Chapter 48 - Strip Searches & Securitron Soldiers
"Here's our fucking passports." Pyrrha growled, handing over the two documents she'd gotten from the forger to the hunk of junk. "Now can we get in already?"
As the robot carefully studied the two passports, she found herself thinking that they'd better pass the robot's verification.
That they'd have better been fucking worth it.
Two days.
Two whole fucking days.
Two whole fucking days of busting her ass for the King.
Two whole fucking days of running up and down the shithole that was Freeside, putting out metaphorical (and occasionally literal) fires.
From busting fake escorts running a scam and protection racket to helping out the Followers of the Apocalypse in the Old Mormon Fort, to investigating secret NCR soup kitchens, to stopping sodding shootouts between the fucking Kings and the goddamned NCR...
She and Jaune had done it all.
By the end of it, even Jaune hadn't been able to keep up his usual "it's not that bad" bullshit, and even she'd stopped bothering with curiosity when a warm bright light had suddenly emerged in the Old Mormon Fort for the third fucking time and people were healed all of a sudden.
Sure, she knew Jaune had something to do with it, it always having happened coincidentally as she'd left Jaune alone in the room, but she was just too exasperated to give a damn.
And the forger the King had finally introduced them to had still tried to demand either 1000 caps or one of their 5.56 mm pistols.
Fortunately. she'd managed to get the pair for 750 caps.
Still pretty exorbitant, to be sure, but at least it wasn't "an arm and a leg" levels of unreasonable that the Securitron Greeter had initially demanded.
But still, as she'd gotten the passports, all she'd been able to think was. this had better have been fucking worth it.
"Thank you, sir and madam." The robot finally said, handing the documents back to them. "You may proceed."
"Fucking finally..." Pyrrha murmured, as she made sure to take the passports back.
"Come on, Six." Jaune grabbed her hand and pulled her forward, eager to see what the fuss about the Strip was (also, he wanted out of Freeside as soon as possible). "Let's go!"
Pyrrha just shook her head indulgently.
Of course his energy had recovered already.
Then she winced, remembering that she was supposed to be distancing herself from him.
They'd gotten too close in the past two weeks...
"So, where do you think Benny is?" Jaune asked, unaware of her unease.
"Apparently, he's a big Chairman at the Tops-"
"A "Chairman"?"
"They're one of the Three Families, along with the White Gloves and the Omertas." Pyrrha explained. "Each of them run a casino; Chairmans' got the Tops, the White Gloves run the Ultra-Luxe, and the Omertas "manage" Gomorrah. Word of advice, if you want to play, stick to the Tops."
"You're recommending the casino of the guy that shot you?" Jaune pointed out, equally amused and bemused.
"I'm not recommending any casino, Arc." Pyrrha rolled her eyes. "The House always wins, after all. But if you're here, and you want to play... well, seeing as how we couldn't even clear the fucking credit check, we probably can't even afford to breathe the fucking air at the Ultra-Luxe. And people don't go to Gomorrah to gamble caps, they go there to gamble on whether they'll be getting a fucking STD."
"Oh." Jaune couldn't help but blush at how direct she was, even as he mentally filed this "Gomorrah" next to Riften as "places to stay away from". "Well, I don't really gamble anyway..."
"Not even a bit tempted, Arc?" Pyrrha couldn't help but raise an eyebrow.
"I've got horrible luck." Jaune shrugged.
"Live a little, Arc." Pyrrha rolled her eyes. "It's fucking Vegas."
Jaune couldn't help but choke. Was he really hearing this from her? His partner had been serious and sheltered to a fault, with the rest of Team JNPR (especially him) having had to teach her how to relax!
And the Courier was even worse!
He couldn't imagine the Courier ever gambling... oh, wait, no.
He could, if only because he'd accidentally imagined her with Polarity, and just using it to cheat at the roulette table.
Fortunately, before he could comment, a Securitron suddenly rolled up to the pair, distracting them.
For a moment, Jaune wondered if they'd been caught, if the robots had figured out that their passports were fake. Then he saw the face on the screen, and blinked.
