OOC: I got Fish's approval to do something a bit different here. These wise guys don't have a sheet for now: more on that later.

The New York Syndicate, Arriving at McCarran

As the day turned to late evening, a lone jet airliner touched down at McCarran airport. Once the aircraft had taxied slowly to a stop, the gangplank was rolled up and five smartly dressed individuals stepped out and down onto the tarmac. Two men in suits, fedoras, and long overcoats came out first carrying tommy-guns locked firmly in their arms. The two men stepped aside, while keeping a careful watch on the surroundings as the other three disembarked. The next man down was exceptionally rotund man who wore a black and white pin-striped suit with an overcoat draped over his shoulders like a cape. His fingers bore several large jewel-encrusted rings, while a fine gold watch was tucked neatly into his jacket pocket, its chain partially visible. He walked carefully with an ebony cane down the gangplank.

Behind him, a younger, thinner, spitting image of the large man trailed closely behind, helping his revered father down the gangplank. The younger man was dressed more modestly than his sire, but his dark blue suit was well tailored and his shoes were finely shined.

"Attenzione!" The younger man said in a heavy Italian-american accent, "Be careful papa'."

The older man simply gave a huff as he finally stepped down over the gangplank. Both gentlemen turned as the final individual appeared out of the doorway and came down. A lovely dark-haired girl wearing an elegant, and slightly revealing, 20's 'flapper' style dress strolled down leisurely. A burning cigarette held in a slender ivory cigarette holder was clutched in her right hand. She took a single puff, and let the smoke waft out and into the Mojave evening air.

"We're late, Che peccato. It was that damn rad-storm." The young man gave an annoyed sigh, "But I suppose better late than never."

The young woman simply grinned, "Well Vegas doesn't sleep little brother. You can never be late."

"silenzioso!, Anthony, Lucia, both of you." The older gentlemen commander sternly, in a low thickly accented voice, "Lets not stand around gawking. I don't want to have any more delays."

"Yes papa."

-----------

After taking the monorail to the Strip, the individuals made their way down and into the neon lights of New Vegas. Lucia was star-struck at the sights and sounds of this gleaming city in the desert, which was more lively and bright than even her own home. Whoever had built this place certainly had style, and more than a fair amount of class. Her thoughts raced as to which Casino she should try first, and how much money she could talk her father into giving her to spend here.

Anthony was similarly impressed, but his thoughts were less concerned with gambling, and more with the logistics of it all. His interest lay in how such a feat of humanity had come to be. How had a city like this been carved out of such an inhospitable desert? He was similarly resolved to learn all this, and more, about this wondrous city.

When the small group finally made their way into the Ultra Luxe, they walked into the gourmand to find, to their relief, that their were plenty of delegates still milling about. Although it was clear that something important must have occurred.

"Don Salvatore Borgio, of the New York Syndicate, and his children, Anthony and Lucia," One of their bodyguards announced as they walked in.

The New Yorkers made their way to an open area at the table, partly to allow the aging Don a chance to rest, and partly to gauge the state of the room.

"Scusa," The Don began, his voice tired and breathing heavy from the walk from the Mono rail station, "We were delayed. A radiation storm prevented us from leaving in time to arrive here. Where we're from, they're quite frequent, and often deadly. I'm afraid I know little of the groups here and I can tell things are coming to an end for today. It would be my honor to speak with any who wish to, and perhaps I can understand what happened before our arrival."

The Great Khanate

Cain Marshall, Envoy of the Great Khans
Ultra Lux Casino, New Vegas, F.Z.M

In no time at all since he'd arrived, voices had been raised and the NCR's president had been shived with what appeared to be a pair of chopsticks. What the fuck did I miss? Was all Cain could think as he witnessed a brawl break out between the shived and shiver, a woman of a faction the Great Khan didn't recognize. What drew Cain's interest however was the bounty cried out on the NCR representative's head by the two delectable women just before the brawl. One hundred thousands caps...

Hiding a smirk of his own as he watched the exchange which was quickly ended by the intervention of one of House's drones. The Khan made a note to get that woman's name before his eyes wandered back towards the robed man, a man of the Western Brotherhood. He offered a nod in return to the man's own nod of acknowledgement though remained in his seat as he regarded the standing Elder.

"I believe that would be wise, Elder." Cain replied with a measured tone to the Elder's words before the brawl had interrupted them. "Perhaps tomorrow would be most suitable for a meeting given your current... engagements." The khan spoke as he rose from his seat, his eyes flickering to the other Brotherhood members within the room. "Yes, that would do." Cain added as he moved to shake the hand of the Brotherhood Elder before the man left the room with others leaving for whatever haunts they chose.

He sensed the tension in the Great Khan besides him before he noticed the men of the red, of the Legion approaching him. Cain hid his amusement as the Quaestor stopped and bowed before him, rather than returning the gesture however Cain offered the Legion man his hand for a proper greeting.

"Cain Marshall. I speak for the Great Khans. Yes." Cain introduced himself after listening to Titus and gripping the man's hand in a shake if he wasn't above accepting it. "We would accept your invitation Quaestor. I believe the Khans have no other business here today so by all means lead on." The Khan spoke with a motion of his hand. "This place is a strange one... Perhaps you might speak to me of what happened before we arrived at the conference, on our way to your camp."

With that, barring any further business, an ensemble of the red and purple clad Legionaries and the black jacketed Great Khans would ride out of New Vegas, leaving behind the city of lights for the wasteland beyond.

Titus Crassus - Queastor of The Legion

Titus readily accepted Cain's handshake and returned it firmly.

"Vegas is indeed a strange place," he replied, "And this meeting no less so. I will share with you what I know thus far."

Titus then led the Khan(s) out of the Gourmand, down the strip, and towards Freeside where their horses were waiting. Titus and Atius swiftly mounted up. Despite his bookish appearance, Titus was an excellent horseman, and after taking the reigns he set off down the streets of Freeside with the Khans in tow. As they trotted down the filthy thoroughfare lined with beggars, thugs, and would-be gamblers, Titus rode beside Cain and explained what had happened in the time since the meeting had begun,

"You did not miss much," Titus began, "Once we had all arrived and the proceedings begun, the NCR saw fit to immediately declare war and announce that their invasion was already underway. Caesar Lucius had suspected that such an attack was imminent, but I admit we had believed they would wait until after these proceedings had concluded. Then to add further insult, it was revealed that the NCR President whom we had been dealing with was not actually the President at all. Kimball, coward that he is, refused to even attend the meeting in person. Instead he sent a body double, no doubt for his own safety."

As they passed through the east gate of Freeside and out onto the windswept expanse of the darkening Mojave, Titus led the group of Khans towards the east. In the distance, beyond the ruins of outer vegas, a campfire could be seen glowing,

Titus sighed, before continuing, "In any case, Caesar left to see to the defense of Arizona. Kimball is a fool if he thinks his advance will be met unchecked, or that his army will not suffer terribly for treading through Legion soil. The NCR's second invasion has been what Caesar and his Legates have been planning ever since the first war concluded. The wastes of Arizona will be a deathtrap for the NCR soldiery. The President most likely wants to use this war to unify his people and distract them from the problems at home. I think the fool will find, however, that his people are going to be far less amicable to the devastation that this war will bring to them. Perhaps once they've gotten the chance to experience the horrors of war first-hand, they'll rid themselves of the corruption thats leading them."

As Titus finished, the horsemen rode up to the small Legion encampment they'd been traveling towards. A contuburnium of eight veteran legionaries and their Decanus stood watch over the camp, which consisted of several hide and leather tents dyed crimson red, all circling a large bonfire at the center where the butchered meat of a bighorner was roasting. At the forefront of the camp, a single tent larger and more ornately decorated than the others stood out prominently. Titus and Atius both rode up to this tent and as they dismounted one of the legionaries hitched the horses to a row of wooden posts. Titus invited the Khans to do likewise and then beckoned them towards the waiting bonfire.

