Chapter 14

City of Sin

Upon their first arrival in Freeside, Sandra and Niner spent their late afternoon observing every sight and scene—the good and the bad.

Niner marveled at the weaponry for sale in Mick n' Ralph's, and Sandra gave away her plastic-wrapped dinner to a homeless child on the streets after watching the young boy try to rip a giant rat's carcass open. The Vegas lights danced beautifully past the great gates of Vegas, and Freeside's own lights shone against the darkening Nevada sky as well—particularly the ones that belonged to the Atomic Wrangler. Sandra and Niner grinned devilishly the moment they walked inside—the place was pumped, packed with customers and blaring with music. The two of them forgot about finding a place to stay for the night; instead, they spent their evening partying, drinking like mad and dancing like morons.

At some point—in Sandra's drunken stupor—she grinned dumbly when she spotted Niner against the far wall, furiously making out with a hooker, ED-E hovering above them and twittering madly, neither Niner nor his hooker caring that they were in a crowd. Sometime later, Sandra made the impulsive decision to wander out of the Wrangler, meandering through Freeside at nighttime in the hopes of discovering all the places this town had to offer.

Sandra walked in a crooked zig-zag down the road, smiling up at the House of Impersonation before wandering past the Old Mormon Fort. Somehow, she ended up on the darker side of town, a place housing only rubble and vagrants, little else.

Sandra blinked several times, her head lost to a fog as her legs carried her crookedly down the darkened street. Her eyes narrowed, spotting a figure up ahead, a stranger, standing at the end of an alleyway and waving at her, motioning for her to approach. Shrugging, Sandra wandered over to him.

Before she could reach him, the stranger ran into the alley. Sandra sighed, peering down the alley and following after him. The stranger stopped at the end of the alley, leaning on a dumpster and gesturing for her to come closer.

"Whaaat…?" Sandra moaned, her bangs askew as they dangled over her eyes. "Whaddoya want…?"

The homeless stranger smirked, nodding down at the ground behind the dumpster.

Sandra slowed to a stop, staring downward and seeing a mangled corpse beside the dumpster and the stranger.

"Oh… look… a body," Sandra mumbled carelessly.

"Yeah," the stranger replied with a nasty grin. "Just some idiot who wandered down the wrong alley. Sound familiar?"

Sandra raised her head—and something metal collided with the back of her skull, making her vision explode into stars.

She fumbled to the ground, her adrenaline spiking—just when the stranger and his cronies encircled her, Sandra rolled to the side, just barely managing to whip out her shotgun and hammer her finger to the trigger.

Muzzle flashes illuminated the alley as Sandra shot drunkenly and wildly all around her—the three homeless crooks fell dead to the pavement, Sandra staggering to her feet and nearly falling twice, her head spinning and pulsating. She blew her bangs from her eyes and stumbled out of the alley, her head now feeling heavier than an anchor. Just when she reached the sidewalk, everything faded black, and she hit the concrete hard, falling unconscious instantly.

The moment she hit the ground, the gates of Freeside began to roll closed—as a Followers caravan had just returned from Westside, accompanied by several doctors, a few guards, and two Brahmin carrying empty water sacks. The Followers caravan moved in one large group, passing by the alleyway and heading toward the Old Mormon Fort. Only one of the doctors noticed the figure lying on the sidewalk nearby.

Arcade slowed to a stop, squinting at the girl on the sidewalk and feeling an anxious knot forming in his stomach. He turned to inform his fellow Followers, but they had already rounded the corner, vanishing from sight.

Sighing, he broke away and kneeled on the sidewalk, scanning the unconscious girl up and down and gently turning her over. A small pool of blood had formed on the pavement beneath her, her eyes closed, the acidic scent of alcohol faintly radiating from her.

"Oh… you people never learn," Arcade mumbled, giving her a light smack. "Hey… you all right? Still with us?"

Sandra's eyes barely fluttered, a figure looming over her… doctor's coat…

"Dad…?" she exhaled.

Arcade scoffed out a laugh. "No… no, my name's Arcade. Come on, now. Up and at. Looks like you took a blow to the head. Probably have a concussion. Come here…"

He gently helped her to sit upright, Sandra dazedly leaning against the nearest wall, resting her head against it and rolling her head to the side. Her bleary eyes attempted to fixate on the doctor leaning beside her, Arcade raising his brows and examining her closely.

