I let everything pass by as a blur.

We reached Novac and I still talked to everyone, including Arcade, and also had some fun in bed with Cass. And then slept on the same bed with Arcade again, who I ended up spooning. Again.

Come (heh) next day, Cass had us heading for Mojave Outpost. Along the way, we were almost attacked, but I pre-empted them long before the enemy could fire the first shot. I needed the experience, so six Viper Gangers dropped without their grey matter.

Our route certainly passed by Wolfhorn ranch before passing through Nipton, but we stayed in Novac the night prior so that we won't stop by Nipton or trade with Wolfhorn. I didn't pay much attention to either of them anyway.

As with all else, they all blurred, as it does to a troubled man. And as we reached the Mojave Outpost, thereby completing my [Helping Hands] (Radiant) to escort Arcade, which was then followed by him leaving, and with me losing his companion perk.

I was focused on earning money and getting those damned implants before everything else goes to shit. Leveling up was a close second.

So, I gathered all my stuff, sold a fuckton of sarsaparilla in the Outpost to nine different traders and merchants who could afford the price, and left my brahmin Sheriff in Cassidy's care until I could get him back.

It was almost midnight by the time I left.

Which meant my ammunition will replenish and I could abuse it to sell it right there, on the spot, to the resting weapon merchants.

But no.

Instead, I stealthily rushed my way to Vegas, passing through Primm, not even stopping by Sunny and Goodsprings, just straight through Sloan, then Junction 15 Railway, past McCarran, and into Gun Runners. All the while dodging or avoiding anyone's attention. By the time I reached there, it was an hour before sunrise.

I sold all 300 bullets worth of each .50 MG I had. Armor Piercing, High Explosive, Incendiary, and Standard. 1,200 individual bullets that got me 21,000 not including the sale of their magazines. Which got me an additional 6,000 for haggling with the bot. I didn't pay attention to the fact I could haggle with a robot, I just traded in my 10mm bullets and the magazines which got me 3,000 and I left for Crimson Caravan and sold them 240 Sunset Sarsaparilla, a feat that cemented me as the guy who got the recipe on how to reproduce the pre-war sunset sarsaparilla.

I simply ignored the fact.

My next destination was Usanagi's clinic.

I currently have 39,900 caps and $2,000 NCR.

The discount I've earned with my actions, as Julie have promised, was 20% on any and all purchases with the Followers of the Apocalypse here in the Mojave.

I entered the clinic and asked for the doctor.

She was asleep when I came and just recently woke up. I conversed with her on the discount and about the implants she has available.

I rushed into here, not knowing if they had the implants, but I was lucky they did. Some people were capable of paying for the implants and so they had to have some stock. It just so happens that they have a stock for every single one of them.

The doctor advised me to not take every single one of them in the same day but when I asked if it was possible to take all today, she said yes. But I would have to pay extra 1,500 caps because she will be using a fuckton of drugs to keep me from dying. I would be unstable, but not dying, so I took it.

Then, I have to sign a waiver that the Followers of Apocalypse will not be held liable... blah, blah, blah, next of kin/beneficiary; Sunny Smiles, Rose of Sharon Cassidy, blah blah, blah, Jeffrey.

I lied down on the table naked, all my items on the far corner of the room. Even my pip-boy.

Today, nine implants will be surgically placed into me even if it was not advisable.

I only had 7 in Endurance.

But that shit was a game mechanic.

Usanagi, knowing that my body might not accept it all, procured things, things she said that I was going to pay an additional 1,500 caps for, as she had previously stated.

I was purged of everything in my body before being healed of other complications, and then was pumped with gallons of nutrients, then I was drugged to prepare my body for surgery.

The first to go was the neural implant to connect any and future implants to my nervous system, next was the SPECIAL implants followed by the Phoenix Monocyte Breeder and then the NEMEAN Sub-dermal thingamajig.

I only knew that was the order because I was briefed while I signed the documents certifying that I paid certain amounts, what would go to Sunny and Cassidy; should the operation fail, should a complication arise, and on and on.

Before I knew it, I was unconscious and the operation went underway.

-Memento Mori-

I woke up.

But I don't feel diff-

Something stirred within me as I laid on the bed.

In two seconds, my sleep vanished and everything came back clear, cleaner, detailed, and more stark than my normal sensory perception.

The operation was a success.

In fact, it was working too good, I can't help but describe it like it was the feeling of fine control over my entire body. It was the distinct sensation of having felt an atrophied muscle; that sensation of working out and the burning soreness that you feel afterwards.

