I eyed our tribal ‘friends’ as they escorted us into their outpost north of the dirt path, we’re currently in. Route 64, dishevelled and overgrown, still serving its purpose. Though, I regret how much my ankles would twist and turn when stepping on the crumbled asphalt.

I was tempted to sit inside my coach however I decided not to and crammed it with as much rations as possible. It was too unseemly for a leader to take a seat where most of his people were walking. This was due to how overstock our coaches were from ammunition and other war materiel and food provisions.

“Joshua, mind telling me what his name is?” I pointed at the one with the ornate headpiece.

“That may seem like a simple question, but trust me it’s harder than you think.” He paused and scratched his head. “He calls himself Nilchi. I think. The way he introduced himself makes me think that’s his role. As the ‘Wind of Words’.”

My muscles tensed and fist clenched at that. “Wind of Words? That seems ominous and slightly concerning since it sounds so similar to a similar phrase - words are wind.”

"Worry not, Leon. I think the title he gave me translates to a diplomat or something very close to it.”

I saw him gulp and heard his heart race. “You’re not sure,” I said with near absolute certainty.

Joshua jerked his head back, “How’d you know?” By putting extra points into perception using my pipboy, I’m able to hear his breathing, heart rate and every minutia of movements. I was able to glean information from all three. It wasn't too hard – a high heart rate indicates nervousness and facial micromovements tell me that you’re lying. A handy ability when I become a politician when I get a little older, I must admit.

“Saying ‘I think’ doesn’t inspire confidence.”

“Fair enough.” He took out a notebook and began to flip pages then settling into one page to which I saw the title - ‘The Tribes of East Grand Canyon’. “According to New Caanite traders going through this place, the Kaibabs are the strongest out of the seven tribes that reside in this part of the Grand Canyon.

“They control the largest amount of territory. Have the most people and therefore have the most warriors. A tribe doesn’t get this powerful by playing nice. I feel like we’re walking into the gaping maw of a deathclaw.”

“How horrifyingly apt. A dancing deathclaw is a fearsome beast.” I mused which elicited laughter from Joshua. Perhaps I could steal some ideas from the Brotherhood of Steel and employ similar gunboat diplomacy. Minus the nonsense of stealing technology. What use are wooden sticks, stone clubs and poorly made leather?

“Humour aside, let’s not despair yet.” I cupped his holster holding his auto pistol, “We could give these savages a demonstration of the devastation of a .45 bullet. What say you?” It was a show of violence with the meaning to stoke up fear amongst the Kaibabs, as a deterrent against any underhanded tactics.

“T-that’s. That’s a good idea. I could shoot a tree in front of them. That should give them pause for any treachery they plan to use against us.”

I expected more pushback and full-blown denial to carry this out. “For a missionary that spreads the good news of Christianity – a religion of meekness and pacifism, you seem almost too happy to carry out violence.”

Joshua frowned and said, “Do not mistake Christianity as pacifistic. The Christ Jesus himself drove the merchants and gamblers away from the Temple with a whip.

“As for violence, in Peter chapter 2 verse 13, the Lord instructs all Christians to submit to worldly authority.”

I scoffed, “Let me guess. I’m the one you’re referring to as worldly authority.”

“Indeed. I’ll carry out your orders to the best of my ability,” he said causing me to smile in mirthful glee. Not only was he a capable subordinate but he was also very loyal. However, such loyalty must have a drawback so I prodded to gauge his limit, "What would happen if I gave you an unjust order?”

“An unjust and evil order will convince me that you are nothing but a false prophet, who wears the skin of a sheep but is a ravenous wolf inside. Satan knows the Bible and believes that God exists. Because of this he whispers half-truths and affirms certain passages in the Bible that lead us to sin. Hence, God gave us wisdom to combat the temptations of the Devil.”

“So, you will rely on your wisdom whether to carry out my orders?” I challenged not looking forward to his answer.

