Dear little brother,

Hey Conrad! It's your sister writing this! How are you doing? Life's treating you and Dad well back at Shady Sands? How's life for you and Dad? I gotta tell ya, the Mojave is a really… interesting place! I have gotten to talk to a few locals. One of them was from Vegas and he was quite charming, even if Emma disagreed on that!

Oh! Emma! You'd like her! She's a friend I made while training, and we've been sticking about since my deployment. The training may have been short… Just a bit, but thanks to Emma, I'm doing better at fighting!

…

"Alright! I'm going to punch you, again," Emma raised both arms, and Max chuckled nervously when she noticed how big they were. Not because of any particular attraction, but because she'd realized that there was a very big chance one of them could smack her right in the nose. And since the other soldiers were busy doing their own exercises, none could help. "I'm going to try to punch you and you'll parry. This means that you'll need to block until you see an opening and take it."

"I'll take my opening," Said Max, attempting her best to look fierce when her awakening had been very recent and devoid her of any food or drink that could hype her up. Nonetheless, she wasn't going to let such a trivial matter prevents her from fulfilling her duties! The young woman raised her two arms and hunkered down behind them, waiting for the attack. "I'm ready when you are!"

Emma stood still and her left hand jerked forward in a quick motion. Reacting quickly, Max swiftly moved her arm to hold the line, wincing in anticipation for the strike. Luckily for her arm, the punch did not connect. Unluckily for her face, the other punch connected: While her enemy was defending herself from a phantom strike that never happened, Emma had very quickly struck with the other arm, bypassing her defenses. Max's head pivoted to the left as the fist made contact with her cheek, causing her to spin around twice before dropping on her stomach, all but knocked out cold.

"Lightweight!" Emma chided.

...

Max rubbed her jaw, sorely missing a particularly unfortunate tooth lost to training, and continued on with her letter.

She's a Wastelands veteran. She's been to a lot of places, I think. Maybe she even went to the Boneyard like you! I've told her a little about you. But don't worry, I've kept your name a secret! I'm learning a lot of things thanks to her. I'm following her lead if you catch my drift.

Sometimes she's a bit of a dick.

Sometimes she's a bit rough but she cares about me, so it's fine. It's like how some mothers sometimes get stressed with their kids, they don't want them to be constantly tied to them, so they get a tad meaner to convince the kids to strike it out solo or learn not to constantly rely on them.

...

Max threw herself on her stomach and immediately rolled behind a nearby discarded wheel. Hearing an upcoming approach, the younger woman drew her service rifle and got up to "shoot", but froze slightly when she noticed that Emma was closer to her than she thought it was. The black-haired soldier, who had been standing on the other side of the training field seconds ago, had somehow managed to cross the distance separating her from Max in the time it took the latter to get behind cover!

Such swiftness proved too overwhelming to deal with. Before soon, a strong hand grabbed Max's throat and slammed her backward on the ground, knocking the gun out of her hands with the sheer suddenness of the impact. Any harder thought the NCR native, and she'd be fighting the rest of the war on a wheelchair! But as it stood, Emma in the simulation was more interested in putting her in a coffin, drawing an invisible knife to immediately stab Max's torso over and over for a solid three seconds!

The fight was over by this point, and Max conceded defeat by simply laying down in wait, but this didn't deter Emma: The "Legionary" instead lunged for the fallen rifle once wielded by the trooper, got up, and pointed it at a nearby Nolan while the young man was fending off an enemy of his own. She then wordlessly simulated shooting her entire magazine into his back, though Max found herself wishing that the victor of their little training would imitate the noises made by the rifle. The thought even made her smile a little, even if it was quick.

"You're dead and the Legionary now has a gun at hand to kill your fellow soldiers with. React better the next time, alright?" The soldier offered Max a hand, which the latter accepted before being hoisted back to her feet. "If he's that close, you'll be able to shoot him up pretty easily so long as your finger hit the trigger in time. And his… football gear isn't going to stop rounds like these. He's taking a bit gamble getting close, make sure he doesn't cash out."

"I bet I could… hrm…" The mere idea of casually suggesting how to best harm another human being was eerie to her, especially when those Fiends were still fresh in her mind. But, she imagined herself, Legionaries would do worse to her, right? So it's fine if she kills them because they're the bad guys. "… I bet I could, hrm, shoot him in the head at that range." Her mind proposed to supply her with the image of shooting someone in the head at point-blank, which she decided to politely decline. "And not… waste bullets?"

"That's a good point!" Said Emma, already sounding a little prouder. "But are you sure you can do that? BRASS is easy as of right now, but in combat, your arms will be shaky, you'll be constantly on the need for lookout, dust will be flying, the enemy swiveling to avoid getting shot at… So far, you've mostly ambushed dumb animals who could barely fight back."

"Well, there is an accuracy test, right? I can always show off there!"

"If you do, I'll have a prize for ya."

...

She's traveled around a lot of the Wastelands so I'm glad about her presence. I do want to make her nicer by the end! I'm not as good with people as you are, but I'm sure I could do it!

