Chapter One: Unbound

Leon awoke to the most painful sensation he had ever known originating from his right butt cheek. He screamed an ear-shattering yell, to where the citizens outside heard it and swerved away from the good doctor Garrett's office.

"Oh shut it you big baby." Doctor Garrett started, finally digging the shrapnel out of the young man's buttocks, putting it on a sterile tray that was full of bits of metal. Leon rested his head against the pillow he had been provided on the operating table. It looked to have been coated in a thin layer of drool in some spots.

"You're lucky you passed out for me digging the bit that lanced your leg, now that made me wince, and I'm a doctor!" The doctor continued.

"I hate you Sara."

"That any way to treat the doctor patching your ass up." A small laugh, "Literally."

"That any way to talk to a patient Sara? You are literally the biggest pain in my ass right now-"A stream of obscenities followed as she pulled a sliver of tin out from his calf, it was long too, must've been at least five inches.

"Must've brushed up against some nerves." Doctor Sara Garret smiled. "Are you... crying?"

"No, I drool in my sleep." Leon trying too keep his face in his saliva stained pillow, Hell yes I'm crying! "You didn't give me Med-x did you?"

"Why would I do that after you didn't pay your tab for the last time you visited." A pause to stitch up a small laceration. "That was fun too, remember? You got so drunk you jumped off old man Wilkin's roof. I had a lot of fun watching you walk around in that splint." She paused "So what trouble did you two get into this time?"

Leon took a moment to format his response, deciding to keep it short and sweet, "Mutant with a missile launcher. Took us by surprise. Rhoke saved my ass back there. How's he doin anyway?" Taking that route to dodge the conversation. The doctor gave out a sigh.

"The poor thing got a nasty face scar from whatever the hell lodged in there. It got infected but I cleaned it before it got serious. but I had to cut away some tissue as well. He was awake for most of the procedure and didn't scream once. I don't think he could even feel it. He passed before I cauterized the cut with a blow torch, but hes fine now. Poor guy deserves better from his brother." She had flooded a small cut with rubbing alcohol, adding painful emphasis to the good doctor's words.

A string of curses followed by a mumbled 'got it' put the doctor in a good mood. She slowly but surely sewed up the holes she had put in his clothes to get access to his wounds. Each one was dressed properly and he should be at 100% in about a week. He was promptly informed of this.

"I'd tell you to sit up but that would hurt. If you really wanted to, use the pillow you drooled on and sit on that, I'll let you keep it free of charge as well."

Leon took the suggestion, situating himself so that the bandages concealed by his outfit did not come loose in any way. Garrett knew her field.

"How about Rhoke, what time span are we looking at?"

"Face wound aside, he'll be good in about three days actually. Most of his wounds don't mess with the way he operates daily, but I want him to come in every day, gotta make sure he keeps his face pretty. If an infection takes hold that close to the major blood vessels and his brain, it could be fatal." The words brought a chill along Leon's spine.

"I'm keeping him under until the swelling goes down around his eyes, so you've got a few hours before he wakes up. When he does, make sure he doesn't try too many facial expressions, the skin might split and bleed again."

Like that'll be hard. Leon got up off the operating table slowly, "Good to know, I've got some business with the NCR ranger that sent us out there in the first place. But before I go, I need to know how much our bill is here."

Sara put a finger up to her chin and mentally calculated. "200 Caps for each of you. The operation and supplies cost a little over that, but whats a discount between childhood friends?"

"I can handle that as soon as I get my payment from the ranger."

"Good, I want you back here by noon, that gives you four hours."

Plenty of time. Leon waved to her as he left, testing his cut-up leg to find it could support normal walking more easily then it did sitting.

He left the doctor's office of the town of Ira and looked around his hometown. A group of small children playing in the street, an NCR patrol passing along a package of cigarettes with the locals, talking about daily events. A Brahman loaded with water followed its trader, offering drinks for low prices. Its been this peaceful for as long as Leon can remember, with the occasional raider party trying to work its way past the wall, but failing after a day or two. The entire town was surrounded by a wall was an essential barrier made of pre-war vehicles, sheet metal, and as much fence as they could find, and then what they were able to make. They even had large metal gates that worked, ensuring no weakness in the town's entrances and exits. The NCR's presence made life that much easier, allowing the town militia to do other things, such as guard trade caravans or perhaps specialize in trades. Like how Rhoke was one of the few who worked the ammo press. All of this success was possible due to the large amount of vehicles that were on interstate when the bombs went off. An immense amount of scrap metal for years to come.

The NCR got a large amount of its ammunition from Ira, however a Gun Runner vendor or even a trader couldn't be supported in Ira. People here had no need of massive firearms, the local traders still did business with hunters and trappers, but the majority of the gun trade went up in smoke when the NCR took up post as guardian of this town. The odd giant radscorpion offer the biggest threats out here.

Leon started down the street, towards the bar where he first met his contact, ranger Leroy. He either didn't give his last name or didn't have one. Words and caps were to be exchanged, mostly caps if Leon played his cards right. Coming up to one of the two bars in town, the sign read; The Port in the Storm. Walking inside, Leon was assailed with the familiar smells of cigarettes and booze. Plenty of locals and NCR folk mingling, some more then others as he saw a soldier getting sweet with a local girl. Leon took a seat at the bar, deciding to put down a pillow before he sat, adding relief to his aching bottom. He had taken the pillow from good Doctor Sara's office per her recommendation and was now trying to not look like a small child being propped up to drink sarsaparilla at the bar like the grown ups.

"Hey bartend! Get me some of that famous Rum and Nuka you've been hosting all these years!."

