Not that long after Akechi had marched out of Nipton, towards the Mojave outpost, he heard gunshots and someone screaming: "Help!"

He glanced towards the source of the voice and saw two people in their mid-twenties, a man in leather armor with messy black hair and a woman with a half-shaved head of purple hair, in an overshirt, shorts and boots. They were each holding the other at gunpoint with 10mm handguns.

"You, with the shirt and the duffel bag!" the woman shouted at Akechi. "Help me, this asshole's trying to shoot me!"

"She shot first!" the man protested. "Don't listen to her!"

Around him was desert, desert and more desert, so he couldn't just pretend that it's not his business. He had found two holsters in the looted town, and kept a pistol on each hip. He pulled out two guns, his own suppressed Sig in his right and the 10mm pistol in his left, and approached the duo, holding them at gunpoint. "Both of you, put down your weapons and we determine who's who."

"No way!" the man protested. "I disarm myself and she's gonna shoot me right after!"

"Don't lie, you psycho!"

Akechi groaned in frustration; the last thing he needed was a Mexican standoff. "Alright, you," he said to the guy, "what's your name and what's your version of the events?"

"I'm Tomas," he introduced himself, glancing between Akechi and the woman. "I've been traveling with this bitch here when she suddenly attacked me!"

"Bullshit!" she protested.

Akechi turned to her. "And what's your name and version?"

"Jacklyn," Jacklyn introduced herself, "and I was just traveling east from the outpost when this asshole came out of nowhere, screaming about stars or something!"

"And what stars was he talking about?"

"I don't know!" she protested. "Some incoherent rambling or whatever."

"Is it- is it about my lucky necklace?" Tomas asked.

"Don't speak out of turn!" she shouted.

"What lucky necklace?" Akechi asked.

"I'm wearing it." Tomas slowly reached under his armor with his off-hand, and pulled out seven bottle caps on a string he was wearing around his neck. "I found a few bottle caps with a star on them when prospecting." He displayed the inside of one such cap to Akechi. "They're pretty rare, and I thought they're lucky, so I put them on a necklace when I found a few. And-and I didn't mention it earlier, but she demanded that I hand over my caps when she attacked me, but didn't mean my money, 'cause she didn't take the cap sack I threw at her."

"So that's why you threw your money first at me?" Jacklyn retorted. "So you could pretend I tried to mug you?!"

Akechi exhaled air through his nose. "Right, right. English is my second language, so let me repeat, just to make sure I understand it:" He turned to Jacklyn. "You tried to shoot this guy over seven fucking bottlecaps?!"

"I didn't-"

"One wrong move and I pull the trigger," Akechi interrupted her. "You claimed he came out of nowhere, but there's no hiding spot in the vicinity, and then you said he 'rambled incoherently', even though he's now having a normal-ish conversation with two guns pointed at him. And even now, you stare at these stupid star caps like a starved orphan stares at a food display. Your story doesn't add up."

Jacklyn spun ninety degrees to try and shoot Akechi, but since he had his gun pointed at her already, he fired first. By coincidence, the bullet hit her weapon, knocking it out of her hand and mangling said hand a bit – not beyond what a wasteland doctor could fix, but beyond what she could fix herself. "Gah! You bastard…"

"In more ways than one," Akechi smirked, content to pretend that was all deliberate on his end, "Tell you what, I've shot enough assholes today, so let's make a deal – you start running now, and I give you ten seconds to get outside the fifty meters of handgun range."

Clutching her hand in pain, Jacklyn screamed "What the fuck is a meter?!"

"One," Akechi snarled.

That was enough – Jacklyn broke into a sprint, running northwest-ish, deeper into the desert. Tomas and Akechi watched her disappear in the distance in a dust cloud.

"Right," Tomas glanced at Akechi, "can you please holster your guns now, stranger?"

"You first."

Slowly and carefully, Tomas put his gun in the holster, and after a moment, Akechi followed. Akechi then went up to pick up Jacklyn's discarded pistol and inspected it. "Shit, it took a ten-mil bullet to the frame and it barely dented it."

"That's the good ol' N99 for ya," Tomas said. "Thank you for saving me."

The scowl on Akechi's face was at odds with the praise he had just received. "You know…" he said, removing the bullets from the magazine and pocketing them, "I was an assassin in a previous life. And a bastard to boot. I had one guy that I could've called a friend, and then I betrayed him and shot him in the face."

"I, uh, see," Tomas winced, but only slightly. Less than Akechi had expected of him. "And now you're trying to atone for it?"

"I'm not!" Akechi burst out. "This place is just so fucking lawless that the last shred of a conscience I possess puts me head and shoulders above the motherfucking baseline!" He pinched his nose in frustration. "You see that town?" he gestured east, towards Nipton. "Some fucking larpers killed most inhabitants and tortured the rest, and now I'm going to the Mojave outpost to report that to the troops there, because the one person that cares about the casualties right now is a literal bastard!"

Tomas looked into the distance, at the Legion banner hanging from the roof of the town hall, and the still-visible smokestacks from burned tires. "You think there's anything valuable left there?"

