Disclaimer: I do not own Fallout. Fallout belongs to Bethesda, who purchased the rights from Black Isle.

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Fallout: New Vegas

Unknown Origins

By Cyberweasel89

Chapter 8: Jailhouse Rock

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The group made their way to the Atomic Wrangler for a room for the night. That morning, they enjoyed a breakfast as they got to know their newest companion.

"So, Doctor Gannon... Tell us a little about yourself, please?" The Courier asked between a mouthful of bacon and eggs.

"I'm really very boring. You'd get better stories out of a Freeside junkie."

"Doctor Gannon, I'm asking because I'm interested. Don't put yourself down."

"Oh, all right. 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."

"I'll say." Boone muttered.

"Boone! How many times do I have to tell you to be nice?" She turned back to Arcade. "Why don't you like talking about yourself, Doctor Gannon?"

"Some people do. I just... don't. Look, I appreciate that you're trying to be friendly, but I'd just rather not discuss it."

"Okay, um... How did you end up joining the Followers of the Apocalypse?"

"Honestly, it isn't too difficult if you have half a brain and aren't a complete jerk. I wanted to help people, and I enjoyed learning, so I signed up. New Vegas is in trouble, so I came out here. If someone doesn't step up and try to help the people here, it's going to end very badly."

"So... where did you get your medical training?"

"The Followers taught me everything I know about medicine. Despite our humble abode here in New Vegas, we have great facilities back in the NCR. We may have overextended ourselves by setting up camp in Freeside, but the people here need help from someone. If not us, who?

"Do you always deflect personal questions, buddy?" Rocket asked between bites of her cereal.

"Only to obfuscate my past association with a fascist paramilitary organization. I'm joking, of course. I will deflect personal questions at any opportunity."

The Courier finished her breakfast and stood up from the table. "Um... I'm going to the Silver Rush. Need to pick up microfusion cells and small energy cells. And maybe the Van Graffs will have work for me."

"Need someone to come with, Boss?" Raul asked.

"No, it's just down the street. I'll be fine. But thank you."

XXXXXXXXXX

The guard at the entrance patted her down for weapons, and ended up searching her pretty thoroughly when he found she didn't have any on her aside from her boxing tape. She nearly fainted in embarrassment when he searched her breasts. He claimed some women hid pistols in their cleavage, but she honestly thought he just wanted to cop a feel. She was allowed to wear her boxing tape in, and entered to find more guards blocking the way further in.

"The bosses are having a meeting. You'll have to wait until it's over." She looked through the cage fence where four people were standing, two in suits, one woman in leather, and a man in combat armor holding a laser rifle.

"Mr. Soren, please get to the point. The second half of your payment is late and I want to know why." the woman in leather stated.

"Ms. Van Graff, my associates and I have decided that we wish to renegotiate the terms of our deal." The first man in the suit explained.

"Might I ask for what reason? The shipment was delivered. The guns were tested before leaving this facility."

"Regardless, we feel that the quality of the weapons is below expectation, and hope to adjust the price accordingly."

"Ah, I think I understand what the issue is here. Excuse me for a moment, would you?" She turned to the man with the laser rifle nearby. "Do it." He fired at the second man in a suit, killing him. "Never break faith with the Van Graffs, Mr. Soren. I expect you'll have the rest of our payment ready tomorrow morning." Mr. Soren quickly turned tail and ran from the building. "Okay, everyone. Show's over. Get back to work."

The guards scattered back to their posts, leaving the Courier to walk around the cage and up to the counter, treading extremely lightly.

"Welcome to the Silver Rush, where only top of the line energy weapons can be found. What can I do for you?"

"Um... I need some microfusion cells and some small energy cells, please."

"Of course. How many?"

"Just a box of each is fine, please."

"Sure. Let me get that for you."

The woman turned around to grab the products. The Courier took this chance to talk her up a bit. "Um... So is this a family business?"

"Yes it is. My brother and I run this particular branch, but our family has operations all over, particularly in California."

"Hm... Um... This seems like a bad neighborhood to open a store."

"Look around, and you'll notice two things. First, we don't lack for security. I'm not worried about anyone breaking in here or stealing our goods. Not that we don't occasionally have attempts, but even those prove useful. Do you know how much target dummies cost?"

The Courier swallowed hard.

"Back to my point, the second thing you'll notice is that we do not sell cheap merchandise. Everything here is second-to-none. People who buy Van Graff goods typically don't care where they have to go to get them."

"I guess I get it. Um... C-Can you tell me a little about yourself?"

"Oh, there's not much to tell. I'm Gloria Van Graff. I was born in a big family and don't get along with my parents, so here I am. As far away from them as possible."

"Okay, um... I was wondering if there was anything I could do to help out around here, Ms. Van Graff."

"You mean if we have work available? It just so happens a position opened up recently. We currently need another body to guard the entrance outside. Think you can handle that?"

"Yes, ma'am. I'd love to help."

"Wonderful. I already have a man outside who can show you the ropes and get you set up. His name is Simon. He's been with the family for years, so listen to what he says, and follow his instructions."

The Courier crossed her arms over her breasts defensively. "You mean... Th-The man who groped my breasts?"

Gloria's eye's glanced down to the Courier's hefty bosom. "Ah. Nice to see Simon is doing his job. My apologies, but he is under direct orders from me to make sure no buxom women are hiding pistols or explosives in their cleavage. I learned that lesson quite well."

Sighing, the Courier trudged outside to meet with the guard.

XXXXXXXXXX

"Thanks for coming to the Silv- Aw, crap. Don't tell me you're my new guard."

"Um... H-How did you know?"

"You can always tell a rookie. You look too eager. Give the job a few hours, and the shine'll come right off. You'll be coverin' the other side of the door there. Take your position while I get your stuff out."

Sighing, the Courier went to stand on the opposite side of the door, while Simon rummaged around in a nearby weapon trunk.

"Good. Look around and get a feel for where customers and risks can enter and exit an area. I'll get your gear ready." He got up and walked over, carrying a garment in his arms.

"Okay, now let's get you geared up. First, your armor." He handed it to her, but she just stared. "Well? Aren't you gonna put it on?"

"Um... C-Could you look away, please?"

Sighing, the Van Graff guard turned to face the other way as the Courier pulled the armor on. "Standard issue is your run-of-the-mill combat armor, with a nice dark coat of paint for both brand recognition and sheer intimidation value. Next, your weapon." He walked over to the weapons crate, rummaging around in it. "Guards are required to use rifles. Anything lighter comprises your combat effectiveness. Anything heavier and people are too scared to come in the door. What's your preference? Laser or plasma?"

"Um... What's the difference?" She was surprised with how well the armor fit. She didn't think there was any armor suited for her short stature and ridiculous breasts.

"Lasers have a high rate of fire, but not a lot of stopping power. Plasma on the other hand is slow as a mule, but with a kick to match. So, what'll it be?"

"Um... I'll take laser."

