She figured it'd be a difficult mission. As pointed out by Emma, murderers were very common in Freeside, let alone the rest of the Mojave, and the rest of the populace didn't care enough to help out the soldiers. By all accounts, it was a PR move to convince their citizens that they were being cared for and, perhaps, reminds the Kings and others inhabitants that the NCR was still around. The higher-ups at McCarran would have the patrols do a few tours across the dilapidated slums and then they'd be back to the camp, leaving the rest of the investigation to the soldiers assigned to Major Kieran. They probably weren't expecting at least two of their soldiers to do such ruckus that a small mob would form to intercept them. The worse being: Max couldn't blame that mob for approaching them in the first place, considering what went down. And for anyone stumbling late into the showdown, the sight of the unconscious children at their feet was more than telling!
The gathered Freeside residents had to be a dozen or so. The bulk was scattered in front of them, and a few others were laid to the side, blocking out the street. They could get past them with a charge, or well Emma could, but messing up would cause the rest of the mob to attack and that wouldn't be so pleasant.
"What you did to these kids, we'll give back to you a hundredfold, you NCR scum!" Warned one of the healthier individuals in the crowd, holding up a block of cement over his head as a sign of intimidation. A few others raised their own weapons, the rest mumbled in acknowledgment, some struggling to even stay standing any longer. It was a large mob, evidently, but it wasn't too threatening on its own nonetheless: Should it come down to it, both Emma and Max could lightly push some of their attackers, and that would be enough to neutralize them. They also had firearms, where their enemies were seemingly devoid of them. But obviously, firing on a crowd was unthinkable for Max. These people had legitimate reasons to be angry and that would only worsen the situation, after all! No, it was better to run away, but she wasn't sure if Emma would agree. Where Max was hanging back, biting her lowers lips repeatedly as if chewing on them, Emma had decided to approach the crowd outright, her arms spread in invitation.
"Oh yeah? I've gotten to shoot a Legionary's head off his body a few weeks ago! And this girl-" She jammed a thumb over her shoulder, at Max. "-she's killed, Great Khans. Do you think we're afraid of you guys? The ones who should be afraid right now… are you guys!" Emma unholstered her 9mm gun and pointed it at the leader, who realized what he was getting into and took two steps backward. His weapon dropped to the ground, narrowly missing an underling's foot. Max briefly stood, at least admirative of the sheer boldness of her friend, but she was also annoyed at the probable escalation that would ensue. While the saner members of the mob realized what they were dealing with, the chems addicts remained unfazed and shambled forward, unintimidated by the gun. Realizing this, the healthier men and women around decided to wisely flee their surroundings or instead hide behind the drug addicts, counting on them to be their human shields.
"There's only so many bullets you can fire, you bitch!" Taunted one of them.
"I'll just beat the rest of you to death with the pistol then! Hey! Pull out your gun and get ready for target practice!"
"Emma! No!" As Emma prepared to pull the trigger, and perhaps begin another massacre that the NCR wouldn't be proud of, a white object of a sort sailed over their heads and landed a few feet behind the raggedy bunch. Silence settled in, while the people closest to it investigated until one of the human dredges near the end of the pack regained enough vigor to yell.
"It's Jet!" Immediately, the mob threw itself at the fallen canister, abandoning the two NCR soldiers to instead acquire the chem. The temptation of acquiring Jet gave those poor souls an inhuman strength typical of those craving, overwhelming the previous "leaders" of the crowd, who shouted at them to stop with no results. A pile of addicts formed above the product, as about a dozen conscious human beings began to viciously tear at another for a shot at a drug. Men and women ready to cooperate one second ago were now tearing each other apart. Screeches of pain or anger echoed from the mass, desperate to obtain what they needed. It was a sad vision to behold, and even Emma paused along with Max to stare, unsure of what they were exactly seeing. The older private managed to retrieve her senses first and looked back to see a man in rags running out of the thin alley behind them, gesturing at them to follow. Nodding along, Emma seized her friend by the arm and began to run along, following the person. The shock of being taken like that awoke Max in return, and Emma let her go to do her own running.
Even with his headstart, both women very soon caught up to the man, even if they did not risk surpassing him yet in case he had anywhere else to go. Realizing he'd been caught up to, he gave them both a quick point to an alley further down the street, which they both easily reached. Max, having arrived the first, stopped to catch her breath but Emma didn't, raising her gun and checking the alley for any goon in ambush first. She did the same for her surroundings and then moved in to be out of sight, grabbing her friend's collar to ensure she also would. After a few more seconds, the wheezing man stopped by, exhausted likewise. He even considered sitting down, but the likely scenario of a syringe stabbing his ass motivated him to instead lean against the wall; Emma gave a few more glances around, to confirm that they were safe, and glanced at him. "Nice throw."
