Gate: Thus the Wasteland Fought There and Beyond !

by CurdonThatBastard

A strange Gate opened in the borders of the Mojave Wasteland, the newly formed alliance decided to examine it, what they found was a Gate to a whole other world. New conflicts and bloody wars will occur because in whatever kind of outer dimension or fantasies you are. War. War never changes.

11. Fear and Loathing in the Strip

[1845 hours, Freeside, Mojave Wasteland, Wasteland]

"Stay close to me, this part of town is not the safest around here."

"Yes…"

The Courier wrapped one of his arms around Pina's figure, ensuring her close proximity to him as they maneuvered through the teeming masses that congested the streets of Freeside.

The two of them had been forced to leave their motorcycle at the entrance to the city because of the lack of roads within the district. Or rather, the inability to build one due to the sheer density of people in the streets.

Normally, to get to the Strip, most sane and above all wealthy persons would stay clear of Freeside and opt for the monorail at Camp McCarran, now called Station McCarran after the NCR's departure post-Hoover Dam and its conversion into a civilian monorail station. However, stringent security measures were implemented after a thwarted bomb threat some years ago, making it outright impossible to smuggle even a casino chocolate chip through security. So, with the Courier in the company of an escaped political prisoner, the idea was obviously brushed aside.

Hence, their sole option was to blend in with the unwashed masses, traversing the grimy streets of the poor neighborhood in hopes of gaining passage through the Strip North Gate.

Pina's gaze darted anxiously around, she had never thought that this would be her introduction to New Vegas, a stark contrast to the opulence and lights she expected to be greeted by. Instead, her expectations of grandeur and glitz were replaced by urban decay and dilapidation.

The neighborhood did earn a few improvements from its new benevolent overseer, Mr. House, primarily in the form of Securitrons patrols and more improved accommodations and living conditions. Nevertheless, Freeside still managed to retain its image as the infamous slum of New Vegas, plagued by the poor and criminals of all kinds.

In fact, it felt like the place was only getting rougher and more crowded, probably thanks to the renewed influx of visitors from the rest of the Coalition, and with them, all the scum from New Reno to the Den.

But this influx brought benefits as well, new businesses sprouted up, street vendors claimed nearly every available inch of real estate with their makeshift stalls. Street performers, mostly rejects from the Strip, showcased their talents in a bid to earn enough money to make it back home. And let's not forget the typical beggars and crackheads, who are as much a part of the slum's culture as the crumbling buildings and the cheap hookers.

At least, the number of homicides and other violent crimes has decreased.

For the Courier, it was just a monotonous walk through the rough part of town, but for Pina, it was a perilous journey, similar to when she was escorted through the slums of the capital. In fact, she somehow found the desperate and miserable faces around strikingly similar to those in her own world, a testament to the fact that misery transcended dimensions.

It was also a good opportunity to observe a large sample of this world's population. Unlike her home world, the people of this world were mostly compromised humans, at least that's what she thought at first, until she came face to face with one of the wasteland's odd-looking set of individuals.

They looked normal from a distance until one got close enough to them and began noticing with horror the rotting, decaying skin, the patches of unkempt hair, the white, bloodshot eyes, and the horrible smell of rotting flesh.

At first, she thought they were like the undead creatures that had attacked their convoy on her arrival, but unlike them, these 'people' acted identically to humans. They dressed like humans, ate and drank like humans, and if you compared their voices to those of a dwarf who spent his entire life in booze and mine shafts, they spoke like humans, too.

"Whatcha looking at, smoothskin? See something funny?"

The red-haired princess immediately averted her gaze in intimidation from the ghoul beggar passing next to her, earning her a gentle reprimanding from the Courier. "Didn't I tell you to stop staring at them like that? Most of them find it quite offensive…"

"Yeah. Sorry…"

The two continued on their way, passing the Atomic Wrangler, which hadn't changed much except for a few improvements to accommodate more customers. An old drunk was thrown out of the establishment, hurling a barrage of insults at the bodyguard before turning on his heels, his debauched gaze falling on Pina's alluring figure.

"Hey, lady! Why don't you lose the ranger over here and get down with a real man!" the drunkard spat at the redhead, stumbling toward her, the liquor in his hand flicking all around.

"Courier…" Pina leaned even closer to the Courier and looked at him uncomfortably. She didn't have to say another word as the Courier took a quick step towards the individual, in the same motion, his trench coat whipped in the wind to reveal the revolver underneath.

The sight of the big iron on his hip magically sobered the man as he walked away without saying much more, the Courier turned back to the Princess, his gaze growing more tense. "Come on, let's not hang around here any longer, or I might inaugurate this visit with a homicide…"

The two continued on their way, passing by the ruins of the former Silver Rush, the late Van Graff's shop and hideout. Which had turned into a green mist along with its owners after a freak 'accident' involving some plasma bombs. Now it laid the foundation for Mick & Ralph's next business venture, the two brothers decided to split up to expand their reach on the neighborhood, with Mick finally getting his own gun shop.

Next came the Kings' hideout, the King's School of Impersonation, which surprisingly didn't change a brick or a strand of its members' unique hairdos. After Hoover Dam, the Kings and House eventually found accord, they vowed to keep the main streets clean of nuisances attempting to infiltrate the Strip in exchange for Securitrons and financial support. A more convenient deal proposed by the Courier than the RobCo CEO original plan to flush them out.

As a result, the Kings' headquarters soon became a must-visit spot in Freeside, attracting pilgrims from all over the wasteland, eager to learn more about the strange deity known as 'The King' and his divine style and singing talent.

The Kings hanging by the entrance spotted the Courier passing by and showered him with all kinds of warm greetings and praise, urging him to come inside for a few drinks. The Courier responded with a slight wave and excused himself, promising to come back another time. Pina found the sight strange, seeing these mean-looking, oddly-haired ruffians immediately change their tone to obedient subordinates the moment the Courier came into view.

The two finally arrived at the Strip's North Gate, the line that separated the poor and wretched from the rich and lavish. The infamous gate finally received a more official makeover, and by official, large cinder blocks and twenty-foot high electric fences. At least the rusted signs were still there, probably for iconic purposes.

Two Securitrons were placed on either side of the entrance, with two more stationed on some platforms above them. The sight of such strange steel golems still frightened Pina, no matter how many times the Courier explained to her about the inner workings of a robot and how they were not ferocious as long as you did not give them a reason to use their weapons.

After much hesitation from the princess, the two finally began to cross the checkpoint. For some reason, the Securitrons kept their cameras away from the Courier and the woman, either due to some kind of glitch or probably a deliberate manipulation by their omnipresent master. The two used this window of opportunity to casually pass through the gate unimpeded.

---

[1535 hours, JSDF - Coalition Front, Empire, Special Region]

"Shit! They're everywhere!"

"Don't bother shooting back! Just keep running!"

The Third Recon Squad dashed through the woods, their breaths labored, and hearts pounding in their chests. Laser beams and plasma bolts from the chasing Enclave soldiers cut through the air around them. They knew engaging in a firefight would be futile and survival was their only focus.

Earlier on, no sooner had the squad joined the rest of the JSDF on the outskirts of the camp that a Vertibirdsappeared above them out of nowhere. Surprised, the Japanese were sitting ducks for the rain of laser beams and plasma bolts, many of them liquefied and burned to ashes during the initial assault. Despite their numerical advantage, the JSDF was outmatched by the technologically superior Enclave, whose elite Power Armor-clad units wreaked havoc among the uncovered ranks of the Japanese.

Itami's squad barely made it out of the woods by the skin of their teeth, delving deeper into the forest in search of their vehicles. As they distanced themselves from the camp, the sounds of battle gradually faded, the energy blasts and gunfire became echoes from the mission they had shamefully fled from. And eventually, the Enclave's pursuit seemed to have been abandoned, as no energy projectile came in their way anymore.

Finally, they reached their Humvee emplacement, providing a brief respite from the relentless assault. Kuribayashi and a few others secured the perimeter, ever-vigilant for any signs of the enemy's return. Despite her injuries, Shino's indomitable spirit kept her awake and sharply focused, scanning the area with her finger on the trigger.

She didn't know how did the Enclave knew their position. In fact, Nobody did. But a little bird told her that the NCR Ranger might have been the one who called them in the first place and stalled the JSDF until they could come. This minor speculation bought a mix of frustration and anger, only increasing her contempt to the man as even in his dead, he had proved to be thorn to her psyche.

Meanwhile, old man Kuwahara and the rest of the squad prepared the cars for departure. Still, there was a sense of distress in the air, as they needed to treat their wounded as quickly as possible. Leading Private Hitoshi Furuta and Leading Private Daisuke Tozu both fortunately received non-threatening wounds, a leg pierced by a laser beam and a second degree burn on the shoulder respectively. The same could not be said for their third wounded, whose urgent situation started to ring some alarm bells within the crew.

"Kurokawa, how is he?" Itami inquired as he crouched down beside the combat medic who was treating Tomita's wound, a distressed grimace on his face as he watched the woman's work without disturbing her.

"Not good." Mari replied without missing a beat, too focused on the injury in front of her. A concentrated expression on her face concealing a torrent of anxiety as she tried her best to minimize the damage with the limited resources at her disposal.

