Just finished this chapter earlier this morning. Meant to have it finished Thursday night, but I went to watch The Hobbit...it's pretty damn good. I really enjoyed it.

I'm kind of going back and forth on some things with my writing lately. I kind of feel like I've lost that spark that really made the earlier chapters stand out. But maybe not...maybe I'm just fretting over nothing.

Anyway, enjoy.


Sweat accumulated along the brim of his helmet, across brow and trickled down his face; carving fissures in ages of dust and mud. Motionless – statuesque – he stood, staring down the barrel of his rifle. Smoke seeped from the end and the distinct smell of gunpowder filled the air. He peered down the sights, into the darkness, past the intruders that had invaded his humble abode, and at the cave wall; decorated in cave paintings, some of which he'd made himself, and now – a neat little hole in the sandstone.

Six peered over his shoulder at the point of impact – where the bullet had struck the cave wall. Melissa stepped forward, slowly – when Oscar made no move to harm her, she reached out. Gently, she pressed the barrel of the rifle groundwards. "That's it…easy." She turned towards the group – towards Boone – who's hand now rested on the butt of his pistol. "It's okay…"

"You weren't there…" Oscar spoke in murmurs. "You didn't see what they did…"

"They didn't do anything…" she told him, keeping her voice reassuring. "They weren't part of Bitter Springs." A lie, of course; but for good reason.

"They're First Recon," Oscar's words were more an accusation than a statement. "They were there."

"First Recon goes through a lot of members," she responded. "Manny was First Recon too…he wasn't there." Again, she gently pressed the rifle groundwards – this time he didn't resist.

"No," Boone shook his head. He stepped towards the man, simultaneously securing his sidearm snugly in its holster. "That's not the truth."

Melissa shot him a look – one that told him to shut the fuck up; one that he ignored.

"I was there…" he confessed.

"And you've paid your dues," Six barked.

"That's not for you to decide," Boone's gaze was locked on to Oscar's. He raised his hands into the air.

Oscar felt a scowl creeping over his face – he turned towards Melissa, then back to the man in the red beret: this "Boone". He pulled up on his rifle, but Melissa held on steadfast.

"Oscar."

He paid her no mind – his heart was racing. His breaths were shallow and rapid. Every fiber of his being ached with a thirst that only blood could quench. This man…this monster…he needed to die. Oscar was practically fuming; he pulled on his rifle again, ripping it from Melissa's grasp.

"Oscar!" Melissa's voice cut through him like a frigid breeze, "I don't want there to be any confusion about this. If you shoot this man, it's going to play out one of two ways. You're either going to kill me with him, or you will not leave this cave alive."

Immediately, he felt his scowl vanish – he felt his anger fade. His face twisted with confusion and concern. "Mel…I'd never…I took care of you. Your mother…" he stammered, searching for words to say.

"Then do this for her," she released his rifle. "Do it for me."

He stared at her a long moment – then looked back at the gruff NCR man. "I sure hope you know what you're doin', sweetheart."


Graham lifted the young man to his feet. "You're lucky I happened by when I did." He examined the man's uniform, he was a scout. Graham recognized the uniform well. He glanced at the ranger's name tag – Bryce Anders. "You're NCR. What are you doing out here?"

"Forgive me, sir." The soldier apologized, "I appreciate what you did for me, but I don't know you…and I don't feel inclined to share privileged information…"

"Oh, I trust you've heard of me," Graham laughed. "I'm an independent contractor…I work for the head of the Strip."

"You're Six? Excuse me, sir! I didn't…I didn't imagine you anything like this."

"You're referencing the bandages?"

"Yes, sir."

"…I intend to infiltrate Vault 3. I'm looking in on a missing person's case for the followers."

"Vault 3? It's a hornet's nest. Group of fiend's took up residence there…killed or absorbed the local populace."

"Absorbed?"

"Yeah…the ones that weren't murdered joined the fiends; if they were tough enough…or fucked up enough."

"Who are these fiends…how organized are they? Why hasn't the NCR moved in to eliminate them?"

