Life is a Highway

The road between Goodsprings and the next settlement, signs stating it was called Primm, was empty of any sort of life. The sun beat down on the cracked, battered road. I could feel the heat rising through the soles of my boots, glad I had a hat on my head, and that I did everything keep myself cool. It was a dry heat, though, so although a little uncomfortable, I actually didn't end up sweating all too much.

It was early afternoon when I approached the outskirts of Primm. Certainly far larger than Goodsprings, some of the buildings looked in rather good condition, and it had all the signs of a reasonably sized settlement. But even at a distance, something appeared off about the place. It seemed devoid of any life, just like the road I'd been walking along.

Seeing some movement to the east of the settlement, I was eventually approached by a soldier. Definitely NCR, and I could only assume it wasn't someone from the Legion. "What brings you to Primm, Stranger?"

"I'm looking for someone. What's going on here?"

He looked me up and down, and definitely noticed the weaponry I was carrying. "You're not here to cause trouble, are you?"

"No. I'm assuming you're NCR?" He nodded. "Then my problem isn't with you." I gestured with my head towards the still life settlement. "But I'm getting the feeling all isn't right here."

He gestured for me to follow, ending up on one side of the highway as it went underneath a nearby bridge. We stood at the eastern end of it, and we could see quite a few buildings on the other side, but no sign of any people. "Some convicts from the prison up the road have taken over the town. Everyone inside is either dead or in hiding."

"Powder Gangers?"

"How do you know about them?"

"Kill a whole bunch of them recently up at the correctional facility."

"Hang on, what? You did that by yourself?"

"No, a few people from Goodsprings helped me."

He looked me up and down again. "So you can handle yourself? Look, you'd better go talk to Lieutenant Hayes. He's in one of the tents over yonder. If you took out everyone at that facility…"

"Anyone in town that could help me with my problem? Long story short, shot in the head, can't remember anything, and I'm after the man who shot me."

"Anything you do know about yourself?"

"Yean, I was a courier. Mojave Express."

"There's an office in town, though whether the man who ran it is still alive, none of us can be sure. As I said, got speak to Hayes. He will definitely want to talk to you."

As he walked off back to where he'd stopped me, I walked towards a nearby row of tents. There were not many soldiers about, which made me wonder if the NCR could even consider themselves in control of the area. Considering they were not on the other side of town, and didn't seem bothered about it, I thought not.

I was approached by a pair of troopers, obviously wondering why a heavily armed man was approaching. Letting them know I was pointed in the direction of Lieutenant Hayes, one of them walked to the nearby tent and called him out.

"What do you want?" he asked, obviously wondering why a civilian had summoned him.

I figured getting on his good side would be the best idea. "The correctional facility is clear of Powder Gangers."

His jaw dropped, and a couple of the other troopers walked over. "How?" he finally asked.

Shrugging, I admitted, "I did it. With help, of course. They were bothering the good people of Goodsprings. So we decided to handle it ourselves." Gesturing towards the settlement, I added, "Seems like they're causing some trouble here. My problem is that there is a chance someone in town could give me information about myself."

"Why do you want that?"

I removed my hat, letting him see the scar. "Because some arsehole put two bullets in my head. I can't remember a damned thing from before I woke up in Goodsprings. So if someone can tell me why I was shot, it might just help me pin down who shot me."

"How the hell… the whole lot of them?" a trooper asked.

"Twenty in the facility. Another ten to fifteen attacked the town. Whole town rose up and defended themselves."

Hayes gestured for me to follow him into his tent, gesturing towards the lone table and chairs. Sitting down, placing the shotgun on the table, he grabbed a bottle of whiskey and shot glasses, filling them up before he lifted his in salute. I returned the gesture and swallowed the liquid, feeling it burn all the way down to my stomach.

"You've done us a favour there, stranger. A real fuckin' favour. But truth is, there are only six of us here."

"Five of us took the facility. Attacked them at night. Did most of it silently until it was no longer possible."

"You'd be willing to help us take Primm?"

"Of course. You scratch my back in helping me get what I need, I scratch yours."

"Jenkinson, get in here!" he called out. A few seconds later, a trooper stuck his head through the tent flaps. "Get on the horn to Mojave Outpost, Major Knight. Ask if we have permission to retake Primm and restore order. Let me know when you have him on the line."

"Aye, sir."

"Add that we do have assistance from a merc who has already helped wiped out resistance at the NCRCF. Might just help make up his mind."

"Aye, sir."

