Good, good.” Tom stood up and looked around. “Sorry, I…don’t have anywhere for you to sit…”
“It’s fine, really.” Guy smiled politely as he stepped in after Arcade.
Tom blinked. “Sorry, I didn’t see you. You’re, uh…”
“Guy de Devaul.” Guy approached and held out his hand.
Tom shook it. “Tom Anderson. Nice to meet you.”
“And you as well. You know Arcade?”
“Yes, er, we both came through here to help the locals. He headed back to the fort for that research into a Stimpak formula, and I stayed here to help them with their water shortage and farming techniques.”
“Looks like you’ve been successful.”
“Yes, I would say so. Unlike the NCR, the Followers don't expect anything back.” Tom cleared his throat and quickly moved on. “We've even got our own food store, the Westside Co-op, complete with basic refrigeration.”
“So I’ve heard. Quite the accomplishment, Mr. Anderson.”
“Tom is fine, if you’re a friend of Arcade’s.” Tom nodded to Arcade. “If I might ask, uh…well, are you a recent recruit of the Followers’?”
“No, actually. Not yet, anyway. I’ve just been looking to help out, and Arcade said he’d tag along.”
Tom blinked. “...Arcade offered to leave? Really?”
“Well, he convinced me.” Arcade rubbed the back of his neck sheepishly.
“Is that so? You must be very convincing.”
“Uh. Yeah, anyway.” Arcade looked at Guy, clearly wanting him to change the subject.
“Heh, yes, very convincing.” Guy cleared his throat. “Right. So…you aren’t fond of the NCR?”
Tom sighed and crossed his arms. “I don't go looking for fights with them, but they don't have the best interests of people in mind. Certainly not locals. The bottom line for NCR is productivity and growth. Politicians back in Shady Sands are completely detached from the people actually living here.”
“I can’t disagree with that.” Guy nodded knowingly.
“I assume you’re familiar with them, then?”
“I was a soldier for 16 years. So, very familiar. For better and for worse.”
Guy saw Tom grow a little more tense. He glanced at Arcade.
“I…can’t say I’d have thought you would be helping an NCR veteran.” He turned back to Guy. “No offense, but…Arcade’s about as fond of them as I am, and he’s more vocal about it.”
“None taken. It’s been a few years, and those flaws you mentioned are among my reasons for leaving.”
“I see.”
“Guy’s okay. I wouldn’t have stuck around for this long if he wasn’t.” Arcade affirmed.
Tom nodded. Their words hadn’t done much to relieve his tension.
“I…need to get back to work. Budgeting out the water supply and the costs of the crops. All that.”
Arcade paused for a long moment before nodding in turn. “Alright. We don’t want to be a bother.”
“No, it’s okay. You can always drop in to talk whenever you like.” Tom returned to his desk, avoiding Guy’s gaze. “And if you mention me to Marco, he might give you a discount for a room.”
“Thanks, Tom. I’ll see you later, then.”
“No problem. Goodbye.”
Guy and Arcade stepped out of Anderson’s room, closing the door after them.
“You look troubled.” Guy commented as they headed to the front doors.
“...Yeah. I mean, it’s…nothing. Like Marco said, Tom’s always been pretty quiet. But, uh…I dunno. He was even quieter than usual. His work here is important, but I hope he’s not killing himself over it.”
“Why do you say that?”
“He just looked stressed. I’ll probably check in with him later and see if I can help with his work.”
“Well, I can’t say I’m much of a paperwork kind of guy, but if there’s any way I can help, just say the word.”
“Right. The first way we can do that is spending some caps at the co-op, I suppose.”

The Co-Op, right next to the Casa Madrid apartments, was a small, but well-maintained and clean little shop. The man behind the counter to the right was a scrawny, tired-looking man, looking at a book on the countertop until they walked in.
“Hi there. Welcome to the Westside Co-op. I'm Clayton Ettienne. Let me know if you have any questions.” His tone reflected his look.
“Hey. Guy de Devaul, Arcade Gannon.” Guy gestured to Arcade as he introduced him.
“Gannon? I think Anderson mentioned you.” Clayton nodded. “Well, a friend of Anderson is a friend of mine.”
“Thanks.” Arcade looked around. “So. What can you tell us about this place?”
“It might not look like much, but it's what keeps us Westside locals independent. We started it a few years ago. I admit, we had a lot of trouble at first, but eventually we got some help from Anderson, and the rest of you guys. We're finally to the point where the co-op members can start making money from sales instead of just breaking even.”
“Huh. I guess it’s nice to know something came of our help here.”
“And what’s your story, Clay?” Guy questioned politely.
“Well, I've lived in Nevada all my life. Started out in New Reno, but headed down here as soon as I got the chance. If you can believe it, things are even worse back home. The whole city's still run by crime families. Used to be the Mordinos and Wrights. Now it's the Wrights and Van Graffs. Seems like things never got better.” Clay shook his head. “Anyway, that's all behind me now.”
“Oh, no, I understand. I was back in Reno between some of my tours a few years ago. Anywhere’s better than there.”
Clay smiled a bit. “Yep. Whenever things get bad, I just think of New Reno.”
“Same here, friend.” Guy chuckled and stood up. “So. What do you have here?”
“Just about any fresh crops you might want.”
“Hm…in that case…” Guy stepped over to some of the deep refrigerators and fished out a couple of apples and banana yucca fruits. “How much for these?”
“22 caps altogether.”
“Alright, one moment.” Guy fished out the caps and placed them on the countertop.
“Thanks.” Clay put away the caps in the cash register on the counter. “Come by again.”
“I’ll make sure of it. Arcade.” Guy tossed him the apple.
“Oh, shit!” Arcade just managed to catch it after fumbling for a moment. “Please don’t do that again.”
“Aw, c’mon, you love it.” Guy gestured to the apple. “Anyway. Eat it. You’re skin and bone.”
“I think that’s just my metabolism. But I’ll eat it if it makes you feel better.”
“Good. Anyway, Clay, one more thing. Where’s the water cistern?”
Clay hesitated before tensely replying, “...Why are you asking?”
“I…told someone I’d meet them there, but I realize I don’t know where it is. Is something wrong?”
Clay relaxed a bit. “Oh. Right, sorry, it’s nothing. It’s the little, concrete building west of the South Entrance. If you came up the highway from Vegas, that’s probably where you came in.”
“Got it. Thanks, Clay.”
“No problem.”

They promptly headed for the cistern after they left the co-op, which looked about as Clay had described it and lay just across the street from one of the farms. Just in front of one of the alleys behind it, a barrel fire had been lit, but no one seemed to be near it. They approached and looked into the alley, where the man from before seemed to be moving in some boxes. He stood up and grinned upon seeing them walk in.
“Hey, man. Nice t’see ya.”
“You as well.”
“Y’go to the co-op yet?”
“I did. Nice place.” Guy looked around. Arcade stopped just behind him. “Are you still setting up?”
“Yeah. Just getting everything in place.”
Guy turned as he heard footsteps behind him to find a group of men had moved up to block the entrance into the alley. Arcade backed up towards Guy.
One of the men had a pistol aimed at them, but the others wielded anything from knives to sledgehammers, and the man who appeared to be their leader held a fire ax. The fire ax, however, wasn’t his most distinctive feature. Rather, it was his garbaldine jacket, in surprisingly good condition, and the motorcycle helmet on his head, his face obscured by the black visor. He stopped just in front of them, swinging the ax off his shoulder and propping the head on the ground to lean against it.
“Howdy, cowboy.” The man chuckled. He had a rather specific urban accent.
Guy stepped in front of Arcade and instinctively reached for his pistol. Chico growled and raised his hackles.
“Bah. Don’t do that to me, Guy. I hate guns. So impersonal, ya know?”
“...I suppose so. Chico, heel.” Guy prompted Chico to stay near him.
“And Gannon, right?” The man looked at Arcade. “Heard about you, but not as much as the other Followers. Around the Mormon Fort, anyway.”
“I don’t go out often.” Arcade replied apprehensively.
“I see. So, Richie, c’mon, get over here.”
The Asian man stepped past Guy and Arcade and over to the man in the motorcycle helmet. He pat Richie on the shoulder.
“So, you met my man here. Richie?”
“Richard Oda. Nice to meet you two.” Richie smiled pleasantly. “Sorry about all that. But, hey, I did give ya directions, right? So, in a way, I did help you guys out. I’m not a monster.”
“You...led us into a mugging.” Arcade stated incredulously.
“Yeah. But I also helped ya. Can I get a thank you?”
“I don’t think so, Richard.”
“Yeah, okay, I think the mugging cancels that out.”
“Well, hey, Richie, it ain’t quite a mugging, c’mon,” The man with the helmet stood up and gently elbowed Richie. “It’s a...donation.”
“Do the people in Westside know you’re mugging a Follower?” Guy questioned firmly.
The man was silent for a moment before laughing loudly and jarringly. “Who the fuck cares, man? Not as if they’re gonna do shit. I like you guys, but you’re kinda softies, ya get me?”
““I’m not…” Guy began.
“I knooow, Guy. I heard. In fact, I been hearing a lot about you. That’s also why I’m here.” The man propped his ax onto his shoulder. “I heard about you in New Reno, and now I’ve started hearin’ about you here. Funny. Anyway, ‘cause you been getting so famous, I figured it’s time we pay you a visit. My name’s Johnny Shaw, friend. Johnny’s fine, though. I like to call the gang here, ‘The Shaws.’ ‘Cause, y’know, they’re like family.”
“I see. You wanna pretend like you’re one of the big families in Reno, is that it?”
Richie glanced at Johnny, looking a bit concerned as he swung the ax off of his shoulder, slamming the head against the concrete and making them jump.
“You. Don’t say a fuckin’ word about them, shitheel.”
Guy took a breath, reminding himself that Arcade and Chico were with him.
“Okay, I apologize.”
“...Thanks. You’re a real nice guy.” Johnny stood up. “So…what’re you doin’ here?”
“What do you mean?”
“In Vegas. Freeside, Westwide, what’re you doin’ here? Why’re you stirring everything up?”
“I…I just want to help, I suppose.”
“You’re here...to help?”
“That’s what I do. I go where help is needed. That’s all.”
Johnny chuckled, “What, you consider yourself some kinda saint, is that it?”
“No, Johnny, I don’t. I just...do what I can.”
“Naw, see, ‘cause I heard of you back in Cali.”
“Is that so?”
“You were called...a lotta things. I heard one guy call you the Crowin’ Ranger, on account of your singing stuff. I like that, it’s nice. But that’s not all you were known for. Those raiders ‘round there, they were scared of ya. You were a real effective bounty hunter, from what I heard. And if they weren’t scared of you, well.” Johnny chuckled. “They were scared of Tony, right?”
Guy stayed quiet.
“...Your pa? Don’t remember him?”
“I remember.”
“I heard of him. He’s a real piece of shit, even for a raider, right?”
“I’m aware.”
“Now you’re quiet. Say, when you were a bounty hunter, you hunted the real nasty fuckers. The ones no one else wanted to get within a mile of. So why not your pa? I mean, you’re his kid, ain’t ya? Only right you’re the one to clean up his mess-”
“I am not responsible for that-” Guy stopped himself, feeling himself lose his temper.
“Ohoho, is that what sets ya off?”
“...I’m not interested in discussing this.”
“...Alright. Honest. I appreciate that.” Johnny leaned on his ax again. “Anyway. Tony’s a scary motherfucker, even to me. Only right I keep tabs on his kid. God knows what you could get up to, if something really pisses ya off. So, considering all that. I just wanted to make somethin’ clear before we let you go. Stay the fuck outta my way, we’ll stay outta yours. No matter what goes on with either of us. Capiche?”
“I understand.”
“Good. Plus, we’ll need a little tax. Just ‘cause I’m being nice enough to let ya go. How ‘bout…Not all your caps, I’m not that cruel. 200.”
Guy fished out two pouches of 100 caps and handed them to the man who stepped forward to take them, armed with a knife.
“Thank you, boys. Have a nice day.” Johnny nodded and headed away with his men in tow. Richie hung back for a moment, grinned at them one last time, then returned to Johnny’s side.
“Today just keeps getting worse,” Arcade muttered irritably.
“At least we didn’t die. And at least he didn’t ask for more.”
“He will.”
Guy sighed. “Yeah, he will.”

They dejectedly headed back to the Casa Madrid to get a room. It had been a long day. On their way back to the apartment building, they spotted the Super Mutant from before speaking to an older man just outside the liquor store. Or, rather, the man outside the liquor store was speaking to Mean. He didn’t seem much for talking. The man noticed Guy and Arcade and waved welcomingly.
“Hey, there. You’re new.” He looked at the patch on Arcade’s lab coat. “Ah, and are you a friend of Anderson’s?”
“Yeah.” Arcade nodded. “Arcade Gannon. Nice to meet you.”
“Guy de Devaul. Same here.” Guy smiled politely despite his exhaustion and nodded.
“Likewise, friends. Name's Bob, but folks around here call me Klamath Bob. This here’s Mean, but it looks like he’s already met ya.” Bob looked at Mean, who nodded quietly, and then back at Guy and Arcade. “Man, you two look beat. What happened?”
“Heh, we, uh…got mugged.”
Bob blinked. “Mugged? Where?”
“Behind the cistern.”
“Aw, jeez. Usually Mean here scares off thieves that brazen.”
Mean shook his head. “Ah sorra.”
“Aw, it’s okay.” Guy reassured him. “It’s really…it’s my fault. It was an obvious trap, come to think of it.”
“Well, no need to blame yourself neither, friend. Only ones to blame are the assholes that mugged ya.” Bob paused to think, putting his hands on his hips, before looking back at Guy. “Wait, was it those Shaw thugs?”
“One and the same.”
Bob sighed. “Damn it. Met a couple of ‘em, their leader, too. Weird guy, him and that Richie guy, but they didn’t seem too bad to me. I guess I was just happy they were scaring off the Scorpions from around here.”
“The Scorpions?”
“Typical gang of dumb bullies and angry nobodies. They're holed up a bit south of here, in the Monte Carlo Suites. They think they're tough, but any time they tangle with the Fiends, they get torn right up. Same thing with these Shaw guys, too.”
“I see. Hopefully the Shaws are the same.”
Guy stepped back as Mean suddenly turned and started lumbering away.
“Where’s he going?”
“Aw, sorry. Mean prefers to just wander around. He doesn’t mean to be rude, he just, uh…forgets to say goodbye sometimes.” Bob chuckled.
Arcade looked back at Bob after watching Mean leave. “So…his name is actually…Mean Sonofabitch?”
“I know the name sounds bad, but he likes it. He's one nasty old coot.”
“What do you know about him?”
“Far as I can tell, he's one of them original Super Mutants, what came from the Boneyard. Wandered about after that ‘Master’ fellow died. Eventually got caught somewhere around the Hub, back in NCR. Boy, they sure treated him mean down there. Cut him up so bad he can't talk no more. I tried to buy him, just so they'd stop hurting him, but they didn't want any of it.” Bob shook his head.
“That’s awful.” Guy commented, mostly to himself. “How did he end up getting away?”
“Turned out some of them 'Night Kids' - whatever you call those sneaky Super Mutant types - got in and busted him out. I guess somebody named ‘Tabitha’ led the bunch that freed him. Don't know much more than that.”
“So, how did he end up here?” Arcade questioned further.
“He just showed up here one day. Couldn't really talk, but he remembered me alright.” Bob smiled fondly. “Ever since then he's just been, well...hanging around, I guess. Does odd jobs for folks and smashes the bad guys when they come poking around.”
“He seems…sweet. In his own way.” Guy added.
“Aw, sure. I guess he is.” Bob nodded and turned back to them. “Anyway, I’ll stop jawing. You two probably just want to get some rest. Just talk to Marco, and he can set ya up with a room. In the meantime, I’ll keep an eye out for the Shaws.”
“Thanks, Bob. You make sure to get some sleep, too.”

“Howdy, Marco.” Guy greeted Marco, trying to keep up his cheerful demeanor despite what had happened earlier.
“Hey. Whaddya need?” Marco looked like he was about to head in for the night when they arrived just outside the Casa Madrid.
“Do you have any rooms available for tonight?” Arcade took over. “I was going to stay here and help Anderson tomorrow morning, maybe tonight.”
Marco paused. “...Alright, for Tom’s pals, 15 each. Just for tonight.”
“30 it is, then.” Guy handed over the caps, making a note to sell those parts he had gotten earlier. The Shaws had set him back a bit in terms of finance.
“Thanks, boys.” Marco pocketed the caps and handed over two keys. “It’s the two rooms at the back of the first floor. Don’t come to me with noise complaints.”
Arcade sighed. “Yeah, okay.”
Marco headed inside, followed by Guy and Arcade, and promptly headed to his own room. Pretty Sarah was sitting on the stairs, counting out some caps, and hardly spared them a second glance as they entered.
“Okay. I’m gonna go see if I can help Anderson before I go to bed.”
Guy nodded, rubbing his eyes. “Okay. I think I’ll head straight to bed. Try to get some sleep, alright?”
“I will.”
“Oh, and take Chico with you.”
Arcade raised a brow. “Why?”
“Knowing him, he’ll want to stay up a little while longer, and I think he’d prefer to have some company that isn’t sleeping.”
“...Well, alright. Chico, you wanna come with me?”
Chico barked and trotted up to Arcade, his tongue lolling. Arcade smiled and rubbed his head.
“I’m guessing that’s a yes. Goodnight, Guy.”
“‘Night.”
Arcade headed over to speak to Anderson, and Guy stayed at the stairs, waiting until he had entered Anderson’s room before turning to Pretty Sarah. She looked up, raising a brow.
“So. Back already?”
“Sure. Eh…where did you say Jimmy was?”
“I didn’t. Upstairs, to the right, second door along the right wall.”
“Alright.” Guy took off his hat and adjusted his hair.
“What’re you doin’ that for if you’re paying him?”
“Heh. I dunno.” Guy put his hat back on. “See you tomorrow, I suppose.”
“Mmhm.”

“...Wow, I…kind of can’t believe you’re getting this much water through.” Arcade commented, looking through the water quotas.
Tom didn’t say anything.
“...Sorry. Uh, how did you figure it out?”
“Figure what out?”
“How to get the caps to pay for the water.”
“Oh, well…everyone in Westside contributes to the water fund. The co-op and the fresh food has been beneficial for everyone who lives here, so they’re usually more than willing to spare some caps.”
“I see. And you make it back from the co-op.”
“Exactly.” Tom continued marking down the crop quotas. “...So, what’s his story?”
“Who, Guy?”
“Who else?”
“Right. I…mostly just know that he used to be an NCR soldier.”
Tom paused. “No offense, but, er, if that’s all you know about him, why…well, why are you accompanying him?”
“He’s well-intentioned. I mean, he’s clearly still too attached to them, but not to the point that he’s willing to sacrifice people’s well-being for it. And…well, he can do something.”
“And you can’t?”
“...It doesn’t really feel like I do a whole lot sitting in a tent, doing pointless research all day.”
Tom sat up. “I wouldn’t say it’s pointless. We need to figure out how stimpaks can be manufactured, and…well, we need to start somewhere.”
“It doesn’t feel like there’s anywhere to start, though.”
“But what is he doing that’s more important?”
“Everything. I mean…I…I feel like what we’re doing has an actual, tangible effect for once. Or, well…what he’s doing. I guess I’m just tagging along.”
“Sounding nice and being able to shoot aren’t the only ways you can make a difference in the world, Arcade.”
“No, yeah. I get that.” Arcade decided to leave it there. It didn’t seem Tom quite understood what he meant.
“...Alright.”

Guy stood up from his place sitting and waiting on the stairs as Arcade and Chico came around the corner, approaching the front doors of the Casa Madrid.
“Hey. How’d ya sleep?” Guy hugged Chico as he trotted up and jumped on him.
“Are you talking to me or the dog?”
“Unless Chico can talk now, you.”
“I mean, I slept as well as I could. Anderson didn’t need that much help, I guess. Or he didn’t want it.”
“Well, some prefer to be hands-on with their work. I doubt it’s anything personal.”
“Oh, no, definitely, I didn’t think-”
Arcade stopped when they heard someone come down the stairs. A young black man with thick, black, quiffed hair came down the stairs and stopped on the landing, looking between them.
“Jimmy. What’s wrong?” Guy smiled as he continued down the last flight of stairs.
“Nothing. You just forgot your dogtags, handsome.” Jimmy smiled back, handing over the tags.
“Ah, so I did.” Guy took the tags and pocketed them. “I do need these, unfortunately. I know you love them.”
Jimmy chuckled flirtatiously. “I sure do. Come back soon, sugar.”
“I’ll try, sweetheart. Try not to miss me too much.”
Jimmy headed back upstairs. Arcade looked after him, then looked back at Guy.
“...What? Men love the soldier boy schtick.”
“I don’t want to talk about this.” Arcade headed out the door. Chico followed.
“Chico!” Guy huffed as he followed them out. “You’re a little traitor.”
Chico barked.
“Hmph. Well, I guess he’s your dog now.”
“Sure.”
“Are you angry?”
“I said I don’t really want to talk about this. Or think about it at all, actually.” Arcade looked around. “I think I saw a pawn shop earlier, if you wanted to sell those parts.”
“Ah, right. I need to make those caps back.”
“...Okay.”

As they approached the pawn shop, Miguel’s Pawn Shop, specifically, as the sign outside stated, they noticed an old man and a similarly aged woman playing a game of chess. The old man, with tanned, leathery skin and a thick white mustache, looked up and waved.
“Hey, Arcade! Is that you?”
Arcade hesitantly stepped over to the table. “Uh, hey, Judah. How have you been?”
“Good. I’d be better if I could play against someone who weren’t a cheater.” Judah glared accusingly at the old woman sitting across from him.
“Pfft. No one’s cheatin’, Judah, you’re just a sore loser.” The old woman snickered.
“Oh, sure. I know you’re taking those pawns off the board when I’m not looking, Annie.”
Arcade smiled a bit. “I always thought you were good at chess, but if you’ve found your equal, it doesn’t mean she’s cheating, Judah.”
“I can’t believe you’re siding with her over me, Arcade. I’m hurt.” Judah chuckled, and glanced over at Guy. “I see you’ve been making new friends.”
“Right. This is, er, Guy de Devaul.”
“Nice to meet you, sir.” Guy held out his hand.
Judah shook it. “No need for formalities, kid. It’s been a long time since anyone’s had to sir me.”
“If you insist, Judah. How do you know Arcade?”
“Him? He must’ve told you he came through here a few years ago. The Followers like to check up on us old folks, make sure we’re not about to fall apart. Arcade was nice enough to play some chess with me after my check-up. He damn near beat me a couple times.”
“I’ve always been more of a researcher than a strategist.” Arcade shrugged.
“What’s the difference?” Judah looked back at the board. “Hey, you took another pawn!”
“I didn’t take crap, Judah.”
“She didn’t.” Arcade affirmed.
“God damn it. I’ll remember this, kid.” Judah moved one of his rooks.
Arcade smiled humorously. “Sure you will. See you later, Judah.”
“Mhm. Make sure to play another game with me next time you come through.”

Chapter Text

“So, how do you feel about Camp McCarran?” Guy asked chipperly as they headed back down the highway from Westside.
“Well, you know how I feel about the NCR.”
“We could make some caps from helping out around there.”
“They’re probably just going to ask you to take care of some Fiends. Which, I mean…” Arcade shrugged. “You can do that if you want.”
“Mm…not at the moment. I’ll see what other work they have there, maybe take some bounties later.”
“If you say so.”
“Y’know, you are a doctor. I’m sure they have plenty on-site, but if you offered some help, they’d probably be happy to pay you.”
“I’m not going to deny anyone medical help just because they’re with the NCR, but I’m also not going to offer my help if they don’t need it.”
Guy looked back at the road. “If you insist.”

