AUTHOR'S NOTE

This chapter ended up being really long, so i cut it into two parts. I'll be posting the other half shortly.

Disclaimer- I don't own any aspect of Fallout NV, sadly. *Sigh*

Rate/Review, don't be a poo.

Thanks for reading!


Chapter 3- And Into The Line Of Fire, Part One

As the sun began to set over Goodsprings, Six and Sunny walked back towards the Prospectors Saloon, sweaty and tired after the day's events.

"Close call back there," Sunny said. "Gecko nearly took your arm off."

"Yea," Six agreed, nursing her recently patched up injury. While trying to save a girl who'd been surrounded by a group of geckos, one of the vicious reptiles jumped out of nowhere and bit into her, its sharp teeth tearing though the thin fabric of her vault suit and leaving an ugly gash on her arm. After a shaky thank you from the woman, Jeannine (who was luckily unharmed) the pair stopped by Doc Mitchell's, who was none too happy about having to treat Six again so soon.

"Lucky you got a dead eye, else I would've had to learn to be a leftie," she mumbled. Sunny laughed.

"Maybe, but before that you did pretty well. You take to a gun natural. Safe to say you've at least had some experience with 'em."

Six nodded her head, remembering how easily she'd picked off the geckos before jumping into the fray to save Jeannine. The rife sunny had given her had felt almost natural in her hands, like an extension of her arm.

She tried not to let that worry her too much.

As the two entered the saloon, a pretty woman with dark hair and a friendly smile walked up from behind the counter. "Howdy, girls", she greeted.

"Hey Trudy," Sunny replied, taking a seat at the bar. "Can I get two sarsaparillas please."

"Sure thing." Trudy brought out the sodas and extended her hand to the courier, who smiled in return and shook it.

"You must be the girl whose been causing quite a stir, glad to finally meet you. Welcome to the Prospectors Saloon. "

"Nice to meet you too," Six replied. "You got anything to eat around here? Coming out of a gunshot induced coma and almost getting my arm torn off has given me quite an appetite."

Trudy chuckled and went to the back, coming out with two steaming bowls of gecko stew. Sunny laughed and stated that this was a revenge meal like no other.

"It's on the house too," Trudy said after setting the bowls down in front of them. "Jeannine came in and told me what you did for her, and I figure you at least deserve some free food, for your good deed."

Six tried to tell her that it was Sunny who did most of the saving, but Trudy cut her off.

"Oh no, none of that. Jeannine told me how you jumped into action when you saw she was being attacked, and I figure anyone willin' to stick their neck out like that for a stranger is good enough to eat at my saloon. "

"Yea," Sunny spoke up. "Plus, the only thing I did was take that last gecko off your arm, you pretty much took out the rest of 'em."

"Exactly." Trudy smiled. "So shut up and eat your food." Six laughed.

"Yes, ma'am," she saluted before digging in.

"So," Sunny said after watching the courier inhale half of her bowl. "What's your story; What'd you do to get shot in the head and left in a shallow grave?" Six looked up from her meal.

"I don't really know," she replied tentatively. "I'm a courier, and I was making a delivery to the Strip when I got attacked by some thugs and a man in a checkered suit. That's all I really know, don't remember much else." She turned to Trudy. "Easy Pete said you might have talked to them; do you know anything about the men who attacked me?"

"Not much." Trudy said. "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. Fella named Victors' the one who saw the whole thing go down, dug you outta your grave. Might wanna talk to him, he'd probably know more."

"Oh yeah, Victor," the Courier said, remembering Doc Mitchell mentioning him before. "What's he like?"

"Big robot, can't miss 'em. He's usually rolling around here somewhere during the day."

"Victors' a robot?" Six asked, startled.

"Yea." Trudy's look turned sour.

"What's wrong? Do you know him well?"

Trudy hesitated. "I know that… thing as well as anyone else around here. It mostly keeps to itself, which is just fine by me. It was here when I took over the saloon seven years ago, and rumor has it that it's owner used to live here, but no one knows who it was." Trudy shuddered. "It's never tried to…. help anyone before."

"What, don't trust him?" Six asked. The older woman shrugged.

"It acts friendly enough, but I don't trust the whole cheerful cowboy act, I find it all very creepy. I don't know, maybe it's the voice, or maybe the fact that no one knows where it really came from, but to me, that robot spells trouble."

Six nodded. "I'll have to catch up with him sometime." She wasn't sure what Victor's presence could mean. Hell, maybe it didn't mean anything, but she had a gut feeling that there was more going on than what she could see.

She just hoped she was wrong.

"So!" Trudy said, interrupting her thoughts. "Tell me about yourself, there's gotta be more to ya then just getting shot up by strangers."

So the trio sat around the bar, laughing and trading stories while passing a bottle of wine around. Six told them about how she didn't remember her name or anything before that night at the cemetery. She also told them about how her head start hurting the more she tried to remember.