While she could treat gunshot wounds and broken bones with her eyes closed, she was not trained to treat energy weapon wounds, no one in her position did. The laser beam had pierced through the right side of Akira's abdomen, leaving a hole large enough for her to see through. Thankfully, the laser's heat had cauterized the wound as it passed through, freeing her from any worry about external bleeding, as the man would have already died from blood loss by now. Still, it didn't take her mind off the potential internal damage and worse, severe internal bleeding.

It was truly a miracle the man was still awake, as well as a testament to the rifleman's impressive resilience. Drops of sweat lingering on his forehead as he clenched his teeth and silently endured through the pain, faintly groaning the few times Kurokawa exercised more pressure than he could resist. But his state was visibly deteriorating, and she needed to act quick.

"This is the best I can do for now…" the medic finally sighed as she finished her treatment, bandaging the wound as best she could. A feeling of unfulfillment filled her chest as she knew that more extensive medical attention was urgently needed, or he would succumb to his wound.

The defeatist expression on the woman's face was enough to convey the hopelessness of the situation to Itami, who glanced aside in frustration. He could still make out the faint sounds of helicopter blades spinning in the distance, meaning that the Vertibird was still lingering in the area, probably searching for any JSDF escapees. They wouldn't stay too long, though, for they must be aware that JSDF reinforcements were coming this way.

Their attack looked more like a vindictive retaliation than a real attempt to retake the camp.

The First Lieutenant's frustration and anger grew even more at the thought, his expression tense and his teeth clenched. He never seemed to take a break. Even in victory, it felt like the JSDF still lost, at least in terms of casualties.

"I'll see if I can get a medical evac," Itami declared, reaching for his radio, but his second-in-command intervened, deeming the current situation too hazardous. "Don't expect a helicopter evac with those damn helicopters, or whatever the heck they're supposed to be, still looming over our heads. I think it might even risk us being made out…" Kuwahara simply stated.

Reluctantly, the First Lieutenant let go of the radio, acknowledging the truth in his seasoned comrade's words. Their only other option seemed to wait for the Vertibird to disperse before heading back to HQ, Itami glanced at Kurokawa, her uncertainty evident as she looked down at the wounded man, doubting that he would even make it back to Alnus Hill in his current state.

The situation weighed heavily on Itami, torn between risking Akira's life or the safety of the entire group.

Suddenly, a faint snap of branches alerted the team, quickly drawing their attention to whoever was trying to sneak up on them with deadly intent. In the center of their line of fire stood a single woman emerging from some bushes, her arms raised slightly in a sign of compliance. The First Lieutenant's face, and that of the rest of the Third Recon Squad, lit up as they quickly recognized the woman from her white lab coat and peculiar brown Mohawk.

"Take it easy, I mean no harm," Julie Farkas explained in English, a tone of civility in her voice. The group made no reply, keeping their weapons pointed at her, ready to fire at a moment's notice. The Followers leader could feel the palpable hostility in the air. As she had expected, these people obviously didn't trust her, it was a surprise that they didn't shoot her the moment she appeared.

"You don't need to point your weapons at me, see, I'm unarmed." she said, showing, with no sudden moves, the inside of her cloak to confirm her claim. This confused the Japanese, they looked at each other unsure what to do, eventually some of them loosened their grip on their weapons, Kurokawa was one of them.

"Oh yeah?" Mari stepped forward, taking on the role of negotiator and translator as being the most proficient English speaker in her group. "Then what are you doing here?" she inquired, giving the woman a suspicious glance.

"I see you have wounded in your party. My people have set up some medical tents a short distance from here. I think we can help." Julie replied, eliciting a quick and erratic response from Kuribayashi, her rifle still trained on the unknown woman.

"Fuck no! We ain't taking any of our people to these guys!"

Kurokawa, while not keen on the way Kurokawa expressed her opinion, still agreed with her. She also wanted to show her comrades, especially Itami, that she wasn't on friendly terms with an evil faction like the Coalition, so she deliberately adopted a harsher approach in her language. "You're from the Coalition. You have wreaked havoc and caused countless suffering. How can we trust you?"

Despite the visibly harsher tone in front of her, Julie kept her composure, calmly shaking her head to dispel a common misconception. "We are not part of the West Coast Coalition, if that's what you're afraid of. While we have an everlasting partnership with them, we are an independent humanitarian organization aiming to help those in need."

The response surprised the combat medic, who translated it to the Japanese troops, who also drew stunned expressions.

"So you're some kind of Red Cross or something?" asked Itami, a mix of confusion and suspision marred on his face, Kurokawa translated back.

"I don't know exactly what this Red Cross is, but if they are known for aiding the weak, then yes, that describes us pretty well. We mainly provide medical treatment in times of war to all people in the area, including armed and unarmed forces, which means that this support is extended to the JSDF as well. In fact, we have some of your wounded in our care right now," Julie explained.

This astonished Mari, and while she had doubted tFarkas intentions at first, the woman's calm and collected demeanor in the mist of the intense situation, reluctantly began to warm the combat medic's heart. In fact, she couldn't help but feel an odd current between them, as if their medical instincts surpassed their adversarial positions.

Kurokawa translated back to the crew and after much deliberation decided that this was their best chance to save Sergeant Tomita. "Itami, what I'm about to say may sound preposterous, but they're probably our best chance to save Akira…"

A look of uneasiness crossed Itami's face, fearing that his collegue had once again fallen for the Coalition's deceptions despite his countless warnings. Under the current circumstances, however, he began to feel a twinge of conflict in his convictions.

Kurokawa pressed on, emphasizing the urgency of the situation. "You know very well that we can't get him to Alnus in time. I know how you feel about this people, but we have to do something."

Julie, noticing the First Lieutenant's conflicted expression, also weighed in on the situation. "What I'm about to say may sound harsh, but from experience, your friend is not going to make it to wherever you are planning to take him, he needs immediate medical attention…"

Itami remained silent for a moment, still struggling for a decision. A glance went to Tomita, who was lying on the floor, his head slowly slumping down, his skin turned pale and his closed eyes sank. The only signs of life were the weak lifts of his chest, clinging to life by a threat.

The heart-wrenching sight finally compelled him to make a decision. Although dealing with the enemy was utterly abhorrent, he couldn't let one of his friends die like that. That sliver of humanity still existed within him.

Itami finally agreed and turned to his group. "I and Kurokawa will go with her, but I need some of you to carry the wounded. As for the rest of you, stay here until we call or something like that."

"Actually, I don't think it would be necessary for you to carry them." Julie noted as she made a slight gesture with her hand. Suddenly, a group of Followers of the Apocalypse appeared out of nowhere after deactivating their Stealth Boys, surrounding the Third Recon Squad with their weapons pointed at them before quickly putting them down.

The JSDF were caught off guard by the sudden event, before all eyes turned to Julie, expecting an explanation to such spectacle. Unexpectedly discovering the precariousness behind her facade, a trait that seemed to be shared by most of the wastelanders they encountered so far.

The woman, still calm and composed, displayed a faint smile mixed with apology and a dash of amusement. "My deepest apologies, while I am not a fan of this kind of tricks, I had to take some precautions. I think you'll understand…"

---

[2100 hours, New Vegas Strip, Mojave Wasteland, Wasteland]

This was it, she was finally inside.

After such a long trek, miles of scorched desert and unbearable heat, through the treacherous alleys of Freeside. She had finally arrived at the fabulous New Vegas Strip, the vibrant sights and lights that had once been a distant dream from Cottonwood Cove were now within her reach.

What more can be added that hasn't already been said? The contrast between this place and Freeside was completely bewildering, akin to traversing a whole different Gate to another dimension.

Pina was simply too engrossed in the magnificent sights and mesmerizing light shows, while the Courier painstakingly tried to pull her forward, doing his best to keep her out of the public eye.

Not much had changed in the Strip after Hoover Dam and the reunification, except perhaps a change in leadership at the Gomorrah after a violent shootout between the Omertas along with an unknown assailant. A few less prominent hotel and casinos also opened around to handle the much larger influx of people and caps, all varying in degrees of success, while they did were not able to join the exclusive club of the Three Families, their presence was quite welcome by Mr. House as long as they brought caps to the man.

The energy of the Strip was palpable, barely manageable for Pina as a whirlwind of emotions swept over her. The air was alive with a symphony of music of unknown origin, laughter, and merriment echoed from every corner, all mixed in a delightful cocktail of bliss and energy.

The streets were lined with lamps and palm trees, populated by a variety of intriguing individuals, from NCR troopers drunk on the job, quickly dealt by the Securitrons. To the many harlots of the Gomorrah who lured lonely tourists into the entrails of the promiscuous establishment. To the big shot high rollers roaming the Ultra-Luxe, their opulence and great wealth displayed in their strut and the smoking hot women by their arms.

The architecture was nothing short of awe-inspiring, dwarfing even the grandest districts of the Imperial Capital. But all of that paled in comparison to the sight Pina had been eagerly waiting for, even herself was not prepared for the sheer size of the famous spire.

The fabled Lucky 38, the icon of the Strip and the Courier's majestic residence. Its height was so breathtakingly massive that even when she strained her neck to its limits, Pina couldn't see the top of the immense tower. The doors themselves were a sight to behold, four times the height of an average person.

As the Courier and Pina stopped in front of the entrance, the Princess looked rather confused, wondering what they were waiting for. Suddenly, the doors began to make a symphony of rumbling and clinking noises, attracting the attention of the bystanders.

