Boone folded his arms.
"So, what’s the plan?"
Six’s smirk returned.
"As soon as the Helios One station is scavenged for everything originally involving the ARCHIDES II, I’ll have the right systems to activate and make more of my own orbital death laser."
Boone let out a low whistle.
"That’s one hell of a trump card."
Six nodded, his mind already racing with possibilities. The Brotherhood of Steel would kill to get their hands on sothing like this, and the NCR would throw a fit if they knew what he was sitting on. But the real question was—how could he integrate this into his existing arsenal?
Rebecca nudged him playfully.
"So, are you gonna be a responsible adult with your space laser, or are we gonna have to hold an intervention?"
Six chuckled.
"Hey, I promise I’ll only use it when necessary. Mostly."
Raul sighed.
"Great. Boss, you’re turning Goodsprings into the biggest military force in the Mojave, jefe."
Boone glanced back toward the ragged people of Freeside.
"Might not be the worst thing. NCR can’t—or won’t—fix this place. House doesn’t care. If we’re sending supplies, maybe it’s ti we do more than that."
Six’s smirk faded as he took in the desperation around him.
Boone had a point. He’d been so focused on building up his own city and preparing for threats that he hadn’t stopped to consider just how bad things had gotten outside his walls.
Rebecca saw his expression shift and sighed.
"I know that look. What’s running through that big head of yours?"
Six crossed his arms.
"If Freeside’s this bad, how much worse are the outer settlents? If I have the ans to fix this, shouldn’t I?"
Boone nodded.
"You always talk about playing the long ga. Maybe it’s ti you start shaping the Mojave into sothing better, not just defending your territories."
Six exhaled, glancing down at the C-Finder in his hands. He had a city, a powerful military force, and now, an orbital weapon system. Maybe it was ti to start thinking bigger.
He turned to his crew, a determined gleam in his eyes.
"Alright. Let’s start by checking in with the Kings. I want to know exactly how bad things are and what we can do to fix them."
Rebecca grinned.
"There’s the man I married. Warlord, businessman, and now humanitarian. What’s next? King of the Mohave?"
Six smirked as they began walking.
"One thing at a ti, babe. Let’s see how much of a ss we’re dealing with first."
As Six and his crew made their way toward the School of Impersonation to et with the Kings, the weight of their conversation lingered in the air.
Boone was right; the Mojave was in disarray, and Six was starting to see the cracks in his self-imposed isolation. His attention had been so focused on his expanding empire that the rest of the wasteland had gone unnoticed—until now.
The School of Impersonation was as dilapidated as the rest of Freeside, but it still had a certain air of resilience about it. The Kings, the group of gangsters who controlled Freeside, had managed to carve out a semblance of order in a place that thrived on chaos.
Their leader, the King, was a man who wore Elvis-inspired clothing, and his crew operated with a certain swagger that ca from being the only semblance of authority in a lawless land.
Boone gave a curt nod.
"If anyone has their pulse on Freeside, it’s the Kings."
Rebecca smirked.
"And if they’ve been pocketing our supplies instead of handing them out, we’ll give them a friendly reminder of who’s footing the bill."
Raul adjusted his hat, his tone dry.
"Friendly as in talking it out? Or friendly as in the kind where we start making examples?"
Six shrugged.
"Depends on what we find out."
With that, they moved toward the King’s School of Impersonation, the de facto headquarters of the gang ruling Freeside. The closer they got, the more eyes followed them. Whispers rippled through the crowd as people recognized Six and his crew. Even in the chaos of Freeside, his reputation carried weight.
As they entered the fort, Six noticed the familiar mixture of defiance and desperation that perated the atmosphere. The Kings’ base wasn’t much better off than the streets they ruled. The worn furniture and the sounds of a few kids playing in the background painted a picture of survival, not thriving. The sll of stale cigarettes and unwashed bodies filled the air, a testant to the tough lives most of these people had been living.
As they reached the front desk of the school, the guards tensed but didn’t move to stop them. One of them, a younger man with a ragged leather jacket and a shock of ssy blonde hair, looked Six up and down before jerking a thumb over his shoulder.
"Boss is inside. Been expectin’ ya."
Six raised an eyebrow.
"That so?"
The guard just smirked.
"Word travels fast when soone rolls into town in a damn moving fortress."
Rebecca chuckled.
"Yeah, subtlety isn’t exactly our strong suit."
Pushing the doors open, they stepped into the dimly lit hall of the school. The scent of old wood, cigarette smoke, and cheap booze lingered in the air. At the back of the room, sitting behind a desk cluttered with old, faded magazines, was the King himself, and his ever-loyal cyberdog, Rex, at his side.
His hair, a wild mass of black curls, shimred under the dim light as he looked up from his paperwork. He gave Six a small nod as he gestured to a chair across from him.
"Well, well, if it ain’t the big man himself. You’ve been making waves in the Mojave, haven’t you, Six?"
The King’s voice was a low drawl, a touch of humor in it despite the rough atmosphere, flashing his signature Elvis-like grin. He knew Six well enough—an entrepreneur who had managed to turn Goodsprings into a power in its own right.
"I figured we’d see you sooner or later. Things ain’t exactly peachy out there, are they?"
Six gave a small nod in return, his eyes scanning the room. He could see a few of the Kings hanging around, so playing cards, others cleaning weapons. Despite the chaos outside, they were content in their little kingdom.
"I’ve been busy, as usual."
Six said, taking a seat.
"But I’m not here for small talk. We need to talk about Freeside. And the Mojave as a whole."
The King’s eyebrows lifted slightly, intrigued. He folded his hands on the desk and leaned back in his chair.
"Go on. What’s on your mind?"
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