Anders shook his head – Graham could tell he wasn't entirely sure of the answer himself. "Degenerates is what they are. Human garbage. They're always so strung out on chems…most of the time they don't even know when they've been hit. They're not particularly organized though. They're lead by a man named Motor Runner – but even his control is limited. Any one of them wouldd kill him for a shot of Med-X, if they could. He's about the only one left that can still rub two brain cells together. He used to have a few lieutenants, but from what I hear you took care of that already."

"Hm," Graham pressed his lips, but didn't disagree. It was fortunate that this man had never met Six…it made him far more cooperative to believe his own lie. So, Graham decided, I'll let him believe it.

"We don't have the man power to take them all out. There are scores of them. But, my C.O. figures that if we take out Motor Runner, they'll fall apart. Like I said, they're not particularly organized. You help me take him out…I'll help you find who you're looking for."

"Fair enough," Graham nodded. "Are you sure you're up to the task?"

"Yeah…took one to the leg, but I should be alright…give me a second…" Anders limped to one of the dead fiends. He searched through her pockets – finally withdrawing a small syringe. "Med-X…this should do the trick." He jammed the needle into his thigh and injected the contents through gritted teeth.

"That'll tide over the pain for now," Graham admitted. "But it's not going to help your leg. You shouldn't be moving about…"

"I'll be fine," Anders assured him. "Let's go."


"So, how'd you know him? The man in the cave?" Cass asked, perched next to a roaring fire – the flames tickled the cool air, stretching towards the starry sky. They had made their way back to the camp in Bitter Springs. Cass didn't like it here…it stunk of piss and vomit. Around her, in makeshift huts and tents, people lay in heaps – huddling together for warmth in the cool mountain air. A lot of tourists and travelers passed through these parts – they would always pack lightly. Rightly so…during the day, even in the winter months, the desert was a warm place to be. But then the night would roll in…it wasn't entirely uncommon to find people dead in this desert. Exposure to the elements could be harsh…and nature isn't very forgiving. This was particularly troublesome around Lake Mead. In the hot daylight hours, unwary travelers may go for a dip to cool off. You lose track of time…find yourself still in the water when the sun begins to set. If you weren't prepared or adept…it rarely ended well.

More than that, most of these refugees were starving or sick. Or both. It was no wonder the camp's flag was upside down.

"Oscar? My mother…" Melissa's voice cut through the night air – breaking Cass' concentration. "…she was a Khan. Killed here, from what I'm told. Buried in one of the mass graves over that ridge…" She glanced up towards Coyote Tail. "That's where they retreated to…didn't know what was waiting for them. Anyways, Oscar and her had a thing after my father left."

"And Boone was there. During the massacre," Saying it out loud seemed surreal. Cass just couldn't imagine Boone having been part of what went down here at Bitter Springs. Everything that she knew about the man said he was just – he was a good person. And what happened here was anything but that.

"Yeah…" She trailed off.

"Seems to have done a number on him."

"You have no idea," Melissa laughed – it was a shallow laugh, uncomfortable.

"You're okay with that?"

"With what?"

"Him being involved with Bitter Springs?" Cass clarified.

"Oh," Melissa picked up a branch and poked the fire, moving the kindling and ash about. "I mean…I don't like it. But people make mistakes. Besides, it wasn't his fault. Not really." She glanced across the camp – at the two men in red berets sitting atop a ramshackle structure of tin sheets and old wooden planks. "He was following orders."

"Is there something going on between you two?" Cass asked, candidly.

"What? No…we just…I barely know the man."

"I mean, I understand why…he's a handsome man. Silent strong type…mysterious," Cass smiled flippantly, "…kind of thing that makes a girl fawn over him. When I first met him, I kind of wanted to jump his bones."

"Wouldn't matter either way. Khan and NCR…how would that even work?"

Cass shrugged. "Maybe it wouldn't. But maybe it would."

"It wouldn't."

