Another intersection found the team at a pit stop. This time, they found themselves at a boarded-up old gas station that had been converted into an outpost, from the looks of things. Mercenaries patrolled the entryway into the small gated compound with AK rifles, the best of their kind, on their backs. 5,45 AK-74s and other such designs. One would hazard a guess this is where the Raiders they fought had gotten their kit from.
The Courier left everyone outside this time, entering the store with the AK on his back, only to find walls lined with what looked like modern weaponry from the Old World(all worn by the weather and the likes) plus newly-manufactured items. The walls also had posters with cyrillic writing and pictures of the rifles and weapons on display, from instructions on how to disassemble and clean the old workhorse rifles, to bayonet types and attachments one could buy for them.
Sat behind a table, an AK with worn black plastic furniture by her side, a young woman with shoulder-length, flowing scarlet hair and blue eyes looked to the Courier. She was wearing a tank top and desert camouflage pants, as well as combat boots and an ammo bandolier. She smiled at the Courier, waving off the bodyguard on her right, then spoke with a heavy Russian accent "Welcome! Greetings and hello, traveler. Welcome to my shop. My name is Nat and I'll be your provider of standard ammunition and weaponry from the good old Motherland."
"Hey there." The Courier waved, noticing that she, too, had a Pip-Boy of an older model on her left hand, "Name's Sam."
"Glad to meet you, Sam. Please, take a seat while we do business." The woman leaned over to shake his hand. The man gripped, shook, then sat himself down opposite of her. She proudly said, "I see you have one of my appliances. She treat you well, or was your first meeting with her a few 7,62 rounds too close to an unfortunate end?" seemingly recognizing the numbers of the weapon.
"Some raiders took a few potshots at me with her, but I and my friends beat them back. That was a couple of hours ago." He smirked, then patted the rifle on the folded stock, "She's been with me since."
"Believe me or not, I recognize the serial number." Nat smirked, "I was there when she was first made, like with much of my merchandise. I was not here, however, when some fuckers popped in and stole her."
"Ah, so you didn't sell the rifle to them, huh?" He asked. The woman shook her head.
"I can tell people apart, Sam. You'll never see me selling to raiders. People wanting a little more protection for their trip over to or out of the Strip? Yes. People like you? Mmm... Maybe." The woman explained, waving to the bodyguard to go get them something. Presumably to drink, going by where the man walked off to:the back of the counter. She talked on, "You look like you have a lot of blood to spill."
"You wouldn't be completely wrong." The Courier answered sharply, "Going to see someone who damn near gave me a lobotomy."
"Oooh. Damn. Mistaken or...?" She raised a brow, then chuckled as she saw the shake of the head, "Right, so on purpose. Means of said lobotomy look like a couple of 9mm rounds to the skull. I'm staring at you and I can see the faintest pair of holes in your forehead, but the doctor that fixed you up did a good job... So... You found the weapon on the fuckers that stole it?"
"I'd think so, yeah." Sam nodded, "Killed almost all of them, too."
"Good. A few less scumbags walking around the Mojave." Nat offered, "I see you've got one of these." And she waved her Pip-Boy hand, "And going by how it's acting, someone else in your party does too... So, for the sake of having a fellow sufferer of the VaultTec toy brand called Pip-Boys, I may just give you a discount. You got the old girl from those fuckers, so I'll let you keep her. If you need her or any other gun from me repaired, provided you buy'em, I'll be glad to do it. And I presume you want ammo?"
"Need it, more-like, but yeah." The Courier noted, "How much for some boxes of it and some mags?"
"300 caps for a 7,62 ammo box of 700 rounds. 5 caps per empty mag." The girl offered.
"Any chance to lower the prices?" He asked, "I'm still kinda short on account of taking a couple rounds to the noggin."
She chuckled, "Hard bargain and a little cheap tug at the heartstrings, but okay. I can do 250 for the ammo box and 3 for the mags for now, but that's the lowest I'm going."
The Courier took out a purse of caps he still had with him, sliding them on the table. He said "I'll take a box of rounds and 5 extra mags. Mind me asking where you got your Pip-Boy from, Nat?"
The girl spoke, counting the caps, "My father lived in a Vault a couple hundred miles west. With other important Soviet immigrants' grandchildren. Thanks to that, I befriended the Kalashnikov Family's youngest daughter. She carried the secrets of Andrei Kalashnikov's own process of creation with her as has her mother and her mother before her... And to say we were good friends would be an understatement worth your weight in caps."
"Neat... Okay. One more question." The Courier started as the woman slid him the ammo box full of 7,62 and the five empty magazines. He started loading the mags, both the new ones and the ones they nabbed off of the dead raiders as the girl gave him a nod to go on, both of them being handed aluminum cups with a questionably clear liquid. Calmly, he asked, "How did you even get them built? This stuff doesn't look like it's hand-crafted."