"Good choice. I prefer laser-based weapons myself, but the boss lady says she wants at least one guard using a plasma rifle." The Courier blushed as he returned and handed her a laser rifle, when she held awkwardly. "Says the lightning bits draw in more people. Whatever. Now that you're equipped, a quick word on the job at hand." She listened intently. "In a nutshell, we're here to keep the riff-raff away. Drunks, punks, and capless vermin are to be turned away. Potential customers are to be permitted normal entrance. That is, after we pat them down for weapons. An unarmed man is a lot less likely to try to steal something with several armed guards around. Don't start any fights. I don't care if some Jet junkie just insulted your mother. We're here to promote violence elsewhere, not start it here. Lastly, don't abandon your post. We're getting paid to stand next to this door, not talk to someone down the street or head to the casino. That goes double for any thoughts of splitting with that gear. Every now and then some young punk thinks he can run off with Van Graff property. Trust me, the rifle and armor are nice, but they're not worth your life. Other than that, relax. Who knows, you might attract a high roller from the Wrangler over there and never have to pull a gig like this again."

The Courier stood at attention on her side of the door, drawing her laser rifle and holding it as ease like Simon was doing. "Settle in. We've got some hours left before the shift ends."

The Courier let her thoughts wander as she stood at attention. But she tried not to let them wander too much. After all, she had a job to do.

"Here comes a winner. I'll let you handle this one."

Sure enough, a man in rags was walking up to the door. Or rather, staggering up to the door. "Hi there. Is this where I can pick up a... laser gun?" His slurred speech obviously meant he was drunk.

"Um... Sorry, sir, but I can't let you in. C-Company policy."

The drunkard crossed his arms. "Sounds like a stupid policy to me." Still, he turned and walked off.

"Good. Stick to the rules." Simon complimented. The Courier blushed.

About an hour later, Simon spoke up again. "Another one comin'. You're on." It seemed there was a man in a nice brown suit approaching. "Uh, hi. I was um... in the area and thought I'd stop in to look at your weapons. Can I go in?" He asked.

"Um... We're going to have to search you first, sir."

"Fine by me."

The Courier blushed at the idea of what she was about to do, but thankfully Simon took pity on her and searched the man for her. "He's clean." They allowed the man in. "See? Not so hard, is it?"

The Courier noted the man left half an hour later with a shiny new laser pistol and a box of energy cells for it. He looked satisfied with his purchase. About an hour after that, Simon spoke up again."Heads up. Looks like we've got another customer."

Sure enough, a man was approaching in a dark brown suit and hat, walking out of the Atomic Wrangler. "Howdy!" he greeted. "I just done broke the bank at the Wrangler there and thought I might peruse your fine wares, maybe lighten my purse a little."

"Um... C-Certainly sir. B-But we'll need to pat you down for weapons first."

"Now hold on here, I'm not packing any heat. Ain't my word good enough for you?"

"Um... I'm sure you're a man of your word, sir, but we s-still need to pat you down. N-No exceptions."

"I suppose it's all right, if there's no other choice."

Again, Simon did it for her. She'd have to thank him later. "He's clean."

"See? Told you so."

The man left about an hour later with a big plasma rifle, though no ammo for it. The Courier idly wondered about that. It was just as he was out of sight that Simon spoke again. "Looks like that guy's headin' this way. Don't screw it up."

Sure enough, there was a man in a big coat approaching. She found the big coat a little suspicious... Either he planned to smuggle something out, or was smuggling something in. She'd have to be careful. "Hey. Lookin' for somethin' to replace my old revolver. Mind if I head in?" he asked.

"Um... S-Sorry, but we're going to have to search you first, s-sir."

"That's not really necessary, is it? I already told you I got this here revolver, right?"

"Um... I-It's company policy, sir. We... We need to search all customers."

The man looked nervous. "Damn, I knew this wasn't gonna work!" He pulled his revolver, and the Courier panicked.

"Stop him!" He was soon blasted with Simon's plasma rifle, melting his arm and head clean off. The Courier let out a sigh of relief. "What in the hell do you suppose that was about?" the guard wondered. He walked over to where the man lay dead. "Help me clean this up. No one's going to want to shop here with a corpse out front."

Surprisingly, she found a block of C-4 on him, which Simon quickly confiscated, and she also found a note explaining that he was going to bomb the store as revenge against the Van Graffs for what they did to his family. She felt a bit bad for him, but revenge is never the answer. She helped Simon drag his corpse to the nearby dumpster.

It was about two hours later that Simon spoke again. "Crap. This I do not need today. Keep your head straight, rookie. Things are about to get interesting."

A young man walked up, dressed in a dark jacket and horizontally striped shirt. He looked like one of the Kings. "Hey, Simon. How's it hangin'? Looks like you've got a little helper today."

"Hey, Pacer. What can I say? Business has been good lately. We can afford the help." The guard responded. They seemed to know each other.

"Good to hear, buddy. So is the boss lady in?"

"You know she is. Why don't you go in and say hi?" Simon asked. It almost sounded like he was daring him.

"Nah, I've got some rounds to run. But do pass along that I'm always thinkin' of her. Actually, I've got a better idea. Make the new hire tell her. You'll do that for me, won't you?"

She couldn't help but feel a little creeped out by this... Pacer. "Um... I'll... I'll be sure to pass it along." She told him, too unnerved to smile.

"That's a good dog. Well, I'm outta here. Later, Simon." He turned to walk away. The Courier let out a sigh or relief.

"Way to keep your head, rookie. There's hope for you yet." The Courier blushed.

"It's just about closin' time. Let's go see the boss about gettin' paid. Oh, I'm gonna need the rifle and armor back. Boss's orders."

The Courier giggled, slipping out of the armor and handing it right to Simon, unashamed. He was a bit stunned at first. "Um... Mr. Simon, sir?" She clasped her hands together in front of her thighs, blushing. "I just wanted to thank you for... for saving me from that bomber, and… and for doing the frisking for me. I don't think I could've handled it."

"Uh... Yeah, sure, it's no problem. I just figured, you're new and all, so-" He was silenced when she stepped onto the weapons trunk and kissed him on the cheek. He stood there speechless as she got dressed and headed inside. Simon followed soon after.

XXXXXXXXXX

She waited for Simon to finish talking to Gloria Van Graff before approaching. When he walked away, she walked up to the counter, Simon patting her on the shoulder when they passed. She gave him a small smile as a light blush crept to her cheeks.

"Simon's been telling me how it went. Let's do a quick recap." Gloria began. "You kept away the undesirables, patted down the rest for weapons, and kept your cool. That is to say, you performed as instructed. Simon was impressed, and so am I. So you get a small bonus with your normal pay." She handed the Courier more than a handful of bottlecaps. She happily pocketed them. "Unfortunately, I found someone else with a little more experience, and he'll take over the position starting tomorrow. However, another task has come up that I could use some help with. Assuming you're still interested in making money?"

The Courier smiled. "I'm interested in helping out, yes."

"Good. There's a deal we've been working on for a while now, and the buyer would like a sample of our weapons. I need you to run a package to a discrete location that the client has chosen. Sound good?"

The Courier nodded. "Of course! I'll do it."

"Excellent. Here's the package. I'll mark the location on your map." The Courier showed Gloria her Pip-Boy, which she marked with a few simple button pushes. "The buyer said they'd be in town for quite a while, so there's no rush. That said, try not to dawdle. This client could mean big money for us, which naturally means big money for you."