The Queastor took his seat in a hide chair draped with furs and offered the similarly decorated chair next to him to Cain, while likewise offering other seats and sitting logs around fire to the rest of the Khans men. Atius stood guard next to the horses, while the the Legionaries kept a sharp eye on the surrounding Mojave landscape.

"First, before we talk I want to offer you food and drink. I'm sure you're hungry from your travels and I can't imagine you had enough time to truly enjoy anything that our hosts at the Ultra Luxe provided," Titus said, and he motioned to a pair of slave girls waiting off to the side. The two women immediately brought forth plates of food to the Khans, consisting of roasted brahmin, bread, and fruits. While also bringing cold water and several wine skins to quench their thirst.

"Take what you like," Titus grinned, "Nothing like one of those so called 'exquisite' meals from the gourmand perhaps, but the calf was killed only this evening and the produce nearly as fresh as that."

Once the Khans had sampled the food and had their fill, Titus broached the topic he'd been hoping to discuss with Cain,

"The reason I wished to meet with you and your people is simple," he started to say, "Caesar wishes to extend to the Khans an offer of goodwill, and hopes that any transgressions that we might have committed in the past towards one another might be forgiven. Your thoughts on the NCR as well, I would like to know. Especially now that Kimball Junior has shown himself to be just as misguided and overconfident as his father was."

Rough Rider’s - Nevada, New Vegas


A whirlwind of dust and debris choked the air making visibility difficult for a brief moment until the sharp repetitive whir of the old vertibirds engines started to fade into the desert as it began its ascent, remaining low to the ground as it flew out of sight into the distance. When the dust had faded the landing zone was barren, with the coarse soil of the Mojave being the only thing disturbed by the vertibirds arrival and departure. Appearances can be very deceptive however, for only a few feet away a small group of broken silhouettes figures laid concealed in a shallow wadi.

Once the sound of the vertibirds engines were reduced to a pulsating thump far off into the horizon one of the figures slowly knelt up against the slope of the wadi making sure to minimize their silhouette. With the noise of the vertibird nearly out of range the desert around them was reduced to a serene silence, only to be broken by the very faint shuffling of gear as the rest of the figures rose up from the wadi showing the same care for their discretion as their colleague who rose before them. Now if one was perceptive enough they would barely make out the silhouettes of 4 or 5 people maybe even more, as even the most trained eye could easily lose their silhouettes or be deceived by the arid scrub surrounding them.

Though just as they appeared along the edge of the wadi they disappeared back within its arid banks. Concealed once more the group moved like phantoms along the dusty, bone dry passage. There was a precision to be had in their movements that in and of themselves showed the professionalism and apparent camaraderie possessed by this small group. They did not speak with each other but yet they all appeared to be aware of their destination, and even when the head of the group would make an abrupt turn down an unexpected vein of the wadi the others followed with pinpoint precision, as if every rock, bend, and slope was expected and methodically planned for. Eventually after a few minutes the group stopped as the leader rose their right arm out and in the shape of an L and clasped their open hand into a fist, signalling the group to halt. With this order the group naturally fell into a loose defensive perimeter along the banks of the wadi, scanning the area for potential threats.

From their defensive positions one of the figures, a young woman stripped down from her khaki flight suit and tactical gear and into her underwear. She then removed a slim fitting black suit with a white dress shirt and a scarlet red tie. She had no weapons on her at all once she changed, the only thing she carried with her were documents essential for her entry, an identification card that identified her as a member of the NCR Presidential security detail, and a small pack of “business” cards in her bra strap. Ready to begin the mission she was brought here for the woman headed down into the desert towards the strip. She wasn’t going to wait for an order or direction, she was above the people she was sent here with. They were only along for the ride, she was the real show.

After a few minutes of travelling she was close to the Strip’s gate. As per usual a pair of securitrons were standing watch and checking for passes. She readied her pass from her breast pocket in her blazer and handed it to one of the securitrons. Seeing nothing out of the ordinary she was allowed through without incident, as was to be expected. The person that sent her invested a lot of money into this operation for it all to fail over something so basic. Once inside the glistening streets of the New Vegas Strip the woman headed towards her first target, the Tops casino and the venue Mr. House chose to host his meeting of the powers. With a distinct goal in mind the woman headed down the strip. Not at all being distracted by the glitz and glamor of the many hotels and casinos that made up the strip, after all she was a professional. None of these things interested her, she came here to complete a mission not to indulge herself in the luxuries provided in these glistening palaces.

It wasn’t long until she was at the entrance to the Tops and by the looks of things she was right on time. From the amount of guards outside of the building it was clear that the meeting was still taking place inside. When she approached the door to enter she was stopped by a pair of armed guards who informed her that the Tops wasn’t open to the general public for security concerns and if she wanted to enter then they would need to see some I.D. Of course she was happy to oblige them, she reached into her breast pocket once more and pulled out her I.D allowing the guards to inspect it.

“Sharon Cross, NCR Military, Presidential Security Detail. You’re a hotshot aren’t you? Well We’re going to have to verify this I.D with our superior.” Strictly following procedure as was expected of them, the guard with her I.D started to radio in to his superior when she stopped him.

“Come on guys I get that you’re doing your job but I need to get in there so I can do mine. If you want to pat me down, strip search me. Do whatever you want. I can guarantee you that I’m not a threat, but I can’t guarantee that you guys didn’t let one in already and if President Kimball gets injured or killed then all of our heads are going to roll.” She laid on the charm just enough to let the guards get comfortable. She knew how to get at people and these guards were no different.

“So are you saying we don’t know how to do our jobs?” As anticipated the guards got upset and turned their attention away from verifying the woman's I.D and instead chose to confront her for a slight they felt she committed against them.

“Hey that’s not what I’m saying at all. All I’m trying to say is that we all have a job to do. You guys bust your balls out here in this blistering heat and I appreciate that. Without you guys out here my job would be twice as hard, now I just need you to let me in before my job gets even harder. Now like I said you can search me all you want. I’m not a threat.”

Figuring why the hell not the other guard agreed to search her, he did get a bit overzealous with the searching but like she said they didn’t find anything besides paperwork that did more to strengthen her case than erode it. “You don’t carry a gun?” They weren’t wrong she didn’t have a weapon on her.
“I don’t need one.” Unfazed by the guards gropping she reassumed her calm professional tone.

“Really? You’re either really crazy or really stupid.”

“Who says I can’t be both. Afterall I’ve got to know what I’m doing to keep this job. Now are we good here?” She readjusted her tie and straightened out her blazer as if she already knew the answer and sure enough they let her through. On her way in she jokingly remarked to the guards. “Don’t worry if anything happens I’ll try to save something for you.”

Despite the slow down at the gate she seemed to have been arriving at just the right time. Two of the delegates including her supposed charge were engaged in a fight. Using the chaos and confusion of the situation to her advantage she maneuvered effortlessly through the crowd towards one of her targets. Thankfully the Legion delegate was still inside and his guards were trying to make sense of the chaos. This allowed her to remove a business card from her bra strap and with a well honed slight of hand place it on the guard without him noticing before mixing back into the crowd and towards the door. On her way out she spotted her other target, the delegates from the Jade Empire but they were in the heart of the altercation. Getting close to them would be too risky, that and her friends from outside were coming in to deal with the commotion so it was time for her to move.

