Being a faunus had its quirks.

Low-light vision was a natural trait but sensitive hearing was one of the more identifiable features that set them apart from humans and other faunus. With two extra furry appendages, soft snores and shearing desert winds resonated far louder than they needed to be. Having dragged themselves out of the elevator, they had intended to get some fresh air only to be stopped by the weather. At that point, exhaustion took over and most everyone nodded off. Though, kept awake by the noise, Velvet glanced around until she caught a pair of weighted amber dots meeting hers in the dim anteroom.

"How're you feeling?" Blake asked her.

"Better," she answered with wince.

"Hey, don't push yourself."

"I know, I know. What about you? Can't sleep?"

"Not with the noise outside. The sandstorms out here are pretty...terrifying."

"I guess that makes the two of us."

The cat faunus huddled over, toeing past the sleeping forms of her teammates. Blake barely knew Velvet and that showed when she took a moment to gather her words. "So... Did you hear...?"

Velvet nodded. "This is more than just politics. I think it's personal."

"Should've been pretty obvious from the start, huh."

"Not that anything should be obvious when there are secrets that can kill." The rabbit faunus sighed. "I don't know if I should tell you..."

"Tell me what?"

"He..." Velvet bit her lip. No matter how hard she tried to forget what she heard that night, the random ramblings of a drunken old man turned out to be clues to a life story that was turning tragic the more she connected the dots. "He knows, or knew, a lot of people. Some of them, he...fought alongside with for a time, I guess? As far as I can tell, he used to have...a family, I think. Something about being...a father or something. I can't really say."

Blake pulled her knees close to her chest. "You think so? Huh. Um, I guess I should let you know then. The NCR gave us a full dossier on him before we headed here."

The Beacon sophomore straightened against the wall despite her broken ribs. "What did they say?"

"Most of it was redacted but there a lot of details left out. War hero, protector. Had a decorated career. Then he...he changed somehow and...things went differently from there. The files were meticulous about what he looked like, his usual gear, what he usually does, and all the things he's done. Not once in those documents though..." The cat faunus paused. "I think we weren't told everything now that you mention it."

"You mean they didn't redact enough information."

Blake shrugged. "Either that or they actually didn't know. They never mentioned...him having familial ties to anyone."

"Friends? Subordinates?"

"'Working associates,' they said. A lot of them...aren't active anymore. His old associates, I mean. Up until three years ago, he was the head of this...group. They were called the 'Vegas Nine.'"

Velvet tilted her head. "I've heard. Who exactly were they?"

"A mixed group, really. There was a caravan merchant, a doctor, and a scribe of all people." Blake shook her head, her eyes glossed over as she recalled the details that she memorized from the papers they had vigorously pored through back in New Vegas. "He cobbled together a team and led them on operations. They wandered with him, they fought side by side... Then there was a falling out or something shortly before the Second Battle of Hoover Dam."

"... Second Battle of Hoover Dam?"

"Oh, right. Yeah. There was this big battle over the dam which supplies much of the electrical output in the whole region. Probably even up to the western coast of this continent."

"And the Vegas Nine...was involved?"

"From the build-up all the way to fighting in the battle itself. And when the dust settled, they...broke apart."

The rabbit faunus raised her brow. "Dramatic fallout?"

A sigh. "I wouldn't assume."

Velvet hummed. "You mentioned caravan merchant. Did that merchant, by chance, go by the name of Cassidy?"

Blake eyed her. "Rose of Sharon Cassidy. Have you...heard of her?"

"I...when I ended up here, I...I was taken in by this merchant caravan. They were running supplies up to communities in the ruins east of the Strip. Their boss was in the NCR. Rose of Sharon Cassidy, head of Cassidy Caravans."

"Huh. Talk about coincidence."

"Lucky me, I guess. They took me in and were, sort of, understanding. But they did help me out. Helped me get used to this...Wasteland. Vegas Nine, Miss Cassidy, I heard it from them."

"What else did you hear?"

A sigh. "A lot more than I needed to..."

It had been several long minutes until they heard the elevator working. Followed by heavy footsteps echoing from the depths of the facility, getting closer and stopping short of the anteroom.

"What the hell are you kids still doing here?"

"Resting," Blake replied dryly.

Velvet tried to meet Six's glare with her own only to grimace at the agonizing pangs suddenly shooting up from her midriff.

"Easy there, Bunny-girl."