"I… no… get out…" Sandra moaned deliriously, her eyes trying to close again. "Enclave's… there… don't…"

Arcade narrowed his eyes thoughtfully at her.

Sandra shook her head once, feeling a frightful Deja-vu.

Arcade gulped and grasped her shoulder tightly. "Hey—stay with me. Look at me. Do you know where you are?"

Sandra blinked her eyes fully open, meeting his eyes again and maintaining her stare this time. She gazed into him, releasing a slow, calming breath as she slowly returned to reality.

"Oh… fuck," Sandra breathed, glimpsing around tiredly and wincing at the throbbing pain in her skull. "Sorry, I… just… got jumped… I think…"

"Well… around here, that doesn't surprise me," Arcade replied. "You with me now? Fully awake, more or less?"

Sandra nodded and quickly stopped, as her head felt to be breaking in two.

"Sorry… I'm fine now," she exhaled. "You can go… sorry… I…"

"I really don't think I can," Arcade muttered skeptically. "I doubt if you can even walk straight."

"I couldn't walk straight before I got jumped… hah…"

"Yeah, okay. Thought so. Come on."

"Why… where…?"

"I've got just the place for you, drunken newcomer. It's the Freeside haven for all drunken newcomers. Come on, now…"

"M'kay…"

Arcade helped her to her feet, gently guiding Sandra down the road and into the Old Mormon Fort. Sandra glanced around dazedly, seeing the doctors and tents in passing as Arcade led her into his own tent, one containing two bunk beds, a table and chair, and several books from his medical research.

Sandra plopped down on the bottom bunk and passed out instantly. Arcade rolled up her sleeve, injecting a stimpack into her arm.

"There we go… should keep you from slipping into a concussion coma," Arcade said softly, draping a blanket over her. "Goodnight, now."

Sandra slept the night away peacefully in the Old Mormon Fort, Arcade quietly flipping through his books for a while before retiring to bed as well.

And meanwhile—miles away, across the river—Vulpes Inculta had just returned to the Fort, the current stronghold of Caesar's Legion. Lupis and the rest of his team disbanded to return to their homes and beds, and Vulpes was preparing to do the same—but before he could, Lucius pulled him aside.

"Lord Caesar wishes to speak with you," Lucius informed.

"At this hour?" Vulpes replied. "That's odd."

"Yes, well… he hasn't been himself lately," Lucius remarked. "But he insists that it's urgent."

Vulpes nodded and marched past him, entering the tent at the top of the hill overlooking the battle arena, the tent that belonged to the Son of Mars himself. Despite his many excursions amidst the wasteland—battles and attacks of stealth alike—he still felt a spark of severity whenever he entered the home of Lord Caesar, as did every other warrior among the tribe. A looming tension always hovered in the atmosphere around their Lord and master, and that was something that never diminished for anyone in Caesar's Legion.

Vulpes strode across the interior, passing by the veterans and giving them each a nod. When he approached the throne, Caesar sat before him, a golden leafy crown wrapped around his shaved blonde head, his eyes pensive as they rested on Vulpes intensely.

Vulpes slowly sank to his knee, giving his Lord a bow. "My Lord…"

"Vulpes," Caesar responded, his tone and expression unreadable. "First thing's first… I've heard your endeavor in Nipton was successful, as was the collection of new slaves and the attack on the NCR camp south of Novac. Have I heard correctly?"

"Yes, my Lord," Vulpes confirmed.

"Good. You may rise," Caesar permitted, Vulpes slowly reaching his feet. "I have another job for you now. Something far more important than the pacification of Nipton and Searchlight."

Vulpes raised his brows, waiting for him to explain further.

Caesar slowly reached into his red-clad garment, pulling out a golden necklace.

"The mark," Vulpes uttered.

"Yes," Caesar nodded. "This invitation is for someone of the utmost importance… someone who might play a massive role in our takeover of the Mojave wasteland."

"Yes?" Vulpes said.