Oh, and do you know that I bought a whole lot of water for everybody around me? I sold a plasma gun (I found it on the road and nobody else had picked it up) to a merchant and I got a lot of caps, so I used them to buy water for everybody. The Mojave's hot, like, really hot. If...

When all of this is settled down, you're probably going to need a lot of water if you want to move around. But there's a bunch of settlements that sell those, and, well, you're a reliable guy, so I'm sure you'll find the good stuff.

Some of my buddies in the squad are really neat! They come from all walks of life. Well, there are no ghouls, which is too bad. I like ghouls and their stories! But it doesn't mean that we humans that all of us can't provide some interesting stuff of our own.

...

"… And that's pretty much my life up to this point. What about yours?" Asked Max, her eyes settled on the floor. She'd rather do the talking face-to-face, but it was harder to clean if her eyes weren't set on her targets. With the current state of the food supply, a lot of NCR soldiers had turned to buy food from elsewhere in packs and then threw said packs away once their purposes were done and over with.

Of course, some said that it was a strong gesture, to show the bosses up there that the privates wouldn't eat the food server at their own camp, but Max was convinced that it was simply a burst of laziness on their part. Likewise, their superiors had told them that they were going to clean things up to show that a good soldier always cleans up the messes left by others, but she wouldn't be surprised if it was a case of not bothering to find the actual perpetrators.

But oh well. The more she scrubbed the floor, the better for everyone who'd pass by after her. And she could still talk with her friends.

"My husband's a Ranger," Said Morales, picking up the discarded trash. "I couldn't… sit back and work at the Hub, knowing that his life's on the line, so I signed up. That way, I can keep an eye on him. Even if I'm not doing much of that at the moment." The trooper grumbled, carrying it all to a nearby bag.

"I'm sure your husband appreciates it!" Complimented Max. Morales gave the tiniest of smiles, and the younger woman snapped to attention towards Hector. He was a trim man, with a generous beard and thinning hair, who wasn't doing his job at the moment. Instead, he was looking down at the entrances of McCarran from the railing, rapidly switching from one to the other. Whenever a gate opened, and they tended to open a lot, he'd immediately crouch to stay out of view, before getting up.

She'd find it funny in another context, but his stress was starting to influence her a bit. Did he know something she didn't? "Hey, Hector. Do you mind helping us out with the trash? Huh, whatever you're looking for, I think you'll find it tamer than if we don't clean things up by the end of the hour."

"… Yeah, sorry," He turned around, looked over his shoulder twice, and relaxed slightly. "I'm from New Reno, and I angered a Made Man. Huh. I knew his wife from work and she told me that, huh, there's a reason why he keeps blasting away at folks with an enormous gun if you catch my drift. So I ensured that she'd have her fun at night for once, but he came back earlier than she thought he would!" Max's skin slowly grew paler and paler, and she hangs on to every word, blushing furiously. "He told me he'd fucking kill me for it, but I got smart. I told him it'd be better if we dueled for her. He was an old-school guy, so he agreed after I played on his pride."

"And you…" Max mimicked drawing a gun and shooting it at him but Hector shook his head.

"What the hell, no! I went back home, packed my stuff, and left New Reno as fast as I could. But I knew he could try to track me down, so I enlisted to gain sufficient military skills to kill twenty guys like him in my sleep. The Mojave's also too dangerous for even those mobsters to contemplate going in there, but I'm not going to live there!"

"You could've probably … ah, left New Reno, right? I heard the Bishops are in touch but not the other two, so their influence wanes fast out of New Reno," Suggested Morales. When the other two soldiers gave her awkward glances, she shrugged. "I-It keeps myself informed on matters, that's all. Never went there…"

"Oh, so I could've just left without needing to enlist?" Hector glanced at his uniform and lowered his head. "Shit."

...

Everyone here is pumped to help civilization reclaims the Mojave. But I'd have interesting questions asked to me by a young woman! She's an amazing mechanist with a car to sell! It'd be amazing to own one, huh? You, me, Dad, we could decide to explore the Core Regions and sees the world for ourselves. Well I mean, we probably ought to be careful but it should be safe. Worse come to worse, dad will yell at the raiders really hard!

But because it'd be mean to have Dad yell at them, I could also disarm them with my fine shooting skills!

...

Several holes appeared over the torso of the Legionary dummy placed in the training fields in front of the airport, earning a smile from a spectating Emma. But she yet refused to comment, instead of waiting for Max to live up to her boasts. And while she had her pride, she refused to win by distracting the youth.

Max appreciated the gesture but remained fixated on her objective, slowly adjusting the gun and breathing to better enhance her aim. This time, she aimed for the base of the neck and attempted to slowly guide the gun's barrel upwards up the neck and to the head. A few bullets whizzed past and lodged themselves into the brick wall behind the dummies, but to Emma's audible surprise a few bullets holes appeared over the neck and head of the target. It wasn't the cleanest headshot, but it worked.