She scoffed through clenched teeth. "Oh, I'll just be dandy, Major."

"Bones heal. Your Aura should help with that, I guess." The Courier stared pointedly at her. "Raul let you go, didn't he."

The rabbit faunus bit her lip. He didn't seem angry. Rather mildly annoyed? "Y-yes. He th-thought it best if I followed you and made sure you, um, didn't mess up or something."

He exhaled. "Of course, he did."

"Raul cares about you, Six," Blake interjected. "So do we."

"Do you, now?"

Her glare fell. "I don't trust the NCR but they've gotten a lot of things right. And I hated that. I hated that they were right! I hated that you have almost no remorse for it all."

"Why're you even bothering?"

"Six—Theodore, please. Some of us are really confused. And really frustrated. But we're all concerned. For you. For your sanity. Seeing you lose yourself like this isn't healthy for us, too." Her voice dropped to a whisper. "Are things really that bad here that you have to go this far?"

"Ain't it obvious?" The Courier scowled deeper. "There are reasons for how things are. And reasons for why you came all the way out here, don't you think."

Velvet saw Blake shrink under his withering glare. Come to think of it, why did teams RWBY and JNPR trek to such a dangerous place anyway? They never did have the time to discuss that.

"Blake."

Blake yelped. Her normally stoic demeanor had shattered to pieces with her rubbing her arm and trying to avert her gaze from him. She lasted three seconds.

"The NCR was worried that Samson was a secret weapon that might be used against them," she stammered. "They asked us to investigate and...shut it down."

Velvet flinched when she heard the man's heavyset boots thud against the metal floor. The cat faunus fidgeted with her thumbs before continuing.

"Weiss and I have been...studying your history, Six. No offense. We wanted to know more about you but you were so aloof. Either you were too drunk to have a reasonable conservation with or you were off somewhere doing things that you never tell us. We ended up worried, especially Ruby. So we had to ask...others. What we learned... None of us wanted to believe any of it. I didn't want to believe that you could do something like, well, this."

"And Hyper wanted you to jump in because she thought it would 'help' both me and everyone else," the Courier finished with arms folded.

Blake nodded sheepishly. "You can't blame Ruby for being an altruist."

"Uh-huh. Her being stupidly helpful overrides all common sense then. So even though you knew better to keep your nose out of my business, you agreed."

"I...won't deny that."

The pause that followed was constricting. Velvet glanced between the two, worried about the Courier's current mental state. He had this foggy gaze that lingered over them. Silent contemplation perhaps? Or maybe an argument going on his head? It looked like any wrong word might set him off.

So it came as a surprise when he kneeled in front of the freshman and calmly said, "I guess this is all on me then. Listen, kid, I have my issues. And I admit I let my demons get the best of me. Maybe someday we can have another reasonable...meaningful conversation."

"Like when you were hungover that one time?"

"Yeah, like that one time." Six flicked her feline ears. "Blake, you and your buddies are a bunch of fucking idiots. But you're my idiots. And 'fore you get your jimmies in a knot, I'll patch things up with Pancake over there."

Blake smiled warmly. "That'd be nice."

"Don't hug me, though. Seriously, don't hug me."

She nodded and pressed herself back against the wall. "Understood."

"Get some rest, you two. It's way past your bedtime."

She raised a brow. "Have you even had any sleep?"

He waved her off. "Don't worry about me."

"Are you sure about that?" Velvet piped. "I mean, we did have a scuffle."

"I have my quirks."

"You tracked us halfway across the Mojave, killed several soldiers, and even beat us at our best. You look like you haven't slept for the past three days," Blake highlighted. "You have some interesting 'quirks.''"

"Some secrets are best left unsaid."

"Unless you're intoxicated," Velvet interjected. She smirked at the brief stroke of panic that flashed in his eyes. "I can keep a secret. Or ten."

"We're going to have a long chat about that, Bunny-girl."

The older faunus huffed and shook her head. She was too exhausted to argue, after all. Besides, her Aura was coming back and slowly mending her broken ribs. Though not necessarily regenerating shattered bones, it would make it easier for treatment from a licensed physician. Come to think of it, there was a competent doctor in Goodsprings.

"Do we remind you of anyone?" Blake suddenly queried.

Velvet looked to the Courier. His body language betrayed his poker face. Leave it to Miss Belladonna to prod for more answers, not that she could blame her.

"A few certain individuals, yeah."