"A courier with the Mojave Outpost… Courier Six," Caesar informed, placing the Mark of Caesar in Vulpes's hand. "My source outside of Freemont has just informed me that Courier Six arrived just outside of Sin City earlier today. Which means… she will likely confront her would-be assailant soon."

Vulpes stared at him, now totally lost.

Caesar's mouth curled into a faint, ominous smile. "A chairman at the Tops Casino tried to kill her for the package she was carrying. It's likely she'll be in possession of the Platinum Chip again soon… and when that happens, she needs to be brought here, nowhere else."

"Understood," Vulpes agreed. "But, if I may inquire, My Lord…"

"Go ahead."

"Why does she need to be brought here? Why not just kill her and take the chip?"

"Because she's gonna get some attention from Mr. House. We can use her as another mole on the Strip—a far more valuable mole than the ones we already have."

"Ah, I see."

"So, as my top frumentarius, you will visit the Strip again and give her the invitation yourself."

"Yes, My Lord."

Vulpes gave him a conclusive nod and another small bow, turning and preparing to leave.

"The courier should be easy to spot," Caesar called after him. "She stands out. Red hair, blue eyes, small scar on the forehead—and her name is Sandra. That's who you're looking for."

Vulpes stopped, his visage stony, staring down at the Mark of Caesar and saying nothing.

Caesar eyed him from behind. "Is there a problem, Vulpes?"

Vulpes slowly turned, meeting his eyes and shaking his head. "Not at all, My Lord. I'll depart for Vegas first thing at sunrise."

"Good. See that you do," Caesar said, waving him off. "Goodnight."

Vulpes nodded again, giving the Mark of Caesar a final stare before stuffing it away. He marched out of Caesar's tent without another word.

Sandra blinked herself awake, her vision straightening out as she absorbed an environment entirely unfamiliar to her.

It was the interior of a tent, sunlight bleeding inside from the entrance, a blonde doctor sitting at the table flipping through books, his back facing her. Sandra slowly sat upright, yawning and patting her hair down, the memories of the previous night slowly returning to her in a hazy fog.

"Oh… Jesus fuck," Sandra breathed, grasping the back of her head, which was pulsating terribly. "Who the hell hit me with a freight train…?"

Arcade spun around in his chair, perking his brow and smirking. "Rise and shine."

Sandra squinted at him. "Did I meet you last night…?"

"In a manner of speaking," Arcade replied, reaching over the back of his chair. "Arcade Gannon. Pleasure to actually meet you."

"Sandra," she replied, returning the handshake. "Thanks for the help…"

"Not at all. That's kinda my whole job here."

"Yeah… well… you haven't seen my friend around, have you? Black-haired guy with a red bandana, traveling with a robot…"

"Does your friend drink or do drugs?"

"Yes. Constantly."

"Then he'll end up here at some point," Arcade surmised. "They always do. Best to just wait."

Sandra nodded quietly, grasping her stomach and trying to ignore the gnawing hunger that was eating away at her.

"Arcade," a woman with a Mohawk—Julie—said as she leaned into the tent. "We need your help out here. We've got an escaped slave from the Legion, but he's only speaking in Latin for some reason."

Arcade nodded and stood, giving Sandra a glance. "I'll be back."

Sandra waved him off. Arcade and Julie walked away, Sandra slowly standing, peeking outside and observing everything in sight—doctors shuffling about, vagrants and refugees sitting around in groups, many of them disheveled or emaciated. Strangely, contrary to her new attitude of partying and fun-loving—now, as she gazed upon the humbling sight before her, she felt a painful empathy tugging at her heartstrings, making her chest ache.

For four years now, it was easier not to care—to work for a wage and live day to day. And now, it was far easier to throw caution to the wind, having fun with Niner and living life to the fullest despite the worldly problems of the NCR, the Legion, and everything else going on—but the state of the people in the Old Mormon Fort was a hell of a thing to wake up to, a real wakeup call, a grim reminder of the world she'd tried so hard to ignore until now.

It felt necessary to stop caring, but looking at these people, for whatever reason, that old feeling of compassion seemed to be creeping up on her whether she wanted it to or not.

