Fallout: New Vegas – The Lost Courier

Kai was just about to step out of the dimly lit Vikki and Vance Casino when a voice called out to him from across the room.

"I'll be damned! Heard from Vapelwine you were still alive, but I didn't expect to see you here."

Kai turned toward the sound, his sharp eyes scanning the room. A rough-looking man leaned against a nearby slot machine, his confident smirk illuminated by the flickering neon lights.

He had a weathered face, the kind that had seen its fair share of bar fights and bad deals, and he was dressed in a patched-up duster that had clearly been through hell.

Kai narrowed his eyes. "Come again? I don't know you. What do you want with me?".

The man let out a dry chuckle, shaking his head. "Well, word is you damn near came back from the dead! Damn miracle if you ask me."

Kai exhaled sharply, rubbing his temple. "Yeah, still get a real bad headache from that."

The man laughed again, this time with a knowing grin. "I bet you do. The way I see it, you either got a golden horse stuck up your ass or an angel on your shoulder looking out for ya. Either way, that kinda luck could come in handy for a project I'm working on. You interested?"

Kai raised an eyebrow. "That depends. Who are you, and what's the job?"

The man straightened up and extended a gloved hand. "Sorry about that—reckon I got ahead of myself. Name's Steve-O Bison. Nice to meet ya."

Kai didn't shake his hand, just crossed his arms and studied him. "Bison? As in the Bison Steve Hotel next door?"

Steve's grin widened. "Yep! That old place has been in my family for years, and I aim to rebuild her. But I need your help. Them goddamn convicts took over the town and got us locked up in here tighter than a virgin at Gomorrah."

Kai smirked slightly. "Yeah, I already introduced myself to them on my way in."

Steve let out a sharp laugh. "Hell yeah! That's the kinda man we need around here—someone who takes the damn brahmin by the horns!".

Steve-O's face darkened slightly as he shook his head. "That fucking Beagle's a coward… not worth a damn thing in a scrap. Anyway, here's the deal: I need that hotel cleared out, and I need my granny's blueprints. They're locked up in the safe on the second floor. After that, we gotta make sure things stay peaceful so the townsfolk can get back to work. But first thing's first—I need those blueprints. What do you say?"

Kai tilted his head, his sharp gaze studying Steve-O. "You haven't told me what I get out of this."

Steve-O chuckled, the flickering neon of the casino reflecting in his grizzled features.

He leaned in slightly, voice lowering like he was sharing a trade secret. "A whole lot of fucking caps, that's what. There ain't a single decent casino or comfortable bed for miles, but if we bring some law back to town and get the old place running again? We'll be rolling in money before you can say 'jackpot.' "He smirked. "You know what that makes us? That makes us partners. You ever wanted a stake in a casino? Well, here's your chance… partner."

Kai shifted his weight slightly, glancing toward the saloon doors. A fresh wave of convicts wouldn't be a problem—he'd already put a few in the dirt on his way in. He figured the rest wouldn't be much tougher. And if this deal meant a steady stream of caps and a foothold in the Mojave, well… it wasn't a bad offer.

A slow smirk crept onto his face. "Alright. I'm in."

Steve-O clapped his hands together with a sharp smack, grinning like a man who just hit the jackpot. "Well, hellfire! I knew I was right about you." He dug into the pocket of his duster, fishing out a small, rusted key. With a flick of his wrist, he tossed it toward Kai.

Kai caught it midair, rolling the cool metal between his fingers. It was old, worn down from years of use, the kind of key that had seen generations pass it along.

Steve-O snapped his fingers. "Damn, almost forgot—you'll need this." He unfolded a piece of rough parchment and handed it over. It was a crude map of the Bison Steve Hotel, hastily drawn in thick charcoal lines. Smudges and faded notes littered the edges.

"That safe is on the second floor, back office. Watch yourself, though. Those bastards upstairs? They ain't gonna give it up easy. And if you see anything that looks outta place? Well… I'd trust your gut if I were you."

Kai folded the map and tucked it into his coat, giving a final nod, and left the casino.

