<<UserID:Webb>> I think Goodsprings has spoiled me. I was expecting an evening of free drinks after a day killing people. It’s almost like being back in the service, except without the possibility of ending up in the sack with a sexy NCO.
Miss you, Jess.
Unfortunately for my evening plans -- but perhaps fortunately for my liver -- the residents of Primm drank their way through the remaining alcohol stores in the Vikki and Vance within the first few days of locking themselves in. Even though the ‘Gangers in town seem to be dealt with, they’re still worried that vengeful reinforcements will arrive from the NCR prison at any moment.
No one is willing to leave the casino or get back to anywhere near normal without some new law in town, and no one thinks Beagle is up to the job -- including Beagle himself.
Once I’d crossed back to the Vikki and Vance from the Bison Steve, I spent some time talking with Beagle and Nash, both of whom asked for help finding a new sheriff.
Honestly, ever since I came back to the Mojave, it’s starting to feel like no one can get anything done unless I’m there holding their hand.
I hated to give Checkers and his buddies more of a lead than they already had, but I think that, ultimately, if I left these people to moulder in this building while chasing after some vengeance, I’d never be able to look my reflection in the face again.
Unfortunately, Nash and Beagle differ in their opinions about who should take over. Beagle, who strikes me as a man who likes doing everything the easiest way possible, said we should just get the NCR to take over the town, since they were already here, and establish a small military force here to keep law and order.
The idiot gets on my nerves and got half my arm burned off, sure, but I still wouldn’t inflict that on him -- well, maybe I would, truth be told, but I have the rest of the town to think about. I pointed out how little help the NCR had been already and asked Nash if he had any better ideas.
He thought for a bit, then told me about a sheriff from another town in the Mojave who had been sent to the NCRCF for being a little too enthusiastic in his application of justice. Ironically, a sheriff like that might be just the thing a scared town like this needs... IF he’s still at the NCRCF, and IF he hasn’t joined the Powder Gangers.
We talked for a bit about the possibility of getting into the NCRCF to look for him without getting my head blown off, and I resolved to go back to the Bison Steve in the morning to see if I could find a prison uniform on one of the dead convicts that wasn’t too badly burned or ventilated. Maybe, with a hat pulled down low, that would get me through the door.
While we were discussing routes to the prison -- it sounded like the Long 15 was the best choice, once again -- Primm Slim wandered by us with his cheerful greetings, and I remembered the way he had grabbed me and hefted me up when I first ran into the casino.
I started to wonder if perhaps the solution was a little closer to home than anyone in Primm had realized. Slim was a Protectron, after all -- as I understand it, Protectrons were made by RobCo before the Great War to be security robots. Probably Primm Slim was no different and had just been repurposed to act as the Vikki and Vance’s tourguide. If the original security subroutines hadn’t been overwritten completely, it shouldn’t be too much trouble to simply flip the switch, as it were.
I’d been trained as a medic in my squad, yes, but that medical training had been in Vault City, and I’d learned a heck of a lot about computer programming and mechanical engineering just by being there and having access to their libraries. Besides, the worst that could happen was that I’d scrap a robot tour guide, right?
Beagle and Nash were in favor of the idea, if it could be done, so I cornered Slim, told him what we were thinking, and asked if he’d object to me poking around in his tapes. He has cheerfully acquiesced, so I’m just going to unscrew this panel here...
*Sounds of rasping metal.*
There we are! Now, let’s see... I’ll patch the PIP-Boy into Slim’s internal terminal, and...
*Typing.*
Huh. That can’t be...
*Typing continues.*
Interesting. Looks like I’m not the only robo-surgeon to meddle around in here recently. A whole block of his memory file looks like it’s been intentionally corrupted. The PIP-Boy has a few decryption routines built in... let me run this block through those, see if we can... Aha!
Got it! Okay, looks like an audio log of the minute or so prior to the last hack. Let’s see what we’ve got...
<<Unidentified Male>> Is it still there?
<<Unidentified Female>> Yep, it's here, Sam.
<<Unidentified Male>> Well, hot damn! Let's grab it and go.
<<Unidentified Synthetic>> Howdy, Partners! Welcome to the Vikki and Vance casino and museum!
<<Unidentified Male>> Can you shut that thing up, Pauline?
<<Unidentified Female>> Sure thing, honey! Grab the gun, and we'll get going.
<<Unidentified Synthetic>> Please do not touch the exhibits.
<<Unidentified Female>> I almost got it. I'll wipe the memory file as well.
<<Unidentified Male>> Okay! Let's get going. I'm going to stick this bad boy in my safe until we’re ready.
<<Unidentified Female>> Alright, once I'm done with this memory block, we'll head back to Westside until we're ready to go.
<<UserID:Webb>> I’ll be damned. I figured those exhibits had been missing since the Great War. Well, shoot... A sheriff that can get hacked this easily is no better than one that’ll take a bribe.
Sorry, Slim, looks like you’ll be staying on as a tour guide for a while longer -- no badge for you.
<<Unidentified Synthetic>> Well, shucks, pardner! Ain’t no never mind to me! This job is awful swell!
<<UserID:Webb>> Uh huh. Great. That’s a real load off my mind, Slim.
<<Unidentified Synthetic>> Say, pardner, want to hear the story of this nation’s fourth or maybe fifth most famous celebrity outlaw co-
<<UserID:Webb>> Slim, I think Mrs. Nash needs some help getting dinner ready for everyone.
<<Unidentified Synthetic>> Why didn’t you say so sooner, pardner? Can’t have the trail-hands waiting on their grub!
<<UserID:Webb>> Swell. Thanks.
*Sighing.*
Guess I ought to tell the folks of Primm that we’ll be looking a little further afield. I’ll grab some of whatever Mrs. Nash is cooking up for dinner, then get some rack time. Seems like I’m heading back up north tomorrow.
Signing off.
//Recording Ends//
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