"… Thanks…" He took a few deep breaths. "You… ugh, you really were about to shoot a mob, huh?"
"Yeah. And I will have to do it if they chase us."
"They won't. Druggies… Once something's out of sight, it's out of mind for them. And the smarter folks won't risk going against you without them. You're safe," He stopped to briefly stare: He was a young man, with wild curly hair, a long dirty black beard, and teeth that could be mistaken for gold. He was dressed in rags, common around Freeside, but his disgusting hair and beard made him somehow more repelling than the average folk dwelling around the place. Even brushing her hand against his facial hair would give her a fatal disease, or so Emma thought. He had intense blue eyes though. It stood in great contrast with the rest of his face. "… So, could you, huh, drop the gun?"
"No," Emma raised the gun and pointedly racked the slide of the pistol. "You… helped us out because you want us to do something, right? Now that we're in your eternal debt, you're going to want us to help you with something. I'll tell ya though, we've got a much bigger priority on our hands, so you're not earning shit for us regardless of what you did, got that? And don't try to intervene in that, Max, let me handle things." Max said nothing, staring at these blue eyes of his. And his face too. Yes… It was markedly different and worn down, but it's being dirty didn't prevent her from identifying that particular face. Those bright blue eyes of his only made it more obvious, but she'd have figured it out even if he had taken to wearing sunglasses. But was it really him? She had to be careful and politely ask him…
"Maxine?" He asked, in disbelief. They sat there, in absolute silence, slowly realizing their current situation. To try to dispel any future doubt, Max very quickly lowered her mask and helmet, since those two had already done a good job at obscuring her traits, and Andrew's eyes widened in further disbelief. Somewhere, somehow, God or a higher entity had decided to reunite them and had made Max cross kilometers worth of desert and sign up in the army for that explicit purpose. The reverse was the same for Max, who thought that Andrew was home or well on his way back by now. But they were together, now, staring slack-jawed at one another. With the trio bewitched by the coincidence at work, it took a mighty effort from Max to step up and hug Andrew. It didn't matter, to her, that she was getting a faceful of his toxic beard or that the slightest amount of force on his ribs could potentially snap them in two. For his part, the young man looked surprised that she'd even engage him in a hug and returned it perhaps a full minute after it began. The motion of tenderly holding someone else had been slightly lost to him, but the warmth radiating off Max was familiar, in a bittersweet way. If his inner voice wasn't as shocked as he is, it'd comment that this kind of warmth is what he sacrificed in his desperate bid for more caps.
When Max pulled back, Andrew almost contemplated telling her not to, but then relented. No need in humiliating himself in front of someone else. "… Ba… huh… ba… be… How are the others doing?"
"…. I don't know. I think they're… huh… what's the opposite of bad? Good! Yeah, they're doing good! You could always go… check on them," Max dug her hands into her pockets and swiveled back and forth, unsure of what to say. Should she just yell? Say how happy she was? Ask him why he looks like he's been living here for a while? "… I-I made a new friend, her name is Emma. She's very nice… a lot of the time!" The brown-haired youth held her arm at her friend like it was made out of stiff wood. She would not have been surprised if it made a creaking sound as she turned it to point at Andrew. "Emma, meet Andrew. He's a… guy from Shady Sands. I know him from there."
Andrew turned at Emma and, with similar stiffness, waved his arm. "H-hey Emma. I'm Andrew, she knows me from Shady Sands!" He stopped and only acknowledged his words a second after uttering them. "… I'm a businessman. It means I do business things like repairing old people or talking to tables."
"N-not really. You sold old people bad tables," Max said. "You even sold to that granny who wasn't all there mentally and yet-"
"Well… She looked pretty normal to me! I mean, old people are always wise, right? So I imagined she'd protest but she was fine with the prices! It's not like I put in a tiny amount of other zeroes on the paper, right? Now well it was regrettable that the doors cost that much but-"
"You wanted to change all the doors in her house when she only asked for the door handle of one to be fixed!" Said Max, the awkwardness dropping off fast. So did Andrew's, as he immediately shook his head, food projectiles flying out of it.
"I walked in and saw that her doors weren't up to par so… what if there's a thief, right? It's money given to a legitimate organization versus money taken from the safe by an evil individual! The other guy will take more of it, right? But I funnel it into my company. Taxes are handled, nefarious villains are repelled, and-" Max approached slightly, jabbing an accusatory finger into his chest.