She grinned, then said "I have a contract with the Gun Runners. Provided I give them rights to sell the surplus guns from the manufacturing process at cheaper prices, which means weaker guns, I get a section of their factory dedicated to building these babies. Everything from SVD Dragunov copies to the famed AS VAL, used by the glorious Spetsnaz troopers of the Old World. You want Old World weaponry that works well? You come to me."
"Nice." The Courier grinned back, "Sounds lucrative."
"Oh, it is. Even if the NCR won't adopt the AKs in favor of keeping the old AR-15 platform." The girl nodded, "Thanks for your business, tavarisch. Hope to see you again soon, if you need good guns."
He finished loading up the mags and slotted them into a few pouches around his belt, before grabbing the left-over ammunition with the box and tossing it in his backpack. He nodded to her, then said "If business is as good as today, I may just become a loyal customer." and he picked up the cup, downing its contents, only to realize too late that this was some sort of moonshine or alcohol. Very strong at that.
He choked, damn near coughing, before saying "Christ, what is that?" as the girl laughed.
"It's vodka, Sam. Locally-brewed from only the best potatoes... Slight radioactivity included." She quipped and winked, then added "Say hello to the man who put two 9mils in your skull for me, alright? Maybe test the 7,62 rounds I gave you on his own head."
"Will do." He grinned back, before stepping out into the sunlight. Turning to his team, he saw Willow, Lunette and Hope playing Caravan. Well, more like Hope was kicking the two girls' asses. Beside them, Noble and Veronica watched the game unfold. He approached the latter two of the group, then said "Strange place for a weapons store, don't'cha think?"
"If it's here, it means the road ahead must be fairly... Dangerous." The Spartan noted.
"It really all old world weapons from the Soviet Union?" Veronica asked, "I heard of Nat's Store before, but I never came to visit... On account of Raiders, I guess."
"Yup. All Kalashnikovs or Kalash pattern rifles." The man nodded. He leaned against the wall and asked, "So, who's winning?"
"Well, Hope's cleaning Lun and Willow of money." Veronica chuckled, "It's kind of brutal."
The Courier and the girl chuckled, watching how Lun damn near threw the cards out before he finally decided it was time to end the game. The team packed up their kit, the two beaten players of Caravan reluctantly, before taking off. Atop the roof of the repurposed gas station, Nat sat with her Dragunov rifle, watching them as they vanished behind the sand dunes down the road, heading toward the jungle of steel and concrete that was Vegas.
She set the scoped rifle down, before picking up her cup of Vodka and murmuring to herself in Russian, "Be seeing you soon enough, Sam..." as she took a sip of the drink. She coughed, then snorted. That was the good stuff... With the Courier Crew, the team was already moving toward Vegas again. The trip was peaceful for its duration. The team found themselves reaching Vegas's outskirts near the time the sun started to set.
Sam noticed Lunette was working on her Pip-Boy, so he fell a bit behind to talk to her. He greeted "Hey."
"Hey." She smiled, looking to him, before turning back to fiddling with the device.
"How is the merging going?" He asked.
"It's going well, actually." She smiled.
"Happy to hear. We may find that GECK yet." He noted. The two looked to the Spartan once more, before the Courier hummed. They'd really ditched the chatter about him already? Even the other two didn't say another thing. Admittedly, the Spartan had told them to ditch it too. Probably a good idea to listen to the man whose explanation you laughed off. Still, the Courier didn't know what to think of it. He didn't want to entertain the idea of what he said being true.
Lunette, however ,seemed slightly more keen on it as she spoke "You think he told the truth too, don't you?"
"Jury's still out on that one for me." He answered, "Not sure why, but I think it's the same for Hope... And maybe Veronica."
"Well..." Lun sighed, "We still don't know each-other all that well. Any of us. A little bit of mistrust is normal, I guess, but outright denying what he told us so certainly? I'm feeling like we didn't listen well enough..."
"Lunette, I don't think any of us want to believe that... In some other realm that he comes from, mankind did better than it did here. Enough so that Earth is probably still whole wherever he came from, with no nukes having been dropped." He explained, letting out a deep sigh afterward. "I don't know what it is... Something, something doesn't add up. He mentioned enemies, but never said what took him out..."
"Yeah... Whatever it was, if it's true, I hope we never meet them." The girl voiced, sighing.
"And the camouflage..." The Courier murmured, "He said he got it from one of them."
"... The active camouflage net? He said he grabbed it off one of his foes?" The girl seemed shocked. The Courier nodded, murmuring to himself something about a more advanced Stealth Boy as they continued. Ahead of them, the massive husks of the highways that once led into and out of Vegas welcomed them. They passed down into the suburban area of the city, moving past the farms owned by the NCR and several dozen scratch-built houses, past a kiosk of the Gun Runners, the massive company that Nat had mentioned to the Courier in passing. The Kiosk was staffed by a reprogrammed Protectron and a man working at a reloading bench.