The sophomore met Blake's uneasy glance. She shrugged. Curiosity killed the cat, as the saying goes. Perhaps this would be a tender moment.

Feeling slightly reassured, the cat faunus took another deep breath. "Yang's kind of like Veronica, isn't she?"

Six leaned against the wall and chuckled. "Yeah. Except Vee hates drinking, doesn't use puns, and is as snarky as you are."

"Amazing how no one else has woken up to this conversation," Velvet muttered. Were they conversing that softly or were the others just that tired? Or maybe it was just her sensitive sense of hearing? Then again, the sandstorm outside was rather lulling in an off-putting way.

A prideful grin slowly formed over his unkempt chin. "She's more like Hyper and Blondie rolled into one: can pound someone three times her size while going on about the parts of a rocket launcher."

"Sounds like a handful."

"Yeah. Witty, snarky... Directionless... Not as crass as Cass though."

The rabbit faunus raised a brow. Cass? As in Miss Cassidy? Now she was interested.

"Rose of Sharon Cassidy, right? Head of Cassidy Caravans?"

With snappy traders and skilled guards more amiable and open-minded than most in the Wasteland, Velvet did not add.

"Mm-hmm," he hummed. "And you're sort of like Boone. Well, you and Shaolin are sort of like Boone. Only neither of you served and even if you did, you don't mope about it."

"What about Arcade?"

The Courier exhaled as he focused his full attention to the curious girls. "I know where this is going, Kit. You too, Cottontail. I can see it on your face."

Blake raised a brow while Velvet scowled. "Are those our new monickers now?"

"Y'know what? Since most of these brats are out cold, how about a little exchange?" Major Vickers smirked, most probably at their apprehension to whatever bone he was going to throw at them. He proceeded to list off the fingers on his right hand. "Veronica hates my guts, Cass won't talk to me, and Boone would rather pretend I'm dead. Hell, I'm surprised Raul hasn't ditched me yet. Not to mention Arcade, the poor bastard."

"Vegas Nine?" mouthed the rabbit faunus.

"Heh," he snorted, digging into his satchel and pulling out a roll of tobacco leaves that he rolled up and started chewing. "What a name..."

"Brotherhood scribe, caravaneer, sniper, and doctor," listed Blake. "What a team. What happened?"

"Shit happened. Besides, there other things that...can't say they were out of our hands...out of their hands, more on mine. Now, on other hand, what about Mister Adam Taurus?" He simpered at the discomfort that froze up the cat faunus. "And whoever this Coco is."

Velvet felt her ears droop. "This is going to be a long night."

Hours later, Velvet was shaken awake by Weiss.

"Good morning, Velvet. How are you feeling?"

"Better," she groggily replied. "Still hurts to breathe though."

The heiress grimaced at that but still tacked on a comforting mien. "At least you're feeling well."

The rabbit faunus strained to see past her silhouette. The bright orange sun peeked over the rugged horizon to shine into the now open antechamber, blaring right into her eyes. "Ugh, what time is it?"

"Just past dawn."

Across from her, Blake stretched her arms and tried to ignore Yang's best attempts to coax her off the floor. Velvet yawned and nearly nodded off again.

"Velvet, have you been awake all night?"

"No. Just couldn't sleep. Did sleep for a few hours, I think..."

"A few hours? Then again, with your hearing, I could imagine it difficult to rest with the weather being what it was. Hmm. That might explain..."

Velvet pushed herself up to sit. "Hmm? Explain what?"

Weiss shook her head. "Nothing."

The sophomore nudged the heiress aside so she could see the towering vigil of a shadow perched on the threshold, scanning the valley with his binoculars. The man had never slept, it seemed. It could have been the tobacco leaves or something he mixed in his alcohol. Or perhaps there was something more to him...something that gave him such ridiculous endurance without the benefits of Aura or a Semblance.

Despite her worries, Velvet couldn't help but smile. Stubborn old man actually stood guard for the whole night.

Weiss sighed. "How has he not fallen over?"

She shrugged. "Quirks?"

"I suppose." The heiress slumped next to her. "Ren and Jaune woke up first and saw the hydraulic doors open. They thought we were breached so they ran outside..."

"And?"

"Major Vickers apparently set traps from the barricades in front of the door all the way down the path."

"Traps?"

"Tripwires and some buried explosives." Weiss snorted. "Jaune nearly triggered the first one and Ren had to carefully pull him out of it."