"But the doors were made out of solid wood! It's cheaper and sturdier than the… "pre-war nuclear tungsten" you had suggested! You tried to scam an old lady Andrew! Imagine trying that! A-and it's not your first time trying to trick elderly people, I-"
"It was a fine retirement house! The rats got in there because of an undiscovered cave where they could-" He removed her finger, but she placed it right back on his chest, refusing to let herself be intimidated.
"No! I didn't mean the bogus retirement home that you showed the clients only pictures of! I meant that time with the inheritance and-" Emma raised her hands, preparing to intercept the dialogue before it could take off, but then slowly lowered them as the discussion raged on. Then she shrugged and began to seek out a spot where she could sit and, after carefully wiping anything that looked suspicious via her boot, sat down on it to observe the drama, rubbing her chin as Max accused and Andrew protested, each interrupting the other, slowly forming a slight smile as the accusations and tone escalated.
"… It's how many caps you wanted to steal from that lady's family?! Damn it, Andrew! Think about her kids and grandkids! And no! You can't pretend to be their new grand-daddy and walk away like last-"
"Well, they can all find an easy job in the NCR anyhow! Brahmin Barons are hiring everyone now, and… and that was the perfect sob story to gain work anyhow! I've been to a lot of these! Even been the one interviewing! You tug the strings a little, maybe exaggerate VERY slightly there and there, invent a gang of marauders and you'r-" He gesticulated, and so did she, but even more wildly, inspiring him to surpass her in his next set of moves.
"If it's so easy to have and hold down a job you'd have done it already! But noo! You can't do that! You'd rather leap from bad scheme to bad scheme until your resume start sounding like a minefield! Imagine not even being hired to guard Brahmins! Imagine that! Wait! Wait! No need to imagine! You got into a blacklist when you tried to tell people that their dung is a good fertilizer!" Max said, throwing her arms up in the air.
"Well, it worked! A Follower told me that! And we need all the plant life we-"
Max immediately whipped back at him, fingers pointed. "But you tried to steal piles of shit Andrew! With a shovel!"
"I was limited by my means! You could've helped out with it! And… and don't try to talk about holding down jobs when-"
"'Course I can talk about holding down jobs! I held them for… months!" She took a step closer. "You were lucky to last a week before someone decided that you were better off as far away from the place as possible! If you had wanted, I could've been the breadwinner and-"
"I'm not going to be the one guy sitting there and living off my wife's work, damn it! Besides, it'd be so boring! The other guys would look at me!" He held his arms to his ears and put up a sarcastic smile. "Ohh here come, Andrew! You sure you can spend your dame's money on drinks!" And what would I look like? I gotta earn my own caps! Forge my fortune via my sweat and blood! You'd get it, right? At least I want to work for it, and then work even higher!"
"The guys?" Max's eyes widened. "Well, the guys already have plenty enough reasons to mock you, given what you keep on doing for those caps! And scamming old ladies is not working harder!"
"Any work is work, jerk!" He took one step closer.
"Liar!" So did she.
"Goody two-shoes!" He now took two steps, and she replicated him, going to a point where both were mere inches from one another.
"Crook!" The conversation ended, and the two Californians recovered their breath. Finally, Max smiled, if awkwardly. "L-like the good old times, isn't that right? It's… good to see you again, Andrew." She scratched the back of her head and stepped back, embarrassed.
"Same, Max," He sat down like the yelling match was exhausting to him somehow, but he managed to produce a smile. "So, what brings you here? Is it that… business with the settlers? You and Emma are there to investigate?"
"That's right," Emma repressed her earlier smile with difficulty, having been greatly entertained by all the arguing. But the mission mattered more than that, and so she put up a stone-cold face once more. "We're hoping to catch the murderer but we only know that the murderer is at least decent with a gun. Any blood trail was wiped clean too, so we're thinking the locals are collaborating. We were hoping to track him to the east of Freeside, where thugs with guns are more common and a lot of folks hate the NCR… And we're not walking away without a plausible suspect, by the way. Ostensibly, we're here to half-assedly support Kieran's troops, but we're not letting down our citizens."
"I get it, but there's not much you're going to achieve if you beat up kids and threaten a crowd," Andrew shook his head, and Max gave her friend a smug smile, content in having someone to back her up. "I intervened for them, not specifically for you. Not because I don't care! But because two soldiers walking in and slaughtering a mob after pummeling kids… Yeah, those actions of yours might have created the motive for the next attack on the settlers," Emma folded her arms, displeased with what she was hearing. He took her silence as a sign that she wasn't about to argue and continued. "But I get it. You've got orders. And I've got a few suspects." He didn't mean to denounce Wayne already, but now that Max was involved, it was clear that he would not be sending her after that zombie maniac. The memories of him effortlessly lifting and slamming a grown adult overhead still lingered, a good day or two after he first witnessed it. No, what would be needed to catch this guy… was one of those badass rangers with a coat and that gas mask. Anyone else would get killed, he was certain of it.
