Preparation

It had been two years, two years of loneliness, and in that time, and more, led her to finish up her very own project and to start her journey. A project of frustration and determination of what others are sure not to have in the sandy wastes of the Mojave. With her eagerness, she tended to check over her work and engineering, as a requirement of her survival and not a cost of her carelessness in antsiness of wanting something useful. It was at the last breath and twist of her worn wrench that she lifted a strand of black hair from her face to return behind her right ear that then rested just two inches past her earlobe.

"Done. Now I know it will start. It definitely was worth the five years." she had said to herself after a sigh of relief and reassurance of her knowledge.

She had been a child of books and education her mother had gladly gave to her. Not many children were blessed with knowledgeable and booked filled family libraries. With that including her mother who was the most educated and almost was believed to be a professor of many subjects within Primm.

Giving herself a moment to stand from crouching, she stands up and grunts with the light effort of standing after a moment of her attention. Her eyes glide along with the frame of it, once it had run in Pre-War times having given the afternoon rides a burst of wind to flow through others' hair and bring glee over their faces to two riders at most. The fresh paint of black over its tank and fenders made it seem as if it was freshly manufactured. Within her small garage, she shifts and side steps to her wooden work table. Littered with books on motorcycles and tools, they had been stained by oil, grease, and other fluids as a classic motor would need. She grasps her large satchel bag and returns it to her right buttock and straps it just in the middle of her chest. Her sun tanned face soon gleams into her reflection in the garage mirror that she eyes. She looks back at herself and to her abnormal golden eyes. She steps her way back over with her black combat boots comfortably hugging the fabric of her pants within them then sits still as she lifts a leg over the other side and her weight comfortably settles into the seat. She slips her right boot over on the pedal of the kickstarter. She sucks in a breath and grasps the handlebars. She pushes all of her weight to her one right foot. Posing as if a ballerina is attached to a music box, it starts up quickly and loud then suddenly quiets down to a rumble as she grasps the throttle and revs it. It vibrates a few canisters behind her. The sound was crisp and new to Primm as her face keeps a relieved smile she lets it idle and kicks the stand down to now begin to pack things. She grabs the pair of saddlebags she had kept ready, they were perfectly polished, after finishing strapping them on tightly to the motorcycle she tosses in a few necessary tools and items, a tire iron, a small jack, oil, a reserved power cell, and two canisters of gasoline she had scavenged and/or siphoned. Having a quick thought, her duster sleeveless coat flutters behind her fluent movements she rushes through her house scooping items to her bag. Stopping into her bathroom she gathers a few stimpaks and RadAway. Stepping out now and crossing the hallway to her room she opens her closet and gathers some ammo for her bag, some .44 magnum rounds, and microfusion cells. She lastly looks at a large case sitting to the back of the closet wall. She opens it with a few dials of the bike lock on the handle and opens it to her two trusted weapons, besides the combat knife strapped to her left thigh. The Gauss Rifle and the .44 Magnum of her very own, gladly return to her aid. She swings the strap that has been attached to the rifle, over her head, and across her chest. Lastly, she returns her revolver to its holster to her left hip. Now hopefully thinking of her last needs, she heads to her kitchen just past her living room. Now taking things from her fridge, she grasps some Sunset Sarsaparillas and Nuka-Colas then to her counter stacked in her favorite foods, canned Salisbury Steaks, she stuffs her satchel more. Just before heading back to the light rumbling, she pauses afoot after a bookshelf. She gathers a few books, The Love In Waiting, Grand Endure, The Robot Who Could, and her journal in which she opens the hardcover to see a picture of, from left to right, her mother, her and her father whom she retained all of his teachings of repairing and shooting. Shifting her body a bit from the weight she returns to her garage now returning to the comfort of the smell of fresh burning gas to ease her burden. Now placing the majority of her food and drink in one saddlebag, that is softened by a rolled-up blanket, she comes to the metal door of the garage and pulls on the revolving chain link. The afternoon sun burns her eyes a bit. They soon slowly adjust and their glowing golden color settles to a calmer less vibrant gold.

"Alright...I have the front door locked. All gathered and ready...just hope I can scrounge up some sunglasses out there…somewhere" she says low in her silvery tone as the door locks in place.

She then lays out a thick sensory wire across the ground of the door's entrance and she saddles her motorcycle and kicks up the stand, balances her weight, and revs it forward to the bumpy streets of Primm. The weight of her motorcycle triggers the wire and it soon shuts the metal door slowly behind her triggering its lock mechanism. Now coming to the main streets of town she sees Ruby Nash who walks out from Johnson's Mojave Express Office.

