NCR

I lit a smoke and surveyed the flat lands that spread out in front of me. It would be a few more days on the road before I reached NCR. I had no business in the town proper, but I had to talk to the merchants that ran the Bazaar. My hand slid to the holster of the revolver and I quickly practiced the pull-out drill. The metallic beast felt nimble in my hands, as it spun around my finger. It hadn't been fired in a while, and let's just say I hadn't pulled the trigger on Sheriff Dun. He was alive back at the Oasis, while I was on the road to nowhere. Frankly, I'd been slowly rotting in that place, no matter how damn nice it was.

I slid the revolver back into the holster and reshouldered my hunting rifle. The wide brim of my hat gave just enough protection from the sun. It was time to kick up the dust, once again.

New fucking Californian Republic. What a crock of shit. If they though they could revive the old ways of the free American spirit they were kidding themselves. As far as I was concerned, they built it as an authoritarian regime, exploiting the weak new world, but no one asked an old bastard like myself.

Mikey was still running the stall, stinking up most of the area with barbequed human flesh. I reckoned he was in with the slave-traders. He was ok guy though, everyone has to make a living, and being the first stall in the Bazaar he could see the comings and goings. I waited for his oblivious customer to be served and then approached him.

'How can I help you stranger, you look hungry enough to me?' There was no sign of recognition on his face.

'Keep the meat, Mikey. I want some info.'

'I don't know if I can help with information, but my barbeque is of the highest quality' he said, gesturing to the charred meats laid out in front of him.

'You know, Mikey, I am not in a persuasive mood today. I tell you what, you answer my questions and I'll pretend that I don't know anything about your source of meat. I'm sure the Rangers would be interested in that information, how much have you sold to them in the last ten years?'

His eyes went dark, real dark, at that.

'I don't know what you're talking about.' His hand began sliding under the stall. It was a bad decision on his part.

My revolver flew out of the holster, pointing blue steel in the merchant's face.

'I said I don't have time for your shit! I don't care how dodgy your business is. I just need some information, so calm the fuck down and let's talk.'

Mikey relaxed a little and brought his hand back up onto the counter.

'If you say so, stranger. How can I help?'

'Looking for some raiders that could have been here offloading some guns and armour? Presumably go by the name of RATS.'

'Don't know RATS or not, but I saw a group of rather disturbing characters rolling into town few weeks ago. They came at night and went straight to Buster's.'

'The old fuck still trading in business?'

'Why not?' Mikey seemed surprised.

'Why not indeed,' I replied and threw a few bottlecaps on the counter,

'For your trouble.'

He didn't reply, just collected the caps. I wondered what his deal was. Did he have a shack somewhere where he kept a tribal slave woman shackled? Or did he live in one of the nice houses downtown?

I could have gone straight to Mira's, but figured it was good to have some intel on what I was dealing with. The RATS could be still in town.

Oh, the Bazaar. The hub of villainy in the whole NCR, yet it still it managed to function under the rules of the Republic. The stink and the noise of hundreds of people trading and selling, dealing and stealing, lying and dying. Buster confirmed what Mikey said but had no more information on the gang. My Gouse rifle sat nicely at the back of the shop, waiting for the right buyer. I had to bite my tongue and wait for when I had enough caps to buy it back. Buster didn't recognise my voice either and I kept my bandana up, just another stranger in town. It was time to head to head to Mira's.

Rawhide Saloon was as I remembered, rough and it stunk of old booze and sweat. But one only ever noticed the stink if he had a bath, which you couldn't say for most of the patrons. Here I pulled the bandana down, as I made my way to the bar. There she stood, in all her glory, still a scowl on her face. Lenny wasn't nowhere to be seen.

'Mira.'

'What the heck you want, assho…'she was pouring drinks, but when she turned around her scowl changed into a grin.

'Honey! It's been a while. The man who made me a widower, which I didn't mind one bit.'

'I can say it was a pleasure.' I smiled back. We had spent a night or two together, and she has been an agile girl. She still looked fine for an old punk.

'Didn't expect to see you back in town. What with all that has happened.'

She poured me a whiskey and called a young girl of ten or twelve to mind the bar. Then she motioned for me to follow her to a quiet table tucked in the corner of the bar.