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She found the man right where her map marker indicated.

"Are you the Van Graffs emissary?" he asked.

"Um... I am, sir."

"Do you have what we requested?"

"Uh... Who is we?"

"We were told there would be no questions. Do you have what we requested or not?"

"Um... It's right here, sir." She set her pack down on the ground and removed the package, handing it to him.

"Ah. Then our business is concluded. Tell your superiors that we will contact them shortly."

Okay, that man was... strange. She felt a shiver run up her spine as she walked away.

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"Welcome back. Did you have news for me, or are you just here for the guns?"

"Um... I delivered the package like you requested, Ms. Van Graff, ma'am."

"And? Don't leave me in suspense. What was their reaction?"

"Um... He seemed pleased, and said he'd be in touch."

"Good... Good. Here's your payment. If you'll excuse me, I have some thinking to do. Come see me again tomorrow." She paid her a handful of bottlecaps.

"Th-Thank you, ma'am."

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"Hey, you're the one who's been goin' around helpin' people around here, right? The King says to keep up the good work, and said to give you this." The Kings member handed her a box of Cheezy Poofs before running off.

"I wonder what's going on?" The courier wondered. "So far, the Kings have given me spare ammo, food, and some caps several times, all saying they're from the King."

"Evidently..." Arcade began. "The King has taken an interest in you and all the things you've been doing around Freeside."

"Hm... I think we should pay him a visit. Where is he?"

"Huh? Well, if you really want to see him, the base of operations for the entire Kings gang is the King's School of Impersonation. There's a big neon sign on the building, as if all the Kings congregating around it wasn't enough hint. Why? What do you plan to do when you meet the King?"

"Well, first, I need to thank him for these gifts. Then, I need to see if there's any way I can help him directly."

XXXXXXXXXX

When they arrived at the King's School of Impersonation, the Courier stopped everyone at the door. "Hang on. We're a big group. I'm going in alone. I don't want anyone to freak out when they see us enter. I'll be less threatening by myself." The Courier explained.

"You shouldn't go in without protection." Boone explained.

The Courier sighed. "Fine. I guess I'll take Edy. They'll probably think she's my pet robot or something."

After the Courier and Edy had entered the building, Rocket turned to the group and sighed. "Man, this charity work sucks. Sure, we usually get paid, but it's real bitch work."

"Hey, what the Boss says, goes." Raul pointed out to the ghoul child.

"And who made her boss of us?" was Rocket's response.

Cass was about to answer... but paused. "Actually... that's a very good question."

"It's weird..." Veronica began. "But when the Courier tells me to do something, it's like I feel compelled to do it."

"Yeah! She totally asks nicely, but it's like it's an order I can't refuse." Neiila commented.

"I admit... Not even my old commanding officers from First Recon could order me around like this. And she's not even really ordering me. She always asks."

"It's almost like she has that fire that makes anyone willing to follow her into the depths of hell itself. I've seen some of it in some of the higher-ups of the Brotherhood, but not even Father Elijah had it as strong as the Courier does."

"Hm... If I didn't know better, I'd say she was a natural-born leader." Cass mused.

"Skynet finds this discussion worthy of cataloguing. The human is a strange one, indeed."

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She entered to find some kind of reception area, which had been turned into a makeshift bar. A Kings member was wiping down the counter, while another stood at it with a drink. She stepped over to a closed door guarded by a King in a leather jacket and horizontally striped shirt. He stopped her before she could reach for the handle.

"What do we have here? Another petitioner for the King?" Oh, crap... It's that King who approached the Silver Rush with a message for Gloria Van Graff! What was his name again? Pacer?

"Um... H-Hi. Uh... I'd like to see the King, if possible, sir." She stammered, shifting uncomfortably under his gaze. No wonder he hadn't recognized her face yet. His eyes were locked on her cleavage.

"Hm... Anything's possible, I suppose. How much is it worth to you to meet the big man?"

"Um... Five caps?"

"What do I look like, a beggar to you? Take a hike, cheapskate."

She flinched. "Uh... Fifty caps?"

"Hm... Now you're gettin' somewhere."

"Um... Five hundred?"

"Whoa! I mean, yeah, that should do. The King will see you now." She handed him the caps, watching as he unlocked the door with a key and allowed her to pass. "Head on through. He's the bored-lookin' guy by the stage. Can't fuckin' miss him."

She walked in, nearly jumping ten feet in the air when a hand grabbed and squeezed her ass. She whirled around to see Pacer withdrawing his hand, whistling and looking nonchalant. Sighing, she stepped further into the room to find it full of tables and chairs, centered on a stage where a member of the Kings seemed to be performing a song. She guessed the man in the nice white suit near the front of the stage was the King, though her attention was drawn to the cyberdog sitting by his side. She walked up and took a seat in the chair next to the man, Edy hovering nearby. She watched the Kings member's performance and waited for him to finish before she spoke, but the man turned to face her first when the Kings member stepped down from the stage.

"Look, Rexie. Someone new's come to see us. Poor boy. He hasn't been feelin' well lately. I'm the King. What can I do for you?"

She was surprised with how... pleasant he was. "I'm the Courier. Um... When the Kings member by the door charged me to enter, I thought you'd be more... Well, not as friendly, Mr. King, sir."

"Charged? Ha ha! Pace must be at it again. What did he take you for?"

She was surprised. Here he was, willing to pay her back for what she paid Pacer. A blush crept to her face as she shook her head. "Um... N-No, it's fine, Mr. King, sir. You don't have to worry about it."

"You're modest. I respect that." Her blush deepened. She felt herself smiling. "So... what can I do for you?"

"Well... um..." she fidgeted nervously with her hands, directed her gaze down at the table. "First I... wanted to thank you for all the little gifts you've been sending to me."

"Aw, don't mention it. I've heard stories of what you've been doin' around town. Figure someone who goes around doin' what you do needs somethin' more than the satisfaction of helpin' folks."

Her blush deepened, if that was possible. "Thank you, sir. Um... I was wondering if there was anything you needed help with. I'd... I'd be willing to offer my services, sir."

"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 when it's done. Sound good?"

She nodded. "Of course, sir. What do you need me to do?"

"I'll start ya off with somethin' easy. Did you notice the bodyguards for hire near the gates when you entered Freeside?"

"Um... Yes. One was a Kings member who I paid for directions."

"Ha! Paid for directions? How much?"

She blushed again. He was planning to pay her back again, wasn't he? "Um... No, it's not worth mentioning."

"Hm... If you say so. Anyway, 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, a fella named Orris, is makin' a little too much money. He's makin' a killin' 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 guessin' things won't go so smoothly. Call it a hunch. So, what do you say?"

She smiled. "Of course, Mr. King, sir. I'd be happy to."

"Okay, then. Once you part ways, return here. I'll look forward to hearin' your report. Oh, and take this to cover the hirin' cost." He reached into his pocket and handed her a handful of caps. The Courier's eye went wide. He was actually giving her the money to pay Orris with? Wow.

"Um... Th-Thank you, sir. I'll be back soon."