Camp McCarran looked about the same as before, with a couple of bored-looking Troopers still standing guard at the main gate, chatting idly. One of them stood and turned to Guy when they saw him and Arcade approaching the gate.
“Hey, there. You got any business in McCarran?”
“I just wanted to see if I could offer some help.”
“Well, there’s a lot needs doing. Bounties on some of those Fiends, fixing some stuff around here. And…don’t we have that Legion POW? Did Boyd get him to squeal yet?”
The other trooper shook his head. “If she couldn’t, I don’t think some rando could.”
“Hm. That so?”
“Either way, if you wanna help with stuff’s that not bounties, you could probably ask Colonel Hsu about it.”
“And where is he?”
“I wouldn’t know. I never had to talk to him.” The first trooper shrugged ambivalently.
Their return to their chat indicated to Guy that he wasn’t going to get much else out of them, and so continued into the Camp.
The main concourse was populated by dozens of tents and troopers milling about between them, as well as a few sandbags and small watchtowers just in front of the gates, likely in case of a break in. To the right of the gate lay the terminal building, and, presumably, the concourse past it.
As they headed past the sandbags, Guy spotted one of the main tents, where, just outside, a First Recon sniper was standing and looking through his pockets, probably for a cigarette. Guy figured that a First Recon sniper would probably know where the Colonel was, more so than the average trooper, anyway. As he approached, though, despite the facewrap and the large, square glasses covering most of his face, he could tell the sniper was quite young, about the same age as most of the newer troopers. He noticed Guy approach him and looked up, a little surprised.
““Hey, my man! T-t-ten of spades. First Recon sh-s-sharpshooter. At your s-s-service.”
Guy raised a brow. “Uh, hello. Nice to meet you, Spades. Guy De Devaul. Arcade Gannon.” He gestured to Arcade, who waved briefly.
“Nice t-to-to meet you, M-Mr. Dev-D-Devaul.”
“Just Guy is okay. You look...a bit young. How long ago did you enlist?”
“Oh. T-t-they recruited me...what, a year ago? Taught me to k-kick even more ass than before. These guys...they really know how to k-k-kick some as-ass.”
“They sure do. Uhm...is there...are you okay?” He added with a tinge of concern.
“He just has a stutter, Guy,” Arcade replied nonchalantly.
“Yeah, like he s-said. I’m f-fine. Had it since I was a k-ki...kid. Doesn't stop me from k-kickin' ass.”
“I’m sure it doesn’t.”
“D-d-damn right.” Ten of Spades held his head up proudly, and Guy could tell he was smiling, even with the facewrap covering his mouth.
“How long have you been a sharpshooter?”
“Shit. Long as I can r-r-remember. Had a rifle in my hand since I was three, that's what my dad always says. Learned to shoot on our ranch. Way west of here. Same as the LT, he's a f-farm kid too. D-Did you serve?”
“I did, actually.”
“H-How long?”
“Hm...18 years.”
“W-woah! That’s a l-l-long-ass time!”
“Thank you, I suppose. I just wanted to know where Colonel Hsu is, see if there’s any work I can do.”
“Oh, s-s-sure. I mean, I know he’s in the b-b-big building, but Betsy would prob-probably know where his office is.”
“Betsy?”
“She’s my p-partner. She’s kind of, uh, er-a b-bitch, but she’s c-cool. She’s in-i-inside. But, u-um, she’s not a goo-good mood. You know?”
“...Alright. I’ll try to tread carefully.”
“O-okay. If you say s-sa-so. I'll s-s-see you around, Gu-Guy.”
“And you as well, Spades.”
Ten of Spades nodded and stepped away, adjusting his red beret when it started to slip a bit on his head.
They stepped inside the tent to find a woman, similarly dressed to Spades, and also with a shaved head and a beret, was pouring out some coffee at one of the tables. She turned as she took a sip, revealing a worn, hard face with shades that obscured her eyes. Her disdain at their presence, however, was still obvious.
“Never seen you around before. What do you want?”
“Guy de Devaul, nice to meet you. I figured I’d ask one of the snipers here about the place. Thought you would know the place better than the average trooper.”
The woman snorted humorously. “What gave me away? The big gun, the shades, or the attitude? “
“You know, I didn’t notice the attitude until just now.”
The woman, who Guy assumed was the Betsy that Spades spoke of, grinned in amusement. “Hah! You're not as dumb as I thought you'd be. We got the same sense of humor. Probably better to walk away while I still like you, though. All kinds of things piss me off. Like just about anything that anybody says.”
“Alright, I don’t plan on pulling anything. Or making myself unwelcome...so, all snipers wear shades, then?”
“They don't. Only the good ones do.” She sipped her coffee again. “My partner's got some potential, so I let him wear those goofy glasses. I tell him they're his training shades. He totally buys it. Truth is, his eyes just suck.”
“Ah, so Spades is your partner, then.”
“Heh, yeah, the little guy. I like him because he listens. Doesn't shut up the rest of the time, but when I talk, he listens. Also, he doesn't pull any stupid come-ons, like practically every other horn-dog alpha male on this base. Might be he's just scared of me, though.” She snorted incredulously and sat at the dining table in the middle of the tent. “Trust me, the alpha males are overrated. Plenty of them in the army. All they're good for is killing each other and taking smelly shits.”
“At least we agree on one thing.” Arcade mumbled, partially to himself.
“Hm?” She sat up. “Who’s the twig there?”
“Arcade.”
“Ar...That’s his name?”
“Mmhm.” Arcade sounded more tired of the question than anything.
“My name is Guy, by the way. If you were wondering.”
“I wasn’t. But I like your friend here. But maybe it’s just ‘cause he’s just scared of me like the little guy is.”
“Is it required that someone be afraid of you to show basic respect towards you?” Arcade questioned drily.
“Nevermind, he’s got an attitude. Funny, but wears down after a bit. Probably wouldn’t mind you were a chick.”
“Flattering.” Arcade seemed to check out of the conversation and started looking around the tent.
“Well, you won’t have to worry about either of us coming onto you,” Guy added with a polite smile.
“Huh?” Betsy paused. “Oh. You two an item or something?”
“No, but neither of us are, erm, interested in the fairer sex. And I should hope that if we were, we’d be polite enough to not come on to you anyway.”
Betsy turned her head away and sipped her coffee. “Right. Guess you’re not too bad.”
“I don’t think you’re too bad, either, Miss Betsy.”
“Christ, drop the Miss. I avoided being stuck in an office this long, don’t wanna feel like I’m in one now.”
“Speaking of, have you seen any serious combat here?”
She shrugged. “Not unless you count the Fiends as serious. Gorobets keeps us inside the fence, most of the time. Doesn't matter to me, I just shoot bad guys. Sooner or later, they'll move us out to the Dam, though. That's when the shit gets nasty.”
“How do you mean?”
“Legion fights to win. And they're smart...hell of a lot smarter than these crazy Fiends. But I don't feel bad about shooting Legion boys. Fiends, on the other hand...sometimes I get some pangs of conscience. Not often. But sometimes.”
Guy briefly thought of the Legion at the dam. At some point he got used to seeing young men, barely teenagers, cut their throats when they’re cornered. But it never made it any better.
“First I’ve heard of conscience in a while.”
Betsy nodded idly. “Some cute little junkie bitch, so fucked-up she doesn't even know that she's the bad guy. And I've got to headshot her. Makes me think.” She scoffed. “Might just be sex, though. I see some cute little number, and I'd rather get in her pants. So maybe I'm a stone-cold bitch, after all.”
“Heh, maybe.”
“You ever get that feeling?” She sipped her coffee and chuckled. “Though, that would probably just be when you’re fighting those Legion boys, right?”
“...I’ve...had more of an appreciation for love than sex in recent years.”
“Hm. I don’t see it, but whatever floats your boat, I guess.”
Another member of First Recon, judging from his beret, stepped into the tent, looking between Guy and Arcade, who had chosen to sit on one of the couches to the side while Guy was talking to Betsy. The man who entered was a rather gangly, young Latino man with patchy facial hair and a rather irritable demeanor.
“Why’s a Follower here? They decide to help us again, or he just here to preach at us?” He turned to Betsy.
“I’m right here,” Arcade commented irritably.
“Yeah. I know,” The man replied coldly.
“He’s just with me, don’t worry.” Guy interjected, trying to lighten the mood a bit.
“Huh. And who’re you?”
“You don’t gotta be a bitch, Bitter-Root.” Betsy put her coffee on the low table in front of her.
“Says you.” Bitter-Root looked back at Guy. “So?”
“Guy de Devaul. My friend’s Arcade Gannon.”
“Alright, well, if you’re a bounty hunter, talk to my father. We’re not in charge of handing out the bounties.”
“I was actually just going to ask where Colonel Hsu is.” Guy paused. “Bitter-Root? Isn’t that a Great Khan name?”
“Yeah, and I don’t wanna talk about it.”
“Then maybe you’d like to speak about your Commanding Officer being your father, then? I’m fairly sure that’s not allowed.”
Bitter-Root sighed irritably, “Yeah, look...he's not my real father. He just looked after me, for a while. It's a long story. And I'd get tired of talking before it was through.”
“Right. Didn’t mean to be confrontational, it’s just, there’s a good reason that rule is in place. I had a CO like that, as well. More of a dad to me than my…birth father.”
Bitter-Root looked at the floor, contemplative for a moment, before looking back at Guy. “Why?”
“Hm?”
“You didn’t sound too happy when you brought up your dad.”
“Oh, yes, him. Because he was a vile person. Not much better than the Fiends you’re dealing with out here.”
“...Alright.” Bitter-Root grabbed a cup of coffee and stepped out of the tent.
“...Sorry ‘bout him. He’s a bigger bitch than me sometimes. And that’s saying something.” Betsy scoffed.
“It’s fine. I was quite like him when I was younger. Can’t blame him.” Guy turned to Betsy. “...So.”
“Yeah, Hsu.” Betsy leaned back in her chair. “Go through the left-most doors, first door to your left. Hsu’s there.”
“Got it. Thanks, Betsy.”
“Yeah, whatever.”
Guy stepped out of the other side of the tent, about to head to the terminal building, before Bitter-Root, just outside the tent, said something.
“Hey.”
“Hm?” Guy turned back to him.
“You asked about my name. It is a Khan name. My ‘dad’ was a Khan. And trust me, they’re not much better than the degenerates around here, either.”
“...I...don’t mean to pry, but why do you use their name? I...decided not to use my father’s name. I respect it, but…I can’t quite say I understand.”
Bitter-Root shrugged. “I just thought they owed me the name after what they put me through.”
“I see….were you at Bitter Springs?”
“Yeah. Most of the soldiers there would tell you it was a massacre. I can tell you, though, those assholes brought it on themselves.”
“You got your name from Bitter Springs, then?”
Bitter-Root nodded idly, turning his eyes to the ground. “In the Khans, you're not fully grown 'til you've taken a beat-down. Everybody gathers round and hits you until you're damn near dead. After that - if you haven't begged for mercy - you get to choose a new name. One you'll use for the rest of your life. When NCR slaughtered the Khans at Bitter Springs, I hadn't got my beat-down yet. I was still too young. Way I see it, Bitter Springs was my beat-down. So afterward...I gave myself a name. It's all I've got from the Khans, and it's all I ever want.”
“Did your parents…?”
“...Yeah. They did. Trust me, Bitter Springs was the best thing that ever happened to me. And to my parents. They were as bad as everyone else there, worse, maybe.”
“...Do you mean that?”
Bitter-Root furrowed his brow, looking back up, much angrier than before. “Oh, do I? Really? My dad, he got himself fucked up, every chance he got. Always started with folk for no reason. Hell, he was the one who taught me to shoot. You know how? By taking potshots at NCR. And not just soldiers. Civilians, too. Even kids. Then he'd get high with his buddies and swap tales about the folk they killed. Bunch of animals. And my mom... couple times she tried to sell me to some waster, just to score some Jet. Even the other Khans said she was useless. Only reason they kept her around was because she was a...how'd my dad say it...‘a smokin' piece of ass.’ So, yeah, fuck you, I mean that.”
Guy recoiled a bit at the sudden aggression. “I see. I see. I’m sorry.”
“Fuckin’ should be. I’d have thought you know how it feels.” He sipped his coffee, avoiding Guy’s eyes.
“...So, I don’t mean to pry, but…how did you survive?”
Bitter-Root sighed and shook his head. “Guess I could tell a pretty good story, if I had a mind. But the truth is, I don't know. Just got lucky. They brought me to Dhatri after the battle. He was just a Captain, back then. Guess he saw something in me...knew I didn't belong with the Khans. Maybe he felt bad, too. About how his men killed my folks. I told him he did me a service, but he didn't believe me. Still doesn't. He's a good man, Dhatri. Doesn't act like it sometimes, I know. But he didn't have to take me in.”
“...Do you perhaps not want to remember anything?”
Bitter-Root paused for a long moment, then downed the rest of his coffee. “It's like I tell Major Dhatri. Best not look under a rock, if you don't really want to know what's there.” He looked back at Guy, his eyes harder than before. “Could be that NCR found some blood on me, and none of it mine. Could be that a few of those Khans didn't die from NCR bullets. I had scores of my own to settle...deeper ones than NCR ever had. Don't bother asking who they were with.”
“That’s…” Guy paused. “Jesus. No child should do…should have to do that.”
“Nah. But it needed to be done. Like I said. You should know how it feels. Unless you were too scared to cap your pa. Like you shoulda.”
“That’s…” Guy turned his eyes downwards. “I was…16 when I left, I was just…scared.”
“Yeah, well, I wasn’t even fuckin’ 16, and I was scared too. Sometimes you gotta do what needs to be done.” Bitter-Root turned back to the tent. “If I wanted someone waxing on about how violence doesn’t help no one, I would go talk to another fuckin’ Follower.”
He headed back into the tent as Guy continued staring at the ground.
“...That was…uncalled for.” Arcade turned to Guy. “Are you okay?”
Guy blinked and shook his head. “Hm? Yes, I’m fine.”
“Sorry. About…” Arcade paused. “I should’ve told him to…he was being an asshole.”
“No, no. He wasn’t. I…understand.”
“Well, he should’ve understood, too.”
“He’s just…he’s still young. He’s still too bitter to look back on it like that.” Guy turned to the Terminal building. “We should go talk to Hsu.”

Hsu’s office was a clean, well-kept room just past the huge lobby in the terminal building, with the most prominent decoration being a large, framed picture of President Kimball. Hsu himself was seated at a desk opposite the door, his back to them as he sifted through paperwork. He heard the door open and turned his chair around to face them. He bore a round, mild-mannered face, topped by a green beret, and his voice reflected his appearance.
“I'm usually good with faces, but I don't think I've seen you here before. What brings you to Camp McCarran?”
“Just looking for some work, sir. Guy de Devaul, at your service.”
Hsu stood up and shook Guy’s hand, looking pleasantly surprised at his formality. “Interesting name. Colonel James Hsu.” He looked at Arcade. “A Follower. That’s…surprising. But your help is always appreciated.”
“Right. Arcade Gannon. Nice to meet you.” Arcade seemed at least marginally more polite to Hsu than to the other NCR soldier they’d spoken to.
“Likewise.”
“I heard of you.” Guy nodded approvingly. “I retired after the battle at Hoover Dam, but I try to keep up to date on the goings-on around here.”
Hsu’s demeanor lightened a bit. “Oh. You used to serve with us?”
“That’s right.” Guy held out his dog tags. “Ranger.”
“A ranger?”
“A ranger?” Arcade sounded more baffled than Hsu.
“Well, I don’t mean to…” Guy chuckled sheepishly as he put away his tags. “I wasn’t with the outfit long enough to be a Veteran. And I didn’t serve here, I was in California. Until Hoover Dam, I mean.”
“Still impressive.” Hsu looked a little less stressed. “At least we have an ex-ranger here.”
“You don’t have a serving ranger here?”
“Not right at this moment. We just sent him away to take a look at the Fiend situation. He should be back within a day or so.” Hsu’s face betrayed his concern, but Guy decided not to press the issue at that moment. “Anyway, was there anything in particular you needed to speak to me about?”
“I don’t quite have the time for a bounty at the moment, but I heard that you have a tough customer in a Legion POW. I thought I could help.”
“Right. I have Lieutenant Boyd on that already, and she's excellent. But I think she's hit a wall. Talk to her, if you like. See if she has any use for you. Her office is right above mine, but I think she might be interrogating right now. So she'd be upstairs on the other side of the building.” Hsu gestured to his door.
“I’ll get right on that, then, sir.”
“Please. Hsu is fine.” Hsu nodded politely. “Thanks for your help.”
“No problem, Hsu.” Guy smiled pleasantly and headed back out the door.

“You didn’t tell me you used to be a ranger,” Arcade commented as they headed upstairs to meet Boyd.
“I didn’t find it very important to bring up.”
“Well, it explains your almost blind loyalty to them. They typically prefer to recruit anyone brainwashed enough to just follow their every order.”
“I resent being called brainwashed, Arcade.”
“That’s just my experience with Rangers. I respect the fact that they had to work to get to their position, but they’re too willing to do...unsavory things for the NCR.”
“Well, I certainly don’t remember doing anything unsavory for the NCR, myself. I’m a little offended you’d think that of me,” Guy replied curtly.
Arcade paused, then looked away. He looked like he wanted to say something else, but kept quiet.

They headed to one of the doors on the right just after going up the escalator, which was being casually guarded by an NCR trooper. He noticed them approaching and stood up from his position leaning on the wall.
“If you’re heading in, I’d tread carefully. Boyd's in there with a prisoner right now. Boy, is she pissed.”
“I’ll keep that in mind.”
The man shrugged and stepped to the side as Guy pushed open the door to head inside.
It was a small room, with a heavy-duty metal door leading into another opposite the entrance. Built into the wall was a window through which Guy could see a Legionary, presumably a high-ranking one, judging from his outfit, hand-cuffed and sitting on a plastic chair, his head down and looking quite dejected. Standing just beside the window into the next room was a rather stressed-looking woman, with a green beret like Hsu’s, smoking a cigarette. She turned to them just as they entered and sighed irritably.
“Who are you, what do you want?” She snapped as she flicked away her cigarette.
“Guy de Devaul, ma’am, I assume you’re Lieutenant Boyd?”
“No, I’m just hanging around this interrogation room for fun. Yeah, I’m Boyd.”
“Apparently you need help.”
“Oh, I need help with a lot of shit, buddy. I've had soldiers go AWOL, break-ins, thefts, you name it. What I’m wondering is why you think you can help me.”
“Alright. I’m here because Hsu said I could be useful.”
“Really? Why?”
“I used to serve as a Ranger. So, do you need any help?”
Boyd raised a brow. “Yeah, so far this has gone exactly as expected - poorly. But if you really used to be a Ranger, you could be the help we need here. We captured an honest-to-God centurion of Caesar's Legion recently. I mean, as you can see.” She gestured to the man inside the interrogation room.
“That’s a big deal, then.”
She nodded. “Better believe it. Everybody, everybody in Caesar's Legion from Caesar on down will kill themselves before they can be captured. They're so twitchy they'd probably do it if you reached out to hug them. But here's this guy who's an elite commander in their army and he just gives himself up, even as his men are slitting their own throats around him.”
“Hm. What do you think that means?”
“Well, I don't know about you, but to me that sounds like a man who's willing to cooperate. Except he hasn't. Only times he speaks up are to insult you. He's a real prick, by the way. And I'm supposed to get information out of this guy.”
“So you want me to give it a shot.”
“I think if you rough him up enough and really put some fear into him, he'll sing like a choir boy. So let's do this.” She dusted her hands off on her uniform and stood up. “When you're ready, I'll go in and give you a little intro. Then I leave the room and you make him regret the day he was born. We go back and forth a couple of times until either he talks or he can't move his jaw anymore. Either way we've had our entertainment for the day. Plus, you’re not NCR anymore. This guy’ll think that you’re completely insane. And he’ll realize that you don’t have any restrictions.”
“Are you seriously talking about torturing a prisoner of war?” Arcade suddenly interrupted incredulously from behind Guy.
“Wha-” Boyd leaned over to see Arcade. “Oh, goddammit, you brought a Follower? I wouldn’t have brought up the damn plan if I knew he was here.”
“You shouldn’t have brought it up in the first place, it’s completely unethical. You can’t do that,” Arcade reaffirmed.
“What, you think you can get something out of him without kicking his shit in? ‘Cause that’s what I’ve been trying for the past week straight, and guess what, I haven’t gotten anything. This isn’t your job, it’s mine.”
“I agree with Arcade. I don’t approve of the use of violence against prisoners of war,” Guy interjected.
Boyd turned back to him, looked at his face to see if he was completely serious and groaned, “Aw, tear my heart out, why don't you?” She paused to think before continuing. “Well, maybe you can find a way to play with his mind - get him out of his comfort zone. People lose their heads and say things they regret. Especially if they underestimate you. This dickhead would underestimate a nuclear missile. Plenty of ways to skin a cat, as they say.” She paused again, and grinned. ‘Hey, what if we skinned him? Bet he wouldn't be so smug then.”
“Let’s try not to, and get started, hm?”
“That's the spirit. Okay, I'll go in and have a word with him. Then I'll call you in.”
“Sounds good.”
Boyd nodded and headed to the locked metal door to enter the interrogation room while Guy and Arcade listened in.
“Long time, no see, Silus,” Boyd greeted as she stepped inside.
The centurion spoke in a distinctly condescending tone.
“Lieutenant. I was just thinking about you.”
“That so?” Boyd regarded him casually more than anything.
“I was. I was just thinking about that pretty neck of yours.”
“How sweet.”
“I was thinking about how it would look with a Legion slave collar on it.”
“I’ll pass.”
“Do you know what I love about our slave collars, Lieutenant?”
“If you love them, maybe you should try one on,” She replied dismissively as she grabbed another cigarette from her pocket, as well as a lighter.
“I love how tightly they fit.” Silus paused to take a breath, and continued to speak slowly and precisely, “I train my men to make sure the slaves' flesh bulges a bit around the top and bottom. Know why?”
“It's all the rage in fashion circles,” Boyd replied sarcastically.
“Not quite. If you fit it just right, their body never gets used to the feeling of wearing it. It cuts in just enough when they swallow or turn their head to remind them who they belong to. And it's that constant reminder that keeps them docile.”
Arcade took a breath. “Jesus. I’m not really sure I want to listen to him much longer.”
“In that case, maybe you'd better save the collar you were going to give me.”
“Oh? For whom?”
“You should probably step out with Chico, then.” Guy pat Arcade on the back.
Boyd grinned. “For a friend of mine you're about to meet. My friend isn't very docile.”
“And who is this friend of yours?”
Boyd tapped her cigarette to discard some of the ash on the end. “You know all the rules the NCR instituted to protect enemy prisoners of war?”
“Of course.”
She took a long drag of her cigarette, then exhaled before continuing. “My friend doesn't.”
SIlus furrowed his brow and scowled, but said nothing.
Arcade nodded. “I think I will.”
Boyd took another drag of her cigarette before turning to the door again. “Oh, and Silus? If you resist at all, I'll personally blow your brains out.”
She opened the door and leaned against the open doorway, “Come on in. He's all yours. I'll be back in a bit to see how you're getting along. And I'll need you to surrender your weapons before you go in. You can pick them up from the locker on your way out.”
Guy put away his rifle and his pistol as Arcade stepped out of the room. Silus stared at him through the window as he closed the locker and headed through the door, into the interrogation room.
“Have fun.” Boyd closed the door behind him.
Guy approached, taking off his coat and placing it on the back of the chair opposite to Silus. “Hello, Silus. I would say good to meet you, but I’m not a liar.” He sat down.
Silus looked at the window. “Who was that with you? A Follower? They’re more docile than most. Much easier to capture. Hardly put up a fight. That one in particular seems weak. Weak in build and weak in character.”
Guy knew that he should have had Arcade step out earlier. He was getting a bit angry, but he was able to push it down. “We’re not here to speak about me, Silus, we’re here to talk about you.”
Silus narrowed his eyes, turning back to Guy. “I’m not. What pile of excrement did the lieutenant pluck you from, worm?”
“I think you’re mistaken, Silus. I’m with the excrement now.”
“You must have some reason to be in your line of work. Tell me, what did the Legion do to you? Did we enslave your children? Slaughter your family before your eyes to teach you a lesson? Whatever it was, I hope I was there to give the order.”
“You must miss giving orders. Now that your soldiers are dead.” Guy smiled pleasantly.
“Foot soldiers of the Legion are trained to not have to think for themselves - to have conflict removed from their minds. They kill themselves to evade capture because they are not trusted to make such a decision rationally in the heat of battle. But I'm no foot soldier. I knew I could escape captivity on my own, without revealing the tiniest iota of information to my captors.”
Guy chuckled. “Oh, Silus, we both know that’s a lie. You’re just too gutless to follow Caesar’s orders.”
Silus clenched his fists tight enough to turn them white. “I'll show you gutless, you sniveling bastard. I'll spill your guts all over this room!”
“Is something the matter, Silus? You look upset.” Boyd commented as she stepped inside. “Here, maybe you'd better step out for a moment. You've upset him,” She grinned off-hand to Guy before turning back to Silus.
“Your friend is a miserable fucking degenerate.”
“I don't know, I thought he seemed like a nice guy.”
Guy stepped outside and watched Boyd continue.
“If we were on the other side of the river, I'd have him torn apart by dogs.” Silus glared at him through the window.
“That's a long walk, Silus. I don't think it's gonna happen. You'd better just talk.”
“Your tactics are a joke.”
“If you don't like dealing with me, I can bring my friend back in.”
“Both of you can rot.”
Boyd shrugged. “Have it your way.” She turned back to the window into the other room. “Come on back in. I think he misses you.”
Guy headed in past her as she exited and sat back down while Silus continued glaring at him.
“Hello, Silus.”
“We don't have anything to discuss, worm.”
“Oh, we do.” Guy leaned forward, still smiling. “I really am curious how a coward could get as far up the ranks as you did. I suppose the Legion must have very low standards, hm?”
Silus scowled further. “I've led charges against men with guns carrying only my knife, and I can tell you, it was they who feared me. But suicide is a weak death on a battlefield. It says to your enemy that you fear capture. It says if you're caught you can be broken.”
“And you look so much weaker when you can’t go through with it.”
Silus clenched his fists again. “You think I'm going to slit my throat for some megalomaniacal self-appointed dictator? I didn't work my way up to have it all be taken from me out of some irrational paranoia. Caesar's losing it. I believe that. He's been shutting himself in his tent. Privately, he complains of headaches. Whatever it is, it's affecting his ability to lead.”
Guy paused, then decided to simply keep his mouth shut and listen.
“Time was essential for my mission, but we waited three days for him to dispatch us. Another of his headaches. Does that sound like a man in command?” At this point, Silus seemed to be rambling more to himself than to Guy. “He has an operative planted in this very base, but does he use his agent to rescue me? No. He's content to have the agent spend his nights radioing troop positions back to our base camp. He knows I'm here, and he's left me to rot. I haven't breathed a word about the officer we planted here - he continues to radio intelligence to Caesar's camp nearly every night. I've proven my loyalty. All you're doing is killing a loyal soldier. If that's Caesar's policy, then I say his empire will crumble.”
“Who’s this operative?”
“I don't know. I know he sends intelligence by radio in the middle of the night. Sometimes that intelligence would find its way to my century. If I did, I would not tell you. Even as they have left me to die here, my loyalty remains.”
“...I see.” Guy stood up and grabbed his coat. “Thank you, Silus. You’ve been very helpful. Though, I can’t say for sure what they’ll do with you now that no one, Legion nor NCR, has much use for you. If I had to guess?” He put his coat back on, his smile slipping off his face. “You’re going to die here. Alone, left behind. A coward.”
“I hope the Legion burns your wretched body at the stake when they conquer this place. Nothing I could tell you would do anything to stop that.”
Guy stood up and turned to leave while Silus muttered something angrily to himself in a language Guy didn’t understand.
Boyd, having watched from behind the window, nodded approvingly as he closed the door behind himself.
“You did well. I don't know how you did it without putting a scratch on him, and I'm a little disappointed personally, but it saved the NCR some face. And it could save us more than that when all is said and done. I'm gonna talk to some people when we're through here.” She paused for a moment to look through her pockets for a couple pouches of caps, then handed it to Guy. “This is about double the standard fee we'd give a ‘consultant,’ but from what I saw, you're more of an artist. So think of this as your commission. 300 caps.”
“Thank you. It was really a pleasure.”
“Yeah, I’m surprised you kept your cool after he was being such a cocky asshole about your Follower friend.”
“Oh, he likes to talk big. I prefer to act. See you around, Boyd.” He smiled politely as he grabbed his guns and headed to the door.
“See ya.”

Arcade stood up from where he was leaning on the wall next to the door as Guy left. Chico stood up and wagged his tail happily.
“How did it go?”
“Well. Though, on the downside, there seems to be a spy here.” Guy frowned. “I suppose I’ll come back and check it out once I’m sure Julie and the others are okay in Freeside.”
“Right.” Arcade looked around, a bit nervously. “It’s a little worrying that they haven’t found him yet.”
“Certainly. Caesar’s spies are more insidious than you would think, however. Silus is a loud-mouth, but he seems to me to be an exception to the rule.” Guy noted as they continued downstairs.
“That’s…even more worrying.”

It didn’t take them long to make it back to Freeside, where the Kings loitering outside seemed much more affable than when Guy had first arrived, though, not much more so. Much to Guy’s surprise, as they headed for the Old Mormon Fort, they spotted Andrew just outside, just on his way in through the gate. He noticed Guy and Arcade, as well, and approached to meet them in front of the Fort.
“Guy. Arcade. Good to see you again.” He nodded curtly. His dog trotted up next to him and looked back at Chico.
“And you as well.” Guy smiled in return. “What’s your business in Freeside?”
“I won’t be here long. I told you last time, I had to leave for a time, but my work has brought me here once again.” Andrew paused. “...So. Have you heard of the Chairmen?”
“Of the Tops? I have.”
“And of their leaders? Benny and Swank?”
“Yes, in fact, I’ve spoken to them. Not that…the former is much for conversation.”
Andrew raised a brow. “Is that so?”
“Something’s bothering him, but I don’t know much beyond that.”
“I see.” Andrew nodded contemplatively. “Anyway. How are you?” He glanced at Arcade. “Both of you?”
“We’re both good, at the moment. We had some business in Westside.”
“Westside. Hm. I haven’t been. Perhaps I should.”
“They could always use some extra cash flow up there.” Arcade added.
“In that case, once my business here is over, I’ll go pay it a visit. What are you doing at the moment?”
“We were actually about to speak to Julie Farkas. I was planning on giving her and the Followers a donation in caps.”
“I see. I really should do the same. I owe the Followers, after all.”
“Why’s that?” Arcade questioned.
“Ah, it’s…” Andrew hesitated for a moment. “My parents died when I was young. Other than Alice, a Follower woman took care of me. I actually named dear Alice after her. My parents taught me to read, but she taught me to read for more than basic comprehension, as well as a bit of Latin. It’s been handy going through…Legion controlled areas.”
“Right.” Arcade nodded. “She sounds like a good woman.”
“She was. She passed away not long after we met. I wish I had more time with her.” Andrew shrugged. “But, that’s life, I suppose.”
“I suppose so. My condolences.” Guy replied solemnly.
Andrew paused. “I think I will pay them a donation. Thank you for reminding me, Guy.”
“It’s no problem, Andrew.” Guy smiled politely. “Would you like to come in with us, then?”
“I must ensure my business here is well-founded, first. But I will do so, soon. I’m sure the Followers can attest to that later.”
Andrew headed over to the gates at the end of the street as they continued into the Fort. As they headed past the sandbags around the gates, a ghoul woman, presumably one of the other mercenaries standing guard, sat up and got their attention.
“Lookin’ for Julie?”
“We are. Usually she’s out here in the, er, courtyard, as it were.” Guy looked around for Julie’s distinctive haircut.
“Hey, Beatrix.” Arcade held up his hand in a small, polite wave.
“Arcade. This a new man, then?”
“He’s a friend, Beatrix.”
She chortled. “Sure, buddy.” She then turned to Guy. “Nice to meet ya. Name’s Beatrix Russell.”
“Nice to meet you, Miss Beatrix Russell. Guy de Devaul.” Guy held out his hand.
She firmly shook it and leaned back in her chair. “Mmhm. Well, last I heard, Julie’s in that watchtower over there, prepping the operating room.” She pointed at one of the watchtowers built into the fort walls, just right of the entrance.
“I see. Well, I don’t want to interrupt her if she’s at work.” Guy turned back to Beatrix after looking over at the tower and smiled politely. “In the meantime, why don’t you tell me about yourself, Beatrix?”
She snorted. “You flirting with me, pal? It’d be the first in a while.”
“I can’t say I am, I’m afraid.”
“Hmph. At least you’re nice about it.” Beatrix sighed and sat up, leaning forward with her elbows on her knees. “I've been around a while. Currently working for the Followers as a gun for hire, but it's getting rather dull. Aside from protecting them from the occasional thug looking to intercept supply shipments, there isn't much to do around here. The one researcher I liked who I could chat up about liquor got transferred, and the rest of the docs are pretty uptight about my kind of fun.”
“Sorry I don’t purposely destroy my liver for fun,” Arcade replied dryly.
“Exactly.”
“So, then, what are you doing here with the Followers?” Guy questioned.
“I joined up looking for a decent-paying job. Granted, the pay is all right, but they won't let me kick back and slog a brew at the end of the day. They're worried the filthy drunkies in detox seeing me drink will cause an immediate relapse. I say their rehab effort here is just a revolving door.”
“Jacob’s making actual progress.” Arcade interjected indignantly. “We don’t want to risk anything.”
“Oh, sure, ‘progress.’ That’s what you say about everyone.”
“We have to try, Beatrix.”
She simply shrugged.
“So, you’ve probably seen a lot over the years, hm?” Guy decided to divert the conversation.
“I've been around long enough to observe patterns of human behavior. Physical and mental anguish are especially exciting to explore.” She grinned.
“That’s...cryptic, Beatrix. And a bit concerning.”
“Hey, who doesn't enjoy a little pinch and squeal every once in a while?”
“Well, maybe not so oft-”
“No,” Arcade replied bluntly, glancing at Guy when he noticed him speaking.
“What’d I say?” Beatrix chortled again.
“Arcade, Guy!” They looked at the watchtower again as Julie exited, waving at them.
“Julie! Nice to see you again.” Guy turned to Julie as she approached.
“Same here.” She nodded at Arcade. “And you too, of course, Arcade. Did you find anything?”
“Not a whole lot of medical supples, I’m afraid, but I could donate some caps.”
“Anything’s appreciated.”
Guy grabbed the caps from his coat pocket he had counted out for Julie and handed them over.
“Thank you again.” Julie smiled as she gratefully took the caps.
“Oh, it’s quite alright. I would have more to spare, but…”
“But?”
“We got mugged.” Arcade finished dejectedly.
“Oh! Are you okay?” She looked between them, concerned.
“Don’t worry, no one got hurt. Except for my finances, I suppose.” Guy chuckled half-heartedly.
“Have you heard of, er, the Shaws?” Arcade added.
“Who?” Julie raised a brow. “Is that who robbed you?”
“Yeah.”
“Sorry, I can’t say I have. Usually we have pretty good tabs on Westside.” Julie paused to think for a moment. “All I know of is the Scorpions, but…whoever the ‘Shaws’ are, they must have only just got here.”
“I suppose so.” Guy sighed. “Well. Nothing to be done about it. Anyway, I was thinking of looking through the ruins south of here, see if I can find some actual medical supplies instead of just a couple of caps. Have any of you looked around there recently?”
“Not recently, no. I figure it’s as good a place to check as any.”
“Right, well.” Guy stretched his arms and turned back to Arcade. “I figure I’ll grab a drink or two at the Atomic Wrangler, and get to work tomorrow. It’s been…a long couple of days.”
“Couldn’t agree more.” Arcade sighed heavily.
“I can’t blame you. Trust me, you’ve done more than enough as it is.”
“Ah, right, Julie. A man named Andrew should be coming by soon with some more donations. At least, that’s what he told me.”
“Is that so? Well, I’ll let you know if he’s good on his word.”