Sandra sighed and ran a hand down her face. "Oh, fuck me…"

Rolling her eyes at her own emotions, she stepped out of the tent, wandering around the fort until she spotted someone who needed assistance. Two doctors were unloading crates of food recently sent from the NCR farm, and Sandra helped them to carry all the cargo inside. When she was finished, she peered into several tents until she found a makeshift surgery taking place. So, she offered her help, and the doctors requested that she bring some supplies from Julie's quarters, which she did without question.

After a while of helping people out, Sandra headed back toward Arcade's tent—and Arcade was approaching from the opposite side, both of them locking eyes.

"You know… I have to say," Arcade said, squinting curiously at her. "Of all the drunk people we've dragged in here, none of them have ever taken it upon themselves to start helping out without any rhyme or reason."

Sandra sighed, frowning and glancing around again.

Arcade observed her. "Still worried about your friend?"

"No," Sandra mumbled. "I jus… I just never… noticed all this before."

"Noticed all what?"

"All… this," Sandra said, swatting loosely at the group of vagrants sitting across the field. "I seriously didn't know how bad it was out here. I mean, I found a kid trying to eat a dead rat last night, but that was just one kid. And he seemed fine after a Nukacola and a squirrel on a stick…"

"Well… it's always like this out here," Arcade said somberly. "We do all we can, and that's all we can do. Granted, I'm always looking for new ways, but it's a fruitless waste of time in most cases. Nihil novi sub sole."

"Nothing new under the sun," Sandra sighed distantly.

Arcade's eyes narrowed. "You know Latin?"

Sandra shrugged absentmindedly, staring across the Old Mormon Fort and wearing a disturbed sort of expression.

"Hey—wild question, random shot in the dark," Sandra said suddenly, meeting his gaze again. "If I wanted to help out around Freeside, where would I go first?"

Arcade stared at her. "That is a severely loaded question."

"Why?"

"Because there are a lot of problems in Freeside. More than one person can handle."

"Then come with me," Sandra said with a smirk. "Help me out. You know this place better than I do."

Arcade gave her a strange look. "Come with you…?"

"Yeah. Me and you can work on Freeside—and I'll take you to Vegas afterwards as a thank you," Sandra offered. "You don't strike me as the party type, but I bet you could still use a night off. We'll help all the people we can, then blow off some steam. All right?"

"Hm. That seems appropriately resolute… and yet vague," Arcade mumbled. "But… I have a sneaking suspicion you might end up wasted in a Vegas gutter if I leave you unsupervised."

"Damn right. C'mon," Sandra laughed, heading for the exit. "Let's go."

At that, Sandra headed out of the Old Mormon Fort with her new friend. The two of them spent the entire day walking around Freeside and talking to various townspeople—starting with the King at the House of Impersonation. Before they knew it, Sandra and Arcade found themselves steeped in a long day of running errands and passing messages, clearing up misunderstandings between the Kings gang and the NCR newcomers. Then, after speaking with Julie, Arcade led Sandra to all the places who might be willing to set up a supply deal with the Followers—finally landing a deal with the Garrets at the Atomic Wrangler. Sandra made a quick search of the building when she stopped at the Wranger, finding no Niner or ED-E anywhere.

When they returned to the Old Mormon Fort at the end of their tireless day, the two of them had accomplished far more than either of them thought possible in such a short amount of time—and to Sandra's relief, Niner and ED-E were inside one of the tents, Niner snoozing loudly on an old mattress, ED-E hovering just above his stomach.

"Oh… here we go," Sandra smirked, glancing at Arcade before leaning into the tent. "Shh. Watch this."

She inhaled a deep breath and screamed with all her might.

"NINER!"

Niner jerked upright, knocking ED-E aside and making him beep irritably. Sandra exploded with laughter, Arcade smirking and shaking his head.

"Oh… yeah… real fuckin' funny," Niner snarked. "Where the hell'ave you been?"

"Saving the freakin' world," Sandra retorted with a laugh. "This is Arcade. Arcade, this is Niner. Make nice and get ready, because we're about to hit New Vegas."

Niner stood and shook the doctor's hand.

"I've heard a lot about you today," Arcade said. "And I've been wondering all day… with all the jet fuel in your veins… how are you even alive?"