The extremely rare occasions when the Lucky 38 opened its doors were always a sight to behold, quickly attracting a crowd of spectators curious to see who the mystical tower was allowing to enter. They were accustomed to seeing the Courier enter the tower, but their gawking quickly shifted to the mysterious lady by his side.

"Who's that lady with the Courier?"

"Sunuvabitch! How did she get the right to enter the Lucky 38?"

The doors slowly slid open, revealing the mystical innards of the casino. "After you, Princess," the Courier announced, sweeping his arm to the side and welcoming the princess into his peculiar domain, a smirk playing on his lips.

Pina inadvertently took a step back, intimidated by the sheer imposing glamour of the unknown interior, but the Courier's reassuring presence gave her the courage to continue. Taking a deep breath, Pina stepped forward and entered the Lucky 38. The doors closed behind them as they opened, allowing the princess's burgundy eyes to adjust to the dark, dusty carpets and dimly lit neon lights.

The inside was… shockingly underwhelming, in fact the complete opposite of what Pina had expected.

She was greeted by an eerie silence that hung heavy in the air, as the main floor of the casino lay deserted and abandoned, covered in a strange dark smog that filled the air. Dust coated every surface, as if the place hadn't been cleaned in decades, centuries even.

The interior was bathed in a mix of darkened hues coming from the flickering neon signs and ambient lights, mostly a vibrant red from the dusty lanterns adorning the ceiling. Slot machines, playing cards, empty bottles, and glasses were scattered across the floor, left untouched since the day they were abandoned.

The faint hum of machinery and grim creaks echoed within the cracked walls, a faint reminder that the Lucky 38 was still operating, its systems maintained by unseen forces. Along the peeled, faded wallpaper, frames lined the walls, most of them shattered and battered by time and neglect. The few intact pictures mostly served as advertisements for the mythical status of the Lucky 38 before the Great War. Depicting scenes of extreme luxury, with high rollers and gamblers wearing beaming smiles while indulging in the casino's offerings at the gaming tables or the opulent lounge bar.

All that remained of those distant, illustrious times was a haunting relic of a bygone era.

"Sorry for the mess, place's not used to visitors…" the Courier apologized as he approached the elevator at the center, in the meantime, Pina took a moment to wander around the desolate casino floor, mesmerized by the strange decoration.

"I assume this is Lord House's residency as well, right?" she inquired.

Lord House, or as the Courier referred to him, 'Mr. House', was an enigmatic character to Pina, somehow surpassing even the Courier in term of that. Although he was the de facto ruler of the Mojave Wasteland, the founder of New Vegas, and, most baffling of all, the Couriers supposed superior. She had never been introduced to him, never even heard his voice, and did not even know what he looked like in person.

Also, the Courier's laid-back demeanor and seemingly independent judgments didn't indicate someone who had to answer to a superior, unless he managed acquired a blinding trust from him to enjoy so much autonomy.

The Courier just nodded, "Yeah, although he hasn't left his room for the last two hundred years or so..."

"Tw-Two hundred years?!" Pina gasped in shock. The realization struck her like an arrow. The princess might have inadvertently found herself in the realm of some kind of immortal sorcerer, and if he managed to get a formidable warrior like the Courier to willingly be under his wing, a very powerful one at that.

The thought sent a shiver down her spine, and she looked up at the ceiling, feeling a mix of unworthiness and fear overwhelm her. "Do you really think that I am supposed to be here?" she asked, her voice trembling.

"Why would you say that? The man wouldn't have let you in here if he didn't want to. Shit, you wouldn't even be able to set foot on the Strip," the Courier replied before turning his attention to the elevator door and calling it.

The Courier's words only intensified Pina's fear, if what he had said was true, then Lord House must been in possession of powers hither to undreamt of, he could be watching her this instant, following her every move and pondering wether she was truly worthy of entering his realm...

In a desperate display of respect and gratitude, and fear of getting smitten barging in his house with so much insolence. Pina bowed down and exclaimed, her voice accidentally breaking by the sheer panic. "Th-Thank you, Lord House, for your immense hospitality!"

The only response she received was the echo of her own voice reverberating back to her, then an awkward silence. Pina stood back up, her face turning as red as a tomato. She didn't know what was more embarrassing, the lack of any response from the master of these domains or the way the Courier looked at her, slightly amused by her demonstration. "I think he got the message."

Finally, Pina got some sort of answer when the elevator dinged, indicating the opening of its doors. The two entered the elevator and soon arrived at the Courier's High Roller Suite.

Unlike the rest of the abandoned tower, this place at least looked like someone lived in it. "Welcome to my humble quarters." The Courier greeted Pina. "Although, I'm thinking of moving somewhere else. Found an vacant penthouse a few floors up, just need to recalibrate the elevator and clean it up…"

The Courier gave her a quick tour of the presidential suite, pointing out most of the useful things she needed to know around the crib, before ending it in the guest room. "Bathroom's over here, and that closet over there is where Veronica usually keeps her collection of dresses, you can take whatever you want, I'm sure she won't mind."

A feeling of relief washed over Pina at the news, happy to finally be able to exchange the old and sweaty jumpsuit she had been wearing for something else, hopefully clean. The Courier told her to take her time getting ready and finally left her alone with her thoughts.

The guest room was quite large and reminded her of the ones in her own household. Though the aesthetics were visibly different, the sumptuousness of this chamber began to satisfy the luxurious demands she craved as a princess.

Her ears caught the faint sounds from outside, the nightlife was getting more and more lively. Trepidation began to fill her chest as she wondered what kind of places the Courier would take them, as long as it wasn't the repugnant den of debauchery they had passed earlier.

Longing for a long, steamy bath to wash off the dirt she had collected during the entire journey, she began to undress. Feeling the comforting pleasure of removing the tight jumpsuit that was beginning to cling to her like a second skin. Suddenly she stopped dead in her undressing, the garment reaching down to her shoulders, as her senses awakened, and she noticed something moving in the mirror in front of her.

She quickly spun around and came face to face with the person sneaking up behind her. It was a white man of muscular build, probably military, given the red beret on his shaved head and his outfit similar to those worn by the NCR. Deep dark sunglasses covered most of his chiseled face, hiding a pair of frowning deep green eyes that pierced Pina with deadly precision. The man's expression was one of extreme stoicism as he carefully examined the woman from head to toe, one hand on his holster.

Pina let out a loud scream of terror, causing the door to the guest room to burst open, revealing the Courier dressed in a much more casual attire, who rushed in to see what was wrong.

The Courier and the unknown man made eye contact, a moment of silence passing before the Courier sighed in disbelief. "Jesus Christ, Boone! Can't you make yourself known?"

"Sorry, I didn't mean to startle her…" Craig Boon muttered in his deep, low voice, unchanged since the days when he and the Courier roamed the wastes. The Courier quickly motioned for the sniper to leave the room with a wave of his hand, then shifted his gaze to the frightened princess.

"It's all right, Princess, friend of mine. He just likes to sneak up on people…"

Stunned and flustered, Pina's gaze met the Courier's stare with silence. The terrifying event had left her heart racing, her bare skin twitching up, barely hidden by her crossed arms.

The Courier closed the door and turned his attention to Boone, while he wasn't approving of the man's action, the emotions to reunite with him after a long time overcast any further rancor. Soon after, the two men decided to take a seat in the lounge to catch up, like with the rest of his companions, the Courier and the NCR veteran had rarely seen each other, their past encounter going back nearly a year ago.

After Hoover Dam, Boone took a job as a caravan guard. At first limiting himself to Highway 95, preferring not to stray too far from the town that introduced him to his late wife, he then began to take on more distant assignments, now going all the way to Shady Sands. His sharpshooting skills earned him fame among the traveler community, as being the only man capable of leading a convoy through the treacherous Khan and Viper territories north of New Vegas.

The Courier has noticed that Boone has begun to display more relaxed expressions, suggesting that his road to self-healing has been going well. Although the Courier knew that the sniper's past still weighed on him, he hoped that he had taken his words of forgiveness to heart.

As the discussion continued, the subject of the woman in the guest room was eventually bought, "I thought House didn't let you bring your girlfriends in here…" Boone commented, intrigued by the woman, since he had noticed the strange language the Courier was speaking to her earlier.

"Come on, man! Why do people keep presuming I've got a women or a hooker at every corner of the wasteland?" the Courier protested, fed up with the baseless accusations.

"Don't you?"

The Courier frowned, preferring not to answer. "Her name's Princess Pina Colada of the Empire of Sadera, pretty high royalty…"

An eyebrow lifted on Boone's face, "What are you doing prowling around with a woman from the other side of the Gate? Doing some sightseeing?"

"Pretty much…" the Courier exhaled in a tired tone, not seeking to disclose any further informations on the woman. He quickly changed the subject back to Boone. "So, what are you doing here? The old man told me it's been a while since you've visited New Vegas."

"The caravan I was escorting stopped here. So I thought I could crash here for the night before I head back to Novac in the morning. If I had known you were coming with a guest, I wouldn't have come and bothered you, sorry again…"

"Hey, come on, man! Are you serious? After all we've been through? " The Courier brushed off the sniper's apology with a wave of his hand and an amused smile. "You know you can come here anytime you want, feel free to stay here as long as you need to as well."

The Courier took a sip from his glass before his eyes flickered, and his tone shifted, following up his words with a profitable proposition for the man. "In fact, why don't you volunteer at the Gate? Show these Empire and JSDF bastards what the Mojave's 'second-best' marksman can do. The change of scenery might do you some good, too, you know?"