XXXXXXXXXX

She discussed it with her companions, and Cass suggested she dress the part of the tourist. They stopped by a clothing store for a pink Pre-War spring dress. The Courier admitted, it felt breezy to wear it compared to her stuffy prospector dress, but it didn't offer any more coverage for her breasts than the other one did. They exited Freeside out the east gate, then looped around to the north gate, the Courier getting changed while her companions acted as human shields. Boone suggested he keep an eye on her from atop one of the buildings in case she needed help, which the Courier reluctantly agreed to. When she stepped through the north gate into Freeside, some nearby men whistled at her. To her embarrassment, a breeze flew by, throwing her skirt up and exposing her bare ass and nethers to them. She pushed the garment down, cursing that the skirt was shorter and lighter than the one on her prospector dress. Her face beet red, she approached the man in the metal armor who she was told was Orris. She noted the man did not take his eyes off her heavily exposed cleavage.

"If you need to cross Freeside, no one will keep you safer than I will."

She had to make herself seem like an innocent tourist. "Um... Why would I need a bodyguard crossing Freeside, sir?"

"Just look around. People here are as like to stab you as say hello. That is, if I weren't at your side."

"Um... How much for your services, sir?"

"Two hundred caps gets ya my watchful eye for a trip to the south gate."

That was twice as much as what the other bodyguards were charging, but the King paid her that same amount for this job. She handed the man the caps, who pocketed them and ushered her down the street, a gentle hand on the curve of her back.

"Now, 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 normally keep a brisk pace, but for you?" He rubbed her back suggestively. "I'm willing to go slow."

She blushed, despite herself. "Um... Th-Thank you, Mr. Orris, sir."

A hand still on her back, he led her down the street at a leisurely pace. "To your left here is the Old Mormon Fort. If you get roughed up, the Followers there will patch you right up. Not that I ever need their services."

They passed the little boy who was a crier for Mick and Ralph's, nearing the King's School of Impersonation up ahead. "Up ahead on the next block is where the Kings hang out. Don't let them scare you. They don't outnumber you five to one, you'll be fine."

They passed the Kings base, heading further down the street. "Down to the right here is the fun part of town. You haven't seen Freeside 'till you've been to the Wrangler."

He stopped her just as they reached the next intersection. "Hey, hold up. I don't like the look of some of those men ahead. Let's take a different way around."

Sure enough, there were four men up ahead, just standing there. "Um... I-If you say so, Mr. Orris, sir."

He led her to the left down a side road. It was fine until they made their second left turn, where Orris let go of her and ran ahead to meet four men with tire irons and baseball bats. "Gotcha! Thought you could ambush us, huh?" Orris drew his pistol and fired at them, easily felling all four in only three shots. Wait... three? And where was the blood? Orris walked up to her and wrapped his arm around her back, a hand on her hip. The Courier swallowed hard.

"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."

"Th-That was amazing, Mr. Orris, sir! There were four men, but you only fired three shots!"

"Er, noticed that, did you? I keenly aimed one of the shots through the soft tissue of one of them to hit the man behind him."

"Oh. And why did you run up ahead like that? Did you sense the danger and run up to protect me?"

"Call it a hunch. You do this job for long enough and you learn to trust your instincts."

The Courier walked over to one of the corpses, prodding it a little. Wait a minute... they weren't dead! They were just faking!

"Something wrong, miss?"

"Um... No, Mr. Orris, sir. I've just... never seen a dead body before."

"Well, hope I didn't traumatize you." He walked up, wrapping his arm around her back again... this time his hand was on her ass! She felt a shiver go up her spine right from the point of contact. They continued down the road and stopped at the entrance to the Strip.

"Well, here we are. No worse for wear, are you? I trust that if you need to cross Freeside again, you'll know who to hire."

"Um... Th-Thank you, Mr. Orris, sir." The Courier turned to leave, but her hand snagged. She immediately found herself pulled into the man's arms.

"What's the rush, baby?"

"Um... I... have to be somewhere..." she mumbled.

"Hey, no hurry. Why don't I show you a good time? We can go check out the Atomic Wrangler, maybe."

Both hands. On her ass cheeks. Bad! Very, very bad!

"Um... Th-That's okay... I need to go m-meet a friend."

Both breasts, squashed against his armor! So bad! So very bad! She already felt the heat rising from her chest, clouding her mind.

"I'm sure she can wait. You can't tell me you didn't feel something between us."

Oh, god! His hand was on her breast! She felt her legs and arms turn to gelatin. Crap, crap, crap!

"OW!"

The man stumbled forward, letting the Courier go, the distinctive sound of a bullet hitting metal resounding. He pulled his pistol and whirled around, scanning the area intensely, and the Courier saw a bullet stuck in the plate of his metal armor. She quickly ran down the street to head into the King's School of Impersonation. It was the closest building where she knew she'd be safe.

Boone... he saved her again. Like her knight in shining armor, saving the princess from a ferocious dragon... Even as she ran, she felt a blush come to her cheeks, and it wasn't just from arousal.

XXXXXXXXXX

To say the King was surprised to see her in a Pre-War spring dress was about accurate. Not to mention a deep blush was on her face and she was panting.

"Or... Orris is a fraud! He fakes attacks on his clients and then plays hero! And he..." She gazed down at the ground, ashamed. "He tried to come onto me."

"So that's how it happens... Okay, then. I'll have some guys pull him off the street when no one's lookin'. I'm sorry you had to go through that." He placed a hand on her shoulder, and she felt instantly comforted. She actually managed a small smile. The King patted the chair next to him, which she took a seat on, smoothing out her skirt with her hands. "You've shown me somethin', so maybe you can help me with a matter that's a little more important. A lot of folks around these parts been here awhile and 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 bein' 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. Head on over and see if they remember anything."

The Courier nodded. "I'll head over right away, Mr. King, sir."

"Good. I like that enthusiasm. Return when you have some information we can use."

"Um... M-Mind if I ask you a few questions, sir?"

"Sure can. What did you want to know?"

"Um... What can you tell me about Freeside?"

"To understand Freeside, you have to look back a few years. Originally, we were all just tribes makin' a livin' in this area. That all changed when Mr. House came around. He made an offer to the three biggest tribes that were willin' to listen to him. Today, everyone calls those tribes the Three Families, and they live in luxury and run their own casinos on the Strip. The rest of us were left to fight over the crumbs, livin' in the shadow of those more fortunate. Things got pretty nasty for a while. But we wanted more. A place of our own. A place where no one could tell us what to do. And we didn't wanna go elsewhere to find it. So we took control of this place, and made it our own. And that's really all Freeside is, the best of a bad situation."

"Wow. So... Who are the important players here in Freeside, Mr. King, sir?"

"There's me, but I don't really like talkin' about myself. There's Julie Farkas and the other Followers down at the ol' Mormon Fort. The Garrett Twins up at the Wrangler deserve mention. Wouldn't be right not mentionin' the Van Graffs, I suppose. And while they're not important in the overall scheme of things, there's Mick and Ralph, too. Just don't... tell them I said that. Who all did you want to know about?"

"Um... Tell me about Julie Farkas, please."