"Hey Leo! Didn't think you'd make it back alive!" Came a deep reply from across the bar, the man behind the counter was a wizened old bear with a thick beard and male pattern baldness that everyone called 'Bull'. Bull had plenty of war decorations across his body such as the shotgun pellet marks that dotted the flesh on the left side of his face and claimed that eye, and the Yao Guai teeth marks on his left forearm, or the two bullet holes in his right shoulder he got back when the militia was in charge of security, after his two tours of duty with the NCR anyway. He owned the establishment and ran it with a gentle fist. He'd sometimes entertain the kids about the more frivolous adventures into the wastes, saving the good and bloody stories on the people that would truly admire them like NCR officers and experienced prospectors. Leon could now believe himself to be one of those guys.

Bull slid over a generous helping of Rum and Nuka, and pulled up a stool that sat opposite of the counter. "Its on the house if you tell me yah story, how'd it go?" He was fully aware of the ranger's commission as well. A good barkeep kept his ears to the ground.

"Well, you were right, I pissed my pants." Leon began. A drink of the alcoholic beverage followed while the barkeep laughed a hearty laugh.

"Everyone's gotta start somewhere laddie!" He began, "At least you started close to home! Heard your brother got in bit of a scrape with a mutie as well, is he holdin up well?"

"Oh yeah Rhoke'll be fine, he got a hell of a mark across his face though, but if anything it reflects his 'strong silent' personality." Another fit of laughter from Bull.

"Lemme start at the beginning...


"Two mutants watching in the front, armed with rifles, one on the right side of the building with a sledgehammer." Rhoke reported in from circling the building, moving up to where Leon was prone in the ground. Afternoon light was pounding onto the duo as they made plans.

"We'll have to move up to kill the riflemen, but I don't want to alert the one with the sledge either."

"How about we split up then." Rhoke started, "I'll take the .32 hunting rifle and pick off the sledgehammer mutant from the right, and while that draws the attention of the guards up from, you use these." Giving Leon three grenades, "To blow those fuckers straight to hell."

"How'd you sneak grenades out the town armory?" Leon was surprised, "They keep tabs on all their stock except the older stuff, they certainly keep tabs on the explosives. They'll know we stole this if don't put these back. We're risking enough with the rifle."

"I may have gone in and edited the stock shipment a little bit... They won't miss three grenades. Saw some interesting stuff in there as well, remind me to tell you about it later."

"I could kiss you, you know that? We may actually be able to pull this off!" His elation was masked by the picking up of the wind.

"Yeah, yeah, lets just get this over with." He looked Leon in the eyes, "Please don't fuck this up. I won't live to chastise you if you do." And moved off in a lazy circle to the right.

Quickly moving into position, Rhoke waited until the mutant to the right side of the building appeared as off guard as he would get, and opened fire. The round caught the mutant in the top of the head, painting the wall with blood and brain, it fell over sideways, the remainder of its brain and lifeblood spraying violently from the wound. Rhoke couldn't open fire on the other two mutants until they crossed into his visibility. The two at the front door shouldered their weapons and cautiously stopped around the edge of the building after hearing the shot ring out. They were trying to play it smart, but Leon already had them flanked. Twenty meters away, hidden by a sandy dune he tossed a grenade over the side with as much aimed precision as he could muster, landing it between the two. A yell followed by an explosion, the mutant in front, not realizing that there was a grenade behind him, had his legs vanish underneath him, and was propelled forward in a comical fashion with blood spiraling behind into Rhoke's field of vision. Leon peeked over the dune to see that the second mutant had survived and was now running for cover on the side of the building Rhoke was on.

Rhoke thought the second one was dead, and had unfortunately left his prone position and started to walk back around when the mutant sighted him and opened fire. The round went wide, but startled Rhoke, who jumped backward down the dune to avoid any other shots. Leon brought out the 9mm pistol he got off a local trader and emptied an entire clip in the general area of the mutant, half of the shots connected, but the mutant rushed Rhoke's position anyway, trying to not loose sight of its prey. Cursing, Leon put in a second magazine and tried to aim more carefully now, the mutant cresting the dune Rhoke was behind. A shot caught the mutant in the neck, another in the temple, and it screamed in a bloody rage as the small caliber round pissed it off. Rhoke's rifle flashed as it fired two more shots into its chest before the mutant had crossed over the dune, crossing the threshold of sand wielding its rifle like a club and a sickening split was heard out of Leon's sight as he saw the mutant lower the club.

Fearing the worst, Leon charged the mutant, unloading one, two, three full clips at it as he moved to the dune. It staggered under the small caliber onslaught, and finally keeled over and died, sliding upon the sand. Rhoke poked his head up over the hill, only a little bit shaken, but okay. He held up his rifle, or rather, two parts of his rifle. He had used it as a shield when the mutant tried to bludgeon him.

"Sorry Leon, we're not getting the rifle back."

"Fuck it, it wasn't worth your life anyway. Maybe you could use his?"

The rifle stock was shattered and the trigger gone from the blow.

"What about the mutant I blew up?"

The rifle was blown up with it upon further investigation.

"Take the ammo, we're gonna need it. No use pouting about the rifles." Leon said. "You didn't piss your pants yet right?" Rhoke shook his head, No and screw you was written on his face. He had forgotten about scrounging the mutant's for ammo due to Leon's remark.

Rhoke and Leo met at the side door, pistols at the ready after much encouraging talk and readying of grenades.

"You ready for this?" Rhoke whispered, a curt nod from Leon was his answer.

The door swung open and...


"Then I woke up on the surgery table, having Sara dissect my ass for-"

"You can stop there!" Bull said between laughs, "Was a damn good story Leo, gonna put that one down in the books."

As soon as it was said the bar door swung open and a NCR ranger walked in, the cowboy outfit, repeater, and hat giving him the impression of authority. Everyone had met a ranger before in town, some friendly, some not so much. They were like the oddballs of the NCR, but better trained. You just take the personalities in full swing with it.