Luci and the others decided to camp out by the 188 after they made their way back around Black Mountain, satisfied with their work there. The night was dark and cold, as per usual, but the 188 provided a little glowing beacon in the Mojave. They were all too beat to really talk too much, and so went to bed fairly quickly after they had arrived at the 188.

“Ugh. It’s so hot.” Rob whined loudly.
“No shit, it’s Nevada,” Jake replied drily, “Y’know, you’re kinda funny at first, but now you’re just getting on my nerves.”
“Oh, I’m getting on your nerves, am I, you-”
“It was the hottest just after the nukes, boss,” Raul replied absentmindedly.
“Really?” Jake turned to him.
“Yeah.” He shrugged.
“I bet ya have a lot of good stories, Raul.” Luci commented.
“Well, I am an open book, boss. Granted, the book's in Spanish and some of the pages have fallen out, but I'm an open book.”
“Good thing I speak Spanish, wey.”
“Alright, boss.”
“Hey, c’mon. I prefer that to ‘boss’.”
“With all due respect, boss, an old man calling people wey sounds, eh…stupid.”
“What’s that mean?” Jake looked between them.
“Like, ‘dude’.” Luci grinned.
“Oh. Yeah, it’s kinda weird for an old guy to say that.”
“Hey, he can say whatever he wants!” Veronica added chipperly. “Even if it sounds sorta stupid.”
“That’s encouraging, boss.”
“You’re welcome!”
“So, anyway. If you’re willing to answer some questions, man, how’d you get up to Black Mountain?”
“Well, boss, when a giant, insane Super mutant asks you to stay put, you do what you're told,” Raul paused, then shrugged again. “Well, maybe you don't, but I'm just a broke down old man.”
“Hey, c’mon, man, I don’t believe that for a second.”
“That you could fight against a super mutant, boss?”
“That you’re just a ‘broke down old man.’ I saw you with them guns, and I ain’t never seen someone draw their arms that fast.”
“Drawing the guns is one thing, shooting with them is another. I got arthritis, boss, I can’t stop my hands from shaking for my life.”
“Pfft. If you wanna be humble, that’s your call. But how’d Tabitha even find you in the first place?”
Raul sighed and shook his head. “Ah, it's stupid, boss. I used to listen to the radio broadcasts, just to pass the time. Well, one day the signal stops, so I figured I'd try to find transmitter. I'm a pretty good repairman, or I was before the eyes started to go. Anyway, I found Black Mountain and offered my services, but Tabitha decided I was useful enough to keep around. Permanently.”
“That’s exactly why you don’t do nice things for people without payment,” Rob mumbled.
“You’re a real optimist, Rob,” Raul added drily.
“Yeah. I’m just saying, as a fellow repairman. I never do anything until I’m shown caps, or a gun to my face. I usually avoid trouble that way.”
“Usually?”
“Well, Raul, I’m a popular man, and most men find it difficult to resist me. It creates some issues.” Rob grinned braggadociously.
“That’s too much information, Rob.”
“Then perhaps you’d like to know about the women who love me. A little fewer and farther between, but not everyone’s tastes are refined enough, I suppose.”
“Not really.”
“So, anyhow,” Luci interjected, not really wanting to hear much more about Rob’s love life, “What’re you good at, Raul?”
Raul sighed deeply and rubbed his chin a little as he thought for a minute. “I'm not much use besides being a portable encyclopedia, really. I guess you could use me as a pack brahmin, but my knees aren't so good any more.”
“I call bullshit. What about that stuff you did with your guns? All that cowboy stuff?” Jake questioned enthusiastically.
“That's nice of you to say, boss, but I'm an old man. Not much use to anybody any more. Time was, I was a pretty good shot with a pistol. I guess I'm still half-decent. These old bones aren't much use in hand-to-hand fighting, though. I can also do maintenance work on your stuff - I don't have the supplies for a real repair job, but I can keep your gear working longer.”
“Sounds good. You’ll have to teach me the ropes, man.” Luci grinned. “I’m pretty decent at patchin’ up my guns, but only once they’re broke.”
“I’ll see about it, boss.”
“See? Old guys can be helpful, too, man.”
“Yeah?” Raul snorted. “Maybe you can introduce them to me if we find them, because I've never met one.”
“I guess you can’t really meet yourself.” Luci paused. “So. Where are you from, man? I mean, I’d recognize the accent anywhere, but, y’know, specifically.”
“I was born just outside Mexico City. My family had a little ranch there.”
“Um, okay, short and sweet.” Luci chuckled. “How old’re you, then? If you can remember the nukes droppin’.”
“Old enough to know better, boss. Old enough to know better.”
“Well, you seem older than Charon.” Jake gently elbowed Charon. “Hey, Charon, were you alive when the bombs dropped?”
Charon grunted, mostly as a reaction to Jake elbowing him.
“Real conversationalist, huh, boss?” Raul chuckled lightly.
“Yep, that’s Charon.” Jake pat Charon on the back affectionately. Charon remained quiet, prompting Jake to fill the silence. “...Sooo, what’s Petro-Chico?” He pointed at the logo on Raul’s jumpsuit.
“You never heard of Petro-Chico, un Amigo de Poseidon Energy?” Raul clicked his tongue. “Ah, of course not. They were an oil company in Mexico, back before the war. They’ve got some gas stations around here, though.” Raul cleared his throat. “...So. Why’re we going to Vegas, boss? You just wanna lose your caps as quick as possible?”
“Nah. Looking for someone.”
“A friend, apparently?” Veronica looked sideways at Luci.
“Not exactly.” Jake looked at her as well. “Right?”
“Heh. Yeah. But I don’t want him catchin’ on somehow. If’n someone hears.”
“...Alright.”
“Anyone know about Vegas, anyhow?”
“Well, it's your typical city layout. Rich people in a gated community surrounded by extreme poverty.” Veronica shrugged. “House gave the area around the Strip to the locals, but he has no interest in it, so he ignores it entirely. It just needs new management.” She lowered her voice and leaned towards Luci and Jake. “I'd love to see the Brotherhood do it, but since the Codex doesn't say ‘clean up Freeside’ no one listens to me. Bunch of sticklers.”
“What did she say?” Rob questioned suspiciously.
“Oh, I was just telling them how awesome class disparity is,” Veronica replied sarcastically, though still with a humorous grin.
“Sod off.”
“Don’t know what that means!”
Luci looked up at the towering spire marking Vegas. So close, yet so far. But at least she wouldn’t have to spend much more time thinking about what to do with Benny. She’d made her mind up a while ago. As she looked up at the sky, she also noticed a tall, dark cloud approaching from the west.
“Hm. I guess it is about time for rainy season.”
“Huh?” Jake looked up, noticing the clouds. “Ah, shit.”
Veronica whistled. “Man. You never have to worry about this when you live underground.”
Rob blinked. “What?”
“I said, you never-”
“Yeah, nevermind.”
Luci looked up ahead, where the road curved to the northeast. “There’s some overpasses up ahead. We can hide out there when the rain comes.”
“Yeah, sure. It’s just gonna be boring.” Jake looked back at Luci, noticing she was still squinting at the overpasses up ahead. “What’s up?”
“...Thought I saw something.” Luci drew her pistol under her poncho.
“...Alright. Let’s stay on guard, then.”
They continued towards the overpasses cautiously. Just as they approached the first, lower overpass, a man stepped out from the side at the other end, dressed in metal armor, similar to that of some of the other legionaries Luci had seen. They stopped just as they saw him from their side.
“The Caesar has marked you for death, and the Legion obeys.” He drew a rifle. “Ready yours-”
After having looked for a gap in the armor as he spoke, Luci cut him off with a shot directly through the side of his neck. As he stumbled back, reaching for his neck, other Legionaries stepped out from their hiding places on the sides of the other end of the overpass, opening fire. Luci gasped as a bullet ripped through her shoulder, but had the wherewithal to pull Veronica, Raul, and Rob to one side of the overpass. Just as she did, Charon pushed Jake and Boone to the side, fired off a few rounds that killed one Legionary and crippled another, and ducked into cover with them.
“Y’all alright?” Luci barked over the sound of gunfire.
“As good as I can be! Why the fuck-” Rob began.
Before he could finish, another Legionary charged up past the overpass and was about to swing a machete at Luci’s head before Veronica leapt up and punched him in the stomach, sending him flying backwards. Judging from the way he hit the road, the hit had killed him.
“Gah, fuck! Oh my god!” Rob gasped, scrambling backwards.
Raul stood up and peeked out from behind their cover. “I don’t see any more of them charging up like that.” He jumped as they heard Boone’s rifle sound twice, dropping two legionaries just before the rest ducked for cover themselves.
Luci fired her pistol up in the air once, coaxing one of the Legionaries out of cover long enough for her to drop him.
“One left, boss?”
“If I counted right.”
Luci heard the sound of a body dropping from just past the overpass. She looked over at Boone and Jake. Both shrugged.
“Hell was that?”
“How should I know?” Raul replied in a rather grouchy tone.
“...Alrigh’. I’ll check.”
Luci headed down through the overpass, Boone quickly following her. She stepped out the other side, keeping her pistol at the ready, but lowered it when she saw that the last Legionary had cut his throat behind cover. Judging from his armor, he was lower rank than the one that spoke first. As were a few others. Luci holstered her pistol.
“Good fuckin’ riddance.”
“Couldn’t agree more.” Boone looked around, still keeping his rifle at the ready. “Keep an eye out. They crawl out of the woodwork like radroaches.”
“I can imagine.” Luci turned to the others and waved them over. “It’s over. I’m pretty sure.”
“Jesus.” Jake commented, glancing at the body before looking back at the road. “I mean, I’ve seen ‘em do it before, but…still.”
“Cowards.” Boone finally slung his rifle back over his shoulder.
“I mean…” Jake trailed off, looking back at Charon. “Hey, Charon, I think you took a couple hits.”
“Mm.” Charon grunted.
“Wouldja mind patchin’ me up too, doc?” Luci questioned, pointing at the hole in her shoulder.
“Yeah, of course. Did anyone else get hit?”
“Nope. Thanks to Luci.” Veronica pat Luci on the shoulder.
“And I didn’t get my head cut off thanks to you.” Luci grinned.
“You’re very welcome.”
After having looked around a bit more, Boone kneeled down next to the body of the man Luci had shot first and stripped him of his bullets.
“Do they got anything?” Luci questioned, turning over one of the bodies.
“Just about the only good thing about them is that they come well-supplied. Take what you can.” Boone stood up after having also grabbed a bag of dried fruit and a bottle of water.

After Jake patched up Luci and Charon, they were able to push on to the next overpass before the rain started to fall. Rob was the first to sit down by the side of the road, looking none too pleased about the weather. Jake headed over and tossed down some sticks he had collected on their way there.
“You guys wanna start a fire or something?”
“Why would we want to start a fire when it’s so bloody hot already?” Rob snapped.
“I thought it would be fun!” Jake threw up his hands exasperatedly.
“Sure, why not. Rain’ll cool everything down, anyhow.” Luci kneeled down next to the pile of sticks and grabbed a scrap of paper from her bag. Dante pushed his head under her arm and sniffed at the engraved lighter as Luci used it to light the paper.
“Pfft. C’mon, Dante.” She tucked the paper under the pile of sticks as the others started to sit down nearby. “I swear, he’d get himself set on fire if I weren’t around.”
“Aw. It’s not his fault he’s a dummy,” Veronica cooed as she scratched his head.
“I can still call him a dummy.”
Raul coughed, looking at Dante as he leaned forward, resting his arms on his knees. “Been a long time since I’ve seen a cat, boss.”
“Yeah. Hope he ain’t the only one left. Might get a little lonely.”
“Well, he’s not lonely if he’s with us, right?” Jake added positively.
“Heh. Yeah, I s’pose not.”
Jake stretched his arms and sat back, looking at the rain out from under the overpass. “So…how long do you think it’ll be?”
“Hm…During rainy season, it pours like hell for…maybe a day at a time, then stops for a while.”
“In that case, let’s tell some stories!” Jake sat up enthusiastically. “Okay, who wants to hear about the time I got abducted by aliens?”
“...Huh?”
“You did not get abducted by aliens.” Charon grunted. Luci was surprised to hear him speak so long.
“Yes, I did! How else do you explain when I went missing for, like, a week?”
“I don’t know. But that ‘thing’ didn’t work.”
“I dunno why the teleporter didn’t work, but I felt it bring me back from the ship! I saw those aliens, man! And a samurai!”
Raul looked at Veronica and Luci with an expression that Luci could only describe as confusion and deep concern. Luci looked back at Jake, raising a brow.
“What in the Sam hell is a samurai?”
“Like-Nevermind, it happened!”
Charon sighed heavily.
“...Alrigh’. Raul, I bet you got some good stories.”
“None I really feel like telling right now, boss.” Raul looked past them at the rain.
“...Weell, if everyone’s just either gonna be quiet or crazy-” Veronica began, continuing as Jake opened his mouth to protest. “-I’ll tell a story. Who likes…ghoooost stories?”
“That sounds stupid.” Rob huffed.
“They’re fun, actually.”
“I like a good spooky story.” Luci grinned.
“I mean, yeah.” Jake continued mumbling, “If you don’t like aliens.”
“Okay. Who’s heard the story…of the Puppeteer?” Veronica waved her hands dramatically.
“...That sounds especially stupid.”
“Just shut up and listen. So, years and years ago, when the Great War happened, a guy went into a vault…”

“So, I have to say, I consider myself an optimist. In a way. But what could these houses have?”
Arcade and Guy were rooting through the remains of the suburban pre-war houses on the outskirts of Vegas. Even Guy had to admit it looked a tad hopeless.
“Well, of course these places aren’t outwardly the best scavenging areas, but I don’t really want to head too far today, so we’ll see how this works out. Maybe we;ll find a few secrets.”
“Secrets. Right.”
“Mmhm.”
Guy noticed a pile of scrap metal in the middle of what was presumably an old office and pulled on a pair of his thickest gloves to dig through it. He bagged the most intact pieces, as well as a few electrical parts and batteries.
“Y’see? Conduct…” He stopped himself when he saw the termal he had uncovered from under the scrap metal. It was attached to the flooring, and was a little below the floor level. It looked like it had been covered by something long burned away. He brushed away more scrap metal and scraps of the burnt flooring to uncover a safe next to it.
“Interesting. Arcade, could you take a shot at this terminal?”
Arcade headed over to the terminal and kneeled beside Guy. “Huh. Probably. Let me try my hand at it.”
Guy sat down and watched Arcade take a few shots at it. He only had a single attempt left when he finally cracked it.
“Fantastic,” Guy stood up and looked around. “You grab what’s in there, I’ll see if there’s any other secrets around here.”
“Doubt it, but sure.”
Guy had been searching for a bit, finding some more pieces of scrap metal scattered around the house, before Arcade approached him again.
“Well?”
“Uh, some emergency medical kits, pre-war currency, some books...and, uh...some ammunition.”
“Ah! Decent haul. I know some people like collecting those pre-war dollars, they’d love that. The books might sell, too. I imagine they’re still in decent condition after being in that safe for so long.”
“Well…”
“What?”
“...I’ve been looking for another copy of The Iliad since I had to give mine back to the Followers’ Collection.” Arcade sheepishly rubbed the back of his neck.
“Aw. You can keep it, of course.”
“Thanks.”
“Anything else?”
“Uh, no.”
“Are you sure?”
“Yes, I’m sure.”
“Well, I know you wouldn’t lie to me,” Guy smiled sweetly.
“Don’t try to guilt-trip me, it won’t work.”
“Why, are you?”
Arcade sighed and stepped out of the old house, “Okay. Next house?”
Not long after they had started searching the next old house, Guy noticed Arcade peeking out from under the half-crumbling roof.
“Huh.”
“What?”
“Did you see that cloud before?”
Guy looked out at the sky from under the roof and spotted the dark, fluffy cloud quickly encroaching on them. Not long after they had noticed it, he noticed the first few fat drops of rain.
“Oh, dear. Is it time for the rainy season already?”
“Seems like it.” Arcade sighed and stepped back under the roof. “So, what do we do?”
“What do you think?” Guy headed back to the other end of the building and sat down, leaning against the wall. “We wait.”
“Yeah, should’ve guessed.” Arcade sat next to him as Chico curled up at his other side.
“Sorry. I should’ve been keeping an eye on the weather.”
“Nah, it’s fine. We all make mistakes. Better that we make them when it’s not too important.”
“Wise words, indeed.”
“I mean, not really. Just common sense.” Arcade took off his bag and his coat and sighed. “So. What do we do?”
Guy grinned flirtatiously. “Oh, I don’t know what. What shall we do alone until the rain stops?”
“...I know what you’re getting at, but this is a pretty gross place to do that.”
“...Yeah, I suppose so.” Guy paused. “So, how about that book you picked up?”
“The Iliad? What about it?”
“Would you mind if I read it? Just to pass the time.”
“It’s, uh, a pretty heavy read.” Arcade pulled the book from his bag and flipped through it. “I mean, it’s like a…song…poetry piece…that’s been translated from Latin. This one, at least. Most translations try to stay as close to the source material as possible, so it’s…pretty dense. Has a lot of words that most people definitely don’t know.”
“Oh.” Guy paused. “Well…perhaps you could read it to me.”
“I’m…not really good at putting on voices, or…doing anything like that.”
“Well, I was more so asking for you to…further translate it for me a little.” Guy smiled politely. “If you’re okay with that, anyway.”
“Oh. Uh…I guess I don’t mind.” Arcade opened the book.
“So, what’s it about?”
“It’s about the Trojan war.”
“...Which is…?”
“A war that happened…or, supposed to have happened, a really, really long time ago. Really old, even before the War. Before even what the Legion’s trying to imitate. And, er…” Arcade paused. “I guess you could say it’s less about the Trojan War and more about the people fighting in it. On both sides. It’s really a story about…being a soldier, and what war does to you. I guess.”
“Sounds interesting. So?”
“Well, first, I should probably give you the run-down on how it started. Or, supposedly, how it started.”

Chapter Text

As Luci predicted, the rain thinned, and then stopped completely by twilight. They decided to push on down the road further to find a less open area to stay in - hopefully an old building, somewhere easy to defend. Not long after they started on their way down the road, Luci saw someone light a barrel fire far up the road, the light made even more obvious by the reflection off of the puddles in the road. They continued cautiously, but after coming close enough, Luci saw that it was just a couple of NCR soldiers, their frames outlined by the barrel fire and their faces lit by their cigarettes. They, if anything, looked more tense than Luci and the others did.
“Hey. Uh. What business you got here?” The younger of them, a red-faced young man, piped up. He didn’t reach for his pistol immediately, but he was clearly ready to do so.
“We’re on our way to Vegas, man.” Luci pointed at the city, now just nearby, and grinned. “What else?”
“...Alright. Just making sure.” The man relaxed just a bit.
“Y’know a good place to stay for the night?”
The man looked around. “Hm. Yeah, you might get jumped if you try n’ go to the gates right now.”
The young woman next to him pointed up the concrete walls next to the road as it curved upwards. “Just up there’s the old pump station. Good a place as any to hole up.”
“Sounds good. Thanks, miss.” Luci nodded gratefully and led the way past the NCR soldiers, up the road.
Just as the other soldier had said, an old, two-story brick building lay just up by the road, with various pipes leading into it and the smaller concrete building next to it, true to its name. Around the front of the building, opposite the road, lay the door into the building.
Luci headed in first, keeping her pistol up as she slowly opened the door and peeked inside. The mid-sized room inside seemed to have been used as a break room a long time ago. It was now in disarray, with chairs and junk strewn about the floors. A terminal was on a desk at the other end of the room, surprisingly still functioning.
“Hey, this isn’t half-bad.” Jake commented, looking around before shouldering his bag and placing it on the ground by the opposite wall. “Alright. Let’s talk shifts.”
Luci headed over to the desk and looked at the terminal screen. “Huh. One sec. Rob, hey, can ya make anything of this?”
Rob sighed dramatically, tossing his bag down and pushing past Luci to look at the terminal. “Hm. Seems like data corruption. I think it’s just the interface, though.”
“So, uh, can ya fix it?”
“Depends. How much are you willing to pay for it?”
Luci sighed. “20 caps.”
“20?”
“Talking to that guy cost 50.”
“And this is easily more skilled work.”
“60.”
Rob huffed. “Fine. Caps first.”
Luci handed over the caps, and Rob leaned over the terminal, typing in some commands to access the damage before stepping back over to his bag, grabbing a notebook, and looking through it.
“What’re you doin’?”
“Looking at my notes. Even I forget the fixes for this crap sometimes.”
“Remind me why I shouldn’t just take that from you and solve this shit myself.” Luci stepped over, looking over his shoulder.
“Do you understand even the most basic coding?”
“...Nah.”
“Then you wouldn’t understand a bloody word of this.” Rob stood up, still looking at his notebook as he stepped over to the terminal, and seemingly fixed it. “There. Just a problem with the network connection. And a minor display issue, apparently.” Rob squinted at the text. “Hm.”
“What?”
“That’s concerning.”
Luci stepped over and looked over his shoulder to see a warning regarding a possible radiation leak, though it also said that there were no leaks onsite.
“Shit.”
“What is it?” Jake questioned, standing up after rolling out his bedroll.
“Says there’s a radiation leak in the water flow. Not here, though.”
“Ah, shit, for real?” Jake sighed. “If only everywhere had a water purifier.”
“I assume it wouldn’t be needed if this leak wasn’t present.” Rob shrugged indifferently and stood up, stepping past Luci to his bag, with ED-E following dutifully. “Not our problem, anyhow.”
“If we’re gonna wanna drink any of the water they’re pumping through here, yeah, it’s our problem,” Jake replied indignantly.
“Great. Maybe I’ll die faster that way.” Rob turned his back to them to roll out his bedroll.

By the time the rain thinned, Guy and Arcade had already decided to stay in the old house for the night. Guy lay on his bedroll, staring up at the dark ceiling for a while.
“Are you asleep?” Guy asked quietly.
“If I was, I wouldn’t be now.”
“Heh.” Guy sighed. “How do you feel?”
“...In general, or...about something in particular?”
“About all this. Coming with me.”
“...It hasn’t been too bad. It’s actually been quite nice.”
“Really?”
“Yeah. I mean, there’s been more than a few times I’ve, er…felt a little scared for my life, for lack of better words. But, honestly…” Arcade paused. “I dunno. Maybe I needed it. Either way, I mean…I wouldn’t have it another way. Right now, at least.”
Guy smiled. “Hm. That’s good to hear.” He paused. “...Are you, er…are you my friend?”
“Hm?”
“I mean, do you consider me your friend? I consider you a friend.”
“Oh…Yeah. I do. I just realized, I haven’t had a friend other than Julie for a while.”
“Aw. You’d be popular if you got out more often.”
“I highly doubt that, but I appreciate the sentiment.”
“Heh. Well…I’m…happy about that.” Guy paused again. “I move around so often, I don’t have many friends I’m still in contact with. Except for Chico, of course.”
“...And he’s a dog.”
“Arcade!”
“What?”
“He’s a very good boy. Don’t call him that.”
“A...Dog?”
“You know what I mean.”
“Dog in a derogatory way?”
“Yes!”
“I don’t think I really get that, but...sure. Sorry, Chico.”
Guy smiled and whistled gently to Chico, who, previously laying on his blanket by Guy’s feet, crawled over to Guy’s arms and rested his head on his chest.
“Thank you.”
“He is a very good dog, to be fair,” Arcade replied humorously.
“Heh. Well, goodnight.”
“Yeah. Night.”