Kai slipped through the entrance of the Bison Steve Hotel, moving like a shadow in the dimly lit ruins.

The air was thick with dust and decay, the scent of old wood and rust lingering like a forgotten memory. The building had seen better days, but it still held promise—both for danger and opportunity.

At the front counter, an old terminal flickered with a weak green glow. Kai crouched beside it, his fingers dancing over the worn-out keys. Within seconds, he bypassed the outdated security.

A quiet click signaled his success, unlocking the door behind the counter. Slipping inside, he quickly looted the storeroom, stuffing his pockets with spare ammo, caps, and anything else worth taking.

With his supplies secured, Kai ventured deeper into the hotel. The hallway ahead was dim, the flickering lights barely pushing back the darkness. Then—movement. Three convicts patrolled the area, their makeshift armor rattling slightly as they walked.

Sticking to the shadows, Kai pressed himself against the crumbling wall, his breathing slow and controlled. One of the guards wandered closer, dragging his feet as if boredom weighed him down.

Kai tightened his grip on Chance's Knife. As the convict passed, he struck fast—one hand clamping over the man's mouth, the other driving the blade deep into his neck.

The body jerked, then went limp. With practiced efficiency, Kai dragged the corpse behind the wall, out of sight.

At the end of the hallway, another convict stepped into a small shop, vanishing from view. Kai saw his chance. Moving swiftly, he followed, his footsteps perfectly timed with the groaning floorboards to mask his approach.

The moment the convict turned his back, Kai acted. The knife slid cleanly across the man's throat. He caught the body before it could collapse, lowering it gently to the ground. A quick wipe on the dead man's shirt, and his blade was clean.

One left.

Kai peeked around the corner. The last guard stood near a toppled vending machine, kicking it in frustration.

Without hesitation, Kai crept forward. A quick, brutal motion—one slash, one gasp, one body slumping to the floor.

Silence returned to the Bison Steve. Only the distant hum of the failing lights and the muffled wind outside remained.

Kai exhaled slowly, wiping his hands clean. The path was clear. Now, it was time to go deeper.

He moved deeper into the hotel, his steps silent as he approached a long, dimly lit hallway. A lone guard patrolled ahead, his movements slow and unguarded. Without hesitation, he struck—swift and precise. A quick slice of his knife, and the man crumpled without a sound.

Peering through the doorway at the end of the hall, he spotted another convict patrolling the main corridor, while a second lingered near the kitchen. The rest were sprawled across makeshift bedding, deep in sleep.

Seeing an opening, he crept forward and swiftly dispatched the hallway guard before he could react. With the path clear, he drew his silenced 9mm pistol, took careful aim, and fired. The shot struck clean—one bullet to the head, and the convict in the kitchen collapsed.

The remaining enemies never stirred. Moving like a shadow, he eliminated them one by one in their sleep. Within moments, the first floor was cleared.

He exhaled slowly, holstering his pistol, then began looting the corpses—stripping them of their armor, weapons, and whatever caps they carried. Once satisfied, he stepped into the kitchen, only to find a man tied up in the corner.

Noticing someone approaching, the man looked up. "I don't suppose you came here to rescue me? I'd cross my fingers, but my hands are numb."

He studied the captive for a moment before replying, "You must be Deputy Beagle."

"Why, yes, I am," the deputy responded with a hint of relief. "It's a pleasure to meet you. I'm in a bit of a predicament here. I'd be most appreciative if you'd set me free."

Ignoring the plea for now, he asked, "I hear you may have information on some Khans that came through here with a guy in a checkered suit."

Beagle nodded eagerly. "Indeed I do, good sir, and I would be thrilled to share that information with you—as soon as I'm released from captivity."

"I'll free you… right after you tell me."

The deputy hesitated but quickly gave in. "Okay, I'll tell you what I know. They're heading south toward Nipton, then west to Novac, where they'll meet up with someone."

Satisfied, he cut the ropes binding Beagle. "You're free. You can get out on your own—there are no convicts left on the first floor." Without another word, he left the deputy behind and made his way toward the second floor.