"Leroy! Good to have ya, will it be the usual?"

"You betcha!" Came his overly cheerful reply, sandy haired man with a mustache and young, full face started forward to meet them.

"Leroy, good buddy!" Leon directed his attention to the seat next to him. "Come on down, we got business to discuss."

The young ranger sat down, a plate of Brahman steak and a bottle of whiskey slid from one side of the bar to Leroy's sitting area. Bull certainly knew his trade.

"So, you got the blueprints?" Straight to business. The ranger was obviously new to this commission business, sipping at the whiskey.

"We did, and now we must discuss payment..." Leon would try and bleed as much as he could out of this guy.

"Does the original thousand caps sound good to you?" Way too easy, it was even in the form of a question.

"Hell no." Came the reply almost immediately. A scowl was painted on Leon's face, a rare sight, "I wouldn't have accepted it had I known that the super mutants had missile launchers and miniguns, and now we've got medical bills to pay too because we didn't have the firepower to deal with the monsters. I want four thousand caps or the schematic sees a new buyer."

"Whoa whoa whoa, slow down Leo, I know it was a bit more dangerous then I made it out to be, but certainly it wasn't that bad?"

"My brother looks like hell, medical bills alone aren't going to cut it for him. I get the best for my brother, and he needs cosmetic surgery or he'll never be looked at the same." Rhoke wouldn't go for cosmetic surgery unless it would save his life. He is a man of efficiency, not looks.

"Thats just bullshit, hes still alive, he'll be happy with a thousand caps." The ranger was trying to call his bluff.

"You mean so he can afford to give his sweet one a gift? It'll be pretty hard for anyone to accept him now that his face is ripped in half." Okay that was a stretch of the truth but the half-lie was a victim-less crime.

"In.. half! No fuckin.. I heard the mutants did bad things to people but... Oh shit I'm so sorry... I can give you two-thousand, five hundred caps, tops, just... go pick it up out of the comm station north of town..."

"Will do." Leon replied, handing over the power armor schematic. "Hope to see you again Leroy!" The ranger simply staggered out, thinking of the life he had ruined because he was to afraid to take on some super mutants. Bull watched him go, Damn rookie just learned to follow through with his work.

Leroy hadn't touched his steak, and Leon slid his plate over and started digging into it. It was on the ranger's tab anyway and you never turned down a free meal. Bull ignored this.

Once that dirty deed was done, Leon said his goodbyes to Bull, and contemplated what he had just done. He played the ranger's good natured self like a fool and felt a little guilty for it. Not extremely guilty, but enough to make him second guess his actions.

His father left him with a three thousand cap debt to the second bar across town, a much more seedier place known as: The Mighthouse. The owner thought it was witty. Leon walked to the NCR station to the north, the sun doing its usual thing and creating heatwave after heatwave. Corporal Peterson was on a communication terminal, making idle chatter with someone on the other line.

"C'mon Lacy, why ya gotta treat me like dis?"

"Because you're a womanizing asshole Peterson" came the tinny reply from the setup.

"Dats not true, you know I treat you good!"

"Bullshit! You made me waste my entire leave just waiting for your ass at the Mojave Outpost! I get those once a year you dick! I wanted to visit New Vegas!"

"Hate to interrupt the romantic conversation" Leon cut in, "But I'm lookin for my commission from ranger Leroy."

"Bag with your name on it, third door to the left, ask Jennings." Came Peterson's reply

"Oh and who the hell is Jennings? Harvey? You'd better answer me!"

This ramshackle building was considerably nicer then the last time I walked through it, Leon decided. He rounded the third door to his left, coming across a brunette female NCR soldier doing desk work, hands moving over a computer keyboard and a helmet sitting on the desk corner.

Without looking up, she started the conversation. "You the Durant boy commissioned by Leroy?"

"Yeah-"

"Here." She paused to reach under her desk and threw a bag of caps at him, he caught it as it rebounded off his chest. "Now please leave, I don't need any more interruptions."

Well that was pleasant. Leon walked back, past Peterson having an argument with whats-er-face over the radio and back into the blistering sun. That brunnette reminded me of Rhoke, maybe they'd be a good pairing...

Putting the bag of caps into his backpack, he continued onward until he met a street vendor that had been up for a few years and knew him well.

"Hey Wally, got some nice things for ya."

The street vendor named Wally Brumbagger was enthralled in a magazine, something about guns that started with a M. "Mhm, sure you do. Find a three headed Brahman? People'll pay out the wazoo for Brahman head these days. God knows why."

"Better" Leon set down the four 40mm, six boxes with twenty-four 5.56mm rounds each and his old 9mm pistol.

The trader looked up, and immediately dropped his magazine to gauge the quality of the ammunition. "This is good shit son, the ammo presses would take six hours of work to come up with the 5.56. And 40mm is in short supply this side of Mojave outpost." Wally knew his shit, "Your gun is in crap condition but I'll take that anyway. And your total comes out to; four hundred and thirty two for the 5.56, twenty-eight for the crap pop shooter, and forty for the grenade rounds."

"You know as well as I do that the grenades are worth more then that, bump it to 60." But Leon knew his way with words. A scratch on the head from of the older gentlemen in the pale, old hooded shirt.

"Deal." and handed over a mix of caps and NCR paper money. Leon decided to see if Wally had anything interesting in stock whist he seemed to be getting all this spare cash. He spotted a rifle on the back wall that looked promising. He pointed to the rifle with a dramatic stance complete with a finger.

"How much for the rifle?"

Wally looked up at it, his attention was just getting back into the magazine.

"Thats a .308 caliber hunting rifle, its a beautiful piece of weaponry, can get through most helmets in one shot. Its in shit condition though. I'll give it to ya for three-fifty."