Luci woke early the next day to find that Jake wasn’t in his sleeping bag. She turned to Charon, who seemingly was on watch.
“Hey. Bud. Where’d Jake go?”
Charon pointed to the entrance. “Cistern.”
“Alrigh’. Thanks.” Luci stood up and decided to wait to grab her poncho, as Dante was still sleeping on it.
“Don’t worry. I did not let him take his gun.” Charon leaned back against the wall where he was sitting.
Luci didn’t really know what that meant, but it sounded like she shouldn’t pry further.
She assumed that the smaller concrete structure just outside the main building was the cistern, and, judging from the water tank, the scattered tools, and Jake’s presence inside, she guessed right. He was inspecting the water tank and the many pipes leading out of it. Dogmeat was sitting by his side, looking somewhat bored, but still happy to be with his friend. He and Jake turned to Luci when she entered. Dogmeat stood up, his tail wagging.
“Heya, boy.” Luci scratched Dogmeat under the chin when he trotted up to her.
“Hey, Luci.” Jake chuckled sheepishly. “Sorry, you must’ve been worried.”
“Nah, it’s alrigh’. Just checkin’. What’re you doin’?”
“Oh. Well, uhm. I know it said that the leak is somewhere else, but…” He looked back at the water tank and shrugged. “I dunno. I just wanted to make sure it wasn’t wrong. Check that everything’s okay here before we move on.”
“...Alrigh’.” Luci shrugged and walked up to Jake, looking at the pipes. “Well, if there’s two of us, we can check all the pipes faster. Plus, everywhere you already checked can get a once-over. How ‘bout it?”
Jake cracked a small smile. “Sounds good. Thanks.”
“No problem.”
Luci headed to the other side of the water tank and started looking over the pipes exiting it as Jake did the same on his side.
“...So. You said ya wished this place had a water purifier. Like ya saw one somewhere else.”
“Uh, yeah, I did.”
“Didja have one back home?”
“...Yeah, I did. We did, I mean. In D.C.” Jake paused. “Um…my dad made it.”
“Really?”
“Well, I mean, not just him. His friends and, uh…my mom, too. They all made it.”
Luci whistled. “Still. Your pa must be a real smart guy.”
“Yeah. He was.” Jake stopped for a moment, prompting Luci to stay quiet as well until he spoke again. “Y’know, you’re, um…you’re really nice.”
Luci chuckled. “Ya didn’t I think I was?”
“N-No, sorry, I don’t, I just mean, like…” Jake sighed. “It’s just…I mean…I…it’s hard to find anyone who’s just…nice. Just for its own sake. It can just…I guess at some point I just kind of gave up for a while, but…I mean, not just you. Everyone I’ve met here so far. Veronica, and even Raul and Boone, even if they don’t say anything nice. It’s just…thanks.”
Luci smiled a bit. First she’d heard of her being a good person in a while.
“Thanks, kid. You’re a good guy, too.”

They stepped back into the main building to find that most everyone was awake at this point. Veronica looked up as she fit her Power Fist on her hand and stood up, smiling.
“Hey, Luci! Charon told us you guys were in the cistern?”
“Yep. Just makin’ real sure the terminal weren’t wrong ‘bout where that leak is.”
“And why would it be wrong?” Rob questioned irritably. He didn’t look as though he slept particularly well, but, then again, he never did.
“I dunno. Computers make mistakes too.”
“They make mistakes a hell of a lot less than humans. Waste of bloody time.” He switched ED-E back on from where he had placed him next to his bedroll, prompting him to float up and beep again.
“Aw. He’s sorta cute.” Veronica pat ED-E side.
Rob grabbed ED-E and pulled him back. “Hey! No touching! And he’s not ‘sorta’ cute, he is cute!”
“Jeez, sorry.” Veronica huffed and turned to Raul, who was still sleeping on his bedroll in the corner. “By the way, he won’t get up. And I’m pretty sure he’s still alive.”
“Pretty sure?” Luci stepped over, crouched down, and shoved Raul’s shoulder. “Raul!”
“He is out.”
Luci shoved him harder this time. “Hey! Get up, viejo!”
Raul snorted and shot up. “Mm…AH! Petro-Chico Boy! Petro-Chico Boy is here for my chi…cha…rrones,” He trailed off as he looked around, noticing the others. “Oh. Huh. Just a dream.”
“Don’t worry, he’s not gonna steal your chicharrones, wey.” Luci slapped him on the shoulder and grinned as she stood up. “But I am, if you always sleep this long.”
Raul snorted dismissively as he grabbed his gun belt, having put it to the side.
“Sure am.” Luci turned to the others. “Alrigh’, everyone, let’s get goin’.” She looked back at Raul. “Uh. Once Raul’s done.”
“You do wonders for my self-esteem, boss.” Raul rolled up his bedroll and stuffed it into his bag.

They continued down the road, now running just east of Vegas, across some rickety wooden bridges over a couple of dried creek beds now filled with sludge, and into the ruins of outer Vegas, just east of the walled, inner city. They continued through the old, ruined streets, trying to spot a gate in the scrap walls to the west. They eventually found it, in the distance, with multi-color metal sheets set up around it, presumably to mark it more clearly. But Luci was first interested in the concrete fortress just to the north of it, in the ruins of the outer city. As they approached, they found that a couple of caravans entered and exited out of the garage door used as a gate in the middle of the eastern wall, guarded by a few armed guards. The wooden sign just above the gate read “Crimson Caravan.”
“Huh. So this is the headquarters.” Veronica looked up at the concrete walls, topped with barbed wire. “Kind of…hm. I expected it to be more…crimson?”
“I don’t think they’d wanna waste the paint on this.” Jake shrugged. “I mean, the walls do their job one way or another.”
The guards at the gate looked them up and down suspiciously as they approached, prompting Luci to stop and turn to the others.
“Uh, hey. There’s a guy in here I know. Y’all mind if you wait out here a minute?”
“Nah.” Jake shrugged indifferently.
“I knew I should’ve brought a book,” Veronica added contemplatively.
“You can have one of mine.”
“Oooh, what do you have?”
Rob huffed. “Whatever. You dolts can do what you want. We’re going to that gate into Vegas and not…some concrete-shelled dump.”
Rob continued down the road, ED-E floating close behind him. Boone hung back, mumbled a goodbye, and headed after Rob.
Luci looked after them for a moment before turning back to the others and shrugging. “I mean, I don’t really care.”
“I don’t think anyone does, boss.” Raul sighed. It sounded as though in relief.

The Crimson Caravan headquarters consisted of a few small buildings, presumably some for offices and some for living spaces, a small yard for brahmin, and a trading post between some of the buildings in the middle. Luci only needed walk a little ways in before she saw Ringo, speaking to a man at the trading post. He looked up, waved, and headed over with a welcoming smile.
“Hey there! Here's the rest of the payment I promised you back in Goodsprings.” He grabbed a pouch of caps from his pocket and handed them over. “Been saving it ever since I got back.”
“Thanks, man.” Luci pocketed the caps and turned back to Ringo. “So, what’re you gonna do now?”
“I'm getting ready to run a caravan up towards Utah. There's a town called New Canaan which is supposed to be pretty prosperous. The Crimson Caravan doesn't have any branches out that way, so it'll be up to me to get things started.” He puffed out his chest a little as he spoke, clearly at least a little proud.
“Alrigh’.” Luci looked around the place. “So, this is the Crimson Caravan, huh? Who’s in charge ‘round here?”
“That’s Alice McLafferty. You can find her over in the main office.” Ringo pointed to the building by the gates. “I hear she’s offering work, if you need it.”
“Sure, I’ll ask her ‘bout her later. I got business in Vegas at the moment.”
“Really? What kind of business?”
“Personal.”
“Ah. Sorry.” Ringo smiled sheepishly. “Anyway. I really can’t thank you enough for what you did for me back in Goodsprings. Maybe I’ll see you around.”
“Heh. Maybe. Good luck on that trip to Utah.”
“Thanks! Good luck in New Vegas. And be careful, okay?”
“Right back atcha.”

It didn’t take them long to get from the Crimson Caravan headquarters to the gate into New Vegas, or, Freeside, more specifically. The gate led into a wall, if still dingy street, populated mostly by wandering drunks. To the right lay a shop apparently called “Mick and Ralph’s.”
“Alright. So, I haven’t told you, but, uh, Luci, have you heard of the Followers of The Apocalypse?” Jake suddenly turned to Luci after they entered.
“Hm? Sure. They’re good folks. Why?”
“Well, I heard that their base of operations in southern Nevada is here, in Freeside. An old fort, apparently. I was, er…” Jake paused. “Well, they’re usually at least a little short-handed, or so I heard, since their doctors are volunteers for the most part. I thought, y’know, I consider myself a pretty good doctor, and…I could offer some help.”
“Alrigh’. You wanna stop by?”
“Yeah. I mean, you don’t have to come, but…”
“Nah. Sounds good. It’s pro’ly better if I try to blend in ‘fore making a beeline for Benny, anyhow.”
“I know I’m in!” Veronica added enthusiastically. “I’m not a doctor, but, if they need anything fixed, me and Luci have got them covered.”
Raul shrugged. “Same here, I guess. I’m just going where you’re going, boss.”
They headed down the street, and, upon turning where it ended, found that they didn’t have to search long for the fort, as its stone walls took up a good chunk of the northern part of Freeside.

Guy pushed open the gate to the Mormon Fort and looked around inside. Arcade followed him as he headed inside. The Fort was particularly sleepy today, though Guy guessed that, in Freeside, business being slow there was a good thing. Beatrix was by the entrance again, and sat up from her chair upon seeing them.
“Hey, boys. Any luck?”
“Yes, actually. Do you know where Julie is?”
Beatrix pointed to one of the tents by the back. “Over there.”
“Thank you, Beatrix.” Guy smiled politely. “Maybe we can have a drink at the Atomic Wrangler sometime.”
“Pfft. Sure, pretty boy.”
Julie was, indeed, in the tent Beatrix pointed out, which appeared to be more for research than medical care, discussing something with another doctor. She turned to the entrance when she heard them enter and excused herself before turning to them again.
“Guy, Arcade. Good to see you two. What’s going on?”
“I actually found a few relatively intact med kits.”
“Really?” Julie took the medical boxes as Guy handed them over. “Where?”
“One of the houses a little ways from Freeside’s west gate. It was in a locked safe.”
“Is that so? Maybe we should invest in some lockpick training for scavenging,” She pondered before looking back at Guy with a gracious smile. “Anyway, thank you very much.”
“Of course, anytime, Julie.”
Arcade jumped when someone awkwardly tried to knock at the tent flaps, mostly just causing them to flap about.
“Hey? Um, is Julie Farkas in here?” A young man’s voice emanated from outside.
Guy and Arcade took a step back from the entrance, allowing whoever was entering plenty of space to come in as Julie replied.
“Yes, that’s me. You can come in.”
A young black man entered, with tight, curly hair that, despite being tied back, still bounced to and fro when he walked, and a curious outfit of faded green combat armor and a leather jacket. At his heels was a silver and black dog, and following him into the tent was a rather short, wiry woman with long, straight black hair, a red poncho, and a black…little dog on her shoulder. It certainly didn’t look like any other dog Guy had seen. The young man looked a little more tense, while the woman was completely placid. The young man’s tension, however, released when he saw Julie.
“Hey, there! Jacob Morgan, call me Jake.” Jake grinned and held out his hand to Julie.
“Nice to meet you, Mr. Morgan. My name’s Julie Farkas.” Julie smiled politely in return and shook his hand.
“May I say that’s a beautiful name, Julie?”
“Are you flirting with a doctor on the job?” Arcade commented drily.
Jake paused, looking at Arcade. “Uh, is that oookaaay?” He turned back to Julie.
Julie chuckled. “Oh, I’m not angry. But I’m afraid I’m not particularly interested at the moment.”
“Oooh, sorry.” Jake looked at the ground, looking very embarrassed.
“And what’s your name, ma’am?” Julie turned to the even-tempered woman.
“Lucía Perez, miss. Luci’s good. Nice to meetcha.” She grinned placidly. “I hope ya don’t mind, we got some friends outside. But we’re all lookin’ to help.” She slapped Jake on the back. “”Specially Jake here. He’s a doc. Like y’all.” She paused, looking at Guy and Arcade. “Hey, sorry, man, we interrupting somethin’?”
Guy shook his hands dismissively. “Oh, no, not at all! We were just donating some supplies.”
“Hey, alrigh’.”
The woman’s easy-going attitude was oddly endearing, though Guy wasn’t sure if she was really doing it on purpose.
“Well, we’re willing to take whatever help we can get.” Julie replied enthusiastically. “Like Guy was saying, we could always use some medical supplies, but if you can offer medical expertise, that would be great. How experienced would you say you are, Jake?”
“Pretty experienced. I’ve been training since I was like 16. Officially my training ended when I was 19, but, obviously, I’ve been learning more over the past 4 years.”
“I see. That’s promising.” Julie nodded, looking indeed quite hopeful.
“Hey, you’re one of ‘em, too.” Luci interjected, pointing at Arcade.
“Uh. Yeah. I’m just…following him around, I guess.” Arcade gestured to Guy.
“Oh, yes, Guy’s been very helpful, and Arcade is one of our best researchers.”
“Thank you, Julie.” Guy turned to Luci and nodded politely. “Guy de Devaul, sir, ma’am, at your service.”
“And I’m, er…Arcade Gannon.” Arcade introduced himself a little more awkwardly.
“What kinda name’s Arcade?” Luci sounded more humorous than mocking.
Arcade sighed heavily. “...It actually-”
“It comes from the name of the place, Arcadius.” Luci turned to look at Jake as he chimed in. He cleared his throat. “Uh, the, uh...the...It’s Greek. It’s, like…a place…in Greece.”
“That is literally the first time anyone has understood my name.” Arcade raised a brow. “How do you know that?”
“I like reading. Stuff. Classical history, ancient history. Particularly stuff about the Greek and Roman Empires.” Jake shrugged. “Ovid mentions the place a couple times, and I figured…your name sounded really similar.”
“Ah! Arcade, you have a new friend!” Guy elbowed Arcade, grinning.
“That’s a little much, Guy.” Arcade paused. “I mean, no offense.”
“None taken!” Jake replied chipperly.
“So, erm, no offense on my part, but we were discussing our research, just before you all came in.” Julie gestured to the other Follower doctor, who had politely stepped aside and waited for Julie’s business to be done.
“Oh! Yeah, sorry, miss Julie.”
“It’s okay,” Julie reassured him quickly, “If you want, you can come by later, and I’m sure I’ll have something you and your friends can help with.”
“Alright! Thanks, Miss Julie!”
She smiled in amusement. “Julie is fine. And I should be thanking you.”

Luci and the others headed out of the tent, where, outside, by the entrance, Veronica had already roped a doctor into conversation, Raul was waiting by the gates, looking half-asleep, and Charon was standing by the sandbag barrier in front of, staring stoically at the fort walls while the ghoul woman standing guard was seemingly trying and failing to chat him up. She turned to them as they approached and scoffed incredulously.
“Hey, there. He’s with you, right?”
“Sure is! C’mon, Charon, what’s the deal?” Jake grinned humorously as he jokingly elbowed Charon.
Charon didn’t say anything.
“Did his dick fall off or is he just dead inside? Either’s possible with ghouls, trust me.” Beatrix snorted.
“I’m sure he isn’t dead inside! I, uh, don’t know about the other thing, though.”
“I hope not.” Luci chuckled as she leaned on the sandbags, her thumbs tucked under her belt.
“Beatrix, leave the poor man alone.” Arcade sighed as he and Guy approached, as well.
“Hey, c’mon. It’s hard for a gal like me to get action anywhere. Let alone here.”
“I’m sure, but I really don’t think he’s interested.”
“What’s going on?” Veronica interjected as she rushed over, having ended her conversation with the other doctor. She paused, looking at Guy and Arcade, then looked back at Luci. “Did they send these guys with you?”
“No, we were just talking. Pleasure to meet you, miss.” Guy smiled politely and held out his hand. “Guy de Devaul.”
“Oh! Nice to meet you too, Mr. Devaul, I’m Veronica!” Veronica shook his hand. “That’s a fancy name.”
“Isn’t it?” Guy chuckled and stood up.
“And you’re his friend?” Veronica turned to Arcade, who looked a little taken aback by how friendly she was.
“Uh, yeah. Arcade Gannon. Nice to meet you.” He just nodded, before seemingly realizing he should also shake her hand and held out his.
“You too, Doctor!” Veronica grabbed his hand and shook it, pulling him a little as she did. “Oh, sorry!”
Arcade shook out his hand after she released her grip. “No, uh, it’s fine. Jeez, you are…much stronger than you look.”
“Thanks!”
“Right! We didn’t introduce everyone.” Jake looked around. “Okay, so, first, this is Dogmeat. Say hi, Dogmeat!”
Dogmeat barked.
“Hi!” Guy waved a little at Dogmeat, who seemed happy for it. Guy’s own dog didn’t seem so welcoming, hiding behind his legs.
“This is Charon. He’s my friend.” Jake gestured dramatically to Charon. Charon glanced at them before looking back at the walls of the fort.
“Is Charon a nickname, then?” Arcade commented. “That’s the...boatman of the Styx, right?”
Charon grunted.
“Insightful.”
“Yeah, that’s…sorta…his real name.”
“‘N that’s Raul Tejada.” Luci pointed with her thumb over her shoulder at Raul, still half-asleep by the gate.
“...Is he sleeping?” Guy questioned as politely as he could.
“Pro’ly. He’s old.”
“...Okay.”
“Oh, right, ‘n this is Dante.” Luci scratched Dante’s head from where he was perched on her shoulder.
“As in Dante Alighieri?"
Luci couldn’t quite tell if Arcade was joking, partly because that name sounded weird.
“...Uh. No.”
Jake shrugged. “Yeah, I asked.”
“...What is he?”
“He’s a cat.”
Arcade blinked. “I thought they were extinct.”
“Well, I guess he didn’t get the memo.”
“Well, if we’re introducing our furry friends, this Chico. He’s a bit shy, though.” Guy gestured to his dog, still hiding behind him.
“Aw. He’s a cute little guy.”
“He is, isn’t he?”
“Right. You should…one sec.” Luci looked back over at Raul. “Hey! Raul!”
Raul snapped his head up, blinking blearily. “Hm? What?”
“C’mon, we met some guys! Introduce yaself!”
Raul sighed as he stood up, stretching his back, and stepped over to them, looking between Guy and Arcade. “Hey.”
“Hi. I’m Guy de Devaul, this is Arcade Gannon.” Guy nodded politely. “Nice to meet you, Mr. Tejada.”
“No one calls me that, Guy.”
“...Okay.” Guy paused. "¿Hablas español?”
Raul blinked. “Ah…sí, sí. Lo hablas?”
“Heey, y’see, Jake?” Luci grinned, turning to Jake.
“I, uh, I hear. I dunno what you’re-”
“Aprendí con algunos libros, y con ayuda de un viejo amigo. Lo uso para cantar. ¿Está bien?”
Raul shrugged. “It’s alright, boss. A little stilted, y’know? But, pretty good, if you learned from books.”
“Ah.” Guy clicked his tongue. “I’ll have to talk to you some more, then, Mr. Tejada.”
“I guess so. I’m no teacher, though, boss.”
“Heh, I don’t need a teacher, sir, just a conversation partner.” Guy turned back to Luci. “So, Luci, did you and your friends all come here to help the Followers?”
“I’m actually lookin’ for someone.” Luci stood up. “Benny. Apparently he runs a big-shot casino ‘round here. Know of ‘im?”
“We sure do. We met him.”
Luci blinked. “Really?”
“Yeah. He was, erm…a little stingy.”
“He was an asshole,” Arcade added more bluntly.
“Sounds ‘bout right. What’s his place called again?”
“The Tops. Did you, er, plan on meeting him in person?”
“Yeah. Why?”
Guy paused. “Well...The Tops is in the Strip.”
“What, that gated community over there? What about it?”
“Well, it’s 2000 cap fee to get in.”
“...Shit.” Luci sighed heavily.
“But, er…” Guy paused. “Let’s talk outside the Fort.”

They headed out of the Mormon Fort, onto the dilapidated streets of Freeside again, and stepped to the side of the street before Guy lowered his voice and continued his thought.
“I do know someone who can provide counterfeit passports for 500 caps apiece.”
“Really?” Luci cleared her throat and lowered her voice as well. “Uh…where’d I find ‘em?”
“Ralph. At Mick and Ralph’s. Tell me I sent you.”
“That’s real good. That’s, like, a quarter of the actual payment.” Jake added.
“Still a lot for all o’ us.”
“If we pool it, we can probably scrape up the money in no time.” Veronica chimed in optimistically.
“...Hm. And there’s always work to be done in big cities.” Luci looked back at Guy and Arcade. “We’ll help the Followers for free. Me, Jake, and Veronica, anyway. But do y’all know where we could find paying work, too?”
“I usually scavenge, take bounties.” Guy placed a hand on his chin thoughtfully. “I think James at the Atomic Wrangler mentioned he has work. You can come with me and Arcade to see The King. I wanted to see if he needed some help.”
Arcade blinked. “News to me.” He turned to Luci. “But, er, yeah. The King probably has some jobs he’s willing to pay for.”
“Sounds good.” Luci nodded. “Might see ‘bout that work at the Atomic Wrangler first, but you let me know when I’m done if the King got anything more need doin’. Also, uh..” She paused, raising a brow. “Who’s the King?”
“You’ve probably seen the men with the leather jackets, pompadours, all that. They’re part of a gang called The Kings, led by a man called...well, The King. They operate out of The King’s School of Impersonation.”
“Uh, why is it called that?”
“I guess they model themselves off of an old pre-war singer called…well, ‘The King.’”
“...Interestin’. Alrigh’, well, I’ll get to work.”
“You guys mind if I come with you?” Jake questioned, turning to Guy and Arcade. “Um, no offense, Luci. Just think those guys sound, uh…interesting.”

The Atomic Wrangler looked sad, but significantly less sad than other bars Roberto had been in. So comparatively, it looked pretty good.
He headed to the counter and sat on a stool. “Boone, come on, sit down.”
“Mm.”
“What?”
“I’m not in the mood to drink.”
“Aren’t you sad all the time? What’s a better mood to drink in?”
“I said I’m not in the mood.”
“Pfft. Fine. Heellooo, bartender?”
“It’s uh, James.” A man with combed back brown hair and a dirty suit quickly stepped up to the counter.
“Ooh, hello, James. I would order a drink, but I’m already looking at a tall drink of water.”
“Heh, thanks. But…you gotta order something.”
“Oh, fine. I’ll have brandy. Rum, whatever. Something strong.”
“Comin’ right up,” James leaned under the counter, grabbed a bottle of rum and a glass, poured it out for Roberto, and placed it on the counter. “10 caps. This is the good stuff.”
Rob sighed dramatically and placed the caps on the counter. He spoke first as James put away the caps.
“Thank you, dear. I realize I never asked your name.”
“James Garret. You?”
“Roberto Gonzalez. Call me Rob.”
“Nice to meetcha, Rob.”
“So. Any work around here?”
“Well, we've got the basics covered, but now that you mention it, we have had.” James sucked in a breath before continuing. “unusual requests from some of our wealthier customers. If you can recruit escorts to match these customers'... proclivities... I'd be willing to pay you finder's fees.”
“Hm. I see,” Rob grinned. “And what proclivities are we speaking of, James?”
“Let’s see…” James thought for a moment. “Our wealthiest client has a thing for ghouls, and a thing for cowboys. He wants an escort who can satisfy both fetishes. And plenty of customers have said they'd be willing to pay extra for a suave talker, someone who can fake the ‘boyfriend experience’ real good. And then there's these, heh, disgusting robot fetishists you may have heard about? Well, those creeps want a sexbot. Have you ever run across a sexbot?” James scoffed, crossing his arms. “Not that I'd ever want one within 100 feet of me - but I gotta be a businessman about it.”
“Y’know, James, I’m expecting 100 caps minimum for each of the candidates I bring in.”
“Sure. Just don't rough up the merchandise before delivery - you break it, you bought it.”
“Speaking of, surely these escorts are critical to your business? How about double?”
James sighed. “Okay, you've got yourself a deal. Find escorts to fill the positions and I'll pay double. No more.”
“Thank you kindly, James. I’ll redirect any suitable candidates here immediately.”
“Alright. See you then.”
Rob downed his rum, too used to the burning feeling to really react, and turned to the entrance of the Wrangler when he heard the door creak open. Luci was the first to enter. She whistled as she looked around the main room.
“Nice place, here.”
“Thanks, little lady.” James grinned.
“Hehe. Don’t call me that.”
“...Okay.”
Luci headed over the bar and sat next to Boone, who had seemingly just been waiting for Rob to be done. Veronica stepped inside, spinning around in a circle for a moment to look around fully, before joining Luci. Raul heavily sat down beside Veronica.
“Delightful. And I thought I’d have some time for myself,” Rob groaned, pushing his glass away.
Luci leaned forward, resting her elbows on the counter. “So, what’s goin’ on here?”
“I was asking James for some work, if you wanted to know.”
“Ooh. Hey, James, ya got any work for me?”
“Ah, no. Rob’s doing what I needed done. But...Hey, Francine!” James turned to bark at the blonde woman in the back. “This girl said she’s willing to take work!”
“That so?” Francine headed over by the counter, looking Luci over. “...Alright. I think you’d be good.”
“So, what needs doin’?”
Back before we instituted the caps up front rule, we used to allow customers tabs. Well, needless to say, a few customers snuck out without paying their bills. We need someone to collect. The job would pay a percentage.”
“Hm. What’s the pay?”
“If you bring all of their debts back, we'll give you a cut of each. 25% is more than fair. It would add up to 150 caps if you bring them all in.”
“Sounds good. You want ‘em alive, then?”
“Yeah, it's a bit difficult to collect on a corpse. Just get the caps from them. After that, I couldn't care less what happens to those deadbeats.”
“Well, hey now, Francine, this work takes a lotta time, and time is money. I'll need at least a 50/50 cut to actually make a good profit." Luci grinned placidly. Francine paused, thinking over the deal for a moment. "Alright. 50/50 it is, but you better bring back all of the caps. If we hear you crossed us, the next bounty hunter will be coming for you."
"Heh. Not good to backstab in this kinda business, man. Anyway, who're the deadbeats?"
“Three people, a real mixed basket of fruits. Their names are Grecks, Santiago, and Lady Jane.”
“I’ll need some info.”
“Of course. About who?”
“Well, what’s up with Grecks?”
“He’s a bit cracked, but mostly harmless. Just don't mention anything about his lazy eye. He owes 138 caps and should still be around Freeside.”
“What about Lady Jane?”
“She fancies herself a high roller, but she's just another dirtbag NCR prospector. I'm not sure where to find her. I hear she's run goods for the Followers of the Apocalypse in the past, but other locals might know more. She owes us 250 caps.”
“Hm. Arcade might know something.”
“Who?”
“Ah, some Follower guy. Anyway, what’s the deal with Santiago?”
“Santiago is a suave son of a bitch, but a total pansy when it comes to fisticuffs. He owes 212 caps and should be around Freeside as well.”
“Alrigh’. No problem, if he’s a bitch.” Luci snorted and stood up. “I’ll get t’work. See ya soon, Francine.”
“Yeah, I hope so.”