"Julie represents the Followers of the Apocalypse. They're a group that tries to help people out whenever they can, so we get along just fine. If you ever need to get patched up, one of their docs'll have you right as rain in no time flat. They sell supplies, too. Didn't for a while, but now they do again thanks to you."

The Courier blushed. "I try my best, Mr. King, sir. Um... Can you tell me about the Garrett Twins, please?"

"Them twins run the Atomic Wrangler, the only workin' casino here in Freeside. It's become pretty much the place to go around these parts. Give it a whirl when you've got some time."

"Um... I'm not one for gambling, but their food is good. Uh... Oh! What about the Van Graffs?"

"They're a family-run business from out west that deal in weapons, mostly. A word of caution, though. They're not a friendly bunch. Not at all. Their store is just past the Wrangler, and sells all kinds of fancy weapons that most people around here can't afford."

"Yeah, I did some work for them. They're okay, I suppose... once your earn their approval. And the guard out front, Simon, is really nice." She smiled, a blush creeping to her cheeks. "Um... I met Mick and Ralph. Can you tell me anything about them, sir?"

"Mick and Ralph sell all kinds of things over at a small store by the east gate. They've done all right by us, and they'll do all right by you."

"Yeah, I'm guessing they provide um... most of the guns around here. Uh... Can you tell me about the Kings, sir?"

"We're different than other gangs, and not just because we dress better. We're not just a group of thugs lookin' for our next fight. The Kings... are about an idea, you see? Where every man is free to follow his own path, do his own thing. Where every man is a king in his own right." She felt a shiver go up her spine. That sounded almost... inspiring. Either that or the King really knew how to sell his views.

"Um... Why isn't every man in Freeside a member of the Kings, sir?"

"We've tried to pass our philosophy on to the people of Freeside. But not everyone is ready... to be a King. The kids love us, but the old-timers... tend to shy away and keep to themselves. And they probably couldn't pull off the look, anyway. As for the others, some people just plain don't respect others, and that's a no-no. If there's one thing I won't tolerate, it's lack of respect."

She felt herself hypnotized, hanging on the King's every word. "Um... C-Can I join the Kings, Mr. King, sir?" Crap! Did she really just say that?

"Whoa, there. Not just anyone can be a King."

Her bubble burst spectacularly.

"First of all, we usually only accept people native to the area. Second, I have to approve. And I don't. You haven't shown me you've got what it takes to be a King, yet. But if you're fixin' to join somethin' fierce, stick around, and if you play your cards right, things might change."

"Um... Okay... Uh... This... This building is... interesting. Do you know anything about its history, sir?"

"Near as I can tell, it was some sort of religious institution. Oh, I know it says 'school' out front, but everything in here seems to be related to the worship of some guy from back in the day. People used to come here to learn about him, to dress like him, move like him. To be him. If that's not worship, I don't know what is."

"Wow. Tell me more about him, please. What was his name? Was he some sort of messiah?"

"Not a whole lot to tell. There were only a few books left in here when we found it, and those were rotted away. There were posters left that were pretty well preserved, which is how we know all this stuff was based on the same guy. The thing of it is, we don't even know what his name was. All the posters just refer to him as... 'The King'."

"Oh! So that's where you got the name from, right?" She smiled at herself for making the connection.

"Well that and the giant sign outside. This place could have been 'The King's House of Dog Chow' and I still would've taken the name. But I like to think I keep the memory alive."

"Wow. So, if this was a school, what was taught here, Mr. King, sir?"

"As far as we can tell, the guy that built this place was considered the coolest of the cool, and taught other people how to be more like him. People would come all around to learn how to sing, dance, dress, and even speak the way he did."

"So you act like this man, in his memory?"

"Somethin' like that, yeah. There were some workin' tapes here when we first got here, so we know what he sounded like. Sadly, they stopped workin' a few years back, so I sold 'em to a junk merchant who was passin' through, otherwise I'd play some for you. All the outfits you see my guys wearin' around were originally found in here too, along with more hair gel than you can shake a stick at."

"Wow. Um... What can you tell me about Pacer, sir?"

"Pace? He and I grew up together around here. We've been through a lot together, and there's no man I'd rather have at my side in a pinch. Don't judge him too harshly for tryin' to get some caps out of you. He probably took you for a squatter, lookin' for a place to settle down. There've been a lot of people movin' into the area lately, and it's got some people riled. Can't blame 'em myself. There's only so much to go around."

"Okay. Um... where did you get the cyberdog?"

"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."

"Um... is he okay? He seems a little... depressed..." She patted the cyberdog on the head. He only whimpered.

"He's been actin' peculiar for some time now. I took him to the Followers and had him checked out, and they said his brain is bad or somethin'."

"What? Is he going to be okay?"

"For now. But they said eventually, he's goin' to get worse. I don't know what to do."

"Can they do anything?"

"No, they said they don't have the tools to help him."

"Um... is there any way I can help?"

"I don't know. Maybe. 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."

"Okay. I'll see if I can help, Mr. King, sir."

XXXXXXXXXX

The group entered the Old Mormon Fort, Doctor Farkas directing them to a nearby tent. Three men were inside, one laying on a mattress, one standing on a mattress, and one sitting in a chair.

"What is it? Can't you see I wanna be left alone with my friend here?" the one sitting down told her. He was an older man, balding with white hair.

"Um... The King asked me to look into your attack, sir."

"Oh, that's different, then. How can I help? I'll do anything to get the bastards that did this." His tone was noticeably friendlier.

"Thank you. Um... What can you tell me about the attack?"

"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 is about as proud as a Local around here gets, and started yelling back at 'em. Then all hell broke loose. Kid got the worst of it, sad to say."

"I'm so sorry, sir... Um... Do you remember anything about the people who attacked you?"

"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."

"Okay. Thank you, sir. I'll go tell the King."

"I hope you find the bastards that did this. If you want, trying asking my friend Wayne over there about 'em. He saw more than I did." He turned to the man standing on his mattress. "Wayne, it's okay. The King sent her."

"That true? Did the King really send you?" he asked.

"He did. And anything you could tell me about what happened might help, sir."

"I don't really know what else I can add. They were a bunch a guys. Better dressed than most Freesiders, I guess. That help?"

The Courier nodded, smiling up at him. "Every bit helps. Thank you."

"Sorry I couldn't help more, especially since you're being so nice... Hey, wait! I just remembered something. I might of 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. Now that I think of it, he said 'Lou-something'. Something with a 'T'. Tenant! That's what he called him. Lou Tenant."

"He probably said 'lieutenant', Wayne." The older man interjected. "The boy means well, but he's dumb as a mutant sometimes. Anyway, tell the King we thank him for lookin' out for us."

XXXXXXXXXX

The Courier returned to the King with the news. "Have you found somethin' yet?" he asked. The Courier would have sat down next to him, but Pacer was in that chair, glaring daggers at her.

"Um... The Local men were attacked by soldiers." She fidgeted nervously under Pacer's hostile gaze. "O-One of them was identified by rank."

"Bunch a soldier boys, huh? They usually don't come around these parts since their big base is on the other side a the Strip. If they're comin' over here now, it's gotta be for a reason. I didn't wanna believe the rumors that they're lookin' to take over Vegas, but now... If something big is goin' 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 Old 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'."