The team then waded toward a gate ahead of them. The sign above read Freeside in neon-colored lights. To their left, a bunch of guys resembling Elvis clones sat, each of them either bearing an AR-15 platform weapon or an AK as their weapon of choice. The gate slid open, allowing entry to the squadron, their dog and the floating, armored Eye-Bot beside them.
Willow whistled as the gang saw the squalor of the area. Broken buildings, looking as if everything was stripped off of them by the Nuclear detonations around the city, sat. Broken husks, littered with the poor and hungry. To their left, the Spartan recognized the Old Mormon Fort. They'd also passed by the McCarran airport before entering 'Freeside'. It'd been reinforced.
Some of the locals eyed the group as Willow said "Man, this place is a dump..." in a murmur.
"Whilst I agree, let's not say that to these peoples' faces, alright?" Veronica noted, "I'd rather not have to fight anyone yet."
The Courier chuckled while the group continued past the Old Mormon Fort and into the second area of Freeside, past store criers and those living below the poverty line here around Vegas. They passed by what was called the 'Kings' School of Impersonation'. A man in another Elvis outfit and hairdo sat, leaned against the wall there, smoking a cig. He smirked and nodded to them as they passed. That was the least touched building in the entire area. They looked to the right, to see two more signs. 'The Atomic Wrangler' and 'The Silver Rush'. The latter had a guard in black armor and with an energy weapon, from what Noble could see.
The Mojave Radio station played from a radio to their right, where some people sat and talked. And ahead, they could see it. The massive gate leading to the strip, with the towering Lucky 38 to the left, just behind the heavily-reinforced walls. Several robots, units moving on one large wheel, with tubular arms that had three fingers and weapons, all attached to a large, armored body that had a black-and-white screen at the front, showing 'soldier' faces.
"Hey, folks, hold it up." A dark-skinned man in a suit said, "Don't rush the gate... Talk to the greeter, too, unless you wanna get killed."
And indeed, they watched as a local from Freeside charged the gate, angrily yelling at the bots as they warned him. The moment he got close enough to the gate, he took several bullets from the Mechs. Everyone winced, watching the poor sod drop to the floor. The Securitron 'leading' the patrol turned to face the Courier as he approached calmly, then said "Please, halt. Present either your passport or a sum of 2000 caps or above for entry."
"... Oh, shit..." The Courier checked his pockets. Pulling out his cap purse, he looked over. He gritted his teeth, then said "Dammit..." before walking away. He asked "Any of you girls got extra caps? I barely got a thousand here."
"Nope..." All girls chorused. The Courier rolled his eyes, then looked to the Spartan, whom shook his head. The Courier sighed, sliding the purse back into his pockets and looked to the guy who told them about the Bots.
"Hey, pal. Thanks for the warning back there." He said.
"My pleasure, folks." The man smiled, "I see you ain't got enough money to get in, though."
"Nope... Any ideas where someone could get work?" He asked.
"Well... There's always the Crimson Caravan just due East of here. It's about a 10 minute walk from the gate you came through to them." The unknown man explained, "Otherwise, maybe look with the NCR Folks or the Kings."
"Right... Thanks." The Courier nodded. He sighed, crossing his arms, then said "Guess I'm gonna go to the Crimson Caravan. You can probably hang out around their camp until I come back from whatever job they're sending me to do."
"I think I'll join you." Lunette spoke, "Remember, we need to stick close for the merging to happen."
"Right, right." The Courier nodded, "C'mon, then."
After bidding goodbye to the man, the team had gathered up, exited Freeside and went exactly the way they were directed. The Crimson Caravan branch in the area was in a reinforced compound, presumably from the old military. Entering it, the team found two huts, another exit/entrance dead ahead, a brahmin pen on the right and a small kiosk for supplies. The Courier showed the team to wait right there while he went to talk to the local employees. The Spartan leaned against the wall next to the gate, looking around at the locals, guards included.
The others set themselves up in front of him, with Lunette quickly following the Courier while the other three, their dog and Eye-Bot sat down. Well, the organics. The Eye-Bot beeped happily, approaching the Spartan while they waited. The place was calm, with the locals talking, drinking and laughing together, while either tending to brahmin or just walking. The Lieutenant leaned his head back against the wall, staring up at the yellowish sky of the Mojave and realized that night was falling.
Inside the main office of the Crimson Caravan branch, the Courier and Lunette found themselves staring at a spacious hut with a terminal and comfy chair to the left, a corner desk to the right, a few couches and a series of file cabinets. The old woman sat at the desk wore a black suit, with a red tie and a skirt. She seemed friendly, the Courier thought to himself with sarcasm as he approached.
"Hello." The woman said, looking up at the man and his partner, before saying "Can I help you?"
"Yeah, hi." The Courier nodded, "I'm Sam... I came looking for some work. Any you need done?"