"… You've been dwelling here for how long, by the way?" Max did that gesture Andrew dreaded, the one where she lift one of her thick eyebrows and tilt her head to the side. "I'm just concerned because-"
"Shut up, Max. Let him speak first." Max gave Emma a slight glare but acknowledged her point, backing off for now.
"Well, there's… huh… a few bad guys around the neighborhood. But since you're looking for results, I think you could try to seek out Dix-" Andrew froze, his subsequent words fading out. That fatigue from the arguing a few seconds ago was not gone, as he hoped it'd be: Instead, it had almost spread, making his body heavier than the concrete blocks laying around the alley. Besieged by a sudden outburst of sweat, the young man prepared to wipe his forehead but found that lifting his arm alone was already tremendously difficult and gave up on that. "… On… He…" Saliva escaped his mouth, and it almost wedged shut, preventing him from speaking out any longer. He could see Max very slowly reach out for him as his legs gave away, making him slump back. The impact could have caused his neck to impact the cold concrete, if Max hadn't been quick enough to hoist her ex by the armpits and lift him up, only barely avoiding a nasty accident. She spoke, but her words were distant. Echoey, even.
"… Andrew! What's wrong? Emma! Help me out there!" The black-haired woman did as asked, and had a much easier time holding the young man up. "Andrew! What's wrong with you?!"
"Must've been too many chems," Commented Emma, peering into his eyes. They were wide open, and darting around the place like crazy. "… Shit, that's really nasty. What kind of stuff did he take?"
"Ah, fuck fuck fuck! No! He's gonna die! You… is there… fuck! What can we do?! There must be… Ah, the Followers! Aren't they there?! Let's bring him to their fort!"
"Hm, right. Lead the way, I'll ensure that he doesn't fall while we get there. You should see it easily, it's down there, to the right." Emma carefully moved Andrew to scoop him up. It was unwieldy, but putting him on her shoulder could cause him some… troubles. It wasn't surprising that he'd be an addict but to that point? And of course, he had to be the sole informant around too! Gah! If he died like this, then she'd have to deal with an inconsolable Max on top of the mission. Just her luck.
…
The Followers Fort was a structure built way before the Great War, according to the sign found in front of it. Knowledgeable says that a sect had built the fort to ward off attacks from native inhabitants of the land. Today, centuries and a whole nuclear holocaust after its construction, it still stands tall as a rock and wards off intruders. It didn't look like much next to McCarran, but having solid stone walls was a crucial advantage when the average Freeside was too uncoordinated to properly climb over them, on top of lacking the necessary armament to punch through such massive defenses. The Followers, as a result, only needed to guard the main wooden door, where the hopeless people of Freeside would flock through to be cured of their ills. And Max was finding herself being of those desperate masses, smashing at the gate like she meant to burst through it. "Help! Help! My friend is dying! Please, help!" Emma stood near Max's back, glaring at potential thieves who'd like to exploit her current distress to steal her belongings. Thankfully, it took very little time for the inhabitants of the fort to open the door, allowing Max, Emma, and quite a few other folks to get in. Some healthier people snuck in too, coughing away to pretend to be sick, but having to stop and verify who's sick and who isn't would be too difficult to try, or so Emma guessed. She was still glad that the Followers had let them in so quickly though, so she wasn't about to protest at that point.
The fort courtyard was a busy place, as predicted. Lots and lots of sickly people or former junkies were laying on the ground or getting guided to the numerous white tents scattered across the courtyard, bursting full with people. Medics of various ages were doing multiple consultations at the same time with different people, giving them a minute of discussion for each. Most of these were quite young. Younger than Max, even. The veterans were all being requisitioned to help out with more complex wounds, such as broken legs and what-not, that a Stimpak just couldn't fix without causing more troubles than it meant to solve. Those operations were done in the right-side tents, while more orderly consultations took place in the left row. When they were done with their patients, the doctors rushed back to the entrance to take in some of the newer guests, and the cycle resumed. It was to the point where the guards had to intercept some to let them rest! However, Andrew's case was serious enough to immediately bring in attention: A tall blond man, with a thick set of glasses, immediately walked up to Max. "We'll move you to one of the tents on the left row, one of our doctors will be seeing your friend as soon as possible." He spoke, before walking to her side, intending to help with carrying Andrew.
"N-no! We can't wait! He's dying!" Spoke Max in a hurry, turning to the man. "He needs some Fixer! Please!"
"He's experiencing withdrawal. He'll need some Fixer, as she said," Emma addressed, in case he wouldn't understand Max's rambling. "I can take care of that." The man took a quick glance at Andrew.