"Unless it did," Cass got the feeling that Melissa was ill at ease – she didn't like this topic. "So," Cass asked – changing the subject. "How'd you meet Six?"

This, Melissa seemed far more comfortable with. "Met him the same time I met soldier boy…they helped me out in the Quarry. Well…we helped each other out really."

"Yeah? How?"

"Deathclaws. Loads of 'em. Mother and an Alpha too."

"Fuck me… what'd he do?"

"Blew the bitch up with a mininuke…threw it at 'em. Soldier boy shot it in midair."

Laughing, Cass took off her hat and sat it alongside her. "Yeah…he's a resourceful one. And Boone's a helluva shot."

"Yeah, he is. What about you? How long have you two been together?"

"Six and I? Few months now we've been traveling together; we met…"

"No, I mean, how long have you two been together?"

"Oh…" Cass smiled, lightly blushing. "On and off again for almost as long."

"He really cares about you, you know?"

"Yeah…he has a funny way of showing it sometimes. But he's always there when I need him." Cass let her gaze wander to the duo as well – sitting up on that rickety shack. "What about you? Anyone special in your life?" Other than the obvious, Cass wanted to add.

No answer – not with her mouth. But her eyes…her eyes told a different story.

"Can't help who you love," Cass told her, returning her gaze to the flames.

Across the camp, Six adjusted the scope on his holorifle, then took a long drag of a cigarette. "You know…you should see about getting a night vision scope."

Boone shrugged. "I can see well enough."

"Wouldn't hurt though, right?"

"I suppose."

"I was talking to that woman…fuck's sake…the captain in the camp? What was her name?"

"Gilles."

"Yeah. Well, she said the infirmary needed some supplies. And some of these patients need psychiatric help as much as medical. I'm going to talk to Arcade…see if the followers can help."

"Probably a good idea."

Twisting his lips into a ball, Six sat his rifle down across his lap. He looked over at the man he considered to be his best friend – the red beret snug against his scalp; his shades folded and hanging loosely from the bandolier draped around his torso.

Boone stared off into the night – looked out across vast distances, his mind wandering with his eyes.

"She's pretty," Six said, after sitting in silence for a while.

"Who?"

"Who do you think?"

Boone grunted.

"You know, when we were in Zion…I half expected you to want to stay. With that girl…Kurisu?"

"Kurisu."

"Yeah. You two really seemed to hit it off."

"She was a kid."

"Right. You're what? Twenty-four? Twenty-five?"

"Twenty-six."

"And she was what? Seventeen?"

"Something like that."

"Not that big a deal in the grand scheme of things. Cass is a bit older than I am."

"Not the same."

"So her age is the only reason you didn't stay?"

Boone shrugged and continued to stare off into that void.

"You and Melissa seem to get along nicely."

For the first time since they had gotten there, Boone's concentration broke long enough to glance over his shoulder. "Doesn't matter. She's a Khan. Khan's don't associate with NCR."

"Seems to me she was 'sociating with you just fine. Who knows? Maybe one day you two will get married."

"My wife's dead."

"Let me ask you this, Boone," Six spun around, crossing his legs and leaning towards his comrade. "Why'd you marry Carla?"

Second time. Boone glared at Six through the darkness. "I loved her."

"And what does that mean, exactly? To love someone?"

Back his eyes went – peering into never-ending darkness.

"Know what I think it is? I think it's a load of bullshit. Compromise. Sacrifice. All this give, give, give. Then there's always that risk you'll turn around one day and they're fucking gone." He snapped his fingers and waved his hand. "You lose everything. And it's not worth it. You know? That pain. Like searing needles and broken bones," he took a drag of his cigarette and held his breath a moment, staring up into the night sky, then exhaled. "Vulnerability is what it is. Something someone can take advantage of. Bend you to their will. Send you off to do impossible things because if you don't you'll lose everything. Or one day you wake up and you're sixty – and you'd be lucky to make it that far. And the goddamn wasteland rips them out from under you. And you lose everything. Just opening that door risks everything. But there's this…this common ground with it all, right? What you're always risking. What you always lose. Everything. Because that's what love is. It's everything."