XXXXXXXXXX

The group made their way backto the Old Mormon Fort, finding Julie Farkas overseeing the coordination and distribution of the supplies they brought in.

"Um... Doctor Farkas!" The Courier called. The Followers administrator looked up from her clipboard as the Courier ran over.

"Always good to see our newest member. And hello to you too, Arcade. Need anything?"

"Um... We were wondering if you knew anything about NCR soldiers in Freeside, Doctor Farkas, ma'am."

"Only a little. A friend of mine, Major Elizabeth Kieran, has been handing out supplies to the poor a little west of here. What about it?"

"Um... The King thinks those troops have been attacking Locals, ma'am."

"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."

"Okay. Thanks so much, Doctor Farkas!"

"It's no trouble."

XXXXXXXXXX

Well, first they needed a password to get into the ruined store acting as the supply relief station. They made their way to the Squatter area of Freeside to see if they could find anyone with the password. The stopped by the spot where they found Grecks, but he was gone, and in his place was a man in a leather vest and red sweater.

"You look like people in need of a good meal. You wouldn't happen to be NCR citizens, would you?"

"Um... Y-Yes we are?" Crap, Kaya! You're a bad liar!

"Now, it's not that I don't believe you, but I'm going to have to give you all a little quiz to verify your citizenship status. That okay with you?"

Neiila giggled. "Lay it on us!"

"That's a good attitude! I'm sure you'll do fine. These are just a few questions that just about anyone in the NCR would know. Alright, he we go. First question. Who was the most popular president in NCR history? Peterson, Tibbett, Kimball, or Tandi?"

The Courier panicked. Crap, crap, crap! Stupid amnesia! She barely knew anything about the NCR aside from what others had told her.

"President Tandi." The Courier looked to the source of the voice to see Boone had stepped forward. That's right! He was an NCR soldier!

"Uh huh. Okay, second question. What was the original name of the NCR capital? Aradesh, Shady Sands, the Boneyard, or Vault Thirteen?"

"Shady Sands." Boone answered again. The Courier looked up at him, her eye big and doe-like with gratitude.

"Right. Fine then, last question. What animal is on the NCR's flag? A two-headed bear, an eagle, a two-headed snake, or a two-tailed lion?"

"A two-headed bear." the sniper answered. The Courier felt the urge to hug him. Why was it that he kept pulling her out of jams? She felt a blush creep to her cheeks.

"Good. You passed with flying colors. I told you it'd be fine. I expect you're wanting to know about that meal then, huh? We're located up by the old train station, in the northwest part of town. Just tell the guards 'hope' and they'll let you through. Best of luck to you."

"Thank you, sir!" The Courier called as they turned to leave.

"Skynet is impressed with the sniper's knowledge."

"I was an NCR country boy. They drill those things into you from the moment you start school."

"Well, I think you're amazing, Boone!" The Courier hugged him. The sniper didn't hug back. He only looked extremely uncomfortable.

XXXXXXXXXX

They said the password 'Hope' to the guards out front of the ruined store, and they let them right in. The Courier entered and was surprised to see a whole line of people, presumably NCR Squatters, lined up in front of a counter covered with food. They approached a woman behind the counter.

"Welcome." she said. "There's food and water here for any citizen of the NCR. Please, have some."

"Um... Th-That's okay. We just ate at the Atomic Wrangler. Uh... A-Are you Elizabeth Kieran?"

"Yes. I'm a major in the supply corps. Which is where this food and water comes from."

"Do you serve food to Locals, too?"

"No, I'm afraid we don't. Do you have a friend you wanted to bring in?"

"Um... No, but why don't you serve Locals, Major Kieran, ma'am?"

"That's not really a pleasant topic of conversation. Let's just say we have our reasons."

"Um... Julie Farkas told me to ask. She... She said it was important."

"You know Julie? Not everyone in the NCR sees eye-to-eye with the Followers, but they're okay in my book, mostly because of her." The Courier smiled. "If you really want to know, we sent an envoy to the King, offering to coordinate the relief effort."

"Um... What happened?"

"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. But that's all in the past now. I should get back to work. Say hi to Julie for me."

XXXXXXXXXX

Well, they best report to the King. As the Courier entered the King's School of Impersonation, Pacer ran right past her and out the door, nearly knocking her over. She recovered and headed to the stage area to talk to the King.

"You find out somethin' about them soldier boys yet?"

"Um... The NCR is distributing supplies in a building down by the old train station, sir."

"Handin' out supplies? Like food and stuff? That ain't nothin' to get ruffled over. You find anythin' else?"

"Um... They're only handing out supplies to NCR citizens, sir."

"Ah, that would explain the goons. They're here to keep people like my friends away from the food. That ain't somethin' I support. No sir."

"But, um... They said someone was sent to discuss the issue with you, Mr. King, sir."

"Wait a minute, wait a minute. They said what?"
"Uh... They said the man was attacked, severely beaten, and driven off before he could arrive. He barely survived..."

"Huh, that would explain why they're all riled at us. Seems like we have a big misunderst-" A Kings member burst through the door, running up to the King. "What the hell?"

"King! We've got problems!"

"Lay it on me. What's goin' on?"

"There's a shoot out goin' down over at the train station. It's Pacer and some strangers. Might be the NCR."

The King turned to the Courier, who stood up straight at attention. "What is that fool doin'? I need you to head out there and try to defuse the situation. Tell them I'm willin' to cooperate."

"Yes sir!" The Courier turned and ran out of the building at top speed. She passed her companions waiting outside.

"Wait! Courier! What's the hurry?" Veronica called after her.

"There's something going on at the train station! Wait here for me!"

The group looked to each other, then nodded in understanding. They took off after her, though she was getting farther and farther out of reach given the speed difference.

XXXXXXXXXX

She came upon the train station to find several Kings members shooting at the NCR supply corps soldiers. As she ran in, a soldier stopped her.

"You there, keep your hands where we can see them! Draw a weapon and we will fire!"

"I don't have a weapon, I just need to get in there!" She passed him, running in to find Major Kieran.

"This isn't really a good time. What did you want?" she asked.

"Stop! The King wants to help with the relief effort!" The Courier cried to her.

"Like he helped the envoy we sent? Ah ha ha. No thanks."

"That wasn't him! He didn't even know the envoy was sent!"

"Then he should watch his back." She thrust a finger into the Courier's shoulder. "We know for a fact that the envoy made it to their headquarters. Still, if the King's willing to deal with us, perhaps we can work something out. I'll tell my men to stand down."

"Thank you so much!" The Courier ran to Pacer, to find another King talking about something with him from behind the cover of a bus station. He turned to her when she ran up.

"The King just sent a messenger over, sayin' these guys are off-limits. He's probably already heard about what you did here." He crossed his arms. "Looks like you get to be a hero. Enjoy it while it lasts." The Courier swallowed hard.

Her companions soon arrived to find the situation successfully defused. "Huh. Guess our little Courier didn't need us after all." Cass mused.

"I'll say. Next time I'm just goin' to wait at the bar." Rocket complained.