The offer brought a faint grin to Boone's face, an unconventional sight, since even the man himself didn't know he could still pull off such an expression. Another attempt by the Courier to get the NCR veteran back in the field, probably by his side once again, and while the offer was tempting, he simply could not accept it. "Sounds tempting, but thanks for the offer. I'm not ready to take that step of my life yet…"

The man emptied his glass and stood up. "I think I'll spend the rest of the night in a bar or something. Leave you and your guest alone, I've spooked that poor girl enough for a lifetime. See you around, Courier Six."

"See you around, Boone."

The conversation ended with a firm fist bump, an act so minor yet one that spoke volumes about the friendship and brotherhood between the two men. After exchanging a few friendly glances, Boone finally headed for the elevator and left.

The Courier stayed alone, a smile still on his lips after the pleasant encounter. He continued his drink until the door of the guest room opened, Pina poking her head out of it and searching with an anxious gaze if Boone was still here. The Courier relieved her with a chuckle that the strange man was gone.

The woman calmed down and stepped out of the door, revealing her new outfit to the Courier's wide eyes. She wore a modest dress, reminiscent of the colors of her former red and white knight armor and matching her burgundy locks, which were tied in a loose bun and swished over her shoulder.

It was a far cry from the majestic outfits the woman used to wear for the Empire formal events, but she was content with what she could manage. She finally felt presentable like a princess for the first time in a long time.

"How do I look?" she murmured, her cheeks flushing through the subtle makeup, struggling to maintain eye contact with the Courier while trying to keep a shy smile on her face.

The Courier stood up from his seat, genuinely impressed by her attire, his smile widening. "I don't think you want an opinion from a man used to see people wear human skulls around their necks as a fashion statement, but if you insist, I think you look absolutely stunning."

The compliment made Pina blush even more, the smile on her red lips changing to a relieved tone. "Thank you, you look great as well."

"Hey, thanks, as long as I look presentable. Come on, let's go. I know a place where we will definetly have fun."

---

[2200 hours, New Vegas Strip, Mojave Wasteland, Wasteland]

The Tops Hotel and Casino, one of the most popular venues on the Strip, a middle ground between the ultra-luxurious Ultra-Luxe and the depraved Gomorrah, stood tall a shinning like never before. Despite the disappearance of their former leader, the Chairmen were still a prominent force within the Three Families, with Swank leaving the front desk of the Tops to run the business.

Since then, the casino had experienced a surge in visitors from all over the Coalition, largely thanks to the Rad Pack Revue, the top entertainment attraction at the Tops, resuming their live performances after touring the New California Republic.

Which probably explained the long line in front of the prestigious establishment. The Courier and Pina stood a short distance away, assessing the situation. The princess winced slightly, dreading the prospect of waiting for hours in the line.

Back in her own world, she never had to stand in line anywhere. Doors would open wide for her, and she would be greeted with fanfare and respect. Being in this situation now made her feel a tad of empathy for the common people who didn't have such privileges she took for granted.

At least she had the company of the Courier, who apparently had an idea to bypass the line. With a charming smile, he leaned closer to Pina and pointed around the building. "I prefer a much better entrance. Less tedious."

He led her to the side of the building where the service entrance was. As he opened the door to the princess, he came face to face with the bodyguard guarding the door. Instead of dismissing him as he was supposed to, the tall, burly man greeted the Courier with a wide grin, which he reciprocated with a handshake and a hundred NCR dollar bill slipped into his hand.

As the two made their way through the corridor, the Courier greeted a few familiar faces before confidently walking into the Tops' kitchen, Pina following close behind. The sounds of sizzling pans and clinking plates mixed with the faint jazzy tunes playing outside the kitchen created a symphony of excitement.

Pina was dragged along by the Courier, open-mouthed at the strange scenes unfolding around her. The duo navigated the maze of cooks and chefs, all too absorbed in their work to pay attention to the couple. The few who made eye contact with the Courier exchanged a few friendly words with the man as they welcomed him and his partner into the lavish establishment.

Once they reached the other side of the kitchen, the Courier, and Pina emerged into the glamorous main hall of the Tops Casino. The sight before them was breathtaking, and Pina's eyes widened in awe. The magnificent chandeliers cast a soft golden glow over the elegantly dressed crowd gathered around the table games and bars. It looked more like one of the prestigious royal galas the princess had attended back on her world, but with a more joyous and exciting New Vegas twist.

The Courier took Pina's hand and led her gracefully to the Aces Theater, where another long line awaited them in front of the entrance. The princess' anxious look returned, conceding that they would get in line after all.

"Hey, hey! Courier! Welcome! Welcome!"

A suave-looking African-American man with an eye-patch over his right eye came out of the crowd of customers clamoring for a table and waved happily at Courier. He quickly motioned for one of the Chairmen to escort the couple inside and set up a table for them.

As the two entered the theater, they were greeted by the soft symphony of the band playing on the stage, accentuating their entrance like the fanfare the princess used to be introduced by. With the confidence of a regular of the place, the Courier led Pina through the rows of tables, under the curious and admiring glances of the seated people. Some of them, acquaintances of the Courier, greeting him warmly, from left and right.

"Hey Slick, how are you?"

"What's up guy?"

"Who's that woman with the Courier? She doesn't look like from here..."

"Oh my god! Look at how ravishing her skin and hair are! I want to know her routine!"

Pina was impressed by the casualty with which the Courier and his people interacted with each other. He was supposed to be a formidable warrior, a man of authority, and here are people treating him like a normal friend. Even greeting the princess with the same friendly fervor as the Courier, who simply reciprocated by exchanging small remarks with them all, even the servants.

People of high status in the Empire were treated with the utmost respect, most of the time even with fear. The Empire's strict caste system strictly forbade any interaction between two sections of the pyramid that were too far apart, or they would face severe punishment and even death. Although, most of these punishments were applied to members of the lower classes.

So it was obvious to the princess that the scene was abnormal to her, which made her even more puzzled as to the true status and reputation of the Courier.

Two waiters wedged their way to the stage and placed a table directly in front of it, giving the duo a perfect view of the upcoming spectacle. As the Courier gracefully placed Pina in her seat, he quietly slipped a few dollars to the waiters, greeted and shook hands with another couple of tables behind them, and eventually sat down beside the woman, cracking a sly smile at her.

Pina showed a smile of her own, her eyebrows arched in a skeptical tone at the display he made before her. "Who are you, really?"

The question made the Courier chuckle, and just like last time, he replied with sarcasm and ambiguity. "Just a regular guy who somehow managed to work for the most powerful man this side of the wasteland…"

"I've seen how these people treat you, it doesn't look like the treatment of an ordinary man."

"Well, I guess unlike the pompous entourage you seem to be used to, I try to act normal as always. Most people tend to see that as a positive thing. After all, when humanity has gone through 200 years of anarchy and violent oppression, a little civility usually makes most folks friendlier around here."

The answer impressed Pina with her wide-eyed admiration of the man's humility despite his supposed status. But it only made her more puzzled, as she wondered what kind of feat a man so moderate and unassuming had accomplished to gain such influence.

As the band finished the introductory set, the host appeared on stage, smiling broadly, his abnormally white teeth and oily slicked-back hair gleaming in the spotlight. "And now, ladies and gentlemen! The Aces Theater is proud to present a brand-new first on our stage! Henry, the King of the One-Liner!"

The crowd clapped in unison as the spotlights shifted to reveal a lone Protectron in the center of the stage, waving to the audience with robotic movements.

"Th-ank you! Th-ank you very much. What a crowd! Makes me even happier to have left my wife back at the factory!"

~Badum Tss~

A burst of laughter erupted from the crowd, followed by a few claps as the show continued. The princess obviously did not understand a single word of what the robot was saying. While she still did not find this worlds entertainment to her liking, she preferred to remain politely silent so as not to spoil the amusement. Especially for the Courier, who seemed to be genuinely entertained by his stealthy chuckles and amused expressions. However, the Courier soon noticed the woman's apparent boredom and reassured her that more entertaining acts were yet to come.

As the show continued, a shifty-looking man in a trench coat suddenly got up from his seat and slowly approached the duo's table, a hand hidden in his coat. The unknown man had a grim expression on his pale face, his deranged eyes fixed on the two.

The Courier was too engrossed in the show to hear the man over the din of the room. He seemed to move like a ghost, conspicuous among the guests who somehow failed to notice him despite his tall stature. He was shrouded in the darkness of the dimly lit room, only briefly illuminated by the moving lights, his dead, piercing eyes flickering.

Closing the distance, he drew a small police pistol from his coat, pointed it in their general direction, put his index finger on the trigger, and…

*click click*

The safety was on. The idiot didn't even take the safety off.

"HE'S GOTTA GUN!"

Before the guy realized his blunder, a fist found its way deep into his grimace, sending him back to a nearby table, where he was immediately restrained by the patrons. They tackled him on the table and served him all kinds of punches and kicks. The sight was quite gruesome as soon almost the entire theater, men and women, piled on top of the man and continued to viciously attack him.

"Piece of shit thought he could pull this kinda of stunt in our turf?!"

"Fuckin' hell! This shit happens every two month!"

The Courier backed away, wincing in pain, feeling his knuckles sore from the sheer force of the punch. He continued to watch the beating as it became so intense that the table crashed to the ground and the group continued to stomp on the guy.