They approached the School of Impersonation, which was loud, bright, and lively as per usual. A few kings were hanging around the entrance, speaking amongst each other before they noticed Guy and the others approaching.
“Hey, what’re you guys going in for?” One of the larger men inquired, crossing his arms and giving them a suspicious look.
“I just wanted to speak to the King, see if he needed any assistance. The Followers said that he might want some help.” Guy glanced at Arcade.
The man looked them over, and, upon spotting Arcade’s patch, nodded and stepped to the side. “Sure, alright, you seem like pretty cool cats. He’s in the theater.”
“Thank you kindly, sir.” Guy smiled politely and nodded as he pushed through the front door, holding it open for the others.
The front door opened into a small lobby, mainly populated by a large old front desk and a few couches upon which a few Kings were relaxing to the sound of the music and chattering idly amongst each other. They headed to the closest door, but were stopped by a man in a white shirt and jeans, with the usual king hairstyle, leaning against the wall to the right of the doorway. He looked a little older than the other Kings.
“What do we have here? Another petitioner for the King?” He gave Guy a foul look, then turned the foul look on the others. “Oh, and you brought friends, too.”
“I actually would like to speak to him about any work he might have.”
The man snorted, “Anything’s possible, I suppose. How much is it worth to you to meet the big man?”
“Are you actually trying to extort us, Pacer? I don’t think the King would like that too much,” Arcade replied in annoyance.
“And what do you know? Aren’t you the one guy who’s so shit at his job they keep you in that tent all day?”
“For your information, I asked to stay in the tent. That’s...not much better, but I did it out of my own volition.”
“Whatever. I wasn’t talking to you, anyway.”
“Listen, I was...I wanted to pay my respects to him. We know how important he is to the people here, and if me and my newer friends here are gonna stay in Freeside much longer, we figured we should get the okay from him,” Guy replied more gently.
Pacer paused, mulling over Guy’s words for a moment, before slowly nodding and standing up. “You know what? I like you. Half of the people around here, they forget who runs this place. Long as your friends are half as respectful as you, I guess it’s okay for them to head in, too. The King's the bored-looking guy by the stage. Can't fuckin miss him.”
“Thank you, sir.” Guy smiled pleasantly and headed through the door.
The room they entered was an improvised theater, with a stage at the far end of the room, and the rest filled with tables and seats. The man on stage seemed to be giving some sort of...song and dance performance? He seemed to be mostly just posing, and he was obviously a member of the Kings, judging by his hair and attire. A moment after they walked in, a man sitting at the table in the middle of the room stood up, causing the man on stage to freeze.
The man who had stood up wore a sharp, dramatic white suit, with a pompadour twice as dramatic. He bore a surprisingly handsome face, and a pleasant expression. He spoke with a presence that commanded the room, making Guy think he was the titular King.
“George! My boy, stop for a moment.”
The man on stage stood up and gulped.
“W-What’s up?”
“That is what’s up, George. You got the potential, you got the rhythm, but you don’t got the presence. You don’t got the confidence, Georgie-boy!”
“I’m sorry.”
“Oooh, George, that is what I mean. You can’t apologize so much and still consider yourself a real King. There’s a reason we’re called the Kings, boy, and it is because we bow to no one.”
“But what about you?”
“You don’t bow to me, boy, you respect me, and you follow me. You must learn the difference.”
“I’ll try harder.”
“I know you will, but what matters is that you learn your worth as one of us. Now, get down from the stage, and you get out there and get your groove, like I know you can.”
The man nodded and stepped down from the stage, marching past Guy and the others. Guy turned back to where the King had sat down again after he watched the man leave and headed over.
He jumped when the dog sitting by the table barked at him as he approached. It was a curious dog, half living, half...robot, it seemed. Part of its head and bottom jaw were robotic, and on the top of its head sat a clear tank containing a brain, though it appeared a bit grayer than a regular one. Presumably, anyway. Guy didn’t really know what a normal dog brain looked like.
Chico reacted badly, snarling back at the dog and pinning himself to Guy’s side. Dogmeat was a little more relaxed, simply backing away and looking up at Jake to gauge how he should react.
The King turned to look at them, then looked down at the dog and rubbed its head.
“Look, Rexie, someone new's come to see us. Calm down, now.” The King sighed. “Poor boy. I’m real sorry, he hasn't been feeling well lately.”
“Oh, it’s quite alright. I understand. Chico, calm down, boy, he’s just sick.”
Chico seemed to be calmed by Guy’s tone, and relaxed a little, though he still stayed close.
“Have you started charging people to meet you, lately?” Arcade interjected with a tinge of annoyance.
“Charging?” The King chuckled and shook his head. “Pace must be at it again. What did he take you for?”
“Oh, it’s no skin off my nose, I talked my way in.” Guy grinned.
The King smiled in amusement. “Pace must be losing his touch. Either that or you're a smooth one. Anyway, I'm the King. I believe I’ve already heard of you.” He nodded at Arcade. “Julie mentioned you before. But I’m not familiar with your friends here.”
“Guy de Devaul, sir, and this is my boy, Chico. Pleasure to meet you.” Guy shook the King’s hand firmly.
“Likewise, friend, likewise. And you?”
“Jake Morgan.” Jake shook his hand as well, though a little more nervously. “This is my friend, Charon, and my dog, Dogmeat. If, uh, if he’s making Rex freak out, I can…”
“Oh, no, it’s no problem. Rex always got on well with other dogs. He’s just…a little jumpy recently. So.” The King sat up again. “What can I do for you?”
“Well, I’m looking for work here. So are my friends.” Guy gestured to Jake. “And…others who couldn’t make it right now.”
The King nodded approvingly. “Maybe so. Maybe so. You look like you might be able to handle yourself. Tell you what. You do me a favor, and I'll have some more work for you, or your friends when it's done. Sound good?”
“Sounds good.”
“Good. I'll start you off with something easy. Did you notice the bodyguards for hire near the gates when you entered Freeside?”
“Hm. I did, yes.”
“It's good money if you can stay alive long enough. Freeside's not as safe as it used to be, so the money is well earned. Usually well earned, that is. Recently my men tell me that one of those bodyguards, fella named Orris, is making a little too much money. He's making a killing in repeat business. Once someone hires him they never want anyone else. I want you to find out why. Specifically, I want you to hire him. Play the part of an innocent tourist and follow his lead. If nothing happens, so be it. But I'm guessing things won't go so smoothly. Call it a hunch. So what do you say?”
“I’ll do it.”
“Okay, then. Once you part ways, return here. I'll look forward to hearing your report. Oh, and take this to cover the hiring cost.” The King reached into his jacket’s pocket and handed Guy a pouch of caps.
“That’s a lot. Are you sure?”
“Sure, go ahead. Just bring results, you hear?”
“I will, sir.”
The King chuckled. “Just King is fine, my friend.”

“So, uh, Rob, what’re ya doin’, anyway?”
“In life?” Rob snorted as they headed out of the Wrangler.
“I mean the job ya took from James, what is it?”
“He wants me to be his pimp.”
“Uh, what?”
“Find some escorts for the Wrangler.”
“What are you looking for?” Veronica pressed, probably being more nosey than she should.
“A ghoul cowboy, a smooth-talker, and a sexbot.”
“Weird.”
Rob paused as they stopped out on the street. “So, Raul, was it? You like money, right?”
“I’ve done a lot of nasty stuff, boss, but I’m not doing that.”
“Damn it.”
“Well, either way, I’m goin’ to try and find those deadbeats.” Luci interrupted, trying to save Raul any more embarrassment. You coming with?”
“Mmm. Sure.” Rob shrugged. “I don’t have any leads, anyway.”
“Well, me neither.” Luci thought for a minute, then suddenly turned to the bright, light-covered building at the end of the road, across the street. It was that King place Guy, Arcade, Jake, and Charon had been headed, and it looked like they were leaving.
“Hey. Arcade’s a Freeside local, maybe he knows ‘bout ‘em.”
“And who is that?”
“We met ‘im and some pretty boy name of Guy over in the Fort. Arcade’s a Follower.”
“That’s a bit of a stretch, but…” Rob stroked his beard absent-mindedly. “It’s worth a try, I suppose.”
“Well, we don’t have much other choice.”

“Hey!”
Guy stopped, along with the others, when they heard Luci call to them and head over from the Atomic Wrangler, accompanied by a couple of others.
“Hello, Luci. How did your visit to the Wrangler go?” Guy asked politely.
“Pretty good. Francine said she needed some help collectin’ on a couple debts. Said that she knows for sure a couple of ‘em are in Freeside. Y’know where Grecks and Santiago are?”
“I’ll tell you where I think Santiago is.”
“And Grecks?”
“No.”
“No...what?”
“I don’t want to tell you where he is.”
“Why not?”
“You’ll probably find him anyway, but I don’t want to contribute to that. Grecks…he’s a decent guy. But he’s not mentally stable. He has enough problems, and I’m not contributing to yet another one of them.”
“...Alrigh’. I’ll think about it. And Santiago?”
“Santiago, I have no issues telling you about him. He’s a conman. I think I heard someone in the Fort mention that he’s staying in the lot behind that big, old building across the street from Mick and Ralph’s. You should’ve seen the store if you entered through the east gate. He’s always in a white suit. Brown hair. You’ll know him when you see him.”
“Got it. And, say, ‘parently a Lady name of Jane owes Francine too, but last she heard of her, she was doin’ trade deals with the Followers. Know anything?”
“I do research, not trade deals. So, no.”
Luci clicked her tongue. “Damn. Well, thanks, man.”
“No problem.”
“Wait, are you Guy?” One of Luci’s friends, a gangly, rather tired-looking Latino man interrupted, pushing past Luci to point rather rudely at Guy.
“Er, yes.”
“Would you consider yourself a smooth-talker?”
Arcade raised a brow. “Sorry, who are you?”
“I’m not talking to you.”
“Well, I’d like to know too.” Guy smiled politely, trying to bring the tension down a little.
“Fine. Roberto Gonzalez. So?”
“Well, I don’t like to toot my own horn, but I would say so. Why?”
“Well, the Garrets are looking for a smooth-talker who can provide an ‘authentic’ experience, so to speak.”
“Are you seriously trying to pimp Guy out to the Garrets?” Arcade questioned half in disbelief, half in disgust.
“It’s good caps, Mr...you’re Arcade, yes?”
“Yeah. And I should really hope you care more about people’s dignity and well-being than your profit.”
Guy was a bit taken aback by the offer, but remained polite. “Sorry, but I’ve tried the business before. It’s not something I want to try again.”
“God dammit.” Rob huffed.
“You’re honestly lucky he was so polite about it,” Arcade added indignantly.
“You’re lucky anyone tolerates you, you chuffer.”
“I...what?”
“You’re annoying,” Rob snapped, “By the way, does anyone know where to find a cowboy ghoul that isn’t Raul?”
“Why?”
“James Garret also needs a cowboy ghoul for the Atomic Wrangler.”
“Why, Arcade, isn’t that Beatrix at the Fort similar to that?” Guy crossed his arms and turned to Arcade.
“I guess?”
“Perfect.”
Guy looked past Rob, seeing a shorter, rather stern-looking white man with him, notably wearing a First Recon beret.
“...Is…Are you a First Recon sniper?” Guy questioned, partially in confusion.
“Used to be,” The man replied in a gruff, curt voice.
“...Why are you, er…” Guy looked between him and Rob.
“Boone’s with me because I’m smart.”
Boone shrugged.
“...Okay.”
“Anyway. If you’re not looking for a job, chao.”
Rob turned and promptly walked away to the gate leading to the Northern part of Freeside.
“...He’s, uh…” Arcade paused. It didn’t sound like he was going to say anything good.
“He’s kind of a bitch.” Luci grinned placidly.
“...Yeah.”
“Anyway, Jakey, how’d y’all’s visit go?”
“Pretty well, I think! A guy tried to shake us down at the door.”
“Hope you broke his jaw.” Luci chortled.
Guy grinned, though clearly a little unnerved by her suggestion. “Heheh, uh, no, we just…talked him out of it.”
“Aw. Whatever.” Luci shrugged.
“Please don’t break Grecks’ jaw.” Arcade added, sounding rather concerned.
“Pfft. I won’t, man.”

Rob stopped just as he entered the next part of Freeside and paused, scratching his beard thoughtfully. Boone sighed after walking a bit further again and turned.
“What is it?”
“Hm…Come to think of it…Santiago might be helpful.”
“What do you mean?”
“Nevermind. We may need to make an arrangement that brute Luci won’t be so civilized to propose herself.”

It didn’t take Luci too long to find Santiago, with Arcade’s directions. He was a squirrely-looking man, hiding out around the back of the building they had been directed to, smoking by a barrel fire. Luci made sure to approach from the back, so as to not spook him before she spoke.
“Hey. You Santiago?”
He jumped a little and quickly turned, his eyes wide for a moment before he quickly regained his composure and grinned.
“How are you today? Santiago is fabulous!” He greeted them with a broad gesture. He had a…weird accent. A fake one, anyway.
“Not so good, man. I gotta deal with a deadbeat who doesn’t wanna pay off his tab.”
Santiago paused, his grin slipping for a moment before he shook his head exaggeratedly. “Eh, no…Santiago does not understand!”
“Nah?”
“What is, er, tab?”
Luci snorted. She was already tired of his schtick and they hadn’t even been talking for a minute. “It means ya owe the Garrets, dipshit. I’m here for their fucking money.”
“Santiago does not owe anyone. Santiago is a Freeside VIP.”
“Lemme guess. You don’t know you owe ‘em ‘cause you don’t understand ‘em?”
Santiago shrugged, once again in a rather exaggerated manner. “Santiago does not understand what the Garetts want from Santiago.”
“Okay. I get it.” Luci sighed, flipping her poncho over her shoulder to reveal her gunbelt and putting a hand on her pistol. “Lemme ask ya something. Didja know that no one fuckin’ talks like that in Spanish, neither?”
Santiago paled. “Ah, ha…well…”
“Okay, then lemme tell you somethin’ I know damn well you’ll understand. You owe the Garrets over two hundred caps, ‘cause you didn’t pay upfront for your fuckin’ drinks. Now, you’re in deep shit, and you’re actin’ like you don’t understand no one ‘cause you think it’ll getcha outta this. But, the thing is, acting like a fuckin’ dumbass ain’t gonna me from shooting your goddamn legs out from under ya. I can’t kill ya, but I can do a fuck of a lot worse as long as you can still move well enough to hand over your caps. Comprendes, Mendes?”
Santiago looked between her, Raul, and Veronica, looking increasingly panicked. “Ah…”
“Or!” Rob suddenly interjected, exiting from the large building behind them and stepping over. “Santiago can work off his debt!”
Santiago breathed a sigh of relief. Luci glared at Rob.
“How d’ya figure that?”
“Mr. Garret is looking for a suave escort, and if you’re willing to let them take off some caps for the first few, what, weeks? I’m sure he’d be happy to have you.”
“I'm honored they would consider me!” Santiago suddenly dropped the exaggerated accent and mannerisms. “I'll start immediately! Thank you, thank you!”
“Get to it, then.”
Santiago bolted as Luci turned to call after him.
“If I hear you ditched, you’re a fuckin’ dead man!”
That seemed to make him run faster. He did seem to run to the Wrangler rather than the first gate out of town. Luci turned to Rob.
“Alrigh’. That was pretty good.”
“Thank-”
“But if you undermine me again, we’re gonna have pro’lems.” Luci grinned. “Y’get it?”
Rob scowled. “Hmph. Fine. I just made your job much easier, but sure, threaten me. I have other business to attend to, anyhow.”
He turned on his heel and marched away, looking quite offended. Boone looked after him, then back at Luci.
“Sorry. About him.”
“Pfft. It’s alrigh’. You’re cool, man.”
“Thanks.” Boone turned and followed Rob. He didn’t seem particularly chatty. As per usual.

“So, I assume you’re staying with us for the bodyguard job?” Arcade looked a bit puzzled by Jake’s continued, and enthusiastic, presence.
“Sure! I mean, why not? If anything goes wrong, you guys might need some help.”
Arcade looked at Charon. “And, uh, you’re coming too?”
Charon grunted.
“Is...is that a response?”
“It’s fine. He kinda comes with me anywhere. Are you sure you wanna come, Charon?” Jake smiled and pat Charon’s shoulder.
“If you go, I will.”
“I mean, like, I was asking if you want to go.”
Charon sighed. “If you-”
“Oookay, you’re just gonna repeat that.”
“What’s...is he okay?” Arcade sounded a little concerned.
“He got brainwashed into following some stupid contract. I guess whoever has the contract has control over him or something? Anyway, some...asshole got ahold of it, and he was a real jerk to Charon. So I bought it off of him, and now he’s dead.”
“You killed him?”
“Well, no, Charon killed him. It was awesome, and also a little disturbing, but either way, Charon’s with me now. I’m trying to get him to think for himself a little more, but he’s really resisting my efforts,”
“Why don’t you destroy the con-?”
Charon was quick to reply. “No.”
“Yeah, he kind of...freaked out when I tried to burn it. I’m afraid if I destroy it, it’ll like...be trying to make an addict quit cold turkey. It might harm him more than help him.”
“Maybe you should try and contact a professional,” Arcade suggested.
“...I dunno if he’d talk to ‘em. I mean, we’re friends. That’s, like, the only reason he talks to me about anything besides the contract. Sometimes.”
“It’s worth trying.”
“Hm. Charon, you wanna do that?”
“Seeking medical help is in the contract.”
“Does mental health count?”
“Read the contract.”
“Charon, we’ve known each other, like, four years!”
“Does that mean anything to you?”
Jake looked at the road. Guy noticed he actually seemed to drop the upbeat demeanor for a moment before standing back up.
“Ah, whatever! Let’s just go talk to this stupid bodyguard.”

Chapter Text

Guy scanned the group of bodyguards by the gate with his eyes, placing a hand on his chin thoughtfully.
“Ah. Oh, I need to shave,” he muttered.
“Why don’tcha grow it out? Be thankful you can grow facial hair. I couldn't until, like, last year."
“Why are we talking about this?” Arcade interjected.
“He brought it up!”
Jake threw up his hands exagerratedly. Guy cleared his throat. “Anyway, I was wondering which one of them is the man we’re meant to speak with.”
Arcade shrugged. “Why not ask?”
“They might redirect business away from him.”
“He’ll overhear if he’s here like the King said, won’t he?”
“I suppose.” Guy headed towards the first man he noticed, a rough-looking, somewhat older man with scruffy black hair, a scruffier goatee, and heavy metal armor.
“Hey, new in town? If you need to cross Freeside, no one will keep you safer than I will.”
“Is that so? Are you Orris?”
“I am. Someone mention me?”
“Indeed! Someone from out there on the wastes told me that Freeside’s fairly dangerous, but they said that a man named Orris was very reliable.”
Orris paused, then grinned. “That I am.”
“How much for your services then, Orris?”
“Two hundred caps gets you my watchful eye for a trip to the south gate.”
“Two hundred? That seems a little...steep, even for a man as strong as you.”
“Hey, you want the best, you have to pay for it.”
“And, erm, Orris, what if I’m not heading to the south gate?”
“Sorry, but all the people with real money are heading for the Strip, so that's the way I go. You want to go somewhere else, hire one of these losers.” Orris gestured to the other bodyguards on the street, who all immediately shot some spiteful glares at him.
“Oh, I suppose you’re right…” Guy turned to the others, “Would they have to pay, as well?”
“Yeah, they’re gonna have to. It’s a lot harder to keep my eye on 4 people than it is to just watch 1.”
“I’m sorry, Arcade, Jake, Charon, would you mind just waiting here while I’m gone?”
“No problem.” Jake replied casually.
“Yeah, don’t worry, just be back quickly. You know my sunburn is awful.”
“You sunburn? I’m shocked!”
“Jake.”
“Jake, leave him alone.” Guy turned back to Orris, looked through his bag, and handed him the caps. “Shall we?”
“Let’s go, then. But I want to mention a few things up front. In order to ensure your safety, I need you to follow my instructions to the letter. We'll be heading down the main street here the whole way down. No detours. You go off sightseeing and I go off to find another customer. I'll keep a brisk pace, so try not to fall behind. Now let's head out.”
“Of course! Lead the way,” Guy smiled and quickly trailed after Orris after he got moving.

“Orris will almost definitely know if we follow them, Jake.”
“C’mon! That guy’s so self-absorbed he probably never even sees anything or anyone other than himself. He’s an amateur in scams.”
Arcade crossed his arms and looked up at the sky for a bit, then sighed. “Fine. If this gets Guy in trouble, it’s our responsibility to help him.”
“Responsibility is my middle name. I bet yours is, um...stingy. Uptight?”
“Stop.”
“It’s fun to mess with you!”
“My middle name is actually Israel.”
“Israel? What’s with you and pre-war locations?”
“I dunno. Maybe it’s because they’ve all been forgotten.”
“Calm down, Mr...middle name Dramatic.”
“You need to stop doing that.”

“To your left here is the Old Mormon Fort. You get roughed up, the Followers there will patch you right up. Not that I ever need their services.” Orris announced smugly as they passed by the Fort’s gates.
“Of course, you certainly don’t look it,” Guy affirmed with a pleasant smile.
“Thanks! Y’know, you’re one of my more tolerable customers.”
“Why, thank you!”
They continued down the main street, to the King’s School of Impersonation. Guy stole a glance at the windows, trying to see if he could see Pacer, or someone else he recognized.
“Up ahead on the next block is where the Kings hang out. Don't let them scare you, if they don't outnumber you five to one you'll be fine.”
“I’m sure you could handle any amount of them.”
“Heh, I guess you’re right. Anyway, down to the right here is the fun part of town. You haven't seen Freeside till you've been to the Wrangler.”
They continued on for a little bit before Orris stopped Guy about a block away from the gate to the Strip.
“Hey, slow down. I don't like the look of some of those men ahead. Let's take a different way around.”
Guy noticed the ragged-looking men with some bats and guns grouped together a few yards away, blocking the street to the Strip gate.
“Ah, yes. Of course.”
They turned onto the street to the left and continued until the corner, where the street turned right, where Orris stopped Guy yet again.
“I’m hearing something up there. I'll scout ahead. You follow at a distance.”
Guy nodded quietly as Orris continued ahead at a quicker pace. Guy also quickened his pace behind him, making sure to hang behind a bit so as to not raise any suspicion.
When Orris reached the next corner, turning right again, back onto the main street, he began firing at what appeared to be four of the suspicious-looking men they had seen earlier. Guy reached Orris as he had finished off the last of them.
“Nothing to worry about. If you had hired one of those other hacks, you'd be up to your ass in lowlife right about now.” Orris grinned smugly as he put away his pistol and turned back to Guy.
Guy paused for a moment as he looked at the men lying on the ground, then back at Orris. “You fired three shots, yet there’s four of them there.”
“Er, noticed that, did you? I keenly aimed one of the shots through some soft tissue of one of them to hit the man behind him.”
“Ah, I see, how clever of you.”
“Heh, thanks.”
Guy smiled and approached Orris. “So, I suppose we’ll just be going?”
“Yeah, of course,” Orris turned to continue onwards.
Guy stole a glance at the men lying on the ground, then grabbed Orris by the neck and pressed the muzzle of his pistol against his head.
“Hey, what the fuck?!” Orris yelped.
“Move any more and I’ll pull the trigger. And I know those men aren’t dead, I saw one of them breathe, so there’s no point in you all pretending anymore.”
There was a long pause before one of the men began to slowly pull himself up, soon followed by the other three.
“You assholes were just gonna leave me to die?!” Orris yelped, pulling against Guy’s grip.
Guy fired the pistol next to Orris’s shoulder, making him and the other men jump, “If you move again, I will not miss.”
“You guys have guns! Do something!”
“We also have guns!” Guy heard Jake from behind him, but didn’t turn away from Orris.
“Jake?”
“Heey! We didn’t listen to you.” Jake stood next to Guy, his shotgun aimed at the four men while Dogmeat clung to his side, growling. Chico darted to Guy’s side, stock still and tense.
Arcade approached his other side, holding up his plasma rifle shakily.
“I told him that this wasn’t a great idea, but...I guess we were right to follow you.”
“Thank you, both of you. Oh! And Charon.”
“I follow Jake,” Charon grunted.
“Anyways, you guys scram. We have the upper hand here. If any of you reach for your guns, you’re dead,” Jake barked, “And let’s be honest, this guy isn’t really worth it.”
The men all looked between each other before making their decision and turning tail.
Once they had turned the corner onto the main street, Jake lowered his weapon, as did Arcade and Charon. Chico barked and turned to Guy.
“Hey, Chico. Good boy.” Guy smiled. “Alright, Jake, take his gun.”
Orris muttered some curses at them as Jake took Orris’s pistol and put it in his bag.
“Thank you. Now, Orris, you’re going to go over to the King, and you’re going to have a chat with him. Tell them Guy sent you.”
“They’ll fuckin’ kill me.”
“No, if The King wanted you dead, you would be. They might rough you up, sure, but better than being dead. Oh, and I would like my money back, please. And maybe an apology payment, on top of that.”
Guy shoved Orris away, keeping his gun aimed at his head.
Orris scowled deeply. “I ought to take my chances and kill you right here...but, fine.” He reached into his pocket and threw a couple sacks of caps at Guy. “Don't think this is over, though. I'll have that money back, out of your hide if I have to.”
“If you try me again, I will take your head and mount it as a fucking trophy. Get out of here.”
Orris hesitantly turned and headed off to the main street.
“Holy shit, Guy, that was awesome. Scary, but awesome.” Jake nodded approvingly.
“Thank you.”
“Remind me not to get on your bad side,” Arcade commented as he holstered his plasma pistol.
“Oh, I’d never take your head as a trophy, Arcade.”
“Don’t...say it like that.”
“So, you think he’ll go to the Kings?” Jake asked as he headed to the end of the street and peeked out onto the main street.
“I doubt it, so I’ll let The King know nevertheless. I did hope he would have some dignity in losing, though.”
“Someone like that?” Arcade questioned doubtfully.
“Well...I hoped.”
“How much did he give you?”
Guy picked up the small sacks of caps and eyeballed the amount inside. “The first looks about the amount I paid him. The second looks maybe...half that? Roughly 100, maybe a little less. It looks like he just threw whatever he had at me.”
“Hey, that’s pretty good.” Jake slapped Guy’s back. “Don’t spend it all in one place, right?”
“Of course not. And I’ll be sure to give the King back that money he lent me.”
“What? Why?”
“Because he was generous enough to give it to me.”

“Oh, Grecks? He’s behind the old Mormon Fort, in that empty lot.”
“That so?” Luci cocked her head, prompting Dante to shift on her shoulder a little.
The weary old man sitting on the sidewalk, against a building, sighed and scratched his beard contemplatively. “Yup. Last I saw. Why’re you looking for him?”
“Just wanted to talk.”
“Francine send ya?”
“...Well, I ain’t gonna lie to ya.”
“Yeah, that’s what I thought. Listen, he ain’t half-bad. I get you’re just doing your job, and you ain’t got any reason to listen to me, but just try not to kill him or rough him up some, alright?”
“I mean, I’ll try. I can’t make no promises, partner.”
“That’s good enough.” The man grunted as he put his knees up to his chest and turned his head down, apparently trying to go back to napping.
They headed back to the Old Mormon Fort, then headed around it, to the back of the walls, where, just as the old man said, there lay another empty lot, much like where Santiago was, although this one was more isolated. No one was there except a ghoul with a lazy eye, in a sweater vest and slacks, with a stubbly, patchy beard, who Luci could only assume was Grecks.
“Hey! You Grecks?” She called as she headed towards him at a brisker pace.
“Ah, hey man, can you spare a few caps?” He stood up from the wall he was leaning against.
“That ain’t an answer, partner. You the Grecks that owes the Garretts?” She repeated more curtly.
Grecks stiffened, looking more suspicious, and crossed his arms. “That all depends on who's asking.”
“Their collector. And I can take the caps from ya alive or dead. Up to you, pard.” Luci swept back her poncho and placed her hand on her pistol.
Grecks looked at the pistol, then back at her, then looked down to rifle through his pockets. “L-Look, I've got the caps right here, just don't hurt me.” He tossed her a pouch of caps.
Luci weighed the pouch, then looked back at Grecks from under her hat. “Do I gotta repeat myself? I can get the full payment if I just shoot ya dead here, man.”
Grecks sighed heavily and shakily grabbed a battered, old coin purse from his other pocket and reluctantly handed it over. “Okay. Here. That's everything I've got except the clothes on my back. I'm sorry about this.”
“Yeah, I’m sorry, too. Keep your nose clean or next time I won’t be kind enough t’keep the pistol in its holster.”
“I will. Thanks for not killing me.”
“You’re welcome.” Luci turned and headed back down the street, away from the Lot where Grecks sat, defeated, on the pavement.
Veronica waited until they were out of earshot before speaking, “That was…pretty cold.”
“You gotta be cold t’collect debts.”
“He’s lucky she didn’t kill him, boss.” Raul affirmed solemnly.
Veronica sighed. “Maybe I’m just sheltered from living underground my whole life.”
Raul raised a brow.
“Oh, yeah, you don’t know!”
“Yeah, no.”
“Anyway, I lived in a hole in the ground. That’s pretty much it.”
“...That’s vague.”
“Well, nothing’s straightforward in life.”
“I’m old enough to know that’s not true, boss.”

Roberto leaned against the wall of Mick and Ralph’s and lit a cigarette as he thought about whether to find the sexbot or the cowboy ghoul first. Never in his life thought he’d be thinking about that.
Boone sighed as he leaned against the wall a few feet away. “Do you have any more cigarettes?”
“Buy your own.”
Boone sighed again, but said nothing.
Rob paused, then huffed irritably and grabbed another cigarette from the pouch on his belt, “Here. But you owe me.”
“Sure.” Boone took the cigarette and lit it. “So, should we find that ghoul Arcade told us about?”