He poured me another drink, both of us just sipping at that one. Jenkinson returned within a couple of minutes holding a handheld radio. I listened into the conversation as Hayes explained the situation. Knight wasn't entirely convinced until he asked to speak to me. I gave him a brief account of what happened, but knowing that NCRCF had been taken out of their hands was enough to convince him that it was time to take control of Primm.

"Hayes, sit tight. I will send half a dozen men south. They will arrive by tomorrow. I will leave any planning in your capable hands. Knight out."

Hayes looked at me and grinned, before he stood up and walked over to his desk, returning with a roll of paper, which turned out to be a map of Primm. Standing side by side, he gestured as he spoke. "A few obvious things. We're here. This building here is a casino. This one here is the hotel. Behind that is a rollercoaster. We've only ever been able to estimate their number, but we believe there are around twenty convicts. Any survivors are likely holed up in the casino. Some of them might be armed."

"Have the convicts tried to attack them?"

"I don't believe so. We're not really sure what their intentions were, except cause havoc. Practically stopped trade moving along the 15 up to New Vegas because of all the trouble they've caused." He met my eyes. "Are you prepared to help us out?"

"With the men you have here and more coming? Of course. All I want to make sure of is that the man or woman I'm looking for is still alive. I'm prepared to wait though."

"Good. We have space in our tents considering I had half a dozen of my men taken from me to go north. Part of the reason why we've been stuck just watching these convicts run amok. They know they outnumber us easily three or four to one, but they won't attack us, aware there'd be one hell of a reprisal."

I was greeted with friendly enough faces but could understand the slight suspicion as to why this heavily armed stranger was suddenly bunking with the two troopers on their break. I learned their names and not a lot else, as I eased myself back on one of the beds. The fact I had a Pip-Boy earned a couple of comments, leaving them believing I was a Vault dweller. I explained why I had one, which ended much of their interest in who I was.

Ensuring I slept well that night, I woke up and enjoyed breakfast with everyone before I spent most of the day either relaxing, or keeping watch of the town on the other side of the bridge. Never saw anyone, and though I was interested in seeing who or what was across the bridge, I was warned that the convicts were smart enough to have lookouts, and as soon as they heard gunfire, they would all come running.

The six troopers from the Mojave Outpost further south arrived by early afternoon, no surprise that the CO, Captain Kowalski, wanted to have a word with me first. I told him the same story I'd told Hayes. I'm not sure if he was suspicious of my lack of memory or not, but I think I said enough to convince him. But it was the fact I could tell him about how we'd taken over the NCRCF that convinced him that I would be a worthwhile ally when trying to take back Primm.

In the end, it was a simple plan. We would move at midnight, two teams moving in a pincer towards the hotel. One team would focus on any Powder Gangers taking position on the rollercoaster. The other team would breach the hotel through the two entrances. That's when Hayes let it be known that the convicts had notified them about the execution of the town sheriff and kidnapping of his deputy.

To my surprise, Kowalski then turned to me. "Courier, you will link up with the survivors in the casino, check their condition, then you can assist us in taking the hotel. Knowing you look like one of those old time cowboys, we'll know not to shoot you. Your objective upon breaching will be finding the deputy. We'll focus on any convicts."

"Shoot to kill, sir?" one of the troopers asked.

"That's the order. These bastards killed our men at NCRCF, have caused untold damage to the trade route connecting New Vegas and the southern lands, and we don't have the manpower to re-open it at this time. And considering the circumstances since their escape…"

The tension increased as night fell, the troopers starting to prepare themselves, checking over weapons and armour, ensuring they had enough ammo, last minute food and drink being consumed. They tried to keep themselves loose, plenty of jokes and laughter, but there was a serious edge to everything. I checked the time on my Pip-Boy, noticing it was only a couple of minutes to midnight, when we were all called forward to assemble. Last minute instructions, the same we'd heard hours earlier, before we made our move.

We used the darkness to our advantage as there was no light except for a couple of drums with fire inside closer to the hotel. Keeping low, taking it easy, we all moved to the edge of the settlement before splitting up, alpha team heading right to loop around towards the hotel, bravo team heading left to loop towards the rollercoaster. I headed by myself straight towards the casino.

Light did illuminate the front of the casino, but there were no guards at the front of the hotel, so simply kept low and made it to the casino without being noticed. Stepping inside, I heard more than one cry of alarm as I was approached by three armed men… and a robot.