Velvet grimaced. "Wow."

"At least the buffoon didn't blow himself up."

Across from them, Ren sorted through all their rations while Nora continued to sulk in the corner, half-heartedly playing with Syrup. Ruby and Pyrrha flanked her, saying nothing but trying to think of something to cheer her up while Jaune tended to all three.

"Give me five minutes," the sophomore requested and went back to peaceful slumber before she could hear Weiss protest.

The next time she woke up, she was helped onto a makeshift stretcher despite her protests. She hated encumbering those around her so it came as a bitter pill to swallow when Jaune and Ren—wrapped in bandoliers, guns slung over their shoulders, and field kits weighing over their backs like army grunts—ended up having to carry her down the path. Her feeling of helplessness was compounded by the still air that surrounded the group as they silently followed Six through the canyon, once a city called Ashton, back to Hopeville.

Yang stood in front of the line of open graves with her hand over her face. The stench was gagging but she had to pay her respects at least. It was hard trying to get over her first (human) kills and she knew she would be drowning her troubles at the nearest bar. As far as she knew, she had to address her guilt to make the coping easier.

Six wordlessly agreed to her suggestion to stop by at the intersection where they laid to rest the remains of the Marked Men. While team JNPR-S carried Velvet inside a derelict tenement (partially out of precaution and mostly because of the smell), team RWBY crossed the street to the open graves, vultures and corvids flapping away with bits of rotting flesh in their beaks. Maggots inundated the cadavers in moving white puddles, exposed bone and rotting flesh glistening under the sunlight.

"I'm sorry," she whispered behind her palms. "I didn't mean to. We had to defend ourselves. I'm sorry for doing this to you."

Regardless of what they did in life, they were still human beings. Granted, they were tortured human beings who were in constant pain and driven mad by their agony. Yang tried to convince herself that they had gone feral—fair game when they've devolved into Grimm-like rabidity, right?—but when she heard that NCR soldier call out Six in a sentient, understandable sentence...

"They're in a better place," Ruby choked behind her tightly wrapped hanky. Optimistic baby sister, how she would give anything to have that outlook.

"They gave us no choice," Weiss added softly. "Our actions were...justified. We abided by the standard rules of engagement...if they have any."

Blake rested her hand on her partner's shoulder. "We did what we had to do, Yang."

The blonde brawler wiped her face. "I suppose so."

Nodding at her team, she turned on her heel, and followed them back to the group. How did Six get used to this? Oh, yeah. He was a war criminal. A war criminal with a skewered heart and fucked-up standards buried under a lifetime of horrors. Hard to believe and she would sometimes scoff at it. Then again, he didn't abandon them. He even had several chances to off them then and there. But he didn't. And it was for that reason she believed that they all subconsciously agreed not to leave him behind.

Yang exhaled then turned on her heels. Team RWBY returned to the tenement. When they stepped inside, they bore witness to a spectacle that made the blonde feel a bit better.

Pyrrha could imagine how pathetic she must have appeared, crying on Jaune's shoulder. While Yang mustered the resolve to face her victims head-on, the champion sat here, using her shattered ankle as an excuse to evade the remains of the two men she fatally shot. It made it slightly difficult to use her Garand, let alone touch it. How discomforting even that that gun resembled Miló's rifle form so much.

Jaune was very encouraging with his words, though most of them missed their mark. Ren had a few choice phrases, though most of them had been used futilely to gauge Nora out of her shell (and the girl herself still had to deal with the fact that she maimed a handful of others under the mistaken assumption they had Aura). Uplifting as they were, she still felt the weight of having actually taken another person's life over her conscience. She was a tournament fighter; every opponent was another individual who had a home to return to, a family that cared for them, friends who were expecting them regardless of the outcome of the duel.

The four Marked Men she killed yesterday were leagues beyond those who she had faced in battle. Tattered, flayed, and seething with pained rage. Insane with hate but intelligent enough to finely execute standard military tactics. As they had been trained to do.

Yesterday's skirmish was no duel, no sparring match, no exhibition game. It had been a struggle for survival where the outcome was irreversible. She was no murderer; she was brought up to slay Grimm and pacify troublemakers! Why did she have to feel so guilty? They fired first! She didn't mean to kill them!

Just as she was about to break into another fitful of tears, she felt Jaune's arms wrap over her head, pressing her damp cheek against the nape of his neck.