“Indeed.” Such nuance of one’s wisdom was difficult to quantify and rationalise making me bite my lip. I really have to thread carefully with Joshua. I had to be on my best behaviour to make myself seem like the paragon of the Lord.

Shaking my head to rid myself of the internal torment I was undergoing. “Lieutenant Simmons!”

The ever-vigilant and reliable Jeff Simmons, my military attaché, quickly arrived. “Your orders, sir?” He said whilst saluting.

“Order two squadrons to demonstrate to Nilchi,” I pointed towards the red-skinned dancer with a ridiculous amount of face paint, “That we mean business. I want weapons that are particularly showy and destructive.”

"You mean to pre-emptively attack them, sir?" He gave me a bloodthirsty grin as I heard his heart rate accelerating.

“No.” I resisted the urge to nurse my temples and facepalm. “Just a few trees.”

“Excuse me, sir?”

“Select a few trees to demonstrate our weapons. Knowing Winnemucca's reactions to our gods' wrath, those savages will probably worship them as gods. If not, it serves as a deterrent to prevent any perfidious treachery.

“I know a few of my rangers who are willing to show off their sniper rifles. And another from an artillery squadron with grenade launchers.”

“Those will do. But make sure to include a few service rifles firing at the highest rate possible. We must show these primitives how, even our weakest weapons, can be deadly and lethal.” He clicked his feet together, saluted and then walked off.

I turned to Frank and gestured towards his magnum revolver, “How about you? You interested in showing that off?”

“Trust me, shootin’ Bessie against trees does her a grave injustice.”

“You call your revolver, ‘Bessie’.”

“What of it?” Frank grunted and pointed me a severe glare that stopped a few thoughts of teasing him.

“Geez. Defensive much.” I pouted. This was the second time I had the displeasure of seeing this side of Frank. And both times were irritating. Once when I ‘offended’ Chief Elise for failing to spot a slaver within her sight and now.

“Sorry, kid. I shouldn’t have snapped at ya. I guess I was tired from being bullied by how I named my guns.” That was intriguing but for the sake of his privacy, I decided not to pry.

It took Lt. Simmons less than ten minutes to assemble his troopers. "Joshua, if you'd be kind enough to get our escorts' attention."

I looked at the weapons Simmons gathered in a short time and so far, he has delivered. Two rangers with their anti-material rifles that shot .50 calibre bullets, members of the artillery squadron with grenade launchers and troopers with service rifles. It was surprising to see that he included 10mm pistols. I just hoped they were enough to wow these primitives.

The Christian Preacher charmed his way into a group of barely clothed warriors and got the attention of the Nilchi. I could’ve sworn I'd seen his feathers going up in a blatant mimicry of eyebrows raising. They all ended up interested as I saw a few eagerly nodding, like a child waiting for their birthday gift. Happily rushing towards our display, I commended the sheer amount of discipline shown by the NCR troopers by not flinching.

“I wonder what you said to them to enthuse them this much," I asked Joshua.

“I told them that we’re holding a tournament. The culture in these parts of the Grand Canyon values strength and skill in fighting.”

“Excellently done then. Since that’s exactly what we’re going to do. I hope they’re not disappointed we’re not using sticks and stones.”

“The weapons we’re about to show them will be an entirely new world for them.”

“Well said.” I saw the tribals gawking and pointing at the array of weapons. One of them, probably the least brightest of them all, picked the 10mm pistol and started to wave it like a catapult. I cringed at that but I was relieved when knowing the pistol was not loaded.

From the way the savage mimed the lack of string, he probably thought it was a slingshot – which the tribal peanut gallery finds heavily amusing.

“They’re laughin’ at our weapons,” Frank said whilst sporting a vicious grin. “They’ll sorely regret that.”

And indeed, they will. One of the troopers under Simmon’s command took the pistol from the tribal’s hand and promptly loaded it. He took two seconds to aim at an unfortunate tree and fired.

The burst of gunfire echoed across the forest like a vengeful banshee, causing the tribals to cover their ears and flatten themselves into the ground.

