The Courier slid a large pile of bottle caps across the Roulette Table. He was clean shaven and had long brown hair. He was wearing a Sheriff's hat, sunglasses and a duster that was given to him by Ulysses, with the Old World's symbol imprinted on the back.
"200 Caps on red." The Courier said.
Swank leaned down next to the Courier.
"I thought we kicked you out."
"I thought you casino goons would have learned to stop messing with me. Do you want to discuss this with Mr House again?"
"You can't keep doing this. We'll be broke within a few weeks."
"Swank, I'll give you five seconds to scram before you end up like Benny."
Swank sighed and walked off. The Roulette dealer spun the wheel, and the ball spun around, before eventually slowing down and rolling into the red slot. The Roulette dealer placed 400 caps on the table. A Securitron drove along on its wheel and stopped next to Courier.
"Mr House has requested you pres…"
"Yeah, yeah. I know the spiel; I'll go pay him a visit."
"Sir, your winnings." The Roulette dealer said.
The Courier knocked the caps onto the floor, and within seconds dozens of gamblers were on the ground struggling to pick them up.
"I don't really need much more money."
The Courier smiled and went to the Lucky 38 Penthouse.
OOO
The Courier stood in front of Mr House's monitor.
"What's my newest mission?"
"There have been rumours of a new gang being entering the Mojave Desert. They've recently entered Primm. I want you to investigate them."
"Investigate? Just send some Securitrons to wipe them out."
"I wanted you to investigate them, not kill them."
"House, tell me why I'm really doing this, or I'm going back to the casino."
"They haven't done anything illegal, and in fact came into the Mojave with a large amount of caps which they're using to buy supplies to outfit any recruits they can get. They even came with a military troop transport truck that they somehow repaired."
"And?"
"My Securitrons have reported they include a ghoul hit-man, a super-mutant, a Brotherhood of Steel Paladin, a Mister Gutsy and the Washington Water-Giver."
The Courier opened his mouth but paused. The Washington Water-Giver was a legend by now. A vault-dweller who forced the Enclave from Washington and fixed the water issues there. If he was here, the Courier had to watch out. Then again, most legends turned up to be hoaxes or exaggerations.
"I'll deal with them." The Courier said.
OOO
Twenty minutes later, The Courier was putting his spare ammo into the back of a pick-up truck. He had assembled his personal soldiers and equipment for the trip out to Primm. He didn't expect trouble, but in a fight with a gang led by a living legend, he was better off with too much help than too little. His magnum, a gift from a wandering musician, was at his side. He had the Pimp-Boy 3 Billion on his arm and the Old World Glory on his back along with his favourite Incinerator. He had two pick-up trucks in front of him that had been repaired by Raul with help from Mr House. They were in working condition, making them two of the few working vehicles in the wasteland.
The Trucks had two front seats, three back seats and an open-back. In one truck would be the Courier and Boone sitting up front. Rex, Roxie and their strongest, largest pup, Blaze, sat in the three back seats. In the back were ED-E and an assortment of supplies that the Courier kept in there should he ever need to evacuate New Vegas quickly, such as ammo, food and a lot of spare fuel. In the other truck were Rose of Sharon Cassidy, Arcade Gannon and Raul, with Lily sitting in the back.
The Courier pulled the brim of the Cowboy hat lower to shade his face from the sun, and got into the driver's seat of his truck. He made sure he had his backpack, which contained some ammo, a switchblade, his straight razor Figaro, his Liberator Machete, sleepwear, a Teddy Bear, whiskey, magazines and his Codac R9000 Camera, and started the truck.
"Everyone ready?" He asked.
Boone nodded.
"Both trucks are ready."
"Let's roll." The Courier said.
OOO
The Lone Wanderer popped the cap of a Nuka-Cola and took a long drink. He checked his reflection in his Reflectron, and smiled. He was wearing his lucky shades and his Armoured 101 Jumpsuit. He ran a hand through his short black hair, and scratched his chin stubble. He looked over the supplies and men he had. It was a lot, but definitely not enough. The Group was ten members wide, including him, Charon, Dogmeat, Cross, Fawkes, Sergeant RL-3, Butch, Sean and Elizabeth: the two security guards from Vault 101 who had joined him, as well as a Wastelander who agreed to help him. It still wasn't close to enough, though. The Lone Wanderer sighed, and wiped his brow. It was hot, and he wasn't used to this desert heat. He noticed Cross walking towards him, and turned.
