A well-dressed man sat alone in the cafe with his newspaper out while he reached for his mug. After washing down his throat with the warm sensation to keep him awake, the old man stroked his beard with his gaze reading the newest topic at hand.

News of the Russians had reached the political steps of Shady Sands. Army officers questioned whether they were a threat to the New California Republic, scientists began to conjecture about the lost knowledge that was erased in the past, and brahmin barons started writing up the number of expenses to travel to the Mojave just to trade. For good or for bad, the arrival of the foreigners had stirred the capital to life. There were so many questions that people had about them.

While the politician had been busy reading his morning away, there was a commotion of people gathering around the bar. The NCR still had people who were illiterate and the only way news could be passed around was through radio. It wasn't as bad as the old times, but he hoped that the NCR could have the funds to support their education. After all, he hated the idea of a functioning democracy where a fraction of the populace didn't know how to read.

A waiter came over to his table with a fresh batch of coffee waiting for him. "Mr. Richmond, would you like to have more coffee?"

He smiled as he moved his mug closer to the edge. "Yes please." Perhaps more black coffee couldn't hurt. It was still an hour before he had to go back to work.

"Senator, is there anything going on that may be worth sharing to the rest of us?" The blonde asked while hot coffee poured away.

"Lizzie, you know I can't do that. President Kimball would have my head for that." Politics was just as messy as a radscorpion in a deathclaw cave. "Are you still worried about Jim?" At the mere mention his name, the woman's smile had faltered before she nodded her head in confirmation. "I'll see what I can do since I'm also looking for someone in the Mojave."

Her mood brightened. "Really? You can do that?"

A chuckle escaped from his lips. "In my line of work, you tend to learn a thing or two on the side."

"Thank you." She replied as she walked away from the older man.

Senator Richmond looked out the windows with the sun rising over the city. He had been afraid of the Mojave and how it was seen as a net drain for the republic due to how far it was from any major logistical point. After the destruction of the Hopeful garrison in the Divide, the situation had turned sour. Yet, the arrival of the foreigners have turned things in the NCR's favor. Giving the old man the chance to avenge that garrison for a far more personal reason.

After the departure of Zion, Artyom and Cass were given enough supplies to make their way back to the Mojave. Yet, they also carried more than they expected. The Sorrows rewarded the stalker with what was supposed to be their inheritance, but since he helped them defeat the White Legs and reveal their belongings they had given it to him out of gratitude. It was strange that he would earn such an elevated status amongst their tribe. Even the former Legion commander - Joshua Graham - had given him a reward for his help against those who did him wrong. There was more weapons than what the young man could imagined to be carrying, but he refused to let Cass carry such a burden since she took in the belongings of the Happy Trails Caravan.

News of their death had taken a toll over her and Artyom knew such a silence. The caravaneer was coping with the loss of what could have been a good friend. Maybe they knew one-another in their line of work. There was his curiosity to ask how much she knew about Jed, but it would be rude to ask and he couldn't blame her. Such was life in this cold and harsh world.

They traveled on a lonely road to the south as they stumbled across small buildings and shacks in the distance. The Russian didn't have to look far to see the shining lights of a city underneath the sunlight. Aside from the small towns and hamlets he had come across in the wasteland, that place looked lived in. Artyom recalled the pictures of how cities were filled with thousands of people making their way from one place to another. Moscow could never repeat such a feat with it's poisonous air and mutated wildlife, but such a sight would become a reality as the duo continued to travel through a road underneath a highway in disrepair.

The closer Artyom walked towards the gates, the less that Cass appeared to be enthusiastic about going inside. When his walking pace surpassed his companion, the stalker looked around to see her stop in the middle of the road. Her eyes were filled with sorrow as she turned her head away from the path to a group of burnt ashes off-road. "Is there something wrong?" He genuinely asked. She had never expressed this strange side of her before.

A small sigh was all that could come up before she pulled out a bottle of moonshine in her hand. "One of my caravans was hit alongside this very road by raiders." The woman replied. "Before we go into the city to throw all of our money away, I want to pay my respects. It's the last thing I can do."

