Boone was getting damn tired. Manny had long gone down to his bed in the old motel, leaving Boone to his nightly vigil of the small town of Novac. Having the night shift was an OK deal to Boone; besides some stray radscorpians and keeping an ear out for the McBride's ranch, he was left alone for the most part and solitude was always preferable. Tonight, though… something was different. It wasn't like Boone to become restless – years of training easily put fatigue in the back seat… or so he thought. The truth was it wasn't just his nightly routine up in this ridiculous dinosaur's mouth that had his eyelids drooping. Christ, he hadn't slept properly in weeks, months… maybe even years. Boone felt a crack in the back of his mind, promptly shutting down any further thoughts on that particular subject just as he caught sight of a figure making their way into Novac.

"And who might you be…" Boone muttered as he swung his rifle carefully to his right, his scope zooming in on the figures dirty face. It was too dark at this hour of the morning to fully make out their features… but not dark enough to know he had the shot he needed. The wanderer cautiously looked left and right as they came to the junction in the middle of town, Boone moving his scope to the nine millimeter tightly clutched in the figures small hands. He watched as their head twisted to the left to carefully look over the canteen area set up alongside the road. Boone's eyes narrowed as the figure nodded to themselves and holstered their weapon, clearly placated by the silence of the small town in the early hours of the morning. Boone wondered if Jeannie-May was up and in the lobby of her motel as he watched the wanderer mosey over to the Dino-Deelite's battered front door. The opening and closing of the door solidified Boone's assumption and he shrugged his shoulders, easing himself back into his usual position and steeling himself against any further bitter musings.

God damn, he was tired.

Thwump.

The old bed beneath Lyra squealed in protest as her weight crashed onto it, Lyra barely acknowledging its old spring's cries for help as she threw herself on top of the mattress.

"Bed sheets? Pillows? This place knows how to spoil a girl…" She muttered happily into the musky pillow, ignoring the moldy smell and instead relishing in the vast difference between this and the Mojave's cold, hard earth. Lyra was exhausted; it had been a long walk from Goodsprings to here and she decided after a few hours sleep she would haul ass and start asking around about this Benny fuck. Sighing as she rolled onto her back, she examined the crumbling paint on the ceiling as her face darkened in thought. Absent-mindedly her hand reached up to her forehead, her fingers tracing around the scar in the top right corner. She couldn't remember shit. In the nights since she had been pulled out of her early grave, she struggled to remember what had happened. Lyra squeezed her eyes shut, hoping that the act would magically make her memories come jumping back to her and was disappointed when no such thing happened. Her stomach let out a disgruntled growl.

"Yeah, yeah… "Lyra grumbled as she reluctantly pulled herself out of the bed, walking over to the table that had her small pack sitting on top of its destroyed surface. Her fingers deftly pulled the leather straps apart as she reached inside, rummaging until her hands found the familiar feeling box she was looking for. Fancy Lads Snack Cakes… nothing like a sugar rush to put you to sleep. Lyra smiled bemusedly as she ripped open the box, plucking out the plastic wrapped cake and making her way back to the bed, her fingers ripping open the plastic wrap and bringing the cake to her mouth. Her one hand reached up and pulled her long, straight, blonde hair out of its tight ponytail as her mouth worked on the stale snack cake. It wasn't exactly the breakfast of champions, but it would do. She walked over to the dresser across from her bed and grinned at the Sunset Sarsaparilla sitting atop, popping the rest of the cake into her mouth as she twisted the cap off the top of the bottle. Lyra preferred Nuka Cola but she would take what she could get. She tipped the bottle up and chugged down nearly half as she walked over to her pack, tossing the bottle cap into the bag as she pulled the drink from her lips, gasping for air. Movement out in the motels yard caught her eye as the early morning sunshine came through her window's blinds.

"And who might you be, handsome..."

Lyra finished gulping down the rest of her root-beer; her eyebrow cocking as she watched the figure in the red beret make his way to the motel's other rooms. He was tall, dressed in nothing but a grimy white t-shirt, army fatigues and boots… but boy was he built. She noted the rifle slung onto his back and the careful yet sure way in which he carried himself. He screamed military. Another figure appeared from beneath her room, this one also in a red beret. He wasn't as tall or built as the first man, but their movements were similar. The two men nodded to each other as they passed, one heading towards the dinosaur statue the bigger man had come from. Lyra strained her neck to watch Handsome, as she had decided to call him, head for a motel door at the opposite, bottom end of the motel. She nodded to herself and decided she would climb into bed and get a few hours rest, hoping that someone in this god forsaken town would be able to point her to retribution.

