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Chapter 4: Regrets watered down, washed down in dirty glasses.

It was easy to find the Mojave Outpost, even without my Pip-Boy map and EDI's sensors. I just had to look for the largets shaped pile of useless scrap weat of the Colorado River. That treaty did more harm than good, allowing raiders to run out of control and critters to ambush travellers. The outpost looked like a Brahmin ranch more than a military facility, with all the pack Brahmin backed up.

I know I sound like I hated the NCR, but actually, it was just the leadership that pissed me off. They wanted everything, money, power resources, fame, and they didn't care who got hurt in the process. It's much better these days, with Oliver dead and Kimball removed from office, but I'm getting off topic. I guess I just get a little nostalgic when thinking about past victories. The nostalgia stems from experiences, my own history, and a promise to one who is both a former courier, and a good friend.

Back to the topic at hand. I found out that things at the outpost were screwed up almos as bad as Primm, that was saying something, and it sure wasn't polite. I got the pardon for Meyers with little difficulty, mostly due to his dissociation with the Powder Gangers, and I did some work for Ranger Jackson and got a better combat rifle. I was glad to hear he got to keep his position, thanks to the intel we got. Now he has the hell of managing patrols for trade routes, but I think he actually likes the job.

Met Cass in the bar that day as well, drinking what I found out later was more than usual. She had lost her caravan to what she thought was raiders, maybe even Fiends. She told me about Crimson Caravans, who ironically were the ones who ambushed her caravan with the Van Graffs. Both groups lost their trade routes to the Mojave after that, but Happy Trails easily filled that void. I didn't trust McLafferty, and I am glad I ultimately got rid of them, thanks to Jackson.

Ghost sent me of to Nipton, and that was where I met one of the worst individuals I had ever met, Vulpes Inculta. The man gave off an air of death worse than a Deathclaw, and his vile deeds were all over that lost town. He may be dead now, but it is a cold comfort to those he tortured and killed. That meeting cemented my hatred for Caesar's Legion, and I warned him that one day, he would regret sparing me. The whole Legion eventually did, but that's for later. I returned to the outpost to report what I found.

Ghost went as white as her nickname at the mention of Vulpes, as I found out later that he had a reputation as a monster and was well founded. I returned to Prim in the dead of the night, finding out that Meyer's had killed of the rest of the convicts. He was grateful that he could remain sherrif, and it was obvious that he would keep the town safe withot problems.

Leaving and heading past Nipton, I found a nice place to rest at Wolfhorn Ranch. It was abbandoned, but served as a good place to rest, safe from packs of Nightstalkers. EDI played 'Big Iorn' that night, as if approving of Meyer's and my decision to make him sherrif. Primm needed a sherrif like him, and the got a real protector, unlike that joke Beagle. I closed my eyes, and readied for the next trip.


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