Arden. She's something. I would like to clarify that I actually do not "get off" to dead people. I eat them.
We strode confidently through the doors of the Bison Steve, dodging a hail of lead from the guards posted on the collapsed roller coaster. I made sure to commit this fortification to my memory. Powder Gangers, with pistols, couldn't hit us at twelve yards. NCR troopers, the ones who were stronger than myself, with sniper rifles? Very efficient defense. I wondered if Primm would warrant the installation of several mounted machine guns pointing east. If the Legion marched through here, we should be able to picked them off pretty easily. This was why I went with Arden. The annexation of Primm would prove very, very useful in the warding off of the Legion. To do that, though, someone would have to actually get off their ass and do something.
Two men wielding 9mm's greeted us inside Bison Steve. Arden rolled over a counter to our right, cowering. I rolled my eyes, and drew my trusty 12.7. I then realized that my new 9mm would be better, as I could actually hit with it. I pulled it out of my pack, taking gunfire the whole time. God did that smart. I didn't take any direct hits, obviously, as that would likely cause my death. But several shots grazed me, or struck my metal chest guard. Brusing and bleeding, I activated my Pip-boy's automatic aiming feature. I loved that thing. Traded a months worth of rations for it, but I didn't mind. Again, I eat people. The autotarget aimed for the head and pasted brains on the walls of the sleazy hotel. Arden, recovering from her attack of cowardice, signaled for me to wait while she scoped out the hotel. A friend of the two dead guys greeted her. She tore him to pieces so quickly I failed to notice it happening. Literally, tore him to pieces. His head was no longer connected to his bleeding torso. I couldn't believe it, being as the switchblade's cutting edge was not as long as the man's neck. Arden pat him down for weaponry.
"Son of a fuck, another tire iron." she said. "He has some sham NCR cash, you want it?"
"Yes." I said.
"Excellent." She replied. We crept down the hallway, until we came to a large metal service door. "Watch a master at work." She procured a bobby pin. "Eh, do you have a screwdriver?"
"Of course I have a screwdriver." I replied. Have to keep weapons at optimal performance.
"Toss it over, would you kindly?" She asked. I obliged.
"Where did you get that bobby pin from?" I queried.
"Do you really want to know?" She chuckled, smirking the smirk that she smirk when she wants to get on my nerves. Upon seeing my aghast expression, she snorted and said "Was on that dead guy's shirt. Keep your mind out of the gutter."
A few seconds later, we were in a service entrance to the kitchen. There was a convict patrolling that area, but Arden rushed him and hacked a few limbs off. Switchblades really ought not to be that effective. Inside the kitchen proper, there was a man tied up on the floor.
"Beagle!" Arden shouted. I put a finger to my lips.
"You have a terribly abrasive personality. Let me handle this." I whispered. Arden shrugged and let me approach Beagle. "Hello, sir. I am Calabasas, of the NCR. If you come with me, I can promise you safe escort out of the-" I said, before Arden slapped me in the face.
"What he meant to say was, 'we won't end your tiny pointless existance if you help us clear out the hotel'." Arden interjected.
"What I actually mean is that we will help you out if you come with me. Nothing more, nothing less." I said, pushing her out of the way.
"I will go with you as soon as you undo these ropes, thank you kindly." He said.
"Hand me your switchblade." I said to Arden.
"No." She spat.
"Seriously?" I said incredulously.
"Diana is mine. Get your own." She said. I shrugged, and removed the scissors from my repair kit, using them to remove the ropes from Beagle's wrists.
"Well, thanks for that." He said, beginning to head down the service entrance.
"Wait!" Arden cried. "What about that guy with the suit?"
"I have no idea what you're talking about!" He exclaimed.
"Fuck!" Arden cried, kicking the sink.
"What? Who was that?" A gravelly voice called.
"Arden. That was terrible and dumb of you. Don't do it again." I said.
"Sorry." She said un-apologetically. The owner of the voice, a tall, pale man with a bloody NCR helmet and a...
"Oh Christ. He has a fucking Incinerator." Arden said. He proceeded to fire the Incinerator directly at Arden. She dived out of the way as the resulting fireball singed her ridiculous hair.
"You jerkoff!" Arden shouted. I drew my pistol and turned on the aiming function. Four shots to the head, I figured, ought to do it. It didn't.
"What?" Arden shouted. "He stays upright through four headshots, but I get one and go into a coma? Fuck that!" She said, running towards him with a ridiculous speed and tearing his head off with judicious application of switchblade. The severed body part sailed off in an arc.
"Well." I said. "Let's loot this one, shall we?" Arden simply panted in response. "Leather armor, exceptionally well made, some cigs, a tire iron. That's it."
"Another tire iron?" Arden said. "Where do they keep getting these things from?"
"Cars."
"I have never actually seen a tire iron in a car before."
"You've got a point. Do you want the armor? I have to stay in uniform all the time."
"Don't mind if I do." Arden said, picking up the armor.
"Let's bounce."
Beagle was waiting right outside. He mentioned something about needing a sheriff.
"I don't understand. Aren't you the sheriff now?" Arden said.
"Sheriffdom isn't like presidency. To answer your question, I'm sure I could convince the NCR top brass to send some more troops down here and annex the town." I said. "Shit I wasn't supposed to tell yout that, was I?"
"No, you probably weren't." Beagle said before strolling off to his house like the smug jerk he was.
"So, I'm going to go to the Mojave Outpost and talk to the people there. Would you like to come with me?" I asked Arden. She laughed at me.
"No. I'm going to get drunk. Then, you know, take it from there."
"So this is the last time we're ever going to see each other." I said, suddenly forlorn. Arden snorted.
"Please. You really think that's even possible? Of course we're going to rub shoulders again. I mean, you're going to have to come back her with the rest of the troops, and I'm going to be getting as hammered as possible while that happens. Mojave Outpost is like, what, three hours round trip? See you in a bit." She said.