Rex sat behind his desk completely absorbed in the manuals and diagrams from the Normandy's databanks. He felt like a kid in a candy shop as he scrolled through the treasure trove of information. Some of the advances gleaned from the Normandy would revolutionize almost every scrap of machinery in the Mojave. His mind wandered to all the interesting things he could do with a super computer small enough to fit in his hand.
Of course, It would take years to integrate the new technology into the wasteland's daily life. Though Rex already had a few ideas where the new tech could be immediately integrated. He smiled genuinely at the thought of a fleet of robots powered by mini super computers; especially utilizing this Swarm robotics concept he read about. Rex leaned back in his chair inhaling the last bit of his cigarette and tossed it into an ash tray before grabbing for his pack
He withdrew a cigarette and flipped open his metal thumb to light it, but just before the flame licked the cigarette he pulled back. His gaze fell on the completed stack of paper workover at the stack of completed paper work piled like a tower in the out bin. Rex had been working all morning after all, and he felt a treat was warranted.
"Fuck it, I've been good lately" He said standing up and walking over to the wall to the left of his desk.
Rex placed his hand on an almost invisible square in the white wall and a segment of the gray concrete rose into the ceiling. He stared into the dusty space for a few moments doing a mental inventory of the various weapons, terminals, and crates within the room. Stepping into the room, Rex hummed softly as he moved towards a stack of small red boxes.
Picking one of the boxes up, Rex exited the room and placed the box on his desk as the wall swooshed shut behind him. Sitting back down behind his desk Rex opened the box and withdrew a stack of yellowed paper and a round tin container. With reverence, Rex cracked open the tin and inhaled as the smells of citrus and tobacco filled the air. He took a small bundle of the orangish tobacco and spread it in line on one of the sheets of paper.
He rolled the paper into a cigarette licking one edge to make the paper stick together. Rex lit the cigarette and took a deep drag letting the citrusy smoke caress his tongue and flow down his wind pipe. Sitting back in his chair Rex lazily looked out across New Vegas, and propped his feet up on the window sill.
Silently, he imagined the diagrams and assembled and disassembled them in his mind's eye committing their design and function to memory. For as long as he could remember he could absorb knowledge quickly and call it back up in an instant no matter how mundane. He could still vaguely remember combos and codes of safes and old computers that lay forgotten and pilfered in the ruins of the old world surrounding the ruins of a small town called Dust.
"Haven't thought about Dust in a long-time kiddo"
Rex turned to see the phantom form of his mother sitting in one the chairs in front of his desk. She was a full-figured woman with only the barest hints of grey in her long red ponytail. That was only natural she was barely in her thirties when she'd died. His mother wore her usual stained jumpsuit with a faded NCR bear on the breast and a thousand oil stains dotting its once blue fabric.
"Hey mom." Rex said rubbing his temples "Is Dad coming out of my head too?"
"No just little old me" His mother said giving him the smile that once told him everything was going to be okay.
"I know delusions generally don't have a purpose for manifesting, but why are you here?" Rex asked the apparition of his mother.
"Maybe you just like to be reminded of all the good things that happened in dust." His mother said fishing a small leather pouch from his duster pocket which he'd hung over the chair beside her.
His mother placed the pouch on the desk and sat back down. The pouch was made of old tanned leather, faded and cracked with a large red R stitched to the back of it. Rex unclasped the flap and withdrew a folded piece of cloth, and unfolded it to stare at the stainless-steel instruments within.
Each had its own slot and as he smoked he took each instrument out and thumbed them in his hands examining each tool intently. He had used these tools thousands of times over the years whether it was to open a safe or break into a hideout they'd served him well. A memory of the day he'd received the lock pick set filled his mind then and he could taste sweet bread on his tongue.
"That day wasn't all bad honey." His mother said as she quietly stared at him "What happened wasn't your fault."
"I don't need to have this conversation with what is essentially myself." Rex said turning away to stare out the window.
"Just know that I still love you. Your father does to even if he won't admit it" His mother said.
When Rex turned around again his mother was gone and the room was quiet.
"Love you too Mom." He said placing the lock picks back into their slots.
Rex returned the pouch to its pocket in his duster's before slipping the duster on himself. He put the rest of the tobacco in a small pouch along with the rolling paper and placed them in another pocket. Strapping on his gun belt, Rex left the office and took the elevator down to the ground floor. Leaving the Lucky 38, Rex headed north towards the medical district.