Taking advantage of the brutal commotion, the Courier quickly dragged Pina, still stunned by the unfolding event, and slipped out of the theater.

---

[1623 hours, Unnamed Forest, Empire, Special Region]

Itami and Kurokawa followed the Followers of the Apocalypse leader through the dense forest, with some Followers behind them lifting the injured JSDF soldiers on stretchers. Thankfully, Tomita's condition seemed to have stabilized, thanks to the urgent efforts of the ir saviors, who were better equipped to treat his type of injury than Kurokawa's thin medic bag.

A wave of relief washed over Mari at the helping hand of the Followers, as she only cared about the recovery of her teammates, no matter who provided the aid. Itami, on the other hand, had a different perspective. He kept a dubious eye on Julie while resting a hand on his holster. Despite their seemingly good intentions, he hadn't fully trusted this unknown faction due to the two previous stunts he had personally witnessed them pull.

"How the hell did a humanitarian goody-two-shoes faction like yours managed to develop within something like the Coalition?" Itami asked Julie dryly, with Kurokawa's help translating between them.

Julie turned to the First Lieutenant and answered. "The Followers of the Apocalypse were founded long before the Coalition, even before something called the New California Republic was just an idea in the head of an old man in a village in the middle of nowhere. Since then, we have worked hard to provide some relief to the people of the wasteland during the countless conflicts and horrors that have plagued our land. We also try to promote research and education in the hope of shedding our violent nature and forging coexistence and prosperity."

The combat medic translated the woman's answer back to the lieutenant, who replied. "So I guess they're more than just a Red Cross equivalent, they're the whole U.N."

Itami's mention of the United Nations caught the ear of Julie, who asked curiously. "The U.N.? Are you referring to the United Nations?"

Kurokawa raised an eyebrow at Julie's question, surprised by her knowledge. "Do you know them?"

"Barely, as far as we know, they disbanded decades before the Great War, unable to calm the brooding wars that followed. We hope we can do a better job than they did."

The United Nations, another increment in the similarities between the two worlds in the mist of their dissimilarities.

No one knew what ultimately sold it to the JSDF, the enemy speaking English, the guns and modern technology, or the fact that they were fighting the remnants of the damn United States of America. But it took them a while to finally grasp and accept that they were fighting their own, humans, not some kind of foreign adversary like in a fantasy setting, but an actual alternate planet Earth.

Just like the Courier, the woman's tone was tame, indifferent at the mention of the terrible catastrophe that had scarred her world two hundred years ago. For the two Japanese, however, it garnered an uneasy glance shared between them at the mention of this so called 'Great War'.

It had taken some time, but the JSDF had eventually pieced together the events that led to the creation of the Coalition's world and the calamitous occurrences that followed. An alternate timeline where the foolishness of the old world led to the Cold War getting hot, extremely hot.

The Cuban Missile Crisis, the Stanislav Petrov incident, the 1983 WarGames movie… so many close calls that could have resulted in their world struck by nuclear Armageddon, eventually transforming Earth into a wasteland akin to the Courier and his people's. Thankfully, those days of paranoia were long behind them, and they were now on a path of disarmament, albeit with some bumps along the way.

Still, the woman walking ahead of Itami and Kurokawa served as a constant grim reminder of what one of those closed calls could have turned. They hated to admit it, but now as they see from their perspective, they were starting to understand the Coalition's need to expand beyond the Gate, albeit not justifying at the detriment of its natives.

"However, we probably would have never reached our current potential if it wasn't with the help of our most prominent benefactor, the Courier of the Mojave." Farkas pointed out, earning a shocked stare from the two Japanese soldiers, more prominent on Itami's face.

"Wh-What?" stuttered the First Lieutenant in disbelief, his mouth agape as if his jaw was going to hit the floor.

"The Courier has been of great help in supplying us with resources and financial support, he also has taken great strides in keeping our independence following the reunification. Without him, I don't think we would be able to continue in our vocation. In fact, I don't think the Followers of the Apocalypse would even still exist…"

At the mention of the Courier's generous philanthropy, Mari could feel her cheek fluster as a wide beautiful smile appeared across her face, it felt like a weight had lifted from her chest regarding the Courier's morals. She gave a quick glance in the direction of Itami, with a slightly smug look that said, "I told you so!". The man deliberately averted from her gaze fom her, as an irritated frown drew on his face with a mix of disbelief and denial surging in his body.

The Courier, the scourge of the JSDF, and Itami's mortal enemy… doing any slight good deeds? Impossible!

The group finally reached the hidden camp, a modest setup, with makeshift medical tents and supplies scattered about. Darting around were dozens of Followers of the Apocalypse treating the many injured, mostly the Coalition's own people but some natives, probably survivors from bandit attacks or some other hazardous events.

Out of their expectations, Julie's claims of treating JSDF personnel turned out to be a true, as some of the one who participated in the camp raid, lay among the injured and taken care of by the Followers with just the same attention as the rest.

Itami ran towards one of the Japanese soldiers and asked him how they ended up here. "We got attacked by one of those damn Vertibirds and left for dead. We thought we were done for, until these people in white coats showed up and saved our lives…" the injured soldier replied, a faint sound of gratefulness creeping in between the pain in his voice.

Following that, the Third Squad Recon's injured members were soon transported to one of the tents under the careful guidance of the Followers of the Apocalypse leader, who then rejoined Itami and Kurokawa.

"They are now in great care and should be in perfect shape in no time."

"Thank you so much for helping us, Miss Farkas!" Kurokawa expressed her gratitude, her blue eyes sparkling, beaming in relief.

"Please, call me Julie." Farkas replied, reciprocating with a smile of her own.

Itami on the other hand didn't react much at the good news, keeping a jaded expression as he reached for his radio, "I'll radio the rest of the squad to come here to pick us up when they are treated." He coldly declared before commiting to his words.

As he finished, he emitted a faint groan, feeling a tad of soreness emanating from his right shoulder as he rotated his arm around, perking the attention of the Followers leader. "How long have you been feeling soreness in your shoulder?" she asked.

"I don't know, since your people attacked our base?" shot back Itami, sending a few antagonistic glares to Kurokawa from time to time to try to emphasize on who he was referring to.

The combat medic didn't like his innuendos, which prompted her to interject. "I've been trying to see it check, but he kept refusing, disregarding it as a strained muscle or something…"

"Hmm, I see…"

Julie then surged behind the First Lieutenant out of nowhere and grabbed his arm and shoulder under his baffled protestations. "Hey! What do you think you are doing?!"

"Stand still, I don't want to accidentally dislocate your shoulder or something…" declared the woman, carefully examining the sore area. "Hmm, looks like a badly healed shoulder blade…"

The revelation didn't surprise Kurokawa. After the attack, the First Lieutenant didn't let himself rest, likely driven by guilt or the desire for revenge. This likely contributed to his injuries not fully healing, and possibly intensified his recent crankiness and mood swings.

"Ow! What the hell!"

Julie skillfully injected a Stimpak into his neck in a swift motion.

"That'll do it."

"Wow! Not freaking cool!" the First Lieutenant cried out, rubbing his neck while throwing a absurdly angry fit at the woman, as if he regained his good ol' goofy demeanor after all his coldness and bad mood just got deflated by the pluck of the syringe.

"The Stimpak should do its effect in a short notice, you should be fine." Reassured Julie with an amused smile.

Itami didn't reply, not even a thank you, and grumpily preferred to walk away from the women before they find another reason to stick another needle in him. The two medic women shared a chuckle at the amusing way the First Lieutenant departed, then decided to sit somewhere and have a short discussion.

"I cannot help but notice that you seem well-versed in humanitarian efforts. I presume the JSDF also has some kind of charity program?" Julie asked with an intrigued smile.

"Kind of. We have established modest accommodations for our native populace and war refugees. We also provide some illiteracy-fighting programs." Kurokawa replied.

"I see. That is a good initiative," Julie acknowledged.

"Not as good as yours. Your people seem to have a far-reaching impact in helping the people around here, than we could ever do..." Kurokawa complimented, her expression amalgamated between admiration and melancholy.

"Please, this is not a competition. Also, our base simply cannot accept natives due to the dangers beyond our Gate and the risk of introducing foreign diseases, so we outsource our efforts around the region. Speaking of diseases, do you guys take any precautions on that matter? We don't want the locals around here to suffer the same fate as the Native Americans…"

Kurokawa's eyes widen in astonishment, not expecting the woman's knowledge on the subject. "Of course, we make sure to keep their living spaces sanitized from any otherworldly bacteria while we are proceeding with a vaccination program. It is going on a snail pace, but we are getting there."

"Good." Julie nodded with an appreciative tone. Mari was touched by the woman's genuine concern for the people of this land, even if they were collaborators of her people's enemy. It showed her selfless nature, surpassing the bothersome hurdles of politics which was something Kurokawa shared as well.

Unfortunately, their conversation was abruptly interrupted by the sudden appearance of tall armor clad soldiers storming the insides of the tents as if they own it. Under further inspections, these individuals turned to be Enclave soldiers, probably the same who shot at the JSDF from their Vertibird.

"What is the meaning of this! Who let these Gookers in our tent!" one of them cried out in anger, supposedly their leader, while the other soldiers started to mistreat the wounded Japanese soldier into exiting the premises, which caused the Followers of the Apocalypse in a light tussle with them to leave the injured alone.