Slipping effortlessly through the doors of the Tops and back outside onto the Strip she headed towards the den of vice itself the Gomorrah. She’d done her homework beforehand and knew that Shelby the woman that was currently assaulting the President of the NCR and the close second to the Jaded Empress herself was staying at the Gomorrah in suite 253. From this point on everything should go as expected. Security at the Gomorrah was light and any guards that stopped her were not going to be nearly as motivated to hassle her as the two stooges outside the Tops. She was right the guards at the Gomorrah didn’t even check her I.D. They just checked her for weapons and from that point on she moved unobstructed to suite 253, and before she knew it she was picking the lock on the door and heading inside. She sat down in one of the luxurious chairs in the suite making sure her back was protected and she could see the entrance clearly. The position she ended up in was dimly lit as the lights were not all on and while she waited she retrieved another business card from her bra strap in preparation of Shelby's arrival. On the card it read;

Commander Tolen (AKA: Prancing Wolf), Commander of the New Vegas outpost.
New Vegas Outpost, New Vegas

Wolf was reading over a Pre-War army field manual when his radio had come to life, it was the Boss himself, Commander Fulman. "Prancing Wolf, this is Fulman, do you copy?" Wolf jumped from his bed in the officers barracks and reached for the radio, "Yes, sir! What can I do for you?" The Commander, being all business, got to the point. "Wolf, my absence has vacated the TCC title, but the outpost needs to remain and I need you to oversee it. Your first duty as my field commander is to get into contact with House and see if he can use a hand with anything. Rich eccentrics tend to pay well for worthless tasks. That said, here's what you're to do. In lieu of 75% of all payments in caps, you're to offer a land deal. In return for permanent on-call status as independent contractors, we'll obtain rights to use the nearby airfield as our new base. Hold on..." Wolf could hear beeps and blips on the other side. "Right, the satellite maps have it labelled as 'Searchlight Airport'. So the deal is '25% of a contract's value in caps and Searchlight Airport'. Give room for negotiation if he wants to lower payments. Cash from Vegas is extra, the real gem is the airport. Whether House is strategic enough to catch that is up for debate, but I hear he's a beancounter, so he may just focus on the caps. You know your assignment, Commander Tolen, I expect you perform as my hand in Vegas. Don't disappoint my faith I've placed in you." Wolf nodded at the radio, even though the Boss couldn't see, "Yes, sir. I won't let you down, you can count on me."

Ryan put his BDU shirt on over his undershirt and inspected how he looked. He brushed a little dust off the Mid-Western BOS patch on his right shoulder, then a little dust off his Arctic Haven patch to his left. He didn't care much for the south. Vegas was ridiculously dust prone. But regardless, he was going to follow his orders to the death and he had to make his way to Vegas' Strip. He left the office and went inside of McCarran to get a ride on the monorail to save him from needing to walk all the way around. as he sat on the rail, he had to admit his admiration of the use of old civilian pre-war transport, a rare sight in the world now. The intercom announced their arrival and he gently pushed past a couple rich civs out of NCR looking to waste their cash and he made his way to the north end of the Strip to the Lucky 38. But he couldn't figure out how to get inside. He scratched his head and made his way up to a nearby Securiwhatever, those Bots he'd only seen here in Vegas. He tapped on its TV screen, "Hey, uh....bot man...I need to talk to you boss, Mr. House. Can you tell him the Arctic Haven mercenaries are here with a business proposal?"

(OOC: Gingy, I'll let you handle the bot's reactions and so on so they can react in a way you feel they would/should)

Simon Barnaky - Ultra-Luxe

"Hm...", House replied. "It pleases me to see that you have not fallen prey to the fatal ideologies of your contemporaries. The only way we can rebuild is if we learn from the pitfalls of our predecessors. I have a vision for your Brotherhood of Steel and my city, but we must lay down many layers of bricks before it can come to fruition." He paused. "If the New California Republic were to invade New Vegas, they would suffer extreme losses, but they would win. As long as this hypothetical is true, my vision will not be able to run its course. We must become powerful enough to halt their expansion."

Robert took a deep breath. "The NCR--just like my generation was before them--is doomed to destroy itself. It is a warped facsimile of America's doomsday government. We must create a large enough barrier that they cannot grow any larger. They have the capability to swallow the entire western stretch of this nation whole, and in a few centuries, they will be letting all of those people down." He chuckled. "I suppose that is where our ideologies align. We must ensure that humanity does not repeat its mistakes."

"Indeed", Barnaky replied matter of factly. "The NCR as it is currently configured is a long term threat to us all....like the worst of the 20th Century Dictators, they expand by necessity lest their economic mismanagement catch up to them. That is exactly why we stepped in at Albuquerque five years ago. It's also why Kimball is in Arizona now. And I want to make this perfectly clear...I haven't stayed alive far longer than I deserved or cared to so that everything I've built, all the sacrifices my people have made in obedience to my commands, is pissed away by those greedy, short-sighted fools in Shady Sands." He then added, "I swore on my wife's grave I would bring about a world fit for her to have lived in...and I will not tolerate Kimball, or the NCR, or anyone else for that matter...and by that I mean the Cult...getting in my way." He then concluded, "Speaking of the Cult, that is something else we need to discuss eventually."

Mr. House gave himself another few moments to articulate his thoughts. "The first steps toward keeping the NCR within their own borders is for the FZM to establish a human military. Years ago, one of my former associates led his own expedition into an old military fortress known as 'The Divide'. It is filled to the brim with priceless military tech, including dormant ICBMs and special weaponry and armor. I want to restore it to its former glory and establish a human military, filled with my own citizens, NCR deserters, and anyone else who wishes to fight for the old flag. I would be willing to share any research I find from The Divide with you, in exchange for the Brotherhood's help with training my inevitably human military. A formal alliance would imply that we could defend each other and become a formidable partnership in this war's landscape moving forward."

"Perhaps Caesar's Legion can play a role in all of this..."

"I don't see why not", Barnaky said, "Lucius is far more progressive than Sallow was, and if my intelligence is correct he has taken a wife and may be trying to establish a Dynasty." Barnaky shrugged. "If the Legion evolves into a Monarchy, that isn't necessarily a bad thing....a well-established Monarchy is remarkably stable."

"As far as your proposal for the Divide, that is agreeable to me", Barnaky replied, "But I have one condition, and this is not negotiable, I want every last atomic or nuclear warhead found in this place turned over to the Brotherhood, so that they can properly destroyed. We have the infrastructure in place already, and I'll gladly grant verification of decommissioning, but I will not help anyone establish a nuclear capability, much less deploy one."

Hours later

“Lord-Paladin Barnaky", High Elder Gladstone, resplendent in his best ceremonial robes, said gravely as the door to the suite closed behind him. "If I might be presumptive, I suspect neither of us thought this day would ever occur, and certainly not in such circumstances. Or such surroundings.”

"Indeed", Barnaky replied, "It was welcome, but a surprise nonetheless....I had feared we could never overcome the circumstances of our departure, I'll be pleased if that turns out to be wrong. I must apologize for the robot, but I've learned over the years that it's easier to interact with others remotely via one of these constructs than through a monitor or set of speakers....and my current physical condition is quite disturbing to most to behold." Barnaky then gestured to one of the seats at the table. "Please, be seated...we have much to discuss. I must warn you before we begin, however, that we are most likely under surveillance at this very moment." He then added as he took his seat, "If this meeting goes well, we can arrange for follow-up talks in a more, ahem, secure location."

Barnaky then offered the High Elder a drink, proposing to serve it himself.

"Now then, High Elder", Barnaky said as he settled back into his chair, "Let us discuss your proposal, I'm eager to hear it."

Governor of New Houston and President of the Confederation Harris

“I certainly agree, President Harris. While His Serenity could unfortunately not make it today, the first matter on his agenda for us was ensuring mutual security and friendship for the Gulf nations. As His Serenity sees it, our fair Gulf is under potential threat from all around, and we seek to encourage peace in the region to ensure prosperity for the Keys and all of its friends. As for the pirates, Bartholomew would probably be more well-equipped to answer that question.”

It was good the Keys saw things similarly. Otherwise, progress in the South would only go backwards. He smiled widely, while also inwardly wincing. He knew his smile wasn’t what it once was.
“I’m glad His Serenity’s thoughts are parallel to ours. I believe together we can make a prosperity zone rivalling and exceeding the NCR- FZM area.” He turned to Bartholomew. “I would be delighted to hear his knowledge on the pirates.”

The younger man eagerly took up the conversation. That energy was impressive.

“Our main trade routes have been secured and the pirates have been pushed to their old strongholds in the south. Instead, our focus has now turned to the Atlantic side of the southern states, where those lawless vagabonds have been capitalizing on our growing trade in the North. As for the Commonwealth of Pennsylvania, they have proven to be good trading partners and peaceful folk, but we have yet to engage in any further political negotiations with them. The Cult, however…” Bartholomew shot a quick glance at Alexander. Harris was caught off guard by this tiny piece of body language, but he noted it carefully. Alexander having a connection to the Cult would be something to be aware of the rest of the meeting.