Lunch time was rush hour for the various food carts that usually occupied the edges of the Strip, and now they lined the streets feeding farmers, police, office workers, and tourists. Aromas of fried and grilled meat wafted through the air, and Rex's stomach grumbled. Rex checked his pipboy and saw that he didn't have enough time or food, and forced himself to walk past the food carts and deeper into the northern segment of the city.
Leaving the Strip behind, Rex made his way into the Medical district where the New Vegas Medical center stood in all its splendor. It had been expanded in the two years since the second battle of hoover dam and the finest doctors of the wastes practiced there. A small army of followers of the Apocalypse staffed the hospital alongside normal Mojave residents with medical training.
He walked through the main doors and was assaulted with the smell of bandages and sanitizer. Rex didn't know why, but the sterile smell of the hospital always put him on edge. The almost too bright electric lights burned overhead cast sterile white light over the tile floor and the bolted down furniture.
As he walked through the lobby Rex noticed the large crowd waiting in the minor emergency section of the center. More and more cases came through the center thanks to the growing population, and Rex took it as bitter sweet. Now that there was an established healthcare system more people could be treated, but the sheer number of injuries the wasteland could deal out grew every day.
"Another thing I have to worry about" Rex said under his breath as he approached the receptionist's desk.
A bored younger man sat behind the desk. He had a shaved head and tribal tattoo of a Deathclaw paw sprawled over his throat. The man ignored him as he typed into the computer on his desk and when Rex cleared his throat the man said:
"I'll be with you in a moment sir"
Rex placed his metal left hand on the edge of the desk, just in the man's field of vision.
"I have an appointment". He said staring down at the man.
The man looked up and Rex enjoyed the look of shock that struck the man's face.
"Certainly, sorry about that sir I'll tell the techs you're here". The man said practically tripping over himself as he hurried away to fetch the doctor.
Rex leaned against the receptionist's desk smiling softly. Even after two years of practically mythic status amongst the waste landers Rex still hadn't gotten used to how most acted around him. Those who had never actually met him either reacted in awe or fear, but after interacting with him on a regular basis the glamour of his legend slipped away and all that was left was a scrawny gunslinger.
Some even went so far as to doubt his actions at the battle of Hoover Dam. This was often met with a bullet swishing by their ears followed by several others shredding the naysayer's clothing without so much as leaving a scratch. Thankfully most of the naysayers kept silent these days, and Rex had a much smaller wall repair budget to maintain.
Soon a nurse called his name and he followed her back to one of the many examination rooms. The interior was sparse; an auto doc sat in a corner while the other was taken up by a couple of chairs, an examination table, and a small table of instruments and supplies. Rex stripped off his clothing down to his boxers, and stood in front of the Auto-Doc.
This was his personal auto doc designed to calibrate his robotic arm and keep his other artificial organs in top shape. He kept it in the Medical center because it allowed him an excuse to leave the main Strip alone and unbothered by his soldiers or companions. Rex entered the Auto-doc, and felt the tingling sensation as the machine sprayed his body with disinfectant. The doors closed behind him, and Rex was soon swallowed by darkness.
Rex slowed his breathing and braced as the robotic arms of the auto doc began the process of examining his body. The robotic arms fidgeted with his own robotic arm and illuminated the small space as a small torch lit and the multitude of tools began calibrating his arm. Other arms went to work on his body delivering medical treatments designed to keep his bodily functions working at top shape. This was very important considering his lungs, spine, heart, and brain were artificial and required near constant maintenance.
The treatment ended after about thirty minutes and Rex dressed himself enjoying the tingly feeling in his muscles. He left the Medical Center and walked down the Strip rubbing his muscles as he went. He rolled another cigarette as he walked and lit it sending trails of smoke out of his mouth and nostrils. As he pondered what exactly he should do with his day Rex spotted a few of the Normandy's crew walking down the Strip.
He recognized Jack almost immediately along with the odd couple of Jacob and Miranda following behind. His tails had been following them the last few days and one of them walked forward past the group and sat at a bench next to where Rex was standing. The man opened a newspaper and pretended to read as Rex stood beside the bench smoking.
"So, what have our friends been up to?" Rex asked not turning to the tail.
"They've visited their commander at the Ultra Luxe this morning before that they were gathering info about you, the Securitrons, and the surrounding area" The tail said not looking away from his paper "The bald one seems to be hungover".