"Howdy, pardners!" The cowboy robot said. "You've come a far piece, haven't ya? Welcome to New Vegas!"
"Victor?" Jaune blinked. They hadn't seen the robot since Goodsprings! "What are you doing here?"
"Consider me your personal welcome wagon!" Victor announced enthusiastically.
"You know this robot?" Pyrrha asked.
"Oh, right..." Jaune felt like slapping himself in the head. He'd completely forgotten to introduce the two, seeing as how the Powder Gangers had attacked almost immediately after the Courier had woken up. "Six, this is the robot that helped me get you to Doc Mitchell's. Victor, this is Courier Six... the woman you helped me save."
"Uh, thanks, Victor..." Pyrrha said hesitantly, wondering if she should hold out a hand.
"Aw, shucks, don't mention it, little missy." Victor replied, as bashfully as a robot could. "It was my pleasure to help! Now hear this, the head honcho of New Vegas, Mr. House, is itching to make your acquaintance."
"Wait, you work for Mr. House?" Jaune couldn't help but ask.
"He's a Securitron, Arc." Pyrrha answered drily.
"Just like the little missy said." Victor confirmed her statement. "It was Mr. House who made Securitrons like me. Seems the least I could do is pass on his message. He'll be waitin', up in the Lucky 38."
"Gee, I wonder where that could be." Pyrrha muttered sarcastically.
Fortunately, like the Nightkin, Securitrons apparently lacked a sense of sarcasm. Victor pointed to a nearby casino in response, one with a massive sign above the entrance saying "Lucky 38", and just for good measure told her: "See that big ol' tower shaped like a roulette spinner?"
"Uh... kind of hard to miss..." Jaune answered, unsure of whether the robot was being serious.
"That's where you'll find Mr. House." Victor continued. "Don't you dawdle now, little doggies."
"Tell him I'll meet him soon, Victor." Pyrrha said, clutching the engraved lighter the Great Khan Jessup had passed her tightly. Remembering the pain of being shot in the fucking head, she growled: "First, I've got to get his package back."
-BENNY'S SUITE, THE TOPS, ONE EXPLANATION (AND THREE SPEECH CHECKS) LATER-
Benny hummed to himself as he nursed his drink, wondering what it was that had Swank suddenly suggesting they have an urgent and private meeting in his suite.
Didn't he know he had better things to do? Like figure out how to get into the damn 38 and take Mr. House out of the picture before he realized what he'd done?
What was he saying, of course Swank didn't know what he was up to! He'd selected the kid for his loyalty and his ability to manage the day-to-day running of the Tops, so that he could be free to do more important stuff.
Finally, he heard footsteps approaching his room, and turned to the door expectantly.
The door to his private room opened, revealing not his right-hand man, but two armed strangers, gun barrels pointed straight at his head.
"What in the goddamn..." Benny couldn't help but exclaim, before he blinked, as he noticed the woman.
He recognized her, and not in a good way.
And judging by the glare she was giving him, she recognized him too.
If looks could kill, he was willing to bet there wouldn't even have been ashes left of him.
To be fair, though, he'd killed her first.
Or so he'd thought.
"You?!" Benny shouted, raising his hands up and taking a cautious step back as the Courier stalked forward. "How could you be..."
The meeting.
"Oh, Swank, you finky bastard..." Benny growled, before gulping, as his back hit the wall, and the Courier pressed the cold metal barrel to his forehead. Time to pull off the ol' Benny charm, before she pulled his head off.
"You got a crazy drop on me, baby, but you don't want to kill me." Benny tried to convince her, talking as fast as he could, as he saw the Courier put her finger against the trigger.
"Yes I do." The Courier retorted.
"We should be working together." Benny continued as if he hadn't heard her, and if he was talking slightly faster, well that was just a coincidence!
"The Chip." The Courier pressed. "Now."
"Can't do that, baby." Benny tried reasoning with her. "The Chip, it's... special! But savor this, baby..."
Good, she hadn't pulled the trigger yet.