The shooter looked ahead, proud of her work and yet a little terrified over how easy it was to simply take someone's life. All it took was pressing a single button and keeping the barrel pointed where it needed to be, and even a young uptown girl could take a life! Were it not for things such as recoil and a whole bunch of moral standards even children could use those weapons to quickly settle matters! And of course, it was something a bit obvious to realize. But her sheltered life until now had prevented her from having to behold the sheer lethality at work. Despicable as they were, those Legionaries had to be pretty brave, choosing to fight guns with only machetes or spears.

Well anyone had to be pretty brave, really. She'd been lucky not to be shot at but she was terrified at that thought. And while she kept up her poker face to hide it, her hand wasn't so lucky: It shook slightly during the reloading, resulting in the magazine being jammed into the side of the gun or empty air before being properly inserted. A delay of mere seconds, but Emma's smile wavered when she noticed that. "Good shots. You'll drop enemies a lot faster that way, especially Fiends," Emma hit her own chest as an example. "A few bullets to the chest will be enough to fuck up anyone, but our enemies tend to have a lot of physical training or take hard them. They're not invincible, but they've got the foolishness or discipline to fight past the pain until they reach you… But a shot to the head? Yeah, that's difficult to walk off."

"Is that why Lt. Deacon…" Max gulped, and once again knew that this was a mistake on her part. Thankfully, the soldiers around them weren't noticing. Most were shooting, and the few who were waiting their turn or giving out tips couldn't hear the discussion over the roars of the rifles. "Shot them in the head?"

"Yeah. I think you've noticed. Fiends don't realize that they're dead until the chems run out or the brain shut down, so it's necessary to sometimes ensure they stay down before they get up or reach for, like, a grenade." Emma tapped her forehead. "Well, a massive amount of bullets like what happened will get them unmoving, but in other confrontations, you'll feel like you've killed the same Fiend over and over yet he's back on his feet. It's like feral ghouls, really."

"So…" The triumph of proving herself to Emma had quickly faded by now. Good god, she was up against chem zombies? "…. The head is their weak spot?"

"Yeah. A clean shot to the head will drop them. But if you want it intact for your glorious five dollars, you can shred the heart. Or aim for their knees. They're not bulletproof, thank Tandi, and likewise, most chems can't do much to help their legs move when they shouldn't, especially since they'll be dying before they can get some Hydra. They're difficult to deal with though, because…"

Emma glanced to the side, at the numerous dummies being currently shot at. While the sheer rate of fire would not keep them unscathed, a lot of the privates were content to mindlessly shoot until they ran out of ammo, fighting the recoil of their gun almost as much as they "fought" the dummy. This didn't quite put Max in an elite class of her own, as she immediately saw by looking around, but to her shared joy and surprise she was probably above average by the standards of the squad.

The brick walls quietly endured the abuse.

"… They can't really shoot straight, so fewer bullets land on the fiend, so the fiend can more easily shrug off what hit them and get up close or return fire."

"I think it'd help if they were taught the basics. I wouldn't be doing much better if you hadn't been here," Max's meeting with Emma was only the result of her incompetence at shooting a sitting target. "We don't get that much training after all."

"Maybe. But it's the coach's job to properly train them. Can't blame them too much though, with only two weeks to train them… Anyhow!" Emma sighed and wheeled around, digging into her breast pocket and pulling out, to Max's surprise, a little red box with meat inside, with more proteins in it than a hundred cans of beans. But Max refused to believe this early and opted to stare dumbly instead as if Emma would yell "surprise!" and reveal that it had been empty all along. "For a job well done!"

But then she smelled the fumes. The sweet aroma of meat, mixed with a touch of radiation, peppered with age. Not the kind of product that anyone should stand too close to, let alone devour, but she'd take a bite out of her own friend if she had to by that point. Max grabbed the steak and hid it in her pocket. "Thanks!"

"There's more coming your way if you manage to consistently hit the head. But remember to still aim for the torso if in doubt, hm? It's the largest target and a quick burst or two will still slow them down. Do headshots if you're confident you can. If not, aim lower. It's as I said, don't be fancy, Max. Don't sit down at a table and bring a whole plate to eat that delicious steak, girl. You gotta go raw! Be ruthless with that steak! Treat it like you're a tax collector and it's a struggling town at the edge of the frontier! You gotta make it learn not to be delicious! Max!"

"Yeah uh…" Max shook her head and looked up at Emma, who seemed to be questioning her friend's current mental state. "I'll tax the town, Emma. You can count on me!"

"… Huh, the hunger's really getting to you, hm? Well, go ahead then. I'll cover for you," Emma clicked her tongue, and smirked. "Make sure to eat somewhere out of sight too."

…

When I'm not with Emma, I like to interact with Nolan! He's a good guy from the Hub who's seen a lot of the Core Regions. I don't think he's been hanging out in the frontier, like Emma, but he gives me hindsight on how stuff works in the Core Region. There's a lot of finer things just outside, heh!

Well, you probably know about it more than I do! He's been at the Boneyard to get patched up sometimes. You could trade stories of it if you guys ever meet! But maybe you already did? I've contemplated showing him your photo. I know you'd rather not I do that, but you know how I roll. And he's sweet!