They were given a moment to gather their wits befitting the warriors that they were. I saw a few NCR troopers cracking grins and openly sneering, which encouraged the tribals to recover quickly and pretend they weren’t panicking just then.

A few more cracks later, I could still hear and see their frightful expressions. This was just a pistol too. It was making visible holes into the trees but it wasn’t doing enough damage to turn it into a stump.

The good ol’ reliable service rifle was up next. The tribals gaped at how rapid the firing rate was. Branches, leaves and twigs were filled with lead mercilessly. I saw a few were covering their nose likely to stave the pungent odour of sulphur smoking out of spent bullet casings.

I saw a trooper emblazoned with the logo of the artillery regiment, proudly displaying the two-headed bear dragging a cannon. She loaded her grenade and with a thump caused the earth, wood and stone to mulch together in absolute devastation. We had to duck to avoid the incoming hail of debris.

That seemed to silence the Kaibab warriors, a few with their mouths wide open in disbelief. Some stared at the female trooper with emotions I couldn’t quite sort out.

A ranger with a similar stetson hat to Frank walked up and grabbed his anti-materiel rifle. “Ranger Perez reporting for duty!” The old ranger took the time to bow at the Kaibab warriors. He loaded ten .50 calibre bullets into a magazine and attached that to his rifle. “You see the tree o’er there?! Well, I don’t want to!” He fired a burst of ten bullets which completely toppled a tree – to the amazement of the warriors. They yipped, cheered and hollered.

“That old man is good at showing for sure. Must be still insecure from how you’ve down fifty cazadors using his sniper.”

“He seemed to take it in good spirit. No harm done; I hope.”

“Believe me, kid. Getting shadowed by a kid young enough to be your grandchild is very humbling. He’s taking it well – yes, however, he has to redeem himself. One way of doing that is by - “

"Knocking a tree down with ten well-placed shots." I interrupted Frank. "I hope he's pleased by that," I said trying to hide my grin but looking at Frank, I may have been unsuccessful.

“You say that as if you could replicate what he’s just done.”

“You have no idea. What I showed you during that vault dive and the cazador attack is just the beginning.”

“Tis a shame we’ll just be building a mining outpost. Not much fightin’ to see your capability.”

My bodyguard was wrong. So very wrong. Just as we’ve arrived at the Kaibab’s nomadic village, populated with hundreds of tents made of skin – I hope not human. Campfires spewing smoke by the dozens, a few children frolicking in the narrow gaps between the tents.

We thought we were safe. Joshua Graham with Bill Calhoun's sage advice, managed to make an alliance with the Kaibabs. We were going to teach them basic agricultural practices which were not difficult due to the high numbers of former slaves who have experience with farming. And the rich fertile soil of the forest will do us quite good. All they ask us is to secure their western borders. They didn’t bother to elaborate why, but Bill was confident that with enough time, trust would loosen their tongues.

Finally safe from a few gruelling days in Route 64 and surrounded by newly made allies, we let our guard down.

From the dead of night, another tribe attacked the camp causing mass chaos. They targeted the cattle pens and makeshift granaries. They killed and burnt whatever they couldn’t steal.

Wails of women rang through the night along with cackling laughter.

It was chaos. The attackers ravaged their village. Some of the Kaibabs had the wits to resist and fought the raiders; even then it was rather half-hearted. I saw some slashing their stone clubs at their opponent’s legs – not their heads or chest or somewhere critical.

It got so bad I had to order Simmon’s troops and Joshua’s militia to counter-attack downing four dozen attackers within minutes, stopping the raid dead at its feet. I expected gratitude for saving them instead we were met with gasps of horror and disbelief.

The rest of the night was awkward and I dreaded talking to the savages tomorrow morning. I was tempted to hurl expletives and crude remarks about their poor performance.

As soon as I woke up, I summoned Jeff Simmons and Joshua Graham about our potential casualties from last night. I expected a high number of our civilians to be wounded or outright killed, but to my great surprise, there were barely any casualties.