"On your way already dear? Hurry back once you find out something about her okay?" she says kindly and gives a slight wave and a glee filled gaze at Susan's work.

"I will, Miss Ruby! I am determined too!" she proclaims over her engine.

"Good job you did there! You sure need to share it with Mr. Nash when you get back, now ya hear?!" Susan hears the smile in Ruby's voice as she then drives further to the bridge and heads to the NCR camp after giving a light laugh to Ruby.

She spots Sheriff McBain and then Deputy Beagle, to which she lifts a corner of her lip and scoffs as they walk by discussing things while on patrol. Looking back to the front of her she navigates smoothly across the broken bridge and toward the rubbled part of Primm and through its rocky town. Feeling the troops and patrollers' eyes on her she settles the bike down and kicks down the stand and shifts her weight to one foot then to balance it to the other.

"Anything out there lately?" she asks loudly to an NCR soldier and smiles, crossing her arms over the handlebars and the speedometer.

"Nothing much Goldeneye. Oh hey did Lieutenant Hayes give you that reward? Despite your help, I am sure more Powder Gangers will return." he asks then gives off the last statement in a more annoyed tone to future chores and reports.

"No, I was told he would have brought it to me. Guess he is busy then huh? And don't say that. Jinxing is sometimes a thing you know…" she warns and lightly chuckles as she swings her leg over after cutting off the engine to make her way to the tents. Once spotting the Lieutenant she waves halfly and greets him with a welcoming smile as she enters the half-open flap.

"Oh yeah, you, I apologize for not being able to drop off your reward. Been having a difficult time dealing with things here and with the small raids. I am afraid it may get worse, so you will be missed." he kindly mentions, only to duck his hands behind him to his desk to shift out an NCR Ranger Helmet to the front of him. She had always had her eyes on it for time after time having only seen one from afar and in some of her father's pictures that her mother had taken.

"Took you long enough! Was it hard to get in supply of?" her blunt honesty was her quirk and charm, of her own kind, yet it got her into trouble at times. The people of Primm knew her well enough to know she meant well.

"Well the longer the wait the more the anticipation. Now take it and get out of here. We can handle this. As for the difficulty I am sure to let you know it was a pain in the ass but I am sure it suits you." he says swiftly as he shoves it to her. She gazes deeply with an eye to its red lenses.

"Thank you then, lieutenant and I am sure you will do just fine." Her confidence was high with them despite what the future held for them.

Now looking down to her left hip she holds a thought as the helmet is settled tightly between her two hands. Tucked away under and into the helmet is a leather strap she debates to tie tight to her side through a belt loop. Given the idea she goes ahead and tries it, at once she double checks its durability as she walks her way to her motorcycle jumping up and sprinting. She nods in confirmation of her idea and soon saddles herself back onto her bike then kick starts it swiftly and heads south along the road under the overpassing bridge that had led her home. Navigating through the ruined road she glances past the sandy hills for almost a quarter of an hour. In the windy silence, she soon covers the road in eight miles to end up just a bit outside of the Mojave Outpost. The junction of the highway is where she stands to one foot and eyes the sight of the historical statues. In her history lesson with her mother, she knew of the treaty and the leading to the creation of a stern and powerful alliance. The handshaking sight of the two statues that stand there atop the hill road to the outpost was a sight to behold. Every once and awhile her mother would remind her that her father had taken them to see the statues at sundown to see the sight of the sun setting just between the NCR Ranger and the Desert Ranger metal statues. To this nostalgia, she would heave a breath, lift her feet to her pegs and rev the throttle to move onward east on the main road heading toward and through Nipton. The travel of ten miles east was calming yet she heard some troubles along the way to where she stopped and cut the engine to push it along to the side of the road over some smaller hills.

"Gangers?" her voice hushed as she stands her bike just at the end of the hill and she crawls to the top to lay low onto her stomach. Using her rifle she sways it to the front of her to eye the small group through the shining scope.