…

"I've had a lot of those," Mumbled Nolan, digging into his steak with the ferocity of a predator. "But… fuck! None of them is this good! And it's not even radioactive. Genius." Both young soldiers were hidden behind a truck, with their modest feast at hands. The young woman had already consumed her part, however, unlike Nolan, who was carefully chewing on the meat, as if going any faster would cause it to release some deadly poison.

To pretend that they were doing anything, Max had taken to sitting on an empty crate and was currently rubbing her elbow against her rifle to clean it up, while carefully keeping her arm well away from the trigger. It wasn't the most elegant polish, but it'd be one percent cleaner afterward and that was enough for her. "… If I had some materials to work with, I could clean up that gun," Max turned to Nolan, as he took another bite. "… I've worked a bit for the Gun Runners, and I've had to repair objects a lot. I could clean up that gun for you if you'd like, but I haven't got my tools and a spare rifle."

"That's very kind of you!" Answered Max, tilting her head to the side. "Why the spare rifle though?"

"It helps with the parts. Some guns jam a lot because something's broken, so you replace it with parts that can do their job. 'Course, it ain't too easy to find the proper replacements, but I've made it work." As he spoke, Nolan quietly folded the box, intending on keeping it on himself. She hoped he'd know to put it in a trashcan. "I've quit, though. It was useful to learn how to barter prices as well as jury-rigging, but it wasn't really the kind of life I wanted to lead. It's a safe job…"

"But it's not really what you wanted, right? I understand you," Max sat up as she spoke. "Hmm, I don't think I've ever been close to a gun store before this all went down. Dad keeps a weird handgun around the house in case of intruders, but I'd rather not… well I'd rather not have a weapon at home in case of anything. And learning to shoot didn't change my opinion one bit on that!" She made a wide sweeping gesture with both arms, to clean up an invisible table in front of her. "It's too dangerous."

"A weird handgun? Like a laser weapon?" Both soldiers readjusted their helmets and began to walk out of their hiding spots to resume the patrol. It wasn't exactly smart to take a break during their little facility tour, but they were operating at a remote spot, where fiends were unlikely to led attacks. Well, unless they could materialize inside McCarran, which would be a problem perhaps too big for two troopers to resolve on their own.

"No. He said he stole it from a place called New Canaan. They give those away for a rite of passage, he told me," Max frowned. She would never judge people she hadn't met, especially when they were willing to trade and pretty friendly going by rumors, but what culture would hand over a weapon to one of their own as a rite of passage? But oh well, perhaps they were responsible with those. "He was about to leave but they… apparently pissed him off in some way, so he decided to repay them by stealing a gun. He said he planned to sell it away, but he had already gotten some good loot out of the region and it never hurt to own a weapon in the wastes. He keeps it around even now but I keep a very close eye on that thing. He could hurt himself with it." Nolan coughed, unwilling to further delve into the topic after seeing Max's face visibly darken.

"Your dad seems like he's led a funny life."

"He explored a lot of the region, yeah. But I don't know what's real or what's a lie or… well you get it. I'll admit that he saw far more of the world than my brother and I. And out of the two of us, I guess it's him that's more of a traveler. He went to the Boneyard…" Should Max continue? Bah, she wasn't outright telling Nolan where he lived. "To study with the Followers. He said he didn't trust the BSI, and see more of the wastes. But I guess Dad's horror stories stuck with him because he decided to stick to the roads."

"Heh, that's a safe bet. Some gangs dwell even now in the wastes. Nothing as nasty as what's out here in the Mojave, and they can be reasonable, but that doesn't mean that they're good news. A caravan I was a part of got ambushed once, after taking a shortcut to get to the Boneyard faster. 'Course, we were prepared for this and got away with minimal injuries. Even nabbed one myself." He grinned slightly at that. "I was injured near the shoulder during the fight but that's pretty light. And it did give me a nice scar." He looked down and taped slightly south of his left shoulder, to indicate where it was. She didn't know if it was wise to tap on a scar, even an old one, but truth to be told he'd told her something more interesting.

"You've killed?" Asked Max. Nolan glanced her way, looking disappointed at her lack of interest in the scar. He gave her a nod.

"Yeah. But I've only needed to do it… three to four times in my life," He counted on his fingers. "I've run into plenty of troubles solo, but a lot of the time it was a matter of desperate folks out to get supplies, food or water, so I gave them what they wanted and they left me alone. I knew that I'd be encountering crazy convicts soon at this pace, so I decided to join bigger groups. Encounters were far less common, but they were more violent. Only desperate or stupid bandits attacked us, so we had to kill 'em. It's where I got my first kill on a guy," The soldier glanced around until he spotted a fellow private, at a generous distance, which he pointed at. "He was this far away, but I had covered and he didn't. I took aim and shot, and he collapsed. I'm not even sure I was the one to do him in."

"… Do you even, erm…" Max slightly paced ahead of her friend and turned to face him, stopping in her tracks. "Have memories of it creeping up? Is it something you remember?"

"A bit, at the start. I was a fresh-faced kid at the Hub and I was new to all that violence," He shrugged. "For weeks after the fight, I'd ponder about what had happened and the life I'd taken. It wasn't the fun stuff, but I moved on. Because… hell, plenty of people had to kill out there in the Wastes, so it's nothing special. It's nice to have empathy, but don't be sad about defending yourself, especially when that raider wouldn't have given a single fuck if our positions had been reversed… Now for a question of my own. What happened up ahead? There were corpses ahead."