"Excuse me…" softly spoke Julie before a grave expression contorted her face, a stark contrast from her usual calm demeanor. She rose from her seat, headed in direction to the Enclave leader and faced him head on. "These are OUR tents, Lieutenant, and these people are in need of help as much as your soldiers."

"This is unacceptable! We turned a blind eye to the tribes people, but who gave you the authority to treat sworn enemies of our war effort?"

"This here is a neutral zone, and we insist on keeping it like that. In fact, congratulations Lieutenant, since you and your team indulged us with your kind presence, you just earned a new assignment! You will personally assure the safety of this JSDF personnel by escorting them to their people at the front!"

"What?! No way!" the Enclave commander protested, a visible outraged expression on his face shared by the rest of his team.

"Yes way! Lieutenant! As commanded by the decree personally instituted by the Courier. I am commandeering your Vertibird along with your crew!"

An intense stare down weighed between the two figures. The man menacingly towered over her in his seven feet tall Power Armor, his metallic exoskeleton clanked and whirred as his metal gauntlets curled into fists at his sides, able to crush her tiny head with one fell swoop. His scarred features conveyed only deep animosity to the woman following her insulting order, even considering if he shouldn't murder the woman right here.

But the woman didn't break eye contact, undeterred by any foiled attempts at intimidating her, she was holding herself straight and proud, not backing up against the disgusting brute, not by one bit.

"If you have a problem regarding the manner in which the Followers of the Apocalypse carry out their duties, please do not hesitate to direct your complaints to the Courier directly." She added just to spite the Enclave lieutenant one last time.

In a feat void of any expectation, the man started to feel nervous by Julie's imposing glare, ultimately losing the stare down and looking away, his inflated ego struck by a critical hit. In a desperate attempt to save face, the giant armored man turned heel and walked away. "General Craig will hear about this!"

"Yes, please! I would like to personally give him a say regarding the matters of his recent military decisions! My personnel are stretched too thin to mend his useless casualties!"

Julie swiftly regained her calm demeanor as if nothing happened and turned back at the Kurokawa, who was rejoined by Itami after telling her how the soreness magically disappeared. Both were looking at the woman with wide open mouths, with Kurokawa unable to express her praise enough for the Followers leader's courage.

Julie humbly dismissed her exploit as just her doing her best to help her peers. "Honestly, even I don't know where I started to get the balls to stood up to guys like him. If the Courier hadn't granted the Followers of the Apocalypse so much authority, I would not have even dared to approach the guy…"

The mention of the Courier surged some mixed emotions between the two again, they looked at each other and came to a conclusion, eager to demystify the Courier's supposed altruism once and for all. Mari stepped forward, initiating the inquiry. "If you don't mind my curiosity, how long since the Courier have been a member of the Followers of the Apocalypse?"

"Well, he's not an official member. He doesn't like to be associated with factions, probably to maintain his independence or something like that. However, he's been a loyal contributor since the first time he set foot in the Old Mormon Fort. And the rest is history, there is simply nothing regarding our affairs he hasn't overseen or at least had a hand in." Julie explained.

Mari felt a surge of relief after hearing Julie's words confirming her conviction on the Courier's good karma, Itami on the other hand still wasn't buying it. However, it let a small seed of conflict germinate in his hatred.

"I know he can be a very vicious character, you two seemed to have witnessed plenty of that, but in my opinion, he can be a very kind man, he just has demons to fend off. Practically like everybody from our world." Farkas added, pushing her confirmation even further.

A few hours passed, and one Follower member approached Farkas and whispered something in her ear, causing a small smile to form in her lips. "Seems like your two privates have fully recovered and are able to walk on their own. As for the sergeant, he is still unconscious, but he will be back to normal with no complications, I would just suggest you to tell your superiors to lend him some rest for a few days."

Joy filled the two JSDF soldiers at the great news, a feeling more prominent in Kurokawa's sparkling eyes and wide smile, while Itami only depicted a slightly relieved grin accompanying his weary looks.

Soon enough, the rest of the Third Recon Squad finally arrived aboard their vehicles, Julie looked at the convoy and glanced back at the duo once again. "I see this is where we part ways. For obvious reason, we cannot provide you with our own medical supply, this is one thing out of our jurisdiction. I assume you understand. Please take care."

The woman didn't need to justify her actions any further, she already did so much. Kurokawa clasped her hands to her chest, directing a deeply grateful gesture to Julie. "Once again, we cannot thank you enough for your help. We don't know what we will have done without it…"

Julie accepted her thanks with a humble nod. Mari then turned to Itami, standing there, still reluctant to express his gratitude. After a few nudges from Kurokawa, the First Lieutenant finally relented and faced Julie, a mix of annoyance and hesitant gratitude evident in his expression.

"Thank you," he replied blandly, not willing to elaborate further. Julie responded with an amused grin, offering her hand for a handshake.

"My pleasure, Lieutenant Itami is it?"

"Yeah…" Itami looked at her hand with pure surprise, not expecting her to offer such kindness to him following so much crap given by him. After a moment of hesitation, he eventually reached out and shook her hand. "Thanks for all you did, doc."

And the two sides parted ways, the encounter leaving many warm feelings between them. As for Itami, after many considerations, he ultimately accepted the woman's goodwill in his heart and earned his trust along her faction. Thinking that maybe, these people may be the only pleasant thing that crawled out of that cursed Gate.

---

[0000 hours, Italica, Empire, Special Region]

The palace lay cloaked in the embrace of night, shrouded in darkness that engulfed its lavish rooms, now devoid of life. An unsettling aura of gloom clung to the magnificent architecture, a haunting ambiance that seemed to seep through the rest of the city of Italica.

The city had begun to take shape into what the Coalition had envisioned, but its true vitality was yet to be restored as it was still deserted by its inhabitants, currently populated mostly by Coalition workers. The few locals who made contact with the city were mostly traveling merchants, trading their gold and intriguing intel on the regions for some of the strange trinkets of the wasteland.

Almost anything the Coalition offered piqued the traders' curiosity, even a broken toy car was coveted as a mystical artifact. Firearms and similar equipment that would hinder the Coalition's campaign were obviously out of the question, especially energy weapons and electronic devices under the strict, zealous watch of the Brotherhood of Steel.

But back the palace, amidst the emptiness of it all, some traces of activity were still recorded in some parts within its walls.

Using her serpentine hair, Aurea stealthily peered around a corner before glancing back at her group, the Formal Clan handmaidens, who awaited her response. In the middle of the diverse group of humanoid creatures stood the young Countess Myui, her innocent green-blue eyes showing a mixture of confusion, concern, and a touch of sleepiness.

As the Coalition's grip on the city tightened, the group began to feel threatened for their safety, not knowing how much longer they could live in the shadows of their oppressors. What had pushed them to their breaking point, however, were the relentless nights disturbed by the uproar from the tavern and the rowdy NCR soldiers outside the palace. Their loud laughter and incomprehensible banters echoing in the depths of the night, almost like taunts and mockery to the hapless natives.

The head maid's heart ached at the thought of leaving the palace and the city in the hands of these monsters, but the safety of her maids and the countess outweighed all else. She had arranged with someone outside the palace to get them to safety, hopefully towards the JSDF base, all they had to do was get there.

"It seems we've got a clear path ahead," the young Medusa murmured, signaling the group to advance. For some reason, the NCR patrols inside the palace were surprisingly sparse, leaving the maids to sneak through the corridors seemingly undisturbed.

Their steady progress brought them closer to the palace's entrance, the scent of freedom almost tangible in the air. Unfortunately, their escape plan hit an unexpected snag as a critical obstacle blocked them from the outer doors.

Two NCR soldiers sat in the lounge overlooking the entrance, relaxing on the luxurious couches, their muddy boots and feet posed on the silk fabric. The expensive furniture around them was stained with coffee marks, cigarette burns, and spilled alcohol. In fact, they didn't seem much like guards, dividing their time between playing cards and discussing topics of extreme intellect.

"All I'm saying is, what's the difference if the girl has cat ears or wings? As long as she looks mostly human, and especially if she's smoking hot."

"That's like asking if it's okay to fuck a Centaur just because one of its head reminds you of a broad or something like that. Actually, don't answer that."

The group of maids were stuck, exchanging worried glances. The entrance was their only way out, as other alternatives had either been blocked by the NCR or deemed too risky.

"What are we going to do?" one of the maids asked, a look of terror and stress evident in her frowned eyes which resonated among the others.

It seemed that their plan had finally failed, but Lady Kaine had one last solution. Though she hesitated to resort to such desperate measure, she had no choice if she wanted to secure their freedom, even if it meant sacrificing her own.

"Girls, you stay here…"

With a tense flicker in her eyes, the head maid stepped towards the guards, ignoring the protests of the maids who begged her not to risk their lives as her determined conviction narrowed her focus on her goal.

Lady Kaine stealthily approached the two soldiers, slowly pulling out a kitchen knife from underneath her apron. Her nervousness grew as she approached them. She was a woman of the military, hardened by decades of war, she knew how to defend herself, but she had never tried to intentionally kill anyone.

Drops of sweat began to soak her wrinkled forehead, the grip on her weapon began to fidget, her breathing grew heavier and her heart beat faster. Every step she took felt like an insurmountable mental challenge, but the interests of her maids and the countess were what drove her on.

