An envoy, they were making him be a freaking envoy. It wasn't fair, he was a damn soldier! He went through and endured countless hours of training so that he could fight on the frontlines, helping scrape the scum off of NCR land, not play around as some stupid diplomat. All he'd been told was that the mysterious old Mr. House was sending some kind of [i]expedition[/i] across the wasteland to do who knows what. If it wasn't for that blazing clever House he would be out with the rest of his regiment, doing what soldiers should do. For all he knew, House could be trying to pull off some harebrained scheme to drive out the NCR, or something dumb like that. At least that would give him something interesting to do. Oh well, he might as well make best out of a bad situation, at the very least he'd be able to see what it was like outside of Nevada. Still, he couldn't help but feel outraged that he was being reduced from NCR trooper to some lowly politician!

Did the commander say that he was to go to the Lucky 38? Barking House's [i]personal casino[/i]? He glanced down at the official looking letter that he'd been given, complete with an NCR wax seal and all. Clearly on the front it said the address, the Lucky 38. He'd been so caught up in his anger that he didn't realize how crazy that seemed. Few living people have ever had that permission, and it seems that he was becoming one of them. The NCR monorail was approaching New Vegas, soon he would be in the famous city itself. He'd never been before, not allowed due to his young age, but now that he was a full-fledged NCR soldier he was entitled to do whatever he wanted. As the monorail skidded to a stop, he realized something...maybe the letter in his hands could tell him more about his mission.

This could [i]technically[/i] be considered treason, but technically is a broad term, he thought as he slid his knife across the wax seal of the letter. It was the commander's fault for not giving him any better information on his mission, and if he was carrying a letter he darn right deserved to read it! Apprehension flowed through him as he slid out the simple, pristine white parchment contained within the envelope. Now he could find out what this whole envoy thing was all about. Disappointment showed on his face as he read through the print. He knew all this barking information already! Defeated, Sabin slid the letter back into the envelope. Some help that ended up being.

Oops, he forgot about the seal. Now the flap of the envelope was hanging open, the wax sloppily split in half and in disarray. Nothing a little saliva couldn't fix, he reckoned. Pulling the flap up so that he could see the inside of it, he slid his tongue along the length of it, covering the thing in saliva. As he pushed it closed, he groaned in frustration, all he managed to do was soak the paper through and make it look even more like someone had gone through it! The flap hadn't even stuck down. He would just have to hand the letter to House or whoever in this condition, there wasn't much else he could do. Might as well head over to the Lucky 38 now.

As he approached the entrance, he saw a lone Securitron standing guard at the entrance. It looked different than the other robots patrolling the Strip, it somehow looked...happier? He doubted robots could be happy, but the thing had a whole different face projected onto its screen and it was creeping him out. Sabin went closer, stepping towards the contraption. "Need somethin', partner?" It said in a strange, half robotic half western accent. These robots just keep getting weirder and weirder. "Err...yeah, I think so.. I need to get in there," He said, pointing to the doors of the Lucky 38, "Supposed to go here for some kind of.. expedition or some mumbo jumbo like that." The robot eyed Sabin, somehow quizzically. That's nonsense, robots couldn't look [i]quizzical[/i]! "'fraid that won't do partner, House isn't the kind of guy that would want some NCR trooper like you in his presence. You got any kin' a official documents or anything?" Pulling the crunched up letter out of his pocket, he waved the envelope up and down in front of the robot's screen. Perhaps he could sense it or something. "Well that's really somethin', partner! A real seal from the NCR higher ups themselves! House did say to look for one er' those, might as well let ya in." Pleased with himself, Sabin watched as the large doors in front of him began to slide open, revealing the Lucky 38. "Jus' take the elevator to the Penthouse suite, won't be long 'til you'll be taken care of."

The Lucky 38 was even more luxurious inside, at least 50 times fancier than any kind of building he'd ever been in before. The lower floor seemed unoccupied for the time being, so he spent the next 20 or so minutes exploring all that had to be explored, familiarizing himself with the lower level. He even snuck off a couple glasses of a nice tasting wine while he was down there, but remembering his duties he headed toward the elevator. As it opened, he peered inside uneasily. He didn't trust these mechanics, he hadn't been in an elevator before and he doubted that this one was used very much, so everything could go wrong. "Oh well, no using in hanging around down here anymore..." He muttered, taking a last glance at the bar before stepping into the elevator.

As the elevator doors opened, he saw one thing. Biscuits. He hadn't eaten all day, and he was freaking hungry! Without noticing whether anyone else was in the room, or even looking around, he practically ran over to the biscuits, stuffing them into his mouth as fast as he could. It was only when he had finished off the majority of them did he look up, noticing the other figures in the room, Dallas and Poe.

"Oh uh... howdy there!" He said, flashing a sincere smile at the two of them.