"So, let me get this straight… before you'll tell me jack about this Benny guy… I have to go take care of some ghouls for you? You're clearly ex-military; can't you take care of it yourself?" Lyra was not impressed. It turned out one of the red beret-wearing men was named Manny and sure, he had info about Benny… but Lyra had to earn it; typical wasteland prick.

"My hands are tied; I have to man this post to keep Novac safe… I don't have time to go off gallivanting. Boone needs his rest so I need to be here during the day. Listen, I have a problem that needs a solution… and so do you. I think fair is fair."

"You're a dickbag."

Manny crossed his arms and gave Lyra an admonishing glare, tutting at her as he shook his head.

"Keep that attitude up, and I'm not telling you shit."

Lyra cocked at eyebrow at Manny, "Alright, I'll look into it… no guarantees though… I'm a busy girl; places to go, people to see… you understand, I'm sure."

Manny chuckled and turned his back to her, going back to watching the roads coming in and out of Novac, "Sure thing, beautiful. I'm sure what I know isn't that important in the grand scheme of things, anyway."

Lyra smirked and stood awkwardly behind this man, wondering if whatever info he may have would be worth the caps she'd be spending on supplies, let alone risking her survival. She crossed her arms and shifted her weight to her one leg, "You mentioned Boone… who is he exactly?"

This time Manny didn't even bother to turn around, "He's my buddy, Ex-NCR like me. We both work to keep this town safe. He's up here covering the night shift… usually we switch at around nine at night. I wouldn't bother wasting your charm on him; he doesn't know anything about the guy you're looking for."

"Thanks, Manny… for offering absolutely zero assistance."

Manny barked a laugh and shrugged, "You get what you give, toots."

With an air of finality, Lyra turned and opened the door behind her, absently noting Manny's half-assed wave and growled in frustration once on the other side. Finding out anything from anyone was like pulling teeth and for a fleeting second, she missed the warm way in which the citizens of Goodsprings had treated her. She was foolish to think the general populace of the Mojave would be half as helpful. Lyra decided she would ask this Boone guy about Benny as well; if he and Manny were supposed to be watching the town at all hours, there was at least a fifty-fifty chance he had in fact seen the man come through. She walked down the stairs, stopping at the counter and smiling at Cliff whom she had previously chatted with before approaching Manny.

"Hey Cliff… what kind of ammo supply you have?"

Cliff smiled and reached down under the counter, the rattling of keys telling Lyra he was unlocking the supply that was kept there, "Well, that depends Miss Lyra… what sort of guns are you plannin' on shootin'?" he asked as he placed a large, wooden crate on the counter.

Lyra didn't have much, just the battered nine millimeter she had been given by Doc Mitchell, "Wanna toss me whatever nine millimeter rounds you have… and for that matter, any spare nine-em's you got, too. My gun could stand some repairing..."

Lyra handed over her pile of caps, deciding to pick up a couple Stimpak's for good measure. Her Cap pouch felt considerably lighter and she left the little gift shop, heading for her motel room to begin repairing her gun. If there was one thing from her past she remembered, and well, it was routine weapon maintenance. Once inside her room, Lyra sat down at the small table to the left of her bed, carefully taking apart her nine millimeter and cleaning each part, taking what she needed from the two extra she had picked up off Cliff. It was good therapy and luckily, focusing on the task at hand kept her mind from musing any further about her past. She had a metric fucktonne of questions, and an equally heavy amount of answers required… she decided at this point in time, it wasn't worth the mental strain.

"All things come to those who wait…" She sighed quietly to herself as she left one round in the chamber and slid a new clip home, enjoying the smooth schlick as the slide surged back into place. She gave the weapon one last final wipe down, nodding to herself in satisfaction and tucked it back into the leather holster she had tightly fastened around her right thigh.

Lyra gave a great stretch and meandered over to the washroom, splashing some water on her face before checking out what she could in the broken mirror. Her pale green eyes had circles underneath them and her tousled blonde hair could use some tidying. She hastily smoothed down her hair, making sure her long bangs covered the ragged scar at the top of her forehead. She had decided tonight she would go and speak with this man named Boone and, damn her female inclinations, she wanted to look half presentable. After some preening and the smudging of some Pre-War eyeliner she had luckily scavenged around her eyes, she felt she was as presentable as a Wasteland Wanderer gets. Her leather armor was bulky, though and she opted to remove the top pauldrons and jacket. She unlatched the shoulder pieces and laid them haphazardly on a chair outside the bathroom along with the jacket. Her tank top was black and faded underneath and she decided as soon as she found a place that supplied it, she was doing some much needed wardrobe shopping.