“They are a wild faction, certainly, though they have shown a willingness to accept our traders. The claims of… supernatural power coming out of their lands have yet to be officially confirmed, and we in the Keys suspect something more mundane is at work instead.”

“They sound like dreadful people, though their acceptance of trade is something to their credit. I’m sure you’ll remember a great deal of my people still belong to the old world Christian faith, so this cult would not be admired much by my constituents. But I’m glad you think their power is only practical.”

Harris shot a quick glance over to Cult’s delegate, whom he supposed had been the girl Bartholomew had been talking with earlier. A feeling of great unease came over him, along with an unnatural desire to…. follow. He shook it off by forcing his gaze back to Bartholomew. His wasn't sure if he believed his last words anymore.

“And umm… yes, the Commonwealth sounds like a potential ally in our goal of bringing prosperity to our part of the country. A free country such as theirs would most likely see eye to eye with us. And I’m pleased the pirates no longer threaten the gulf.”

Then Angela came back with John Lenix, the older once Dictator of the Angels of War.

"Friends! What a nice day for a war don't you think?" He enthusiastically shook the hand of every delegate in the small cluster from Texas and the Keys while making an obviously artificial bright smile that widely split his weathered face. "Our relations with the Confederation of Free Texan States are as strong and firm as ever, inseparable allies I'd say. We had your back in the last war and you've had ours ever since and we think it would be in our best interest for us to continue this policy.”

While the man’s skills in diplomatic tact were never fantastic, his goals were good. They had met and strategized together on many occasions during the Hoover War, and had dispensed with political niceties in favor getting the business of war done.

Harris smiled, but not so widely as before. “I’m glad you think so Lenix. I’m inclined to agree. Some in my nation may call to abandon hiring your men, but me and Governor Rivera still appreciate your work. You’ll be sure to get your contract renewed at a generous price.”

Bartholomew interjected. “Perhaps we could all discuss the details of a formal agreement over dinner somewhere else? The Tops is an excellent location, from what I’ve heard. We could invite the Commonwealth in Pennsylvania, if you wish, President Harris.”

“Yes today’s meeting does seem to be wearing down doesn’t it? Dinner would be a better time for all of us to discuss these matters. Inviting the Commonwealth sounds like a fantastic idea too. If anything, they can learn more of our nations and we can learn more of theirs.”

Sam Littlehorn - Free Commonwealth of Pennsylvania

"Very well, governor, let us find somewhere more suitable for our discussion. My Grand Zealot can handle matters in my absence." The Pontiff replied to Sam. She nodded in agreement and turned to her delegation and motioned them for the door.

As they exited the room, Sam spotted Reggie standing there. Sam smirked at her before she turned away and continued walking. Soon they were joined by her guards and they made their way out of the Ultra Luxe. They walked north past the Tops and towards Vault 21. Sam figured there would be one too many prying eyes at the Tops.

As they walked she turned towards the Pontiff, “I understand that your Church has had some problems with the Cult. Currently our Commonwealth hasn’t had much dealing with them aside from the odd missionary here and there.”

Her mind turned to the Cult delegates she had seen at the meeting. “Even though we are welcoming of members of all faiths, their presence to our west worries us. They are aggressively expanding, and push their beliefs on others. That is not something we can accept. Our commonwealth is built upon the belief of freedom of religion, and our most pious people will do whatever it is to protect such right.”

As they entered the Vault hotel, she allowed her delegation to proceed as she slowly walked with the Pontiff, “I am sure we can work out a mutually agreeable deal between our two nations. After all, we have surplus steel, coal and food to offer. I am sure you can find use of our resources.”

Shelby sighed as The King delivered his verdict while the Securitron kept a firm grasp on her arm, "Room arrest?" Shelby tried to raise her arm in protest but the robot prevented it, "FINE ."

Calypso returned The King's glare, "I can assure you that I will not allow any such actions, for we still have business to discuss." She looked at Alex with a smirk, "My sincerest apologies. You too seem to have brainwashed, perhaps you should also seek treatment no?" As she spoke, a man wearing black cargo pants a white t-shirt with a black coat scribbled something onto a piece of paper placing on the table and pointed at it, Calypso snatched it up. 'Guns for hire, terms negotiable', Calypso looked at the man and nodded; folding the paper and tucking it in her cleavage.

"Erm...she certainly is bold.", Brother Martin replied awkwardly, snapping Calypso's focus back to him.

"Sounds magnificent Darling , Tops it shall be, I will meet you there promptly at 8 O'clock." The meeting had been called for the day and the delegates began to shuffle about exiting the room. Waylon waited for Calypso but Reggie had joined Shelby and her escort.

"The hell did you do Shelby?" Reggie asked Shelby offering her a cloth napkin for her bloody hose.

"I stabbed that mother fuckin' NCR douche canoe." Shelby wiped her nose.

"Are you nuts? House's robots usually kill people who do shit like that," Reggie shook her head, "Not to mention the NCR is probably the biggest nation around." Sam walked by and shot her a smirk, what the...?

"That's some old school shit Sam is running with these days huh Reggie?" Reggie nodded in agreement as the robot continued past security, "Hey, what the hell? I gotta get my shit," Shelby pulled against the robot to no avail.

"You might get it back when this deal is over, just keep walking before you get both of us killed. Reggie kept quiet as tge women walked with the Securitron to The Gomorrah entrance. Reggie could see the frustration in Shelby's face, followed by dissappointment. Reggie handed over her weapons and the trio were shown to suite 253. Reggie opened their door and the robot ushered Shelby though the door. "Do us all a favor and stay put, don't do anything stupid," instructed Reggie, "I had your luggage delivered earlier. See ya later trouble."

Reggie closed the door, Shelby pushed her back up against it and slid down, blowing her hair out of her face and sighed deeply. "This is bullshit," she thought aloud wiping her nose again smearing blood across her face, screw it, take a shower and drink I guess. She got up with an annoyed groan and headed towards the bedroom. A bottle of white wine caught her attention as it sat chilling in a bucket of ice on the desk by the bedroom door. She was about to reach for it when she jumped out of her skin, "WHAT THE FUCK????" She stepped back, "Let me guess, that asshole NCR president double sent you to do his dirty work because I stuck his ignorant ass?" Shelby kicked off her heals and clenched her fists as the smartly dressed woman sat in the chair in the corner, "I already got my ass kicked once today,  lets get this over with."

Joshua Graham - New Vegas

While the meeting and incident would continue to be a hindrance and issue, for the remaining dignitaries in New Vegas - during those moments, where cards were falling all around them, nobody would notice Joshua Graham leaving the meeting. Not even mentioning to Christine why he had left.

---

@Andronicus23@Lewis251
Joshua Graham - Near Arizona border; several hours later

The soldiers of the NCR were seen crossing the invisible line that once separated Nevada and Arizona - moving from the Mojave region into the Legion-controlled territory. As expected, they had brought many of them - in hopes of beating the Legion away, and annihilating the them once and for all.

On a nearby ridge, Legion scouts would also keep watch - planning to continue the Caesar' plan of harassing NCR supply lines and men. In the hopes of bleeding them dry, before they could strike deep and then killing what remained of the enemy. While the NCR was likely expecting such attacks on their supply caravans, this time having mosted more men to keep them safe.

Before either side could react upon this thinking however, several bombs exploded near the border - while they weren't as much damaging as they were rather distracting. Many soldiers soon spreading out, looking for the attacker in question - unfortunately, these bombs hadn't been deployed by the Legion and they were also spreding around the area a noxious and thick red fog. Thanks to the explosion, it was spreading rather quickly and not dissipating away like any other gas.

It was limiting vision and worst of all, it climbed high enough above the heads of the NCR soldiers that it slowly blocked out the sun around them. Then, was heard the shuffling - as somebody was moving through the fog. But it didn't sound much of a human-walk at that. As ahead them, behind or maybe coming from the sides - started to appear figures, although they weren't of Legion nor NCR appearance.