"That's what you're concerned about?!"

"Sorry, sorry," he raised his hands in surrender. "Please don't shoot me."

Akechi took a breath. "I'm not killing people for such petty reasons." Anymore, he added in his head. "To answer your question, no." He took off the duffle bag and put the empty pistol inside it. "I packed everything worth anything into this thing. People suggested that the NCR might not care for the wounded enough to send immediate help, and in that scenario I wanted to barter for necessities at the outpost."

"Right, right," Tomas nodded. "I think I should get out of here myself. Back to Cali, maybe. Can I walk to the outpost with you?"

"You know what, sure." Akechi put the duffle bag back on. "Let's go."

The two returned to the road and marched west in silence for a few minutes, before Akechi glanced at Tomas. "You aren't going to shoot me or anything?"

"No!" Tomas protested. "I told you that bitch shot me first and I just defended myself! I'm not gonna attack you for no reason!"

"Right, got it."

After a pause, Tomas asked: "Where did that even come from?"

"I've had… a few brushes with death over the past few weeks," Akechi replied. "I'm expecting karma to finally come back to me, for all the lives I've ruined and all the damage I caused, but it just keeps missing me by a hairsbreadth, for some fucking reason. Heck, take that woman that attacked you." He pulled out his Sig. "I pointed this gun at you and the ten-mil at her."

"Is that important?"

Akechi pulled the slide back – it stayed back, revealing the magazine was empty. "This gun's empty. I ran out of 9mm ammo and couldn't find any in Nipton. But then I got between two armed strangers, and I had to keep myself safe, so one gun was loaded and the other was a bluff. And if I had pointed the unloaded one at her, she would've gotten at least one shot out before I could react."

"Sounds lucky if you ask me," Tomas shrugged.

"Sounds frustrating," Akechi retorted. "Almost like someone up there wants to keep me alive just to fuck with me some more."

"Hey, Victor," the courier said, unamused, last time we followed him. "We were just talking about you."

The robot chuckled to himself. "I felt my chassis tinglin', but I assumed it's just radiation."

"Alright," Makoto said, "just to make sure I follow:" she pointed at Victor, "you ordered the courier here to deliver a package, right?"

"Yep," the courier replied. "From… somewhere in the Republic, that ain't important, to the north entrance of the New Vegas Strip."

"Then someone stole that package, and tried to kill the courier for it, but you got him, grievously wounded, to a doctor?" Makoto continued.

"That's right. Took me a while to get him out of his grave, I admit," Victor remarked, showing his three-pronged grabber. "These things ain't made for diggin'."

"Why not stop them from capping me in the first place?" the courier asked.

Victor mimicked glancing to the side by turning on his wheel to the right and to the left. "This is a bit of a secret," he whispered, "but a lone Securitron can't do that much. If I started a three-on-one, I'd lose it promptly, and then we'd both be pushin' up broc flowers." After a pause, he added, "If I could've gotten you outta that pickle without more holes in your head, I would've. Honest."

"And why are you here now?" Whitmeyer asked.

The courier decided to not bother with niceties. "Why are you following me?"

"I'm just curious," Victor bounced a bit in a mimicry of a shrug. "Or I guess I feel responsible for your well-bein'. I dug you out, after all."

"You guess," Makoto repeated.

"As you can tell, miss, I'm a robot." He chuckled at his own joke. "Someone programmed me to be the way I am, and to do the things I do. I ain't privy to what their goals are, and they can change, apparently." He pointed at the courier. "A few days back, this fella here asked me to help his posse fight back some varmint attackin' the town I live in, but someone shut me out before the gunfight, so I couldn't help, and now there's egg on my screen."

"So your maker wants to watch me," the courier remarked, seeing where this was going. "See what I want to do about that stolen package, maybe?"

"Maybe," Victor shrugged again. "To be fair, I'd appreciate it if you got it back somehow. Or, well, my master would, I s'pose."

"Your master can go fuck themselves," the courier barked. "I got mugged, stripped of expensive equipment, and almost killed because apparently that stupid chip was important enough to kill for and your boss didn't pay for a high-risk job."

"A chip?" Akira raised an eyebrow. "Like a computer chip?"

"No, like a casino chip," the courier explained. "Just bigger and made of platinum for some reason. Probably some rich asshole's trinket." He turned back to Victor. "I reported the theft to the nearest Mojave Express branch, and since I got the wounds to prove it, they know I'm telling the truth. My job is done." He marched away from the robot, towards the ramp out of Primm. "Folks, we're leaving."

Akira, Makoto and Whitmeyer trotted behind the courier. After a moment, Victor rolled up from behind and got in the four's way.

"Uh, fella?" he said. "I am receivin' a direct message from my boss right now. They want to hire you, on better terms, to retrieve the chip." He then pointed at the other three. "I'm gonna ask y'all to walk away for a moment. This is a private matter."

"They're on my team," the courier protested, mostly out of contrarianism. "Anything good for my ears is good for theirs."

