News of House's fall had reached the ears of the NCR Embassy in New Vegas and Ambassador Crocker was rightfully angry. Apparently, an NCR ranger was helping the Russians in dispatching the ruler of the city. One could see it uncalled for to bring the person who participated in the coup-d'etat, but he was going to deal with the political fallout of an unsanctioned attack of an independent settlement. Best he talked to Senator Richmond's daughter.

The door to his office swung open as two MPs escorted a fully-armored woman enter the room with their batons at the ready. "You two can leave us, Ranger Richmond and I have a lot to talk about." Without question, the two departed and closed the door on their way out. "We have a lot to unwrap, but why the hell did you join the Russians in overthrowing House? There was no sanction from our military! Explain yourself?!"

Angelique lowered her head. "A friend was being threatened, ambassador. House was going so far as to send the Van Graffs to kill a Russian and his girlfriend at Camp Golf. Plus, we planned it from the start."

"Planned it? Did you come up with a plan to get rid of House without even consulting us on the matter? The rest of New Vegas will look upon this as if we did this and will harass our citizens and soldiers in Freeside."

She rolled her eyes. "I was on House's payroll," The woman added. "In some ways, I got rid of any possible chances of a threat to the republic, because he was going so far as to sabotage the meeting between us and the Brotherhood of Steel alongside gaining the trust of the Great Khans. I don't know what for, but it was clear he was not fond of our presence in the Mojave."

Crocker rubbed his forehead. "Damn it all. What of the securitrons? Are they still active? What about the Russians?"

"Yes, but without House to direct them they started standing down and returning to their duties of over glorified checkpoint guards and policemen at the strip," Angelique answered. "Regarding the Russians, it turns out Artyom and the people who fought alongside them were from a place called Exhibition. The Legion attacked their home and forced them to become refugees so they've taken residence in the Lucky 38 as of right now."

"This could be handled better, but the that is a luxury we cannot afford." He admitted. "With the Legion coming up from the south, we're going to get every assistance you can get. Next time, inform me about something that drastic, I do not like surprises."

"Yes, sir." The courier answered before she departed from the room and made her way out of the embassy.

The ambassador sat back in his chair, realizing that with House gone, the city of New Vegas was up for grabs - whether it be by the Russians, his people, or Caesar's Legion.

Silence was all anybody could hear in the room as Angelique and Veronica typed away on their keyboards where Mr. House once talked to them. In the meantime, Artyom sat in his chair while the others were celebrating in other parts of the Casino and looting what they could find - save for his bedroom. Yet, he had no time for celebrating when he reached into his pockets and pulled out the mark of Caesar.

A strange electrical noise echoed from the computers. "Okay, I got something. House needed this chip to upgrade his securitrons to actually get rid of the NCR and the Legion at the same time." The courier stated. "Now we can change the tide against the Legion if we upgraded the remaining securitrons and assist the NCR and the Russians against Caesar."

Veronica glanced over from her keyboard. "Really? Is that why House had hired us? To give him this kind of serious firepower?"

"Basically. However, there is a problem."

"What kind?" The scribe wondered.

"The facility to properly upgrade the securitrons is inside Legion territory," Angelique answered. "Unless we can magically get in there, it's nearly impossible to get inside without getting fucked. Does anyone have ideas?"

Artyom took a long look at the mark of Caesar and realized his situation. Perhaps the timing was perfect to get rid of the people who destroyed his home. "I do."

The duo turned around, only for the courier to widen her eyes. "Artyom, where did you get that? Why do you have the mark of Caesar in your hands?"

"A man by the name of Vulpes Inculta had given this to me when I was on my way to Camp Golf. Apparently, Caesar was interested in me. I don't know what to do."

"That's perfect!" She exclaimed. "You can go there and bring the Platinum Chip to upgrade the securitrons. Caesar wouldn't know that he has an army of robots waiting for him."

He scratched the back of his head. "I don't know. You are far more better than installing that than me. Why don't you go?"

Her facial expression changed. "I can't. Caesar meant for you to come only you. It's also not helped when I'm a woman in ranger armor." Her hands gesturing to her cloak surrounded in armor. "You - on the other hand - are not associated with the NCR in any way. It's the perfect reason to get into the Legion camp on the other side of the Colorado."

Artyom became worried. "Give me some time to think about this. I just survived being hunted down by Mr. House, the last thing I need is to be killed at a meeting place."

She rolled her eyes. "Okay, I'll give you tomorrow until then. Just don't stray too far. I might get other ideas."