"… Hm, I believe you. I only ask to handle the Fixer, if you do not mind. Call it a safety measure."
"Come on! Why'd you believe we'd steal the Fixer?" Grunted Emma in annoyance, as the trio very quickly moved to the tent. Once again, the doctor sought to help out Max, but the adrenaline gave her the speed and strength to outpace both of them at the same time. This actually seemed to slightly impress the doctor, who kept his eyes on her while running.
"Well, it had happened. Less… savory pillars of our community find a poor soul overdosing on the street, bring them to us pretending them to be acquainted with them, and use the opportunity to steal some of our medicine and fixers while we attempt to save them" He observed Max tearing through the courtyard like she had wheels strapped to her legs. "For the record, I do not believe that she's faking it."
"Ha! Even the Followers are getting cynical now, heh? Give it a few more years and maybe you'll start to live in the same world as the rest of us." The doctor rolled his eyes and entered the tent, as Max laid Andrew on the ground, holding both his hands together. Emma knelt next to her and carefully pried his mouth open, to give the doctor an easier time. The tall man rejoined them, a pill already in hands, and knelt next to him to put it in his mouth. Once it was safe to do so, Emma had him chew on the pill a little until she could see the chunks in the foam go down his throat. Then, as soon as it was done, the Follower once again had him eat the pill, and Emma helped Andrew chow it down. The colors slowly came back on his face with each ingestion. At the fifth one, his state had stabilized somewhat: After a quick check for his pulse, the doctor could see that his heartbeat, while faster than it should usually be, had at least taken to a slightly slower pace. Andrew began to move his limbs and eyes, but still imperfectly, and once he was sure he could at least move his eyes, he focused them on the ceiling. Not that the youth wasn't in a sorry state: His mouth still overflowed with foam, his movements were awkward and imprecise, and, at least to him the subsequent discussion was coming from kilometers away even when the trio was standing right above his immobilized carcass. Max quietly placed his head on one of her laps, sometimes glancing back at the duo.
"… Five Fixers's all I got, but it won't do it in this case," The man turned to Emma, assuming her to be the one in charge. "If I'm guessing right, the patient must be a client of a certain chem dealer in Freeside. He's been... sharing his products for quite a while now, and we've discovered that it's more virulent than the original Jet. Surviving withdrawal is extremely complicated without about ten uses of Fixer and we've long since run out of the antidote for Jet. He's lucky you were around to help."
Emma turned to him, with a bizarre shine in her eyes. "Huh, and you haven't done anything to put a bullet in his head?"
"Ahhh, silly me, I've forgotten that the Followers' creed is the use of mindless force," The bespectacled man walked to a cabinet and opened it up, seeking more Fixer to use. Max tracked him along, all while stroking Andrew's hair. For his part, he grunted incoherently, barely aware of his environment. "Even if we decided to kill Dixon, and that would require leaving the fort because of his usual presence downtown, he's but one amongst several traffickers in Freeside, supplied by the local businesses like the Atomic Wrangler. And no. You cannot show up to the Wrangler and shoot up the place, nor can you try to kill every trafficker in the area."
"Dixon? Isn't that the name of the guy he mentioned earlier?" Emma turned to Max, largely ignoring the good doctor. "… Hey, you, Followers guy-"
"My name is Arcade Gannon."
"Hm, right. Gannon, do you know anything else about this guy? Dixon? Our source of intel is too busy laying in a pool of his own saliva to provide us with details and you seem knowledgeable."
"… Well, as I said, he's been a pain for us for a while. He specializes in selling low-quality chems that are harder to cure. We also suspect he's been using those same men to steal Fixer from us and sell it back to those poor souls on Freeside and keep them alive for a bit longer. As far as people go… I'll admit it, I wouldn't be mourning him if he choked on an iguana stick and died." Admitted Arcade, with a look at the tent's roof. "But the problem is that killing him like that wouldn't change anything in Freeside. Another drug dealer would take his place and the locals would see it as the NCR imposing their laws."
"Whatever we do, we're getting unpopular around these parts anyhow. Besides, the locals won't be messing with us if they see that we're not going to put up with their bullshit!" Arcade sighed frustratedly and pinched the bridge of his nose. Max couldn't fault him… but deep down, she wasn't disagreeing either. Drug dealers like Dixon provided the Fiends with the chems that drove them insane and they specifically made money by feeding harmful poison to the same people over and over again. Yes, Andrew was a bit of a crook and yes, his decision to head for New Vegas was foolish. But to see him fawn at the mouth and collapse like that, his entire body frozen save for the eyes… A dark frown manifested on Max's face. "Max, you're staying there. Tend to your ex or whatever while I ensure that Dixon succumbs to a lead overdose." Emma gave Arcade a nasty sideglance, almost begging him to interfere.