XXXXXXXXXX

The Courier returned to the King's School of Impersonation, stepping in to find the King sitting in his usual spot. She took a seat at the table with him.

"I heard about what happened. Maybe it's time for a little more talkin' and a little less fightin'." She smiled, happy for the King. "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-"

"I want to join the Kings!"

The entire room turned to look at her after that loud outburst. She was even standing on her chair. Blushing, she sat back down and placed her hands in her lap, her gaze directed downward. "Um... Please?"

"Normally, we don't let outsiders join, and you'd be the first female King ever, but I think I can make an exception in your case. From this day forward, you're one of us. And no one in Freeside will mess with you if they know what's good for them. In addition, if you want to do something about that hair of yours, talk to Sergio. I'll let him know you're comin'. Perhaps more importantly, you've earned the right to wear somethin' a little more stylish. Here, wear it proudly."

He gestured to a Kings member nearby, who ran off, returning with some jeans and a leather jacket.

The Courier smiled a big smile. Yay for her! "Thank you so much, Mr. King, sir! I won't let you down!"

"Go ahead. Try it on."

"Um... Y-You mean... here?" She blushed.

"Oh. Right. Well, I guess you can change in the other room."

The Courier gave a sigh of relief.

XXXXXXXXXX

When she left the hallway, it seemed the jeans and boots fit great, but... the jacket wouldn't zip over her ridiculous breasts! Sigh... stupid boobs. Various Kings members whistled when she walked into the room, her hands folded behind her back and gazing downward in embarrassment.

"Well, don't you look like the coolest of cool, Miss Courier." The King praised, making the Courier blush. "Now, if you need a trim, go see Sergio. He's our resident hairdresser."

Nodding, she stepped back into the hall, a Kings member directing her into a room lined with vanities. A Kings member in jeans and a white shirt was there cutting another King's hair with a pair of scissors in each hand. "Um... A-Are you Sergio?"

"Shush shush shush! No interruptions! The Kings' hair must be perfect!"

"Um... Okay..." She waited until he was done and the Kings member left before she stepped up. "Ah, you come to me a King yourself! It would be an honor for me to do your hair! That is why you're here, yes?"

"Um... Y-Yes."

He directed her to sit in front of one of the vanities. "Wonderful! Then let's begin making a whole new you!"

She sat down. "Um... J-Just a trim please, Mr. Sergio, sir."

"Ah! You wound me! You simply must let me have a whole styling go at it sometime!"

"Um... M-Maybe someday, Mr. Sergio, sir."

XXXXXXXXXX

When she stepped out of the King's School of Impersonation, her companions looked to her with various amused or surprised expressions. Jeans, boots, a leather jacket, even more cleavage than her prospector dress, and her hair just about an inch shorter. Yes, she had definitely joined the Kings.

"Please stop staring..." the Courier mumbled, causing the group to look anywhere but at her.

"Um... We need to head to the Old Mormon Fort to see Julie Farkas about the King's dog, Rex."

"Whatever you say, Boss." Raul responded.

XXXXXXXXXX

"Doctor Farkas!"

Julie turned to the group as they entered, the Courier running up to her in... a Kings jacket? Left mostly open... Wow, she didn't think a single bra in the world could hinder that kind of anatomical motion. "Always good to see you, Courier. Need something?"

"Um... The King said you could tell me more about his cyberdog, Doctor Farkas."

"Rex? It breaks my heart every time I see him. He's such a good dog."

"The King brought him here for treatment, then?"

"Yes, a few months ago. We had to tell him there was nothing we could do."

"So you can't heal him?"

"No, Rex's condition is way beyond anything we can handle. He requires brain surgery, and some sophisticated cybernetics work, too."

"So... There's no chance he'll ever get better?" She felt like she was about to cry.

"I didn't say that. While no one here has that kind of expertise, I do know of one man who might fit the bill. There's an old scientist named Doctor Henry who reportedly specializes in this sort of procedure. He's probably your best bet. Last I heard, he was living up in Jacobstown, far to the northwest."

"Thanks so much, Doctor Farkas! You've been so much help!" She lunged forward and hugged her. Julie only patted her on the back, smiling down at her.

XXXXXXXXXX

The Courier returned to the King to find Pacer back at his side, glaring daggers at her. His eyes widened when he saw her wearing a Kings outfit, barely repressed rage boiling up within him. He got up and left, likely wanting to get out of there before he blew up in front of the King.

"Things have been a lot better since you helped with those soldier boys." The King told her. "Thanks again. So, what can I do for you?"

"Um... Doctor Farkas says there'sa doctor in Jacobstown that can treat Rex, Mr. King, sir."

"She said what? Why didn't she just say so when I was there? Actually, come to think of it, I was pretty angry when I went down there. I vaguely recall somethin' about upendin' a few tables, maybe knockin' out one of her doctors. Anyway, that's incredible news! Only thing is, there's too much goin' on around here for me to make a trip like that, and I need all of my guys just to keep things settled here. You seem to be awfully interested in my boy Rex here. And you've done some good work for me already. I'll tell you what. You promise to get Rexie here to that doctor, and I'll lend him to you. What do you say?"

"Absolutely! I'll see that he gets better, Mr. King, sir."

"I can't thank you enough. Now, there's a few things you should know about ol' Rex here, if you're goin' to be travelin' together. First, he hates rats. Can't stand the things. Giant rats, mole rats, pig rats, doesn't matter. He catches a whiff of one and he's off like a shot after 'em. He's normally pretty obedient, but you might have to chase him some if he goes after the little varmints. Second, he doesn't like hats, or the people wearin' them. Don't ask. I have no idea why. Maybe because it rhymes with 'rats'. That should be it, though. Other than the occasional bad spot when his brain starts hurtin' him, that is, but I'm hopin' you'll see to that. I wish you both luck. Take care of my Rex now, y'hear?" The King turned to Rex. "Rex, this is your new master. Protect her, as you would me." The cyberdog barked in response, making the Courier giggle.

XXXXXXXXXX

The moment she left the King's School of Impersonation, the cyberdog began growling at Boone, Cass, Veronica, Raul, and Neiila.

"What's with the mutt?" Rocket asked.

"Isn't that the King's cyberdog?" Arcade pointed out.

"Why is he growling at us?"

"Oh, right. He doesn't like people with hats. Guys, think you could take off your hats, please?"

"No." Boone, Cass, Veronica, and Neiila all said at once. Raul was the only one who complied, slipping off his green head wrap. Huh. He still had a mustache, but not a single hair was on his head.

"Okay, Boone, I know you never take off your beret anyway. Neiila I know you're an... um... you have a deformity you need to hide. But really Cass? Really Veronica?"

"Hey, this is my favorite hat. In fact, it's my only hat. People can recognize me a mile away by this hat and that's when they hide or step out of the way. I have a rep to uphold."

"And you, Veronica? Why the hood?"

"Um..." the scribe fidgeted uncomfortably. "I... can't take off my hood."

"Why not?" Arcade asked.

"Um... It's my hair."

"What's wrong with your hair?" Boone asked.

"I just... I don't like it."

"What? Too long? Too short?" Raul questioned.

"No, I just... don't like it..."