"Seems that the common ground is that no matter what you do, you're going to lose everything."

"Well…yeah. I mean. You can fight a lot of wars. You can win a lot of fights. But you can't beat death. All of us die…eventually."

"So if you're going to just lose it all, what's the point?"

"Well, the way I see it, you're going to lose it anyway. Either you give it up before you ever have a chance to lose it…or you have it for a while and you lose it. So, what I figure is…why not enjoy it while you have it? I don't know if the New Canaanites or Bright's group knows what they're talking about with some notion of a Great Beyond or some afterlife. But we're here now. And it sucks. So why not try to make it a little bit better? Take a risk. Fall in love."

"I've been in love."

"Let me ask you this then…how did Carla feel about you?"

Another glare.

"Did she love you?"

"We loved each other."

"And what would you give to have her back here tonight? For her to be alive and happy? Anything? Everything, right?"

Boone grimaced.

"Right?"

"Right."

"And what about her? What do you think she'd give up for your happiness? Anything? Everything?"

No answer.

"I'm not wrong, Boone. You know I'm not. And part of anything? Part of everything? That includes letting go…when the time comes. You don't have to be alone. Hell, you're not alone."

"Shut up."

"I'm serious."

"No, shut up…" Boone stood. "Do you hear that?"

"Hear what?"

Boone peered through his scope, scanning the hills in the distance. "There. Movement."

"What?" Six fumbled with his holorifle, peering out into the distance. He could make them out – a sizeable force. Legion?

"Legion." Boone confirmed Six's thoughts. "A lot of them…" he turned towards Six. "You need to go. Warn Gilles. Get the refugees into the caves. Get Melissa and Cass out of here."

"What are you going to do? There's too many of them…"

He grasped Six's shoulders. "I've been waiting for this…I always knew this was how it was going to end." He sighed. "That day you showed up in Novac…I knew from the moment I saw you that I was supposed to go with you. That it was time for all of this to end."

"You can't hold them off by yourself…"

"And I can't ask you to stay."

"You don't need to ask."

"I don't want you here…I don't want them here." He pointed towards the girls sitting by the fire. "Now, go goddamnit," He shoved Six away. "Go! Make sure she gets out of here! Don't let anything happen to her!" He laid flat on his stomach, bringing the rifle into firing position. He took a breath – held it – and fired. The crack of the rifle echoed throughout the canyon. Mechanically, he readjusted his aim. Another breath – and he fired again.


As they neared the large mechanical door to Vault 3, Graham paused. He inspected the door and the control mechanism to the side.

"What's the plan?" Anders asked, joining him at his side. "This place is going to be crawling with those drugged out mother fuckers."

Graham casually glanced over his shoulder – he reached into his vest, withdrawing his silencer – he casually rolled the silencer between his fingers, attaching it to his .45 auto. "Before we go in here, I want you to know that should anything happen to you – I will finish this task. Motor Runner will fall. But I also want guarantees. Should I die today, you need to find the girl I'm looking for: Alice Hostetler. Return her to the Mormon Fort in Freeside. Find Julie Farkas…tell her of my departure."

Anders nodded. "So…how are we going to do this?"

"There is a time for subtlety. Just follow my lead…" Graham's heel found its way to the bullet wound in Ander's thigh – a fierce kick that brought the man to his knees. Graham scooped up his rifle and turned to the control mechanism; pressing a key.

A woman's voice answered – "Yeah?"

"My name is Joshua Graham. I am Legate of Ceasar's Legion. I have been sent on his behalf. He would like to negotiate with Motor Runner."

"Fucking Caesar? Are you serious?"

"Ceasar has seen your strength of character and will. The trouble you have dealt the NCR has proven fortuitous…I've discovered an NCR assassin in your midst. As a show of good faith, I wish to bring him to Motor Runner to dispose of personally."

"You mother…" Anders cursed through agonized moans.

Another swift kick silenced him.