Benny desperately continued his fast-talking: "I can comp you the Presidential - best suite in the house! After what you've been through, you deserve a taste of the VIP Lifestyle! What do you say?"
A fist smashed into his jaw, staggering him, followed by a knee to his crotch.
As Benny doubled over in pain, the Courier gripped a flailing arm with her free hand, before stepping forward, behind him, and twisting it.
"You mean, what I've been through because of you, you fucking bastard?" Pyrrha snarled, as she placed a boot on his shoulder.
It would have been easy, so fucking easy to just press down and pull...
Just the slightest twitch of her muscles...
And he'd taste a fraction of what he'd put her through.
Two fucking weeks tracking his sorry ass down through the goddamned Mojave Wasteland!
Two weeks of unpaid odd jobs as she'd had to accumulate favors and search for leads and clues!
REPCONN! Boulder City! Fucking Freeside!
... two weeks of being in Arc's company...
Saving a town from Powder Gangers.
Savoring Arc's cooking.
Stopping Nightkin and religious ghouls from killing each other, and helping the ghouls (hopefully) find their paradise.
Seeing Arc defeat a Nightkin in melee combat, and talk down the monsters of the Wastes.
Saving some jackass Great Khans who'd really deserved it from getting shot up by the NCR.
Showing him how to use and clean his gun, learning about cooking from him, and enjoying his boundless innocence and optimism as they'd bounced from location to location, making a goddamn difference, with her not having to worry about her fucking reputation, her infamy, for once...
Pyrrha felt Jaune's gaze on her, and sighed.
She was getting fucking soft.
But, if this was going to be the last time they saw each other...
At least let me delude him one last time.
"Search him, Arc." Pyrrha instructed, holding him in place. "Disarm him, get the chip, and let's get the fuck out of here. We'll let House take care of his rat."
"Wait, no!" Benny shouted beneath her. "You can't leave me to Hou-"
Pyrrha smashed the butt of her gun into the back of his head, slightly harder than was probably necessary.
She didn't care.
He talked too much.
Jaune winced but complied, and as he emptied Benny's pockets, she took off his horrible-looking shirt, and used it to bind his arms and legs together.
He really wasn't anything to look at.
She could see more muscle underneath Jaune's relatively-loose top (not that she'd been looking, of course).
Finally, Jaune held up a platinum chip, and gingerly passed it over to Pyrrha, who took a moment to study it.
Just like she remembered it.
"So... that's the cause of all this fuss?" Jaune eyed the chip as the pair boarded the elevator down to the ground floor. "Doesn't look like much..."
"It doesn't, does it?" Pyrrha mused, unable to help the smile on her face, knowing that Jaune was having the same train of thought as she was.
So much trouble, over something so small and insignificant.
She'd already accepted Mr. House was eccentric, having known that she was only one of six couriers who were running a delivery for him simultaneously.
A pair of fuzzy dice, oversized platinum chips, a deck of shiny holographic poker cards...
But what had the schmuck meant when he'd said the Chip was special?
It didn't matter.
She just had to hand it over, and her job was done.
"Well, I hope it was all worth it." Jaune sighed, as the elevator dinged. "Anyway, what's next for you?"
"Get to the Lucky 38, finish my job, and deliver the payment back to the Mojave Express office in Primm, I guess." Pyrrha shrugged, as the pair stepped out of the elevator.
"Oum, Six, don't you think of anything besides work?" Jaune rolled his eyes, before throwing her words back at her: "Live a little, Courier."
Pyrrha couldn't help but shoot him a glare, though it softened as a chuckled escaped her lips. Jaune grinned, knowing he'd gotten through to her, and she pressed her shoulder against his, as the two walked side-by-side.
"Any idea why House wanted to meet you personally?" Jaune wondered. "I thought your deliver order said an "agent of the recipient" would meet you at the gate..."
"Maybe he wants to chew me out for delivering the chip so late, Arc." Pyrrha suggested half-heartedly, as she reached the counter, and she paused to tell Swank that Benny was tied up, and he should probably get some brownie points with Mr. House by turning him in. As Swank raced away with his bodyguards, she noted: "Doubt it, though. Victor was pretty polite about it."