"This is a delicate manner. My boss would prefer that it gets handled discreetly."

"Your boss doesn't have to worry about us," Akira reassured him. "My friend and I can keep our mouths shut."

"And we will not interrupt the courier in his job," Makoto added. "We just want to find the rest of our group and go back home."

"And I just want to leave the area as soon as I can," Whitmeyer said. "Just pretend I am not here."

"A'ight, if you say so," Victor said, slightly unsure. "I ain't gettin' a complaint from the boss, so I guess they're fine with it."

"Speaking of," the courier said, "why does your boss want to rehire a guy that just told them to go fuck themselves?"

"Like I said, discretion. Hirin' you limits the amount of people that have to be brought into the loop. And survivin' the double tap proves you're sturdy like a Vault door – or 'a worthwhile asset', as my boss put it."

The courier mulled it over for a moment. He was out of a job, and listening to the offer wouldn't hurt. "Let's say I'm curious. What terms does your boss propose?"

"Quote, 'reimbursement for the equipment stolen, no questions asked, and one thousand bottle caps upon successful delivery of the original package', end quote."

"That's not how you pronounce 'fifteen hundred'," the courier deadpanned.

"I'd give you fifteen thousand if it were up to me," Victor replied, "but boss replied '1250, not one cap more'."

"Hm." The courier stroked his beard, as if thinking. "And what does 'reimbursement' mean in this context?"

A flash came from somewhere on Victor's chassis. "I just took a photo of your face, pard'ner. I sent it to the boss, and when you get to the New Vegas Strip, a colleague of mine will approach you. You'll give them a list of what you lost and the boss will pay to get it back for you."

"Right." After thinking it over for a moment, the courier told him: "Tell you what, add one more thing and I'll consider it."

"I can ask the boss if they agree."

"Yeah, that's the thing – I want to speak with them in person, face to face," the courier demanded. "It's not about revenge or anything, I just want to look in the eye of the man or woman that got me shot."

There was a moment of silence, finally broken by Victor. "I sent that upstream, but didn't get a respon- oh, there it is. They agree to that."

The courier didn't expect that. "Really?"

"Well, they said so. The boss will speak with you when you come to the Strip to get reimbursed. Only with you though, no plus ones allowed."

"Fine then, let's say I'll play along for now." The courier outstretched his hand, and Victor grabbed it with his claw and gently shook it.

"That's all I could ask for, pard'ner," Victor said, content. "Like I said, the boss wants things to be done without a ruckus, so take your time. Do other gigs if you have to. I'll leave you and your posse for now. Happy trails!" he waved goodbye, then spun around and left.

Makoto watched him roll off into the distance. "Right." She glanced at the courier. "Sir, I know I am new here, but I must ask – are you sure you know what you're doing?"

"Believe it or not, I do," the courier replied, beginning to march again, as the other two followed. "The new terms are reasonable, and the reimbursement sounds like a way to limit my losses. Maybe break even if I'm lucky. And I'll need to take the long way to the Strip, following a route I recommended to Akira, so it looks like we'll hang around for longer."

"You think he's honest about paying for damages?" Whitmeyer asked.

"Maybe. Based on where the boss wants to meet me, I'm willing to risk checking," the courier replied, turning into the ramp leading out of Primm, south to the Mojave outpost. "The Strip's exclusive, high-class. The closest thing to capital-C civilization in the area. Whoever's calling me, they won't be able to start anything I won't be able to stop."

"I will not lie, this sounds inviting," Makoto commented.

"And on top of that," the courier continued, "I'll be honest with ya – I'm curious just who my mysterious employer is. And I've got a theory…" He turned to Makoto. "How much do you know about the politics of the area?"

"Uh, there's the NCR, which is underwhelming, and there's the Legion, which I should run away from on sight."

"Great, that's more or less what I already told Akira," he proclaimed. "And, between those two, there's a neutral party. The city-state of New Vegas, run by one Robert House. Peace and order inside is maintained by an army of Securitrons. Robots, the same make and model that Victor is."

"And you described the package as a rich, ahem, jerk's trinket," Makoto said. "I assume the ruler of a city is no stranger to conspicuous consumption."

"Yeah, exactly," the courier nodded. "And on top of that, as far as I remember, nobody has seen House in person ever since he has reestablished himself. And he has the name of some pre-War industrialist and rich dude, and I'm curious if that's a coincidence or not."

"Couldn't someone hack a Securitron though?" Akira asked. "All the secrecy could just be the hacker not wanting to reveal themselves."

"That's also an option," the courier shrugged. "And in that case I want to know who was good enough to pull that off and not get spotted yet. But that's in the future. For now, as promised," he pointed in the distance, towards a large monument of two rangers shaking hands on top of a hill, "Mojave outpost. Everything behind the Unification Monument is unquestionably under NCR control."

Gears started turning in Akira's head. "You know, it's a man-made landmark visible from far away. Maybe some of my friends spotted it and are waiting there to be found. Or heading towards it as we speak."

Makoto chuckled to herself. "Ever the optimist."