But that wasn't exact the sensation I'm feeling. I was feeling the stage after that, where I was healing and the soreness was a glorious feeling that slowly ebbs away, leaving behind stronger and tougher muscles.

Without any more self-reflection to delay the inevitable, I sat up. A motion that which I already could do smoothly before, was made even smoother now. I turned and landed on the floor, and as I stood there... I tensed.

I felt every single muscle fiber contract better than I could before. With a simple exhale, I released my tension as best I could.

My implants feel like they're working well enough.

So I began equipping items.

Anti-materiel rifle, check. Weathered 10mm Pistol+, check. Switchblade, check. Canvas sling bag, check. Back pouch, check. Stimpacks, check. Ammunition, check. Sarsaparilla crate, check. Ammunition box, check. Backup extra-thick linen sacks, check.

Miscellaneous bits and bobs, check.

Pip-boy... there, check. I booted up the pip-boy and went to the Perks subsection. When I saw the list, I nodded to myself. I checked the skills list, and saw it to be also good.

I was satisfied and went out the room.

The operation took a day but it was enough. I've already ran out of caps so I need to sell some of my bullets and magazines to the Gun Runners, as well as sarsaparilla to the Crimson Caravan, again. On my way out, I took a small time to chat with Usanagi and bought some meds with my NCR bills; to ensure implant integration she says. I just shrugged it off.

Time is of the essence for me; I need to be prepared to take on hordes of Lobotomites, venomous cazadores, cyber-dogs, stealth-cloaked venomous nightstalkers, handyman variants, robo-scorpions, robo-brains, and whatever else the Big MT has in store for me.

I got to the company's compound and looked for some of their caravans to trade the sarsaparilla. One guy wanted to rip me off, trying to say my sarsa were only worth 6 caps apiece. I left the bitching bastard and found another who would buy at 8 caps. Ten minutes later and I have 192 caps.

I was in a hurry. I could've sold the sarsa for 11 or 10 caps apiece with the angle that they are fucking pristine and they have a chance to get a star bottle cap. But I didn't push. I was busy thinking how the fuck I will survive Big MT. My thoughts of the future led me to the Gun Runners where I sold almost all of my ammo and magazine besides 80AP rounds of .50MG and the rest of 10mm rounds.

On this transaction, I haggled. I didn't still care I was haggling with a robot, much less succeeded. The haggling got me 9,900 caps on the bullets alone. The .50 mags got me an extra 3,100.

I was satisfied.

Those were big numbers.

I mused to myself the average wealth a caravan guard possessed, as I walked towards Atomic Wrangler.

A caravan guard could typically earn 150 caps a day depending on how well the route they were taking. That 150 caps could be subdivided into their equipment maintenance, food, and meds. Other miscellaneous things would involve luxury items like alcohol and carbonated drinks.

If you're lucky, you'd be successful in repelling would-be attackers before you could spend more than 10 bullets. A single 10mm bullet costs somewhere between 3 to 5 caps each. Say you fired ten rounds; that would already be 40 caps.

Good thing then that there exists the idea of contracts and that people will always be people.

Some caravan owners will be happy to pay half the costs of your ammunition on top of the agreed payment. Some would even give free food or drinks once a day along their trade route.

That was in the NCR though. You don't usually have one or two mercenary guarding you through your trade route. Because in the NCR, town-to-town trade routes were well traversed that hardly anyone could dare face a dozen or more caravans traveling together.

On places like the Mojave though, since the Desert Rangers got absorbed into the NCR Rangers, you'd be hard-pressed to go anywhere alone with your pack brahmin.

That's why some caravans choose to go with other caravans for strength in numbers.

Then we get to the complications.

See, people are dumb.

But a person? A person can be smart.

Some raiders or fiends would pose as mercenaries or caravan guards and would set up an ambush or betrayal at some point in their route.

Those even more ambitious would pose as an actual caravan and will go with other caravans then commence betrayal when they got their guards down.

I should know this, because I witnessed it happen myself.

... I rambled again, didn't I?

Anyway.

I made my way into the Atomic Wrangler... their street was still filled with uncleared rubble and trash. When I entered the establishment, I began talking with the Garret twins.

I tried to talk them into buying my sarsaparilla, but wouldn't consider it, saying they got a contract with Crimson Caravan as their only supplier. So, I walked away even if I knew that I could convince them.

Now I know why the Van Graffs were here.

Since the NCR could barely enforce the law in the wasteland, especially after their losses back in Helios One and the Hoover Dam, the Crimson Caravan has to get the Van Graffs.