'I heard your quest has been a success. Haven't see any Vertibirds flying overhead in a long time.'

'Partially.' I didn't want to talk about what happened and changed the subject.

'I need info on a gang, they call themselves RATS.'

'Metzger's RATS?' Mira looked over her shoulder.

'What the fuck? Did you say Metzger.' I almost spilled my whiskey as my fingers slipped from the glass.

'Yeah, why? You in the know?' she asked quietly.

'Long time ago. The cunt is still alive then, I should have killed him when I had the chance to stop that scum from spreading.'

'I supposed that's where you got your tat?' Mira speculated.

I lifted the edge of the hat, showing her that the slaver's tattoo had been erased from my forehead, leaving a faint scar. Only those who knew would be able to recognise it.

'Neat. It never suited you anyway. So, what's the story between you and Metzger?' Mira asked, pouring another glass for both of us.

I took a sip and begun.

'I was desperate, thinking that Vic guy knew where Vault was. Metzger had Vic locked up and wouldn't release him, wanted lots of caps for him. I had shit all to my name and ended up working for him. It meant getting inked.' I slammed the glass back and felt the burn at the back of my throat. It felt raw and yet liberating to be talking about it now.

'Had to do some fucked up shit for that asshole. He is a real fucking maniac. Nasty things to the tribals like myself. Breaking families, sorting, and branding which ones go for sale and which ones are kept for breeding.'

The whiskey tasted bitter in my mouth.

'Oh shit, Jim. That's some nasty stuff.' Mira's eyes were full of understanding.

'I had to make a choice for the greater good and I didn't like it much.'

Mira was silent for a moment. I didn't blame her. I would have struggled to say anything myself. Mira was biting her nails and then she took a deep breath.

'Since we are bringing up the past. Jack was a real asshole and I wanted him dead. We worked together to build this bar, but he couldn't handle the booze that was available to him. He was getting jealous of every guy and gal passing through those doors. The drinking and jealousy drove him mad. Then he begun the beatings. After few years I couldn't handle it anymore. Then you came in, fresh from the waste, and it was easy to make that choice. But now I struggle Jim, I really do.'

Mira began crying quietly.

I was the one now, short of the right words. This world was plenty shades of fucked up and we didn't know better.

'Sounds like he truly deserved it. What's done is done.' It was highly hypocritical of me, but hey we are all hypocrites at one point or another.

We had another drink and I started to feel it, but Mira looked composed again.

'About the Metzger's RATS. They came here few days ago. Sat at that table, talked between themselves, boasting about the latest haul.'

'Just like that? What about the Rangers?'

'Rangers, that's the interesting thing. I don't think they will be here for much longer. They must have had some beef with the new President, after Tandy passed away, and are being push out of NCR. The word is that the NCR Army is enough to keep the peace.'

'Interesting. Things have been developing since I was out this way.' Rangers being kicked out could be the result of a few things. Either it was an internal political struggle, or the Slavers Guild had enough resources to push them out of the NCR, influencing the way the current President saw the Rangers.

'Didn't think the Rangers would give up their position here in NCR so easily.'

Mira was looking at me now, slightly concerned.

'I don't dwell on those things much, Jim. But now you got me thinking. Few years after you left, there was a large caravan parked for a few days here on the outskirts of town. New faces, never seen them before, run their ship tight just like army. Night guards and everything, never set a foot into the bar. Then one day, the whole caravan disappeared, just like that. Rumour was that they got inside the town. Maybe that has something to do with the Rangers?'

'Could have been a caravan from Vault City or Reno?'

'Could have been, but that means there are new factions out there.' Mira took a moment,' thing is, never seen them since.'

'Strange.' This got me thinking some dark thoughts.

'Enough rumours for one night, I reckon.' I looked around the room and I could tell that it was late.

'Where's Merk?'

'Out of business. Got hooked on Jet, ended up somewhere in Reno. Hopefully dead.'

'Can I stay the night? It's been a long few day on the road.'

'What's in it for me, Jim?' asked Mira.

'Not much, let's say I owe you one.' I picked up the bottle and dragged it from the table. I needed to keep the demons at bay.

'Once you are done with the RATS, come and see me again, Jim. Might have a job for you.'

I gave her a nod of agreement and headed for the back room. I knew sleep would be hard to come by.