A faint smile appeared on the elder woman's face as she said "Well, it's lucky you wound up here, young man. I do need work done and you look... Well, trustworthy enough to accomplish it. I presume I can depend on you to do it, right?"
"Yes, ma'am. I'm a Courier." The man responded, smirking. She nodded.
"Well, mister Sam, my name is Alice McLafferty. I run the Crimson Caravan and, as you can see, I am currently focused on bringing the Vegas branch of the Company back into shape. It's quite fortunate, indeed, that you showed up, as I've said. I can't do all the work of fixing this branch's profit margins with other work occupying my time... As a test of faith, I need you to do something."
"Go ahead." He nodded. The woman opened a drawer under her desk, took out a piece of paper and handed it to the Courier.
"I need you to deliver this invoice to doctor Hildern, at Camp McCarran." She said, turning to her Terminal and typing in data, "If you finish this, which I don't doubt you can, since it is a delivery job, I will require your assistance in other matters."
"Right, then." The man nodded, "I'll be back after I give the doc the invoice. C'mon, Lunette."
As the two left the main office, Lunette looked to him, then asked "You think the cash we get here will be enough to get us onto the Strip? And what'll we do once we get there?"
"Well, for starters, I have to go visit the place I was supposed to be delivering the chip to. Presumably, Victor will show us where to go, since he is what he is:A securitron." The Courier remarked as the two marched toward the squad, "Then... Well, we'll go to the Tops if and when we have time. Though I'd like to get a few things done before we go to face Benny..."
"Right." The girl nodded.
As the two passed the rest of the gang, the Courier said to them "Wait here for a few. We'll get the cash and then we'll head on out, alright?"
Noble nodded, "I'll keep an eye on them."
"Thanks, man." Sam smiled. The two left the camp, turning toward Camp McCarran and marching toward it, past the Gun Runners again and the NCR Sharecropper Farms. The massive, fortified structure that was McCarran had walls lined with guard towers occupied by snipers and a series of sandbag walls in front of the main gate, guarded by NCR Infantry. Entering through the gate after a Trooper let them through, the two came upon the massive courtyard and the terminal to the right.
The Courtyard itself was occupied by a few dozen military tents, training areas, barricades, shooting ranges and security checkpoints as far as the eye could see(which was the other side of the wall). Lunette stared at the military presence, watching as soldiers in full kit ran in formation, around the perimeter of the main camp. They moved past them, toward the Terminal building, entering through one of the many doors. The Terminal itself was massive, with an old military jet hanging above the entrance, where a guard stood watch from behind a sandbag wall. Behind said guard were rows of One-Armed Bandits and other gambling machines.
They stopped to ask the trooper for directions to Hildern's lab and he pointed them out to the back, behind the south-eastern escalator. The two thanked the trooper, going together toward the room. Lunette looked around, then said "I've never seen so many soldiers in one place since the Enclave showed up..."
"Well, unlike with the Enclave, these folks are on our side." The Courier remarked.
"Think they're the best pick?" Lunette raised a brow.
The Courier nodded, then said "Well... Let's see who else there is... The despot in the Lucky 38 that we know as Mister House, an enigmatic guy who would rule the place with an iron fist as he has until now, someone taking over for House with no guarantee they won't be worse... Or Caesar's Legion, a bunch of slavers whose entire nation was built on subjugation of the 'weaker tribes'. The NCR may be corrupt, even I heard of that, but at least that can change with the new generations. Think of it this way, it's between despots and a country that at least pretends to care about its people..."
Lunette actually admired someone who seemed staunch in his beliefs. Especially since he seemed to want the best for the Mojave. She smiled, then said "You make a very convincing point, my good sir." And she chuckled, "Let's go get this Invoice delivered." as they entered the small backroom laboratory, catching a glimpse of a black-haired woman working on machines and computers, as well as of chemistry sets.
Entering the back room, the two found a man in a labcoat standing near by a series of drawers with files. He turned to see the Courier and Lunette, then smiled "Ah, hello. You must be here about the mission." before showing the two to come in. The Courier and Lunette exchanged a look, then the man shook his head and pulled out the invoice that McLafferty had handed him.
"Not really... Miss McLafferty told me to hand this to doctor Hildern... That you?" Sam asked, extending the file.
"Ah, yes." He nodded, taking the paper, "Alice is punctual as always... Thank you."
"... So... Mission? I may be interested." The Courier raised a brow.
"Ah! Wonderful! Have you signed the release forms? Ah, doesn't matter-we'll keep that to ourselves. Anyways... Vault 22, where to begin... Imagine if you will, the wasteland in bloom. Vast fields of corn that grow from seeds and produce their bounty within the span of a single month. Orchards of trees, their branches weighed half-way to the ground by fat, ripe oranges. A harvest that could feed a city... Or a nation. And all of this, requiring no more than a few drops of precious water and the efforts of only a handful of human farmers. Impossible?"
"Nothing's really impossible..." The Courier noted, looking to an awed Lunette, before turning back.