"Well, whatever it is, it'll probably be interesting..." Jaune smirked, as they left the casino, and stood facing the Lucky 38 across the street. "Think it'll be more interesting than REPCONN, Six?"
"Probably not, Arc." Pyrrha conceded, before pausing, unwilling to let the conversation end there.
It was time.
But she didn't want it to be.
Could she really be blamed for wanting to drag it out just a bit longer?
She still had so many questions...
"Anyway, what about you, Arc?" Pyrrha blurted out, before she could stop herself.
"Hmmm? What about me, Six?" Jaune cocked his head, puzzled.
Pyrrha had to stop herself from giggling at his resemblance to a puppy.
Then her face turned somber.
There was no going back now.
"What... what will you do... after I finish my delivery?" Pyrrha forced out, fighting to keep her voice from trembling.
Jaune blinked, not having expected that question.
There was a pause, as he slowly considered it.
Finally he shrugged, and said: "I was thinking of heading back to Goodsprings for a bit. And then, after that... I guess I'll head to the Capital Wasteland."
"What on earth do you want with the Capital Wasteland?" Pyrrha was dumbfounded.
"Eh... that woman I was talking to, back at the 188, she gave me a clue on where I was, originally." Jaune explained. It wasn't technically a lie. It was where he was originally from in this reality, perhaps. "So I was thinking of heading back... getting some closure, you know?"
Pyrrha blinked. Jaune was from the Capital Wasteland? How the hell had he maintained his attitude, if he'd come from D-fucking-C?!
Then she shook her head, musing that it was just Arc, and instead asked: "Do you think you'll be alright on the journey there?"
Jaune knew he couldn't tell her the whole truth, that he'd been planning on taking the alien mothership there, and could probably get there within a day.
Instead he grinned, and answered: "Well, I made it through two weeks with you, Six..."
"Fuck off..." Pyrrha grinned back, lightly punching his shoulder.
God, she was going to miss this, wasn't she...
As she looked at the cowboy robot Victor, just wheeling around the entrance, a thought struck her.
"You know..." Pyrrha suggested. "I think House's invitation extends to you, too..."
"Pass." Jaune immediately shot it down. "I'm, uh... I really don't like dealing with important people. Too much formality, you know?"
"Heh, god do I ever." Pyrrha groaned, mildly disappointed (and unsure of why). "..."
"..."
"... well..." Pyrrha began again. "I guess this is goodbye..."
"Hey, it doesn't have to be goodbye just yet." Jaune saw the sadness in her eyes. "Let's get a drink, after you've talked to House. What do you say?"
Pyrrha smiled softly back at Jaune.
Live a little, eh?
Celebrating a job well done and throwing a farewell party probably counted.
"I'll catch you at Vault 21." Pyrrha said, poking his cheek. "Though... aren't you a bit too young to drink?"
"Since when have you cared?" Jaune retorted, raising an eyebrow.
The pair shared a laugh, before Jaune began walking away, promising to save her a seat.
Pyrrha stared at his retreating form with mixed feelings.
Happiness, that Jaune had managed to find a way back home.
Envy, that she never would.
Sadness, that they'd be parting.
Anger, at herself for being sad at the inevitable.
Confusion, at the other, more complicated thoughts, that she couldn't understand.
She shook her head, and looked back at the tower.
She still had a job to do.
Taking a deep breath, she steeled herself, and began walking towards the Lucky 38.
The steel barriers smoothly slid down as she approached, revealing the entrance.
She walked in, to find an empty casino.
Everything looked pristine, untouched.
Pre-War.
Sterile.
She ignored it all, as she headed towards the elevator that a Securitron gestured towards.
She stepped inside, and the doors closed.
As the elevator began bringing her up, she found herself already wishing that she still had company, before mentally berating herself.
She was a Courier, for fuck's sake!
Travelling the Wastes alone was part of the whole job!
What, had two weeks of being adopted by Arc really spoiled her that badly?!
As the elevator came to a halt, and the doors slid open, she clenched her fists and stepped out.