"It's weird, almost like I didn't even exist before that night," She said. "The first thing that pops up when I try to think back is waking up in the dirt, dizzy, with my hands tied up. But when I try to go further, the pain in my head gets so bad, its unbearable. Can't even remember what I ate for breakfast that morning." Six paused, shaking her head. "I remember regular things, like how to speak, and count and all that, but everything about me, about who I was is just… gone."

"You know," Trudy interjected. "I once knew a man who got amnesia back in my hometown, name was crazy Al. Well, that's what we called him anyways. Rumor was that Crazy Al was a solder, and he went through some bad shit while he was in service. They say that the memories got to be so bad, his brain just decided to block them. Most days he seemed fine, but when crazy Al got a little too drunk, he would go around talking nonsense to people, about how he kept seeing things he couldn't make sense of in his head; horrible things at these random times. Well after a while it all got to be too much for him, and he started drinking more and more, just so he could sleep right. Died of alcohol poison after a while." Trudy looked at the Courier.

"Maybe it's like that for you too. Maybe you don't remember cause you don't want to remember, so your brains trying to make it hard to come back; trying to make you forget."

A sudden chill went up Six's spine. she pictured her memories like maggots, trying to worm their way into her head. Pain flared up in her skull again, but she pushed it down and tried to ignore it.

"Way to kill the mood, Trudy," Sunny mumbled after a while. An apologetic look crossed the older woman's face.

"Sorry… forget I said anything, I get a little too talkative when I've been drinking. I'm sure your memories will come back, give or take a few days."

"Yea," sunny interjected. "Besides, I'm sure they just got scrambled up on account of the bullet. I'd be surprised if you didn't have something goin' on up there, after what you've been through. Don't worry about it too much."

"You're right," Six replied, taking another sip of wine. "It's probably nothing."

But that night, when she camped out under the stars, the air felt different. Heavy with all the things she didn't remember.


While she slept, Six dreamed in flashes of light. One by one they came, intertwining with one another, making her dizzy. Voices emerged like ghosts.

The blinding white light of a gun being fired. The game was rigged from the start

The hazy yellow of Doc Mitchell's home. You've been out cold a couple of days now

And… fire, eating up everything in its path. Run...

Her dream began to shift.

A young girl came into focus, fire swirling around her. Gray smoke rose in the air, blurring her vision. The noise of gunfire echoed in her ears.

The little girl stood there, crying; reaching out for her. She tried to focus on the girl's face, but the more she tried, the thicker the smoke became.

"Run!" She tried to cry at the small figure. But the smoke invaded her lungs, choking her. The flames bean to rise; burning stronger and stronger until they were all she could see.

Suddenly, the gunfire stopped, and all she could hear were the crackle of flames, mingled with her own labored breaths.

Then all of a sudden, one shot rang out, clear and vibrant. She heard a small cry. Six felt herself drop to her knees.

"NO!"


Six woke with a start.

"Sonofabitch!" she shouted, clutching her head. The pain was so intense, she felt that someone had poured a vat of acid onto her brain. Sitting up, she reached into her pack and pulled out a syringe of Med- x. She hesitated for a moment before injecting the whole thing into her arm.

Slowly, the pain began to dull, and the pleasing tingle began to work its way through her body.

"Better," she sighed, putting the medicine away. She felt a bit guilty that she used all of it, but the pain was the worst she had experienced so far, and she concluded that it was a justified decision. She laid back down on the old mattress and tried to remember what she had been dreaming about. The first thing that came to her was a face, so blurry that she couldn't make out the features. And fire. Fire was what she remembered more than anything else. She sighed.

All in due time.

Six checked the time on her Pip- Boy, 4 AM. Yawning, she turned to her side and snuggled into the blanket Trudy had given her The woman had offered to make room for her t her house, but Six had politely declined.

"I should camp out tonight, learn to live outside again," She had told her. As Six left the saloon, she wondered if she was used to camping. She figured that she must be, what with being a courier and all.

Six had walked around for a bit and spotted an old RV with a dirty mattress inside, complete with a cold campfire. Better than nothing.

As she snuggled into bed, Six felt the warm sensation of the Med-x all around her, making her thoughts become pleasantly fuzzy. Not long after, she drifted back off to sleep, dreamless and peaceful.


The next day, Six walked back to the saloon, looking forward to hanging out with her new friends again. Trudy agreed to let her help around the saloon so she could earn a few caps to get her back on her feet. She even offered to teach her a bit of cooking to serve customers.

Walking through the front door, she heard an angry voice come from around the corner.

"I'm done being nice. 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," she heard Trudy say. "Now if you're not gonna buy something, get out."

A man with dark skin and a scowl on his face came from around the corner and nearly knocked her over.

"You got a problem?!" he yelled at her.

"No problem here," She replied thickly, collecting herself. The man gave her the eye and she gave it right back.

"Hmph, whatever," he said after a while and left, slamming the door behind him.

"Asshole," Six murmured before walking up to the bar.