However, the Lieutenant was displeased that one of his subordinates was one of the many women kidnapped last night. "Sergeant Rita is missing and first witness testimonies say she's been carried away by the raiders."

Rita? That name rings a bell. Wait, I know her. She’s good friends with that blue mutant back in the vault. I wonder why she decided to come north with us, since the mutant – I think his name was Private Owens, will probably look for her back in Flagstaff, if he’s alive.

“That’s not acceptable. We look after our own, Lieutenant Simmons. We’ll get her back and punish those raiders for even thinking of kidnapping our people.”

“I hope the punishment is proportional,” Doctor Bill Calhoun said as he stepped into my command tent. "Anyways, apologies for inviting myself in, but we need to talk about what just happened last night."

“The fact that they reacted lamely with their people being carted off in the dead of night? Their cattle and food stolen? I thought we were dealing with the strongest tribe in the Grand Canyon!” Jeff Simmons levelled an accusatory glance at Joshua.

Joshua remaining unbothered, responded, “They are indeed the most powerful. It's because of that they can afford to have their cattle and food taken."

“So they’re a bunch of pacifists who let their enemies take their resources and people away!”

Joshua and Bill stared at each other and sighed. “The seven tribes of the Grand Canyon do not have the same concept of war the NCR has,” Bill rasped as if in disbelief at what he just said. "Yet they don't have complete peace either. They're in a constant state of skirmish with the other tribes. Stealing resources and yes – women.

“The Chief of the Kaibabs even said they steal women from other tribes. Keeps maladies from inbreeding away. Of course, he boasted, how they don’t need to steal other resources though I doubt it. I’ve seen no evidence of rudimentary husbandry and agriculture. They’re entirely a society of hunter and gatherers – and reavers.”

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I figured that the Kaibabs weren't as innocent as I thought. It's good that we managed to demonstrate that we mean business. Lest they attempt to take my people away in the dead of night. All this talk of tribal culture reminded me to draft a letter to Edward. He would love these sorts of things. Anthropology was his strongest science.

But there was one thing niggling at the back of my head. Why did they act so unworried when they were under attack? Sure, they have no concept of war but being attacked should trigger a flight or fight response. “Why were they so passive in their defence? And why did they look in horror when we defended them?”

Bill was swift to answer, “Convention.”

I was annoyed that he didn’t elaborate but I sort of got it. “So, it is standard practice to let other tribes steal your women, cattle and grain? I understand that but why?” Simmons and Frank both nodded along, equally eager for the answer.

“It’s simple. It’s the unwritten rules that govern these seven tribes including the cannibals. It’s better for them to let the raid happen as is. No injuries, no casualties no deaths. But due to their warrior culture, they’re obligated to defend. No strategy – just a one-on-one duel against the raiders.”

I saw Simmon's eyes grow wide as he released a heavy sigh of astonishment. "That's completely insane!"

"It's how their society functions. And dare I say it works. It prevents inbreeding, and their warriors can receive accolades from fighting off the attackers all at the cost of a loss of resources and some injuries.”

“That’s why they were horrified when we’ve killed twenty of those raiders, and wounded the rest. The surviving raiders will violently retaliate. Even more violent than what we’ve seen last night,” Joshua said.

Even then, this was going to be a future headache. I cannot have tribals periodically raiding me and expecting no consequence. “I may sound like a broken clock by now, but it must be said again – this is not acceptable. This time I'll turn my words into action.”

Bill’s back straightened then eyed me wearily. “What will you do?”

I grinned and looked at my military attaché, “Jeff - assemble your soldiers and have them march to the Chieftain’s tent.”

“Yes, sir!”

"Listen, Leon, I advise against escalation. Our actions last night of killing those Ridger raiders - "

“We were defending them. And Ridger? First time hearing of that tribe. Do you know where they are?”

“From Joshua’s translation, they’re west from here. I highly suspect they’re in Hermit’s Rest.”