A hell of a deal. "I'll take it." Wally got up and tossed the rifle to Leon in a very uncaring manner. "You'll want a gunsmith to take a look at it before you fire though, that bolt is so old n' worn, the thing'll explode in your face and take an eye to its grave." Leon simply nodded, leaving the desired amount on the table as he walked away, prize in hand.

It an hour past noon, not realizing how much time he burnt at Bull's Bar, he made his way back to the clinic.

Upon entering the white washed structure, he found Rhoke sitting in a chair against the wall in the waiting room, looking into a hand mirror and poking at the edges of his new scar. The red sinewy flesh poked out slightly from his face, the outlying skin actually a darker shade, ragged and torn at odd angles where burnt flesh was cut away, giving it the look of an explosion in a pre-war comic book. A deathclaw slash would've been a cleaner cut. Then again, it would cleave his head in half as well. He didn't seem extremely worried about it, but it was something he would have to get used to.

"You know they say chicks dig scars and shrapnel." Leon broke his contemplating mood, "You've got both now, so you don't have any excuses for not getting laid before twenty."

Rhoke set the mirror down in an adjacent seat and a small grin broke out along his face, he was used to Leon trying to embarrass him, and learned how to turn it full circle if he needed to.

"You mean get me laid before I hit your age as a way to make up for you still being a virgin?" Oh that was a low blow.

"Damn that stings man, why ya gotta bring that up?" He dug the pillow out from his backpack, laid it on the seat next to Rhoke, and slowly n' carefully sat down.

"That pillow for your ass?"

"Yes." Rhoke burst into a fit of laughter, it was a rarity for him but he could light up a room with his voice. Slowing down considerably, the skin on his face being pulled taunt, he noticed the rifle that Leon was carrying with him.

"That for your ass as well?" He said, keeping as straight a face as he could. He was failing.

"No, its for yours!" Leon punched Rhoke in the shoulder, the two broke out into a laughing fit. After a few minutes of this, the two calmed down. Rhoke started the conversation up again.

"Did you meet up with Leroy?"

"Yep."

"Wha'd he say he pay us again?"

"A thousand caps." Rhoke squinted at his brother.

"How much did you guilt out of him?"

"What?" Leon tried to keep his poker face going. "What makes you think I'd guilt the good ranger of... Two thousand, five hundred caps." The look on Rhoke's face was priceless. And probably painful as he didn't hold it long.

"Two thousand alone is enough to make us free men! I thought we'd have to go out there again and get killed!"

"I know! Scored some extra from Wally as well, for all that 5.56, and we still have the three hundred saved up at home."

"Lets get the debt paid off first, to make it official!" The two brothers were now grinning ear to ear, shoulder to shoulder, arm around arm, all smiling grins and what-not, the shorter one not caring about his face anymore. A thought interrupted Leon. He dropped a bag full of caps on the clerks desk. Making sure it was above 600 caps.

"Get this to the good doctor, and make sure she buys herself something nice." The two left singing into the street, headed to the southwestern part of town to cash in an honest claim to start an honest life.


The Mighthouse. You can feel your brain cells die every time you say it. Rhoke thought in disgust. The two had stopped by their apartment they had shared for two months when their father died. They had sold the house to make payments on the debt. Rhoke dropping off his duffel that still contained the looted mini gun from their escapades, and also got a 'clean' white shirt. He had taped up his hands in preparation for this meeting, and his forearms to keep the bandages secure. Leon had deposited the rifle in a wardrobe closet next to the door, and went over to his room to get his butterfly knife and other assorted goods.

It always ended with the two brothers getting beat on with the various bouncers and vagrants, all thanks the the 'suave' man in charge who thought it served a good reminder to the debt they owed. A short ominous man that insisted on wearing business wear everywhere by the name of Frank Evergreen. He was a rude asshole who cared more about money then people, there was word passed around that he had anyone who got on his bad side was dealt with painfully. Many accounts of assault and battery, and a murder or two, but he knew the system well enough to weasel his way around it.

The sun was starting to hide behind the wasteland when the brothers appeared walking down the road from the club. The two had been forced to put on tough guy facades once the visits started happening. Two months of harassment and backstabbing had taught each of them to never yield an inch to this slime.

The original debt Leon had inherited from his father was originally a staggering three-thousand caps. Rhoke and Leon were to busy mourning the death of Eval Durant, his father to pay any attention to that. He was the one-and-only local vendor for weapons for the longest time until the NCR showed up around ten years ago to take over town security. He lived life well, his business flourished for another year with his partner who'd help set him up with the starting cash, Frank Evergreen. But the need for guns started to decline. Eval and Frank suddenly saw that the cost of living was going to catch up with the fortunes that had stopped growing. Franks quickly invested his cut of the business into The Mighthouse, and that was supposed to be the end of the partership.

But Evergreen was a stingy bastard, who called out Eval to pay up his starter's fee and interest. Ignoring this, Eval continued to run his stall for another two years unsuccessfully, fueled on hope until a rude orphan accidentally burnt it down to keep himself warm during a desert night. This little bundle of piss n' vinegar was known as Leon. Nobody knows what drove Eval to adopt the child that was left behind after a caravan train forgot him, but the relationship grew into a true father and son bond. The stuff of stereotypical pre-war novels.

Frank Evergreen, on the other hand, was enraged, doubling the debt and tacking on another thousand caps for lost properties in the fire. A five-thousand cap debt to somebody that was starting his own underground rule of the town of Ira was a bad position to be in. Eval simply didn't have the stamina or the endurance to be a caravan guard. He tried working the ammo presses but the unhealthy conditions of the factory in the middle of town cost him a few years of his life and two fingers. Nobody needed his skills. He was washed up.