"I can't really fathom how hard this is for you. But know that this won't change who you are. I know you, you're better than whatever it is you think you turned into. You're my partner, Pyrrha. Don't beat yourself so much over this. Please. For me, for Ren, for Nora."

She beamed up at him even as fresh tears trickled down her moist cheeks. "Th-thank you, Jaune..."

As she reciprocated his embrace, she noticed his eyes suddenly dart away. She followed his wayward attention to Major Vickers who had been leaning against a concrete pillar, shoving dried tobacco leaves into his mouth. Jaune was doing his best to comfort her while dealing with his own issues. Might as well return the favor.

"Let it go, Jaune," she hoarsely pleaded.

"Let what go?"

"He didn't mean any of it."

A snort. "Oh, I'm sure he didn't."

"Jaune."

"I'm sorry, Pyr," he sighed. "You just don't say those things. Especially to Nora of all people. After what she's been through, what you've all been through..."

"He was caught up in the moment." They had detached from each other and she caught him glancing across the room. "He was angry."

"So am I."

"Jaune, please."

"If you have something to say to me, boy, say it now," echoed Six.

Pyrrha turned around. The look on the Courier's face was...not contempt. "Major—"

Jaune stood, voice cold. "Sorry for breaking Samson."

Major Vickers was...unimpressed, if Pyrrha could narrow down the proper word to describe what she was seeing.

"Don't bullshit me, kid," the man huffed. "We can talk about that fuck-up later."

"Oh, I'm sorry," the blond knight sneered. "What were you expecting me to say?"

The champion stiffened. That anger and sarcasm she had heard before when Jaune was going through a phase with Cardin. They were treading on burning coals here. She was not in the mood for an argument right now especially after having gone through her own roller-coaster of emotions.

"Not that half-assed bullshit. Go ahead. I've got the time."

Her partner's fists were white and shaking. Pyrrha made to pacify him but he stepped out of her reach. "Jaune, wait."

"I admit that we were in the wrong here. But was it really necessary to go that far?"

Six raised his chin. "It's survival. It's natural."

The leader of team JNPR-S coughed out a bitter laugh. Now Ren and Velvet were eying them, the former ready to intervene should anything go awry. "Really now. Does verbal abuse count or is that just natural to you?"

"No, that's just me."

"Is that so." Jaune was seething. "You do know Nora and Ren are orphans. Ruby and Yang lost their mothers. Weiss doesn't even have a proper father figure." Too caught up in his own tirade, he gestured at the rest of the bewildered group while keeping his glare centered fully on him. "You do know that half of us here don't have stellar childhoods. Didn't you get the memo or did we forget to tell you that story?"

The Courier straightened and made one step in his direction. Jaune flinched, causing everyone else to flinch. To his credit, the blond knight did not yield any ground despite how his nerves were starting to fail him. Pyrrha winced as she stood up, silently praying for calm.

"Boo-hoo," the man snorted. "Does that make you special?"

"Are you saying you don't care!?"

"I'm saying there are kids who've gone through far fucking worse."

Pyrrha was speechless. As was Jaune.

"Ask the next raider you find who their parents were. Either he won't remember 'em or he never had any." With that, the Courier shoulder-checked him on the way out.

He strode past Ren, past Pyrrha, towards the huddled Nora. Syrup planted itself in front of its master, baring teeth and growling. Six angled his head, nudged the beast away with his boot, and waited until the ginger girl stopped ignoring him.

"Don't hold back."

Nora twitched.

SLAP!

Six's head was whipped to the side. Nora was standing, huffing, fury burning in her moist reddened eyes. Her shoulders pumped and her fists were clenched tighter than Yang on her Semblance. He recovered quickly and stretched his arms.

"I won't stop you," he croaked.

Instead of a mighty Viking fist of fury, the bubbly teen constricted his waist with her muscled arms. She started crying.

"I'msorryi'msorryi'msorrypleasedon'tbemadSixRenandIdon'thaveanyparentsandIreallywantedustobelikeafamily!"

"Goddamn it, let go of me!"

"I'mreallyreallysorrySix!"

"It's fine! Now get off!"

"I'llstopcallingyou'daddy'andmakeRentobakeyoulotsofpancakes!"

Six pried her arms off him. "I get it, I get it!"

"Well, you two made up real quick," came an amused remark.

The Courier glared at Yang. "Shut up, Blondie."