Wait... that blush on her cheeks... her fidgeting hands. Her demure posture... She wasn't ashamed of her hair. She was shy about it! "Uh, let's just drop it, guys." She turned to Cass and Boone. "I'll tell you later. Let's just say I can relate to her right now." She whispered to the two. They nodded in understanding.

The Courier turned to Rex. "I-It's okay, Rex. Settle down! We're all on the same side now."

To her surprise, the cyberdog actually stopped growling and started panting, wagging his tail. She was deeply surprised that had worked.

"Listen, guys. Tomorrow we need to take Rex to Jacobstown to see the doctor there. Okay?"

Rocket sighed. "Another detour for charity work? Ya gotta be kiddin' me."

"Oh, yeah! Hey, Courier. While you were gone, Simon stopped by looking for you." Veronica told her. "Said to stop by the Silver Rush for a big job."

"Really? Um... Okay. Let's head for the Atomic Wrangler. I need to change clothes. Can you guys watch Rex while I'm there?"

"Whatever you say, Boss."

XXXXXXXXXX

The Courier, back in her prospector dress, stepped into the Silver Rush, where the guards directed her to Gloria behind the counter.

"Good. You're here." The woman greeted her. "Do you remember that package I had you deliver? Well, the client liked the sample and put in a massive order. It's possibly the biggest order we've ever supplied. I've had to repeatedly assure my mother that everything will go smoothly. And that's where I'm hoping you'll come in. We'll be bringing an escort, and I want you on it. What do you say?"

The Courier nodded. "Count me in, Ms. Van Graff, ma'am."

"Perfect. We're still getting everything together, but I can always find a use for idle hands in the meantime. Once we're settled, we'll head out to the rendezvous point."

XXXXXXXXXX

Dressed in armor and wielding a laser rifle, the Courier was led with the group of Van Graff guards to a warehouse in outer Vegas. To her surprise, men in Legion armor were waiting for them. She said nothing, though, standing aside with the other guards while Gloria discusses the deal with the head of the Legion party. After a while, the woman walked up to her.

"They're taking an awfully long time inspecting the weapons. I'm beginning to think they're doing it just to unnerve us. Don't let them rattle you, though. The deal's almost done. There's just one last piece of business left. Speaking of which, I need you to listen to me very carefully. Things are about to get a little crazy. When I give the signal, follow my lead, okay?"

The Courier said nothing, but nodded.

"That's what I like about you. You follow orders, for the most part. Just remember to wait for the signal." Gloria turned and stepped back over to the head of the Legion party, his face hidden behind a feathered Decanus helmet. "I trust you find everything acceptable?" she asked him.

"Everything seems to be in order. Caesar will not soon forget this."

"No. I imagine he won't."

A tiny tremor shook the building, knocking some dust from the ceiling. The doors of the warehouse opened, NCR troopers flooding out.

"It's a trap! Fall back!" the Legion squad leader ordered. He fell to the ground soon after from a laser to the head from Jean-Baptiste.

"The commander is down. Kill the rest." Gloria calmly ordered.

The Courier only stood there, shocked. This entire deal was an NCR set up? Didn't the Van Graffs hate the NCR? Shaking the thoughts from her head, the Courier tossed her laser rifle aside and dashed into the fray, nailing a Legionary in the head with a flying kick. She ran to another and gave him an uppercut in the jaw, snapping his neck back. The soldiers and Van Graff guards had the rest covered, but there was one more. She ran forward and tackled him to the ground, punching him square in the face. A soldier ran over and shot him in the head to finish him off. Panting, she returned to Gloria, bewildered.

"Good job. I need to work out some last-minute details with our new clients, but after that we'll head back to the Rush."

XXXXXXXXXX

They returned to the Silver Rush, where the Courier was directed behind the counter. She waited patiently while Gloria spoke with her brother Jean-Batiste. Eventually, she turned around to speak to the Courier.

"I suppose you have a few questions."

"Um... Yeah... What... What exactly happened back there?"

"We made a lot of money, that's what. The Legion paid us to deliver weapons, and the NCR paid us to deliver the Legion. Some of them, anyway. Caesar has been making overtures to prominent suppliers for some time now. Usually, they're too scared of him to cross him, and just pay or flee. I saw an opportunity, and negotiated a deal with the NCR. I help draw some of their enemy's troops into a trap, and they agree to buy from me. Normally, those stuck-up bastards wouldn't have anything to do with us. But their situation is precarious, and this chance was too tempting."

"But... I thought you hated the NCR."

"Oh, I do. They're a bunch of corrupt, bullying fools who think they can tell everyone how to live their lives, and my family's fought them for years." The malice in her voice sent a shiver up the Courier's spine. "But that's just it. Do you know how large the NCR army is? If they wanted to, they could've beaten us a dozen times over. Do you know why they haven't? Money. Every time things have gotten too tense, we've paid them off and laid low for a while. They're an enemy we can live with. This Caesar, on the other hand, is a different animal. We've heard reports for years from our agents to the east. He doesn't tolerate his enemies, he makes examples of them. And he doesn't have friends. Only servants. And the Van Graffs serve no one but themselves. Given that, the choice was rather simple."

"Um... Does that mean the Van Graffs are allied with the NCR now?"

"Well... not exactly. The deal wasn't exactly sanctioned with my mother, but she'll come around when she hears about the profit I made. If she's smart, and she is, believe me, she'll turn this to her own advantage and make a bundle off our new 'connections' in the NCR."

"Okay. So... what will you do now, Ms. Van Graff?"

"It'll be all I can do to supply the NCR with the amount of weapons they want, so I'll be pretty busy for the foreseeable future. Oh, you're probably wondering if you still have a job. I don't have anything open at the moment, sadly. But we're going to need all the help we can get transporting guns to the NCR, so stop by every now and then and I might have a delivery job for you. And before I forget, here's your share of the take from the warehouse job. You can keep the armor. Thanks again for all your help."

The woman handed the Courier a bag with one thousand caps! But the Courier was more excited about the armor.

"Really? I can keep the armor? Thank you so much! It's nearly impossible to find clothes in my size." She reached out to hug the woman, but she merely flicked her on the forehead.

"Hug me... and you'll regret it."

"Um... Okay…"

All that was left was a night at the Atomic Wrangler and heading to Jacobstown...

XXXXXXXXXX

1. The bacon comes from Pig Rats. Pig Rats are like Mole Rats, but with much more pig-like features, like a cross between a pig and a rat, and actually have good meat unlike Mole Rats. The eggs, of course, came from Wasteland Penguins.

2. Why didn't Jean-Batiste ask to see Cass? Because Cass hasn't sold Cassidy Caravans. X3

3. Bit of a plug. Be sure to read Chris the Cat's deceptively titled "Fallout: New Vegas The Story", and SakuraSan101's "Blue Moon: The Alessa Grant Chronicles". Both official recommendations from myself and both are fanfics just getting off their feet, so best start now so you won't have to read a lot later. ;3

4. Before I go, know that I'm officially taking suggestions for the Courier's surname. Just in case you forgot, since it doesn't come up much, her given name is Kaya, as suggested by my wonderful beta reader, InfiniteDragon.