The shuffling bodies, started edging closer to the NCR lines - not being stopped by the hoarsed words of the humans. Even when guns were pointed at them - they didn't stop. Soon enough fire was opened upon them, it didn't even hurt them - as what followed was gargled groans and growls, as the bodies simply jerked to the side. Like being played by some sick puppet-master, shots to the chest didn't stop them, arms or legs.

An NCR soldier got lucky and managed to shoot one straight in the head and bring it down. The body collapsed onto the ground, while the others continued jerking forward - then what broke the morale of the humans...was seeing the 'dead' body get back up and start shuffling towards them. By the time, any of them thought of running it was too late.

The 'bodies' soon were upon the NCR soldiers, minor glimpses here and there - as they were carved down, machetes and fire axes coming down upon the humans. When troopers started grouping together to cover all angles of approach, they had a gas bomb thrown at them - sending remains flying everywhere. Their last sight reflected upon the masks of the Ghost people' red vizors - before they were axed, clubbed or stabbed to death.

Above the ridge - as the likely two Legionnaries were debating on running or continuing watch - they'd soon hear a footstep followed by another behind them. "No need for harm...I come in peace," spoke the hooded figure, pulling its hands together in prayer - revealing the form of Joshua Graham underneath. "Magnificient aren't they? Now then...might you be so kind to show the way to Caesar?" he asked, as the NCR was torn apart near the border.

NCR Border- repelling the Ghost trader’s foolish attack

As the president Tank made its way towards Phoenix when there was a radio call from NCR border, there had been some sort of “Death cloud” attack with zombie like people making their way though. Presumably this was an attack by the “Ghost Traders” who had foolishly decided to make their bed with Legion.

“Shit... Have the troops fall back and bring up some APC’s and Tanks to deal with the zombies fucker but avoid that cloud at all cost, especially if I think it’s what I think it is...”

Will have to build a fan or something and repel it...

Back at the NCR border it appeared to the legionnaires watching the “ghost traders” attack that the NCR ground forces, seemlying lead by General Shu were ordered to fall back, seemlying unable to deal with the cloud and the zombie-like ghost people who were attacking through it.

However then several NRC’s APC lead by a double barrelled Tank rolled up, staying just outside of the cloud range they began to fire at the ghost people who had little to no defence against cannon fire or high powered machine gun or way to counter them for that matter, with the gas bombs doing little damage to the NCR mighty armour.

Ensuring they stayed out of the cloud it was a only a few minutes of prolonged fire before the Ghost trader “invasion” was repelled with the only causality being one APC that got abit too close to the cloud had to abandon by its crew.

“Mr President this is general Shu, the armoured division seems to have... destroyed whatever those things where but now we have to deal with this cloud...”

Meanwhile in new Vegas- Alex Hornsby

After having his shoulder treated and hearing about the ghost traders attack he approached one of Mr House’s securitron with an aide . “Excuse, could you have it announced that the NCR have repelled the Ghost trader’s surprise attack, despite their use of some red toxic cloud, My aide can give you details of the attack if required.”

“Also do you know where the Arctic haven Mercs representatives are located? The NCR wishes to speak to them.”

Van graffs will be busy in Utah, need someone else to deal with cloud problem.

Meanwhile (again!) Outside of New Vegas, near the legion camp

Why was chosen for this dumb ass mission? Should of gotten my lazy fucking cousin to do it, fucker doesn’t do much now after his bounty office got shut down... bounty hunting stupid fucking job.

“Legionnaires.” The ranger called out as he approached the legion camp, with his pistol and rifle holstered and a bottle of whiskey in his hand “Yes I’m real but don’t worry I’m not here to start a fight, well unless you want a fight but should probably be brawl since I don’t Housey will like us bloodying his little kingdom.”

“Anyway as much as I like to discuss the plagiarism of the ancient Rome I understand the Khan Representative is chatting with your boss, I’d like to speak to them and give them a letter..”

Rough Riders- New Vegas, Nevada


Shelby was understandably startled upon discovering that she had an uninvited guest in her suite. After all she had every reason to believe that the NCR would want her “dealt with” after the incident at the Tops, but that wasn’t the case here in fact it was quite the opposite. The woman sitting in Shelby’s suite, legs crossed with no concern for the fact that Shelby was readying herself for another adjusted her posture and interjected Shelby’s preparations with a cold methodical voice.

“Ms. Jackson I’ve not come to waste my time fighting you. I’m here to extend an offer of my services to you and your dearest Empress Calypso.” Without waiting for Shelby to respond the woman continued. “I would recommend that you beseech Robert House for a room change and an upgrade to your security. If he doesn’t want anymore blood to be spilt under his supervision he’ll listen.”

There was a break in her speech so Shelby interjected even though she was still clearly trying to compose herself. “First of all who the hell are you, and how do you know my name!?”

“Easy Ms. Jackson. No matter how obscure or foreign you may think yourself to be, you leave a trace, just like everyone else. Transportation records, people you’ve talked to, guest lists. All I had to do was talk to the right people, but let's not concern ourselves with that right now. Our real concern is that I found you so quickly. I work primarily on my own with a very small circle of confidential assets and I knew where you would be before you left the Great Lakes, and you’re making much more powerful enemies here. Imagine what they can do to you.”

“You still didn’t tell me who you were. Are you just going to gloss over that part?” Shelby was still rather frustrated, such was her nature.

“Yes actually. I am. Who I am is not important. What I can do for you however, makes all the difference in the world.”

“Ya I get it you don’t have to keep telling. You know you’re creepy as hell. Sneaking in here and skulking in the corner. You’re lucky I didn’t shoot you after the day I’ve been having. But here’s an idea for you. How are you going to help me when that House prick has me on room arrest!?”

Ignoring Shelby’s agitation the woman continued with the same level of professionalism she had when she started. It was almost as if she was completely unaffected by the emotional distress of those around her. “You’re resourceful enough to keep yourself alive for the most part. I’d still recommend attaching my own security detail to you and especially Calypso. We’ve both landed in quite the mess here, the threat of an attack is higher now than it’s ever been and I don’t put much faith in the competency of Robert House’s security. Now I’ve been instructed by my handler to provide you my services for the duration of this summit, but if you wish to delve further into the options available to you, here’s our card.

The Warleader was no longer able to hide his amusement, and threw his head back, before laughing loudly. His massive chest shivered, as he held onto the chair of Marie, with a roaring laughter sounding like a viper, hissing at a wounded prey. His eyes filled with tears for a second, before he wiped them away. The declaration of war, the fight that had broken out before them, and the tension in the air made him feel his blood rush through his veins, calling for him to join the skirmish! But Dosh-Novan knew better! He had his orders to protect the Pure-one, and while all seemed like worthy foe´s, who would make for marvelous trophies, he sated himself by simply enjoying the spectacle in front of him.
Some called out their confusion, others protested against the act of being fooled, but all Dosh-Novan could see was the beauty of the upcoming conflict, the tension that would soon erupt in an spectacle that would please Ug-Qualtoth greatly! The west would bleed first, but soon, the east would follow!

"Remarkable! It seems like these NCR-people have more balls then Brains!"

His words cut through the close silence that his laughter had left. Pushing himself from the chair of Marie, he looked at the silent guards, who he ordered with a nod to remain with Marie, before he turned around. As the first day had been brought to a closing, with this most entertaining act of violence, Dosh-Novan wanted to see the city, and more so, indulge in its pleasures. Bored to death by the dry talking, he longed for the stimulation that the rest of the day would give to him.

Making his way into the streets, Dosh-Novan rested his eyes on the sea of neon-light in front of him, before finally setting his eyes on what he had looked for. A grin appeared on his face, as he stepped towards the The Gomorrah.

With limited space on the plane, he couldnt bring his Harem after all...





Face betrayed no emotion, as the roaring laughter filled the room behind her, and she felt the bear-like hands of the Warleader on the chair. Yet in her mind, she focused herself on the matters of importance, as she didnt missed the fact that the double in front of them, had called out the Cult as civilized, compared to the rest of the amassed nations of the east-coast! A grin moved on her lips, as she watched him bleed onto the carpet, before once more turn her eyes towards Bartholomew Hemingway.