They pushed open the heavy gates to the fort to find a few guards near the front gates, behind a barrier of sandbags. The most significant was a ghoul woman sitting in a plastic chair, her boots resting on the sandbags in front of her, holding a rifle in one hand, and wearing a cowboy hat. Rob guessed she was the one they were looking for.
“Hello, miss!” He greeted the ghoul with a flourish of his hand.
“Who the hell are you?”
“My name is Roberto Gonzalez, but you may call me Rob.”
“...Okay. Whaddya want?”
“Well, for one, I wanted to ask who you are?”
“Beatrix Russell.”
“What do you do here, Miss Russell?”
“Gun for hire for the Followers. Aside from the occasional thug intercepting supply shipments, there isn’t jack to do here. And they’re pretty judgey about my kind of fun around here.”
“What’s your kind of fun, then?”
“Well, a drink from time to time is nice, but they don’t let me. Says it’ll make their charity cases relapse. It’s a lost cause, anyway. Along with...other kinds of fun.”
“Hm. Well, I have a good job offer for you, then. Are you interested in working for the Garrets?”
She snorted. “They already have that pig McCaffery working for them. Do they need another guard?”
“This is a job as an ‘escort’.”
“I've escorted my share of idiot tourists around Freeside. Too much trouble for what it pays,” She replied dismissively.
“I mean a prostitute, Beatrix.”
She paused, processing what he’d said for a moment, before she chuckled and snorted. “I'm all boot knives and leather, friend - and a ghoul, besides. What kind of weirdo wants what I've got?”
“Oh, I can assure you, there are plenty of customers looking for that, my dear.”
She paused. “Weirdos into bullwhips and necrosis, eh? Doesn't sound half-bad…” She blinked and shook her head. “What am I thinking? I'm no whore, and I ain't about to hand my ass over to some penny-ante hustler like he owns me.”
“You’ll be an independent. With a discount on the booze, perhaps?”
Beatrix sighed and leaned back in her chair. “Hmm. They do have a damn good selection of hooch over at the Wrangler. If I get to choose my customers, if I get to be a little rough with them, if my cut is fair, and if I get that discount? That just might work.” She nodded. “Tell the Garrets I'll stop by to work out terms.”
“Delightful. Well, I must be tending to other business. Goodbye!” Rob waved politely and turned to head out the gate.
“So, uh, what else did Garret want?” Boone asked as he pushed open the gates for Rob and ED-E.
“The last one we need is a sex bot. Fortunately, I’ve programmed a few sexbots in my time.”
“You...what?”
“Now I just need to find a suitable bot. And I am sure as hell not going to pimp out my baby boy.” Rob pat ED-E’s side.
“I’m...not even sure how that would work.”
“Hm...Where...Who would know?”
“Maybe Garret? He wanted the sexbot in the first place.”
“Good point, I suppose. Let’s go.”

“Howdy, Julie!”
Julie turned when Luci called to her, smiled politely, and waved from where she was speaking to a patient. After excusing herself, she headed over to Luci, Veronica, and Raul by the gate.
“Hello, you’re Miss Perez, right?”
Luci grinned. “Just Luci’s alright.”
“Do you run this place?” Veronica questioned.
“I do. Julie Farkas. I don’t believe we’ve met.”
“Veronica. Veronica Santangelo.” Veronica smiled in turn and held out her free hand.
Julie shook it. “It’s good to meet you. I assume you’re one of the friends Luci said could help us.”
“Yep! And, er, this is Raul, but…”
“Sorry, boss, I get what you’re doing here, but I need payment.”
“Oh, no, I completely understand. It’s not always feasible to do work for free.”
Raul nodded, looking at least a bit relieved by her response.
“Anyway, me and Veronica are still willin’ to do some work.”
“I see. What do you think you could do? I don’t want to put you to work on anything you’re not comfortable with.”
“Well, I’m good with pre-war autos n’ all that. Nuclear-powered engines, generators.”
“I see.” Julie nodded. “We could use some help in getting our generators to run more efficiently. And I think one of the locals here brought in an old motorcycle. If we could get something like that running, it would make supply runs to our outposts a lot easier. Last I saw it, it’s in the back of the fort, and it…looks like it could be fixed, but I wouldn’t know too much about that.”
“Leave it to me.”
“And, er, I’m good with, well, an array of pre-war tech. Maybe not vehicles, per say, but give me any pre-war tech you don’t know what to do with and I can probably jury-rig it, or at least take it apart to use for something else. Aaand I’m good with messing with terminal hardware. Maybe not programming, but, hardware, I’m good with.”
“That sounds very helpful.” Julie nodded thoughtfully. “Well, there’s a variety of terminals around here that could probably run a lot better if someone were to take a look at the hardware. We usually have a resident computer technician, but she’s…busy, and she’s usually better with programming, anyway. Other than that, we have plenty of junk technology in the back that could be taken apart, and they mostly have been, but there’s some more delicate components we’d rather have a professional handle.”
“No problem! I’ll see what I can do!”
“And I’ll be napping.” Raul yawned and headed over to an open seat by the gates. Luci followed his gaze and paused.
“Hey, where’s that ghoul broad that was here before?”
“Oh, Beatrix.” Julie sighed. “Someone came to talk to her about another job, and, well…she quit. I don’t have any hard feelings, I could tell she wasn’t happy here. But it will be a bit difficult to find another mercenary. She was very reliable.”
“Mm. Well. Besides that, I got one more thing to ask.”
“And what’s that?”
“You heard of a lady called Jane? Apparently she traded with y’all sometimes.”
Julie paused. “Hm…yes, Jane, she sounds familiar. We haven’t seen her in person for a little while, though. I heard she fell on some hard times recently?”
“That so? Y’know where she’d be hanging around?”
“Last I heard, she was staying by the Strip gate. It’s probably safer up there, with the Securitrons. Why?”
“Nothin’. I heard she was havin’ some hard luck, too, so I figured I might see if I can lend a hand.”
Julie smiled. “That’s very kind of you. Just remember not to stretch yourself too thin. There’s a lot of people needing help in Freeside, and…you can’t always help them the way they need.”
“I know. But I might as well try, right?”

“Rob! Any news?” James greeted excitedly as Rob approached the counter in the Atomic Wrangler.
“Well, I have two of the three escorts you’ve requested. For one, the smooth-talker.”
“Who’s that?”
“Santiago. He should be arriving shortly to pay off his debt.”
“That honey-mouthed sonofabitch?” James sighed, but shrugged indifferently. “Fine. At least he'll have to shut up occasionally.” He quickly looked more enthusiastic at the prospect of a new escort and grinned. “Those pretty lips of his are going to see more traffic than a Brahmin trail in low summer!”
“Ugh,” Boone groaned.
“And, I have an authentic ghoul cowboy.”
“Imagine that! What's his name and when's he start?”
“Her name’s Beatrix. She’ll come in to discuss work terms, and then she’ll get right to work, I’m sure.”
James thought about it for a moment. “A she, huh? Well... I guess the customer who made that request can't get everything he wants. Hell, who knows? He might not even notice the difference.” James shrugged again and reached under the counter to grab two small pouches of caps and put them on the counter. “There. That’s 200 for each. And...not to, uh, rush ya or anything, y’know, I can make the client wait, but how’s the search for the sexbot going?”
“That’s what I came here for. I can actually program it myself, I just need a robot to work with. Do you know anywhere I might find one?”
“Ah.” James clicked his tongue and looked up at the ceiling, trying to think of a response. “Wait, I think someone mentioned an old robotics factory. Cerulean Robotics, I think it was called. It’s on the west side, and the entrance is on the back of the building. That’s all I know.”
“Cerulean Robotics?” They all turned to Francine, who had suddenly spoken up. “Yeah, you go under the old highway near the Followers’ Fort, along the old road, and past some rubble, you’ll be there. It’s not a single building, by the way. It’s two real big ones joined together. Can’t miss it, so I’ve heard.”
“Thank you.”
“How’d you know that?” James questioned.
“Some engineer guy told me there’s some nice parts stashed there, told me I should raid it and sell the stuff. I told him I earn enough working here.”
Rob nodded. “Well, I’ll see to it. I’ll be back with the sexbot.”
“A sexbot?” Francine raised a brow.
“Heh, got some...weird clients.” Jame chuckled nervously.

After helping out at the Fort, Luci, Veronica, and Raul headed over to the Strip gate, guarded by bulky, intimidating robots quite like Victor, though with different faces on their screens. Luci realized she hadn’t actually seen Victor since they’d spent the night at Novac.
Luci assumed the woman hanging around the empty lot just right of the gate, along with a few other locals, was Lady Jane. Her hair and make-up were done up, but otherwise, she looked a little worse for wear, with part of her eyeshadow smudged and her dress stained and dirty around the ends. She was sitting by one of the buildings bordering the lot, clutching a purse, when Luci approached. She looked up as she stood, smiling politely, though with a tinge of nervousness behind it.
“Oh, hello! Lovely to meet you.” She spoke with a somewhat exaggeratedly haughty voice.
“Yeah. I’m guessin’ you’re Jane. The Garrets want their money back.”
Jane drew back a bit and looked at the ground. “In that case, I suppose you're here to collect. I apologize, but I simply do not have enough caps on me to cover the debt. If someone were to recover my caravan from that cave, I could easily pay in full, but who would bother with such a mess?”
“You ain’t real good at lyin’, Jane, and I ain’t real patient with liars. Give me the money.”
Jane finally dropped the haughty voice with a huff. “Damn. I didn't want to hand over all of my caps because I won't have enough to get home to California.” She sighed, grabbed a pouch of caps from her purse and handed it to Luci, who quickly took it. “Here, take it all. I'll find my way home one way or another.”
“Hm.” Luci put away the caps. “That’ll keep ya safe for now. Y’say you got caps in the caravan?”
“I do. Plenty. At least as much as what I just gave you.”
“Hm…” Luci continued thinking for a moment. “Alrigh’. How ‘bout this. I’ll go grab what I can from that caravan, and I’ll give ya what ya need to get outta here, pocket the rest. I think that’s enough payment, huh?”
Jane blinked. “You’d do that?”
“Like I said, if I get most of the cut. If you’re good with that, you can tell me where the caravan got sacked.”
“But what of the R.O.U.S’s?”
“Rodents of Unusual Size?” Luci snorted. “I don’t believe they exist.”
“Oh I assure you, Miss, they are very real and very large. Please do be careful.”
“Sure. Where’s the caravan?”
Luci switched on the Pip-Boy and held it out, allowing Jane to look over the map before pointing to an area just south of Novac. “There. I believe the locals called it Broc Flower Cave. Nasty place.”
“Seriously? That’s way down south.”
“You offered.”
“...Yeah, alrigh’.” Luci switched off her Pip-Boy. “I guess I got business down there anyway. For now, I’m handin’ over this payment to the Garrets. So at least you won’t have to worry about ‘em.”
“Thank you, ma’am.”
“Mmhm.” Luci nodded dismissively and turned around. “Alrigh’, let’s get outta here.”

“What kind of business do you have down south?” Veronica questioned once they were out of earshot.
“There’s a town named Primm, needs a sheriff.” Luci clicked her tongue thoughtfully. “NCR might be able to take over, but…I dunno, from what I seen, looks like they’re stretched thin as it is.”
“Choosing the right sheriff’s not easy, boss.” Raul sighed. “You gotta make sure they’re not just gonna shoot everyone they don’t like, but if they’re not strict enough, the town just implodes.”
“Yeah, I’m aware. One o’ the guys there said he knew of a guy, though.”
“Cool! Sooo, why’s he not there?” Veronica pressed, walking a bit ahead of Luci to look back at her.
“‘Parently he’s in the, er…what was it…the NCR Correctional Facility.”
Raul raised a brow. “Sorry, you’re, uh…you’re getting your sheriff from jail, boss?”
“Prison, actually.”
“Okay, I trust you, mostly, but, uh, is that a good idea?” Veronica seemed to share Raul’s skepticality.
“Listen, I’ll talk to ‘im and see if he seems like a good fit. If he ain’t, he ain’t.”
“How’re you even gonna get into a prison?”
“I’ll figure it out.”
“Exciting! Maybe not, like, a good idea, but it’s exciting! And it sounds like I can punch people on the way there, right?”
“Damn right.”
“Yeah!” Veronica pumped her metal fist enthusiastically.

“You’re back soon,” Francine observed as she headed over to the counter, watching Luci step into the Atomic Wrangler.
“Howdy.” Luci placed the pouches of caps on the counter. “You won’t have t’worry ‘bout those debts no more.”
Francine blinked, looking a bit taken aback. “Huh. Right, we got Santiago in.” She chortled. “James was happy about that.”
“Fuck off.” James scoffed from his place at the counter.
“Hehe. Anyway.” Francine nodded and started counting out Luci’s cut. “Well, I don't care how you handled those other lumps of human refuse, but you got the job done.” She paused, pushing the counted out caps over to Luci before looking back up at her. “Anyway. We need you to hunt down another person.”
“Yeah?” Luci collected most of the caps and left a few on the counter, pushing them back to Francine. “Give me a whisky and shoot.” She looked at Veronica and Raul. “Y’all want something?”
“Ooh, do you have wine?” Veronica questioned, leaning on the counter expectantly.
“Sure do.”
“Just a sarsaparilla for me, boss.” Raul sat heavily on the stool at Luci’s other side.
“Got it.” Once Francine had grabbed their drinks and Luci paid up, she turned back to her. “That son of a bitch McCaffery stole a ton of caps and ran off to Vegas. I guess the fact that we farmed out his usual work to you pissed him off.” She furrowed her brow and scoffed incredulously. “Let me tell you, no one steals from the Garret Twins. If you can kill that bastard and bring back as much as you can, you'll be paid very well.”
“Alrigh’. I think you know I can’t get in there right now, but the second I see that asshole, he’s dead.”
Francine grinned spitefully. “Good. Just stop on back when he's dead and you'll be rewarded handsomely. Bring his hat as proof of the kill.”
“Got it.”
Francine headed to the back once again, seemingly to clean off some other cups, while Luci downed some of her whiskey and Veronica swirled her wine glass around.
“Ooh. Fancy.”
Luci chortled. “Pfft. Is that why you ordered it?”
“Yeah. Drinking anything in these cups makes you feel like a bigshot, but especially wine.” Veronica sipped her wine.
Raul shrugged. “I’m a simple man, boss. I just like sugar.”
“I’ll keep that in mind. Ya like gum?”
“Sure do, boss.”
Luci reached into her bag and held it out to him. He took it, looking between her and the gum.
“Huh. Thanks, boss.”
“No problem, man.”

Rob and Boone followed Francine’s directions to a street off the main street near the fort, in a more ruined part of Freeside where most of the area was blocked by rubble. They headed to the end of the street, past a large pile of rubble, debris, and ruined cars, and under the dilapidated highway above. When they reached the end of the street, Roberto saw, just past the piles of rubble, the building Francine described in a large clearing.
They headed to the front door of the building on the left, past a burning barrel fire. Rob wasn’t sure who was keeping all those fires going.
The door led into a small, square lobby, with a counter across from the door with some filing cabinets behind it. There were two doors on the opposite wall, on either end of the front desk,
“Hm...Boone, open this door for me, please?” Rob walked up to the door on the left and rapped at it with his hand.
Boone slung his rifle off his back and walked up to the door., “Stand back.”
Rob quickly stepped back as Boone braced his left leg, then kicked it open with his right, his rifle aimed at the doorway as it opened up.
As soon as the door opened, a giant rat behind the door froze, then screeched and lunged at Boone.
“Gah!” He shot, missing it in his panic, and quickly kicked the rat away before ED-E shot it through with a laser.
ED-E then began to play his little marching tune as he floated into the room, fired one more shot at another rat just out of sight, then turned off the music and floated back to Rob’s side.
“Aw, good boy, ED-E,” Rob pat ED-E’s side.
Boone muttered something about rats and stepped inside the room, his rifle still up. He slowly lowered it, however, as he scanned the room.
“It looks clear.”
Rob looked inside, then headed in and to the left, where there lay a few old protectron holding pods, three of the four pods being empty. However, one, on the left wall, still held an untouched protectron. Rob approached the terminal to the left of the pod, mounted to the wall, and looked at the interface. Locked. It was a decently secure system, but he was able to get around it in a few minutes.
“Alright, I think I can program a system for a...protectron. I think.”
“How would that…?”
“I can make do, Boone. James asked for a sexbot, and those are hard to find, so he’ll be happy with what he gets.”
“Ugh.”
“It’ll take a minute. Best to get comfy.”
Boone sighed and leaned against the wall as ED-E beeped and stayed at Rob’s side.

“And...perfect. Well...good enough.” Rob double checked the last few lines of code for the process and closed up the terminal as the pod began to shudder to life.
The hatch on the pod slid open before the intact protectron stiffly stepped out of it. Boone nervously grabbed his rifle and jumped to his feet, but didn’t aim just yet.
The protectron shook as it processed its surroundings for a moment, then turned to Rob.
“Fully Integrated Security Technetronic Officer active and reporting for duty.”
“Hm, Boone, that is a bit of a mouthful. How should I shorten it?”
Boone shrugged.
“Ah, I know! Fisto! You are Fisto. A bit on the nose, but he is a sexbot.”
“Ugh.” Boone didn’t seem to be saying much else lately, Rob noticed.
Fisto processed this for a moment. “Yes, sir. Fisto reporting for duty. Please assume the position.”
“What? What does it do?”
“He’s named Fisto, Boone, what do you think he does?”
Boone just sighed again and pinched the bridge of his nose under his sunglasses.
“Hm...maybe I should test it out before I hand it over…”
“What the hell are you thinking?”
“Oh, please, Boone, it’s just an object, I’ve seen people fuck themselves with worse objects than this.”
“I haven’t.”
“It’s not like I’m asking you to stay here.”
“Fucking…” Boone shook his head. “It’ll take too long. Just send him over to Garret.”
“Ugh. Fine. Just…toss away a free service, I suppose. You’re not very frugal.” He turned back to Fisto. “Report back to the Atomic Wrangler. James Garret is your new owner.”
“Yes, sir!” Fisto clunkily stepped past Rob and towards the entrance of the building.
“Well, there’s that taken care of.” Rob led the way out, passing Fisto on the way.
“Finally.” Boone muttered.
They pushed open the front door to be greeted with the curious sight of a group of three old women in pink dresses murmuring among themselves ominously. The one closest to them stopped, ceasing the conversation, and turned to them
“W…Whooooo the fuck are you?” Rob sputtered out in his bafflement.
“Looky what we have here, ladies, another unsuspecting ponce!” The lead woman cackled maniacally as she drew a switchblade from her dress. The other two women raised their own weapons, a rolling pin and a bat. Rob was still unsure of how to react to this.
“Goddamn it!” Boone lifted his rifle and shot the closest woman as she lunged at him with the knife, dropping her immediately.
Rob yelped and finally moved as the second woman charged and swung the bat, missing his face by inches, and instinctively punched her in the face, staggering her, then grabbed his plasma pistol and shot her thrice. ED-E quickly dispatched of the third woman with his laser before she could get too close.
Rob gasped, putting his hand on his chest. “Bloody fucking hell! What was that?!”
“How should I know?!”
“God! This place is horrible!” Rob kicked the woman’s body. “Fucking cunts!”
“Greetings. Fisto is programmed to please,” Fisto added as he stepped out of the building.
“Fuck OFF, you stupid robot!”
“I’m so fucking tired.” Boone slung his rifle over his shoulder and continued past Fisto, looking more defeated than anything.

“I found your damn sexbot. It’s on the way in.” Rob growled as he sat on a stool in front of the counter. Boone seemed to be in similar spirits.
James immediately darted over to the counter upon hearing Rob. “You did? Hot damn! I been looking for one of those for years!” He paused, then quickly continued, “For my customers, I mean...I'm not into that kind of shit.”
“I assure you, I don’t give two shits about your fucking robots. What we need to talk about is payment. I programmed that bloody thing myself, and I assure you, it wasn’t exactly a cakewalk.”
James chuckled giddily. “Hey, I'm amazed you even found the thing in the first place,” He reached under the counter for the pouch of 200 caps, then grabbed another and placed it next to the first. “Here is double for your trouble. Those freaky fetishists ought to be satisfied now.”
“...Sure, whatever.”
“So, uh...does it need any setting up?”
“He’s pre-programmed. He’s called Fisto, so I think you can guess what for. Beyond that, he’ll follow any commands you give him.”
“It is? It will? My god! Imagine the possibilities!” James grinned, even more giddily than before. “It didn't happen to come with an owner's manual, did it? Aw, forget it - trial and error should do it.”
Boone just sighed again.
James quickly cleared his throat and continued, a little calmer. “And that gives us a full roster of new ass to sell. Good work - enjoy the bonus.”
“Sure. Just give me a scotch. Boone?”
Boone took off his sunglasses and rubbed his eyes exasperatedly. “I need a beer.”
“Yeah. That.”
“Coming right up.”

Guy held open the heavy wooden gates into the fort for Arcade, Jake, and Charon before heading in himself and looking around.
“Hm. I assumed your friends would already be helping out around here.”
“I mean, probably.” Jake shrugged, looking around, before pointing to one of the far walls. “I mean, Raul’s here.”
Raul was, indeed, at the fort, napping against the wall to the right, behind the tents. He seemed to wake up a bit when he heard them get close enough.
“Hrm? Oh, it’s you.”
“Hey, Raul! Uh, are Luci and Veronica here?”
Raul grunted and sat up, rubbing his eyes. “Sure, boss. Lucía’s in the back of the fort. I think Veronica’s in…one of those towers, taking stuff apart.”
“Thanks, Raul. I suppose we should leave you to get some shut-eye.” Guy smiled apologetically.
“Mmhm,” Raul replied dismissively as he leaned back against the wall and closed his eyes again.

Luci was in the back, where a couple of recovering patients were curiously watching her figure out how to repair the old motorcycle in the back, and Dante was curled up a few feet away, napping peacefully on her poncho. She turned, noticed them approaching, grinned and stood up, wiping her hands off on her shirt, which seemed to have been stained with oil long before she even started on the motorcycle.
“Heeey, what’s up, man?”
“We helped the King get rid of some asshole.”
Some of the recovering patients nodded and celebrated in their own, subdued manner amongst themselves.
“Alrigh’. He got any other work?”
“We were just about to ask him, but I figured I’d bring you along this time. I let him know last we saw him we had another friend looking for work.”
“Hey, thanks, man.” Luci pat Guy on the shoulder.
“...You’re, uh, welcome. Are you finished here?”
Luci looked back at the motorcycle. “Uh, not completely. I think the motor in the starter’s busted. I was sort of waiting to see if Veronica could find something in one of them old machines Julie said they keep around.”
Jake nodded thoughtfully. “Yeah. It is getting kinda late, too. Maybe we could just stay here and finish up what we can do to help.”
“Sounds good, man.”
“If, er…” Arcade interjected awkwardly. “If you want, I could probably get you started on…any medical help we’d need here, Jake.”
“Hey, alright!” Jake looked and sounded quite enthusiastic to hear it. “Can Charon come? I mean, he can just sit outside the tent if he needs to. Right, Charon?”
“If that is what you wish.”
“...I mean, are you okay with that?”
“If that-”
“Okay, I’ll take that as a yes!”
“While they’re up t’that, Guy, wouldja mind stayin’ and helpin’ me with anything that needs a little elbow grease? I would get Veronica t’do it, but, y’know, she’s busy.”
“Oh! Of course not, Luci!” Guy smiled. “After all, I think Arcade and Jake want to talk about their…their, er…”
Jake shrugged. “Literature?”
“Yes!”
Arcade shrugged. “Uh…sure. Anyway.”
They headed over to one of the medical tents, Charon and Dogmeat following, while Guy turned back to Luci.
“So! What did you need help with?”
Luci looked at the motorcycle. “Can ya hold it upright? I would just lean it, but it’s creakin’ whenever I do, and I figured I needed t’tighten some screws ‘n bolts, make sure the whole damn doesn’t go flyin’ apart when we start it.”
“Of course.” Guy stepped over to the motorcycle. “Where should I…?”
“Right ‘round here. Thanks. Lift it when I say.” Luci pointed out the middle part of the motorcycle and stepped away to grab her toolbox, looking for the appropriately sized wrench and screwdriver, as well as some screws and bolts for any that needed replacing. Once she’d gotten the tools, she headed back over and kneeled down to start tightening the bolts, first.
“Alrigh’. Lift.”
“Got it.” Guy lifted the motorcycle and kept it stable while Luci worked. “So, Luci.”
“Hm?”
“You said you were…trying to find Benny?” Guy already found himself straining a bit. The motorcycle was heavier than he’d expected.
“Uh-huh.”
“Why is that?”
“He has somethin’ of mine, and I’m lookin’ t’take it back.”
“What’s that, then?”
She snorted. “You ask a lotta questions.”
Guy chuckled, still a bit strained. “Heh. If I’m helping you…I think I’ve…earned it.”
“You can rest for a sec, if ya need to. Just let me know.”
“Right. One moment.” Guy carefully placed the motorcycle back down, leaning it against the wall of the fort.
Luci brushed herself off and inspected the motorcycle.
“...Alrigh’, those definitely need replacin’...”
“Anyway…the thing that was stolen from you?”
“A package I was s’posed to deliver. A platinum chip.”
“...As in, a poker chip?” Guy raised a brow. “Why would anyone want that?”
“No goddamn idea. All I know is I get paid if I can get it back and deliver it proper.”
“I suppose that’s a good enough reason as any.”
It wasn’t long after that they saw Veronica emerge from one of the watchtowers at the corners of the fort, holding a sack that clinked as she walked.
“Hey, Luci! So, I didn’t really know what motor specifically would fit in the starter, so I just grabbed any that looked like they’d work.” She placed the sack at Luci’s feet and looked at Guy. “Oh, hi! You’re Guy, right?”
“That’s right.”
Veronica looked around. “Where’s Jake and, uh, your friend?”
“Arcade. He’s showing Jake the ropes to being a doctor around here.”
“Ooh, alright.” She looked at the motorcycle, then at Luci. “Hey, I said I’d help you with the motorcycle!”
“I know, but you were busy. Didn’t wanna bother ya.”
Veronica huffed, but she didn’t sound very angry. “Pfft. You know I wouldn’t care.”
“Nah, but that ain’t all that matters. Thanks for the motors, by the way.” Luci opened up the sack and sifted through the parts for a minute before producing a small motor. “Alrigh’, I think this’ll work. Where’d ya get all these from?”
“They had a bunch of broken down generators in there. Most of them I could fix, but some of them, the best I could do was salvage the parts.”
“Well, it looks good. Let’s see if it works good.”
“Cool!” Veronica stood up. “You mind if I go see what Jake and Arcade are up to?”
Luci snorted. “I ain’t your boss, man.”
“Are you looking to be a doctor, too?” Guy questioned.
“No, I’m better with figuring out how machines work than, like…bodies. I just wanted to talk about…” Veronica shrugged. “I dunno. More about how the Followers do things around here.”
“In that case, I’m sure Arcade would be happy to let you know.”
“Great!” Veronica turned back to Luci. “Tell me if you need any help next time, okay?”
“Mmhm.”