"… if you think you can fix Freeside's problems or make life easier for the fellow citizens of the NCR stationed there, don't," He instead advised. "Shooting Dixon or capturing him will certainly make you feel like a hero at McCarran and there'll be nothing of value lost if he dies, but going in gun-blazing will lead to more struggle for the settlers or soldiers already posted north of here, and these guys can't even afford to investigate the place with the current tensions."
"Well, what else are you suggesting? You want those junkies to police themselves?!" Emma threw her head back and snarled. "Don't make me laugh, Gannon! Look at what your methods did!" The black-haired soldier pointed to the quasi-chaos on the courtyard, patients, and doctors rushing over the place. "Let us do our job. We'll crush the Fiends and we'll discipline the rest of them. All that they need to do is figure out why Dixon got canned, and that'll inspire them not to do the same."
"No method is perfect. What… peace you hope to bring by "disciplining", it'll be built on blood!" Arcade took three steps closer to Emma, and to Max's surprise, his sheer boldness fazed her into taking two steps back of her own. " Shooting a drug dealer isn't going to fix the wider issues, but neither will be blindly invading Freeside to try and assimilate it in your imperialistic war machine!"
"… Mr. Gannon? Em? I'm a bit tired today," Said Max, approaching the duo. Andrew was… peaceful, so there wasn't much more use in standing too close and cajoling him. "I agree with you overall, but… What Dixon is doing, to all these innocents people, I can't ignore it. There's not much change that we can do, maybe, but we can try removing one evil man from Freeside, right? It'll be… less work to do for you guys." Arcade contemplated Max briefly, surprised by her words. Where he thought he'd find an ally, he ended up finding someone who approved of Emma's goals. He'd get why she'd be upset, evidently, and he wasn't joyful at having to deliver the bad news, but the consequences of killing someone like Dixon would anger some of the more powerful people this side of Freeside, and the last thing the Followers wanted was more violence and chaos within the slums.
"I get you, I really do, but consider that you'll kill one evil man… and allow another to replace him. Dixon and the likes are a problem, but using violence to solve his case won't resolve matters! We're stretched thin as it is and we won't be able to provide aids to the NCR settlers or Freesiders in need! This isn't the wastes, private! Shooting at the problem won't make it go away!"
"… If being stretched thin is your problem, you shouldn't have turned your back on the NCR," Emma retorted, her tone final. "You did it to yourselves, digging your grave like this to get closer to the violent junkies and cheap whores. Enjoy your truly free civilization." Arcade watched her go and prepared to speak up but relented: Andrew was still in need of assistance and he had experience with people like Emma. Soldiers like hers had the concept of violence as an answer drilled into their heads and were convinced that their actions, no matter how brutal, were justified and that their victims had somehow deserved it. If he had to ponder about her past, she'd been taught to see things such as backing off as a sign of weakness and grew up in an environment where matters were very rarely solved via diplomacy, as it was sadly still all too common. He'd love to further talk with the soldier, in the vaguest of hopes that he could dispel the brainwashing, but he didn't quite have the time for that. He shouldn't even be taking this long on a single case of withdrawal!
"I'm sorry about Emma," Arcade's eyes flickered to Max, the young woman sheepishly holding her left arm. "… I'll bring about as much Fixer as I can back here. You guys probably need it."
"I appreciate the sentiment, but what we'd need is less chaos, and I'm afraid that your friend won't be of much help in that endeavor," Arcade sighed. "I do emphasize. I've seen people experience severe withdrawal like this, and I know it's a tall order asking you to ignore that. But you could… keep him company?" Max looked at the tent, and Andrew, ever so peaceful within it. Emma was a toughie who'd beaten Legionaries, what threat could a drug dealer and his posse present to her? With a friend in need, and another capable of handling herself, why'd she need to continue? But then, her face grew ever so slightly colder and she shook her head at Arcade, her saccharine smile convincing neither of what she truly thought.
"… No. I… I'll be there to ensure that things are kept orderly! And I'll use that to bring you back any Fixer he may have stolen," Max felt a smidge of sympathy when Arcade slowly closed his eyes, but hardened her heart to it. What could he understand to it anyway? It's not his friend who was laying on the ground with a ton of poison in his body! He'd been living it easily behind those great walls while Andrew had been struggling all alone! Should they wait for a justice that would obviously never arrive or settle things for themselves? "I'm sorry, Mr. Arcade. You seem nice, but… I don't think being nice is a good quality around these parts."