He thought about it for a moment, but Artyom understood that he would do the same if he was going to pay his respects to those who have died. "Yes, I can wait. Spend as much time as you need."

There was a small smile coming from his friend. "Thanks. I won't take too much. It's not like the raiders left anything behind."

Soon after, the duo walked over the ashes to see a brahmin fallen over with its pack spilling out. Yet, there was nothing, but scorch marks that appeared to have intentional. If something terrible had happened here, where was the bodies? As Cass took off her hat, Artyom began to investigate the surrounding area as he noted a depression on the side of the road. It was deep enough that it could provide enough cover for a squad to ambush several merchants all by themselves. Any smart bandit would use this for cover, especially if a merchant hired some guards to protect the merchant.

He walked near the edge of the dip, making sure he didn't slip into the ditch full of ashes. When he continued to survey the area, he noticed an unmoving body who was resting against the dirt. Unlike the rest of the scene, this was the only body aside from the dead brahmin. "Cass? Is he one of your caravan guards?"

The Rose of Sharon Cassidy made her way from the scene and stood beside the Russian. "That can't be. All of my caravans that have been hit don't leave bodies behind." Then she slipped into the ditch and approached the body on the ground. "Let me get a closer look." Cass knelt onto the ground and turned the body over, revealing a strange set of armor on the dead bald man's body with a strange weapon in his grip. However, Artyom believed he had seen that before by another person he came across. "He isn't a caravan guard. That armor, it belongs to the Van Graffs."

What did that mean then? "Who?"

She stole a glance from him as she pulled out her four-barrelled shotgun. "They're a business that specializes in selling energy weapons. If one of the bodies is here, then they're the ones responsible for all those attacks on my caravans."

"How do you know? It could be just coincidence that his body is lying here."

"Energy weapons have a tendency to burn things they touch or turn their targets into ash." Cass explained. "I don't know the science behind them, but I do know the Van Graffs are the only ones capable of doing this. They get away with shit like this."

"You're on bad terms with them?"

She shook her head. "Not really, the only time they do this is against competition." Cass answered. "Especially against other sellers who have energy weapons."

Artyom became very worried when she started loading her shotgun shells. "What are you doing?"

There was a small pause from her as she got her weapon ready. "I'm going to kill them." Then she stormed off towards the gates of New Vegas.

The way she acted was not normal for her. It was something Artyom didn't expect for her to do. Was that caravan so personal? He chased after her, worried about her well-being. "Cass, wait up!"

Although he was tired, he did not want his friend to recklessly die at the hands of these so-called 'Van Graffs'. He ran as soon as he could, watching the city's walls become clearly to see. The lights of the city were bright and vivid - a stark contrast to barren wasteland which the stalker was familiar with. By the time he reached the city's gates, Cass's figure was lost in the sea of people who entered and left as they pleased.

Upon his arrival in New Vegas, he noticed several young gathering in a circle on his right. When he walked through the gates, they turned their full attention on his person. Their gazes looked down on him, but one of them walked up to him as people bumped into him. A dark-skinned man had approached him with his arms crossed. "You seem new here. Welcome to Freeside, where a man is free to do whatever he wants whatever he likes, but do remember this - Freeside is ruled by the Kings. We run the show around these parts. You hear me?"

Artyom slowly nodded his head. It was not the first time he had encountered a such shady people, but things were different here. Better to be on good terms with the locals than test their patience. "Loud and clear. Freeside is ruled by the Kings."

The gang member moved his head in approval. "Good. If you want to have fun with some whores go to the Atomic Wrangler. Then go to the Old Mormon Fort to help you with your hangover."

"Thank you, but I'm looking for someone. Did you see a girl in orange and black armor along with a hat."

"Yeah," His finger pointed towards the gates which lead deeper into the city. "She went straight there. Hope you find her."

Without any hesitation, he pressed onward. The streets were busy with visitors and locals walking between the local shops and venders that were around. Prostitutes wore revealing clothes as they sold themselves to potential customers whom they could satisfy. People sat alongside the sidewalks as they injected needles into their systems. Everything about this place was… wrong. Were people this desperate for entertainment? To escape from their normal lives just to enjoy the fine delights in life, even if it was for a moment. All he could do was pity them as he searched for his friend in the streets.