Exactly where we were going. “How fortuitous. We can hit two birds with one stone when we march west. Now, if you excuse me, doctor. I have a list of things to demand from the Kaibabs.”

"Leon, you're smarter than this. What exactly are you planning?"

“Introducing them to the concept of Total War. Don’t try to dissuade me. I won’t have allies who are useless.”

Leon marched towards the Chieftain’s tent with a host of khaki-dressed NCR troopers. The tribals parted like the Red Sea, many terrified of them with a few pointing at their guns.

“Joshua, have you told them that I lead this expedition?”

He sighed and demurely stated, "I have not. I feel like it will undermine our position if we reveal that we are led by a... A child."

“Fair enough.” I couldn’t be offended since I understood. The barely dressed guards, with purple and red paint streaked across their faces, noticed us and quickly stood to the side. “Well then. Joshua, please introduce us.”

He spoke in a strange and guttural language and the only thing I understood was when he reverently waved his hands in my direction. The Chieftain and his council of Elders, who rivalled Professor McLafferty's age, looked in my direction. A few had their mouths wide open and all looked at me with sheer bewilderment.

I learnt the ways and customs of these savages from Doctor Bill Calhoun to smoothen ruffled feathers. I stepped forward with cupped fists held to my chest and bowed. “Your Excellencies, thank you for meeting with us with such short notice," they didn't have a choice. What could they do against our guns? Nothing. I waited till Joshua translated what I said.

“Leon, they’re asking why you’ve come – w-with such a force.”

It’s a good sign they’re not questioning my age. Speaking of that, I’ll be eleven soon. Anyway, I cleared my throat and levelled the governing council of the Kaibabs with the most serious stare I could muster. From the way their heart sped up - it worked, perhaps a little too well for the elderly man who looked faint enough that he could keel over any minute.

“I have come to ask for your help in destroying the Ridgers.”

“They’re asking how you’re going to do it.”

“Simple, we march over to the west, where they are. From the description you have given the good doctor, he knows where they are.”

“And why do you need our help?” Joshua started to translate by verbatim.

“I need scouts who know the terrain. And I need people who know of loved ones who got taken by the Ridgers. I have a feeling they’re employing people against their will and I need familiar faces to get them to defect.”

“That’s all?”

I clicked my tongue and wagged my finger, “Oh no. Not all. We need to cement our alliance. I don’t appreciate crucial information being withheld from me. You told us to guard your western border, but you left out what enemy you were dealing with until it was too late. Now I’ve got a soldier kidnapped due to your negligence.”

I really felt sorry for Joshua who squirmed and fidgeted as he struggled to stand and translate what I said. Eventually, he managed to say it out loud and the tribals were not happy.

“You doubt our honour!”

“We barely knew you! You can’t expect us to give information with loose lips!” Right, that was fair enough. But I didn’t want them to know that since I wanted concessions from them.

"I don't doubt your honour. However, it's not a good start for our alliance. In fact, you shunned us when we defended you!”

“That’s because you killed most of them! The Ridgers will be provoked and their raids will become harsher, all because of your wonder weapons!”

“And will you take it? Will you endure their raids?” There was a deafening silence that thundered across the tent. Tensions remained suffocatingly high which was fine by me. A few seconds of silence and contemplative thinking will get these savages a reminder of what’s coming to them.

“You don’t have to live like this by the way. Constantly being on the move. Constantly being raided, having your women taken and your best warriors killed.” Another pregnant pause before I carried on. “That’s why I need you. I can show a whole new world of prosperity and warfare.”

“What do you want?”

“An ally. But to become a reliable ally, you’ll need to stay in one place. I can’t have you and your tribe packing off, leaving a void where miscreants can mess everything up.”

“We need to move so spirits of fertility replenish the forest!”

What nonsense was that? Oh wait, they don’t know about farming. “Joshua, remind them what you and Bill talked about. Agriculture. And frame it in a way their primitive minds can cope.”

“We need some proof if this blue powder works and if these-” The Chieftain grabbed a handful of seeds, “Works. I don’t want to grow poison.”