Lyra gave one final glance in the mirror and headed for the door; she still had a few more hours before Boone would be stationed in that retarded dino's mouth… what to do until then? She supposed she hadn't really checked out much of the town yet, at least not what was further North from the Dino Dee-Lite. As she bounced her way down the stairs, she noticed a man in what looked like tan armour and a Ranger hat, entering one of the small cottages across the motel yard. Maybe he knew something about Benny… it was worth a shot, anyway. Shrugging her shoulders, she decided to introduce herself; the man looked like he may be part of the NCR yahoo's that she had bumped into on the way into town. The Ranger station - Charlie, wasn't it? - hadn't been heavily fortified and Lyra wondered if the man was just on leave in Novac. Collecting herself at this man's front door, Lyra shook herself out before politely knocking.

The older, black man answered and he was clearly irritated, "Yeah, what do you want?"

"Hi, I'm Lyra… new to town, just getting myself situated. Sorry to trouble you, but I couldn't help but notice you look like you're part of the Ranger outfit I came across down the road…" Lyra stumbled over her words, caught off-guard by the older man's glare. Maybe this wasn't such a good idea. The man looked over Lyra, clearly evaluating her before he swung his door open wider, beckoning her inside. Lyra couldn't help but notice the severe limp the man had.

"Was part of that outfit… until my leg started giving me some trouble. I'm retired now… Come on in and have a seat," The retired Ranger absently indicated towards an empty chair in one of the corners of his cottage before pulling two beers off his night table, offering Lyra one, "Beer? It's not often I get someone with proper manners at my door… you'll have to excuse me if I'm slightly unprepared."

Lyra gratefully took the beer from the man's grasp, twisted off the cap and clinked her bottle neck against his, taking a timid sip, "Well, if we're going to stay on-topic, I figured proper manners would be telling me your name, mister…?"

The man cocked his eyebrow at her, grinning, "Sassy little thing, huh? Well, pardon my manners, miss. My name's Andy... you can call me Ranger Andy. What brings you to Novac, Miss Lyra?"

Lyra decided to just put it all out on the table, hoping she'd have more luck with this Ranger than Manny, "A man in a checkered suit, actually. Any chance you saw someone like that over the last few days?"

Andy tilted his head to the side, thoughtfully raising a relaxed fist to his chin in contemplation, "I'm sorry Miss but I can't say I have. Does the fellow have a name?"

"Benny."

"Still doesn't ring a bell… I'm sorry ma'am."

"Shit," Lyra cursed under her breath and sighed. Out of most who she'd met so far in the small town, her first choices for information had not yielded much. She had hoped an ex-Ranger would be a little more astute regarding the people coming in and out, but judging by that limp and the disparaging way the man spoke, she figured Ranger Andy didn't get involved with much of anything anymore, "Look… thanks for the beer and I'm sorry to have troubled you, Andy. I'm just trying to put some puzzle pieces together and as of yet, have had very little luck."

Lyra pulled herself out of the chair, gulping down the last dregs of the warm beer before placing it on Andy's coffee table. Just as she was about to say goodbye, Andy spoke up.

"Lyra, I'm sorry I could not be of more help to you… but if I may, could I ask a question in return? I promise to make it worth your while."

"Sounds like more than a question, chief."

Andy chuckled and stood in front of Lyra, "You're right, it's a request. You said you'd come across some Ranger's on your way into town. I'm assuming that was Charlie Station. I like to keep in touch with those boys; my Ranger days may be over, but I like to keep in the know if you know what I mean…"

Lyra nodded.

"The truth is miss, I haven't heard from them all day today. Now, that's not normal and I can't reach through to anyone. If it wouldn't be too much trouble, all I ask is you head down… check things out, make sure those boys are doing ok. Would myself but…" Andy irritably gestured to his legs.

Lyra felt a tug at her heart and sighed. The station was literally down the road and she did have time to kill, "Alright, that's no problem Andy. I'll come by as soon as I get back. When I was there last they seemed fine… hopefully it's just a radio issue."

"You and me both, girl."

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