They were here to enforce some of the contracts and to set up shop as well. The Gun Runners were mostly focused on combustion weapons. The Van Graffs, though, they deal in energy weaponry.

I shook my head at the wasted opportunity.

... On the other hand, I could go get the Boomers. And maybe it's also time to see if I could stop by Raul's shack.

-Memento Mori-

The shack was definitely there.

But there isn't a brahmin or any planted fruit, like those two banana yuccas if I remember right.

I knocked on the door.

"Hello? Anyone home?"

I waited.

There wasn't anyone and the door was locked with a different lock so I couldn't pick it open with my current tools.

Ah, well.

Time to visit the Boomers.

-Memento Mori-

Whenever I jogged, my AP would never drop and will in fact regenerate. And the speed would be near under or over half of my running speed, whichever I decide.

So, I jogged over to the Nellis AFB chain-link fence gate.

WHILE BEING SHELLED BY ARTILLERY.

You know, usual Fallout stuff.

Just like in the game, I was stopped and then something something blah blah wait for someone blah blah blah then I was welcomed inside with three different people pointing three different guns at me while the woman in combat armor took point.

I reached Mother Pearl who talked to me about honor, duty, explosion, honor, fate, destiny, savage outsider, explosion, nag-nag-nag, guns, bombs, airplanes, more explosion; you know, some educated Boomer stuff us savages wouldn't understand.

My pip-boy spazzed the jazz of quest-related notice.

[Volare!] (Special)
A handy-dandy... noteBOOM! *explosion* cue faux-concern *faux-gasp* Oh no, it seems the Boomers are encountering troubles. Help them, quick!

Even the quest agrees with my mood.

This is all a chore.

I said my piece to Pearl and then went on to do stuff with their people. The solar panels aren't broken yet, thankfully. And the ants were yet to reach here. So I went around trying to impress the children... which was quite easy due to the simple fact that I gave each of them a sarsaparilla.

I noticed that some of them were trying to do something with their farm equipment so I helped them there. They were going to till the land, a job that was considerably easy, even when I did not have implants.

Now that I think of it, this was going to be a safe place for me to test out my new body modifications.

-Memento Mori-

My new found SPECIALs allowed me to effectively work the land they were going to use for farming.

I found out that they weren't using caps as their currency here in Nellis. Something that brought a little joy in me. What they used though, was something that I have been able to abuse for all it's worth; bullets.

When I finished all the task in need of helping, they tried to pay me with bullets. I denied their payment, citing I have more than enough on me, and then promptly traded with their quartermaster all 1220 of my .50 MG bullets and their magazines.

You know what I got in return? A rebreather, two Mister Gutsy, and another audience with Pearl. And the day hasn't even ended.

Pearl began another tirade of nagging, honor, explosion, savages, fiery explosion, and then the Sky.

I haven't even done that much yet.

But it turns out, they needed those bullets I gave them to snipe the lurking scouts around Nellis AFB. Nothing too fatal they said, just warning shots they said.

...and I gave them a lot of high caliber special bullets.

You know, just some warning shots using High Explosive ammunitions.

Normal Boomer stuf-

Pearl was still nagging.

She said it was time. And I knew that she meant the B-29 Super Fortress. I was asked to help and I was given another rebreather... I don't know why. But I can't say no to a total of two rebreathers.

I searched for Loyal, found him, and talked about how to raise the B-29. I already knew about the Ballasts so I suggested it. It just so happens that they have well-preserved ballasts and I could carry them.

Then, I began to talk him into the danger of lakelurks.

-Memento Mori-

Even before I could see the actual lakelurks, I already knew they were there. Just a few feet off the surface of the water, swimming. The good thing about this though, was that I have a full crate of jury rigged grenades.

These are grenades that can either be detonated remotely or by the egg timer I both possess.

Its creation was rather simple. Get a grenade, a sensor module, a remote detonator, an egg timer, a few wonderglues, and something to power the sensor modules. Either small electron charge packs or energy cells, radioactive but not enough to endanger everyone. Some mircofusion cells will be extremely radioactive when they explode, which I'd rather not.

We wouldn't want the dam to go radioactive, do we?

So, with great precision, I threw the grenades and let most of them skid off the surface a few times. The throws I did were not too powerful nor too weak.

Throw too powerful and it might sink down on top of the plane or even beyond it. Throw too weak and it might not reach where I think the majority of the lakelurks are.

My aim was the cave below the grounded boat and to collapse it into itself with the help of said boat.

Fifteen grenade throws later and I pulled the detonator.

I didn't wait for the air bubbles to reach the surface. I just started randomly chucking another set of grenades between me and the collapsed cave.

