Ben looked over his shoulder as New Vegas shrunk behind him. He had never realized how much the game directed the player around the map until now. It didn't feel right to walk away from his destination, but he didn't want to end up as Deathclaw chow. Plus, there were people that needed help along the way. Primm was overrun by escaped convicts, Nipton had been slaughtered by the Legion, and there was an ant hill in an old racetrack. He wasn't looking forward to facing ants the size of motorcycles. The rifle on his back did help him feel a little better eventually exterminating them.
Would sugar and Borax work on giant ants? Abraxo sounded like an analogue. Maybe he could figure something out with that. A trough with water, Sugar Bombs, and Abraxo. That way he wouldn't have to go down into the anthill.
He made it toward the edge of town. It wasn't long before he was approached by a group of Powder Gangers. They still wore the uniforms of prisoners even though it had been a while since they had been 'free' for some time.
"Hey there, fish," One of the Gangers said. "What are you doing in our territory?"
Ben sighed. He had kind of forgotten about them after his time with Sunny. Well, it was time to test out his new weapons. He had no desire to play nice with the Gangers as they wanted to attack Goodsprings.
"Move," Ben said flatly.
That got a laugh. He didn't wait for them to say anything more or do more than that. Ben drew his new gun as he stepped to the side. Three went down before they knew that the fight had started. Ben stayed in motion to make it harder for them to use their dynamite. The Powder Gangers were counting on their numbers and intimidation factors to put things in their favor. Instead, the fight was over before they knew what was going on.
He looked down at the bodies scattered in front of him. Maybe packing a body with Abraxo would work too? He shook his head. That was a step too far even for him. He didn't bother looting them, letting the bodies cool where they lay. It was far enough from the town to cause much trouble, and he didn't have the skill to use the dynamite effectively.
The little outposts the Powder Gangers had arranged were in better condition than in the game. There were a few trailers along the side of the road. Unlike the game, they actually had doors and windows. It would be a little more secure if he needed to camp out.
His plan was a simple one. He would wipe the criminals out of Primm before moving on to Nipton to deal with the Legion. From there he would head to Vegas to give the Platinum Chip to House, with some concessions. The NCR could handle their own issues. Things would be a lot easier for them once this section of the Legion was handled. Killing Caesar would certainly cause chaos.
He would need to look over the map, and possibly the wiki, the next time he went to sleep. The actual world of New Vegas wasn't as contained as the videogame. It sounded obvious, but it didn't really sink in until he was walking down the shattered remains of a sunbaked highway.
It was very, very tempting to camp out for a few hours to get things arranged. The only problem was that he was still a decent distance away from Primm. He didn't feel safe trying to sleep on the side of the road. That was basically putting himself on a platter for the various beasties that roamed the area.
Ben came to a sudden stop as an idea struck. He could travel between dimensions including animated ones. Why would he need to limit himself to the ones close to his original? Dragonball had Capsule Vehicles. Hell, they had Capsule Houses. He could hop there to grab a few to use in this world and for future ones as well. He picked up his pace. The sooner he could get to sleep the better.
§
An NCR trooper waved him down as he jogged along the road.
Ben was breathing heavy as he stopped in front of the trooper. He held up a finger to signal he needed a moment. To their credit, they did wait. The lower half of their face was covered with a scarf.
"Primm is closed off to the public," The trooper said. "There was a breakout at the nearby prison. Some of the prisoners have taken over the town."
Ben shook his head, "And you guys haven't tried to stop them yet?"
"We don't have the resources," The trooper shrugged. "It was pure chance we even found out."
Ben sighed, "I can take care of it."
"What?" The trooper asked.
Ben shrugged, "I just need a bit of sleep and I can handle it."
"There are a lot of them," The trooper added.
Ben nodded, "Like I said, I need some sleep and then I'll take care of it. Could I use a cot or something? I would rather not wake up to a gecko eating my leg."
"Sure," The trooper sighed. "Head down this road," They motioned to the offramp. "There's a free camp set in the building near the camp for merchants and others. You can't miss it."
Ben gave a half-salute, "Thanks."
He jogged down the street. The building was indeed easy to find. There was a sign with a crudely drawn bed above the door. The room beyond was stuffy and didn't look like it had been used in a while. He propped open the door and the window to let in fresh air. There was no way he was going to sleep with it open. Giant roaches weren't as plentiful out here, but there were plenty of scorpions of varying size.
After a few minutes of relatively fresh air, he closed the door and window. It was still stuffy. He rolled his coat into a tube and used it as a pillow.
- CUBE
Ben appeared in his cube for a brief moment before he disappeared.
- DragonballSeptember 1st, AGE 749West City
Ben hurried through the city until he found a Capsule Corporation storefront. He jogged over to the counter to scan the selection of offered goods. Ben chuckled at the list of houses, cars, motorcycles, and even a plane. The prices were quite high, but it made sense considering the technology.