"There are vehicles approaching." Star Paladin Cross said.
"Vehicles? Who the hell has vehicles here?"
The Lone Wanderer turned, and saw a truck coming towards them from far off into the desert. Then a second one appeared, following the first.
"Hide our transport. Then get to cover, I don't want to be out in the open if they're not friendly."
The Lone Wanderer grabbed his weapons, his Zhu-Rong v418 Chinese Pistol, his Wazer Wifle, and Jingwei's Shocksword. He hid by the spokes of the roller-coaster, and waited. The Robotic Sheriff walked past him, doing his usual patrol. The Trucks drew nearer, and the Lone Wanderer could make out the a few figures. There was a large figure sitting in the back of one, and there was what looked to be a cowboy guy and an NCR Soldier in the front of the lead truck. The trucks stopped, and the cowboy and soldier got out. The Soldier whispered something, and the cowboy started walking down the street.
"Water-Giver!" The Cowboy yelled. "I see you're planning to ambush me. I advise you to come out, or make use of your ammo. I've survived a lot of things, and I don't plan on surviving Goodsprings to die in Primm!"
The Lone Wanderer stood up and started walking towards the cowboy, rifle in hands.
"Who are you?" The Lone Wanderer said.
"They call me the Courier. You've come into my city, and I'll tell you this: If you're here to cause trouble, you'll all last a few seconds before you end up as another unnamed grave in the desert. Tell your men to come out."
The Lone Wanderer whistled, and his men approached, as did the Courier's. Both sides had a robot, a mutant, a dog and a ghoul, but they had two more dogs along with a doctor, a female cowboy and a soldier, while he had a barber and a Paladin. The odds were about equal, so he was ready for a fight.
The Courier surveyed them. He sneered slightly when he saw Cross.
"You're Brotherhood?" He asked.
"Partly."
"Why the hell are you here, then?"
"We're recruiting soldiers."
"I don't want Brotherhood in my city. You know what happened to the last Brotherhood members we had? Their Bunker's in pieces."
The Lone Wanderer smiled slightly. The Courier was trying to appear confident, but he was nervous. He wasn't sure what was going to happen.
"We're only here to gather soldiers to deal with some issues. We're not Brotherhood recruiters, just simple adventurers. Nothing else."
"Right, how about we discuss this over a drink? There's no point in having blood shed when it doesn't need to be." The Courier said.
The Wanderer paused, and slowly nodded. The Courier pointed the barrel of his gun towards the Vicky and Vance Casino, and he headed inside.
OOO
The Courier sat at the bar, next to the Water-Giver. He ordered a whiskey, while his new "friend" ordered water, which suited his name.
"So, are the rumours true, Water-Giver? You brought the great and powerful Enclave to its knees, killed President Eden and gave water to the wastes?"
"I prefer to be called the Lone Wanderer. That's what I've always been called."
"You're not alone."
"I used to be, and the name stuck. But yeah, that stuffs true."
The Courier chuckled.
"That doctor out there's ex-Enclave. I've helped the Enclave a few times, actually."
The Lone Wanderer placed on hand on his pistol, but the Courier only seemed amused by the fact.
"Relax. I have a mutant and a ghoul on my team, I hardly agree with Enclave beliefs. I myself am somewhat of a legend here. I took two shots to the head at close range and got buried in a shallow grave." The Courier said, tracing two scars in his head with his index finger "Survived that, so I killed the moron who shot me, got back my package and delivered it. From there, I worked for Mr House and his robot army, until I pushed the NCR and the Legion out of New Vegas. I heard you took an incredibly dose of radiation, so that makes us both zombies, right?"
"That's an impressive tale." The Lone Wanderer said, thinking.
The Lone Wanderer wasn't sure what to make of the Courier. He was odd, but there was cunning in those eyes. He was an odd man, if anything. The Lone Wanderer was a soldier, a commando, a warrior, armed with his knowledge of Science, repair and his Energy Weapons. He followed in his father's scientific footprints, and brought law and peace to Washington, both due to his child-like innocence, his honesty and his father's moral lessons. He got through his trials through hard work and determination. He didn't take chems or gamble. He drank the occasional beer only, unlike the near-alcoholic Courier, because it clouded his mind. The Lone Wanderer was more of a Nuka-Cola and Sweet Roll guy.