"Wait, I recognise you," an older man said, lowering the piece of wood he wielded, "I don't believe it. You're one of those couriers I sent on that weird job." When I looked at him, clearly not recognising him, he nodded. "Guess I'm not that memorable, but everything about that job was just plain weird."

"I don't remember you," I replied, removing my hat, "Because I don't remember anything. Who are you?"

"Johnson Nash, supervisor of the Mojave Express trading post here in Primm. Or, at least I was, until these convicts moved in and started their reign of terror."

"That's where I'm here to end. NCR are currently outside taking positions. You good folk stay in here. We'll return when the situation is under control. And, I'll be honest, I have questions for you, Mister Nash. I'm hoping you might be able to answer some of them."

"Clear the town of these convicts and I'll tell you whatever you need to know."

Heading outside, the shooting had already started, though the six members of alpha team had taken position by the front doors leading into the hotel, waiting for the right moment to breach. The gunfire nearby attracted attention, as I'd made it to the wall behind one of the troopers when a pair of convicts came storming out through the double doors, weapons raised and at the ready. They were riddled with bullets within seconds, collapsing to the ground, blood pooling rather quickly.

Grenades were then thrown inside, hearing the explosions before we moved in. The troopers knew what they were doing, sweeping and moving quickly, not allowing themselves to get pinned down. Gunfire erupted quickly as the convicts had barricaded themselves in a large room. That's when I was told to swing around and immediately look for the deputy and any other hostages.

With shotgun in hand, I moved off down a hallway, checking each room I passed, but all of them were empty, long since abandoned. Most had barely any furniture, maybe a sign or two of drug use, but that was about it. Turning a corner, there were doors to either side, kicking the door each time. The third door I kicked in, I actually surprised the convict inside, blasting away by the time he'd looked up to meet my eyes.

That attracted attention, hearing footsteps down the hall. Pressing myself back against the wall by the doorway, the first convict entered without checking, putting the barrel of my revolver to his head and pulling the trigger. Blood spattered on the door as he dropped to the ground, immediately sliding back and ducking as gunfire erupted, holes appearing in the thin wall.

I was patient, waiting for the next hero to step through the doorway, putting a shotgun shell into his chest, dropping that as I fired at the next one to enter. One bullet came far too close for comfort but I managed to drop him too. Collecting my rifle, I put a second bullet in one of them, as I could him choking on his blood, polite enough to put him out of his misery, quickly but carefully moving on down the hallway.

I heard gunfire all around the hotel by now, figuring both teams had breached and were now clearing the way. I only met one more convict, almost surprising each other, raising my shotgun quicker than he raised his rifle, leaving a gaping wound in his chest as the force practically hurled him back into the wall behind him.

I found the deputy behind held deep inside the hotel, thankfully all his guards having headed off to fight the troopers. He was surprised to see someone like me turn up to rescue him, but he wasn't complaining.

"Who the hell do you have by your side?" he wondered.

"NCR."

"NCR? But they weren't lifting a finger."

"Long story. Let's get you to safety first." Escorting him back towards the entrance, I suggested he join the survivors in the casino, before I returned to join the troopers. It wasn't a real surprise to find them simply mopping up the operation. The central room, which must have been some function hall long ago, was littered with bodies. A couple of troopers had been wounded, but the operation had been an unmitigated success, teams of troopers now moving along the halls, mopping up any further resistance.

"Grab the deputy?" Kowalski asked.

"He's back at the casino."

"This operation was an unqualified success, stranger," he added, "We'll mop up here. You head back to the casino, let the civilians know the situation. Once you're done, come see me back at our camp on the other side of the highway."

"Will do. And thanks."

Walking back into the casino a couple of minutes later, the deputy had already told them all about the operation, so I was greeted by plenty of smiles, handshakes from the men, and more than one peck on the cheek from the women. To my surprise, Johnson had been talking to the deputy about my situation, and though I hadn't mentioned anything to him, he pulled me aside and started asking me a few questions. Eventually, he got to the crux of the matter.

"Do you know the man who shot you?" he asked, "Can you describe him?"

"I don't know who it was. Don't have a name. But the mayor of Goodsprings, runs the saloon…"

"Trudy, I know of her."

"Good. So she managed to describe those who she believes responsible. Reckoned there was a group, most of them Great Khans, but the one in charge was a smooth talker in a checked suit."

The deputy nodded. "I know them, or I know of them. They came through here. I was doing a little surveillance before they captured me. I don't know his name, but I can tell you where they were headed. Little place called Nipton before they head further on to Novac."