Veronica voiced her concerned. "You know there are better ways than to rush him into a hastily made plan. I'd be worried too if the leader of a group of assholes in football equipment were interested in me."

"New Vegas can't fall to the Legion." She countered. "I'd rather have a bunch of Russian nobodies take charge than to let those people take it."

Without a word, Artyom slipped the medallion into his pockets and proceeded into the elevator. Although his friends and girlfriend were partying at the bar, he didn't want to spoil his moment there. Perhaps he could get some thinking in the casino since few people used that place. After entering the elevator, he waited and quietly thought about the future. There were threats of all sorts that he had to face in order to survive in this foreign world.

When the elevator doors opened, he saw Sukhoi standing near the doorway, but he was talking to two soldiers clad in kevlar and pre-war helmets. "So what you're telling me is that we can't stay in the casino?"

"Yes." One of the men replied. "It would make us look bad in the eyes of the republic since they've been eyeing this city."

What were the Polis Rangers doing here? "Dad, what's going on?" He asked while approaching the conversation.

His stepfather turned around with a short smile before he turned his full attention towards the bearded soldier. "I've been talking to this fine gentlemen. You may not know him, but this is Colonel Miller of the Spartan Order. He came here to investigate our coup-de-dat yesterday."

In the mind young man, he didn't know what to do. To be in the presence of the man who commanded the entirety of the Polis Rangers. Artyom timidly approached the commander. "H-Hello, colonel."

The older man placed his gaze upon him, but reached his hand out. "So you are the man who caused so much commotion that I had to come all this way from a coalition meeting to tell you how much fallout the Order has to deal with? Do you mind telling me why you overthrew the man who ruled New Vegas?"

Artyom glanced at his stepfather, who gave him a comfortable nod of the head. "He was going to kill me."

"Why?"

"Colonel, do you recall of that letting with the Brotherhood of Steel?" He asked.

Miller's eyes widened. "How did you know about that? It wasn't meant to be public?"

He lowered his head. "I'm actually friends with one of them. She is a nice person, but I'm getting off-topic. The reason it should come to mind was because of him. House gave me explicit orders to disrupt negotiations between the Brotherhood of Steel and the NCR, I hold a high respect for the Order ever since Hunter went so far as to help Exhibition. When he learned I wouldn't follow those orders, he tried to kill me. So I formed some plan to try and get rid of him for my sake and plenty of others."

With that reasoning over, the Ranger commander placed his hands on his belt. "Chyort, this is going to be difficult to tell General Oliver and the others. Why didn't you come to us before? Surely you would have received backing to keep this guy off your back."

"Ever since the Dark Ones placed brought me to the Mojave, I thought I was the only one in the desert," Artyom answered. "The odds of finding fellow Russians was impossible until recently."

"So you've been in the Mojave longer than anyone else in this room?"

Artyom nodded his head. "Yes sir."

"For a kid from Exhibition, you did one hell of a job surviving," He commented. "That being said, we're going to be working together from now one. You seem too vital to hand you over to the NCR for questioning."

Sukhoi spoke. "What does the NCR have to do with my son?"

Colonel Miller folded his arms and turns his full attention towards him. "The NCR and House had this stressful relationship with each other. Some treaties were established and both parties were busy making sure they kept their word. Now with House dead, they think he took New Vegas for himself."

"So do they intend to take the city from themselves?"

"Yes. One of my Rangers got enough information after talking up with Colonel Moore about the NCR's intentions." He answered. "They've been eyeing this city ever since their scouts found the Mojave."

"Chyort, so where does that leave us?"

"Our options are few, but convincing the other Metro factions to unite is out of the question. The only reason we're still alive is because we all equally hate the Legion at the moment. Now we can try to support Artyom's claim for the city and help the NCR out from there, but we hardly have the means to enforce those claims."

"Wait, your considering on letting us have the city in the first place?" Sukhoi wondered. "I know our home at Exhibition is gone, we can still manage."

"The Polis Council sees the entire situation differently. New Vegas represents an opportunity to get everyone out of Moscow, although the improvements are small, it is definitely better for the overall survival of humanity. There is so much those pre-war stockpiles could help us until we run out."

Artyom realized how important his role was in the situation he found himself in. It was confirmed that his home was gone, but he had the chance to gain a new one in the ancient American city. Based off the few novels back home, the stalker realized he was almost like every protagonist who was placed in this threads of fate. Is this what the Dark Ones had in mind when they brought him to this place? Odd how he played as an essential role in these times, but that was enough thinking for the time being. If this city was to become his new home, it was time he would find a way to defend it. "Colonel Miller, there might be a way for my people from Exhibition to stay in New Vegas and give the NCR a second consideration into taking the city."