The warm air blowing up from the desolate Clark County, Nevada brought about a welcoming feeling that nearly sent Ruby tumbling back onto her rear in ecstasy. She landed on her rucksack, threw her arms over her head, and let the mildly cool breeze dry off her sweat.

"It's so good to be back!"

"All that walking," Yang groused. She plopped onto her rear, undid the laces on her boots, and pulled the blisters off her feet. "Damn. I miss Bumblebee. Maybe we can get Raul to put together a new bike."

Jaune and Ren carefully laid down the stretcher before resting on their ends. Other than Velvet and Six, everyone savored the rest from the long arduous trek back out of the Divide either by dropping onto their ends or shedding their boots and bags. Even Nora skirted the limitations of her endurance after cradling Syrup, Magnhild, and a separate China Lake grenade launcher at the same time for the duration of their egress.

"Amazing how you seem so unfazed by this journey," Weiss remarked to the Courier.

"You get used to it," he answered, sweeping over the highways and the nearby gambling pit stop called Primm. His head suddenly locked a few degrees to southeast. "Ah, shit."

"Something wrong?" Blake inquired, following his gaze to the cliffside and the distant mountains.

Six tucked away his binoculars. "You kids head on to Primm. Head straight to the Mojave Express office and talk to Johnson Nash. Tell him it's on me. He'll know what to do."

"Wait, who?"

"Johnson...Nash?"

"Wasn't he your boss at some point?"

"Why?" pressed Velvet.

The Courier began working rapidly on his Pip-boy. "Things have changed now. Avoid any NCR troops you come across. Ignore them if you can. If they accost you, keep the conversations short and unassuming."

Weiss scrunched her brow. "Why the sudden—"

He held up his hand. "I'll be heading east. You all lay low in Primm. Move up to Goodsprings first chance you get. It's much quieter there. Nash'll give you the details."

"Um, why?" Yang asked.

"Politics." Six almost smirked at the guilty looks on their faces. "The NCR doesn't know about what happened in the Divide. Not yet. Once they do... Well, you'll see how the landscape changes. So best to keep this all hush-hush 'til things get sorted out."

Ruby brought up her knees to sandwich her chin. "We screwed up real bad, huh."

"I won't hold it against you, Hyper. Just stay out of Vegas for a couple days. Get your bearings first. Do not, I repeat, do not make contact with Hsu or Crocker or any NCR liaison. Maintain radio silence 'til I get back to you. Got it?"

"What are we going to say if they do contact us?" asked Jaune.

"The truth or whatever half-assed lie you could come up with. It wouldn't matter anyway. The fact that you made it out of the Divide means only one thing: Samson is down. And they won't hesitate to act on that."

"But they're unsure if Samson is even a weapon, let alone exists!" argued Weiss.

"Bullshit." The Courier continued chancing glances to the south. "I'm going off of borrowed time here so get moving as soon as you can."

"I take it you'll be handling some sort of damage control," Pyrrha guessed.

"Nothing new to me, Sparta. I've been cleaning up after airheads like you for years. There are a lot of idiots out there that are dumber than you think. Done dumber shit than what you pulled off." Six slung his field pack over his shoulder. "Watch yourselves."

He barely made it three steps down the slope when he felt Ruby pulling on his arm. "Six, wait!"

"Damn it. What now, Hyper?"

She bit her lip, twiddling her thumbs and gazing with faux interest at the bits of grass growing out of the waterless soil.

"I ain't got all day."

The little reaper closed her eyes and breathed deep to suck in the tears that threatening to spill out again. "I just wanted to say...I'm really, really sorry for ruining—"

Vickers stooped to a knee to level his glare at her silver pupils and said, "Ruby, it's taking me every fiber of my being to not wring your damn neck right now."

"I...I'm s-sorry..."

He tapped her on the shoulder and spoke softly. "That don't mean I'm angry at you forever. It's only taking me a while to let this slide. Just don't pull off shit like this next time, okay?"

Ruby nodded, noticing the cloudiness in his eyes.

"Good." Six ruffled her hair, a foggy expression crossing his features, his voice sounding distant. "Be a good girl, sweetie. I'll be gone for a while, 'kay? Remember to lock the doors and windows unless your mother says otherwise."

And he immediately departed, leaving behind a bewildered group of teens and their ever-oblivious pet deathclaw.