"That's all I needed to know, deputy. Where I need to go next."

"I'm not sure what you're involved in, stranger, but I would be careful when approaching him. He didn't look dangerous, but I could see even the Khans around him were ever so respectful, going out of their way not to piss him off. Even the Powder Gangers treated him nicely, and they hate everyone."

Thanking him for the information, I approached old man Nash and suggested we speak in the morning, particularly as he suggested he'd have to go searching through his paperwork in regards to any information about myself. Rather tentatively, some of the civilians followed me out to see NCR troopers wandering in and out of the hotel. Lieutenant Hayes noticed and waved me over, suggesting I head over to the camp, as the CO wanted a quiet word.

Back at camp, Kowalski had practically commandeered the main tent, which amused me, invited inside to share a drink with him at the same table I'd sat with Hayes the previous day. We enjoyed one drink in silence before he cast his eyes over me.

"So lost your memory, huh?"

"Yeah."

"Well, if you managed to take out the convicts at NCRCF, and also protect Goodsprings, then come here and assist with taking back Primm, seeing how you knew how to work with a team, it would suggest to me at least some sort of military training. But I get the feeling you're not from the NCR. Your accent is all wrong. I just can't pick where you might be from."

Shrugging, I admitted, "No idea myself. I can't remember a damned thing, but when I'm not trying to remember, I seem to just know things. I mean, I can walk and talk, so that would suggest something, though the doctor who patched me up said memory and motor skills, for example, are different. But holding and firing a gun, dealing with scumbags like the Powder Gangers, it just felt… natural. Like I'd done it before. Have I had training?" I nodded. "Yeah, I'd agree with that. I just have no idea where."

"What are your intentions?"

"The deputy gave me some information I needed. Next stop is a place called Nipton."

"Before you head that way, you should join head to the Mojave Outpost further south. My CO would probably like a word with you, might even pay you in some way for the help you gave us here. It's also a good place to pick up supplies before people head into the republic itself."

"When do you plan on departing?"

He glanced at his wrist. "We'll leave no later than ten."

"Better get some sleep then. I need to speak with someone in town before leaving, so I'll grab a bunk now and get some shut eye."

A couple of troopers were already asleep when I wandered in, leaving all my gear on the ground next to my bed as I took off my jacket and boots, lying back and not surprised I found myself drifting off rather quickly. Waking with the rest of them early the next morning, I enjoyed a little cooked breakfast, their small camp at least provisioned before heading back over the bridge. A couple of troopers were positioned at the doors leading into the hotel, while I'd passed another pair obviously patrolling the town.

There was a building with a Mojave Express sign emblazed on a wall. Heading inside, Johnson Nash was already awake and apparently waiting for me. Before I asked him about any information regarding who I was and perhaps why I'd been shot, my attention was grabbed by the metallic junk sitting on one of the desks.

"What is that?" I wondered. It looked somewhat familiar.

"No idea. Someone dumped it on my desk a while back and just left it here. Sure it's some sort of fancy pre-war robot but none of my tinkering managed to get it working."

"Mind if I have a go?" I asked, as I felt confident that I could get it working. Not sure why…

"If you can get it work, it's yours for free. I don't want it."

I think I surprised us both by pulling away a metal cover, asking for a couple of small tools, and it took all of five minutes, a few pieces of wire and metal, before the robot came to life. It made a series of beeps as it woke up before lights appeared on what I would call its face and then it just seemed to hover in the air.

"Well, I'll be damned. How'd you do that?"

"Don't know, to be honest. My hands seemed to know what to do though."

"Ever seen something like this?"

"Not that I can remember, but like a few things I've experienced lately, it feels vaguely familiar, like I've seen something like it before." I met his eyes. "Want to keep it?"

"No, it's all yours if you want it."

So I looked at the robot. "Want to join me?" It made a series of beeps which I just simply understood. "Very well, you can join me once I'm done with Mister Nash here."

"Hang on, you understood it?"

"It said it would be excited to journey with me."

The old man shook his head. "I don't get it." Clearing his throat, he added, "Anyway, you were here for information about who you are. Your name, at least, right?"

"How did all this start? I seem to be a courier but… I don't know if that was my full time job or not…"

He gestured for me to follow him after he'd locked the door, finding myself in a kitchen, his wife laying a plate of nibbles in front of us, while he opened a bottle of whiskey, pouring us a couple of fingers each. "I'll admit, sonny, it was the strangest job I've ever been given in all my years of running this office. Damned fool robot was the one giving the order."