"Exactly! Science has proven that truth a dozen times over, but how many wasteland savages believe it, present company excepted, of course?" He explained welcomingly to the both of them. "The bounty I describe to you is no fantasy. It exists in primitive form, only a few miles from where we stand. We need only reach out and unlock its secrets. For that, the OSI needs you."
"... Go on. We're listening." Lunette joined in.
"Good! I thought I sensed kindred souls within both of you, beneath the wasteland veneer. I believe the inhabitants of Vault 22 unlocked the secret of vegetation growth. Plants have sprouted and are spreading at the entrance to the Vault. No one tends to them, no one waters them, yet they still multiply and spread in all directions. Find the reason for this miraculous growth and I assure you the OSI will see that you are generously compensated."
"... Alright. We'll get to it as soon as we can." The Courier explained.
"Good. Very good." Hildern nodded, "No need to check in with NCR Authorities, I can authorize your payment from OSI accounts. Vaults usually contain a mainframe within the lower levels. Reach it and download the data on one of your Pip-Boys, then return to me for your payment. That is, whenever you are able to. The contract is now yours." The man nodded. The two were in a hurry, enough so that they didn't feel the need to ask anything. After bidding goodbye to the doctor, the two stepped out in the main part of the lab. The woman at the counters stopped them.
"Did doctor Hildern... This isn't really any of my business, but did doctor Hildern just tell you about a job?" She asked. The Courier read her name on her pocket. Angela Williams. He hummed, then nodded.
"Yeah." He said.
"Why?" Lunette raised a brow, crossing her arms.
"... I really shouldn't say anything, but you have to know you aren't the first he's sent out to Vault 22." She whispered, "There were a lot of other mercs. One after another... None came back. Then, about a week ago, there was a scientist. Keely. She's unusual, not the sort of person you'd expect, but she's an absolute genius... And... He didn't mention her? Not even by name? Nor the other mercs?"
"Nope..." The two voiced at the same time... Williams sighed.
"Well... That can only mean only two things. Either Hildern's heard back from Keely and she failed, or..." She shook off the thought, then said with determination in her eyes, "Listen. I make a fair wage, but I'm not rich. Maybe I don't have the type of money that would interest your average merc. But I'm willing to pay you if you find Keely and make sure she's safe... Ain't right leaving her out there, no idea if she's alive or dead."
The Courier didn't even skip a beat in saying, "We'll find her and send her home if she's alive." not noticing the look and the smile Lunette gave him. Williams nodded, smiling too.
"Had a good feeling the moment I saw you two walk in... I mean it." Williams said.
"We'll be going now." The Courier returned, "And we'll get to the Vault ASAP... C'mon, Lun."
"Right behind you." The girl smiled, watching the man walk out. Williams chuckled and Lunette looked to her, asking "Something up?"
"No, it's just... That look you gave him." The woman spoke, getting a confused look from the girl. She waved her off, chuckling and turning back to her work, leaving a confused Lunette to follow after the Courier. She walked in-step with Sam, close by his side as the two moved out of the building, out of McCarran and back toward the Crimson Caravan.
On the way, she said "So... We really gonna trust Hildern?"
"Pfft. No." The Courier snorted, "But... Money is money. That and finding Keely would just ease consciences."
The girl chuckled, "Right..." As her mind wandered. Sam was not a bad guy, not by a long shot. If a little fixated on revenge, he was kind and welcoming. That was from first impressions alone. The two entered the camp, passed by the gang again as night started to fall, then entered the main room just as McLafferty was leaving. The Courier nodded to the woman.
"Hildern's invoice got to him." He said.
"Very good." McLafferty nodded back, "I think you're good for more serious work. I have three more jobs that need doing. One would be finding miss Rose of Sharon Cassidy and convincing her to sell her Caravan. I found that buying competitors eases the stress and gives us a better profit margin in the long run, than outright fighting them off the market, but miss Cassidy has been awfully uncooperative. The second job would be finding one mister Jamison and convincing him to retire from his job here at the Crimson Caravan... And the third would require you to steal the schematics for weaponry from the Gun Runners' factory."
"Okay... One and two I can do, but I don't do number 3. Corporate espionage ain't my shtick." The Courier spoke.
"That's understandable. What about the other two? Which one will you take first" Alice asked.
"... I think I can divide them between me and one of my friends. I'll take the buyout." The Courier smirked, "And my friend may just intimidate your pal, Jamison, out of the job... Speaking of, is he the reason you're around?"
"Perceptive. I usually run work from the company headquarters back west, but the New Vegas branch has sadly been underperforming, thanks to the fact I was basically strongarmed into putting mister Jamison in a position of power here. He's more interested in whores, booze and gambling than making a profit, but his father is part of the Council... Not much one can do about that."
"Alright..." The Courier nodded, "We'll get to it, then. Where would one find Jamison?"
