Primm and Proper

Standing over the remains of the now lifeless Powder Gangers; Lucas took a deep breath before reaching into Joe Cobb's pockets. In doing so the courier found a folded up note. Before he could examine its contents he felt a pat on his back.

"I cannot begin to thank you enough for all your help. I'd offer you caps but all I have on me is owed to the Crimson Caravan Company."

It was Ringo.

"If you by chance find me at Crimson Caravan headquarters - due east of Vegas - I should have payment for you."

"Don't sweat it, man," Lucas responded with a smile, "I was indepted to the town so it was only right for me to assist."

"I must insist! It was my fault Joe Cobb attacked Goodsprings in the first place!"

"Well, if you insist, if I find my way there then I will make it a point to stop by."

Lucas bid his farewells to the rest of the townsfolk and began his walk south. He needed to get to Primm to report the loss of the package he was supposed to deliver; the platinum chip. On the outskirts of Goodsprings he spotted a man posted up against a dilapidated shack. Curiously, Lucas made his way over.

"Can I help you?" the man inquired. He was dressed in light leather armor and wore a worn out cowboy hat.

"I was just curious as to why you're perched right here."

"I'm just resting all. I'm a merchant heading towards McCarran. I've got some deliveries to make in the area."

Lucas could tell this man was lying through his teeth. If he was truly a merchant , he'd have at least one pack brahmin and a couple gunmen in tow.

"You're a traveling merchant? Curious, you don't have a pack brahmin with you."

"Oh, um, you see I-," the "merchant stammered.

"Why don't you tell me why you're REALLY here?"

Letting out a sigh, the stranger, let his once crossed arms fall to his sides.

"See, I'm hunting down this group of escaped convicts from the prison just east of here. They call themselves 'Powder Gangers. I'm a bounty hunter."

"There's a bounty out on Powder Gangers?"

"Well, sort of. You see the NCR is looking to round up any left out in the wastes. They've become a hazard to travelers along the highways from the Long 15 to the outer Vegas region."

"I see. Maybe I'll stop by this prison and round some up myself."

"Ha! I wouldn't even dare to try that. Unless you've got a death wish. However, I'm gonna stay right where I'm at."

The courier nodded and resumed his route to Primm. Although, he caught a glimpse of a trailer nestled in the hillside. Lucas investigated and to his surprise; he found a copy of the 'Wasteland Survival Guide.' This caused him to stop and reminsice about his time helping Moira Brown with her research on it. Quickly, he set it in his standard, pre-war, Army issue rucksack and continued onward.

Save for a few bloatflies and geckos the rest of the trip was uneventful. Mindlessly, Lucas continued until he reached a fork in the road until a voice stopped him out of his trance.

"Hey you! What business do you have in Primm?" an NCR trooper called to him.

"I'm here on behalf of the Mojave Express. I had a package stolen from me."

"Unfortunately, the town is off limits. A gang of escaped convicts have effectively taken over the town. Everyone's cooped up in the Vikki Vance casino.

"I appreciate the warning - but I can handle myself."

Lucas finally reached the Mojave Express HQ and saw a corpse slumped out front. He checked the male corpse and found he had a similar invoice as himself. Entering the building he announced himself.

"Hello, I'm a courier with the Moj- oh that's right, the trooper mentioned that everyone is hiding in a the casino."

Turning to leave his eyes gazed upon a broken Enclave eyebot. The same kind he saw flying around the Capital Wasteland blaring Enclave propaganda. Initially, he mentally discarded it but had a sudden change of heart.

"Hmm, you might be worth something if I fix ya."

It took about 17 minutes but after reattaching missing pieces and loose wires the eyebot shot up from the table it sat upon.

"@$%*@"

"Um, companion protocol begin?"

ED-E beeped affirmatively.

"Would you happen to have a name?"

"Test subject dedicated: ED-E ."

"ED-E, eh? Alright, come with me."

The courier was not expecting to have his brains nearly splattered on the wall as soon as he went outside.

Quickly, he ducked behind a trash can while and took aim but before he knew it; ED-E had reduced two convicts to piles of ash.

"Well damn, ED-E! You sure saved my ass!"

ED-E beeped happily.

"Let's check out the Vikki Vance casino. C'mon."

Eyebot and courier entered the casino and immediately all weapons were fixated on them. An older gentleman stepped forward.

"What business do you have here in Primm, youngster?," the older man drawled.

"I'm a courier with the Mojave Express and the package I was tasked to deliver was stolen from me.," Matthews elaborated and handed over the invoice.

"Ah, it's one of these deliveries. They had strange written all over 'em.," the older man stated, "the name's Johnson Nash I run the local Mojave Express. I also see you got that old heap of scrap up and running again. I'd suggest taking him over to the Gibson Scrapyard. Perhaps you can sell him for a few hundred caps."

ED-E beeped nervously at the latter comment.

"Lucas Matthews, it's a pleasure to meet you, sir. May I ask what was strange about my delivery?"

"First off a cowboy robot requested the deliveries to the northern gate to the Strip. Secondly, each package contained a random knick-knack. Lastly, you were the secondary choice for your specific package. The first guy refused the job.

A puzzled yet inquisitive look swept over Lucas's face.

"A robot cowboy requested these? Like the one behind you?"

"No. It was more like a giant television."

"Victor.," Lucas thought privately, "may I ask about the person who was supposed to make my delivery?"

"For starters he seemed... perturbed from seeing your name and simply told me to 'let courier six take it.' and mumbled something about you guys having history together. For what it's worth I hope the sands of the Divide skin him alive.

Pondering these bombshells of information; Lucas vaguely recalled hearing about a place called 'the Divide.' However, he brushed those thoughts off for now.

"Well, anyway, is there anyway I could help Primm?"

Mr. Nash told the Courier about their missing deputy being held captive inside the hotel across the street. Without missing a beat courier and companion made their way to the Bison Steve.