"… They weren't before we showed up," Replied Max, feeling skittish. But she ultimately decided to speak further. No sense in being coy when she had to finally let it all out. "We had to fight them and because kind words wouldn't work…"

"I see… Well, it's as I said. It's fine to be sad but to be blunt, you're going to need to shoot up a lot of evil people," He looked to the side, carefully considering what he'd say next. "It's what being in the army entails, Max, and you probably knew it before you enlisted. Soldiers, like us, are given guns to go ahead and protect the good folks of the Republic or its territories, present, and future, against bad guys that can't be reasoned with. All of them. The junkies outside, the Legionaries, the Khans… They don't care about being reasoned with. They don't have scruples, or remorse, or anything like that. There's no way to tell them to stop because they won't listen to you at all. The only way to stop them from causing harm, to you, your family, your friends, or kind strangers, is a bullet. The only way these guys are stopping is if we beat them to a point where they can't continue the fight because there's too few of them."

"So we get in there and kill them all?" Huffed Max. "That sounds dangerous. Aren't we as bad them if we do that? Solve our problems by killing? What if we get in our heads that we can kill people who are in the way even if they cause no harm?"

"What else is there to do, negotiate? The Fiends are violent drug addicts and the Legion rape and kill anything in sight. No one would be crying for them if we managed to wipe them out… Anyway, what I'm getting at here, is that you don't need to enjoy killing at all." He chuckled a bit. "Actually please don't do that! But it's something you need to do. It's not nice, but it's our duty. You need to take up arms and stand tall so that your brother can keep practicing his job at the hospital with no fear because the bad guys are slaughtered before they can get even near him."

"… I see what you mean," Conceded Max, seeing a point. They both started to walk again, at a faster pace to make up for their pause. "But it's still hard to get used to it, you know?"

"I know. It's not easy. You're a good girl, Max. Not many folks would give their caps away to help out anyone other than themselves, ya know? Killing rapists and violent junkies won't take away that goodness, trust me. And if you ever feel down again… Talk to me again. Or Emma. Or Morales. Why you can even send your brother a letter! He'll be able to find a way to cheer you up."

Max nodded quickly, smiling, yet eager to move on from another topic now that the weight in her stomach had made itself scarce. The less she thought of that topic, the better. "Oh, speaking of him, have you met him during your Boneyard trips?"

"Hm… I dunno. Last time I went there, a gecko had bitten me in the leg, so I-"

…

But in speaking so much of others, what about me you ask? Well, I'd dare say I'm good! I've cleared the road of giant ants, I did the water thing I've talked about above, and don't worry, I haven't gotten shot at yet!

I've killed a few fiends, but it was self-defense and

I've had to use my gun to kill off some Fiends who were a threat to my fellow troopers and we couldn't reason with

My unit encountered some enemies and I did what I needed to do to save

There were some men and women who presented a clear danger to us. We had to end them because they were high and about to kill some of

We arrived without accidents to McCarran because the roads ahead had been cleared! And now boredom is setting in! But heh, better that than Caesar, right? I'll draw you a nice picture of the Mojave with the sun setting in but I'm running out of paper, so this will be in the next letter!

See ya, lil bro!

Your sister, Max.

The younger woman sat up from her bed and moved to fold the letter, groaning at her inability to simply tell the facts. It looked easy, to be honest, but… that feeling in her stomach had returned full force when she sat down to complete the paper, and perhaps her brother would be worried learning that his sister was already having a crisis and perhaps bad news should be kept for later. She'd figure it out. It was only a matter of settling in, right? She wouldn't be erasing those next time. Like she'd

As she got the letter done, Max looked up to see none other than Emma arriving in the room. While she'd normally grant her friend a smile at any time, especially after that meal, the young woman could only look worried at the poker face that her friend had on. If Emma was acting like that, she figured, then things were going wrong somewhere.

"Grab your rifle. We're heading to Boulder City."

…

The pale moon loomed over pure desolation.

It truly looked like a town trapped in the darker past. One where the bombs had dropped a mere two or three decades ago, and the surviving humans had to lurk in between radioactive ruins to earn food and survive for one more day. That kind of environment, she was told, was the kind that the Legion would bring if it were victorious. A more cynical or world-weary soldier would find it cynical that such scenery was brought by none other than the NCR, to better stop the Legion, but there were bigger concerns ahead for Max.

In fact, she barely gave Veronica's family thought, wondering where they were sleeping and if they knew that their hometown was embroiled in conflict yet again. Once more, the Republic stood against a fierce enemy: the Khans. A raider tribe, hailing from the very same Vault that gave birth to Shady Sand, would've snuffed it early on if not for the heroic efforts of the famed Vault Dweller. The Khans were tough warriors, but very much like the Brotherhood and hopefully the Legion, their rigorous training and battle skills ultimately only meant so much when the Republic could field its own weapons as well as more soldiers. Weapons taken from caches and prospectors sites could only hold up for so long, and eventually, the Khans had been forced to move East.