"Excuse me," He waved down the closest salesperson. "I need a motorcycle."
The salesperson was a tall, thin woman with green hair. She was dressed in a uniform that was a mixture between a secretary and a maid outfit. He wasn't going to think too hard considering this world was based on a manga written in the 80s.
"How many wheels?" She asked.
Ben scrunched his brow in thought for a moment, "Two."
"We have a selection of open and closed top units," She led him over to a display area.
A row of motorcycles cycled through their full size then to their capsule form.
"How many times can it do that?" He asked.
She raised a manicured eyebrow, "The Capsule Tech, trademark, is guaranteed for two hundred switches. They are stress tested to three, but there is a noticeable lag in the process, and the risk of a stall increases dramatically."
Ben motioned to the display area, "What about those?"
"Holograms," The saleslady stepped closer to one and waved a hand through the vehicle.
Ben nodded, "That makes sense." He stopped in front of a covered model that was completely enclosed. "Is this one available?"
It looked a bit like an egg on its side with wheels.
"Of course," She smiled a bright, practiced smile.
- Outside Primm, Mojave Wasteland, USA – 2281
Ben woke up a few hours later. He stood and stretched as his vision adjusted to the light to find he was still the only guest at the stop. The road was closed to traders from what he could recall from the plot. He pinched the bridge of his nose. Purchasing the Capsule Motorcycle had distracted him from looking up the details of the story.
"Next time," He muttered.
As long as he didn't forget again. He put on his coat then reached into his pocket. The capsule for the motorcycle was right where he had expected. All he would need to do was click the little thing on the top and it would pop into a full-sized vehicle. He took another moment to check on his weaponry then stepped out into the street. Loaded, clean, and ready to go. He had cleared Primm multiple times in the game. The town was bigger in real life, which also meant there were more escaped convicts roaming around the town.
Ben grabbed the rifle and hat from the sheriffs' house. True to form, the rifle was in need of some serious repairs. It fit easily enough in his pocket for later. Big pockets were awesome regardless of the dimension. The bodies had been wrapped in the sheets in a token effort of a burial. It was the thought that counted. The dead didn't care about such things. He set the sheriff hat on the body after a moment of thought. It didn't feel right to take it since he already had his own.
He circled the perimeter of the town clearing out the stragglers and lookouts as he went. His weapons weren't silenced, but the open air helped the sound from being too much. Gunfire was common enough to ignore for the most part. He used his new rifle to take them out at distance. They were spread too far from each other to speak. Some sort of radio or long-distance communication arrangement would have made this nearly impossible.
Ben slid his rifle into his pocket once the town was clear. After a moment of thought he turned to the building the convicts had set as their base of operations. He didn't bother with the Vicky and Vance Casino. Finding them a new sheriff would take too long. He slipped into the top floor as quietly as he could. The change in lighting nearly blinded him. He pressed himself against the wall, cutting down the time that outlined him in the doorway. From what he could remember the majority of the enemies in this casino were the standard sort while there was one guy with a flamer on the floor level.
Gunshots were going to be too loud inside regardless of if it was Ben or the convicts. He drew his knife and set off to work. Five sleeping prisoners died in their sleep to clear the top floor. He didn't have the skill to repair the elevator which left the stairs as the only option.
He made it down the stairs and had the door open only to come face-to-face with a rather confused convict. Ben had to admit that he probably looked alarming. Taking care of the ones upstairs hadn't been a clean process. He even still had his knife out.
"Who the fuck are you?" The convict asked.
Ben snapped the knife up without a word. The blade took the convict under his chin. He stepped to the side to let the body drop. If memory served there were five or six on the bottom level. Three in the big room including the guy with the flamer, one near the front door, and two roaming the halls. It wasn't a perfect count. There had been more of them outside than in the game and he was pretty sure there were fewer of them on the second level.
Two escaped convicts were lounging near the front entryway. Their weapons were within reach while they were tossing cards into an upturned hat. He watched for a moment as the two cursed and jeered at each other.
Ben slipped back the way he came deeper into the casino. The main dining and entertainment area had a couple main doors and a side one that went around the other way. He used the locked backdoor into the kitchen to get a better look at the last group. The deputy was currently unconscious tied to a half-broken chair. His nose was clearly broken, and his eye was swollen shut. The deputy was still breathing. He'd be back on his feet after a Stimpak. At least Ben wouldn't have to worry about the guy making too much noise. He froze when he saw a trio of landmines sitting on the counter. His heartbeat slowed to its original pace when he realized they weren't armed.
