[color=aba000][b][u](Commander) Danny "Nines" Floyd - Embassy - Evening, October 16th[/u][/b][/color]

Floyd had tested a hundred separate explanations while experimenting with diplomacy. They either were insufficient or directed the listener too closely to his true origin. Nonetheless, he'd attempt his most successful. He scratched his head. "Pinochle is, in fact, a card game," Danny commenced. "We wanted to better resemble the general milieu. We were 48 strong when our faction first arose. We each had a designation." Daniel reached into his pocket and pulled out a worn Nine of Clubs. The plastic sheen bore nervous sweat which he wiped off. "But we are certainly a reputable organization, I assure you."

Annexation had remained a persistent rumor which NInes elected to dismiss. By merely mentioning it, the dignitary had given that speculation weight. Daniel swallowed. "Gloria van Graff. I'll keep an ear out for that name. Steelworks are expensive but lucrative; we'll manage."

He stood up. "I believe that's all the time I've allocated for this meeting. If amenable, please postpone zoning the northern reaches of town until an in depth conversation." His brief nod was an acknowledgment of respect. "My impressions are positive. New Vegas has a cornucopia of amenities and elements of civilization we'd consider exotic luxur-" Daniel paused. He was to hype his sponsors, not reveal it for its backwater nature. "Which we'd regard as unnecessary frivolities. Still, pleasure is indelibly linked to humanity. Expect future correspondence."

Daniel departed sheepishly. If the NCR was planning to claim the entire plot, he'd have to grease palms rather quickly.

[color=aba000][u][b]Northwest Passage, "Meld" Outward Base: Midnight, October 17th[/b][/u][/color]

"So what's the plan now?" Charlotte asked.

The table was tense in the dim candlelight. The colony was on the brink of failure. Worse, Vault 48 might enter direct conflict with the Republic over territorial disputes. Floyd shrugged. "It's difficult to make friends with such a recent entry," he stated. "The best we should hope for would be for California to ignore us. They'd mark our territory as theirs on their map, but we'd control it in practice. No taxation, no regulations, et cetera."

"What 48 is to them already," Bradley commented. "We can handle that."

Daniel folded his hands. "There's a last element I've yet to mention. Benjamin Watts is a gentleman of immense culture, and he's looking to overhaul his office's aesthetic. I told him that we'd present something worthy of his stature. So," he turned to Amber, "no holds barred. Money is no object; Hinshaw would agree with me. Check with the Happy Trails Caravan, and fetch me a gift that will impress."

Amber lit up like a nuclear blast. "They informed me they'd return to Sacramento tomorrow; I'll rendezvous at dawn. I know precisely what to get him!"

[color=aba000][b][u]Embassy - Noontime, October 17th[/u][/b][/color]

It was uncomfortably hot for an autumn day. Of course, it could simply be the additional workload that caused them the agony. The landscape oil on canvas was upright and covered by a tarp, and the two boys took one side apiece. Charlotte helped ease the burden and stabilize the procession. Amber, the expert, led the way, practically skipping as she strode down the streets. As they approached the embassy, Danny decided to voice his final displeasure.

"Damnation, couldn't you have traded for a nice small sculpture?"
"Hey, you instructed me to acquire an impressive work of art!" Amber defended.
"Yeah, but in terms of quality, not quantity! The confounded thing is seven by ten feet!"
"Look, once we unveil it, you'll see it's worth every bottle cap," she assured. "It's a gorgeous view of the Sierra Nevadas!"
"The caps don't even worry me," Danny complained. "Just how cumbersome it is."

Amber replaced Daniel as he entered the embassy and passed the casino area. He was flagged by a woman at reception. "Excuse me, sir. Where are you headed?"
Daniel casually saluted. "Business with the ambassador. We come to pay homage with an offering."
"He's currently away at the [i]Gomorrah[/i]," the secretary revealed. "But if you deposit it by my desk, I'll ensure that-"
"Thank you, but we'll pass on that offer," Danny replied. Sunk cost fallacy: he'd worked so hard for the perfect moment; he'd settle for nothing less. He exited the building and hailed his people. "We're going to the [i]Gomorrah[/i]."

[color=aba000][b][u][i]Gomorrah[/i] - Afternoon, October 17th[/u][/b][/color]

The [i]Gomorrah[/i] had seen strange sights aplenty, but this was unique among them. A crowd had gathered inside and outside the facility as four yokels blocked the doorway. The tall, flat cargo they carried wouldn't fit through without finagling. A man with a big blonde Dutch beard commanded from the rear. "No, turn it clockwise. No, that's counterclockwise; I'm doing it from your perspective. That's it. Reverse towards me; let's try this again." He looked around. "If someone notifies Ambassador Watts, we'd appreciate the gesture! He's negotiating here presently."