[color=662d91][b]Robert Edwin House – Lucky 38 Hotel & Casino, New Vegas
[/b][/color]

The Institute data transfer began immediately but would take some time to complete, as it had to bounce through a number of different pre-war satellites before it would finally reach Mr. House. The schematics Thomas sent he knew House would be able to understand, perhaps not enough to fully comprehend its workings, but then again, he wouldn’t need to. All he needed to do...was build it.

Soon, the Lucky 38’s mainframe catapulted into a surge of activity. An amalgamation of equations and schematics flooded the server and Robert trembled as it overwhelmed the computer. It took a great deal of time, but he slowly perused every detail Thomas had sent him. He had seen the likes of this technology before, but never in all his years had he been presented with such a complex and vast variation of these molecular equations.

“Thomas…what in the hell are you up to?” House muttered as he continued to connect the dots. There was only one reason why he’d have sent him these schematics without context from the other side of this world…It was an invitation—perhaps even a challenge—for House to build it.

House’s terminal beamed down at Jane. “Open a long-range transmission to Big Mountain. To Doctor Klein. Immediately.”

“Of course, dear. You will be hearing from him momentarily,” said Jane in her sultry digital voice.

Before long, the image of Doctor Klein—a think tank whose strange robotic construction bordered on the psychedelic—appeared on the screen opposite from Robert.

“It is…uh…good…to hear from you, Mr. House. How may the think tank assist?”

“As we speak, Doctor Klein, I am sending you an array of schematics. Re-active X-8 Research Center and devote all available resources to building the contents.”

“Interesting. Very intriguing. I will send out a memo shortly, as soon as I am able to review the details,” said Doctor Klein as one of his eye-screens zoomed in and widened. 

“Good. I want the product shipped back to New Vegas as soon as it is complete, as I am sure I will have to make my own modifications here in the Lucky 38.”

“This means I want Project Aries on standby while this work takes place in X-8. I want all major resources devoted to these schematics.”

“It will be done, Mr. President,” said Dr. Klein. 

“Farewell,” muttered Mr. House.


[color=662d91][b]“The King” – Santa Fe[/b][/color]

The King had arrived fashionably late to Santa Fe. The final conversation he’d had with Mr. House back in New Vegas suddenly swirled back into his head, one in which House drilled the importance of being professional to the FZM’s allies, namely the hosting Legion and Midwestern Brotherhood. Unfortunately, arriving on time would have been one of them. There was very little he could have done; the journey had taken far longer than predicted.

Flanked by two soldiers in pre-war Riot Gear donning assault rifles, The King entered the palace. His hands were buried in his zany striped suit-jacket and his eyes were only ahead. Had he arrived on time, perhaps he could have admired the splendor unburdened by stress, but now his only objective was to find the table and sit without much of a commotion. 

A lovely woman approached and greeted him. “Salve, I am Hannah of New Canaan. Welcome to Santa Fe on behalf of my husband, Caesar Lucius. And welcome to our home, please make yourselves comfortable inside.”

The King awkwardly bowed his head. “Uh…great. Thank you. I will show myself inside.” At that, he motioned toward his guards to disperse and entered the meeting room where a handful of delegates had already arrived and were embroiled in conversation.

He found his way to his seat, nodded slowly, and sat down, quietly observing the others and once again immersing himself in the tumultuous landscape of the west.