She inched closer to the unsuspecting soldiers, their backs turned to her and their exposed necks within reach, a single swift cut enough to take them both out. The tension made her feel as if her heart would burst from her chest, her age hindered her ability to withstand so much strain, so she decided to take a moment to gather her courage.

Then, out of nowhere, one of the soldiers unexpectedly turned around and caught her in the act. The woman froze in horror as she looked into the eyes of the man who was frowning at her in confusion, soon his colleague also turned and stared at the woman.

A cold breeze swept through the room as an eerie silence was shared by all the actors of the scene, all of them frozen, unsure how to react.

"..."

"Oh, our apologies, ma'am. Did we wake you up or something?"

"U-uh?" Lady Kaine muttered, her eyes wide open at the unexpected reaction of one of the soldiers, the man's tone was normal, almost apologetic, looking at her as if he hadn't been surprised by her presence at all.

"I think it is best if we leave for the night," the man said to his colleague, "I will also give the words to the groups outside to calm down. Once again, we are sorry for bothering you. Have a good night."

The soldiers promptly rose from their positions and headed toward the entrance, bowing apologetically as they passed by the old woman, leaving her stunned and speechless. Inadvertently, she dropped her knife just after they left the building, her mouth still agape after the unexpectedly baffling scene.

---

[2321 hours, Lucky 38 Cocktail Lounge, Mojave Wasteland, Wasteland]

After the fiasco at the Tops, the Courier and Pina decided to continue the night away from the clamor and bustle of the Strip at the heights of Lucky 38.

As they stepped into the cocktail lounge, a soothing atmosphere embraced them. The room was bathed in a nighttime darkness, softly illuminated by the warm glow of neon lights, table lamps, and the faint light pollution from the ground below. A well-deserved respite after the eventful day, silence, and serenity, punctuated only by the occasional clink of glass from the Courier overseeing the bar.

"I think it would be best if we start with something we are both familiar with, wine." the Courier suggested, pouring a freshly uncorked 2055 'Château Lafayette' into the princess's glass, curious to taste the alcohol of this world.

However, fresh seemed to be an overstatement, as the woman's nose wrinkled in disgust at the inhalation of the rancid scent coming from the concoction. Brushing it off as another quirk of this world, she took a cautious sip, but it resulted in a strangled sound in her throat as if she were choking. After such poor experience, Pina simply pushed the wine glass away slightly. "I don't mean to sound rude, but this wine tastes like it's been sitting in a dusty drawer for two hundred years."

"It has." The Courier declared, drinking from his own glass, not only untroubled by the supposed bad taste, but actually shocked by the princess's aversion to one of the most refined and flavorful beverages in the Mojave.

The Courier could not be blamed for his poor sense of taste. His taste buds had long been corroded by years of toxic food, knife cuts, bottles of Nuka-Cola Quantum, and gallons of Radaway. Furthermore, both the ingredients and the tools to make Old World alcohol had long since been lost, forcing the wastelande to congregate on what remained in cupboards and cellars to quench their alcohol addiction. To the point where it had become a secondary currency in places like the Hub, alongside water.

Pina, on the other hand, was different. Her royal status afforded her the opportunity to be pampered with the finest wine in her world, and not only that, the continent of Falmart had a long and rich history of viticulture that even predated the Empire by millennia.

"One day, if you visit the Imperial Capital, you should have a taste." Pina offered with a smile, eliciting a lighthearted grin from the Courier.

"Will it be in shackles or not?" he replied jokingly, this time the princess actually laughed at his joke.

She eventually started to warm to the Courier's quip, even going as far to indulge into some self-deprecating humor. "Enough attempts at wooing my aristocratic palate! How about you surprise me with something else? Something with more punch?" Pina asked, leaning her cheek on her hand, genuinely intrigued to see what else the Courier had to offer.

"Sure, lessee…" The Courier crouched down to the cupboards at his feet, sifting through a plethora of bottles, each of varying shapes and sizes. What the wasteland lacked in recreating old favorites, it made up for in its creativity in creating entirely new peculiar concoctions, from lead champagne to Tato vodka, all with varying degrees of success and mortality.

Deeming a Sierra Madre martini too harsh for a rite of passage, and moonshine downright disgusting even by his standards, the Courier finally settled on a classic of wasteland spirits.

"Scotch. Can't go wrong with that," the Courier said as he opened a bottle and poured some into shot glasses.

"Cheers!"

The two clinked their glasses and downed them in one fell swoop, this time Pina didn't retreat. The Courier was quite impressed by the woman's alcohol tolerance, as she slammed her drink down unhindered, not even a faint groan or a wince. "Damn! I never thought a princess like you could handle alcohol so easily!" he remarked.

"Come on! I've been in taverns for years! Spent most of my time there with the Rose-Order of Knights!"

The Courier frowned, doing the math in his head. "Wait, wouldn't you be too young to drink then?"

"What do you mean?"

The Courier stood stunned for a moment at the confused stare on the princess' face. He soon realized that he was about to delve into a lengthy and tiresome debate about underage drinking, a subject he was neither innocent of nor interested in, so he decided not to pursue it any further.

Afterward, the two shared a moment of silence, enjoying the outside scenery. Pina watched with hypnosis the colorful play of lights projected onto the balcony, a few flickers of which painted her face in different shades.

Apart from the wine, this world was nothing but marvelous, the last few days had been nothing short of extraordinary and enlightening. Technology and knowledge so advanced that Pina and her kin still lived in the darkest ages compared to them, some of it were still difficult for her to fully comprehend.

Rising from the ashes of their predecessors' demise, from the lowest point an intelligent species could stoop. These individuals accomplished the unthinkable by rebuilding themselves into not only a stable and prosperous civilization, but a nation of formidable power, capable of overcoming otherworldly nations immaculate from even a small fraction of comparable catastrophes.

Perhaps it was their close experience with total annihilation that gave them such a strong will to withstand not only the might of an entire continent, but also the forces of an alien world tenfold stronger than said continent.

The realization caused Pina's initially cheerful tone to turn depressed. She was and always would be loyal to the Imperial Throne, but she was no dupe. From everything she had witnessed and experienced, the Empire stood no chance against the mammoth strength of the West Coast Coalition, even with the help of the JSDF, who she suspected would suffer the same ignominious defeat if they continued their fight against the Coalition.

Pina turned to the Courier, her depressed look still lingering. "Courier… let's say supposedly, supposedly, if the Coalition and the Empire came to an… accord. What would that mean for my people? What is your end goal?"

The Courier paused before answering Pina's query, his expression turning serious. "I'll be honest with you, Princess. Your world is a lush landscape brimming with valuable and untapped natural resources, and as you can see, ours is a dead, dried, and uninhabitable hellscape…"

The Courier didn't need to beat around the bush, the reasons for conquering her realm were evident, even the Japanese were guilty of that, no matter how noble they try to portray their actions.

"But it is not what you think. We are in dire need, yes, but the nightmare of conquering an entire continent and establishing a new government is not in our plan. We seek to cooperate with your people and offer a way to support each other in any meaningful way…"

"Wh-What?"

"At least that's what I'm trying to work out, and while I know some people don't see it the same way, I'm not going to back down. We were almost wiped out, it is only normal that we try not to repeat the mistakes of our ancestors and preserve life as much as possible."

It had become a habit that the Courier's fiery declarations struck Pina with a deluge of astonishment. She simply did not understand. Their powers were far superior to theirs in every shape or form, they could wipe out any sign of an empire that ever existed in Falmart in a laughably short amount of time. And despite the supposed difficulties afterward, she was confident that the Courier was just downplaying the fact that the Coalition would eventually find a solution to their problem of governance.

With all these things considered, why would they even bother with peace?

In spite of all the suffering and misery these people had been through, it was admiring to see some of them remained steadfast in their resolve. Ironically, those who came from a literal underworld turned out to be the greatest of saints.

And the Courier was a living testament to this, a symbol of righteousness in a world that desperately needed one. A sense of unrelenting conviction in what he believed in, despite his supposed ambiguous morals. If the man had been a native of her world, his commanding air and charisma would have already propelled him up to the highest of ranks. And a prime choice of husband in her father's opinion… not like she would mind at all.

A sincerely beautiful smile formed on Pina's red lips, her cheeks flushed from either the alcohol or the butterflies in her stomach. Her slender, smooth fingers crept slowly toward the Courier's rough hand on the table until they intertwined with his, taking the man by surprise.

"Thank you for showing me around, Courier, for saving my life, for everything…" she whispered, her eyes glancing around nervously. Before finally gathering the courage to meet the gaze of the Courier, her red-wine irises peered deeply into the deep brown eyere of the man with whom she had unexpectedly spent the most joyful time in a while.

The Courier just stood there, stunned by the sheer beauty in front of him, unable to remember the last time such affection had been shown to him, let alone the strange feelings that surged through him.

He had to admit that even though this excursion was mostly out of goodwill to show the woman around, it also brought him great joy. The princess, despite her inexperience in the Mojave Wasteland, felt like a breath of fresh air to the Courier's usual acquaintances, a feeling even his own old companions could not provide. He hadn't felt such excitement visiting the Strip since his first arrival... and probably that one time he spent the night with Vault 21's manager.

"Heh, don't mention it, it's been a pleasure to share these few days with you, Princess Pina…" he replied, regaining his composure and displaying a smile of parallel amplitude to Pina's.

