New Vegas - Outskirts

The city in the distance could barely be called that. It looked more like a ramshackle town in the ruins of a once grand city. While the reaches were bastions of hope in a dying civilization, the freelander towns were hives of scum and villainy. Their laws being survival of the fittest, dirty unfed populations fought over the scraps of those in power. At the very least that's how the doctrine read. Jack had seen the underbelly of the reaches, and he had some doubts. As they got nearer to town they slowed their throttle down and rolled into town awash in the stares of the unwashed masses. Cro spoke up first “where two captain, I don’t like the look of this place” Jack inwardly sighed. He assumed there was a reason cliche sayings were a cliche. He looked ahead and saw what looked like the type of building he was looking for. “Three buildings up on the right, looks like a tavern” tavern was maybe too nice a term, shit hole was probably more apropos, but the sign had a big ass beer on it so that was probably a good place to start. They rolled their pegs up to the sign slowly, not unaware of all the states they were getting. Warhorse and the like might be common in these parts, but their pegs and armor made them stick out like a sore thumb, and the reaches weren't much liked in the freeholder cites. “Sug, Rook, stay with the bikes, Xyla, Cro, on me.” Jack stepped off his bike, his hand never too far from his blades. A dirty man with a grey beard and a ten-gallon hat glared at them from next to the door. A halberd propped against the wall next to him, he spit some brown mucus from between his brown teeth but didn’t say anything. Jack walked through the rickety doors into a smoke clouded room. His faceplate being down, it immediately kicked in its air filter as he looked around the room. Avoiding the many stares of the rough looking crowd, he noticed what he was looking for. He walked towards the table with the biggest, baddest looking guy in the room. Nearly as big as Big Sug, a black mohawk, and tattoos covering his body. As Jack started walking towards the big man, most moved out of his way. One mean looking man with an eye patch stepped into his path “Where do you--” a quick headbutt, a loud crack and the one eyed man dropped to the ground clutching his broken nose. As he approached the table the big man stood and stared him down. Jack opened his face plate and spoke. “You going to get the fuck out of my way so I can sit and speak to your boss or do you need a broken face as well?” It was like the room held their collective breath waiting for the ball to drop. The big man snarled and took a step forward when a shout broke the quiet. “Mal, step aside. Let the man through.” Mal looked over his shoulder at the slightly older man sitting at the table with his back to the corner. He nodded and moved aside. Jack moved passed and took Mal’s newly vacated spot as Mal stood behind him glaring down. They both sat in silence for a moment or two before finally the olderman spoke “The names Reynolds, how can I be of service” Reynolds was graying at the temples and had a short beard. He had a build like a boxer, and his clothes whispered of unspoken wealth. He was clearly a man of power in this small shithole. “I need five long range mules with extra feed, in return I have five prototype warhorses fresh out of the stables” Reynolds studied him for a moment. “That’s not enough, what makes you think I even want these warhorses?” Jack chuckled. “I’ll make it very clear, I’m not negotiating” The noise of chairs being pushed back created a racket as several thugs stood. Xyla and Cro’s hands strayed near their weapons. “If you don’t want them, suit yourself, we ride out of here in five” Jack stood and began to walk towards the door, his indifference filled the room like a fog. “Stop” Xyla and Cro’s hands fell to their weapons, but Jack simply turned and smiled and waved them down. Reynolds looked slightly miffed, but the interest burned in his eyes. “Lets talk.”

Unlawfully taken from Royal Road, this story should be reported if seen on Amazon.

Rook was a little intimidated with all the states they were getting. His eyes roared every person and every roof looking for the shit before it hit the fan. Sug on the other hand was a pillar of nonchalance. He had propped his giant self against a Peg and was picking at his nails. His buster propped near him within easy reach. “Calm down” he said slowly. Rook was almost startled when he realized Sug was speaking to him. Sug kept speaking in a low voice so that only Rook could hear. “Our duties take us in and out of places like this all the time, so relax.” Sug waved a hand around them “They are like pack animals, they smell fear and fear strength” As Rook glanced around, he realized that might be true. The people stared, but not all were glares, several were looks of fear” And those with glasses were in small groups, but while they had hungry eyes he could tell they wouldn’t approach. He looked at Sug again, a giant man with a giant weapon, scarred black armor, he showed no fear. He was a scary mother fucker, good thing he was on Rook’s side. As he was just beginning to relax, he heard the motor on several horses headed their way. It wasn’t the sleek out of the pegs, but a rumble like thunder as five dirty men pulled up near them. Rook’s hand dropped to his Mace, as they stepped off their bikes, two had crossbows, and the other three had gladiuses. They looked like they were spoiling for a fight when the Tavern door kicked open and Jack stepped out. “Rook, Sug, get the gear transferred to the Mules, on the double.” For the first time Rook looked at the horses and realized these were more upright, and were meant for a long range ride versus the typical horses. They also had extra cans of feed and more storage bags on the saddle. As he and Sug grabbed their gear, they stepped toward the Mules. The five men stood for a second, but another big man that had stepped out behind Jack gave a whistle, and they parted like the red sea. They finished loading with Cro and Xyla on their flanks. He heard Jack speak to the big man. “Don’t try to follow us, I wouldn’t want there to be any thought that you didn’t bargain in good faith” Jack chuckled and dropped his face plate, mounting one of the Mules. They all checked the feed gauges and rev their engines and roared out of town. Behind them, they missed seeing the hideous smile that came to Mal’s face.

Reynolds sat there with his drink as his stable mechanic gave him a report. “They’re goddamn beauties. Sleek lines, engines faster than anything we have seen before, never seen the like” Reynolds smiled, as soon as the five had reached the perimeter of town he had been told about them and their horses. He wanted them immediately and had actually been talking to Mal about putting a hit team together when that Jackass had walked right in, and right to him like he knew him. Reynolds was certain he had never met the man before, so it had made him a little uncertain at first at how he pinpointed him. But he couldn’t show weakness in front of his men. Instead the man had traded these brand new gorgeous horses for some old shitty long range mules that were a dime a dozen. Something stuck like manure, but he had purchased stolen goods before and he wasn’t one to look a gift horse in the mouth. “You put on the tracker, like I asked?” The stable master nodded and answered. “Yes sir, hid it behind one of the fuel gauges, they certainly won’t know it's there and we can find our mules within a hundred feet.” Accross the room Mal walked back in. “The team is ready” Reynolds hand came to a steeple as he thought. That stink still filled his nostrils and something about that nameless man made him inwardly shudder. “On second thought, reach out to there other bosses, let them know we will share the spoils. I don’t want a team, I want a goddamn army” Mal smiled “you got it boss” Reynolds felt better, the trade was a good one, but he couldn’t help but wonder at more riches they would lead him too.