"Presumably in Freeside, at the Atomic Wrangler, since it is the cheapest place... Miss Cassidy can be found at the Mojave Outpost, before you inquire." The woman sighed, "Farewell."
He looked to Lunette and asked "You alright to go on a trip to the Outpost?"
"Eh, what's a few more hours of walking, right?" The girl shrugged, a smile on her face. Right. The two walked out of the office, walked to the gang and met up with the Spartan. Quickly, the Courier explained to Noble what needed to be done and, without a second to pause, Willow wanted to tag along and help. Intimidation tactics and a buyout. The Spartan clearly didn't see himself doing actual business like this at any time in his life. But, with a sigh, he resigned himself to it... The four departed the camp, with Veronica left in charge of Hope, ED-E and JT.
The Spartan and Willow marched back into Freeside, moving toward the Wrangler at best speed with their weapons at the ready. Entering the establishment, he felt the scent of cheap booze and sweat even through his helmet's filters. He asked at the bar counter for the man he was out for and wasp ointed toward one of the gambling machines. He approached the playing man, then asked "Jamison?" as his hand hovered over his handgun.
"Fuck off, can't you see I'm busy?" The man answered with a growl, turning back to the game. The feeling of cold steel against the back of his head, however, got him to reconsider his words. He spoke "H-Hey, pal... C'mon... I was just fuckin' with you." and whimpered, "Please don't shoot..." as the place's guards seemed to hesitate in helping the patron. The Spartan thumbed the safety of his pistol, sliding it back onto his thigh, before turning Jamison around.
He leaned toward the man, his visor polarized to the maximum as he said "Alice McLafferty told us you ain't doing your job, pal. I wanted to talk to you about quitting."
"... I don't think I can do that, man... I got into some trouble with the Omertas and I need to get the money soon, or I'll be a dead man before I even manage to set foot in the Outpost..." The man defended himself. The Spartan hummed, then looked to Willow, who sat there, staring at the exchange. He turned back to the fearful man. He scoured through one of his back pouches.
"How much do you owe them?" He asked, pulling a purse of caps out.
"... 'Bout 500 caps?" He said.
"You leave the Caravan, the money's yours." The Spartan explained.
"Oh, fuck yes." He nodded "Tell that old bitch that I quit! I'll be leaving as soon as I pay the Omertas back and you won't have to see my ass around anymore."
"Good..." Noble nodded, handing the cash to the man. He turned to Willow and showed the smiling blonde to follow. The girl put her sunglasses on, grinning as they left the establishment, under the glares of the guards. They returned through Freeside and to the camp of the Crimson Caravan with little issue, sitting themselves back down in their little corner.
"Nice work out there." Willow complimented.
"You did well yourself..." The Spartan remarked.
"Standing around looking like a menacing little girl, yeah." Chuckled the blonde, "Thanks anyways. Think Sam and Lun are gonna be alright?"
"Why?" The Spartan raised a brow.
"... Had a run-in with the girl they're supposed to buy from. Cass." She awkwardly laughed, rubbing the back of her neck "Was not exactly a pretty meeting, seeing as I bumped into her and spilled a bit of her Whiskey..."
... Oh. That kind of girl.
The Courier and Lunette had travelled until the sun barely crested the edge of the horizon. The two had stopped for a short nap near Nat's store, before continuing on to finally reach the outpost itself. Perched on a hill, between the mountains and rock faces of Mojave and right at the border that separated the NCR and Long 15 from the Mojave itself, the outpost was an old checkpoint, rebuilt and repurposed by the NCR forces as the last line of defense before their home country. The road up the hill was littered with the broken-down wrecks of pre-war vehicles, most of which had been stripped bare.
Entering the Outpost and heading for the Barracks, a route with which the Courier was familiar, having cleared the path for the Ranger on station, the two came upon the bar. A young woman in a leather jacket, flannel shirt, torn jeans, cowboy boots and hat, turned to them as they approached. She murmured a drunken "Lookin' for trouble?", several empty bottles of whiskey around her... And another half-empty in her hand.
"Nope. You Rose of Sharon Cassidy?" He asked.
"That's the name, yes." She answered, turning to face him. The Courier smirked.
"A pleasure to meet you. Name's Sam and this is Lunette." He motioned to the girl beside him.
"Hi." Lun waved.
"Right... Hello." Cass nodded, then asked with snark "You two here for any particular reason, or just to keep me from my Whiskey?"
"Alice McLafferty sent me to buy your Caravan from you." The Courier hummed, "Everything alright?"
"That old coot?" Cass scoffed, "No, nothing's alright, pal... Doesn't she know that Cassidy Caravans was burned to the ground?"
"What?" Lun gasped.
"Yeah. Hit them when they were setting camp, probably. Burned everything, didn't even take the Cargo... And I can't even fucking go there to see for myself because the Caravan papers are keeping me here." She growled, "Fuckin' ranger Jackson. 'The roads aren't safe', he says... No shit, you washed-out old fuckup, it's why I'm here in the first place... Christ..."