"Oh, i would be disapointed if not! I will reside here in the Ultra-Luxe Resort! I wish you a good day, honored Envoy!"

To her surprise, she found the War-leader leaving, yet would not stop him. Alone with her guards, sitting in the soft chair, she glared at her empty plate, before letting out a sigh. Waving a Waiter, she ordered with soft words, as she remained in her seat, calmly waiting for what would come.

The steak was finally brought to her and Marie slowly began to cut it, before biting it off the fork, as her face showed a short twich, as she tasted the blood of the Brahmin. Then her eyes hushed upwards, meeting the wounded Double of the presidents eyes for a short seconds. A smile twitched over the edges of her lips, before the fourteen years old girl, once more looked down on her steak.

A new convert was born!

Lucius, Caesar of The Legion - Southwest Arizona

Mounted atop his horse on a nearby hillside, with a small contingent of horsemen, Lucius watched proudly as his men hit a section of the advancing NCR line. They were methodical and precise in their actions, striking quickly at vulnerable sections and then falling back just as Lucius had drilled them to do time and time again. This constant harassment, hit and run strikes, and sabotage would be plaguing the NCR army throughout their attempts to advance into Legion territory.

Suddenly, Lucius saw as a red mist descended on the NCR column, and horrific twisted figures emerged from the cloud and began striding in disjointed movements towards the NCR soldiers. Each time one of them appeared to be struck down, they rose again, and again, and again. It was a terrifying sight, and his Legionaries wisely held back, unsure of how to react to this sudden monstrous appearance.

Lucius however was not as superstitious. As one of the few Legion men to have visited the Sierra Madre, he knew better than most what the blood red cloud was, and what it signaled.

His suspicions were confirmed when of his Decani approached with a strange individual in tow, none other than The Burned Man himself.

"Joshua," Lucius greeted as he hoped down off his horse, "That was quite a display. I can imagine the stories spreading through the NCR's ranks even now. They must think they're fighting hell itself..."

Titus Crassus, Queastor of The Legion

“Anyway as much as I like to discuss the plagiarism of the ancient Rome I understand the Khan Representative is chatting with your boss, I’d like to speak to them and give them a letter..”

The Veteran Legionaries readied their weapons for a fight at the drunken Ranger's approach, but disciplined as they were, they did not fire. Not until Titus himself gave the order,

"So, not merely satisfied with sending a clown to represent him in his stead at a gathering of nations," Titus laughed, "Kimball now sends drunken ingrates on sensitive diplomatic missions? Tsk tsk. Let me make this clear to you: if you take one more step forward towards this encampment, I will take this as a sign of aggression and my legionaries WILL open fire. With the Khans as my witnesses, I will make my apologies to Mr. House later if I must. That is all I have to say to you."

Titus then turned to Cain, and spoke to him more quietly,

"Of course, I will not prevent you from retrieving the Ranger's letter if you wish to send one of your Khans out to take it from him. The man's apparent drunkenness is...suspect however. Be that as it may, if this is some kind of trick, I and my legionaries will assist you. I would not think Kimball capable of killing diplomats, but at this point I would put absolutely nothing beyond the man."

Don Salvatore Borgio, Anthony Borgio, and Lucia Borgio - New York Syndicate

After a time of waiting and listening to the ongoing conversations, it was clear that the summit had concluded for the day and that no further substantial discussion was going to take place at the Gourmand. The Don had been able to learn at least a brief summary of the contents of the day's rather events from one of the Ultra Luxe's staff. How a nation called "The NCR" had declared war against another nation called "The Legion". These names meant absolutely nothing to him, as did their conflict. The Don's thoughts turned to other...more pressing matters. He pulled aside one of the Gourmand's waiters,

"Scusi! I want to sample your dishes. To see if the best New Vegas has to offer is anything comparable to the best my city has to offer. Ha! One of everything from the menu if you don't mind. And a sampling of each of your wines."

"That's...going to be rather expensive papa'," Antony said sheepishly.

"What good is enormous wealth boy if I can't spend it? You people take bottle caps as currency am I correct?" The Don continued, "I've got more than enough to cover the bill. And as for you two..." The Don pointed to his children, "Go out and leave me in peace for a few hours. Take in the sights."

"Grazie papa'!" Lucia clapped her hands excitedly and gave her father a peck on the cheek, "Ta ta!" And she very nearly leapt out the door and onto the Strip. Her brother followed behind her, walking in a much more dignified and reserved fashion.

Lucia Borgio

"10,000 chips worth please...just to start off."

Lucia giggled as she took the heap of chips from the Tops cashier and immediately headed for the roulette wheel on the Casino floor. She excitedly put large bets on various numbers and then clapped her hands as she watched the ball spin around and around. A crowd of curious onlookers had gathered around her, enamored by the strangely dressed woman and the amount of money she was gambling away.

"Viva Las Vegas!" She shouted, to the cheers of Tops Casino patrons.

Antony Borgio

Antony stopped his leisurely stroll down the strip and paused at a stone bench along the street, where he carefully sat down after wiping it off with a handkerchief. He breathed in the evening air and was about to reach for a paper or magazine to purchase from one of the stands when a pair of Securitrons rolled up.

Fascinated by the robotic soldiers. Antony got up and followed them,

"Excuse me!" He yelled at the robots, "Err...robots! Do you mind if I ask you a few questions? What....what are you exactly?"

Shelby relaxed some, still quite suspicious of the woman. She hesitantly took the card from the stranger offering more secure services.

*No Reasonable Offers Refused*
(Anytime, Anywhere)

Rough Riders
2ND PLT, DCO 1st Phantoms
“When you care enough to send the best.”

Contact us at this frequency 2425
Daily: 1800-0600

“Rough Riders…” Shelby sat down, sinking into the comfortable chair, “Interesting, you are expecting something to go down? I mean, Calypso will be hard pressed to accept any services or help with all the secrecy. She can be paranoid about that sometimes.” Shelby looked at the card again and pressed her lips together, what the hell have we gotten ourselves into here? “I take it your group is from around here then, seeing as you don't trust Mr. House's security?”

Shelby leaned over and pulled the bottle of wine from the ice bucket along with the cork remover, “Care for a drink?” She removed the cork and grabbed a glass off the desk pouring herself a drink, “I'm sorry, I didn't really come here for the conference,” she took a small sip, the wine bit at her split lip, “I saw this more as a vacation, a chance to let loose and I end up stuck in this room.” She took another sip of wine and crossed her legs, “How do I get ahold of Mr. House? He seemed pretty pissed when he got up and left. This is a whole new world to me out here, this NCR crap, it's all a bit more to take in than I thought.”

Shelby looked closely at the woman, “What will your service cost me? Everyone else in my group has bailed on me for the night it looks like, the assholes. But if can get in here like this, then somebody else can to, especially if I really pissed them off,” she grinned, “I just want to get out here at this point and see the town, doubt that will happen.” She gulped down the rest of the glass and glanced into the mirror, seeing the blood smeared across her face, “God I look like shit.”

Walter poured a little water over his head; relishing the relief it brought as it trickled down his face. He and his workers had spent half the day breaking down the last remaining wall of a derelict building surrounding the old University of Michigan Hospital. It had been a daunting task as the former three story wall sat in several piles, reusable bricks and windows had been neatly stacked, items that could be used for other projects in rejuvenating the area to resemble its former glory sat in a pile a few hundred feet away. The scrap had been loaded onto wagons to be taken elsewhere. Walter and his small crew looked up to the sky to see two black dots approaching with a thumping sound. Meh... he shrugged them off after a small pause. Air traffic had been consistently increasing over the past few years; it was nothing uncommon so they continued to enjoy their rest. Walter stretched out his leg, rubbing his knee, the root of the reason he was moved to the inland territories at his age... He had fallen off the wall of his borderland settlement during an invasion from a rival raider tribe; tearing the meniscus in his knee. Unable to perform at the expected speed during initial attack training, but having proved a loyal servant and protector of The Jaded Empire he was placed in The U to oversee the reclaiming of the once prosperous hospital.