"Thinking of "being nice" as a flaw has led to the human race having to scrounge for medical supplies in the ruins of hospitals, Max," He advised her, as she started to join up with Emma. "Try not to forget that, as so many of your compatriots have already done." Shuddering at the bitter taint in his voice, the young private eagerly caught up to her friend.
…
Max hadn't noticed in her panicked run for medical attention, but the streets leading to the fort were decent when put next to those in what she'd call "Lower Freeside." It wasn't clean, and you'd still easily find other people's messes here and there, but it was a good deal cleaner, and it was certainly thanks to those men in leather vests. Well, not quite them, but they'd instruct locals or younger men to pick up the debris and clean up the place. "The Kings", she'd assume. But even a blind man could see their allegiance thanks to their weird hairstyle the logo on the back of those fancy vests, or the dirty glare they threw the way of the NCR folks. She didn't bother to glare back. In fact, the Kings were completely forgotten as soon as the two women walked past them: She had bigger things to worry about, like finding Dixon and making him choke on a sharp rock or something else panful.
"The Followers… Heh, isn't your brother one of them? I think you said he was a doctor and stuff like that," Addressed Emma. She waited for a solid seven seconds before the silence became too awkward to just ignore. "… Hey, Max, you still there among us mortals?"
"... Oh? Oh yeah. Huh. He was a member but he left when they decided to split from the NCR. I think he regret it or something." Max scanned the area ahead as the two soldiers turned left. On their right, the path to the Strip continued: She could see the massive gate leading to it at the very end of the alley. A lot of gamblers and people that could afford fine suits in the wastes were walking down that way, sometimes being accompanied by a King. One of them was even running up to the Strip in the company of a man in a suit of metal armor! A child stood to the left of the crowd, yelling about Mick and Ralph's shop not so far down the street. Painful memories of hitting a kid aside, the noises he was making convinced Max and Emma accelerate the pace for the sanctity of their ears. Once they were done moving, the younger girl continued to peer around.
"… Oh wow, you're focused," Noted Emma, initially amused. Then, her voice gained a bitter edge. "Wish we could've seen that focus when we were looking for the murderer…"
"Well, you can go ahead and look for that guy. But I'm taking care of Dixon!" Snapped Max back, Emma gave her an incredulous stare. "It's you who went on about finding him in the first place." The black-haired woman very briefly contemplated smacking her colleague in the back of the head, but she could emphasize. And besides, it was good to see Max's angrier side for once.
"Ya know, if you were anyone else, I'd smack you for talking like that to me… But I get you. Your boyfriend's in danger, you're under stress.D do as I say though, or-"
"He's not my boyfriend! Hrm… not anymore," Max said, after taking a deep breath. "And that's all I will say about it."
"… Huh, I bet you thought you could fix him, right?" The younger private said nothing and kept her eyes on the road ahead. "You see a guy who looks young and promising but gets caught in shit all the time. You think it's too bad and strive to change that. You got a good thing going but no matter how much you support him after he fails a scam or ploy, he's out the next day trying his luck again. And it wears down on you, so you tell him to stop or you'll leave him. If he's nice enough, he'll go straight for two days before going back to his old habits. If he ain't, then he'll tell you it's over and that'll be that. Seems like the first."
"… Yeah. I thought I could help him," Max said, apparently found out. "We've known each other very early on in our lives but I've only begun to date him when we were teens. Because of his looks and because… well yeah, he looked sad at times and the others always kept him away, so I figured that maybe he had some issues that I could solve with him…" Max spread her arms in a sudden wild movement, almost smacking an errant man in the face. "But he didn't! He had loving parents, enough caps to get whatever he wanted! Everything a kid could want! And yet he'd still keep on doing those things! I couldn't get it! So I gave up because I didn't want to be constantly helping him clean up his own messes," Max lowered her arms, quietly ashamed. "… My family didn't know. Conrad was away to the Boneyard and dad… well, I know he wouldn't have approved, so I kept it a secret. Badly, at times, but he never notices anything anyway."
"Yeah, it's how these things go," Emma kept her arms close to her pistols and glared as a couple of thugs approached, intimidating them enough to force them to seek a victim further down the street, but the various groups of six or seven that were found were equally daunting. Said groups also stepped closer to the NCR soldiers, but Emma could see that they were settlers, looking to further nullify any chance of someone attacking them. Once they got far enough, the groups all joined up to a camp near the fort, where a single soldier with a pistol was in charge of things. No wonder McCarran had to send them in when Kieran could afford so little protection. Still, Emma saluted that lone sentinel and the sentinel saluted her back.