I started the timer and waited.

-Memento Mori-

A few seconds later and I felt the muted explosions reach me even as I dived. I timed it so that I wouldn't accidentally rapture my organs. It wasn't too strong, but I still felt it even then.

I opened my eyes.

The water was clear and there were little to no fish, what I did saw were the listless bodies of dozens of mirelurks; slowly floating up without life.

Wasting no time, I swam forwards.

In my previous life, I wasn't capable of swimming.

In this life, I still wasn't.

So, why risk it?

The rebreather.

Most people, as I've seen before my jump, only react harshly when they know they can't breathe. And, knowing I can breathe, can very well try with confidence.

Still, why risk it?

The waters are relatively free of lakelurks and if I don't try to learn how to swim now, when will I ever learn?

I dived deeper until I saw the B-29 bomber clearer. A little re-orienting and I was swimming straight for it. The water was cool and lightly irritated my eyes, but I ignored it. The swim was slow due to the fact that I was lugging two ballasts behind me.

A few short moments later, I was attaching ballasts and swimming away.

Midway, I was surprised to hear a slightly muted screech... but I was underwater; it sent alarms into my whole body.

My neck snapped back to look on the collapsed cave.

I saw the boat, and newly collapsed stone pile, roll down and kick up particles into the water; from it's opening, I witnessed a dozen lakelurk rush out and hover around the cave entrance.

I heard another screech and they all slowly turned to me.

I didn't wait for another screech.

I swam the fuck away.

-Memento Mori-

I hauled my naked ass from the water and ran to the sweet sweet pavement 10 meters further away from the water.

There, I grabbed my anti-materiel rifle and turned around in a pirouette and fired on the first head that spawned.

Repeatedly until I ran out of bullets, I popped the heads of lakelurks that tried to follow me, and I dropped the rifle diving for the 10mm and began precision firing.

Five shots later and I was left with twelve lakelurk bodies.

I waited for a full minute, holding my steady breathing. When there were no heads that popped up again, I breathed in deep, thankful that I have a rebreather, and made my way over the bodies to start pushing them into the water. It was very easy but their hide were slimy, and also probably smelly as fuck.

After I finished, I began drying myself and pulled my clothes from one of the sacks I bundled in case I bit more than I could chew. It wasn't until I went to pick the anti-materiel rifle that my hearing popped back.

Then I noticed, I could hear again.

I touched my ear and, sure enough, I was bleeding.

Keyword; was.

Now I am back to hearing things.

And I didn't even notice.

Maybe my ears popped when I was still in the water and the lakelurks screeched. Or maybe when I swam too fast to the surface and the pressure popped my ears... Now that I think of it, maybe I popp-

I scrambled for the emergency-quick-release on my rebreather and heaved my guts onto concrete below. My balance followed and I was down on three limbs, my right hand clutching my heaving chest.

My body was back to the state that it was when I came here. When I first arrived in Goodsprings. But nothing about this is Good. I feel like shit.

I fumbled over the sacks and searched for the ballast detonator, found it, pulled the trigger, and took all my equipment with me.

I began my hazy pain-filled body-jolting jog towards Nellis, wincing every step of the way, bouncing from foot to foot like a wind up toy; jerk-ish movement that always staggers me.

I didn't care.

I.. just... ran.

-Memento Mori-

I regained consciousness and saw that two Mister Gutsies were lifting me by the armpits toward their medical Quonset hut.

My mind was still hazy but I didn't pay it attention anymore than the fact that I was still blacking out. One moment I was being hauled, another I was naked, and finally I was being prodded.

And then blank.

Then I was awake again, this time I was alone.

A dozen of things were hooked up to me and I think there's another fuckton of drugs and stimpacks involved in keeping my body stable.

I think there's an ECG and some other thin- FUCK!

Headache hit like a super mutant with a super sledge.

Then, my body started getting those tingling small electrocutions again; those rapid on/off switching of the nerves on my whole fucking body.

I finally noticed I was strapped tight into the bed.

A deep sigh was unconsciously let out.

Would be rather rude if I broke everything after they tried to heal me. So, for the first time since Goodsprings, I was going to sleep without the aid of a pip-boy... joy.

-Memento Mori-

I was awake again.

Without any lapses in my perception, I was awake.

There weren't anything hooked up to me nor was I strapped to a metal bed or a gurney.

I slowly stood up, surprised that my pip-boy was still with me, even when naked. I checked the date and time; only six hours since I started the quest in raising up the B-29. The implants paid off.