Laughter. "Wow! Yeah!" The vault door began to groan and buzzing filled the air. A flashing yellow emergency light lit up the ruins.

When the vault door had opened enough, Graham grasped the NCR ranger by his collar and dragged him in. He dropped him on the floor in front of the woman guarding the entrance.

"Joshua fucking Graham…unbelievable. We've heard all about you. We thought Caesar cast you out of the Legion."

Graham laughed. "A ruse. So that I may infiltrate certain territories."

"Wow…A long plan in the making. All so you could get into Vegas?"

Another chuckle. "No, no…to get in here. You misunderstand. Being cast out of the Legion was not the ruse." His eyes grew cold. "Being sent on Caesar's behalf was."

The woman had time to widen her eyes before the bullet found its mark. The others drew their weapons, but were no match for Graham's speed and precision – the muffled sound of gunfire lost long before it reached the ears of the other vault inhabitants; the faint sound of bullet casings bouncing off the floor. When the entrance had been cleared, Graham dropped the NCR soldier's weapon to the ground.

"You said you were House's courier!" The man spat, taking aim at Graham.

"No. You assumed I was House's courier."

"You said you worked for the head of the Strip!"

"And I do."

Anders made his way to his feet. He pulled his rifle to his shoulder and readied it at Graham's head. "I should end you right now…"

"Perhaps," Graham stood; resolute and unblinking. "But, you gave me your word. If that is the decision you make, you must find Alice. You must return her to the Followers so that she may be reunited with her family."

"Who is this girl? Why do you care about her?"

"Bad men need nothing more to compass their ends, than that good men should look on and do nothing," Graham took a breath. "There are two types of evil in this world – sins of commission and sins of omission. The first, we are all familiar with – acting in such a manner that perpetuates or causes some harm to befall another. Acts of omission are every bit as common, but often overlooked: when one fails to act in a way that could prevent harm from befalling another. You can pull that trigger. But if you do not save the girl that I have come to find, then you are every bit as responsible for her death as you are mine."

Behind the sights of his rifle, Anders narrowed his eyes. He studied Graham for a moment – which, with a gun pointed at him, felt like an eternity. Finally, he lowered his rifle. "I can't believe I'm doing this but…let's go save that girl."

With a nod, Graham handed the man a magazine. "You'll need this."

Anders looked at it with bewilderment - it was the magazine from his rifle.

"Had you have pulled that trigger," Graham explained. "It would have been the last thing you'd ever done."


One; two; three; four; five – reload.

Peering through his scope he could see them pouring up the hill. Dozens of them. Why?

Why Bitter Springs? The refugees here were sick, malnourished – they'd be near useless as slaves. Strategically, this camp was a death trap. The Khans had found that out the hard way. And now, it seemed, the NCR was going to as well.

A karmic balance – Boone thought. He was here the night that the NCR murdered the Khans and took this canyon from them. It was only fitting he'd be here the night the Legion did the same to the NCR. He had warned Melissa…something was out there, and it was finally time to cash in.

These were low level Legionnaires though – or very high ranking Legionnaires. They had nothing with which to return fire...so either they weren't important enough to warrant firearms, or they were well trained without them. Boone had heard tales that Caesar had Praetorian Guards that specialized in hand to hand combat.

His guess was that it was some combination of the two.

He could see them swarming across the hill – lesser ranks taking the lead. Cannon fodder. Hounds with them.

He wouldn't have enough ammunition to hold them off.

Another reload.

They were closer now. He could hear them – every step they took. The rocks they kicked down the hill. The steady thump of feet hitting sand and stone.

And metal.

Boone rolled out of the way in time to see a ballistic fist slam into the tin roof. They had used the pass to get around behind him. He fumbled with the holster at his side – fighting to release his sidearm. The Legionnaire regained composure and stalked towards him, cracking his knuckles.

"For Caesar!"

Blood splattered Boone's face as the Legionnaire fell – a tire iron protruding through his chest. Behind the Legionnaire stood his salvation – she extended her hand.