"I dunno, mate—I stopped questioning that years ago," Niner cackled, grinning and clasping his hands together. "Well—we hittin' Vegas, or what?"

"Hell yeah, we are. I made a lotta money today helping people out—I have earned this," Sandra said excitedly. "I can't wait."

"Right… about that," Arcade uttered. "You really don't need to bring me along for this part. I don't care for the Strip, anyway."

"Nooo—you have to come with us!" Sandra griped. "Come ooon—don't make me go alone with him! He disappeared with a hooker last night!"

"Oy, mate—when was the last time you did anything other than work here?" Niner asked Arcade. "C'mon. It won't kill ya' to live a little."

Arcade glimpsed between their childishly hopeful visages, adjusting his glasses and releasing a defeated sigh. "Oh, all right, fine…"

Sandra and Niner high-fived—they, Arcade, and ED-E all headed out of the Old Mormon Fort together, venturing across town and approaching the great gates of New Vegas as the sun began to set on a darkening blue sky, the Vegas lights dancing and shining more brilliantly than ever.

After passing the credit check, they all marched inside—Sandra's eyes lit up with wonder at the fantastic sight before her, a long, unobstructed Strip stretching far across Vegas, neon lights moving rhythmically up and down Gomorrah, the Lucky 38, the Tops, and the buildings farther down, people yelling and partying in the street, hookers dancing and soliciting to their businesses, a few drunks occasionally stopping to stumble or vomit, music echoing from seemingly every direction.

"It's not a bad place if you love terrible things and people," Arcade remarked. "I'll never understand the allure of giving away your money to the rich…"

Sandra barely heard him; she and Niner were marveling at everything in sight, overjoyed to have finally reached their destination.

"New Vegas, baby—told ya' we'd make it," Niner smirked, facing her and yanking her into a quick one-armed hug. "I'm gonna go get us a room at the vault motel. Meetcha there later, Six. Don't punch any tourists without me!"

"No promises!" Sandra laughed and waved him off, watching as Niner marched down the Strip, leaving her alone with Arcade and ED-E.

"You, uh… getting a motel room here?" Arcade asked, glancing around the spacious and prosperous environment, a stark contrast to Freeside. "We're spending the night in Vegas…?"

"Well, I kinda wanna make sure we have a place to sleep… unlike last night," Sandra snarked in response. "You know how that turned out."

Arcade made a sideways nod. "Well, okay, fair point…"

"Well howdy, partner!"

A robotic voice boomed from behind, making her jump—Sandra whipped around, seeing that one of the securitrons had approached her, a familiar cowboy face plastered on its screen.

"Victor?!" Sandra gasped.

"Consider me your official welcome wagon, partner," Victor replied. "The boss wants to see you soon as he can. Big tower that's shaped like a roulette, right behind me, there…"

Arcade gave Sandra a double-take, Sandra merely staring at Victor half-interestedly.

"I'll head there soon," Sandra told the robot. "I have a couple things to do first."

"Best not to keep the boss man waitin' for too long, partner," Victor disclosed, saluting with his elongated metal arm before rolling away from her.

Sandra watched him go silently, Arcade staring at her as if he'd never seen anything quite like her before.

"How did—why is—okay." Arcade stepped in front of her, giving her a firm look. "Hold the phone. Why are you getting invited to the Lucky 38? Nobody's set foot inside that building in over two-hundred years."

Sandra wasn't sure how to reply, glimpsing between the Lucky 38 and the Tops Casino in the distance, her expression taking on a note of intensity.

"I honestly don't know," she murmured thoughtfully. "But… if it was something worth killing me for… then I'm willing to bet I'm playing a high-stakes game now."

Arcade shot her a look. "I'm gathering that I'm missing some crucial information here…"

"So am I," Sandra determined. "Come on—let's go grab Niner and hit the casinos. I'll tell you everything I know on the way."

ED-E hovered along behind them as Sandra and Arcade marched down the entire Strip—and during the long walk, Sandra told Arcade the entire story, from receiving the package to her near-death experience. When she finished, the two of them were standing at the door of the Vault 21 Motel and Gift Shop, Arcade gaping at her wordlessly for a few seconds.