He started drinking, the only comforting way out of his debt that he tried working off and failed. Four years had passed and only twenty percent of the debt had been paid when an uproar across the street started at the Griddly's home for the fourth time in a week. None of the houses were here originally, and the tin plated assortment of trailers did little to lessen the arguments in the Griddly family home. A shot rang out across the streets, breaking the argument and starting a barrage of shouts and screams followed by many more shots. The murder of Rhoke's father had occurred this night. Screams of children as the now-second oldest of the household fled into the streets.

The NCR got a hold of the boy in the morning, and held him for a day while his father was buried. He was an angry drunk that beat all four of his children, nobody mourned him. The oldest son of the household, named Duke, kicked Rhoke out afterward because he couldn't feed all four of them being a caravan guard. It made sense to the public and the other siblings of the Griddly household. The teenager wandered the streets until his older friend Leon brought him into his home out of pity. Eval immediately recognized the teen's potential as a worker and adopted him as well, having Rhoke work the ammo presses more efficiently then any grown man could.

The bond between those two slowly grew over three years, paying off another five hundred caps to Frank. Eval certainly didn't lead by example, but he taught the boys the value of hard and honest work, and taught each one of his boys the trade. Rhoke was taught how to use the tools of the trade, from effective usage to maintenance. This in turn, taught Rhoke the value of things that worked correctly. Leon learned the trade of the tools, his charisma had him bartering with the best of them. Both of them learned how to became alcoholics as well...

Two months ago, the Durant family home was happy. Two months ago, the Durant family home was burnt down 'accidentally'. The two brothers were out at The Port in the Storm for a late night of living life to its fullest, when a bystander rushed in, saying there was a fire down the road and that everyone needed to grab a bucket of dirt. The two rushed outside with the crowd that came to help and bore witness to their entire home in flames. Eval was found dead on his mattress from smoke inhalation the fire hadn't gotten as far as the kitchen. After a proper burial, the two set out immediately to look into what caused this, none of it made sense, how could a fire start in a house made of metal?

Further investigation revealed broken glass, Eval always gave empty bottles to the water merchants for small change, "it would be a waste of caps not to." he would say, putting any and all bottles in a crate next to the couch in the living room. He never drank in the kitchen.

Someone had killed their father, but before any further investigation could be made, the two were jumped by Frank's goons outside the apartment they had rented the first week after Eval's death and the selling of the family home.

A note was left after the two had woken up, bloodied and bruised; The three thousand cap debt held by Eval Durant is hereby passed on to his eldest son, Leon. Should the eldest son die, it will be passed on to the next son in line, Rhoke. Failure to come up with any payment to Frank Evergreen, owner of The Mighthouse, at least once a week will result in violent retrieval of any and all possessions of value. Have a good day gentlemen.

~Evergreen

That smug fucker.


The two were now at the entrance of the bar the latest music could be blaring along to flashing strobe lights that peek from the cracks in makeshift walls. A large sign displaying that horrible title in neon was present. Three bouncers were checking each of the people that entered for weapons, It was getting dark out, and the reckoning of the Durant family freedom was at hand. Leon was first up. The first bouncer he ran into recognized cold demeanor he showed them any time he approached the club.

"Okay Leo, we go through this every time, just go ahead and hand over everything now." The female at the door stated. They've been through this before, gotten in fist fights, knife fights, and one time made out. Leon certainly wouldn't have minded going out with the piece of work known as 'Cutter Grace', but she said she had higher standards, 'perhaps when you matured a little, or maybe grew some hair on that chin of yours', made him drop that aspiration in a hurry. Another female bouncer, obviously new, was watching as well with awe-set eyes. He didn't know her, better put on a good act for the newbie. The third, a bald tank of a man named Mark, was focused on the crowd of people ahead of him. His eyes were mostly meeting Rhoke's and looking away quickly. This was commonplace. The brothers had done this more then a dozen times.

Leon handed over his 10mm pistol, took off his right boot to retrieve a pen knife, pulled a set of brass knuckles out from his vest, three throwing knives from the hidden brace on the inside of his jeans, and a kitchen knife tucked away up his left sleeve. Half of these things he didn't know how to use in a fight or even wanted to, it was mostly for show. The new bouncer's eyes widened at this list of weapons she scribbled down.

"Good boy, Rhoke with you?" She changed the subject, and Leon gave himself a small smile. They didn't check him for his butterfly knife he had tucked away in a more unpleasant place. Mark was going through his backpack. He had taken out everything except a pillow and the bag of caps in there, Mike didn't touch that package, he knew better.

"Yeah, tell him I'll catch him at the bar." Leon walked away, the new bouncer watching him go, noticing that he walked like he had a stick up his ass, but kept quiet anyway. She wasn't supposed to be gawking at every piece of eye candy she saw, she'd get the boot. Grace didn't like working with the easily distracted.

Rhoke came up next out of the darkness, The head bouncer's eyes widened when she saw his new scar that was cloaked until now. He stopped a foot from her, arms crossed, a stance you could find Rhoke in most hours of the day. This also showed off the nicks and scratches along his forearms, a patchwork of bandages ending in the boxing tape he had wrapped his hands in.

"Damn Rhoke, you look like shit... Any weapons?"

"No, but you're gonna search me anyway because thats your job."

Grace motioned for Mark to search the young man, his gorilla-like hands patting down his sides for weapons half-heartedly, he knew he wasn't gonna find anything. Rhoke never walked in here armed. Mark stopped searching, his hands on the others shoulders and made eye contact again, this time for a full thirty seconds. He met those steel-gray eyes, searching for anything to give away his true intentions they met back, boring a hole into his eye sockets. A clearing of the throat from Grace interrupted his thoughts, and he stood back up, blinking.