Despite the years, they were very much still "The Enemy" for the common citizens, though plenty theorized that the Brotherhood was soon going to take that spot. Caesar's Legion, as brutal as it was, was a threat to the frontier and wasn't seen as dangerous by the citizens within Shady Sands or other cities further west. An annoying obstacle to civilization, surely, but nothing that anyone would lose sleepover. The Khans, however, had held a knife to their fledgling's republic throat for many years before being brought down. And the records, while perhaps warped in place, took great pain to emphasize just how lucky the Republic had been to have heroic figures to help it fend off anarchy.

Were if not for these figures, then the Republic would've been squashed in its infancy, and the Wastes would be an even worse place to live in for everyone. And the Khans didn't care: They sought not to settle down and rebuild, but instead thrive in the chaotic desert, and raid forevermore. Even then, with them considerably reduced as the NCR's influence continues to grow, they would pull off stunts like the one occurring right before Max's eyes.

Apparently, wandering Khans had attacked a squad coming back from Novac, and took some of the hostages when the squad had elected to continue the fight instead of awaiting reinforcements. Since they knew that the full wrath of the NCR would go down on them soon enough, the attackers had decided to hunker down at Boulder City, where the firefight occurred, and use the capture troopers as a bargaining chip. Red Rock Canyon was a long way home, after all, and their position could only last for so long when many soldiers would be brought to deal with them.

"Fucking Khans," Emma spat at the ground at Nolan's feet, prompting him to back away. "They're like radroaches. You think that they're gone, but then they return and raid the pantry." Max carefully studied her friend's body language, the way she swung her torso back at forth a little, and the little check-ups she'd do to her rifle, checking to see if the important parts worked and where her magazines were located at. Then, she'd imitate her, even if her movements were a lot more anxious. And why shouldn't she be? A new fight was coming when she'd barely begun to adapt to a significantly easier fight that had occurred merely two days ago.

Most of the NCR soldiers were calm or could pretend to be calm enough. This pleased Lt. Monroe, who stood in front of the area where the Khans were located. "Good! The reinforcements have shown up on time," He took another look, as if in disbelief. "Some of you may be itching for a fight, but we're not here to start one, not as long as the hostages are present. Still, we need to show the Khans that they're outnumbered and prepare in case they decide to force our hand. You will all take a position within the ruins. Some of you may hang back to shoot at them, but I'd rather you display your numbers… Though you're forbidden from fighting for a cover."

"Sir, where are the hostages located?" Asked Emma, saluting. "Have they've been moved ever since the beginning of our standoff?"

"Right. The Khans have taken residence in a small row of decently intact houses. They've put Private Ackerman on the roof of the first building. Should a fight ensue, we will need to reach those houses to kill the leader, who has hauled up inside. The second private, Gilbert, has been taken to a dilapidated mound to the right of the buildings." He pointed to a mass of wrecked concrete right behind him, of impressive size. It looked as if a bunch of the bigger buildings in town had collapsed on each other, forming a massive structure with bits and pieces of building jutting out. This included a lot of pieces of rebar, but also various walls.

How bizarre to think that those buildings had gone through the Great War and remained intact for almost two centuries before being felled in what was, on the wider scale of humanity, a much smaller conflict. She wasn't focusing on that at the moment, but the ruined cityscape was almost a rebuff to the Republic's talk of bringing civilization. It had been sacrificed for a great cause, in saving the Mojave from the first attack of the Legion, but had they capitalized on that?

The massive structure only went higher and higher as it went. To get down from it, a courageous Wastelander would need to take quite the fall and avoid being impaled on the various pieces of rebar sticking out the side of the structure, like metallic spines. The two to three NCR soldiers stationed near it further made it a bad choice for the Khans to use the mound as an escape route.

"They appear to be counting on using that mound to hide in and escape, should a fight occur. The cramped space and various obstacles will at least make it more difficult to fight in, and shield them from our gunfire. Grenades would work, but Pvt Gilbert would be doubtlessly unappreciative. So, for now, take position! We've got our finest negotiators in the case and they will be coming soon to sort things out," While he kept himself collected, Max felt that the last part of the sentence was addressed to himself as much as it was to the troops. "Make yourselves look big. Khans don't understand a whole lot of anything, but they'll get the message." He stepped out of the way, and the soldiers moved in to take a position.

Emma waited until she was out of his ear sight to glance in his direction and sigh. "He sounds desperate. Whatever happens, the stalemate's probably going to break soon, before those diplomats can even get there." The black-haired woman glanced about. A lot of NCR soldiers were already present on the scene, hidden behind various of the jutting debris or cars. This left little place for the others to occupy, forcing them to either hang back to find a decent shield or share theirs with the other troopers, who were not set on being potentially pushed out of their shield.