“You’ll have your proof after the Ridgers are destroyed. I need your help to do it.”

A flurry of talks exploded from the council and poor Joshua struggled to translate most of what they were saying. "Can you just give me a vague summary of what they're talking about?"

“They’re talking about the ramifications of destroying an entire tribe. They don’t like the precedent that would come after.”

“Are they worried that we’ll destroy them after the Ridgers?” I hope not. We are talking about strengthening our alliance. Just ignore the way we’ve marched, guns blazing, right in their Congress. They seem to value strength which is good.

“No. They recognise how serious we are in making them our friends. But if the other six tribes were to know of this, their skirmish might escalate into something much worse.”

“Total war. Tell them they shouldn’t be afraid of total war. They’ll benefit in the long term.” Joshua carried out my orders by clearing his throat which effectively got the Tribal Council's attention.

“These unspoken rules of raiding are there for a very good reason! The stealing of women from other tribes keeps our warriors strong and wards the djinns of illness and maligned births!” The elderly statement croaked. The folds in his forehead grew in number as he frowned. "You would abandon our traditions and culture just for what? Perpetual skirmish and bloodshed? Are you mad, that would cripple our society!”

I grit my teeth then nursed the panging sensation coming from my temples. Why are old people so resistant to change! I don’t remember Professor Alicent McLafferty being this bad! “It won’t be a perpetual skirmish,” I gave Joshua an annoyed gaze – since this particular mistranslation was his fault, "It'll be more like war then complete peace. No threats of retaliation. No more raids."

“But we need to raid! Our way of living depends on it! Look at the women. At least a third of them are from other tribes! About a similar number here in this August Council are descended from other tribes! We’ll be growing extra feet and fingers if we don’t diversify our breeding mates.”

That caught me off guard as I tried hard to fight down the urge to blush. From my reddening cheeks, I failed. It was a humiliating lesson that I got from Frank. The idiot called it ‘Birds and the Bees’. It disgusted me that the women he slept with, he was actually having sex! And his spies were actually passionate lovers. Disgusting.

I bit my lip and banished those thoughts away.

Right. Breeding mates? Ethical questions regarding consent and rape asides, this was a difficult issue to tackle. A practice so ingrained in the Kaibab’s culture and traditions will be hard to bat away. I wish Bill Calhoun was here. He’ll be able to give me good advice. Yet, I couldn’t. I had to prove to these people that I was the leader. Having an advisor will only undermine my leadership in front of them.

“The Ridgers will be assimilated within my expedition. I’ll have you take a gander at their women.” I felt revolted saying that. Women are not property that can just be observed and taken away. This was truly a barbaric society which desperately needed the loving steel glove of the New Californian Republic.

Unfortunately, it’ll take time. I feel like if I cramped progress down their throats, it’ll just cause conflicts in the future. I needed more time to be more established. I needed my mining outposts to start wheeling copper, uranium and gold ores to attract more and more investment from California. If I made it profitable, hopefully, they'll send me more troopers to guard my territory.

Joshua felt the same way by how he tensed his shoulders and hesitated to translate, but the ever-dutiful Christian Missionary carried on nonetheless. The elderly man was about to say something but was interrupted by the Chieftain. “That’s acceptable. The Kaibabs will give you forty men to reinforce you against the Ridgers.”

“Joshua remind him that we are only letting his warriors take a gander – a look. Surely, they have a concept of consent?”

That seemed to have ruffled quite a few feathers, both metaphorically and literally as I saw a few yellow-dyed feathers falling off from the raging elderly statesmen. His cheeks turned purple as he convulsed and yelled, "That is unacceptable! Can’t you see Chieftain! They’re going to destroy our culture!”

“Enough! We will help them. I'm starting to get tired of being raided. With the Ridgers dealt with in the west, we can afford to settle down this far south from the Great Basin. We won’t have to deal with those cannibalistic Tlaxla and those damnable Blackfoots.”