A Securitron with a female's voice and picture greeted her, and directed her to the room ahead.
She complied, wanting to just get the job over and done with.
"You've been a busy courier, haven't you?" A voice sounded, as she walked in. Quickly turning, she found herself face-to-screen with a massive console, with a picture of a man on a giant screen. "You take your obligation to deliver an package very seriously - an ethic for which I am grateful."
"Mr. House, I assume?" Pyrrha raised an eyebrow. This... wasn't what she'd been expecting.
"I will admit, when you ignored my invitation, I predicted... negative outcomes." Mr. House answered, all but confirming her suspicions. "But - you have a way of exceeding expectations, don't you, Miss Nikos?"
Pyrrha's eyes widened. "You... know who I am?"
"Yes, and I've heard about the fate of the Divide." House told her sympathetically. "Truly, you have my condolences, Miss Nikos."
Pyrrha's jaw tightened involuntarily, at the reminder of the settlement she'd helped, been hailed a hero of, and ultimately failed to be there for.
"It doesn't matter anymore." Pyrrha finally forced out, shaking her head. "I'm just a courier now."
"Come now, don't be so obtuse." House chuckled in amusement. "You must see that you, Mr. Arc, and I are of a different stripe, don't you? We don't have to dream that we're important. We are."
Pyrrha's heart skipped a beat. God, he sounded just like her tribe had, always pushing her to be the next fucking Chosen One.
"I was." Pyrrha corrected him. "It didn't work out. I'm just a simple woman doing a job now. Now, do you want your chip or not?"
"Very well. Let's have the Chip, then."
A compartment in the console opened up, with a groove just the right size to fit the Chip in.
She slotted it in, and her eyes widened as the machines in the room all began whirring to life.
Adrenaline spiked in her system, as she noticed the robots around her suddenly twitched, and the displays on their screen changed.
Metal flaps where their "shoulders" would have been lowered, revealing rocket pods.
Pyrrha cursed, as she quickly assessed the situation.
What the fuck had the Chip been?
Was she about to get cheated out of her payment?
"Relax, Miss Nikos. My Securitrons won't hurt you." House said calmly, seemingly attempting to reassure her. "You've given them no reason to so far."
Pyrrha took a deep breath, as subtly as she could, to calm herself. House was rich enough that he wouldn't have any reason to care about a few hundred caps.
Moreover, if he wanted her dead, she'd have already been dead.
"You have the Chip now, Mr. House." Pyrrha said warily, unable to help but eye the Securitrons in the room. "Now, my payment."
"Of course." House said, and a Securitron wheeled up to her, with a sack. "Four times the delivery bonus stipulated in your contract. I trust that you'll find this more than sufficient compensation."
Pyrrha's eyes boggled. A thousand fucking caps?
She was definitely going to buy Arc the next few dozen rounds.
As she reached for it, however, House interrupted: "That's not all, though. There's more."
"What is it?" Pyrrha's confusion only grew. A thousand caps was more than enough for a few years. What else was he offering her?
"I've been monitoring your progress from Goodsprings to the Strip, and I'd like to say your skills and resourcefulness have more than exceeded my expectations." House praised her. "And, with Benny's betrayal, I find myself in need of a new right-hand man. Mr. Arc, while also skilled, is too idealistic, too soft to do what needs to be done."
"You're making me a job offer." Pyrrha breathed in realization.
The image of Robert House on the screen grinned. "Indeed, but I'm not just offering you an incentive as crude as money - though there'll be plenty of that.
"What I'm offering you is a ground-floor opportunity in the most important enterprise on Earth.
"What I'm offering is a future - for you, and for what remains of the human race.
"What I'm offering is a second chance - a chance to fix the mistakes of the Divide, and help New Vegas seize its rightful place in the Wasteland."
Author's Note: ... nope, I got nothing. This chapter started late because I spent a day off from work sleeping and gaming. Next chapter will hopefully be longer, though don't expect anything more for the week.
And when I said this was going to be a slow burn... well, this time in the Capital Wasteland, Jaune was already at war with the Enclave...