The young man passed through the second set of city gates, only to be invited by the local businesses. On his left was a building that had neon lights turned on - the home of the Kings. When he turned to his right, there was a side street which lead to another block of businesses trying to advertise themselves to the common man. However, he saw a familiar face sticking to a corner of an alley and peek her head over to the corner store with an armored man carrying a plasma gun in his hand. Yet, she seemed to be stalking her prey as she began to load shotgun shells into the barrel of her weapon.

In any other case, she would have noticed him, but the commotion of the surrounding crowds and their numbers had allowed him to sneak up on her. "He looks well-armed." She turned around while bringing her four-barrelled Duplet to bear. Had the caravaneer not hold back, his body would have been blasted away. "Cass, it's me!" Artyom stated with his hands out.

Her nose expressed a long sigh as she leaned back against the brick wall. "You shouldn't have snuck up like that. I could have killed you."

"True, but you didn't."

Then she shook her head. "Artyom, let me have this moment. I need this. The Van Graffs need to know that the Rose of Sharon Cassidy is somebody you don't fuck with."

"Yes, but perhaps there is a better alternative than throwing your life away."

"Like what?" She demanded. "The Van Graffs play dirty and I should do the same as well. I'm going to fight fire with fire."

"Have you ever thought of planning it out?" Artyom wondered. "There might be other ways to get after them for what they did."

"Look, I've spent most of my life traveling with caravans with shotgun and dynamite in hand. Do you really think some energy weapons are going to stop me?"

"No, but it will certainly make things harder. After all, you're just only one person."

"What the hell is that supposed to mean?"

The young man thought about the situation. "I'm not knowledgeable about businesses, but why don't you bring this to some authorities?"

"Artyom, I like you, but NCR bureaucracy is slow as a brahmin on his ass."

"How about we think about it over a drink? Maybe we'll think of something productive."

Cass chuckled at his idea. "Alright, I'll bite." Then the expression on her face changed someone caught her eye. "Holy shit, is that who I think it is?"

He turned around, only to find two familiar faces from a journey to save several people from the Sierra Madre. A blonde woman in a blue jumpsuit was leaning on one leg with a hand on her hips. The plasma gun in hand was obvious as the red stars on her companion accompanying her. "Angelique, Pavel? It's good to see you!"

The Courier gave off a warm smile. "Good to see that both of you are alive."

"Where is Veronica and Christine?" The caravaneer wondered.

"We went our separate ways." Pavel answered. "Veronica wanted to bring her back to her family, so it was better for both of us to simply go on. Shit, I'm glad to see that both of you are alive. I'm noticing that you're carrying more than the last time I remembered."

Artyom nodded his head with a smile. "It's a long story."

Angelique lifted her plasma gun and rested it on her shoulders. "Then we can talk about it over some drinks. Let's get into the Strip and be on our merry way. Besides, we're one step closer to dealing with the asshole who shot me in the head."

When the group was past the gates full of armed robotic guards, the level of poverty and wealth between the two parts of the city was like night and day. Unlike the poor and the downtrodden in the streets of Freeside, those who walked in the streets had worn fine clothes on their person. Yet, there was a surprise that Pavel Morozov pointed out. "That is odd. There seems to be a lot of NCR soldiers around these parts. How come?"

Angelique was quick to speak. "Yeah, the republic tends to rotate their troops out by sending them over to the Strip to spend their pay away. Not the best thing to throw money away, but it's better to relieve their stress."

Before they could even approach one of the many luxurious casinos, a robotic machine approached the party with a smiling face of a cowboy. Although it moved on a single wheel, Artyom was surprised at the sophisticated design that allowed the machine to remain balanced. "Howdy partners, I see y'all managed to get in without any trouble."

"Victor, it's good to see a friendly face around these parts. The last time we met was at Goodsprings."

"Indeed, it's good to see you and that Ruskie fellow are still alive."

"Who is the Ruskie fellow?" Artyom asked.