“Careful son. Your mother is a Blackfoot!”

“Which you’ve stolen against her will! Can’t you see this is wrong!”

“Your mother and I loved each other! Not in the beginning, but she and I knew our duty.”

"Right, Joshua. Take a couple of minutes to regain your breathing. I don't think the rest of this conversation needs to be translated." I gave him a pat on the back. It was relieving that the current Chieftain had our back. Shame about his father though. I dread to think if he was the Chieftain. Oh, wait. We have guns and they don't. Not much of an obstacle then.

It took the convoy an entire day to restock on provisions – courtesy of the Kaibabs. Turns out they can make clay jars to preserve berries and meat and bury them underground. No wonder they were not fussed when the Ridgers stole a few of their cattle and grain.

They’ve already perfected the art of preservation, now they just need to plant the wheat seeds and well... They’ll grow wheat and we’ll buy it from them to grind it into flour and then sell the bread to them. I can’t have the Kaibabs be fully self-sufficient otherwise they’ll learn that they no longer need us.

I waved over to Jeff Simmons, “Sergeant Rita will be rescued, Lieutenant. No man or woman left behind.”

“Yes sir.”

"Now signal the convoy onwards." And with that, we're officially marching west to Hermit's Point. The forty Kaibab warriors didn't get along well with the Derricks so I've sent them forward under the command of Ranger Perez to act as our eyes and ears.

“We already have one tribe pacified. And we’re about to pacify the other. Five left to go.”

“What exactly is your plan of assimilatin’ the Ridgers? They’re a lot bigger than the Derricks.” Despite Frank being a meathead driven solely by lust, he does make a good point.

“If we make them one of us, they’ll outnumber us. And they’re not just slaves too. They’re hardened warriors who think rape is okay,” I ruminated out loud.

“They’re going to be a problem. Which is why I think it’s a good idea for a few to join the Kaibabs.”

“Thank you for your approval, Frank. Lord knows I need it after the thrashing and scathing feedback Bill gave me.”

Frank scoffed then spat at that. “Ignore that pacifist fool. For all his academia, he’s not exactly smart.”

“He is smart. Just not pragmatic. And too idealistic and principled. I admire that about him.”

“Whatever.”

I took the time to survey the vast wilted greenery all around us. Despite the devastation of nuclear war - nature and God finds a way. The occasional squawk of sparrows and circling of vultures made the trip mesmerising. The peace and quiet of this expedition were a stark contrast to the paralysing tension when we entered the forest; preparing to be attacked by the Kaibabs.

My peace and quiet were rudely interrupted when two people, Joshua and Winnemucca barged straight into my coach, whilst Frank whistled and pretended not to notice. “What seems to be the problem, gentlemen?”

“Joshua is calling my gods false! He’s convinced nearly half of my tribe with his nonsense, and I want you to put a stop to it!”

“Winnemucca, you don’t understand. The Lord is bigger and more powerful than mere rocks and trees.”

“It’s you who don’t understand! Don’t make my gods less important! They’re everywhere from the dirt to the wind!”

Goodness me. I forgot about this. The series of unfortunate events and everything else, I've completely missed how Winnemucca and his tribe believe in an animistic faith where everything in nature is a god. It was troublesome. We were going to the Grand Canyon to mine minerals, which they’ll most likely cry foul about.

In all honesty, it was in my interest for them to convert to Christianity, as soon as possible.

“Winnemucca, what exactly is wrong with the message Joshua is preaching about?”

“He’s calling my gods false-”

“I get that, but can you prove him wrong? Can you prove that your god resides within – say that pebble over there?”

Winnemucca scratched his head and hummed. Joshua moved to speak but I waved him to be silent.

“I-I cannot. But he can’t prove his either!”

"His words and deeds are written in the scriptures – in a book called the Bible," Joshua said whilst holding the Bible in constant awe. To be fair, it looks remarkably well-preserved.

"Just because it's written on a piece of paper doesn't mean it's true!”