Max herself followed Emma like she was her shadow. This meant climbing up some of the debris up on their own side, a spot that was still relatively barren of soldiers. And even Max, who was fresh-faced in the matters of warfare, knew why: While they could see the battlefield from a better angle, they were vulnerable to return fire, even with their available cover. Still, at that angle, they could see the various Khans scattered amongst the ruins. Two were sitting in the destroyed roof on the left, keeping their guns set on the soldiers below. Nine were scattered over the street, also scrambling for cover. The rest stood at the foot of the massive ruins. She could count about 6 NCR troopers for one Khan, which offered a bit of an issue for the Raiders. Not that this particularly bothered me: As the troopers below occasionally twitched or glanced away nervously, the cornered bandits were perfectly calm and maintained their position without the slightest movement.

They looked like… well, what came to Max's mind when she thought of Raiders. The night and distance made it difficult to take a good look, and the young woman had bigger priorities going on, but she could at least tell that they were as imagined by her. The Khans were warriors, with a powerful physical constitution and leather clothes on. It wasn't exactly the best choice of armor for a fight: While, yes, the armor Max was currently wearing was of leather as well, it at least covered her up. The men and women of the Great Khans were gladly walking around without much in the way of a shirt, some even proudly exhibiting their bare torsos, covered in scars and tattoos. It was rattling enough to get Max to look away, her face beet red.

Thankfully, Emma's voice cut through the current silence and snapped Max out of it. "Would you want to join 1st recon?" The soldier had positioned herself near a makeshift cover, big enough for Max to hide behind in as well. From the look of it, it had used to be a car door.

"… Huh? What kind of question is that?" Emma said nothing. "… Well, sure, it's prestigious. Why? Am I that good at shooting?"

"Well, if you take these shots, you'll be giving them a good reason to consider you for recruiting," Quipped Emma, laying low on her stomach as she spoke. Max imitated her silently. "I'm taking that position because I'm confident in my shooting skills. You sure you should be up here? When shit gets bad, we don't have much to go to."

Max gulped. "W-well, what happened to my earlier display of accuracy?"

"Well, they're going to be moving around pretty soon and shooting back. It's not like a dummy," Huffed Emma. Max frowned at her tone, feeling like a child scolded by a parent. "… I'll be glad if you actually get a few. But I'll be sad if they get you back."

"I'll manage. Besides… It doesn't need to end violently, right? We're there to intimidate them."

"The Khans have nowhere else to go to. They're cornered, and they're not about to trust anything that's coming out of the mouth of some pampered prick in a suit. Not after Bitter Springs," Max would ask about Bitter Springs in any other context, but the urgency of the situation caused her to care little. And it all but further faded from her mind when she looked down again to notice that the Khans on their roofs were holding their guns her way.

Those goons had her in their sight. At any moment, at any time, they could press that trigger and shoot her up. And all that stood between those bullets and her were mere debris to cower from behind. Seeing this, Max whined and made herself tinier, hoping to elude the bullets this way.

"Y-you sure?"

"The Khans have a stupid warrior culture around 'em. New Khans let the older ones beat the shit out of them to rejoin their tanks, you know? Those stupid fuckers are too proud to just accept surrendering to us. They'll start a fight and die pointlessly but, hey, at least they didn't sully their honor," Emma grumbled. "Pick a Khan and have 'em in your sight. Soon as they do something threatening, we're shooting first. No way I'm letting any of those troopers die to those decrepit drug dealers." The older woman adjusted her gun to the left, towards the two Khans on the roof. "I'll take care of those two. Keep your head down."

"W-whoah you… really hate them." Max glanced at the enemies below. It was a vicious thing, picking which one of them will die first. Brutal as they were, it felt… wrong. But because she'd rather not Emma get distracted, Max aimed for a Khan who was kneeling behind a ruined car, on the principle that the other soldiers would have a tough time reaching him from their position. Did he know that a twitch of her finger was all it'd take to end his journey on Earth? Other people would relish in that power, the ability to take a life at the slightest motion, but it merely gave her nausea.

"Don't feel bad, ok? They'll kill you if they get the chance, and they give the Fiends the drugs that keep them going. Exterminate, with prejudice," Emma's voice was cold, pressing.

"… Yeah." Max somberly took aim. There was some remaining hesitation, but they were squashed as she prepared herself for her first serious ranged battle.

…

Lieutenant Monroe paced anxiously in front of the ruins, on the lookout for more troops. He'd hoped for Rangers to arrive. The current strategy, piling up troopers upon troopers to intimidate the Khans, was not one that he thought sound. It'd be able to get through common raiders, but not the Khans. They'd fight to the bitter end unless convinced to stop. And he didn't trust that the negotiators would have the skill to convince them. Those that bore the mark of the bear were definitely not liked, after all, and the top brass would not allow them to take troopers hostage and depart with their lives.

He'd been stalling, in fact. The hostages were acceptable casualties. It wasn't what the order quite said, but it was there. "The blood of our soldiers will be spilled, but the Khans will bleed more." Said Moore to him. But what was he supposed to do? Tell his soldiers to go in and accept that the hostages would die? It would resolve the situation, but some of the soldiers would be demoralized at the prospect of their fellow troopers dying without the brass bothering to intervene to save them. And treating them as expendables would also anger the soldiers. It was an open secret in the NCR and beyond that Oliver and Kimball would sic those poor men and women on anything to get themselves a victory, but he'd rather the troopers not personally witnesses the Bear's lack of regard for its own.