"What was that all about?" she asked Trudy.

"Looks like out little town got itself dragged into the middle of something we don't want anything to do with," She replied.

"What do you mean?"

"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. So the folks here gave him a place to lie low. Nobody expected anyone to come after him, but it's starting to look like we were wrong."

"And who was that Casanova?" Six asked. Trudy rolled her eyes.

"Said his name was Cobb. Leader of a group that call themselves "Powder Gangers". Unfortunately, there's plenty more like him out there."

Powder Gangers? She tried to rack her brain for the term, but of course, she drew a blank.

Trudy saw her confused look so she explained how the gang group came in from California, courtesy of the NCR.

"And who's the NCR?" All these things she had no idea about were beginning to frustrate her.

"NCR's the biggest army in the Mojave, based out of California. Their goal is to restore all those prewar values back into the wasteland. You know, government, law, money and trade regulation, stuff like that. They can be a bit annoying, what with the strict rules and all, but they keep things safer for the most part, so people tolerate them."

She took a moment to process all the new information. 'I'll look into this later,' she thought.

"This Cobb guy seems like trouble. Where's the man he's after, Ringo? I want to talk to him."

"He's holed up at the abandoned gas station up the hill."

"Alright, I'll talk to him tonight, see what we can do about this."

Trudy shrugged. "If you think you can get rid of him, be my guest. He hasn't asked for any help yet, but personally, I hope he sneaks off one night and takes the Powder Gangers with him. This town doesn't need stuff like this stirring up bad blood. Situations like these tend to end messy."

Six nodded her head.

"Always does."


That night, after Trudy closed the saloon, Six headed over to the abandoned gas station. Walking up to the old wooden door, she gave it a knock. "Hello?" she called. No reply came.

Taking out her pistol, she slowly opened the door and stepped inside.

"Hello?" she called again, straining to see in the darkness. She was just about to turn on her Pip-Boy light when somebody tackled her from the side. "Agh!" she cried.

"Who are you? "a voice hissed in her ear; the figure had her pinned to the floor. "What do you want with me?"

"Get off of me!"

He pressed a gun to her temple. "Not until you tell me your business, stranger."

"Hey pal!", she shouted. "I've already been shot in the head once this week, and I'm not planning on getting shot again!" She glared at him. "And I'm not an enemy, if that's what you're wondering, names Six. I heard you got problem with the Powder Gangers and I was wondering if I could help."

"Help?" He lifted himself off of her. Standing up, he offered her a hand, but she ignored it and got herself off the ground, dusting the dirt off of her clothes. Ringo turned on small a fission lamp and gave her a sheepish look

"Sorry about the gun, you just caught me off guard is all. "

Six eyed him warily, her face a bit flushed from the incident. 'I really hope I'm not that easy to take down all the time,' She thought to herself.

"I came to talk about how to get the Powder Gangers out of Goodsprings," she repeated. Ringo paled.

"You're not gonna turn me over to them, are you?"

"What, no." She shook her head. "Why are they after you anyways?" Ringo grimaced.

"I work for the Crimson Caravan Company. 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." His expressions turned sad. "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."

"What were you planning on doing about them?" She asked.

"I was planning on laying low for as long as I can, assuming the town doesn't throw me to the wolves. I've got no chance against all of them on my own." He gave her a cheeky grin.

"Their leader, Cobb, has been looking for me, but he ain't so tough. I hear he's afraid I'll shoot him down from one of the windows when I see him, and he's right." He looked at her for a brief moment.

"You know; you have pretty eyes." Six gave him a grumpy look.

"Flattery won't get you anywhere here, bub." He raised his hands in surrender.

"Wasn't trying anything, promise. Look I'm sorry I tackled you. I know we got off on the wrong foot, but let's say we start over with a friendly game of caravan. You know how to play?"

She admitted that she didn't, so he handed her a holotape. "Tells you the rules, caravan's fun once you get the hang of it. Here take one of my extra decks, a peace offering for being so inconsiderate, m'lady."

He gave her a low bow. Six tried to keep her composure, but her grumpy look gave over to a small chuckle.

"Alright already, I forgive you. Now shut up and let's figure out how to get rid of the damn Powder Gangers. Maybe I could back you up?"

He smiled at her. "Thanks, but we'd just end up sharing the same grave if it was just the two of us; although to die in such pleasurable company would be a great way to go. However, as you stated that you weren't planning on getting shot anytime soon, maybe we should try to get some of the townspeople on board."

"Not a bad idea," she replied. "Would be good to have the backup, and show that that this town can handle itself." He gave her a strange look.

"Yea. Best bet is to start with Sunny Smiles, she's been friendlier than most around here."

"Got it, I'll see who I can round up." She started walking towards the door.

"Hey girlie," Ringo called out to her. "What's your name again?" She turned to look at him.

"Six," she replied with a smile. "And don't call me girlie again, or I'll shoot you myself." He chuckled.

"I believe you."