Through it, she sees a few fires and gathering drunks of some Jackal gangsters she has never seen before. She lifts a brow for a moment to lift her face away from the scope and to use her own sight. Her right eye shifts away from a glowing color for a moment and she slides down the hill having her right foot guide her and crawls back up to stand. Tracking through the rough sand and dirt she sweeps back her rifle to her back. Coming close to her bike she grabs the handles tight and quickly pushes with all of her strength. Her feet struggle for a moment to find traction and soon she comes out behind the hill and works around the cover of it and back to the shoulder of the road. Making it silently and halfway between the encampment and Nipton she panics and kicks start it once. She fails and glances back over her left shoulder to see some Jackals stand up from the ruins and eye her over some crumbled walls half a mile from her. She looks back to her lower left and steps her left foot to the kickstart again and it ignites. She then hops her weight to her right foot and swings over to sit firmly to the bike then roars the bike to the entrance of the town of Nipton to avoid an outnumbered fight at all costs. Drifting a bit to the road she feels her breath become held to the hope of having the tires not pop as her left foot keeps sliding across scraping rocks to keep her balance. Blazing through the town she smiles nervously with a reddened face glancing over some Powdered Gangers, citizens, and travelers alike residing there for a good time of drugs and personal enjoyment behind closed doors. She kept in habit to avoid such people and to keep herself spaced from such trouble. It was, to always end, to lead to being at the wrong place at the wrong time. Swiftly blazing through and turning past people she overhears a comment which makes her smile.

"I-Is that a motorcycle?! No way! Hey! Look Oliver!" one voice would call out yet it disappears as she cuts past the Town Hall and to the canyon that leads along the sides the winding road.

She continues now northeast and up northward to Novac to where she would rest for the night. Passing over the train tracks she eyes the sign of, Now Entering Nevada, it welcomes her. Now pulling free on the throttle, the roaring sound of the engine echoed along the rocky canyon way as she sways past broken-down trucks and cars. Lifting her head up to some raiders of sorts she lifts back down to her hip to her revolver. She then shoots off a few shots up to the ridges as a warning and now rushes to the other end of the waning road. Having now approached the open road and having it to herself she relaxes her left hand and clicks the safety back on to her magnum and settles it to its holster. She sucks in a breath to take a moment to calm her nerves and feel the airflow through her short hair. Giving herself a few moments she looks up to a shortcut. A road leading under a bridge seems all the quietest; the occasional nervousness flashes over her. Slowing down she eyes her surroundings including the setting sun. The hues of the orange, purple, and yellow bring out the stars to welcome her growing comfortable eyes. She has a smirk flow over her lips and wrinkles at the corner of her right eye.

"Almost there, I see," she mutters, setting her weight to one foot and eyeing the giant T-Rex ahead over a small mountain.

Lifting back up her foot and rolling back the handle she keeps it at a decent pace and keeping silent as possible. Now passing a billboard sign of Sunset Sarsaparilla advertising she notices a man strumming lightly on his guitar near a warming campfire, she smiles in admiration for the few strings she hears. She debates whether to enjoy his rhythm. Leading the front wheel to him she stops just at the side of the road crossing her arms over the handlebars.

"Beautiful rhythm...not many musicians out there. Lucky you." She smiles looking to his duster shift under his legs as he adjusts his seat.

"Thank you, little lady…wrote it myself. Traveling the wastes could get boring and lonesome. This beauty helps get me by, at the end of the day." He happily smiles hiding some pain behind it. She knew under every smile there had to be some pain.

"I wish you luck. Hope to see that talent get you someplace besides out here." She softly waves her right hand and kicks up her feet. He tips his hat to her and returns to keeping a foot-tapping to his timing.

She soon rides along to spot an outpost where she furrows her brows as she had no idea there was an NCR camp so close to a town she was somewhat familiar with. It had changed a few years from when she had traveled here to enjoy the sight of an old relic of the past with her mother. She had missed the company of No-Bark and his strange speech, yet she had caught on easily to his encrypted style of speech whether or not it was from drugs or of his education she did not know nor care to judge. Continuing on she slowly comes to the town cutting off the engine and happily pushes it along to walk along the road through the small neighborhood. Coming to the Dino Dee-Lite Motel's sign she slowly pushes herself through the open gate and kicks the stand-down of her bike. She sniffs in a breath and lets go of the tiring effort of pushing her motorcycle along to keep the town quiet and not paranoid nearing into the night before bed. She sat down and leaned against her bike gently testing the sustaining weight of it and soon leans toward it's left saddlebag. She reached up to pull out a blanket from it and swung it above her. She groans slightly as she leans back up to release the uncomfortable rifle from her back and into her lap. The Gauss rifle sits coldly in her lap as she crosses her arms over it and her eyes flutter shut heavily and tiredly.