“This your new doc, then?”
“You could say that.” Arcade stood to the side, watching carefully as Jake patched up the patient’s arm. He didn’t seem to be in as bad of a condition as some of the other patients there, but the wound wasn’t simple enough that anyone without at least a little medical expertise could take care of it.
“Hopefully!” Jake chuckled as he finished stitching up the wound. “Sorry if you can still feel some pinching. I don’t think Julie would want me wasting these guys’ anesthetic if I can help it.”
The patient, a local from the surrounding area with a previously infected arm, sharply sucked in a breath through her teeth as the needle pierced the skin one last time. “Shit. I mean, it’s fine. Can’t hurt more than the infection.”
“Why didn’t you come in earlier?” Veronica questioned from where she was observing, next to Arcade. “No judgment, obviously.”
“Thought you guys only treated Freeside locals.”
“Why?”
“I dunno. Kings only patrol around here, so we figured it was the same thing with the Followers.”
Arcade sighed. “Alright. Where are you from?”
“The Square. Just North of here.”
“...I’ll have to ask Julie if we can send a couple of volunteers out there. If just to let them know they can get help here.”
“I dunno, man, you guys seem pretty overworked as it is.” The woman shrugged, then flinched as Jake applied the alcohol. “Ow, fuck!”
“Sorry. That should be it.” He started on drying the wound, then grabbed the bandages. “If you want, I can go out there.”
“You wouldn’t mind?”
“I get the feeling you guys can’t really spare any doctors right now. And, well, I’ve been a traveling doctor for awhile already.” Jake finished wrapping the wound. “Okay, should be good. Remember to change the bandages and clean the wound with water and disinfectant every few days. If you don’t feel like you can do it yourself, I’m sure these guys wouldn’t mind if you came back to get it taken care of again.”
“Sure. Definitely not gonna let it get that bad again.” The woman stood up, sighing in relief. “Thanks. You guys…are alright.”
“No problem.”
The woman left the tent as Jake started putting away the supplies he’d used.
“That was pretty clean!” Veronica beamed encouragingly and turned to Arcade. “D’you guys think you’ll let him in?”
“Sure. Once Julie’s convinced of his good intentions, anyway. She prefers to get a good feel for people before she lets them represent us. And you, too. We don’t just need doctors.”
“Really?”
“Oh, yeah, for sure. You’re a whiz with machines. Better than I am as a doctor, definitely!”
“Aw, that’s…” Veronica chuckled sheepishly, then paused for a long moment, looking at the floor.
“What’s wrong?”
“...Nothing, it’s um…” She turned to Arcade. “Sorry, I mean, I really respect what the Followers are doing here. But, it’s just, uh…” She paused again. “I…I have responsibilities already. I mean, I’m following Luci around for a little, see more of the world, and all, but…at the end of the day…”
“That’s alright, too.” Arcade shrugged. “No one wants to force you to join. If you just want to chip in every once in a while, it’s always appreciated.”
Veronica beamed. “Thanks.”
Just as Jake had finished putting away the medical supplies, Guy peeked in, pushing the tent flap to the side.
“Hey! It’s getting a bit late. Are you all done here?”
“Yeah, I think so. Jake did pretty good, and I’m sure Veronica learned a thing or two about treating infections.”
“I sure did!” Veronica slapped Jake on the back, making him stumble a bit.
“Aw, jeez! You’re gonna break my back!” Jake grinned sheepishly.
“Heheh. Well, it seems like it went well.” Guy smiled. “Anyway. I thought I’d ask if everyone was planning on staying here tonight. Julie said we can sleep around the back.”
“Sounds good to me.” Jake grabbed his backpack and slung it over his shoulder again.
“Great. Anyway, Arcade, Julie said we could stay in your old tent. Though I thought, between us, maybe we’d need a bigger one, eh?” Guy grinned.
“...Guy, uh…can you not do this right now?” Arcade awkwardly glanced at Jake and Veronica.
“...Oh. Ah.” Guy blinked. “My apologies! That is…between us. Anyway.” Guy winked and ducked back out of the tent.
They were quiet for a minute. Arcade cleared his throat.
“Well, uh, you heard him.”
“Are you guys, like, a thing?” Veronica looked between him and the tent flap.
“No. No, uh, he just…that’s his idea of…fun, I guess. He does it with everyone, really.”
“He didn’t do that with me.” Jake pointed out.
“Well, you’re…” Arcade paused. “Wait, how old are you?”
“Like, twenty…three?”
“I think Guy has his limits. Mainly regarding age.”
“Oh.”
Veronica shrugged. “Well, I don’t really care. Kind of…a weird idea of fun, though.”
“I couldn’t agree more.”
“Well!” She clapped her hands together. “I’m gonna go see where Luci’s camping out.”
“Alright. I’ll come by in a second.” Jake turned to Arcade. “I’ll help ya disinfect the table and tools and stuff.”
“Thanks. And, er, let Guy know I’ll be done in a little bit, Veronica. If you want.”
“No problem!” Veronica exited the tent with a casual salute.
Jake turned to the disinfectant sprays the Followers seemed to be using for the tables as Arcade grabbed the tools he’d used.
“...Are you sure you weren’t taught by a Follower? Or an offshoot member? You seem pretty professionally trained.”
“Heh, yeah, uh…nah, I don’t think you guys are on the East coast. My dad taught me, actually. He was a really good doctor.”
“Who trained him?”
“...I, uh…I dunno. He never told me.” Jake wiped down the table. “He was a really good doctor, though. I…hope I can be like him. Someday.”
“Don’t…” Arcade sighed. “It’s a noble aim, but those kinds of expectations, when you’re the one placing them on yourself…they’re never achievable.”
“Why’s that?”
“Because, well…if you don’t have the person you’re aspiring for to be there to tell you it’s enough, it’s…you never feel like it’s enough.” Arcade paused. “...Sorry.”
“It’s alright.” Jake nodded. “I mean, I know that. It’s just hard to stop.”
“I know. Just…warning you before you’re too old to ever stop.” Arcade put away the tools after having disinfected them. “Anyway. I think we’re done here.”

“Finally, boss. I never get how young people can just be on their damn feet all day.” Raul tossed a piece of gum in his mouth, sitting by as they rolled out their sleeping bags nearby.
“Well, maybe you’re just a lazy old fuck.” Luci chuckled as she sat on her sleeping bag. “Gimme some gum.”
Raul tossed her a piece of gum as Veronica pushed her power fist to the side of her sleeping bag and flopped on her sleeping bag with a sigh.
“Woof. I’m beat.”
“Me too.” Jake stretched his arms out. “Hrmf. You’re gonna talk to the King, then?”
“Plannin’ on it.” Luci popped the gum in her mouth. “Why?”
“I was thinking of going to the Vegas Square, just outside of here, apparently. Followers need someone to go out there and make sure they’re okay out there.”
“You’ll be good by yourself?”
“Well, I’ll have Charon and Dogmeat with me, obviously. But, I mean, we should be okay. I’ve hiked across the whole continental U.S. with them and made it out the other side in one piece. So…I think one block in an old city should be okay.” Jake grinned optimistically.
“Hell yeah, man.” Luci nodded and laid down on her sleeping bag. “You go do that, and we’ll take care of shit here.”

“So, uh, this is the place?”
Luci looked up at the glowing sign of the “School of Impersonation.” She found it a little difficult to believe that a schmuck like all the others milling about outside of it ran Freeside. Typically when she thought of powerful gang leaders, she thought of those mafias up in Reno, or those Cartels down south, or that Caesar guy, not some guy pretending to be some bigwig from the past. Actually, maybe that Caesar counted.
“This is the place!” Guy affirmed, nodding amicably at the man at the door as they entered.
“They…really do all dress the same, huh?” Veronica commented. She sounded as if she was trying not to be offensive, and failing, judging from the side-eye of the surrounding Kings.
“I mean, uh, ‘cause it’s…a good…style.” Veronica smiled politely.
“Hell yeah it is!” One of the Kings barked after a moment’s pause, prompting the others to start shouting raucously amongst themselves and clapping each other on the back.
“It’s a little creepy, boss.” Raul added once the Kings were too busy yelling to hear him.
“Right?” Arcade sounded a bit relieved to hear Raul’s thoughts.
“Hey, hey, girl!” The King who had spoken in the first place continued, approaching Veronica specifically. “Are you stayin’? D’ya wanna beer or something? You guys can chill on the good couch.”
“Do you have a sister?”
“Uh, no.”
“Sorry.” Veronica shrugged.
“Huh?”
“Er, is the King still in the theater?” Guy interjected.
“Yeah. Why?”
“He got work?” Luci questioned.
“I think so.”
“Theater through there?” She pointed at the door closest to the entrance.
“Uh-huh.”
“Great.” Luci headed for the door.
“Bye!” Veronica waved chipperly and followed her, leaving the King looking quite dejected.

The King was, indeed, still in the theater, and the old music was still playing softly from the speakers. His odd cyberdog was curled up by his table as he stroked his ears, seemingly trying to comfort him.
“Is that a robot dog?” Luci pointed at the dog as they approached.
The dog raised his head, growling as the King also looked up at them. The sound prompted Dante to growl in return, his fur raising.
“It sure is, little lady. His name’s Rex.” The King smiled pleasantly and sat up. “And what’s that little critter?”
“This is Dante. He’s something called a cat. Sorry ‘bout him, he’s kind of a dick.”
The King chuckled. “Nah. It’s alright. He’s probably just spooked by Rex. He hasn’t been feeling too good.”
“I’m real sorry ‘bout that. I’m sure he’s a real good dog.”
“That’s kind of you to say. He really is.” The King looked at Guy. “Is this the friend you mentioned?”
“She sure is.” Guy pat Luci on the back. “Luci?”
“Oh. Yeah. Heh.” She turned back to the King. “Lucía Perez. These here’re my pals, Raul and Veronica.”
“Hi!” Veronica waved her metal fist, making the King look a little wary.
Raul just nodded.
“Huh. It’s a pleasure to meet you all.” The King nodded in turn. “Guy here says that you’re reliable, and I’m willing to take his word on it. Do you think you could handle a more important job, if he’s willin’ to let you take it?”
Luci looked at Guy. He nodded.
“Alrigh’. I could handle a hell of a lot else, so…shoot. What’s the deal?”
“Well, a lot of folks round these parts who've been here a while resent the sheer number of people that have come into the area since the Strip was built. In turn the newcomers, most of whom come from the NCR, have gotten ornery from being resented. Sometimes things get violent. This is one of those occasions. Recently, a few friends of mine were attacked, and I want you to find out who did it. Word's come that they just woke up over at the Old Mormon Fort just north of here. Roy, Wayne, and poor Farris. Head on over and see if they remember anything.”
“Got it. Y’want me to bust some heads when I find the bastards?”
The King chuckled, looking slightly nervously at Guy. “Heh, well, I appreciate your enthusiasm, but…just see how things pan out for now, okay? Try not to take any serious action until I know about it.”
Luci grinned. “I get it, man. No problem. I’ll be right back.” She turned back to Raul and Veronica. “Let’s get goin’!”
They headed out of the theater while Guy, Arcade, and Chico hung back.
“She’s…a character.”
“She’s been nothing but helpful to the Followers, at least!” Guy replied optimistically.
“Heh, well, I trust your judgment.”
“Why, thank you!”
“And I’m sure you’re well aware that her behavior reflects on you, too.” The King continued smiling pleasantly. “Right?”
“...Right, of course.”

Chapter Text

“Hey. Hey, Miss Doctor.”
The Follower Luci caught at the Fort seemed a bit taken aback by Luci’s interjection as she was heading across the courtyard.
“...Uh, what can I do for you, ma’am?”
“You guys apparently got some patients in recently. Roy, Wayne, and Farris. I’m a friend o’ theirs, can ya tell me where they’re stayin’?”
“Oh, of course, just…Farris is still in a bad way. He’s not in any condition to speak, and he needs to rest, so…just try and keep your voice down, and it might be best if only one of you went in to visit. They’re in that tent.” The Follower pointed at the tent along the right side of the fort, closest to the gate.
“Got it. Veronica, Raul, mind waitin’ out here while I talk to ‘em?”
“Yeah, no problem.” Veronica crossed her arms. “Seriously, I need to grab a book at some point.”
“Well, I gotta sit down, boss. You can’t ask me to just stand around too long.” Raul grunted as he heavily sat on an open plastic chair by the sandbags in front of the gates.
“Well, maybe you should carry ‘round a folding chair, then.” Luci snorted.
“You’re a real nice lady, boss.”
“I know.” Luci chortled and headed to the tent the Follower had pointed out.
She pulled up the tent flap to see three men inside, two sitting on flimsy plastic chairs, one next to a young man laying on a cot, covered in bandages and bruises. The other two men looked to be hardly in better condition, particularly the old man sitting next to the cot, his black eye swollen to the point Luci couldn’t even see the eye behind it. The two men looked at her enter, the old man looking particularly annoyed at her intrusion.
“Hey, Uh. y’all are Roy, Wayne, and Farris, right?”
“Leave us alone. Can't you see a man's fighting for his life here?” The old man gestured to the man in the cot.
“Sorry to bother y’all, but the King asked me to look into what happened.”
“Oh.” The old man paused, then continued, less irritably. “That's different then. I’m Roy. That’s Wayne. And this is Farris.” He looked at the man in the cot, his face falling as he mentioned his name, before turning back to Luci. “How can I help? I'll do anything to get the bastards that did this.”
Luci stepped into the tent, letting the flap fall behind her. “Well, first thing’s first. What can you tell me about the attack? What happened?”
“Well, it happened at night. Around eleven. We had recently made some caps off a bit of scrap we found, and wanted to invest it wisely. As we were leaving the Wrangler, we must've taken a wrong turn, and ended up in the Squatter side of town. From out of nowhere, these big guys show up and start barking questions at us. Wanted to know if we were locals. The kid there, Farris, he's about as proud as a local around here gets, and started yelling back at them. Then all hell broke loose.” Roy sighed heavily. “Kid got the worst of it, sad to say.”
“Didja get a look at whoever jumped ya? See what they looked like?”
“They were big guys. Young, too. No old geezers like me. Hell, none of them looked even half my age. I was mostly face down in the dirt, begging for my life when it happened, so I only got a quick look at them. Wayne might know more.”
“Wayne?” Luci looked back at the young man sitting by the tent flap, who sat up a little upon hearing his name.
“Uh, yeah.” Wayne paused, looking suspiciously between her and Roy. “Is it true, then? Did the King really send you?”
“Sure did, man. Can ya tell me anything ‘bout what happened?”
Wayne sighed, pausing for a moment to think. “I don't really know what else I can add. They were a bunch of guys. Better dressed than most Freesiders, I guess. That help?”
“A little bit. But every little thing counts.”
“Sorry I couldn't help more, especially since you're being so nice.”
“S’alright. Well…I should probably get out there, try’n see if I can find anything else.” Luci turned to the tent flap. “Thanks for the help.”
“Ri-” Wayne stopped, his face lighting up before he stood up, making Luci stop before exiting the tent. “Hey wait! I just remembered something. I might’ve heard one of the guys that attacked us call another by name. We had just about had it when one of them said ‘Hey Lou, we gotta go.’ At least I think he said Lou. It might have been something else.” Wayne paused, thinking harder than before. “Now that I think of it, he said Lou-something. Something with a ‘T’.” He stopped again, then continued, louder in the excitement of his revelation. “Tenant! That's what he called him. Lou Tenant!”
“He probably said 'lieutenant', Wayne,” Roy added exasperatedly, turning to Luci, “The boy means well, but he's dumb as a mutant sometimes.”
“Hey, I was the one who heard it!”
“Hell, it helps. Thanks, man.” Luci pat Wayne on the back.
Wayne beamed and sat back down. “Thanks! And, er, good luck!”

“Lieutenant?” Veronica repeated as they headed over to the Kings place. “You don’t think it was the NCR, do you?”
“Sure looks like it. I don’t know who the hell around here’d be called that.”
“Yeah.” Veronica sighed. “Man, things are worse here than I thought.”
“Well, now, that’s how I can tell you been livin’ in a hole. The guys with the guns beatin’ on the little folk happens in damn near every city you’re gonna see. Just ‘cause the guys with the guns’re soldiers don’t make them behave better.”
“...Guess so. Feels like things could be better, though.”
“Not anywhere I seen.”
“Isn’t that the truth.” Raul spat out his old piece of gum and popped another into his mouth.
“You need to slow down on that gum, old man.”
“My teeth’re already rotted, boss. I can’t do much to make them worse.” Raul shrugged.
“Gum doesn’t seem like a good choice, then,” Veronica added.
“I think you’ll find I don’t make many good choices, boss.”

“...Are…you sure that Luci can handle this reasonably?” Arcade questioned as followed Guy to the Atomic Wrangler.
“We haven’t even known her for long enough to make the assumption that she can’t, Arcade.”
“We also haven’t known her long enough to assume that she can. Especially considering how she indicated she wanted to handle it in the first place.”
“Well, I’m an optimist. Besides, Veronica does seem a little more…level-headed. I think she could calm Luci down if the worst comes to worst.”
“...If you say so.” Arcade didn’t sound convinced, but he dropped the topic anyway. “I hope Jake’s okay.”
“He seems capable enough. And his friend certainly does.”
“Yeah. I just…” Arcade paused. “He sort of…reminds me of myself when I was younger. In the best ways, mostly. Honestly, he’s probably better. But…”
“But?”
“...Nothing. I shouldn’t assume things.”
“Well, you already seem to be getting along!” Guy beamed as he slapped Arcade on the back. “I’m happy you’ve found someone you can talk about your literature and such with.”
“Yeah, I guess so.”
Guy stepped forward and held open the door to the Wrangler as they arrived. “Shall we?”
“You know I don’t like this place.”
“Well, local bars are always the best place for collecting info. I figure if there’s anything else to know about Freeside, it’d be in here.”
“...Yeah, actually, James is one of the better informed locals around here. Even if he’s insufferable.” Arcade stepped inside, followed by Guy and Chico.
They were at least a little surprised to see Roberto and the First Recon, or, rather, ex-First Recon sniper from before at the bar. Rob seemed to be chatting with Francine, while the sniper was leaning over the bar, nursing a beer bottle. Francine noticed them enter and paused her conversation with Rob.
“Hey, it’s you two. Come for a drink, then?”
“Sure.” Guy stepped up to the counter. “Er…where’s James, if you don’t mind my asking?”
Rob snorted. “He’s ‘busy’.”
“Busy?”
“Let’s just forget about him,” Francine added dismissively. “Anyway. What do you want?”
“...Alright. I’ll just have a beer. Arcade?”
“...I could do with some wine.”
“Comin’ up. You’ll need to pay first, though.”
“I get it.” Guy fished out the caps and placed them on the bar.
“Thanks.” Francine took the caps and went to get the drinks.
Guy sat at the counter next to the sniper, who didn’t seem to have reacted much to his presence, while Arcade sat at his other side. “I can’t say I expected to see you two here.”
“Where else would we be in this dump? This is the only place to get sloshed and to get shagged, so it’s the only place worth being.” Rob sipped his scotch.
“...I, uh, suppose so.”
“I know so.”
“...So, I don’t believe I got your name, sir.” Guy smiled politely at the sniper leaning on the bar.
“No. You didn’t.”
“...So…?”
“Boone.”
“And your first name?”
“Craig. But no one calls me Craig.”
“Alright, then, Mr. Boone, it’s nice to meet you.”
Rob snorted. “Pfft. ‘Mr. Boone.’”
“Just Boone is fine.”
“I see.” Guy nodded politely to Francine as she placed their drinks on the counter. “Thank you, Miss Garret. You already know who me and Arcade are, I trust.”
“Mhm.” Boone continuing looking at the countertop.
Guy gestured to his beret. “Like I was saying, that’s a First Recon beret.”
“Yeah. And I was saying I’m not with them anymore.”
“...I see. Same here.”
Boone looked up a bit. “Yeah?”
“Well, not First Recon. But I did serve for a long time.”
“How long?”
“15 years, 3 tours.” Guy pulled his dog tags out from under his shirt.
Boone sat up, looking just a bit more amicable. “Huh. When did you sign up?”
“I was, what, 16? Charlie company, before I became a Ranger.”
“Really? I…never met a Ranger off the field.” Boone held out his hand. “Thanks for your service. You were always godsends in the thick of things.”
Guy shook it. “It’s no problem. Just did what I was supposed to.”
“Oh, my GOD.” Rob interjected loudly and obnoxiously. “Why don’t you just suck his fuckin’ dick?”
“What is your fucking problem?” Boone snapped, turning away from Guy for a moment.
“He said it himself, it was just a fucking job. You clearly don’t like the NCR, but you still act like their little golden boys are fuckin’ angels.”
“I think…we just acknowledge we’ve gone through similar things, Rob.” Guy smiled, trying to ease the tension a little.
“Whatever.” Rob downed the rest of his scotch. He already seemed more than a little buzzed, so Guy decided not to judge him too harshly, and directed the conversation back to where it was.
“...Anyway, when did you sign up?”
Boone sighed heavily, turning back to Guy. “Around the same age as you, actually.”
“Why did you leave?”
Boone paused. “...Things went bad.”
“...I see.” Guy knew better than to press him further. “Same here.”
“Yeah?”
“Yeah. After Boulder City, I…I realized I had joined to be a hero, and that’s…that’s not what being a ranger is actually about.”
Boone just nodded knowingly as he took another swig of his beer.
“...Thank you. For your service, I mean. You deserve just as much credit as I do. If not more. First Recon really turned the tide back then.”
Boone placed his beer back on the counter and shook his head. “No, I…I don’t. But…thanks.”
Arcade took a sip of his wine, mostly having just been listening to them, before he looked up past Guy and choked on it.
“Beatrix?”
Guy turned to see that the ghoul merc from before was, indeed, in the Wrangler, seemingly having entered the main bar and theater area from the gambling room out back. She was dressed much more…revealingly than she was at the Fort, and, judging from the hat and some of the accessories, she was the ghoul cowboy, or, girl, that Rob had been looking for. She grinned and sat next to Arcade, closest to the door. Arcade looked like he wasn’t sure if he should look at her or not as she grinned in amusement.
“Hey, Arcade. I can say I was expecting a Follower around here anytime soon.”
“Uh, yeah, I’m guessing Rob offered you a job here?”
“Yeah. Sorry, but the pay and the booze just couldn’t be beat. Speaking of, Francie, get me a whisky.”
“Call me Francie again, and the free booze stops coming.” Francine stepped away to grab the whisky anyway.
“Heheh. Maybe if you stop making it so fun.” Beatrix leaned on the counter. “So. You still having fun running around with your new boytoy?”
“Please…don’t call him that.”
“I don’t mind!” Guy interjected with a grin.
“...Yeah, well, I do.” Despite himself, Arcade’s voice was notably tinged with amusement.
“Don’t get ahead of yourself. You’re too old to be a boytoy,” Rob added drily, pushing his glass forward on the counter, “I need more scotch.”
“You’re going to make yourself sick,” Boone mumbled.
“Don’t care.”
“He’s only 35, Rob.” Arcade sipped his wine.
“Are you saying ‘only’ for his sake or for yours?”
Arcade just sighed. Guy wasn’t sure if he was actually offended by that, or just tired of Rob.
Beatrix snorted. “Man, you are a real bitch, Rob.”
“Not to you, sweetheart.” Rob raised his glass and smiled, looking much more amicable all of a sudden.
“Whisky.” Francine placed the bottle and a whisky tumbler on the counter in front of Beatrix.
“Thanks, Franci…ine.”
“Not so hard, is it?” Francine scoffed and looked over at Rob. “You said you wanted more scotch?”
“Please.”
“You got the caps for it?”
“Sure, give…me a second.”
“By the way, Rob, you didn’t tell me the client wanted a cowboy.”
“Woof.” Guy looked over at Rob, who didn’t really seem to even notice them as he continued fishing for caps in his pockets.
“Well, it worked out, didn’t it?”
“Sure. Considering how most ghouls look down there, I don’t think he could tell the difference if he tried.” Beatrix cackled, and even seemed to prompt a bemused smirk from Arcade.
“Heh, that is…” Guy cleared his throat. “...Not something I want to think about.”
“Me neither.” Boone downed the rest of his beer. “Or that fucking robot.”
“That what?”
“Fisto.” Rob placed the caps on the counter. “Francine!”
“What is Fisto?” Guy realized what he had just said. “Do I want to know?”
“No.” Boone replied promptly.
“No.” Francine echoed him as she poured out some more scotch for Rob and took his caps.
“...Okay.”

“Bunch of soldier boys, huh?” The King’s tone remained steady, but Luci could still just make out the bitterness as he replied to her findings. “They usually don't come around these parts since their big base is on the other side of the Strip. If they're comin' over here now, it's got to be for a reason. I didn't want to believe the rumors that they're looking to take over Vegas, but now…” He sighed heavily and leaned back in his chair, crossing his arms. “If something big is going down, I'm sure rumors of it will have spread. Ask around, particularly in the squatter areas where the NCR folk hang. You might also mosey on over to the Mormon Fort and chat Julie Farkas up. The Followers tend to be in the know about these things. Just don't ask her what to do about it. She'll probably ask you to hug someone or somethin'.” He snorted in amusement.
“Yeah, I got that much.” Luci grinned. “If I find ‘em, I’ll take care of ‘em right quick.”
“Sure. But, like I said. Keep me in the know.”
Though Rex seemed to have mostly calmed down, he kept staring at Luci’s face every time she got too close. She still wasn’t really sure if he was looking at Dante or at her.

“Julie. You ain’t busy right now, are ya?”
Julie turned to Luci after leaving the brick tower at the corner of the fort. “Not particularly. Why, did you need something?”
“I just wanted to ask if ya knew anything ‘bout NCR soldiers ‘round here.”
“Only a little. A friend of mine, Major Elizabeth Kieran, has been handing out supplies to the poor a little west of here.” Julie paused before continuing with a tinge of skepticism. “What about it?”
“They been beatin’ on locals recently. They were the ones who jumped Roy, Wayne, and Farris back there.” Luci gestured to the tent in question. “The King ain’t too happy about it.”
“Right.” Julie sighed, with a tinge of frustration in her tone, though Luci could somehow tell it wasn’t directed at her. “I know something's got them riled up, but I've been too busy with other matters to really look into it. If you're looking into the matter, talk to Elizabeth. She's in charge of the operations here in Freeside, though she won't open up to you right away. If Elizabeth holds out on you, tell her that I sent you. She should be a little more forthcoming if you mention my name. And if you ask for her by name, I’m sure that if there’s any NCR soldiers stationed there, they’ll let you through.” She glanced at Veronica and Raul. “Though, they might be more forthcoming if you go alone.”
Luci looked back at them. They seemed to notice her looking over. Raul didn’t really seem to care, while Veronica waved enthusiastically. Luci grinned and saluted her back before turning to Julie.
“Alrigh’. I’ll let ‘em know. Veronica pro’ly won’t mind helping out ‘round here, but if you want the old man to pull his weight, you gotta pay him.”
“I…will keep that in mind.”
“In the meantime, me and Dante’ll go have a word with Elizabeth.”

Judging from Julie’s directions, the NCR seemed to be running their food pantry out of an old building by some rubble under the tall, dilapidated overpass running over the southwestern end of Freeside, past an old train station just by the scrap metal walls. It was guarded by two men dressed rather casually, but undercover soldiers weren’t hard to spot, for Luci, anyway. Their boots were a little too well-fitting, their body armor a little too well-kept, and it’d been a while since she’d seen anyone with a buzz cut and a shaved face that wasn’t a soldier.
They both stiffened and stood up, drawing their hands to the pistol holstered on their hips as Luci approached, their nervousness making their position all the more obvious.
The blonde man left of the door spoke first.
“Hey. What’s the password?”
“I’m here to talk to Major Kieran, actually. Sent by Farkas. It’s important.”
The man looked at his partner, who looked suspiciously at Luci. Her confidence seemed to be what prompted the affirmative nod from him. The blonde man nodded in turn and looked back at Luci.
“Alright. Go on.”
Luci headed through the door to find it led into a cramped, dimly lit building that was, judging from the layout, a corner store before the war. The NCR workers inside were behind the counter just ahead of the entrance, handing out food to whatever disheveled, hungry NCR citizens had found the place. It wasn’t long after Luci approached the counter that one of the NCR workers, a middle-aged woman with a short, blonde bob offered her a lunchbox and a couple of water bottles.
“Don’t worry, there’s enough food and water here for any citizen of the NCR. Help yourself.” She smiled welcomingly. Luci decided to play along for a minute.
“Thanks, man. You with the military, then?”
“Yes, I'm a major in the supply corps, which is where this food and water comes from.”
“And why don’tcha serve locals, too?”
Elizabeth crossed her arms indignantly. “That's not really a pleasant topic of conversation. Let's just say we have our reasons.”
“Julie wanted me to ask ‘bout it. Said it was important.”
Elizabeth paused, her posture relaxing a little. “You know Julie?” She paused, turning her eyes to the countertop. “Not everyone in the NCR sees eye-to-eye with the Followers, but they're okay in my book, mostly because of her.” She sighed and looked back up at Luci. “If you really want to know, we sent an envoy to the King offering to coordinate the relief effort.”
“...An’ he turned ya down?”
She scoffed. “In a manner of speaking. Our envoy was brutally beaten, and only barely survived. My superiors ordered the relief mission scrapped. I managed to get clearance to carry out the mission anyway, but with greatly reduced support. Now there's not enough supplies to go around even if I wanted to serve the rest of Freeside, which I don't.” She sighed again, heavier this time, and stood up. “But that's all in the past now. I should get back to work. Say hi to Julie for me.”
“I will.” Luci tipped her hat. “Chao, Miss Major.”
“That’s…” Elizabeth trailed off as Luci promptly turned and headed back outside.

“Seriously?” Veronica sounded genuinely shocked by the news.
“Seriously.” Luci scoffed. “I sure hope he got a good reason. His boys might think they’re big n’ tough, but they been pulling the wool over my eyes…”
“Well, hey, boss, I get where you’re coming from, but maybe just waltzing into their little, uh, ‘school’ and killing their boss in front of them isn’t a good idea.”
“I ain’t gonna do that. I’m just gonna talk to ‘im.”
“We should. I mean, say what you will about the Kings, but the King himself didn’t strike me as the kind of guy to do that for no reason…” Veronica trailed off.
“Nah, I get ya.” Luci nodded contemplatively. “I don’t think so, neither.”

