Henry Rameriz sat at the long conference table in the Lucky 38 casino. Once this casino belonged to the mysterious Mr. House, but now it belonged to him and all of the Mojave wasteland. Now he was to agree with the terms of a peace treaty in the making. To his left sat Ambassador Crocker, who worked at the NCR embassy. To his right sat Elder McNamara, leader of the Brotherhood of Steel. Sitting next to him was a man in a white suit and black pants, a seemingly permanent smile on his face, and greased black hair. This man was known as "The King" to everyone in Freeside, leader of the gang also known as "The Kings."

"What the NCR wants at the moment," said Crocker "Is to keep the Mojave Outpost and the NCR embassy. That way we can keep trade and-"

"Now wait just a moment!" yelled McNamara, standing up to his full height. "We want the control of HELIOS one returned to us, but how can we be sure that the NCR won't try to recapture lost territories?"

"Crocker." said Henry. "If you want to keep your two buildings in my territory, you will agree to not take any more land unless I say so. Agreed?"

"Yes." Crocker mumbled, his dark skin having a pinkish hew to it.

"King." said Henry again. "You haven't said a word. Do you have any propositions we can work on?" The King looked up and replied in his usual tone. "All that me and my boys want is for the homeless people of Freeside to get better jobs and living conditions."

Henry thought for a moment, then replied. "Since Lucky 38 will be back in business if a few weeks, I could afford for at least a couple dozen people to work and live in the casino. Others could work as guns for hire or 'Escorts' for the Gomorrah and Tops. Does that work?" he asked.

"I'll agree with those terms." Said The King. "I will let my boys know to round them up."

"Hey boss man." said Yes Man, a large PDQ-88b Securitron with a smile face and light voice. "There's a man by the name of Regis of the Great Khans and Loyal from the Boomers want to come up." Henry nodded. After a few minutes of waiting, the door of the elevator opened and two polar opposites of men entered the conference room. One had Brahmin leather skinned vest, pants and boots on. Dark smudges covered his face and his short Mohawk was covered in dried mud and gore. The other was an old man, with grey hair and deep set eyes. He wore a Vault-tech jumpsuit with a leather jacket over it, this was Loyal of the boomers, and Henry's good friend. He got up and shook the two men's hands.

"Welcome. Glad you could join us. Is there anything you want to add to the treaty?" he asked.

The meeting lasted longer than Henry would have hoped. After the two newcomers added there Ideas they signed a large piece of paper that held the agreements for the peace treaty. Two more Securitrons rolled next to the table on there spindly wheels. They grabbed the treaty and rolled it up, carrying it away. After the group said there congratulations and downed a couple bottles of Champaign, they left the conference room and headed down the elevator to the main lobby.

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