[i][color=0054a6]"The King" - The Gourmand[/color][/i]

The King looked on in horror as Shelby jammed a chopstick into Mr. Hornsby's shoulder. He calmly idled in his chair with an irritated-yet-simultaneously-concerned face and said nothing. The securitrons would react with specific instructions from Mr. House. There was no need for him to get his hands dirty. He took a deep sigh and gulped the last of his scotch. [i]It's happening again...[/i]

The rest of the table suddenly stared at The King, as if expecting him to react. He did not humor them. The securitrons stationed inside the Gourmand rolled over to Shelby with their usual heavy-handed approach and grabbed her by the arm. They then stared at The King expectantly.

"Well?"

The securitron gripping Shelby's arm said nothing, and instead stayed affixed to The King. This had to have been a test. These securitrons had protocols -- algorithms, which would have guided them through an altercation like this with ease. The only explanation was that House was remote controlling this one. 

The King addressed the lot. "We have no tolerance for this sort of behavior here. Mr. House invited you all to the F.Z.M. so that we could write the future together. Stabbing another representative at a summit filled with the most powerful nations of the new world is simply a special, [i]special[/i] flavor of stupid." He paused and gave orders to the securitrons. "Put her under room-arrest for the time being. Take her to the quarters I have given her people and guard the door." He glared at Calypso. "If I see any more of that sort of shit from your folks, your entire entourage will be banished from New Vegas." He apologetically looked at Shelby. "I am doing you a favor. It could have been much worse."

After taking a deep breath, The King came down from the particular high of the conflict and slouched in his chair. "I think this calls for an adjournment of our first day. Please enjoy all of the amenities that New Vegas has to offer, and we will meet again tomorrow. If you would like to remain at the table unofficially, that is fine. But you are all free to depart for the day. We will resume at the same time tomorrow." With that, The King scrammed at an astonishing rate out of the room, hustling back to the Lucky 38. He punched the up-button on the elevator and hit "Penthouse". The elevator ascended to Mr. House's quarters.

[color=0054a6][i]Robert Edwin House - Lucky 38[/i]
[/color]

"So tell me, Robert..." Barnaky's voice came loud and clear through the intercom. "...what do you think of Kimball and the pickle he's putting you in?" The uplink worked perfectly. [i]Excellent.[/i]

Mr. House's harrowingly cold-and-carefully-articulated voice resounded through the speakers. "[i]Simon[/i]." After that, there was a long pause, long enough that Barnaky might have been concerned about the quality of the connection. 

...

Then he spoke again. Robert's words very slowly rolled out of the speakers. "Kimball is an imbecile. It is only fitting that this pathetic excuse of a representative they have sent us was a very convincing double. 'Pickle' is not a word I would use, Mr. Barnaky. None of what transpired today is at all a surprise -- I predicted the NCR's course of action long before this summit. My representative, on the other hand, has succeeded in creating a cloud of subterfuge without my even planning of it. His extreme lack of poise and impulsive reactions have given the others an inaccurate picture. When I join the fray, tomorrow, things will be very different."

He paused. "You are not known for being a fan of 'fluff' and insincere small-talk, so I will make simple the reason I have opened communication with you. I believe that our technological empires were made for each other. You have the power to curate some of the most dangerous and wildly spectacular technology left in this world. I have the power to cultivate and build an entire civilization around it. This summit has only confirmed my speculation -- the days ahead will be far too turbulent for me to accurately predict them. But we can help each other. My vision for the west is grand, and the NCR will not stand in its way."

The King suddenly entered the penthouse through the elevator, interrupting the meeting.

"Please excuse me, Simon. Just a moment." Mr. House forgot to disable the uplink. Barnaky would be privy to the words he spoke next. "What is it?"

"First day is over, boss-man. Not sure what to think of it," muttered The King.

"I know what to think. You were a fish-out-of-water. You could not keep your own personal nomenclature off the table and made a fool of yourself. You made us look frail in front of the NCR and accomplished the direct opposite of everything I had hoped you would."

"Oh."

"You will be running errands for me tomorrow. I will be attending the meeting. Have a lovely evening."

"O-oh... All right. Good night, Mr. House." The King defeatedly shuffled into the elevator and left the penthouse.

Mr. House returned to the uplink. "My apologies. As I was explaining -- your people are part of my vision. The landscape of western America is ripe, and only we know what exactly to do with it."