“You find out somethin' about them soldier boys yet?” The King turned to Luci as she approached the table he was sitting at in the theater. He was absentmindedly scratching Rex behind the ears, which seemed to calm the dog, though his eyes were still darting nervously between Luci and Raul and Veronica, who were waiting by the door.
“Well…first thing’s first, I found out the NCR’s givin’ out supplies down by that big overpass southwest of here.”
“Handing out supplies? Like food and stuff?” The King shrugged nonchalantly. “That ain't nothing to get ruffled over. You find anything else?”
“Well, ah, they were only givin’ the supplies to their citizens.”
“Ah, that would explain the goons. They're here to keep people like my friends away from the food. That ain't something I support. No sir.” He sat up, his face hardening.
“Well, one of them Majors said they sent someone to talk ‘bout it with you.”
The King blinked. “They said what?”
“They said the guy they sent got the shit beat outta him. Almost died.”
“Huh, that would explain why they're all riled at us. Seems like we have a big misunderst-”
One of the Kings burst into the theater from the lobby, making Veronica and Raul jump.
“What the hell?” The King stood up as the man rushed over, panting.
“King, we got problems!”
“Lay it on me. What’s going on?”
“There's a shootout going down near the train station. It's Pacer and some strangers. Might be NCR.”
“What is that fool doing?” The King turned to Luci. “I need you to head out there and try to defuse the situation. Tell them I'm willing to cooperate.”
“Alrigh’. I hope for your sake you mean that.” Luci headed over to the door. “Ronnie, Raul, stay here. I don’t want ‘em thinkin’ I’m there to start a fight.”
“Okay.” Veronica paused, then peeked out into the lobby just before Luci left the building. “Hey, what did you call me?!”

The situation at the train station already looked pretty bad. The Kings were taking cover behind the concrete rubble covering the rails near the train station, which looked more like an outpost on stilts, where the NCR seemed to have taken up shelter. By the time Luci arrived, a few of the King’s men had already gone down, their bodies littering the gravelly ground.
One of the Kings stopped firing as Luci darted over to their cover behind the concrete rubble.
“Who the hell are you?!”
“I’m with the King!” Luci had to yell over the gunfire. “He wants me to talk things down!”
“Well, we ain’t gonna stop shooting if they don’t stop shooting!”
Luci sighed and peeked out briefly from behind the rubble. “Well, I need y’all to stop if I’m gonna get anywhere with ‘em!”
The King scoffed indignantly, but waved to the other Kings anyway. “Hey! Stop shooting!”
“What?!”
“King wants us to let up!”
“Why?!”
“Just fucking stop!”
It took a minute or two, but eventually the fire on the King’s side ceased, making the NCR let up on their part as well. Luci slowly stood up, holding up her hands, and approached the station.
Just behind the outpost, with a few of the other NCR soldiers, was Elizabeth. Like the others, she still had her pistol in hand, but relaxed a bit when she saw Luci.
“Oh, it’s…you.” She sighed heavily, looking past Luci. “This isn’t really a good time. What is it?”
“The King wants t’help with your…food supply thing.”
Elizabeth scoffed incredulously. “Like he helped the envoy we sent? No thanks.”
“That’s the thing. Wasn’t him. He didn’t even know ‘bout any envoy. And I believe him when he says that.”
“Then he should watch his back. We know for a fact that the envoy made it to their headquarters.” She paused for a minute to think before sighing heavily and looking back at Luci. “Still, if the King's willing to deal with us, perhaps we can work something out. I'll tell my men to stand down.”
“Alrigh’. That’s all I wanted t’hear. I’ll let ‘im know.” Luci tipped her hat and stepped away. The Kings watched the NCR apprehensively as Luci passed them.
“They’re gonna try n’ work with y’all now. For now, y’all take care o’ your dead.”

“Hey. He’s not in the theater anymore.” Veronica shrugged as Luci entered the School of Impersonation again. The lobby was more sparsely populated, and the Kings they were still there were on edge.
“He ain’t?”
“Uh, nope. He was talking to some of his friends here, and then he said he was gonna, uh…’retire to his suite.’”
Raul snorted in amusement.
“Uh. Alrigh’. Where’s that?”
Veronica shrugged and made an exaggeratedly confused noise. One of the Kings, however, had already noticed their exchange.
“The King’s suite’s on the third floor. Normally, we don’t let just anyone up there, but you been doing work for him. Plus, you’re a broad. So I can show ya up.”
Luci grinned. “Hell yeah, man.”
The man chuckled, slightly nervously. “Uh huh, hell yeah. Okay, um, I hope you don’t mind, but I think he’d just wanna talk to you.”
“You guys good?” Luci looked at Veronica and Raul.
“Yeah, sure. Julie gave me a book this time.” Veronica shifted her satchel onto her lap to root through it before proudly holding up a little novel.
“The less I gotta stand up, the better, boss.” Raul leaned back in his chair and crossed his arms.

The King’s man led Luci up to the door to his suite and knocked before entering. The suite itself was spacious, with a tall ceiling and many tall windows spaced around the walls. It was in pretty decent condition and housed quite a few luxuries, including a seemingly functioning nuka-cola vending machine, a pool table, and a wide, heart-shaped bed with a giant, velvet blanket. Next to it was a set of armchairs between a jukebox and the vending machine, where the King was sitting with Rex. Luci immediately noticed, however, the woman that appeared to be naked besides the blanket pulled up around her on the bed, absentmindedly checking her hair with a small hand mirror. She didn't seem to care much about Luci’s presence, but the King seemed to already be at attention upon hearing the knock on the door.
“Hey, good to see you.” He gestured to the armchair beside him. “Have a seat.”
“Sure, man.” Luci glanced at the blonde woman, who looked up and smiled politely. Luci grinned back and tipped her hat, prompting a bit of a blush before she sat down.
“I heard all about what happened.” The King reached into his pocket to grab a box of cigarettes. He took one between his lips and offered one to Luci, who accepted it. “Maybe it's time for a little more talkin' and a little less fightin'.”
“Couldn’t agree more, man.” Luci lit her cigarette first, and offered the King a light in return.
The King nodded graciously as he took a drag of the cigarette. “You've helped us plenty, so I'll tell you what. Just this once, name whatever you want, and if I can make it happen, it's done. Don't rush it, though. Toss it around in your head a little. You only get one favor from The King.”
“Hm…Alrigh’.” Luci paused, exhaling the tobacco smoke, and stared at the swirling fumes. “...Well. I’d ask for that dog, but I get a feelin’ he means a lot t’ya.” She grinned humorously.
“Heh. You’d be right about that. Me and Rex’ve been through a lot together. Maybe not so much recently, though. Like I said, he ain’t feeling well. Are ya, Rexie?”
Rex whined as the King scratched him behind the ears again. He seemed calm, but kept eyeing Dante.
“He alright with a pet?”
“Sure. Usually, he don’t like hats, but it looks like he got used to ya.”
Luci let Rex sniff her hand a bit before scratching him under the chin. “‘Bout that favor. My…er, pal back there, Guy. He helped ya out, too.”
“I remember.”
“I’d get it if ya can’t be good on this, but…I can only take that favor if he gets one.”
The King raised a brow. “Huh. Is that so?”
“That’s so.”
The King paused for a moment, then grinned and nodded approvingly. “Heheh. I appreciate a man…woman with integrity. Two favors it is, then.”
“Thanks man.” Luci leaned back, making Rex paw at her leg for a moment before the King started petting him again. “In that case…d’ya figure you can get me and my pals into the Strip?”
“Sure can. I have a friend who has just what you're looking for, has a shop over yonder by the east gate, named Mick & Ralph's. Just tell Ralph that I sent you and he'll get you squared away.” The King smiled and tapped his cigarette on an ashtray on the arm of his chair.
“Seriously?” Luci blinked. “It’s…a lotta caps, man.”
“My boys are the only reason Mick and Ralph’s doesn’t get robbed every couple hours. I can get ‘em at a good price. And, either way, it isn’t your concern. A favor is a favor.”
“Thanks, man. Say, uh…” Luci paused, staring at Rex. She really hadn’t seen anything like him.
“Where’d ya get that dog, anyhow?”
“Hm? Oh, right. I got Rex here from a salvager a few years ago. He was a little dinged up when I got him, but one of the Followers fixed him right up.”
“Heh. I don’t doubt it. They’re good people.”
Rex whined and curled up next to the King’s armchair, resting his head on his paws. It was difficult not to look at the brain in the glass casing making up the top half of his head, and, while Luci wouldn’t really know what a normal brain looked like, the brain in Rex’s head didn’t look…quite right. The brain and the fluid it was floating in looked somewhat gray and soupy.
“...Is, uh…is somethin’ wrong with him?”
The King sighed heavily and leaned down to scratch Rex’s scruff. “Yeah. He's been acting peculiar for some time now. I took him to the Followers and had him checked out, and they said his brain is bad or something.”
“Is he gonna be alright?”
The King sat up a bit again. Once Luci could see his face again, his usually placid look was strained a bit, his brow furrowed and mouth taught with worry.
“For now, but they said eventually he's going to get worse. I don't know what to do.”
“...Any way I could help?”
“I don't know. Maybe.” The King hesitated. “If you found a way to help my poor Rex here, I'd be much obliged. Your best bet would be to talk to Julie Farkas over at the Old Mormon Fort north of here. Maybe you'll have better luck than I did.”
“Then I’ll take care ‘o that.” Luci took one more drag of her cigarette and stood up. Dante clung to her shoulder a little tighter to stay on, still staring at Rex.
“You sure you don’t have anything else to do?”
“...I’ve got some other business ‘fore the Strip. Far as I’m concerned, Rex's more important than the asshole I’m lookin’ for.”
The King relaxed a little, his tranquil smile returning as he leaned back in his chair. “In that case, I can’t thank you enough. Let me know what they have to say.”
Luci stepped away, cracked another grin at the King’s girl, and headed back downstairs.

“Sooo?” Veronica stood up from her seat in the lobby as Luci entered from the back of the building. Raul seemed like he had only just been slightly roused by her movement.
“The King said he can get us some passes into the Strip.”
“Yeah!” Veronica grinned enthusiastically.
“Always wanted to go to Vegas, boss.” Raul yawned and stood up. “Mostly ‘cause of morbid curiosity. But, still.”
“Well, we’re gonna wait on that for a minute. If y’all don’t mind.”
“Oh.” Veronica’s voice was just tinged with disappointment, but she was clearly trying not to let it show. “Why’s that?”
“The King’s dog is sick.”
“...Oh, the cyberdog!” Veronica sounded a little more enthusiastic. “I’ve never seen one before him, but…yeah, he didn’t seem so good. I’m guessing it’s a problem with the brain?”
“Sure is.” Luci pat Veronica on the shoulder, prompting her and Raul to follow her outside. “How’d ya know?”
“I mean, it just didn’t look right. I’ve heard that cyberdogs can live for, like, centuries, too. Sooo I don’t think a regular old dog brain would be doing too good after that long. Even if it’s being preserved.”
“...Never thought I’d meet a dog as old as me, boss.” Raul coughed absentmindedly. “Not after 100, anyway.”
“How old are you?”
Raul just shrugged. Luci had already gotten a feeling from last time she asked that they weren’t going to get a straightforward answer.
He was saved from further questioning by Veronica when they spotted Guy and Arcade at the far end of the street outside the King’s School, exiting the Atomic Wrangler. No wonder, as it seemed to already be getting dark. Luci hadn’t even realized she had gotten hungry.
Guy and Arcade seemed to notice them in turn. Judging from her initial impressions, she wasn’t surprised that Guy seemed like he had a few drinks, but Arcade didn’t strike her as the kind of guy to even get a little buzzed. She wasn’t surprised that Guy was the first to greet them.
“Lucía!” He waved with a lopsided grin and turned to Arcade. “Arcade, it’s them!”
Arcade looked the more put together, and also the redder, between them. “Yeah, I…I see them, Guy.”
“Heeey!” Veronica waved back as they approached. “We were helping the King.”
“We, uh…one of them was telling us there was a shoot-out?” Arcade looked nervously at Luci.
“Hey, I didn’t start it, man. I stopped it.”
“...Really?”
“For sure, man.”
“...Could-could you elaborate on that?”
“It’s a long goddamn story, man.” Luci shrugged. “I’ll tell ya at the fort.”
“...I assume you’re all staying there again?”
“What, y’don’t want us there?” Luci grinned.
“Nooo! Of course not! Arcade, right?” Guy slapped Arcade on the back again.
“No. I mean, yes. I mean…” Arcade rubbed his face exasperatedly. “Uh, yeah, I mean…if Julie said it’s fine.”
“What were y’all up to, anyway? Just gettin’ drunk in the Wrangler?”
“...Kind of.”
“Arcade was talking to his prostitute friend.”
Luci snorted, Raul looked mildly affected by the comment, and Veronica looked more taken aback than the two of them.
“I mean, it definitely isn’t the first time I’ve gotten drunk with a prostitute.” Arcade paused, then quickly added, his face getting redder, “I-I mean, talking to them. Talking. I didn’t-I did get drunk, but. I talked.”
“I wanna get drunk with a prostitute.” Luci remarked wistfully.
“...Okay?”
“You can, if you like ghouls.” Guy chuckled, mostly to himself.
“Or Santiago,” Arcade added, “But I think even less people like Santiago.”
“That sucks, man.” Luci shrugged ambivalently. “Let’s just go. Nothin’ for it.”
“...I guess?”
“Did that guy find a ghoul cowboy?” Raul suddenly interjected.
“Oh. Yeah. Well, cowgirl. Uh, you met Beatrix? In the fort?”
“Damn, her?” Luci whistled. She wasn’t sure what she was trying to convey with the whistle, herself.
“Yeah. Uh. Her client apparently wanted a cowboy, but, uh, beggars can’t be choosers I guess.”
“Y’hear, Raul? You disappointed that man.”
“I’m very sorry I disappointed that…probably creepy guy, boss.”
“For shame, Raul.” Veronica crossed her arms in faux disapproval.
“...Still not sure I like any of you.” With that, Raul started on his way back to the Fort, prompting the others to follow him.
“Hey, c’mon, wey, we’re fuckin’ with ya!” Luci cackled as they jogged to keep up with him.
“Do you know what I mean when I say, ‘no mames,’ boss?”
“...No.”
Raul sighed heavily. “Yeah, of course not.”
They didn’t continue their talk much after they saw Jake by the entrance of the Fort, kneeling and chatting to some kids. Luci vaguely remembered seeing them chasing around a rat earlier, but they seemed to have given up their chase in lieu of boxes of Fancy Lad Snake Cakes, presumably from Jake. They had both already started scarfing them down, but one of them seemed to be half-talking with Jake.
“So what happened to them?”
“I mean, last I saw them, they were doing okay. Buuut, I still wouldn’t recommend running off on your own. Kids need grown-ups sometimes, and grown-ups need to take care of ‘em.”
“Well, they didn’t.”
“Because they got really lucky. And even if you did, then you’d end up being a butthead like MacCready.”
The kid snorted and giggled, the other kid joining him past his mouthfuls of cake. “Pfft! Butthead!”
“He was! For real!”
“Jake.” Charon alerted him curtly, staring at Luci and the others as they approached.
Jake looked up, then back at the kids. “Okay, just remember. Ask for me or Julie if you guys don’t feel safe. And, er, please don’t eat rats. Or cook ‘em or something.”
“Okay! Thanks, mister!” The second child finally spoke up after finishing his cake.
“Yeah, thanks, butthead!” The children both started cackling as they darted off.
“Hey! I said Mac was the butthead, buttheads!” Seemingly despite himself, Jake chuckled for a minute before turning to the others. “Hey, guys!”
Luci looked after the kids for a moment before looking back at Jake. “...Who the hell’s MacCready?”
“Some stupid kid.”
Luci shrugged. “Alrigh’.”
“How did, er, North Vegas go?” Arcade questioned a little more politely.
“Pretty good. I mean, everyone was…okay, in attitude, at least. I took care of anyone with just some minor wounds or colds or fevers or something, but there were a couple people that didn’t look good enough to walk all the way here. Mostly old folks. I figured I’d tell Julie about it and see if you guys could spare anyone when you could.”
“Knowing our staffing situation it might be a minute…” Arcade sighed. “But, yeah, it’s worth trying.”
“So we’ll try!” Jake replied chipperly.
“Mmhm.”
“...Are you, like okay?”
“...Why are you asking?”
“‘Cause you’re like, really red.”
“Oh. Oh, god, really?”
“He’s just a little drunk!” Guy slapped Arcade’s back again. “We just had…had a few drinks at the Wrangler.”
“...Oh. Uh, okay? Luci, did you help out the King?”
“Yep. He said he can net us some passes into the Strip himself.” Luci grinned.
“Yeah!” Jake raised his fist triumphantly. “So, are you guys gonna just get some sleep, head on over tomorrow?”
“Nah.”
Jake lowered his fist awkwardly.“...Nah?”
“I’m gonna help out his robot dog. ‘Pparently his brain’s sick.”
“His brain’s sick?”
“I just assumed it’s been in there for a while. Whatever kind of stuff is preserving it, I doubt it lasts forever.” Veronica shrugged.
“Oooh, yeah. Jeez, how old is he, then?”
“I dunno. I’ve heard they can go for centuries, though.”
“Damn, for real?” Jake whistled. “In that case, yeah, we should probably do something about it.”
“We?” Luci raised a brow.
“Sure! I’m not just let a robot dog die, it’s like, the coolest thing I’ve ever seen. And cutest. Well, second cutest.” Jake scratched Dogmeat’s head.
“Third.”
“Huh?”
Luci grinned again and pointed at Dante, still perched on her shoulder. “Third cutest.”
“Ooh, I’m not arguing about this.” Jake chuckled, but still looked a bit indignant at her reply.
After they’d entered the Fort, Guy suddenly grabbed Arcade’s shoulder, startling him a bit.
“Arcade!”
“Oh god, what?!”
“Can…can you read me a bit of that book? That story?”
“What?”
“The eye…the ill…Uh.”
“The Iliad?”
Jake blinked. “You read the Iliad to him?”
“Yeah. I mean…I think something that old might be a little difficult to parse if you’re not used to it, so I’m like a…reading guide, more like.”
Jake cleared his throat, then started speaking in an oddly theatrical tone that attracted the attention of the nearby mercenaries, playing cards by the gate, “‘Sing, goddess, the anger of Peleus’ son Achilleus and its devastation!’”
Arcade looked a bit taken aback for a moment before cracking a bit of a nostalgic smile and replying, albeit in a much more subdued manner, “‘which puts pains thousandfold upon the Achaians.’”
Luci thought that sounded quite dire, and hoped that they were just talking about that old story.
“Heheh, yeah!” Jake looked positively giddy with Arcade’s reply, however quiet it was.
“Boss.” Raul suddenly interjected. “I’m not gonna lie, you’re a nice kid, and I haven’t said this…in forever, but you sound like a fucking nerd.”
Luci snorted. “Pfft. Yeah.”
Jake started to look almost uncharacteristically flustered as he threw up his hands. “Wha-No I’m not! I just like good books! Do you even like literature, Raul? ‘Cause you wouldn’t get it!”
“It’s pretty…” Arcade began.
“Yeah, I used to. Most people did, in Mexico. Unless the American soldiers decided it was…inflammatory, or something.”
Arcade blinked. “The…what?”
Raul hesitated, seemingly realizing he had said a little too much about himself. “...Nevermind, boss. I’m going to bed.”

He headed on to the back of the Fort before anyone could think to stop him.
“...He would be…so interesting if he would say anything else about himself.” Arcade sounded almost frustrated.
“Most things’re better left behind, man.” Luci slapped him on the back. “I’ll hit the hay too. Ronnie, you comin’?”
“Only if you say you won’t make a habit of calling me Ronnie.” Veronica only sounded like she was half-joking.
“Pfft. Sure.”
“I’m keeping an ear out.”
Jake sighed heavily as they headed after Raul. “Okay. Well, goodnight, guys.”
“Just Guy. Actually.” Guy snorted, then guffawed loudly, attracting the attention of some nearby doctors and mercenaries by the gate.
Arcade seemingly just decided not to react to him. “Goodnight, Jake. We’ll, uh, chat tomorrow, right now, I’m already kind of feeling…”
“Dude, already?”
“You get hungover much faster and from much less alcohol when you’re…past 30.”
“...Oh, shit, for real?” Jake looked at Charon. “Is he for real?”
Charon looked almost incredulous that Jake was asking him. “...Why would I know?”
“I dunno, I just assumed…nevermind. Get some sleep, man.” Jake waved passively at Arcade and Guy before jogging after Luci and Veronica. Charon slowly stepped after him.
“...So. Arcade.”
“Yeah?”
Guy grinned. “Is there an…empty bedroom around here?”
“...That’s…please don’t say things like that out loud.” Arcade got somehow redder than he already was and headed for one of the tents.
“What? I was just…I just wanna sleep somewhere more comfortable!”

Chapter Text

Rob felt pleasantly numb for a good while, but now he had drunk enough that the nausea was starting to climb up his throat. Maybe he’d throw up outside the bar and hope that made him feel better. If nothing else, he could just find an old building to lie in until he passed out or until the pain passed. The gentle hum and warmth from ED-E, tucked onto his lap as he leaned on the bar, comforted him somewhat. It could be worse.
Boone hadn’t drank much at all, much to Rob’s surprise. Just a couple of beers. Then, after Guy and Arcade had left, he had opted to just lean on the bar, staring at the wood countertop, his hand tucked in his pocket. It looked like he was messing with something inside. Rob would joke about it, but he was too tired for that, and Boone wasn’t exactly the most entertaining audience.
Rob only looked up a bit when the door opened and a tall, dark old man entered, wrapped in a thin duster and his face mostly obscured by the broad hat he was wearing, his face turned downwards as he closed the door behind him. It took a minute for Rob to see his face and recognize him as Nathaniel.
“Hey, little lady.” He flagged down Francine with a small, polite smile.
“It’s Francine.” She replied curtly, stepping over to the counter. “What do you want?”
“Just a shot ‘o whisky, please. And a room, if you’ve got one.”
“Sure. But we don’t take payments on credit and we don’t have tabs.”
“I get it.”
“Good. 10 caps a room, 5 caps a shot.”
“Damn, half a room, huh?”
“It’s good whisky.”
“If it’s anything like the scotch, I’d say y’were a lyin’...” Rob trailed off, his tongue starting to feel a little too sluggish.
“Rob, shut the fuck up.”
“...biiiiitch.” Rob cackled, mostly to himself.
Nathan snorted. “...Sorry, little lady. I’m sure the whisky’s good. Lay it on me. That, and the room.” He counted out some caps and handed them over in exchange for a key before Francine grabbed the whisky and a shot glass.
“...Sssay, it's...you." Rob jabbed a finger at him. "Hm? Oh, Roberto, Boone." Nathan smiled politely and nodded to them. "Good to see you again." Boone just nodded in return. Rob continued squinting at him as Nathaniel nodded courteously to Francine and downed his shot of whisky. "I...I definitely seen you b'fore."
Nathan chuckled. “Well. If you insist. But I certainly don’t remember you, pal. Before Black Mountain, anyway.”
“...Mm…” Rob pushed himself up. “...Y’know, heh, I…I always…had it in for tribals. Huh?”
Nathan placed his shot glass on the countertop and turned to Rob. He was smiling, but the hard look in his eyes was threatening enough.
“Then you should know that tribals don’t like hearing that. Pal.”
“....Wooooof, sorry. God..jeez.” Rob leaned on the bar again.
“Stop being an asshole, Rob.” Boone mumbled absent-mindedly.
“You should know by now that’s…a stupid thing to say, Boone.”
“Well, you’d do well to listen to your friend.” Nathan leaned over. “Say. Meant to ask earlier. Is that an eyebot?”
“Hm? Sure. He’s not for sale.”
“‘He,’ huh?”
“Yes. He’s mine.”
“I get it. But that’s a surveillance bot, pal. I wouldn’t be surprised if he’s been scanning your face, recording you this whole time.”
Rob snorted. “For who?”
“Dead men.” Nathan grinned, as if in amusement at an inside joke. One that Rob didn’t really get.
“Exactly. So I don’t give a shit.”
“Heheh. I suppose so, pal.” Nathan rapped his fingers on the countertop, then stood up. “Man. I need t’go to bed. I’m too old to stay up this late.”
“Heh, y’sure…y’don’t wanna…uh…”
“If that’s supposed to be a pick-up line, well…” Nathaniel smiled pleasantly. “Maybe you were a lady, ‘bout 20 years older…well, I’d still be married.” He chuckled, pushed away his shot glass, and headed for the stairs up to the second floor.
“...Damn it.” Rob huffed and laid his head on the bar.
“Too bad.” Boone stood up. “...Where’re we sleeping?”
“You can go ahead and buy a room if you want.” Rob pushed himself up, prompting ED-E to float up off his lap. “I’m going to pass out in one of those old buildings outside.”
“You’re going to get robbed.”
“Whatever.” Rob stumbled over to the door and promptly exited the bar, holding the door open for ED-E as he followed.
Boone paused for a moment.
“...I better make sure he doesn’t get mugged.”
Francine just shrugged ambivalently.

Rob holed up in the second floor of the abandoned building just next door to the Wrangler. He considered laying out his sleeping bag when he dumped his backpack on the ground, but decided against it. Even if he weren’t too drunk to do anything, he didn’t feel like he deserved anything more than sleeping on the bare, stripped concrete.
So he just put his back against the wall and slid down to the ground. ED-E beeped and floated a little lower, next to his head.
“I’m…fine, laddie.” Rob pat ED-E on the side.
ED-E beeped again.
“...Not really. But there’s nuthin’ you can do…’bout it.”
Rob sat up a little when he heard Boone’s footsteps coming up the stairs. He glanced at Rob, then stepped over to the opposite wall and sat against it.
“...Who are you talking to?”
“ED-E, you…fuckin’...knobhead.”
“No one knows what the fuck you’re saying half the time.”
Rob snorted. “Pfft. Don’t care. Still funny…to m-” Rob stopped himself.
“What?”
Rob stood up, feeling the bile rising in his throat, and just reached the window frame just to his right before throwing up onto the street below.
“Oh, Jesus!”
Rob gasped. “You never seen anyone vom-” He stopped again as another wave of bile pushed up his throat.
“Fucking hell. I told you not to drink that much.”
Rob finally felt like he had thrown up enough and stepped back from the window, still gasping. “Fuck. Bloody hell. Do I have anything in my beard?”
“...A little bit.”
“Goddamnit.” Rob stepped over to his backpack and rummaged through it for a water bottle, chugging some of it before pouring a bit over his beard. “Ugh. I can’t believe you hardly drank anything.”
“Didn’t want to.”
“Why?”
Boone paused. “...Because I didn’t want to. Not right now.”
“Later, then?”
“...I don’t know, why the fuck do you care?”
“I don’t know. Just want to know someone else is as miserable as I am.”
“I think that’s obvious.”
Rob snorted as he sat back down. “I guess so.”
They both sat in silence for a long few minutes, listening to the din of the streets outside and the whir of ED-E’s motors as he floated over to Rob and dropped into his lap.
“...Are you gonna go to sleep?” Rob was surprised to hear Boone speak first.
“No. I don’t suppose you are?”
“No.”
Rob grabbed a cigarette from the case on his belt and tossed one to Boone. “Here.”
“...Thanks.” Boone looked a bit taken aback by the offer.
“...I feel like shit.”
“Me too.”
“You’re not shit-faced.”
“Doesn’t matter.”
“Pfft. Guess not.” Rob lit his cigarette and took a drag of it. “Wish I was fucking dead.”
“Mmhm.”
Rob paused. “Thanks.”
“For what?”
“Not telling me to feel better.”
“Wouldn’t matter.”
“Sure fucking wouldn’t.” Rob tossed his cigarette, leaned over, and laid on his back on the cool, rough concrete. “...I’m gonna try and pass out.”
“Go ahead.”
“Say, there’s a reason to get plastered.”
“I’ll think about it.”