"You silly." Victor answered. "I was the one who dug you out from the grave. You should thank Doc Mitchell for keeping your bodies together."

Then the Courier stepped forward to talk with 'him'. "Now that you're here, what are you going to do?"

A slight chuckle escaped from the robot. "All four of you have been invited to the Lucky 38 at the request of Mr. House."

"Mr. House? The Mr. House?" She seemed to have been shocked by the name.

The robot began to confirm her suspicions. "Yes darling, Mr. House is my boss. He says he got a job of your particular skills."

"What in it for us?"

"Miss, this kind of business should be discussed inside. I think you will appreciate this more than anybody."

"How likely am I not going into a trap?" She asked.

"Mr. House is a man of his word. After all, you were carrying a package that wanted so badly."

Angelique crossed her arms. "Alright, introduce your boss to him."

Victor immediately turned around and rolled up the steps and into the doors of the Lucky 38. In the meantime, there were great doors that slide open and exposed their entrances to the world. Artyom watched as the passing bystanders had stopped in their tracks and turned to see the entrance. Their reactions expressed only one fate for him, something was going on and he didn't feel comfortable with it.

The courier took her first step, but the caravaneer voiced her opinion. "Are you sure we should follow him? It could be a trap."

She shook her head. "I don't know Cass. If he was the one receiving my package, then I would like some answers. Maybe he might tell what Artyom and I got ourselves into."

Pavel stole glances from the others. "We might as well see who this Mr. House is. Perhaps he is like the Wizard of Oz?"

"What the hell is the Wizard of Oz?"

He rolled his eyes. "I forgot, pre-war references. Not like any of you will figure it out."

"I do." Artyom commented.

"You don't count." Then the young man became disappointed.

Angelique lead the group as she clenched her fists. "Don't know about you guys, but I'm going in."

When the party were walking over the steps, the stalker couldn't help, but feel like he was being watched. There was something awful behind his back as the bystanders whispered to one-another about his party group making their way to the doors. It was like he was stepping into a situation where there was no turning back.

After entering the doors, Artyom was amazed at the sight he discovered. The roads in disrepair were nothing to the building's interior design. It was as if the bombs happened, but the people left their workplaces and did not create much of a mess. Years of seeing things in disrepair had become a norm, but to see the room in such pristine condition made him awe in wonder. Yet, the lack of life did catch his attention. The only 'living' fauna were the two machines that almost resembled Victor's frame; however, their faces were simply an image of a policeman staring at him.

Upon getting closer to the center of the room, the party was stopped by Victor at a elevator entrance. "While Mr. House does intend to see y'all, he only wants Angelique and the Ruskie who was shot in the head."

Cass stared at him. "Why?"

"My boss considers this business personal. As I understand, both of you will have to leave your friends and conduct business behind closed doors." He explained. "You should consider yourselves lucky that they were included in the invitation as well."

"So what do we do?" She asked. "Explore around."

"He's okay with that. As long as you don't burn down the building."

Pavel and Cass stole glances from one-another as he activated the elevator buttons.

"Alright you two, walk right on in. He's waiting for you."

After the elevator doors had opened, the courier and the stalker stepped inside as Artyom looked over his shoulder to see a worried communist and an uncomfortable caravaneer. He assured her with a warm smile before the elevator closed on him. As time passed by, nothing was said as the levels from the ground floor had begun to increase. Then he noticed Angelique eyeing something on his person. "Hey Artyom, where did you find that gun?"

He was confused for a few seconds, but then he remembered the weapon that was gifted to him by the war chief of the Dead Horses. "This pistol?" His hand pulled the weapon out of his holster as he inspected it before the courier. "It was gifted to me by a war chief."

"Really? You must have done something important to get that kind of attention." She replied. "Who was the war chief."

"Joshua Graham, better known by everyone as the Malpais Legate of Caesar's Legion." Artyom explained.

When he said the man's name, she was taken aback by his nonchalant statement. "Hold up, you met Joshua Graham in person?"

"Yes. He is quite a person to meet. Too religious for my liking, but he's a good guy."