------------------------------------------------------------------------------------------------------------------

Melissa and Sherry were gathering water from the river just east of the old hospital for their crops when they looked up, just as the rest of the settlement did as the two black dots cut through the sunny sky approaching from the north. They carried their buckets to the small crop area that had begun to spring up and went on about their business. It had been months of hard work to get the settlement able to produce for itself...somewhat. But harder was the transition from the borderlands to the inland life for Melissa, though she welcomed the peace and also that she was once again reunited with her older sister, she missed the excitement the borderlands provided. Both women had put in their time protecting the southwest corner on the territory and shared stories of their experiences while they worked the ground, watering the plants. The ramshackle settlement was the beginning of the next chapter in their lives as servants to The Jaded Empress.

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The two black dots morphed into vertibirds, garnishing no real attention other than flying relatively low. The busy little settlement of one hundred twenty three inhabitants went about their daily activities. The engines howled like angry Deathclaws as they banked hard descending quickly onto the old worn streets by the hospital. The sudden landing caught the people off guard; their nerves quickly rose wondering if Calypso had sprung a surprise visit as they watched nervously. When the doors of the mighty birds broke open, hissing as they lowered down. Neon green blasts erupted as black metal clad soldiers spewed outside onto the street.

Walter jumped to his feet, his eyes the size of plates as he motioned to his crew, “Run!!!” He winced as he sprinted as fast as he could to a nearby building, he turned to look back and his colleague was gone, reduced to ashes dancing on the ground in the breeze. Screams of sheer horror filled the air as the metal men ran through the settlers like they were nothing. Walter took cover, he could hear rifles returning fire, and the bullets just gave off a high pitched hum as they ricocheted off the attacker's armor. Wh...what the fu… his brain raced when a green charged put a smoldering hole in the wall above his head. He saw one of the workers fire axes leaning in the corner, crawling over he grasped it and hid in a corner behind the door. Another worker scurried around the corner, in a split second he was just a pile of ashes.

“CLEAR,” one soldier called out to his partner, the metallic sounds of their armor quieted as they exited the building. Walter exhaled while he peered out ever so slightly to see one soldier standing just a few feet from the doorway taking aim to extinguish more settlers. He gripped the axe tightly with both hands, sneaking up behind the invader and swung the axe with all of his might. “WATCH OUT,” a second soldier yelled, making Walter’s target turn around quickly as the axe just missed his helmet tearing into his shoulder. The blow broke off a large chunk of the metal soldier's shoulder pauldron, it landed with a clunk. The second soldier blasted Walter in the knee sending him crashing to the ground.

The soldier that had been struck tore the axe from Walter's hands, “Disgusting mutant, may you all be cleansed from our earth,” the soldier raised the axe and sunk it deeply into Walter's lower back hitting his spine. The mirrored lense of his helmet watched as Walter screamed out in agony unable to move his legs, the axe burning inside his back brought an evil laugh from the soldier, “suffer mutant.” The soldier stepped down on the axe as Walter struggled with the excruciating pain before taking a deep breath allowing his head to rest on the warm asphalt.

----------------------------------------------------------------------------------------------------------------------------

Their buckets of water crashed to the ground as Melissa and Sherry ran towards their makeshift metal shack. A wall of ten soldiers cut through their fellow settlers with the ease of a hot knife thru butter. “TAKE UP ARMS, TAKE UP ARMS, TA…” yelled Greg from the watch tower before being silenced by several red strings of lasers. Scattered gunfire tried to answer the attacker’s energy weapons but were met with dismal results. The two women sprang through the door to their shack, collapsing to the floor as they caught their breath.

“Rifles,” gasped Sherry pointing to a chest at the foot of her bed.

Melissa yanked out two SKS rifles; tossing one over to Sherry enabling her to pull out the ammo can. Feverishly the women loaded cartridges into the ten round magazines and rocked back the bolts readying the rifles. Several other settlers stormed into the shack’s floppy door, one a man called Pops. He was The Elder of the settlement, having seen his fair share of battles. Pops slammed his back against the door, “Grenades? Do you have any grenades?”

“NO,” Melissa yelled back over the sobbing settlers. A woman and her middle school aged child had been ushered in by Pops. Melissa looked back at Sherry and the others, she fixed her bayonet, “I got you Sis.” Before Sherry could object, Melissa ripped open the door and fired up towards the hospital emptying her magazine. She went to dip back into the shack to reload; looking at Sherry as she too was struck and melted into a pile of ashes; only her rifle lay where she had been just a moment ago. Sherry screamed out while Pops reached for the rifle. Pops went to stand upright when a metal elbow cracked him in the mouth landing him flat on his back. The metal arm tossed several grenades inside the shack as casual as could be, silencing the cries, blowing one of Pops legs off and filling him with shrapnel.

His hands shaking with intense pain, Pops managed to aim the rifle at a metal soldier as chaos ensued. The soldier kicked the rifle from Pops hands; raising his boot he smashed Pops head twice, wiping his boot off of Pops shirt.





The trek along old Interstate 94 from Jacktown to The U wasn’t bad on horseback or by vehicle, but the Brahmin convoy made the trek downright miserable for Heart, Richie and Debbie. It was his job to see that supplies moved smoothly from settlement to settlement and the trip to The U would take hours walking the Brahmin. In the distance Heart saw smoke lapping at the blue sky, Great, now I’m gonna have to smell all that old shit they’re burning when I get there.

Several hours later, the smoke had grown larger but was now dissipating; Heart paraded the Brahmin through downtown Ann Arbor past the main campus towards the hospital. When they breached the top of the hill on Observatory Street he halted at the sound of engines rising in RPM. Heart waved Richie and Debbie aside, holding his AR15 firm in his hands he cautiously tried to get a closer look. “down,” he ordered as two vertibirds rose up close to the towering twelve floor hospital and disappeared heading north.

“The hell was that about?” Debbie gestured at the dots as the vanished in the northern sky.

“I...uh...I have no fucking clue, but this shit ain’t adding up. Tie up the Brahmin and let’s go,” Heart tightened his Kevlar vest and tapped his three extra mags. It quickly became clear, this was no friendly visit. Smoldering piles of rubble, woods and ash piles lay strewn all over the place, Heart stopped, “A fucking massacre.” His eyes burned as ashes dusted his surroundings. “Rich go hit the siren,” Heart looked on sorrowfully.

The tornado siren, now used as a way to alert nearby settlements of invasion wailed relentlessly into the skies. Moments later more could heard from other settlements as the message was passed on. Going from shack to shack they looked for survivors, “OH MY GOD,” Debbie shrieked as she stepped on the remains of Pops head and vomited upon the crunch.

“Nobody, they’re all gone,” Richie spun around.

Heart bent down scooping up a handful of ashes from next to a rifle, letting them fall through his fingers, “I’ve seen this before, but it can’t be.” He walked up towards the research center where he could see Walter laying there, a red fireman's axe standing from his back, "DAMN," he quietly spoke as he nudged Walter with his toe. He jumped back when Walter coughed; a small pool of blood fell from his mouth, "Walter?"

Walter painfully turned his to see Heart's foot, "Na...North, black," his words hardly audible, Heart kneeled down to listen, "Bla...metal," Walter stretched a finger towards the shoulder pauldron. Heart reached over and picked it up to examine it the piece of armor.

“Black metal?” asked Heart.

Walter coughed again and swallowed a lump in his throat, “Yeah, black metal armo…” he winced, “armor. Two birds came from the north, killed everyone.” struggling for air he continued, “Green energy turned us to ashes.”

There is no fucking way, The Enclave were taken out in Grayditch, Heart’s thoughts broke when Walter’s bloody hand touched his boot.

“Please?” Asked Walter, “Pa put me down, please,” his eyes filled with tears.

Heart nodded, pulling out his 1911 from his hip holster, held took Walter’s chin in his left hand; putting the pistol on his temple, “Goodbye my friend, see you on the other side.” His friend’s head weighed down in his hand as he holstered his gun, gently laying his head to rest.