"You thought you were going to have all the fun?" Melissa asked, a faint smile on her face. "Not a chance."

Over her shoulder, she could see the refugees in the town taking up arms – shovels, rakes, pipes, anything they could get their hands on. The soldiers – the few that remained in the canyon – had taken cover and were picking off the Legion as they made their way through the pass.

Further up the mountain, a blaring ball of blue-white light tore through the darkness.

"You didn't really think he was just going to leave you out here, did you?"

Boone sighed. "I don't know what I was expecting."

A grunt – the Legionnaire that had attacked him was still alive. Boone rolled him over. "He's alive."

Melissa drew her rifle, "So let's remedy that."

"No…not yet."


The camp was littered with bodies of the dead and dying. Six made his way casually through – putting an end to any Legionnaire that happened to be breathing. When he reached Boone, he found him knelt over a dying man. The man looked vaguely familiar; salt and pepper hair, matching beard.

As Six drew nearer, the man smiled, spitting up blood. "Courier Six…" he coughed. "There's the reason we're here."

"What?" Boone looked at Six then back towards the man. "What do you mean?"

"Caesar told you there would be repercussions for disloyalty."

"Lucius, right?" Six knelt beside him. "Caesar never had my loyalty."

"That much he is certain of. Where is Joshua Graham?"

Six curled his lip and shrugged. "No idea. How'd you know I was here?"

He coughed again as a laugh struggled to escape his throat. "The eyes of Caesar see all…"

"Then he should already know where Joshua is."

The man smiled. "What makes you think he doesn't? I was curious as to whether or not you know where he is."

"What does that mean?" Boone growled.

"It doesn't mean anything," Six answered for the dying man. "He's trying to spread discontent."

"Am I? You asked how we knew where to find you."

"Graham told you?" Boone's scowl deepened.

"Graham didn't tell him shit," Six spat. "Are you going to give me anything useful, or should we just kill you now?"

Another guttural laugh. "Caesar is displeased with the attack on the Cove. Your NCR will pay dearly for it – hope is lost. Within the fortnight, the dam will fall to the Legion. Caesar will rule New Vegas with an iron fist."

"Will he now?" Six nodded and took a breath, he placed his foot on the man's chest and unsheathed his machete. "Shame you won't be around to see it."

A single stroke saw the man's head severed from his body.

"How do you think he figured that hope is lost?" Cass asked – looking around the camp and the bodies of Legion men strewn throughout.

"We got lucky," Boone told her flatly. "Hope is lost…the NCR has a camp. Forlorn Hope."

"We should probably check it out," Six dropped the severed head to the ground.

"I'm just saying, we kicked their asses," Cass jibed.

"They had only two ways to get in...they were funneling in with no firearms. They split their group...lower level attacking from the front. A distraction...the Praetorian attacked from the side. Luckily, you all caught them. If it would have been anything more or if the Praetorian would have gotten through, we wouldn't have survived," Boone said, rubbing the stubble on his chin.

Six grasped the severed head by the hair and lifted it – staring into its eyes. "Two ways in…but when they attack the dam, they'll only have one."


So this ark with Graham searching for the girl will end next chapter. I want to integrate him more into the main story. There are a couple other things that I have planned for him to do though. So it'll probably be a little bit before I regroup him with everyone else. I feel like Graham is Six's left hand, where Boone is his right. Graham's going to do the jobs that Six doesn't think that Boone is up for.

My aim is to have the completed the Second Battle of Hoover Dam by the time classes start back up. But I don't think that's realistically going to happen. It's about seven chapters away, according to my outline. I might be able to pull it off though.

I really like Lucius in the game. He seems very honor driven...but, I thought to myself, if Caesar was going to send someone after Six, he'd send someone he knew he could trust.

I'll start working on the next chapter tonight at work - so long as it's not too busy. I'll try to have it posted by Tuesday morning. If I can manage two chapters a week, we'll be able to get to the Battle for sure. But that's a big if.

Leave me some encouragement. Hope everyone enjoyed this chapter.

Cheers.