"That's awful..." Lunette murmured, sitting herself down at the bar. "We're sorry to hear."
"I cleared the roads out of the Outpost a while back." The Courier remarked, leaning against the bar. The redhead Cassidy smirked.
"Did you, now? Huh, fuckin' look at that." She noted snidely, "Not really gonna help at all, since I'm still hanging out to dry thanks to the papers."
"Wouldn't selling the Caravan free you?" The Courier remarked, "McLafferty mentioned you're a bit hardheaded about it."
"Of course I am." Cass remarked, "Would you sell your name to the highest bidder if it brought you some caps?" She looked the Courier right in the eyes, her cheeks tinted red from the Whiskey. She took another swig from the bottle. She noticed the curious look of the Courier. He'd also say no to that, of course, but still, she explained "I think my father would turn in his grave, wherever that is, if I just up and sold the Caravan. It may be just the name that's left, but dammit, it is what it is..."
"Ah..." The Courier sighed, "I like the sentiment, Cass, but look at it this way. Until something happens that lets you get out of this place, you're stuck here, drowning your sorrows in..." He counted the bottles, including the ones on the floor, "About a dozen bottles of Whiskey extra. This way, you can get out of the Outpost and find out what the hell happened to your Caravan."
The woman looked at him and her hard, red expression softened for a moment. With a sigh, the woman resigned, saying "I guess you're right... Least I could do for the guys I hired is find out what happened... And find the person to charge guilty for it... Alright, fuck it... Hand the papers over. I'll sign them." and she took them from the Courier, pulling a pen from her breast pocket and signing the item. She handed the papers back to the Courier, then said "There..."
"What now?" He asked.
"Now? Fuck if I know... I may just go visit the place where they got hit." The girl sighed, stumbling to her feet, "After? Well, whatever happens, happens..."
"Hmm..." The Courier hummed, "I know this may sound stupid coming from me, but how about you join me and my little party? We're out and about in the Mojave and each of us has a bit of a bone to pick with something or other, or a piece of tech to find." He looked to Lunette, who smiled and nodded approvingly, before both turned to Cass. The girl hummed...
Then she snorted, "Travel with you?" and thought for a mo... "Eh, why the hell not? Beats staying in this bar and drying it to the point the tender has to prop me back up into my chair. Let's get moving, shall we?" and she took the double-barrel Caravan shotgun beside the stool. Lun stood to her feet too, smiling from ear to ear as they walked out of the place. As they left and moved down the hill, Cass stopped the two by saying "Hey, you two. Can I ask you something before we head out to pick the rest of your gang up?"
"Sure. Shoot." Sam nodded.
"... Can we stop by the site? I... Want to assess the damages and pay my respects to the folks." She sighed, "I got them into this mess by hiring them. Least I could do, as I said.."
"I think that was already in the books. Wasn't it?" He looked to Lunette, who nodded her approval again, a smile on her face. Cass hummed, looking to her two new partners and forced herself not to actually smile too much. The trio started their journey again, marching toward the site of the ambush. The road just due south-east of New Vegas, below some of the broken overpasses and buildings was the site. A pack Brahmin lay dead, multiple burns and deep, cauterized gashes in its side. Around, piles of still-hot ash sat, pushed around by the winds. The carts of the Caravan were empty, overturned and burned and the few human corpses still whole had massive burn marks all across.
Cass scoffed, approaching one of the piles of ash and taking a knee beside it, while Lunette spoke softly, "Oh, no..."
The Courier hummed, then remarked "Looks like energy weapons..."
"They didn't take anything... All of it is just... Burned. Doesn't feel right" Cass sighed, standing up, "Something's fucked here..." She turned to the Courier, "... But... I'm not sure what. I know of a couple more Caravans that reported similar attacks. You mind if we hit them up when we're around their general area?" She asked, "Maybe it'll give us an idea of what the hell even happened."
"Fine by me." He nodded, "We've got a few objectives to accomplish, so we'll be getting around the Mojave a lot. Just let us know when we should take a detour to check the Caravan ambush spots."
"Right, then." Cass nodded, "Let's go get the rest of your gang and that money that McLafferty owes you."
After a short while, the Courier and his two companions re-entered the compound, with the former turning to Noble, who gave him a simple nod, confirming the job was done. Veronica smirked, noticing the new member of the gang while Willow's heart seemingly skipped a beat. Veronica, wearing a sly grin on her face, joked "And I am no longer the newest member of the Harem." as she looked to the other girls, both of whose faces grew absolutely red. She giggled, then looked to the Spartan as she pet JT and ED-E, adding "You alright there, Noble?"
"... A few too many people, I'm thinking." He said, staring at Cass, "But alas..."
"Hey, more meat for the grinder, right?" The girl shot back rather darkly, "Oh, wow, did you people already affect me? Never had that dark a humor before."
