Recruitment Drive

Now, call me naive, but I’d have thought that although the NCR were unwilling to help Primm while it was inhabited by an armed gang, that they’d be more than happy to take over once Joe had done all the hard work (and by ‘Joe’ I mean ‘Lily’).
Apparently not. Apparently that would still be too much hard work.
The lieutenant is willing to help out, but they would need more guns, ammo and troops before he’ll consider it. And to arrange that I would need to visit a near-by ranger post.
Seriously, guys? Why bother setting up next to a stronghold if you’re going to refuse to inhabit it?

 Fair enough... those concrete buildings are probably way less secure than your cloth tent.

Fair enough... those concrete buildings are probably way less secure than your cloth tent.

And who wouldn’t want to live in this wonderful, perfect little town (please ignore the festering dead bodies)

And who wouldn’t want to live in this wonderful, perfect little town (please ignore the festering dead bodies)

The NCR still seems to be a better option than the others, and that means that Joe is going to have to go back on the road.
In an effort to avoid a long hike I briefly consider reprogramming the Casino’s security robot as Sheriff, but that is would just bone-idle laziness. This is for Lily – I shouldn’t be cutting corners.
So off I go.

Nothing demonstrates the futility of hope like a post-apocalyptic playground.

Nothing demonstrates the futility of hope like a post-apocalyptic playground.

Oh, Goodie. More sand.

Oh, Goodie. More sand.

The Ranger Outpost is on the boarder between the Mojave and the New California Republic. It’s up in the hills, guarding the most accessible pass, insuring the safety of the traders and travellers from the West.
It’s also friggen ages away if you walk rather than sprint. And the sights on the way there are mostly limited to sand, sand and more sand.

The path to the outpost is largely featureless apart from an old police station that stands at the rough half-way point between the ranger outpost and Primm. As it’s about the only thing to look at, I’ve been focused on it pretty exclusively. This turns out to be a good thing; because once I’m a little closer I’m quick to notice that there is movement outside.

I spy with my little eye.

I spy with my little eye.

From up in the hills, with my silenced rifle, I’m able to eliminate the potential ambush before it even begins.
Sure, there is a ‘slight’ chance that the folk down the hill were just a happy couple out for a stroll, but that’s pretty unlikely. I hope.

Sure enough, closer examination confirms that the loiterers had been gang members, obviously using the old highway station as a base. Well, wasteland rules say that if I kill you I get your stuff, so this place is mine now!

I am the law!

I am the law!

Regrettably, the change of ownership was news to the gang members inside, who take my intrusion as somewhat of an insult.
I’ll be honest… I wasn’t missing being shot at. One nice thing about travelling with Lily is that when choosing whom to aim at, people tended to prioritise the giant blue mutant charging down on then before the scared looking girly-man hiding in the corner.
But Lily is dead, due largely to my own doing, and now there is nothing standing between me and the bullets aimed at my softy, fleshy body.

Lucky for Joe, the two inside the station were just lackeys. Without their leader they were unorganised and not really ready for someone who would put up a fight. And while I’m not going to put my life in danger for no reason, I’m happy to fight if my life is on the line.

The first raider, gabbed only in normal clothing, collapsed with fairly little effort expended. The other, in leather armour, proved to be a slightly more difficult opponent until I was able to take advantage of her unclad face.

BAM and the head is gone!

BAM and the head is gone!

With the station now firmly under new management, I’m able to loot the station at my leisure. Books, supplies, food, drugs and (of course) the clothing of my fallen foe. The leather armour was particularly welcome, since I was able to use that to patch up my own personal leather armour.

I suppose that I really should press on – but the drinking fountains still work, there are beds and I’m sick of sand. I figure that now is as good as any time to kick back and read some of these books I’ve picked up.
The first was called Guns and Bullets. Guess what it was about!

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