"Right, sorry. Well, people can get stupidly stubborn for no reason sometimes. See those settlers? They likely had a fine life back home, but they decided to ditch it all and give their hard-earned caps to and those goons. And those locals, who gather caps and sell them to someone like Dixon to get their fix. Andrew and his little scams… The world's full of people who know that they're deliberately fucking themselves up and others but they only care about satisfying that urge, see? It's a rush. You get a precious few seconds where you could get all the money in Vegas or where you can see the world in slow motion… and that's all that matters, even if you spend entire months recovering from the initial high. People like these, they'll never let go of that. You can try to be diplomatic or heavy-handed but in the end, that base desire wins out over everything else."
Max looked up at Emma, who felt pride upon seeing the glare on her friend's face: She was definitely getting better at them. "Are you saying it's his fault?" Spoke the soldier, sounding offended.
"Well if I go by your description and what I've seen of him, yeah. He's got a compulsory desire to reach "the top", got screwed over in New Vegas and now we have to take down the guy who hurt him…" Emma looked away from Max and at the ruins of a gutted building, where a few locals had decided to live. "Though if I'm honest, Dixon could also be of help in locating the probable murderer. Guys like him, they see a lot of people going around these parts. So we're not killing him."
"… That's fine," Shrugged Max, after an eerie pause. "But we need to find him first, right?"
"Sure. Just follow the stream of junkies… or not." Up ahead, the duo could see a man in a cap, backed by two thugs wearing BB guns. Anticipating that her friend would try something, Emma shot her arm forward to put it on Emma's shoulder, meaning to restrain her in case of an unfortunate accident. Doleetle ignored it, simmering in quiet rage instead. Oh, this is gonna be good Emma thought, as the duo arrived close to their target. Seeing two soldiers in uniform approach him, the drug dealer unfolded his arms and stepped off the wall he was leaning against.
"You're a bit far from home, aren't ya?" He spoke, letting his two guards step in front of him as a shield. "If you're not there for my products, fuck off. This isn't your territory."
"You Dixon?"
Dixon blinked at that statement. "… Yeah. What? You here to arrest me or something? Do you know the kind of shi-"
"All yours, Maxxie." Emma let go and let Max charge in. The enraged youth bypassed the two guards completely and easily reached Dixon, whom she tackled to the ground with ease. Stunned by the sudden impact, Dixon could do nothing as Max straddled him and began to pummel his face with a rain of punches. They were hazaphardly thrown, lacking in caution and skills, but the drug dealer didn't seem to be much of a fighter and, even if he was, the sudden attack had thrown him off enough for Max to seize the upper hand. The bodyguards recovered quickly and one seized Max by the arm to get her off his boss while the other aimed at Emma, but he was also too slow: Effortlessly closing the distance, Emma threw a quick jab and the brute fell on his back, taking him out of the fight instantly. She did the same for the one that was holding back Max, via a quick, if somewhat graceless, punch to the back of the head. Max didn't bother to notice Emma's assistance, nor the fact that she had been seized, and instead kicked a barely-recovering Dixon before once again going to town on him, staining her knuckles and the street with his blood.
Emma could stop him, and indeed she'd need to do it fast: He could provide some information, and the brawl could attract attention. But she insisted on watching, if only for a few seconds, as Max continued to hit away at Dixon. If not for Emma, she'd surely kill him, and even as it stood now, he probably needs to get checked-up by a doctor before he could be interrogated.
She was feeling proud in some way. Now, Max was definitely growing to be one of them. That tranquility and weakness taught in Shady Sands were flaking off bit by bit, with each encounter. Before too long, she'd be a proper soldier, used to the ways of the Wastes.
A proper Wastelander.
…
In other news: The NCR has announced the capture of a high-ranking member of Caesar's Legion. The importance and name of the individual have yet to be revealed, but rumors within the army say that the prisoner could be a Centurion. General Oliver, from his headquarters at Hoover Dam, has saluted the success of his troops.
"It is a very important victory for the NCR. I can only applaud the courage and skills displayed by my troops in capturing the target! I am truly glad to be leading such courageous men in the fields of honor. Unlike those Legion dogs, our brave troopers will not succumb to anger or display needless brutality: They will complete their task dutifully, and without needless bloodshed. Godbless, troopers."
The NCR has refused to disclose the current location of the prisoner, which isn't too surprising! We wouldn't want some of our fans in the Legion to snitch!
The preceding segment was sponsored by the Silver Rush. Silver Rush. Feel the rush of a warm laser in your hand.
…
Chapter 13 is done! The more I go along, the edgier Max gets I guess! I'm glad to have gotten reviews for the last chapter, thank y'all all for the input.
I hope I've done Arcade well for this one. It's a nice thing to write canon characters but the original writing was done so well in the base game that it can feel difficult to live up to it, I do hope I've put up a good effort.
See you guys next week! Do tell me what you thought of this chapter!
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