"Robot? What robot?"

"Came rolling in with a picture of a cowboy on a screen where its face should be."

"Victor? The robot in Goodsprings?"

"Never gave its name, but seems you might have already met it. Had me send a request to the Express office in Hub, for seven couriers to be hired. What you were all asked to carry was strange in itself. Playing cards, dice, chess pieces, trinkets like that. Then, next thing I know, it turns around and says it wants six couriers, not seven! Has me send on the 'corrected' order for six couriers along with a bunch of letters and numbers, like some kind of code or something!" He then lowered his voice. "I remember you though, son. You took the poker chip. And seeing that vicious scar, I can only imagine that's what you were shot for."

"You are correct, Mister Nash. I just want to know why I was shot for a simple poker chip. And wouldn't mind knowing my name, if you still have it."

He sighed. "Sorry, sonny. That whole job gave me the heebie-jeebies. Soon as you all left, I threw out all the paperwork I had, and that list included your name. But there is one thing I'll add. You were originally the seventh courier, but when it was knocked back to six, one of the couriers seemed to recognise your name. If it was something out of the ordinary, I would remember it, but… no, what I remember is reaction."

"Remember his name?"

He nodded. "Remember his name as it wasn't one I'd heard before. Ulysses. That name mean anything to you?" I shook my head. "Well, he seemed intent that you be courier six as he turned down a hell of a lot of caps to have you take that poker chip. Seemed to think something would happen to you on the way." He paused and looked at my head. "Well, I guess it did, but I'm not actually sure he was the one who had it all planned."

"But you don't remember my name?"

"Only remember his, to be honest, as it was a name I'd never seen before. The rest of your names were nothing out of the ordinary, I just remember his reaction to seeing yours."

I couldn't help sighed. "Was I a courier for you before?"

"Never met you before you arrived to pick up that chip. And I know for a fact you're not from the Mojave. Your accent is all wrong. Don't think you're NCR. You're from further east if I was to take a guess, but where exactly, I'm not sure."

I sighed again. "Just more questions than answers. Not your fault, sir. You've certainly provided more information, at least."

"Wish I knew more, sonny, but whatever you've found yourself involved in, through no fault of your own, it has sure left its mark on you and perhaps many others." He leaned forward, dropping his voice. "Something big is on the horizon, sonny. Don't know what, but I'm an old man now, seen a lot of shit through my long decades. Feel it on the wind. Feel it in my bones. I just don't know what it is."

"Thank you for the warning, Mister Nash." I finished my glass of whiskey. "Thankfully, I was able to get a description of who shot me from the deputy."

"Deputy Beagle? He's a good kid. Not the full package, but he means well."

"He told me where I could go next. For now, that's enough." I offered my hand. "Thank you, Mister Nash. And good luck."

He walked me to the door, unlocking and opening it as I stepped outside, the robot hovering above my head, just behind me. "I wish you luck as well, sonny. And I'll be honest about one thing, hope you get the bastard that shot you."

I offered my hand, shaking his in return, before I headed back over the bridge to the camp. Captain Kowalski and three of his troopers would be returning to the Mojave Outpost, and once I had collected my things, we wasted no time in making our way south along the highway. We didn't arrive at the outpost until after night had fallen, having to deal with one or two giant critters along the way. I certainly couldn't remember dealing with things like a giant scorpion, or a pack of giant ants, but dealt with them we did, though the fact the ants seemed to breathe fucking fire certainly made us all a little more circumspect. My little robot proved to be battle ready, firing a small laser weapon, which did a little damage but I figured wouldn't cause much damage to more dangerous enemies.

The outpost was situated on a rise overlooking what seemed to be most of the Mojave, the bright lights of New Vegas in the distance. There were few other lights around, perhaps one or two slightly bright spots that suggested large fires were burning. Captain Kowalski announced who I was to the pair of guards on patrol, letting me know I was free to come and go, but that if I was interested in work that would also take me closer to my destination, I should speak with Major Knight in the morning. Otherwise, there was a bar, a shop, and rooms available to sleep in while I waited.

Heading to the bar, I asked for a room or at least a bunk. Handing over a few caps, I was given a bunk and also a footlocker, that thankfully could be locked, so I could at least store all my weapons safely. Returning to the bar, I found a stool, ordered a hot meal and a drink, and readied myself to just chat away with some regulars, perhaps a trooper or two, hoping to learn one or two things while I was there.

And that's when I met Rose of Sharon Cassidy.