Focused as he was, Monroe didn't notice a hulking figure approaching until it was right next to him. And after snapping back to attention, he paused some more: The man in front of him was of great size, about more than eight feet tall by a first estimate, with matching muscles clad in an intimidating suit of spiky metal armor. His face was concealed beneath a helmet similar to those of the Legion, with a face wrap and black goggles that completely masked the face, and a white helmet, all caked in blood.

It took the Lieutenant all his military discipline not to react. "Hold on." He signaled. He moved one hand up to his interlocutor's torso, and the other more discreetly moved to his gun. "We've got a situation with some Great Khans right now. The brass at McCarran has ordered me to lock down the ruins until it's been resolved. »

The man stared at him in silence. « This means that whatever business you have in those ruins will need to wait, sir. »

« No. » Replied the tall man. « I have… object stolen by Khans. Get it back. » He sounded like he had trouble getting the words out, yet spoke in a deep guttural voice.

« Then I ask of you to wait until the Khans are neutralized, sir. »

« … How fast? » Asked the man.

« Well, it won't take too long. About… ten minutes? Unless you can negotiate. » The man stood still for about five seconds.

"… Yes. Me good at negotiating." Monroe grimaced. He wouldn't trust that man to correctly read a book and turn the pages properly, so let him handle the matters of diplomacy? Not on his watch. But then he considered the man's size, armor, strength, and visible skills. There were high chances that he had plucked that helmet off a dead Legionary. Anyone capable of doing that must have had some measures of skills, at least enough to handle the Khans.

It'd get the Khans distracted. And perhaps that could be key in quickly winning the fight and save at least one hostage. It was a desperate gamble, obviously. But he also felt like that man wouldn't simply walk away. Better have him on their side for that fight. "Well, come on in then. I'll warn the others on the radio." The man barely waited for approval before getting in, almost struggling to fit his nightmarishly large armor through the door.

Monroe felt a tinge of regret.

…

… "Who's that?" Asked Max, breaking her concentration on the Khans to study the tall man that had somehow wandered into the standoff. He was not a scared civilian, because of his armor, but he also wasn't anything good, because of his armor and that helmet he had on.

"Fuck, where do they get these negotiators at?" Emma took a single glance. "… He's going to start a fight. Get ready." Max hunkered down but took her aim off that Khan to behold the progress of that odd man. After walking up to the Khans, the man apparently began to barter with them, owing to the raiders obviously not having any intention of letting such a fellow walk past them. After some short deliberations, the tall man resolved the matters by handing out syringes full of drugs to the Khans. This seemed to please the guards, who let him pass. Some of them promptly took the drugs as well.

"What the fuck? He gave them chems." Max continued to witness the man make his way to the main building, earning himself various glances from the gathered Khan. Once arrived, after nearly picking the wrong house twice, he proceeded to calmly enter the dilapidated house, closing the door behind him as well.

Almost three seconds after the warrior's entrance in the building, a shape was violently flung out of it, smashing through the brick wall and landing at the feet of the gathered Khans. Such violence would have immediately started a firefight, but both Khans and NCR were confounded enough by what had happened to glance at what had been thrown out, and a few of the latter gagged. Even Max felt something gather up at her throat when she took a closer look at what was there.

It was a mass of gore, with a shredded Khan jacket over it.

The silence settled in for a very brief moment… and Emma, who had never taken her eyes off her targets pressed the trigger first, shooting the two Khans on the roof and causing them to collapse as well. Scrambling back for her original target, and with the adrenaline once more rushing back in, Max fired a couple of shots, felling him. She would've most likely missed if he hadn't stopped to gawk at his leader's body.

Already down about four men, the Khans shot back, and soon the place was alit with gunshots, the fire of war once again igniting within Boulder City.

…

A hostage situation is taking place in the ruins of Boulder City. Our latest sources inform us that the Great Khans and NCR are having a stand-off in a sealed-off portion of the town.

The NCR has refused to yet comment on the matter but has indicated that the hostages will be rescued if the Khans are cooperative. "We wish for peace. The Khans have seen us at our worst, but if they cooperate, they'll change their mind pretty quickly." Has indicated a nearby Private, uninvolved in the matter.

"I'll tell yo… Hey, you! You're desecrating a war memorial!"

Private Kowalski promptly set out to correct this injustice before our reporters were advised to step back in case of a firefight. We'll keep you updated!

Up next, it's… oh, hehehehe, Ghost Town Gunfight!

…

Hullo! One more chapter dropped! I'm glad to be sticking close to the schedule this time around.

What did you think of the letter format? Oh, and the introduction of a certain Courier? I'll admit, he's inspired by a play-through I did. I had a fun time playing this kind of character. IMO, he'd probably make for a poor protagonist though, since his solution to everything, as you see, tends to involve overwhelming violence.

Personally, I'm playing some mods right now. New Vegas Bounties is pretty awesome!

But what do you think of him? Or Max, Emma, Nolan, and others? Any advice or review will be welcomed with open arms!

See you later!