The Spartan Commander snapped his head to see the young man. "What do you have in mind? Since you're the only person here with enough knowledge around New Vegas, it better be useful to both the Order and your fellow refugees."

"Several companions and I have been working up a plan to get something upgraded and give us a fighting chance when we need it."

"Show me."

Trucks from Camp McCarran had been transporting troops into the town of Novac. The locals were surprised and shock at the number of troopers that were being dropped off. Yet, not all of them were NCR troopers or rangers. Some consisted of Nazis, Communists, and the occasional platoon of Hanza soldiers. Reports of Caesar's Legion mobilising its forces south of Novac had brought great alarm to the men all around. Although some of the more experienced soldiers seemed calm about the situation, Artyom learned that the last time a major battle broke out between the two sides was at the Battle of Hoover Dam.

The kind of history that was carried about the previous battle did little to calm the faces of NCR troopers he was riding with. Apparently, the republic was busy trying to consolidate its gains in the Mojave, but the Legion was just faster at doing some damage to make life difficult for the Californians. He couldn't blame the scarred looks on the faces of the men. After all, none of them faced the horrors of the Sierra Madre or participated in the bloody fighting alongside a former legate.

When the trucked halted at the gas station, he could hear the driver yell out. "Dismount people! Grab everything you need cause if you don't, it ain't coming back!"

Nobody hesitated as they grabbed their weapons and equipment before jumping out from the back of the truck. With his American rifle hanging from around his neck, the stalker looked around to see if Colonel Miller followed him into the town of Novac as well. Like a lost puppy, he looked around to see the NCR troopers go to their designated squads and platoons before sergeants and officers took them away. "There you are. For a moment, I thought you were still back at the assembly area. Would have been embarrassing to go in a circle."

Artyom turned around to find an older Polis Ranger with his helmet underneath his arm. "You're the colonel's lieutenant, am I right?"

He shrugged his shoulders. "Just his friendly face in the army, but that is enough of that. My name is Uhlman, I'm going to be getting you as close as I can to the Legion lines and letting you go."

"Well, when do we start?"

"Soon." Uhlman answered. "Should have taken some shots before we do receive them, our drunkenness might actually throw any potential snipers… if they have any to begin with."

Artyom slowly smiled as he reached into his backpack and pulled out a glass of whiskey from within. "Now that you're mentioning drinking, my girlfriend packed this for me, but I can share. It's not like I can hold my glass anytime soon." Then he reached for the cork and pulled it out.

"Your girlfriend packed you some alcohol, I'm downright jealous. Somehow I need to know a story how a stalker like you managed to get into a relationship with a cowgirl running around with a Duplet."

"It involved drinking and me chasing a man who stole my Kalashnikov." He replied.

"Chyort, remind me never to be on your bad side. Well, we better get going. Might be hard to get you through if there is any fighting going on." His hand reached for the bottle before he took a quick swig of its contents. "For the motherland and dying of old age."

After the Polis Ranger and the stalker finished up their preparations, they began jogging to the south and catching the sentries off-guard. The desert was vast in these lands and Artyom already missed the comfortable lifestyles of New Vegas, but he would have to complain later as he pulled out the mark of Caesar and hanged it around his neck. In the meantime, he also kept the Platinum Chip in his pockets.

The deserted landscape did little to comfort the two as every direction could be filled with hostile wildlife or an ambush spot for raiders. The latter reminded the stalker about his time when he was confronted by a Powder Ganger on his way out of Goodsprings. Yet, their traveling did warrant some undesirable attention as gunfire shot out from their right and whistled past Uhlman's helmet.

A small depression was available for them as Uhlman grabbed him by the collar and slipped down. "Artyom, put on your helmet!" He ordered before he prone to the ground and slowly climbed up the dirt to see their assailant. "Looks like we're not alone right now. I'd say someone had spotted us, but detective work doesn't appreciate the obvious."

When he finished strapping on his helmet, he joined the soldier in scanning the surrounding area. "Do you have a clear idea where they are?"

"Nyet. I just know they're firing at us in this general direction."

Much like before, the Dark Ones had intervened on his behalf. 'Find danger… destroy…' His vision had started to change, identifying dozens of red figures approaching them with a whole assortment of weapons - some melee while others with pistols and shotguns.