Later that evening, teams RWBY, JNPR-S, and their 'group mom' Velvet were huddled upstairs in the guest rooms of the Nash residence in Primm. Well-fed, cleaned-up, and kept well away from the curious eyes of the NCR presence in the town, they could not have been anywhere safer. While most of the teens were still mulling over Six's parting words, Blake and Velvet were more attentive to the chatter downstairs in the office.

"That's a damn shame," echoed Mister Johnson Nash.

"Yeah. They looked real tight, too," sympathized a younger voice, probably one of Mojave Express couriers dropping off their packages.

"Shit. Four dead NCR Rangers? Only Legion could go toe-to-toe with them tough sons o' bitches," a third voice piped, most likely another courier.

"I thought the Legion got kicked out years ago."

"Eh, wouldn't be surprised if they still got their damn scouts moving back up here. Finicky bastards."

"Now, now. Where'd you boys find them bodies?" Nash inquired.

"Wasn't just us that found 'em, boss. NCR guys were swarming the area," the first began.

"A few clicks southeast of Canyon Wreckage, they said," continued the other. "Place even had a nice view of Primm and everything. Hell, one of them greenies said you could pro'lly see through the crack in them cliffs all the way up to the Divide from there."

"Apparently, some distress call went out. They were being attacked while scouting something. By the time the cavalry got there, they got four dead bodies with their body armor all done shot up, holes in the back of their heads, and most of their gear missing."

"Sounds like an execution."

"More an ambush and an execution."

"Seems more and more Legion-y if you ask me."

"Yeah, but then they'd crucify 'em and we didn't see no crosses there."

"Oh, by the way, you heard? Bunch of ex-slaves from Arizona got let in at Fort Mead. Got out from some slave revolt or something."

"No shit? Jarheads are pro'lly screening the poor bastards in case of a Legion spy."

"Alright, I think that's enough talk o' that," Nash dismissed. "You boys get some rest 'fore you head back out. Best leave that all to the NCR. Maybe they'll do something about this time. That's what all these damn taxes are for, anyway."

Upstairs, the two faunus girls shared knowing looks. Without saying a word, they both agreed that the unfortunate Ranger squadron was hit neither by Legion affiliates nor raiders.

NOTE (June 13, 2018): This took a while to flesh out. Mainly because this is the fifth or seventh draft for this chapter. Maybe you could call this the 'denouement' or 'falling action' for this story arc because of how things are coming together. Somewhat.

It was fun reading through the reviews. I did not expect a lot of you guys to come to a nearly unanimous conclusion as to Six's true intent regarding Samson. It feels good to be this engaging with the audience. :D

Anyway, hope you guys like this. Let me know what you think. :)

-~oOo~-

Review dude: Fallout 76 caught me by surprise. A Fallout title so soon? Knowing Bethesda, I was fully expecting it to be an online thing, much like with The Elder Scrolls: Online. I wasn't wrong but I'm not as excited. I'm more of single-player but I'll be keeping an eye on how this new title would perform.

-~oOo~-

Omake.

Six picked up the discarded book to give it a good look. Unlike most pieces of literature he came across in the wasteland (drenched, burnt, or weathered with age), this one appeared to have come off the printing press rather recently. Probably a new publication from California.

The cover was...colorful, to say the least, having caught his attention while rummaging through the corpses at this highway pit stop.

'Ninjas,' huh. He flipped through the pages. Oh. Great. Another sappy romance novel... Huh, it ain't that bad.

He lifted the book and an entire spread unfolded before him.

"Holy shit. Now that's a katana."

The Courier averted his gaze to look at the dead raiders around him. Whoever they got this off of, they got some really weird kinks. Not my kind of thing but damn...this is fucking graphic. Or perhaps that one junkie who was busy beating off to this while his buddies were getting shot up actually purchased this legitimately from some passing caravan. Who knows, really?

Folding the pages back in, Six was about to toss it back into the desert when he remembered...

There were people who would actually pay for this stuff. Smut is rare. Well-drawn smut with a decent plot is even rarer. Definitely a market for this. Probably fetch a good price from some rich bastard with a creepy fetish. And then there was that ghoul Beatrix Russell up at Freeside. He shuddered at the thought of her sexual preferences.

Deciding that he had wasted enough time, Six tucked the book into his pack and continued walking.

'Ninjas of Love' is a pretty stupid title, though.

ORIGINALLY DRAFTED: May 19, 2018

LAST EDITED: July 10, 2023

INITIALLY UPLOADED: June 18, 2018