"Hes clean, but this one doesn't need weapons do damage." His heavyset voice reverberating of its own accord.

"We know this Mark, remember the last time we did this? He knocked out one of your teeth?" He lifted a hand to his mouth where he was missing a molar. "I swear we shouldn't let you boys in here. Why the boss wants to meet you personally I'll never know." The line behind Rhoke was starting to get restless, the complaints audible. Grace motioned him to move forward.

Rhoke started to walk past, "Must be my charming personality." He kept a straight face as he said it.

She shouted after him, "Your brother okay too? I saw he walked in as perky as a pre-teen in a stripclub."

He turned to her, walking backwards and cupping his hands around his mouth to make sure everyone near the door heard him, "Ass shrapnel does that to people!"

Grace smiled to herself as she turned back to the line she was guarding, You want to get rid of the brothers? Lock them in a room together, they'll destroy each other quicker then any force in the Western Wasteland.


"Hey Whitley! Your useless boss get here yet?" Leon was addressing the lady behind the counter. When you visit a place like this on business enough, you learned to get friendly with the people and how to push their buttons as well. Whitley was a middle-aged woman with a thin physique and curly blond hair that made most think she was twenty five at best. An important person to have on your side in these fights since she had access to the shotgun behind the counter.

She absolutely hated Evergreen, and got the job as his barmaid just so she could spit in his drinks. At least that's what she told Leon. He found that the quickest way to get to Whitley's good side was to actually be himself. Least me n' Rhoke aren't the only ones who hate Frank. This'll probably be the last day I ever set foot in here though. I'll be sure to go out with a bang.

Whitley had finally moved down, wiping down a glass that had been recently used. "That useless ham? He said he'd be back in an hour. Caught a rumor that someone got their fingers in the armory earlier today." She turned her back to him, putting the glass on the counter and digging out the usual Rum and Nuka for Leon. A glass of vodka was already laid out for Rhoke, she knew the brothers well. "Don't know what he'd have in the armory, but I guess it was enough to give him a bit of a panic."

The disgruntled barmaid turned her attention to Leon's even more unusual height. "You're already almost seven feet tall Leo, you didn't need to bring a booster seat."

"Oh that," Leon pretended to pay the pillow he was sitting on no heed. "Last job got me n' Rhoke rich overnight. Seeing as how my rear has been kicked out enough to cause permanent damage, I figured my ass deserves to be in the lap of luxury for once."

"Right." Whitley had turned to Rhoke, who was sitting to Leon's left. Leon hadn't noticed him and jumped in his seat a bit. Rhoke was very good at startling people when he wanted to.

"You okay Rhoke? You look like shit."

A deep swig of the drink on the counter, "I feel better then I look." was his neutral reply.

Half an hour passed with the brothers making idle chatter, the two keeping a lookout to see when Frank would arrive. He still hadn't shown up yet. And the Durants grew tired of sitting around with the flashing strobe lights of different colors decorated the dance floor, the music giving off an unsettling beat, and the drunk people being thrown out and let in by the bouncers occupying the doorway. It was a tune they knew all to well.

"Be back in a bit, gotta take a leak." Leon disembarked from his stool and approached the men's room. He situated himself in front of a urinal until he was sure nobody was a round, and dug the butterfly knife out from the back end of his underwear. If he had gone immediately to the restroom, Grace would've put two and two together real quick.

He had done this trick before successfully, but she knew he always had a weapon on him ever since the first time he came in without one. He always came prepared after that bit. He never wanted to pay such a medical bill for a beating again. It didn't feel to pleasant either, but the hit in his wallet weighed on his mind since this debt was instilled to him.

He washed his hands and the large knife in the sink with soap. He couldn't remember the last time he had a bath. Splashing some of the water to his face, he dried off with a complimentary towel hanging beside the door.

Returning to the bar, Rhoke was leaning against the counter, and stopped him from sitting down. "He has arrived." Was given with a quick look of understanding.

The two started towards the back area in the far corner of the bar, Leon giving a good wave and a wink to Whitley. Rhoke continued next to him, talking under his breath, just within his brother's range of hearing.

"Somethings up with Frank, dunno what though. He had a bunch of bandages around his neck and spine area if that means anything to you."

"Nope, not a clue there, looks like I'll have to weasel some info out of Frank."

The two went traveled down a hallway, three doors, all on the left with appropriate labels were passed. Kitchen, Storage, and finally, Management. Two halves of a bed sheet had been put up in place of a door. They broke the last three that had been put up. The first with Leon's body, the second Rhoke had to break down, the final was by a goon Rhoke and Leon had pushed through the door.

Walking through, exchanging a final glance between each other with an air of confidence, the two faced down Frank Evergreen.

As usual, the man was seated on a fancy looking metal chair upon a medal pedestal, looking bored in his large and empty room with three guards flanking him on either side. It started at two, then upgraded by two every time the Durant boys managed to walk out of their own willpower. This was strange, this rule of thumb demanded there be twelve this time, yet here were only six of these fearsome looking men built for brawls. Frank also got rid of the wooden chair he sat on last meeting. Like the rest of the furniture before it, it broke to easily.

The two presented themselves in front of the short bastard with a shaved head and cleft chin. This stupid prick would sell his mother for another inch in height I'll bet. Leon thought silently to himself. I'm gonna shove this fucker's jaw into his eye sockets. Was a much more sadistic thought from Rhoke.

"Boys! Its good to see you two! Well, at least you Leo, your brother doesn't look like much of a poster boy anymore now does he?" His eyes lit up like a child receiving a gift because he begged hard enough for it. "You brought this week's penance early then?" He started rubbing his hands together like the generic money-hungry slob.