He reached for his American rifle and aimed it at the assailants. Once the vision was gone, he got a clear sight of the targets before him. Their dirtied faces was clear they didn't have the luxury of showering, but did it make it easier to shoot at. "I see them." Gunfire echoed out from his rifle, striking those who were caught out in the open. Some screamed while others swore out in his general direction. What did they expect to receive?"

Those that didn't fall had charged, but unlike the others they were armored in metal plates. Their weapons of choice didn't really face the stalker as he cut them down with American-made ammunition. A man with a lever-action rifle had opened up on him, but it was not enough to match the rate of fire of a modern assault rifle.

After the carnage was over, Uhlman let out a small whistle. "That's fast. I wish I had reflexes like yours."

He turned his head towards him. "Really, I thought it was really slow?"

"Not really. Either I'm slow or you're really good." He answered, but more figures approached the bodies of the fallen raiders. "Look, I see red. Are those Legion?"

"I think so. I'm a bit familiar with their armor so it does appear to be that way."

A womanly shrieked echoed across the way as two Legionnaires tied a woman's hands together and carried her on their backs. She yelled out for help, but Artyom could do nothing except pity her. He needed to get into Legion territory and the last thing he needed was to cause a mess because there was a wrong deed being done. It felt wrong in every fiber of his bone; however, the plan needed to be carried out.

"I think it's my time to go right now."

"If that's the case, my mission is done." Uhlman replied. "I'll stay here for a bit, but you go ahead."

"Are you sure you'll be okay all by yourself?"

He smiled. "Don't you worry about me, I'm a Ranger."

"Ladna, good luck on your way back."

"Likewise, kid. You need it more than I do."

The young man rose from the dirt and approached the Legion patrol dragging the screaming woman until one of the men stepped forward to silence her with his fist. "Our capture is finally quiet. Are there anymore worth bringing into the Legion?"

Another shrugged it off. "Their wounds appear to be too much for them to handle. It will fester and they will get sick and die. Whoever shot them had the intention to go for the kill."

"That reminds me, where is their attacker. He might be around here somewhere. Keep your heads about, there is still danger here."

When he came closer, one of the seven soldiers turned around brought his rusty rifle to bear. "You there, stay where you. Move any closer to Caesar's Legion and we will shoot you. Dare to take our capture and we will give you a pain worse than death."

Despite the threat of death, Artyom reached for the mark and presented it to them. Their eyes widened in shock and awe while those who drew their weapons and lowered them. "Your Caesar had demanded my attention. I request to be brought to him."

. . .

Patience was not a virtue that Legate Lanius was known for and it showed. His soldiers remained uneasy as he stood tall upon the hill overlooking the new frontlines. The flag of the bear arrogantly waved high alongside several other flags. It appears the profligates were responding to his troop movements and he wished he could order the attack upon the enemy, but orders from Caesar took priority.

A centurion approached him with his head lowered. "Great Legate, a dissolute has approached one of our patrols."

The masked warrior looked down on him. "What importance does this dissolute have to earn my attention? Nail him on the cross if you must to inspire terror in the enemy."

"He carries the mark of Caesar and he requests a meeting with him." That was enough to grab the legate's attention. "Shall he allow him passage into the camp?"

"Yes. It is the reason why we are even here." Lanius answered. "However, I want to see him personally. What kind of person would earn the attention of our lord?"

"Understood, I will bring him forward." The centurion acknowledged as Legionary soldiers were taking up positions in the hilly terrain and await for any potential NCR attacks. Time passed as he returned with primes escorting the stranger in the familiar, yet different, clothed armor. "Here he is, sire."

The stranger looked around with his curiosity focused solely on the individual who stepped down from the top of the hill to meet with him. "You must be the profligate that he has been waiting for. Out of the many maggots who live in the squalor of New Vegas, a desert ranger is the least I was expecting of. Who are you?"

He brought his head tall, but his accent was unlike any he had expected. "My name is Artyom Alekseyevich Chyornyj."

There were few times that Lanius would be surprised, but he couldn't help the smile underneath his mask. "Here I thought I would be meeting the usual rats in the land of the Mojave. Instead, I find one of the rumored Russians that have aligned themselves with the profligates. If your people can do well in battle against the Fiends, I pray that they will become worthy foes for my blade and slaves to Caesar."

Artyom scoffed at his words.

"Have I offend you, maggot?"

He shook his head. "My people survived twenty years in conditions you couldn't dream up in your own worst nightmare. The monsters we've fought in those tunnels would make your soldiers look like children. You will not find us as sheep."