And so the night went on and the two continued to talk and drink merrily with each other, deeply appreciative of each other's company.

---

[0123 hours, West Coast Coalition headquarters, Empire, Special Region]

"I swear to the gods, if one of those despicable mongrels grazes my bosom again, I'll-"

"Please, let us remain calm. We cannot afford to act rashly and risk jeopardizing our mission, especially when we are so close to achieving our goal…" Bozes intervened, her calm demeanor attempting to quell her companion's mounting anger as the two women found themselves trapped between the lecherous clutches of two inebriated soldiers.

Having successfully infiltrated the Sand Demons' lair through the convoy's escort, Bozes and her crew of female knights were forcibly dragged into what could only be described as a wretched tavern. This is were they have spent most of the day captive in the repulsive company of the soldiers and restrained from looking for Princess Pina.

The air was thick with the stench of cheap liquor and even cheaper cigarettes, accompanied by an ensemble of raucous laughter and loud music reverberating off the grimy walls. As night fell and alcohol consumption reached its paradigm, the chains of sobriety that held the soldiers in check broke to unleash a horde of repugnant and disgraceful beings.

With their nauseatingly grinning faces, their flushed cheeks, and their incomprehensible slurred words, the soldiers felt no shame in forcing themselves into the women's personal spaces. Their hands venturing where they had no right to be and their advances growing bolder and bolder. It was as if these simians had never beheld nor encountered women of such untainted beauty, a likely explanation for throwing such a chaotic festivity for them.

The poor female knights had no choice but to suffer the abuse and humiliation, their utter contempt and disgust for the vile, repulsive creatures hidden behind a veil of forced smiles, feigned giggles, and playful banter. They somehow found a surprising ease in masquerading into the debauched harlots these men believed them to be.

The experience was the most degrading for Bozes, her ego taking yet another embarrassing blow. Despite the fact that she had been well-trained in the art of courtship within the Imperial nobility, an art forced upon her by her father in the hopes of securing a powerful alliance within the royal hierarchy. Never had she fathomed that she would employ these skills against such repugnant and despicable individuals. Luckily for these villains, none of them attempted anything more thann physical touch, otherwise her restraint to cut off someone's hand would have been tested.

Suppressing her revulsion towards the man drooling on her shoulder, Bozes kept a vigilant eye on the tightly shut exit door, poised to act at a moment's notice. Suddenly, a man with a burning urge to pee abruptly rose and stumbled towards the exit, inadvertently leaving the door ajar in his wake.

Bozes seized the opportunity, "This is our chance. You two come with me, the rest of you stay here and keep those chimps distracted."

The female knights promptly rose from their seats and slipped away, the men around them too intoxicated to register their departure with their attention wholly captivated by the remaining women. A visible sense of distress and discomfort marred the women's faces at the sudden overwhelming number of drunken soldiers looming threateningly close, but they stood steadfast, willing to endure anything for the success of the mission.

As Bozes and the two knights managed to sneak out of the tavern, they found themselves in the heart of the formidable fortress. The base, much grander and imposing than it appeared from the outside, resembled more of a sprawling city than a mere military outpost. The base was aglow with bright lights, turning the night as bright as day. The hundreds of human soldiers that once roamed the base during the day were mostly replaced by strange creatures and golems of metal that patrolled the area, their sharp red gazes scanning their surroundings with deadly precision.

Despite the daunting security measures, the determined women pressed on in their mission to rescue the princess. Following the intel that Bozes had managed to slip out from a drunken soldier earlier, the group skulked their way around the base, seeking refuge in the rare pockets of darkness, learning the patrol patterns and evading detection.

As they progressed, they caught a glimpse of the high cages that held the armies of men in green and the Empire. Despite the shroud of darkness, their miserable state was painfully evident, mixed together like cattle, sleeping in the open air of the cold night. Most of them were unable to even close their eyes due to the cramped, uncomfortable space in which they slept.

A pang of pity washed over the women at the sight of their compatriots. While the idea of freeing them and causing chaos as a distraction within the base crossed their minds, they simply could not risk it. Their one and only goal was to free the princess, and it would cause unnecessary casualties, so they moved on.

Soon after, they finally stopped around a corner, their destination in sight, a building that looked like the others except for the barred windows and the murky atmosphere it exuded. This had to be the place where they were holding Princess Pina.

As expected, two guards stood in the entrance, looking rather tired but still an obstacle for the women. Bozes huddled with the two female knights and whispered her strategy. "Stay here until I give the signal."

The two women nodded with determination, the blonde took a moment to gather her courage and finally came out of hiding. In the blink of an eye, her tense and severe expression transformed into one of bewildered innocence. Her blonde locks added to her air headed appearance as she deliberately stumbled toward the guards, her conspicuous demeanor and brightly colored skimpy outfit making her stand out like a sore thumb in the middle of the darkness.

"Stop! Where do you think you're going?" one of the two guards barked, his hands clutching his weapon. The woman babbled in her native tongue as she approached, deliberately trying to sound as incomprehensible as possible.

"Dang! Can't understand shit she's saying," the soldier remarked, turning to his comrade. "She must be one of those broads the guys brought here. You stay here, I'll take her ba-agh!"

Before he could finish his sentence, a steel dagger pierced his jugular and slit his throat wide open. The same fate befell the other guard, as the two female knights dispatched them silently in the same motion as Bozes tried to open the door.

Unfortunately, the door wouldn't budge, probably locked on the other side. Their only solution seemed to be to lure whoever was on the other side of the door into opening it for them, but how?

Suddenly, an idea flashed through the blonde knight's mind. "You two! Help me lift one of these men!" She knocked on the door and heard the footsteps of someone approaching the door and then stopping.

"Hey, is everything okay? Heard some noises outside." the guard behind the door asked.

No response. Perplexed, the guard slid open the peephole and peered through, catching a glimpse of one of the guards standing. But seconds later, the man crumpled to the ground, seemingly unconscious. On high alert, the soldier quickly fumbled for his keys and opened the door, but just as the door was slightly ajar, it was violently thrust toward him, smashing into his face and sending him sprawling to the ground. Before he could comprehend what happened, a dagger found its way into his carotid artery.

Bozes quickly pulled her dagger from the man as the two female knights stepped forward, closing the door behind them and dragging the lifeless bodies inside. Surprisingly, the interior appeared devoid of guards and prisoners, a suspicious detail that didn't deter them from continuing their search.

Empty cell after empty cell, Bozes grew increasingly doubtful about finding the princess here. Almost having the horrible notion that Pina might have been discarded after her usefulness had run out. Her thoughts were abruptly interrupted when she heard the sounds of a scuffle coming from behind her, she turned around and saw something she couldn't believe her eyes.

One of the female knights, her very own companion in whom she had placed unwavering trust, had seized the other woman, plunging a dagger deep into her heart while muffling her screams.

"Wha-What are you doing?!" Bozes finally said after a moment of speechlessness, a look of utter confusion on her face.

"I'm sorry…" the other woman replied in a tone devoid of remorse, releasing the lifeless body from her grip. "But for the good of the Empire, Princess Pina must die…"

Bozes could not fathom what she just heard, the woman in front of her was a traitor, sent to kill the princess they all swore undying loyalty to. The blonde felt the unbridled anger she had held in for so long beginning to boil. After going through so many hardships and, most importantly, suffering countless humiliations to get this far… she was not going to let this woman jeopardize this mission.

She was not going to let her touch a single strand of Pina's hair...

She was not going to let her get one step out of here alive.

Drenched in fury, Bozes lunged at the woman, abandoning any semblance of stealth as she screamed with murderous rage, her dagger poised for the kill. The unknown woman was nimble and cunning, effortlessly evading the blonde's initial attacks, a testament to her assassin's skills. Yet, Bozes proved relentless, her ceaseless assault eventually wearing down her opponent. The woman barely had time to react as she blocked the blonde's attack and countered by violently slamming her head against the metal bars of a nearby cell.

But that did not deter Bozes one bit. Her rage blinded her to pain and reason, her fiery gaze fixed on her adversary as a trickle of blood coursed down her own face, from the wide gash etched within her golden locks. The assassin felt nervous, almost frightened, at the display of such savage fury.

Once more, Bozes lunged, toppling her assailant and disarming her. The two women wrestled on the grimy prison floor, creating a cloud of dust that cloaked their struggle. Eventually, Bozes gained the upper hand, standing triumphantly above her opponent, her dagger pressing against her defeated foe. Despite the woman's desperate resistance, she couldn't match Bozes' sheer strength, her feeble attempts to keep the blade at bay futile.

The dagger slowly entered the woman's throat, the grisly sound of blood gushing from the exposed arteries mixed with the woman's gurgles. Terror consumed the assassin's features as she experienced the indescribable agony of the blade rending her flesh, her screams only silenced by the blood slowly filling her mouth, spilling onto the ground.

The traitorous knight finally passed away, leaving Bozes to release a relieved sigh. The tide of anger receded, replaced by exhaustion as the aftermath of the violent struggle settled upon her senses. However, her triumph was short-lived as she was startled by a blinding flash of light, followed by the sudden appearance of a dozen soldiers circling around her, weapons pointed at her.

"Hands up! Stop right there!"

Before she could even attempt to retaliate, two of the soldiers violently subdued her before one of them violently knocked her out with the butt of his gun. The two then dragged the woman away, her and the other's fate shrouded in mystery.