Rhoke felt a vicegrip on his shoulder hold him back from starting the traditional brawl then and there. "I told you to call me Leon." He reached over his shoulder into his unzipped backpack, the guards starting towards him in case he may be pulling out a weapon. Again.

A large sackful of caps appeared in Leon's hand, holding it at the top and shaking it to give off the audible cling bottle caps made when stored together.

"That looks like more then your usual pay. What surprises did you cook for us today?" Frank noted, signaling his nearest guard on his left, a ripped man who carried a brown crew cut and sunglasses upon his head. He took the bag, and started checking the contents.

"Whats in it?" The short man was craning out of his seat, trying to catch a glimpse of his goon shuffling around in the bag slowly. He was used to the brother's tricks at this point, they'd put tacks in the bag the first time, when Frank himself checked the contents, raking cuts covered his hands in his hasty greed and a few of them scarred. From then on he had his goons check the bags, which always had other nasty things in there following that first visit. These things ranged from broken glass, empty syringes, and exposed copper wire that was connected to a fission battery. One time a rope had been tied around the bag, and pulling the knot out lit some sort of firework that had struck the boss in the face. Another time Leon simply threw the bag to Frank and Rhoke pulled out a C4 detonator. Of course the two couldn't afford plastic explosive but nobody opposed the Durants as they walked out that time.

Another time Rhoke set down the bag, slap the top and retreated to the far end of the room where Leon was already waiting. Every time someone got near the bag it sounded like a frag mine was arming itself to go off. It turned out to be a proximity sensor hooked up to a frag mine klaxon, but it was damned clever. The last time they cashed in the bag caught fire after it traded hands. These medical bills were beginning to get outrageous. Frank almost wanted to add them to the debt but that might drive one of them over the edge.

The fact that nothing was in the bag worried Frank as the hired help shrugged. He had been expecting the same thing as well. Thats why he took his time. Had they run out of tricks? It was an exceptionally large bag. It was put into his lap as the guard returned to his post and Frank pushed over the waves of caps. It was the truth.

"No more tricks, no more lies, no more debt." Leon stated, attracting the attention of the aspiring crime lord. "In that bag is the exact amount we owe you." A knot had started forming in his stomach. Something seemed off about the walls.

"Well well! This is good news!" Two thousand caps, like this day could get any better! "I didn't expect to see this day so soon. You boys made more in two months then that useless man Eval could ever hope to acquire!" He laughed a cackling laugh. Rage started piling up between the brothers, the vicegrip was starting to loosen on Rhoke's shoulder as he shifted his butterfly knife in that sleeve closer towards his hand. It was almost show time.

"I'm proud of you boys." Evergreen continued, "You've started down the road to becoming great entrepreneurs!"

"We don't want to be associated with you anymore dickhead." Leon said calmly, "We settled our debt with you because we're honest men, and we did it without having to become a corrupt fat fuck like you." Leon gave himself a self-satisfied smirk. Rhoke was still a loose cannon ready to be set off.

Franks grin faded into a scowl. "Somehow I knew this day was today." The walls to each side and behind the brothers slid over to reveal four men in each space, a bouncer suit on each of them. Sunglasses dotted some, hats on others. Eached was armed with either a plank of wood, some sort of knife, or brass knuckles. "I prepared for it. I wanted to be sure you left with at least one reminder to your service to me!" He started laughing like a maniac as the guards filed out of their squat hideaways. "Give these boys a proper greeting into adulthood!"

Like a well rehearsed play, the brothers Durant sprang into action. Being in this situation over twenty times before had trained the two exceptionally at fighting bad odds. The most important rule they followed was to not kill anyone. Murder made you a wanted man. The NCR frowned on that sort of thing. It was okay though, the amount of pain most of them would experience in a moment would certainly act as a fighting deterrent.

Leon snapped his hand away from Rhoke's shoulder, his middle finger catching the edge of his butterfly knife and popping it from its built-in casing. Catching it in mid air, blade down, and turning around in one smooth motion, the nearest brute had already started a right hook aimed for his face, and used his circular motion to slide just out of his range. Leon brought down the butterfly knife, sinking all six inches of blade into the man's shoulder, and quickly pulling out at a different angle. These guys were not professionals, and a critical enough injury could make them useless in the fight. Rhoke had literally jumped at the nearest guard, a shaggy-haired brute whose face was distorted to comical proportions as the momentum of his leap transferred into the man's face, his body followed the force into the two goons behind him and bowled the group over. A gorilla of a henchmen jumped onto Rhoke's back. He regretted the decision as soon as it was made when the six foot man started running backwards at an alarming rate, four of the thugs waiting to get a shot at Leon suddenly had one of their own knocking them over.

A very large expulsion of breath was heard as the man slammed against the wall. The length of his spine snapping straight up with the flat surface all the way to the base of his head, rendering him unconscious. A large bouncer had followed Rhoke and tried to get his arms around him in a massive bear hug. A punch to his gut followed by an uppercut yielded no results, only pain.

Leon cut a man along the length of his ribcage who had rushed him and missed a tackle. A plank of wood hit Leon in the back of the knee, making him drop onto that limb. He glimpsed up just in time to see the serrated knife come down across his face, bouncing off of his left cheek bone and taking a crooked strip of flesh all the way to the end of his jawline. This wound screamed in pain and so did he.

Rhoke was caught off guard by the yell of his brother and got decked from his left. He managed to grab the shirt of the man who snapped his head all the way back for a full three seconds and replied with a headbutt to the man's nose and facial features. He felt the cartilage give way to his thick skull and a shriek of pain escaped lips of the receiver.

Leon jumped away from the knife wielder, who flinched away from the alarming screech that Leon let out. Outside the room, the music had successfully suppressed any noise that escaped the room. Another thump suppressed as Rhoke drove a kick full force into a goon's ribcage, he bounced off the wall, leaving dents where his elbows and head impacted the wall. Something glass in storage fell over with a loud enough clatter to be heard over the music into the fight room.