"Seems she not such a bad ass after all" Rex thought as he inhaled deeply depleting the cigarette before stepping forward and tossing a shiny disc about the size of a fifty cent piece to the tail and began walking forward.
The tail looked at the disc for a moment and grinned. Rex had just handed him what amounted to a hundred-dollar cap in the Mojave; one of the many coins recently put into circulation around the Mojave. This one bore a pair of ten-millimeter hand guns on one side and three solid bars on the other.
Rex walked through the relatively large crowd to the small group and raised his hand in greeting plastering his business smile on his face. The group noticed him and they stopped; the prissy one crossed her arms and was staring at Rex intently as if he was road block.
"Something on my face?" Rex asked still holding his businessman's grin firm.
"No, the cheerleader is just pissed she can't boss anyone around on shore leave" Jack said smirking at the prissy one.
"I can speak for myself Jack if you don't mind" Miranda said turning turning momentarily from Rex to Jack before turning back again "If you don't mind Mr. Craster we have urgent business to attend to".
Rex considered this a moment and said "Well whatever business you have to attend to can wait you all look hungry and as your host it's only right if you let me treat you four to lunch" Rex saod lighting another cigarette as the trio bore a look of confusion; Rex had noticed the slight distortion behind the trio and could just barely make out the silhouette of a woman "You can de-cloak now".
The one called Kasumi's cloak dispersed and she appeared directly behind the trio with a bemused look on her face.
"Well this is embarrassing".
"Don't feel too bad I've been dodging cloaked assassins for years" Rex said looking to the trio once more "So who's up for some lunch I know the owner of the best lunch place in town?"
Miranda smirked a little and said, "Oh thank you for the offer but we really have to get back to the Normandy to see to the preparations, but Jack here would be delighted to have lunch with you".
Jack shot her a glare and said, "Well if the cheerleader objects I might as well get some grub" and she turned to Kasumi who had a devilish smirk on her face "You coming Goto?"
"No sorry but Shepard has me running a few errands this afternoon so I can't" Kasumi said before cloaking again.
"She's using a stealth boy" Rex thought and smiled. that meant she had either stolen or bought one.
It seemed Miss Goto had travelled much farther than any of her crew mates, considering the only place that sold and stored the Mojave's custom stealth boys was the Mojave Arms Depot; Rex's shop in Primm. Run by the old some of the old remnants that decided to stay in the Mojave after the second battle of Hoover Dam.
"Shall we?" Rex said turning to Jack who looked at him with an expression somewhere between curiosity and annoyance.
"Whatever, food better not taste like ass" Jack said gesturing for him to lead on.
Rex led her through the crowds of people out into the small shopping district adjacent to the main Strip. The small square the district occupied was crowded due to the lunch rush at the several restaurants with people milling in and out carrying piping hot food and cool beverages. Rex whistled as he walked noticing Jack glancing around the street then at him and then at the street again.
"Expecting me to turn and yell boo?" Rex asked looking over his shoulder.
"Just staying alert carrot top" Jack replied with a glare.
Rex chuckled and continued walking down the street to a small restaurant nestled between a gun store and a clothing boutique. When they entered the heavy smells of spices and roasting meat assaulted his nose, and he and Jack took a small table in one corner of the restaurant. Despite it being rush hour, the restaurant was almost deserted with only a few patrons eating at the small tables or drinking coffee at the counter.
"So, Jack how are you liking your stay in New Vegas?" Rex asked as they waited for their waitress.
"Not the worst shithole I've ever been stuck in" Jack said with a mocking tone "No one's tried to blow my head off just yet so that's a plus"
"Well we're still growing, so the shithole feel won't be gone for some time" Rex said taking a long drag off his cigarette "but I wouldn't get too comfortable even in peaceful times. The Mojave's still very dangerous"
"I think I'll do just fine, I can handle some scorpions or mutants" Jack said smiling a vicious smile.
"I believe it" Rex said before changing the subject "So Jack tell me about you."
"Why do you want to know about me?" Jack said with a hint of suspicion.
"Well you're a woman from another universe of space faring civilizations of course I'm curious" Rex answered "and I find you interesting to say the least"
"You've only talked to me once" Jack said leaning back "And bought me a drink; thanks again for that by the way"
"Your welcome"
"So, what do you want to know?" Jack asked a look of minor annoyance on her face "just don't expect me to tell you my life story and fall crying into your arms."
"Wouldn't dream of it" Rex said rolling two more cigarettes and passed one to Jack "So where'd you get the Tats?"