I knew I had to de-escalate this fast without offending him so I said, “Winnemucca, think long and hard. When did you ever feel at peace with your gods? Do you honestly feel their presence?”

The bulky tribal hesitated and trembled. Maybe his entire world was breaking right in front of him. I had to move in swiftly to build it back up again. “Let me tell you our Lord and Savior. Who’s greater than the material. Greater than the rocks, the soil, the wind and water. Greater than all of us. In that book, Joshua’s holding, he died a barbaric death so we could all have an eternity of peace with Him.”

“B-but the spirits are also so great by providing order to the world.”

“Is the world truly ordered? Why are some areas stricken with curses?”

“Because of evil spirits and djinns, they harbour the air around some areas, making people sick.”

“What if I tell you those curses are not caused by evil spirits? But simply due to radiation.”

Winnemucca contemplated what I said as he grunted for me to continue. “Radiation is when high bursts of energy cause our body to fall apart.”

“Are you sure this ‘radiashon’ is not a tool of the DJINNS?”

"No. One way of stopping the radiation from harming our body is by taking these pills," I took out a few pills of rad-x. "These are made by man, not by spirits. If you take these; you won’t be sick from radiation.”

"I'll take a few. If you don't mind me, I'll be going on a soul-searching journey. I'm a pretty good tracker, so I'll be back."

When he was out of view I sighed in relief. “That went well.”

“You’d make a good preacher, Leon. You proselytised without offending. Even I struggle with that.”

I only smiled at that flattery. I didn't bother to tell him of my ulterior motives though. Greed is one of the grave sins that I needed to work on.

“I thank you again, Leon, for giving me such a good opportunity to spread the Gospel amongst your people. More people now call the Lord their saviour, all thanks to you.”

Before I could respond I heard a few cracks of gunfire. By instinct, I grabbed my service rifle, ran out of the coach and headed straight to the front. "Sitrep, Lieutenant!"

"Our scouts are skirmishing with the enemy. I suspect they're the Ridgers."

“Damn it all. They know we’re coming. This is going to make the siege harder.” A few whistles rang out followed by a thump. “Arrows! Get the civilians inside the coaches, Lieutenant!

“Joshua, organise your militia and form a protective cordon across our convoy.”

I didn't bother to listen to them affirming their orders since I began running like a maniac, with my reliable shadow – Frank, right behind me. “Doctor Calhoun! Have some of your people help with making the square!”

“Already ahead of you, Leon.” He pointed at the coaches forming a protective square with the brahmins secured in the middle, safe from arrow fire.

“Excellent. Now that we have them secure. Let’s go on the offensive.”

“Leon! You’re the leader! We can’t have you charging off without reinforcements!”

I grinned at Bill. He was starting to understand me. If there’s a fight, I’ll need to be in it and absolutely nothing was stopping me.

I sauntered over to a group of troopers hiding within the square. “Soldiers! What orders do you have from the good Lieutenant?” I asked since I didn’t want to undermine Jeff’s orders.

“To hold our position and open fire once they become more visible.”

It's too defensive but sensible. Only the rangers along with their Kaibab companions are skilled enough to engage in the forest.

"Frank, do you still have those heat vision goggles?"

“Way ahead of you, kid,” He took out two pairs of goggles, fastened one to his eyes and tossed me the other.

“Hey watch it! These are rare!” My admonishment slid away from Frank, to my enormous annoyance.

Donning the goggles, the world turned violet with hints of red which resembled a crystal humanoid form. Perfect. I licked my lips and felt my breathing hasten in pure excitement.

I looked at my stats according to my pipboy.

Strength (+2) 3

Perception (+2) 4

Endurance 2

Charisma 8

Intelligence 10

Agility 6

Luck 3

The combination of putting +2 in perception along with vault-tec aiming assist meant I could pinpoint enemies with frightening perception. The goggles were just a cherry on top and a way to ward off uncomfortable questions regarding the extent of my ability.

Well. We’ve got work to do.

“Let the harrowing begin!”