Robert House - Lucky 38

Mr. House paused his audio conference and articulated a news message, audible through all speakers on the Strip, in a digitally-crafted voice:

"The NCR has foiled a Ghost invasion on the Arizona border. Despite usage of 'the cloud', the NCR suffered minimal casualties.

House returned to his conference and gave a second affirming 'hm.' upon hearing Barnaky's request. "Done. I have no interest in repeating the mistakes of my deceased contemporaries. If it means that the FZM and Brotherhood of Steel can enjoy a mutually beneficial and stable relationship going forward, I will let you handle the deconstruction of nuclear facilities. That is part of your mission, isn't it? I will not interfere."

After a few seconds of hesitation, Robert took a deep breath. "We can put this all on paper and I can write up a formal document for your party before it leaves New Vegas. In fact, I'll have it drafted momentarily. Included would be that the your chapter of the Brotherhood of Steel will be allowed sanctuary inside FZM lands, so long as it does not incite any violence within my lands. The FZM will formally occupy The Divide and hand over any ICBM technologies discovered to the Brotherhood. In exchange, the Brotherhood will assist in developing the FZM's future human military and the two parties will together ensure that the NCR does not advance into the east. Satisfactory?"

Securitron Mk. II - New Vegas

"Hey, uh....bot man...I need to talk to you boss, Mr. House. Can you tell him the Arctic Haven mercenaries are here with a business proposal?"

The securitron's TV-screen became wholly blank as a response, leaving static behind, as if the artificial personality had gone into temporary stasis. Within moments, the image returned.

"President Robert House would be happy to meet with you. He has immediately reserved a room in Vault 21, equipped with a screen for a video-conference. Please let the front office know who you are and you will be led to your quarters."

After the Arctic Haven representative left, a curious man approached. "Err...robots! Do you mind if I ask you a few questions? What....what are you exactly?"

"I am a Mark-II PDQ 88-b Securitron, also known as a Rob-Co Security Model 2060-B. We have been tasked by our creator and president Robert Edwin House to protect the citizens of the Free Economic Zone of the Mojave and deliver Mr. House's vision. This particular unit is tasked with the defense of the Lucky 38 Hotel and Casino, the crown jewel of the city of Las Vegas. My programming obligates me to answer any further questions you might have."

A Sharp-Dressed Ghoul - The Tops Hotel and Casino

The ghoul immediately slipped into the door and crouched down underneath the desk. A lovely young woman had been placed in charge of the distribution of casino chips.

"Do not make a sound," mumbled the ghoul. He pointed his pistol directly toward the woman's head. "Act normal."

The poor girl obliged and nervously kept her gaze fixed out of the register's window.

"Good. Now. I want you to grab those complimentary reward bags and start filling them with all of the cash--caps, NCR dollars, Legion coins, all of it--and I want you to act normal. If a customer walks up, do your job and do not go off script."

"O-okay..." the woman mumbled, She began retrieving the bags and arbitrarily emptying out the drawers. It took a total of about five minutes for her to finish filling the bags. The replacement door guardsman had yet to show.

The ghoul scoffed at the fact that he had so easily broken the bank. All of their currently-uninvested funds had been assigned to a single guard, in a spot that existed in plain sight. "Hurry."

The woman grimaced and slid the two large bags across the ground toward the ghoul.

"Now, miss. There is a way that we can both walk out of this with roses. Take a break to the little girl's room. Feign ignorance. Keep your job. All right?"

The woman took a deep breath and shakily nodded.

"Good. You go first."

The cashier gingerly strolled out of the small vault and the ghoul followed behind her, carrying two massive bags of cash. The perfect alibi existed in the fact that this image was not abnormal. He simply looked like a man who had won big at cards. At that, he parted ways with the woman and returned to his room. The ghoul was almost disappointed. It had been so pathetically easily to empty the coffers. Nonetheless, he had made it out unscathed.

Now it was time for the next phase of the plan.

Commander Tolen (AKA: Prancing Wolf), Commander of the New Vegas outpost.
The Strip/Vault 21, New Vegas

Ryan sighed as he made his way past the tops, "What's the big deal anyway? This House guy is in that Lucky 38 tower, why not just hold the meeting there?" He shook his head in frustration, "Whackadoodle." He continued to the south end of the Strip, drinking a Nuka Cola he'd picked up off a street vendor to help quell off some of this desert heat. He pushed open the door of the Vault 21 hotel and was greeted by a blonde staff woman in a Vault 21 jumpsuit. "Hi, welcome to the Vault 21 hotel! Can I help you with a reservation, sir?" Tolen looked around the room, not really sure this was what Vaults were supposed to look like, "Uh, yeah. I'm Commander Tolen. That Securibot said something about me checking in here to attend the conference room?" She looked at the terminal on her side of the desk, "Just...one...sec....ah, here you are, sir. Follow me downstairs and I'll have you ready." She escorted him through a narrow stairwell, his eyes zooming in on her ass in her vault suit bobbing up and down with each step. He didn't even think and tried to cup her ass, prompting her to turn with all the quickness of a cobra and slap him with probably the worst blow he'd taken in recent years. "Look, buster. I don't know how they do it where you're from, but that's not how things work here in New Vegas." Tolen only gasped in pain, the vision in his right eye white from the slap, a red bruising handprint now marring his face. "I...I'm sorry. It's....been a long time and....I'm sorry..." She huffed a note of anger and continued to take him inside and stopped. "The boss is busy, see the redlight? Guess you'll need to wait until he's done." Tolen nodded, "That's fine, I'll just hang out in that pool room there.". He put his briefcase on the couch beside him. His face flushed when he looked in the mirror at the fierce glowing handmark that was harshly imprinted on his face. 'I deserved that,' he thought staring at the reflection, 'I don't know what came over me. I mean, I know it's been a while since leave, but still...I'm such a jerk....'. He tried to bury the shame and reached for a pool cue, ready to play pool. It'd been a while since he played, but he loved these Pre-War games. He also loved this Vault, it reminded him of his days as a member of the Mid-Western BoS before his desertion. In that moment, he suddenly felt the longing of home as he cracked the first shot with his cue.

Antony Borgio

"I am a Mark-II PDQ 88-b Securitron, also known as a Rob-Co Security Model 2060-B. We have been tasked by our creator and president Robert Edwin House to protect the citizens of the Free Economic Zone of the Mojave and deliver Mr. House's vision. This particular unit is tasked with the defense of the Lucky 38 Hotel and Casino, the crown jewel of the city of Las Vegas. My programming obligates me to answer any further questions you might have."

"Eccellente!" Antony exclaimed, still fascinated by them, "We don't have any robots like you back east. Robert House...I know quite a bit about him. I'm a bit of a RobCo enthusiast. My father doesn't seem much point in me tinkering with terminals and old security bots, but he's very traditional. Doesn't appreciate the value of technology in a...."

Anytony realized that he was rambling on to a robot like it was a human and cut himself off. He rather doubted the robot understood or cared at all about anything he was saying whatsoever,

"Ahem..well, anyway," He said, clearing his throat, "You said you're a security model. However I don't see any form of armament visible on you. Are you armed similarly to the Protectron then?"

The Alaskan Federation

With the meeting finally over, North still had yet to discover who any of the major players were, only that there were clear tensions among them. Multiple military types had a history some looked like they were once brothers, others enemies. One nation North recognized their insignia as something he had once spotted on the side of a gun, but they’d ran off elsewhere for now he’d sit and grab a bite to eat, hopefully Victoria was behaving she was the Clan leader for Bearhorn and merely came along for curiosity but ran off on her own. As North went to find a table, he spotted the young leader of another nation who radiated an odd aura but North wasn’t so easily spooked, he had entered the Wednesday House a building he’d call a living nightmare. A child couldn’t scare him off. North adjusted his collar on his coat and walked up to her and her entourage.

“Been an interesting day, I hear you're from a place called the Pitt.” North inched closer. “Is this seat taken? I was hoping we could talk, there’s much I do not understand of this larger world.”