Carefully, he took a look into the dining room. It was an expansive area with a raised stage. The tables had been turned on their sides and stacked to create barricades. A group of eight convicts were talking around a brahman that was roasting on a spit in the middle of the room. He had to really focus on listening to hear what they were saying. From what he could gather they were annoyed the NCR had arrived since they had wanted to move on already.
This would have been the perfect time for some dynamite or a grenade. He didn't think a landmine would work as a frisbee.
Eight in the big room and two by the entry. He doubted they would be in the mood to talk considering he had just spent the last stretch of time thinning their numbers. A frontal assault on the town would have been a bloodbath for the NCR, but he had just proven that a sneaky bastard could do just fine.
A decent application of explosives could even the playing field. He wouldn't toss the landmines at the fire, instead he would use them as intended. Carefully, he grabbed all three and left the kitchen area as the deputy started to stir. He must not have been as quiet as he had thought. The deputy's swollen eye saved him from being discovered.
Ben placed a mine just inside the doorway to the side passage. He took a few steps away for a moment until it activated. The setup was pretty simple: place, press the button, and get out of the trigger range. He moved at a steady pace, his footsteps even like he belonged here. Placing the last two was a bit of a challenge. He had to make sure they were set effectively while not accidentally triggering them.
He let out a long, slow breath once they were set. Now for the hard part.
Ben wasn't wearing NCR fatigues which he hoped would buy him a moment of confusion. The only thing that really set him apart was his hat. He liked the thing too much to stuff it in his pocket. After a moment of deliberation he set it on a nearby couch at an angle to make it look like it had been discarded.
He rolled his shoulders to loosen the tension then did his best impression of an overconfident strut that thugs and people who thought they were tough commonly used. The two guys playing cards perked up at the sound of his footsteps.
"Hey," Ben called. "Where they hell is Jimmy?"
One of the escaped convicted got to his feet. He wore a pair of scratched aviator sunglasses and was missing one of his front teeth. The one still sitting had their face scrunched in confusion. It looked like the expression wasn't a new experience to him.
"Who the fuck are you?" Aviators yelled.
Ben ignored him, "I said, where the hell is Jimmy?"
"Who's Jimmy?" The confused one asked.
Ben held out his hand, "Short guy, patchy beard, looks like he fucked a Bighorner."
The Confused one snorted out a single laugh, "Oh, that Jimmy."
"Shut the fuck up," Aviators snapped at the other guy. "I don't know you."
The Confused one finally noticed that his friend wasn't joking around. Their hands drifted toward their weapons.
"I was walking around the town," Ben casually walked closer so that he was even with the gift shop doorway. "Jimmy was supposed to be there."
Aviator's shoulder to his gun-arm flexed just a touch. The world slipped into slow motion. Ben drew his pistol and snapped off three rounds before he dove into the gift shop. Aviator went down. A shotgun blast punched a hole out of the doorframe a moment later. The sound sent his ears ringing in the enclosed space.
The Confused one was yelling something now. His words didn't matter. The fact that they were getting closer was important. Ben hopped over the counter. He grabbed a discarded can and tossed it at the far side of the room. The escaped convict bought the trick charging into the room without even a glance to where he hid. Ben popped up once the convict passed and put around in the back of their head.
His ears stopped ringing just long enough to hear the mines go off. The explosion shook a layer of dust and grit from the walls. He crouched down to take a look into the hallway. The trap had worked, but he couldn't tell how many it had taken out of the fight. It sounded like both had gone off.
Someone was yelling orders. A moment later the building was rocked by another explosion as they tripped the mine in the back hallway. He waited a moment longer. The only sound came from the injured convicts.
Ben grabbed the dropped shotgun, checked if it was loaded, and stepped out of the gift shop. He stayed close to the wall in a half-crouch. It turned out to be pointless. Most of the convicts that had been in the dining area were scattered across the floor in various states depending on how close they were to the blast zone.
He slipped through the side-hallway again only to find the door to the kitchen had collapsed. The barrel of a flamer poked out from the rubble. He went back around to the main entry, taking a moment to finish off the ones still alive, and continued to check on the deputy. The guy was awake now, though the distant look in his eyes told Ben that the deputy was most likely concussed. A quick search of the area awarded him with some purified water and a few Stimpaks. He jabbed one in the thigh meat of the deputy then untied him.
"The townsfolk are in the Vicky and Vance," He told the deputy. "Gather up those who can fight and make another sweep of the town. I think I got them all, but just to be safe. Either you're the sheriff or find someone who can do it. Don't let the NCR take control. It sounds easy but they need you more than you need them."
The deputy stared at him with an underlying sense of trepidation.
"Do you want the job?" The deputy asked hopefully.
Ben shook his head, "I was never here."
He left the deputy there, grabbed his hat on the couch, and walked out of the casino. Not a bad stretch of work. On to Nipton. He had some Legion to erase.