"You understand what you're involved with now, don't you?" Arcade asked her.

Sandra shrugged and shook her head.

"Sandra—you're directly involved with Mr. House and his security over Vegas now," Arcade stated, sounding almost astonished. "If you play your cards right, you might influence the future of the entire region, here."

"M'kay. That's cool," Sandra said nonchalantly, pulling the door open. "I just have no idea how to do that, so…"

"Hey—if you're looking for someone who's pointlessly obsessed with old socioeconomic practices, look no further," Arcade smirked, following her inside. "I won't pretend to be an expert, but I could definitely lend a hand in that situation."

Sandra slowed to a stop inside the Vault 21 lobby, narrowing her eyes at Arcade and flashing a half-smile. "I thought you didn't even wanna stick around…?"

"I didn't wanna come to Vegas—but if you're actually trying to fix our broken little corner of the world, I am completely on board for that," Arcade stated without hesitation. "If you end up working for Mr. House, we could make a hell of a difference out here. We might even be able to take it farther."

"I didn't think you were the idealist type."

"Well, I really do try to keep that in check—but how can I ignore this opportunity? You could do so much with it."

"I don't even know what I'm getting into," Sandra told him, thinking of her courier job and wondering when or if she'd return to simple deliveries sometime soon. "We've gotta poke around the casinos and look for the checkered-suited guy. I've gotta get some answers first. Let's not get ahead of the game yet."

"Right, right…" Arcade nodded and fell silent.

Sandra pondered on what he said, feeling unconvinced. Truthfully, she wanted to find her answers, but she didn't expect the answers to lead her to any place of power or fortune. She only intended to get her answers and get even before returning to her old job.

Now, however—after seeing the fantastic tower and speaking to Victor, after talking to Arcade and mulling over all the information—she knew for certain that something far bigger than a simple profession of couriering was on her horizon. She couldn't know how or why—only that a new era of life felt to be coming to a slow flourish, and an oncoming storm of change was soon to come.

Sandra blinked, shaking the thoughts away just when she spotted Niner in the vault doorway opposite her—wearing a completely different outfit, a crooked wide-rimmed hat with a feather in it, a sleek white button-up with pinstripes, and a brand new pair of jeans with no wear or tears. He was smirking, holding an armful of clothes and sauntering forward.

"New threads?" Sandra asked.

"Man—I'm gonna hafta tear the women off me," Niner grinned, tossing a couple pieces of clothing toward her. "Don't worry, babe—I got you some, too."

Sandra caught the clothes, holding them out and examining them; one was a curvy red and black dress that hung to the knees, cut low at the chest, and the other was a slender black jacket with various silvery studs.

"And you, doctor man," Niner said, tossing a suit and a hat toward Arcade. "Gonna hafta blend in if we're gonna hunt for this checkered fucker, ain't we?"

"Right," Arcade mumbled.

"Oy—you clued him in, yeah?" Niner asked Sandra. "Told him about checkered fucker?"

"Yeah," Sandra affirmed. "We're all on the same goal now."

"Good-good. You two go get changed, then. We own this town tonight," Niner declared.

They all headed downstairs to the vault motel, stepping into their room and changing their clothes. Arcade repeatedly fidgeted with the fedora on his head, wearing a smooth black suit, and Sandra stepped out of the bathroom with the small red dress hugging her in all the right places, the black leather jacket covering her arms, tortoise shell sunglasses tenting stylishly over her eyes, a small spiked choker around her neck. The dress even matched her nuka-colored pip-boy. The look seemed to work well.

They left ED-E to guard their motel room, and the three of them headed upstairs again, marching outside and strolling down the Strip as if they owned the place, Sandra feeling strangely different—like someone important, almost sexy, something she wasn't greatly accustomed to. But between this stellar outfit, walking in between her suave-looking male companions, and marching under the brilliant lights of Las Vegas, she couldn't help but smile.

Sandra proudly marched up to the double-doors of the Tops Casino, leading her friends inside. And as she did—just a short distance away, another suited man stood leaning on the nearest street light, raising his head from his newspaper and narrowing his eyes intently at the doors.

Vulpes tossed the newspaper aside, inhaling deeply and preparing to follow.