"Good. There will be something more enjoyable in the future. The NCR hasn't left much satisfaction with their soldiers, save for their rangers." Then he looked to the soldiers escorting Artyom. "This conversation should now end and you should now go to Caesar. Take him to Cottonwood Cove, a raft should be waiting for him."

After being brought into the camp of the enemy brought no comfort to the stalker. Soldiers clad in makeshift armor - made up of football and other miscellaneous equipment - trained and beaten war drums in open ground. Yet, it was not the only sight to see. Women were seen doing back-breaking work of bringing bags of goods - more than anyone should be doing. Children were being beaten for being last in a race against their peers. What kind of society accepted this sort of treatment as normal?

A Legionary who was leading him to Caesar had stopped him in front of a tent. "As a precaution, you must hand over all your weapons and undesirables over to us."

He was surprised they even let him carry his weapons this far into the camp, but he'd rather not give them any ideas until then. He reached for his Shambler and handed the makeshift assault shotgun over to soldier. "Be careful with this one, if you accidentally drop this you might kill someone with it."

After he disarmed himself, save for one weapon kept hidden, he handed his backpack over before he was given a nod. "You may enter."

Without hesitation, Artyom opened the flaps of the tent just to be met by tall and lean soldiers. Unlike his previous encounter with the Legionaries, these men were armed with strange weapons that one could use to punch with. However, they were not keen on being watched. "Move dissolute, Caesar is waiting."

He walked past them and discovered a small patch of land whose only exposure was to the skies. An man was sitting on his throne made from bones and skins of animals slain. Yet, it appeared he was not paying attention to the person standing before him. His head was resting in his hand before his eyes glanced forward and noticed the Russian. Flanked by bodyguards and attack dogs, he appeared confident in starting the discussion. "So you must be the stranger who has piqued my interest. Vulpes Inculta gives you a passage to come into my camp and not long ago, you had removed House from his seat in New Vegas. I am impressed since there are few people who have the courage to take on an army of machines - save for my Legion. Tell me, what reason did you have to dispatch him without even a single order from me?"

The young man didn't even know what to say. After all, he was in the presence of the man who ordered the attacks on his home station. His words had to be chosen carefully as a comforting reassurance came from the Dark Ones. 'He is dangerous… we are worse… You will be protected… if harmed…'

"What? Do you have any words to say to me?" Caesar questioned.

His lips departed and he let out his thoughts. "House intended to kill me. I had no choice."

He laughed at his response. "That is quite a motivation indeed. A story about a foreigner who goes across the wasteland to find the man who shot him, scares him out of the Tops Casino, and kills the ruler of New Vegas. You are someone who could get something done when you put your mind to it and in this case, you weren't even trying." Then his smile disappeared. "That kind of willpower right there is why I took such a keen interest in you. My armies will be set to take Hoover Dam and the west shall fear me. Now? I need someone who could serve the Legion in the best way possible, undermining their efforts on the other side of the Colorado."

"What will you have me do?" Artyom asked with reluctance.

"I have a task that may work, but first I need to know whether you will do it for me?" His gaze fell upon the bodyguards beside him. "Praetorians, search him. I want to see if he has the Platinum Chip on his person."

Taken by surprise, the young man found himself patted down for the very thing he didn't want to lose. It was his most prized possession and now it was being taken from him. Yet, he was also terrified as they were going to find out about his hidden sidearm.

When the searching was over, two items were removed from the Russian - the Platinum Chip and Joshua Graham's pistol. A praetorian walked over to Caesar and presented it to him. His hand reached out to the strange chip and inspected the item. "My Legion sees technology as a terrible limit keeping humanity back from greatness. After all, it is what brought down civilization two hundred years ago." Then he handed it back. "Behind my tent, there is a place full of technology, but a key that needs to be opened. I have tried to destroy those doors with many means, but they remained shut. Now? This key shall open those doors."

Another praetorian walked over to him with Artyom's pistol in hand. "Caesar, he was apparently armed. This is what we found."

Caesar's eyes lit up at the weapon being presented to him. He immediately grabbed the pistol off his bodyguard's hand and inspected it. "I know where this weapon is from." His head snapped to the disarmed stalker. "Where did you get Joshua Graham's pistol?!"

Author's Note: That's all folks!

Aren serathy: It's also perfect when it comes to dealing with those creatures under the surface.

Artyom-Dreizehn: I also like the Elite Riot Gear from Lonesome Road as well. Though we finally get to know more about Angelique's side and how she came to be.

Dr. Killinger: You're welcome. I'm glad that this story is doing better than some of the Metro/Fallout crossovers I've seen on this site.