The journey was quicker than I thought, always expect the worst when travelling through the Mojave. Legion patrols seemed lighter than usual, are they distracted by something? Still, killed one Legion Explorer. Clean shot through the chest, destroyed his message. I took off his mask, they don't look how I expect them to look. It's difficult to picture them as humans under that gear. Maybe they think the same about others.
James had made it to Freeside with a minimum of worry, remnants of the Legion's advance still littered the land. Piles of bones lay on the ground accompanied by scraps of NCR armour. Nothing worth salvaging of course, that had been taken long ago when the bodies still had flesh to rot. Crosses dotted the horizon, marking the site of a former settlement now overrun. James didn't want to think about that much.
Could the Courier be one of these skeletons? Nobody remembers what they looked like, so it's possible. To have come so far and still end up here... or anywhere.
Then he was there, Freeside. The gate loomed ahead of him much, sturdier than in the past. Occasional bullet holes and scorch marks scarred the exterior. Securitrons at the gates turned away all who could not enter. Houses lined the street leading to the gate. Before the Legion had come, most provided a home for wastelanders who had nowhere else to go. Who could not afford to live in Westside or Freeside and feared trying to make it anywhere else. Now they were packed with refugees who could not enter the safe haven of Vegas.
James did not stop for them, their struggles went unanswered. Instead he continued onto the gate and presented his documents. The doors opened into another world, a word where the Legion did not live.
These are the people living in a dream world, with their houses and their food and their walls and shelter. It's not real to them, they don't know what it is like out there. This place is a bubble just waiting to burst.
Time for the Wrangler, once considered dangerous and seedy, now a safe gathering place. James opened the door and strode into the bar. The 'friends' were immediately obvious. They didn't look like residents. They knew what it was like out there. James strode up to them, "You are the ones I was instructed to meet. One of you bring me up to speed."