My effects... I looked around the area. It was a single solitary Quonset hut, furnished with only the bed and the bedside drawers. At the foot of the bed were my items and equipment. At the far side of the wall, opposite the bed's, were the two Gutsies I was given.

They look like they were deactivated, but were actually on stand-by. A feature that the quartermaster told me they found on all Mister Gutsies they have.

I dressed my self and strapped everything back on me, leaving nothing behind, not even the sarsaparilla crate that I always strapped to my lower back every time, with the ammunition box right above it.

The anti-materiel rifle can be slung on either of my shoulders while the rest of my stuff were on my canvass sling bag or the back-pouch. The 10mm pistol can be on my hip or thigh holster. The switchblade, of course, is on my belt.

And even with all of that, I still feel that my duster-coat was still fluttering with the wind.

If anyone were to stop paying attention on my duster-coat's windless flapping and begin to seriously criticize me; they'd find me having far too much belts, leather straps, and slings.

I'm pretty sure I cut an imposing figure even if I look encumbered with all these things on me.

The surprising thing though, is that I can still run at full speed with all these and then add some more.

I stopped my musings with a shake of my head and went outside.

-Memento Mori-

"You have helped us child. From now on you will have a place among us, always. It is with great Honor that I present you the opportunity to use one of the Flight Simulators whenever no one is using it. It is with great Hope that I allow you this, knowing that you may someday use the skills to blast any Savages apart..."

I tuned out the speech being given to me.

"... take this as another token of our appreciation. A proof that you are one of us."

[Volare!] (Special)
A handy-dandy... noteBOOM! *explosion* cue faux-concern *faux-gasp* Oh no, it seems the Boomers are encountering troubles. Help them, quick!

+320xp

I was handed the Boomer Flightsuit or something and accepted it with a nod.

"Thank you." I said, after the oh so many words.

"You are welcome child. Now go, and may you shoot apart any savages who cross your path."

I promptly left and got to the the mess hall where the flight simulators were.

Not one person knows how excited I am.

And I barely know I am excited.

Even if I just recovered from another tango with near-death, I know I'm excited to at least train using Vertibirds.

I asked for help and got myself stewing up when at least six people allowed me to use the one I was assigned to.

Soon enough, I was going through the basics and then trial combat against Communist Fuckers.

I was waiting for the part where I simulate Vertibird piloting but I persevered and went for anything they offered.

I was engrossed with shooting down everything in sight using my old self's memories of playing games and shooting, igniting my passion for all things game even if I do piss poor at some genre.

But this simulation, this feels all natural and I was possessed with the feeling of determination; beat their fucking high score.

-Memento Mori-

It was midnight when I decided enough was enough.

I started sometime at 1800hr and stopped at 0014hr.

I didn't know they had unlimited fuel and ammunition loaded on the simulation I was playing, but everyone was impressed I sat down for six hours and mowed down chinese aircraft and wrecked ground targets without dying once. I certainly got my wings clipped trying to doge enemy fire for far too many times. But I always got to return to my hangar for repairs.

In one sitting, I took down 116 Chinese Fighters and accomplished 307 assorted ground objectives/targets. All in six hours and one sitting.

And my actions seem to have inspired some of them when I came down from the pod.

I was greeted with cheers!

Then, of course, being the kind man that I am, gave everyone free Sunset Sarsaparilla. They threw me a party for it.

During the impromptu party, someone claimed they can beat my six-hour marathon and that the bet was something lost on me but eh. Not like anyone of them can endure not taking a piss or holding their hunger while seriously crunching tactics and pulling off maneuvers for six hours.

My excitement with the thing just wore off.

I'm sure, when I wasn't trying to secure my skills I'd gladly run a marathon for days on end.

-Memento Mori-

I got out, finally.

I have successfully acquired enough skills to pilot a vertibird; have enough goodwill with the boomers to request their aid when the time comes; got two Mr. Gutsy and two rebreathers; and a place to fall back to when shit hits the fan too early.

The question now is how much time until I meet the Lone Wanderer, if I interpreted "She-Who-Wanders" correctly, and then convince her to take me as a follower or vice versa... It's odd thinking that I am an NPC to someone else when I deliberately got to go on this jump. It's also weird that I haven't met my Jump-chan. Maybe that was one of the effects of taking that specific drawback that fucked me up.

Though I didn't get to insert as Courier Six, I did get the Courier perk to help me through this bullshit.

I just hope to not become Courier fucking Six.

-Memento Mori-

SPECIAL:
Strength: 8
Perception: 8 + 1
Endurance: 8
Charm: 8
Intelligence: 8
Agility: 8
Luck: 8