Six turned back to Dwayne.
"What's the situation? What were you guys doing out here?"
Dwayne sighed, rubbing the back of his neck.
"Our assignment was to investigate reports of raider activity near REPCONN. It turns out there were far more raiders than we anticipated. HQ decided against sending additional personnel due to the risks involved; you know how stretched thin we are. They ambushed us and took out half our squad before we even realized what was happening."
Cassidy crossed her arms.
"Typical. NCR sends patrols into a hellhole with barely enough firepower to handle a bighorner attack."
Dwayne chuckled bitterly.
"Ain't that the truth."
Roger scoffed.
"Yeah, I know how much the brass values its people."
Boone spoke up, his voice cold.
"If this was an important target, they'd have sent more. This was just them throwing bodies at a problem and hoping for the best."
Cassidy sighed.
"Well, good thing we showed up. But what now? We just leave 'em here?"
Six glanced at the bodies. These weren't just some random gang of raiders—this was a coordinated attack. The way they set up their defenses, the ambush tactics… it smelled like something more organized.
Something worse.
He looked at Boone, who had already reached the same conclusion.
"These weren't just random thugs."
Boone muttered.
"Something's going on here."
Six nodded, then turned back to Dwayne.
"Where were you headed next?"
Dwayne hesitated.
"We were supposed to check on a Caravan wreckage near Grub 'n' Gulp. There've been… rumors."
Cassidy tensed, her fists clenching. Six caught the look in her eye. This wasn't just another job for her—this was personal.
He turned to his crew.
"Alright, change of plans. We head to the wreckage. If there's something going on out there, I wanna know now."
Rebecca hopped down from the War Bus, still grinning from the fight.
"Good. I was getting bored."
Boone checked his rifle.
"I'm ready."
Cassidy nodded.
"Let's finish this."
Six thought for a moment, then looked at Dwayne.
"You and your men up for moving? We can get you somewhere safe. Or do you have a fallback point?"
Dwayne glanced at his soldiers. They were battered, low on ammo, and exhausted, but they were still standing. He nodded.
"Yeah. The closest NCR outpost is Camp McCarran. We can make it there if you get us out of this kill zone."
Six glanced at Boone, Raul, Rebecca, and the rest of the crew.
"Alright then. We'll take you as we check the wreckage. Let's get moving before more of those bastards show up."
They piled into the War Bus, bringing the injured Ranger and the surviving NCR troopers inside. The heavy engine roared to life, and with one last look at the carnage behind them, Raul drove forward into the frozen wasteland, leaving the battlefield behind as they set off toward the next destination.
Something was waiting for them at that wreckage.
And Cassidy was damn sure she was gonna find out what.
The War Bus rumbled through the snow-covered wasteland, the frozen landscape stretching out endlessly. The team's eyes were fixed forward, but there was an unspoken tension in the air.
Everyone knew that something bigger was at play, and the wreckage near Grub 'n' Gulp wasn't just some random target—it had meaning, something deeper, something personal for Cassidy.
Cassidy was leaning back in her seat, flask in hand, but there was a sharpness to her eyes now. The usual smirk had faded, replaced by a hardened look as the memories of her old caravan wreckage resurfaced. She was clearly processing something, the weight of the past pressing in on her.
"How much further?"
She asked, her voice low, like she was trying to keep something buried.
Six glanced at the maps on the War Bus's dashboard, eyes scanning the roads ahead.
"About fifteen minutes. We'll be there soon."
Rebecca leaned over from the turret area, wiping frost from the window.
"Doesn't matter how far we go, Cass. I can tell you're itching for answers."
Cassidy chuckled softly, her fingers brushing the flask's neck, but there was no humor in it.
"You don't know shit about me, kid."
"Eh, figured you had some kind of grudge with the place."
Rebecca shot back, not fazed.
"Old caravan wreckage, right? I'm guessing you've got some personal vendetta to settle."
Cassidy didn't respond immediately. She just stared out the window as they continued driving toward the wreckage. The place had once been a vibrant, thriving caravan hub—her family's pride and joy before it all came crashing down.
Raiders, mercenaries, and betrayal from within had taken everything she had. Maybe that's why she didn't exactly have much love for the NCR or anyone else who turned a blind eye to people like her.
Boone broke the silence, his voice sharp as always.
"We keep moving, keep our heads down. This isn't gonna be some nice walk in the park. Not if there's something dangerous out here."
Six nodded, keeping his eyes on the road but knowing Boone was right. The NCR had their hands full with the raiders, but this wreckage?
It wasn't just an old ruin. The way Cassidy tensed when the subject was brought up told him everything he needed to know. Something was waiting there. Something big.
A few minutes passed, and the War Bus finally reached the outskirts of Grub 'n' Gulp Rest Stop. The wreckage was in sight now—charred, abandoned remnants of what had once been a thriving caravan location.
The place was eerily quiet now, only the wind howling through the ruins.
Six slowed the War Bus as they approached the wreckage. His hand hovered over the controls, eyes narrowing. Something didn't feel right. The hairs on the back of his neck stood up.
"Alright."
He said, turning to his crew.
"Everyone stay alert. This might be a trap."
Cassidy stood up, checking her weapons and adjusting her coat.
"Trap or not, I'm not leaving here without answers."
Raul clicked his tongue and grabbed his pistol, standing guard near the back of the War Bus.
"Let's just hope we're not walking into something worse than raiders."
Boone was already out of the vehicle, rifle raised, scanning the area. Rebecca slid down from the turret, walking cautiously toward the wreckage, her every step calculated, her senses on high alert.
Six followed, the rest of the crew close behind. As they moved through the newly attacked caravan wreckage, the remains of what had been caravans loomed above them.
A dead Brahmin, wooden carts, small crates with various loot, several small wooden boxes and crates, an ash pile, and many drained energy cells scattered in every direction. The place had been gutted— yet whatever had happened here, the raiders on killed the caravan but left all the merchandise.