The Courier was different. He seemed more cunning, and had a way with words that disarmed you, while keeping the terrifying presence of a cruel leader. He didn't seem to have any particular morals, and would do whatever he needed to succeed. The Courier definitely liked wealth, drinking and gambling heavily and showing off his penchant for old world food by the supplies he had brought. He had let it slip he was an opportunistic cannibal, eating man, ghoul and beast alike. He seemed to enjoy the situation, like it was a game and he was there to have fun. He had even started flirting with Elizabeth the Security guard. He was definitely smart, lucky and charming, though he seemed physically weaker and less enduring than the Lone Wanderer, and didn't have the best senses. He also seemed a bit erratic, with pyromaniac urges and a hatred for the Brotherhood of Steel.
The two were like brothers, both similar, yet incredibly different. This would be an interesting relationship.
"What brings you to Vegas?" The Courier asked.
"I found something. I was out scavenging, for Water Filters and spare generators and things like that."
"Why?"
"I live in a Vault, Vault 101. I convinced them they need a guardian, and they eventually retracted a previous exile sentence. I'm getting older, and wanted to have spare supplies to look after my family when I'm too old to fight."
"What family?"
"I married the Overseer, Amata. We have a three year old daughter and another kid on the way."
"OK, so you were scavenging and…?"
"I found something. There was this emergency radio tower built before the war that was built like a fortress and I was going there to steal its water filter. I found the massive steal door blown open, and about a dozen people inside, all killed by a shots to the head with 5.56mm Rounds. There were caps still left everywhere, and no one was taken, so it wasn't slavers or raiders. There were mines left everywhere to kill anyone else who showed up. I nearly lost my legs to one of them."
"So you're rounding up soldiers to find them?"
"I know where they are. The Attackers lost an Eyebot in their attack, and I managed to reboot its hard-drive. I found out quite a bit of information. The attackers are known as Operation Shǎndiàn. It means Operation Lightning. They're a Chinese group founded before the Great War. They were mostly wiped out, except for something called the Shìjiè Shí Zhě, or the World-Eater."
"What is it?"
"It's like a Vault-Submarine hybrid. It was built to be able to survive indefinitely, and stay off the coast of America, launching nuclear missiles at any points deemed necessary. The Eyebot had a map with points on it, I assume the targets. As far as I'm able to tell, every point corresponds with the location of a Vault."
"So you need to stop them wiping out the Vaults?"
"The Missiles will kill a lot of people. They're designed to destroy vaults, and because of their blast radius they'll hit New Vegas, Necropolis, Vault 101, Vault City, Shady Sands, New Canaan, Little Lamplight. I can stop that"
"Where's the World-Eater now?"
"New York."
"Where's that?"
"At the East Coast."
"So why the hell are you here?"
"There's a facility here, built into a mountain. I'm planning to head up there and see if I can find some mention of the World-Eater."
"The Big MT? I've looked through every terminal there, talked to every Brain and read every book there. There's no mention of any Chinese Submarines."
"None? Damn. I guess I'm heading back East. I'll track them down from there."
"You're leaving already? Well, you're going to need more than the useless men you have now. I'll go."
"I'm fine the way I am."
"You're recruiting. I have guns, two trucks and soldiers. You're going to need the men if you're going after the Communists. I've heard enough lectures from my Book Shoot to know they're evil."
"My men are all I need."
"Vault 21 is in the middle of the Strip. If that gets hit, I die. My friends die. Everything dies."
"Fine. We'll need the men anyway."
The Courier grinned.
"You won't regret this. Well, you probably will, but it's too late now."
The Lone Wanderer heard a yell from outside, and drew his Laser Rifle. He ran outside, followed by the Courier. Butch was on the ground, clutching his bloody face. The Cowboy Girl was standing above him, holding a broken whiskey bottle. The rest of the Courier and his men were facing off in a Mexican Stand-off, guns drawn.
"Calm down!" The Lone Wanderer yelled.
"What happened?" The Courier asked.
"The bitch hit me!" Butch yelled.
"He asked me to go have sex with him for five caps. The little shit should watch his mouth."
The Courier laughed.
"This is going to be fun. Cass, please refrain from hitting them. You should all put down your weapons, and introduce yourself. We're going east. Send someone from the Mojave Express to tell House."