"A good guy? He was fighting for Caesar's Legion. Do you have any idea how terrible he is?" Angelique wondered it was quite understandable that he was an outsider who did not know any better. "He fought for Caesar and anybody who fights for Caesar is some backwater savage."

He shook his head. "Joshua used to be for the Legion, but after Caesar had ordered the White Legs to hunt him down and eventually kill him, he does not share such a sentiment."

"He's still Legion. Nothing about that is ever going to change."

Artyom glanced at his pistol and slipped it back into his holster. "You would be surprised how much a man like him can change."

The elevator doors had slid open with another of those strange machines out to greet them. Unlike the cowboy robot that saw them off, this one carried the face of a smiling woman. The feminine synthetic voice spoke from its speakers. "Hello dears, Mr. House has been expecting you. Why don't you follow me downstairs and we'll see him face to face."

Angelique began to ask a question. "Who are you?"

"Why I am Jane - Mr. House's favorite girl. Don't give that look, I don't have the body, but I am the girl real-life girl." She answered. "Now follow me."

The duo stepped out of the elevator and followed after the robot. As they made their way down one level, Artyom could not help, but feel impressed at the sheer amount of electronic equipment that was present. Yet, the large screen at the center of it all was only expressing one message only.

'Connection Lost. . .'

Then the message disappeared and was immediately replaced by the image of a man's face staring back at them. His gaze was cold and emotionless, but the voice speakers were enough to tell that Mr. House had arrived. "Good afternoon, I hope your travel to New Vegas was… a pleasant one."

The Courier stood in her tracks and simply expressed her fill of excitement. "Holy shit, I'm talking to Mr. House himself. I am honored to be invited."

"Be honored. It has been two-hundred years since the Lucky 38 had any proper inhabitants. The invitation was not an option I was willing to use lightly." The man behind the screen answered. "Pleasantries aside, I believe both of us may work together and benefit the future. I am offering a job that can turn New Vegas into a rising star if both of you work for me and as a bonus - I am willing to let you terminate Benny yourselves."

"Benny? How the hell do you know about him?" Angelique asked.

"It is quite simple, really. Benny worked for me until his agenda worked against my vision of the future when he tried to put a bullet in both of you. Thankfully, Victor was there to ensure that you remained safe."

"Apparently, he failed in that job. I had to deal with a couple days worth of meds."

His voice expressed a long sigh. "Yes, I didn't intervene since he would figure out that I was watching him."

While the conversation continued about the man who shot the duo, Artyom looked around to see that this place was quite dusty and old. If what Mr. House said about this place was true then there was bound to be issues with the dust essentially everywhere - including the electrical equipment that was displayed before him. As his eyes searched for anything interesting, he noticed two robots standing on the duo's left flank. Then he glanced over to his right, but there was none to be in his way.

Everything about that moment was odd. Surely there would have been more guards in the surrounding area. Yet, they were oddly positioned underneath the set of stairs that led to the second floor. Unless there was something of importance that required several of these machines to be there. The stalker would have to make a mental note of that place as Mr. House grabbed his attention. "Young man, I know that you didn't deserve to be caught in this mess, but I would like to know why you're after Benny."

He quickly put his thoughts aside and returned to the matter at hand. "Benny stole what was mine - a Kalashnikov to be precise. It was a gift from a friend of mine and he took it away while I six-feet-under."

"Then that makes two of us. Benny stole from both of us. I think we can come into agreement and establish that our motivations have brought us together at this very moment. While both of you can walk in and gun him down, I prefer that you both of you find a moment to plan this matter out. Benny carries an object called the Platinum Chip and assaulting the Tops Casino will only give him enough time to escape from both of you. Yet, I do have several options which may interest you…"

Author's Note: I was honestly having trouble trying to get Artyom and Cass back into the Mojave, but sometimes a game of Crusader Kings 2 and Hearts of Iron IV can help out bring some writing will back into action. (I'm still new to the game)

Paladin Bailey: As much as I admire the Desert Rangers, they will not be introduced into the fic as they have already been incorporated into the NCR Armed Forces to deal with Caesar's Legion. However, the next chapter does offer me some options regarding the Legion outpost in the south.

Aren Serathy: Indeed it is.