At that, Noble actually snorted, "Sure... Sure..." before straightening up. He followed the trio as they entered McLafferty's office. Inside, the Courier approached the main desk, where Alice was sat, working away on her computer. She looked over toward them, holding back a smug smile as she was handed the papers, signed and penned by the very woman sitting before her.
"Ah, miss Cassidy." Alice said with a faked politeness, "It's been a while?"
"Certainly not enough for me, Alice." The woman shot back, glaring at her, "Hell, I don't think seeing you dead would be enough."
"Oh, miss Cassidy, please, no need for the hostility. It's just business, after all." The woman punctuated the latter sentence rather heavily as she looked at the papers. Cass rolled her eyes, looking to the Courier while Alice gave the once-over. The Caravan boss nodded, "All of it is in order and we received Jamison's resignation not too long ago. The man didn't even wait for his compensation, he just up and left... You and your team are quite good, mister Sam, I'll give you that. Here's the payment... And double that as a bonus, for the rapidity with which you've done the required jobs."
She handed him another thousand caps aside from the 500 she would've first given him. The Courier tipped his hat, then said "A pleasure doing business with ya, miss McLafferty..." before he and the other two left. He murmured to himself, "Something just ain't sitting right with me, though..." then turned to Cass and said "She tryin' to buy you out for a while?"
"Ever since Cassidy Caravans formed." The girl shrugged, "Why?"
"Just asking..." He said, "They known for shady business practices?"
"Biggest caravan house this side of the Colorado. I'd say so. You don't grow as big without some shady shit helping along." Cass nodded, "Where to now, by the way?"
The Courier hummed, then replied with an absent look in his eyes "We're gonna visit the guy who gave me my job... We're going to the Strip." to which Cass grinned. The Courier took off ahead, leaving Lunette and Cass alone for a moment, enough so that the redhead turned to the girl to give her a once-over. Calmly, the two continued to walk to the group...
Cass asked "So... What's the guy's story?"
Lunette slightly jumped at that, feeling for her heartbeat. Cass said "Easy. Not gonna hurt you, Lun. Just asking for convenience's sake."
"Sam? He's a Courier." The girl explained, "Or... Well... Was. According to him, he took two to the head."
"Two... What... Bat hits?" Cass seemed confused and frightened of finding out the answer, but she'd asked anyway.
"... Bullets." Lunette replied with a more grim look on her face. Cass winced, then looked over to the Courier.
"... That'd explain that look in his eyes... How the hell is he still alive?"
"Don't know, but I'd like to think we're lucky he is... Even if we've all barely known each-other for less than a couple days total. He and David, the big fellow in the Power Armor, agreed to help us solve our own problems. For me, it's finding a GECK, for Hope, it's a plant, an Orchid... For Willow it was helping her out and now she's part of the gang, so on, so forth..." Lunette explained, "And for you, I guess it's the investigation into your and other Caravans'... Untimely deaths."
Cass hummed, then smirked "I see. Well, I think I'll get along just fine with the lot of you... As for Willow, the poor girl caught me in one of my worse-off moments, just so you know. I don't wanna scare her, but I'm not sure how she'd react to me talking to her as normal."
"Did you yell at her?" Lun asked.
"Actually..." Cass's face turned a slightly brighter shade of red than before as she winced "I may have been close to putting the two barrels of my shotgun in her face... Thankfully, I, with the assistance of a local NCR MP, stopped myself from doing any permanent damage, though I guess the image of a drunkard coming at you with both fists and damn ready to blow your head off over some Whiskey ain't gonna go away soon..."
Lunette winced too, then said "I'm... Sure she'll forgive you if you explain the situation to her. Willow doesn't look the type to hold a grudge... She does seem the type to be permanently scared of someone she doesn't know, though..."
"Especially when said someone almost threw down with her." Cass finished the unspoken sentence, "Got it... I'll see about chatting with her about it later. What's the big guy's story?"
"David? He's... Well, he says he's an elite supersoldier from an alternate future..." Lun chuckled awkwardly, "I think we can tell you the story once we get to the group..." and Cass gave her an incredulous look. Now, that one seemed like bullshit from multiple angles, but if the girl looked at the soldier properly, yeah, no, she could definitely see the Future Soldier shtick. Especially the Power Armor that looked nothing like what you'd see in Pre-War ads, or on NCR Heavy Troopers. The two finally joined up with the rest of the gang and began introductions. Before long, Cass found herself chatting with both Hope and Veronica more, while Lun talked up Willow about her.
The two boys, meanwhile, seemed to be talking about their upcoming tasks. Both were serious-looking, separated from the rest of the group for the moment and planning the next phase of their work. First, they'd meet the man who hired the Courier, whom, if either of their Gut Feelings was right, was probably someone of high importance in New Vegas, going by Victor's few, cryptic words.
Eitherway, next target was the Strip.