Leon started his symphony of pain again, catching a fist aimed at his gut, stabbing this man through the muscle in his forearm and kicking him off, using his feet to push him away from another hired hand that had gotten his hands on a chair. It grazed his left leg as he evaded the brunt of the blow. Falling low and driving the blade along the back of the man's left calf. He fell over onto himself in a heap of flailing limbs, his leg no longer supporting his weight.

Rhoke felt cold steel rush through the left side of his ribcage when he moved out of the way of a flying glass bottle. One of the shaded ones had driven a broken screwdriver between two his ribs. It missed his lungs by half a centimeter. He gave a disgruntled "Fuck you!" before popping the man in the throat.

Leon felt the wooden chair swing around into his back and break. He fell over, inadvertently landing behind a guard who took a fist to the chest and fell over Leon's crouching form, landing on the back of his head.

The two had certainly done well, better then they usually did. Ten of the men we're on the ground by now, three more wounded but willing to fight. That left five fresh soldiers to take out. Too many. Rhoke fell to one knee behind his brother, trying to catch his breath, surrounded. His face was starting to hurt from moving so much. Leon knew it was time to go as well, his knife wound pleading for medical attention. The taller brother got to his feet.

Making up his mind, he threw his butterfly knife at Frank, who was watching the whole time with voracious interest as usual. He ducked in a panic, hands going over his head when he saw that the blade was meant for him, the blade biting deep into his left forearm before being stopped by the chair.

"Something to remember me by!" Leon shouted as he grabbed Rhoke by the collar and dragged him up. Leon started his dead sprint through the bar, knowing full well that the employees were obligated to try and stop him. Rhoke had managed to get to his feet as the two stumbled out of the hallway into the club and was now trying to catch his second wind. They ran past Whitley, who had the shotgun out but had conveniently emptied it when she saw that the two brothers walk into the back room. She pulled the trigger in their general direction, it clicked empty, and the she yelled a hasty 'Good luck!' after the two, a handful of bruisers following them.

Rhoke had fallen behind by about five steps, trying to regulate his breathing, Mark had taken up all the space of the door, getting into a tackling position to stop the fast brother. The door guards had an order to stopping the Durant brothers as well. Leon couldn't go through the man-tank, and decided to squeeze by whatever space offered the most room. This ended up being the area above the hulking guard crotched like a bull ready to charge. Mark was taken by surprise as Leon dived over his stance. It usually stopped him all those other times, but failed today. He stood straight up and looked behind him in surprise as Leon slid onto the ground pass the steps into the bar on his stomach and elbows, getting up and continuing in a dead sprint.

Rhoke caught his second wind, taking a deep breath on the run before drop kicking into the unaware giant's chest just as he turned to face the second brother, and rode his body like a surf board until they met the ground, giving off a hasty 'sorry' like he always did to Mike, who didn't deserve to get hurt as much as he did, and followed after his brother.

The new girl was next in Leon's way, she didn't even know how to begin stopping these guys, Leon outright ran past her, punching her in the right thigh with such force her muscle cramped up. She cursed and fell over, slowly starting to get up again. Last but not least was 'Cutter' Grace who charged Leon head on, swinging a right hook. He let the blow slide around his left shoulder, gave Grace the most gentle kiss on the lips, this lasting a fourth of a second as he grabbed her over-extended arm, rotated a hundred and eighty degrees on the spot, and threw her over his shoulder.

She couldn't remember how she ended up on the ground.

At this point in time, Rhoke was just running past the new girl who had finally gotten up, and he popped her in the left thigh as hard as he could, causing her to fall over once again, screaming with more fury then anything else. He held a curious look at Grace lying in the dirt with the most strange expression on her face before catching up with his brother at the end of the road. Spectators had been gathered now, the local NCR casting curious glances from alleys on different streets.

The remaining bruisers had slowed down now, walking in a wall that proceeded down the street, and stopped about fifty yards from the brothers. The wall parted for Frank Evergreen, who arrived three minutes later on the scene. He simply stared out at the boys. He made a gesture with both of his hands, prompting the two to say something.

Rhoke and Leon exchanged glances, blinking repeatedly, they'd been waiting for this moment since childhood. Grins spread over each of their faces. Freedom...

The two crimson coated brothers raised their hands and shouted "Freedom!" For all of the heavens to hear in the middle of a dust filled road of the Western Wasteland.


Grace simply laid in the middle of the road, Frank's bodyguard trash passing into her peripherals. Suddenly a call broke the night silence, shattering her stillness. Not catching what it was, she got up and a soreness worked its way up her back. She glimpsed at her posse down the road. The new girl took a step and fell over, cursing to herself. Mike was waving his right hand in the air, probably trying to get someone's attention.

Grace got up and walked over to him, he usually got the worst of the door bouncers. As she looked at the callous bouncer lying at the doorsteps of the club he guarded, she moved around to his right arm that was waving around nonchalantly and helped pull the man up. He clutched at his whole of his chest with his entire left forearm through the entire process.

"I... I think he broke my ribs." His voice rang out somber and tearful, "All of my ribs."

"It'll be okay Mike," Grace replied, "I think he broke my heart."

And there you have it! Chapter One is done. Its introducing the area the first conflict will be around, and it wont be with the Legion, at least not directly. The big Legion threat won't be around for another chapter or two. I wanted to submit this when I was at least half done with the second chapter but thought better of it. Expect the next chapter some time around Tuesday, or even Monday if I work hard enough on it. I don't want to rush myself because my work turns to crap. I don't want that and neither do you, so please feel free to rate and review.