It's just another day for this quiet little town. This little town, much like it's people, is simple and decent. Many would say it's far too decent for it's own good. Especially in this age. An age of dog eat dog. Survival of the fittest. A world where the strong thrive and the weak are crushed. But every once in a while, someone comes along. A Lone Wanderer, a Courier, a Sole Survivor. Someone who sees the weak and remembers that old passage. "Blessed are the meek: for they shall inherit the earth. "
The town of Goodsprings has always been a place filled with mostly decent people. And in the years following The Second Battle for Hoover Dam, the town saw itself grow in population, wealth, and just overall size. Upon entering, to the right you'd find the saloon and across from it a new hotel/whorehouse(much to the town Mayor's dislike), next to the saloon was the Goodsprings general store, which had expanded greatly, and across from that, the town jail/new sheriff's office. Next to the general store was Doc Mitchell's new medical clinic and across from that, an honest to God restaurant that sold nothing fancy, but foods that were simple, cheap, and healthy. Next to the medical clinic was a new church with steeple that housed a new bell and across from that was a general scrap shop. This was the main street. At the end of this, there had been a hill, but with the help of Easy Pete and a seemingly endless supply of dynamite the hill, along with Doc Mitchell's old house( he had been built a brand new one in the residential area along with everyone else), had been removed and in their place was a large new office. The Mayor's office. Three two story buildings built right next to each other. A Mojave express in the building on the right, the Mayor's office and living quarters in the middle, and an office for bounties and other job postings.
It's people were at a loss as to why so suddenly others came flocking to their humble little home. Only when those people coming in mentioned The Courier did they understand. While Trudy wasn't really sure she approved of The Courier kicking out the whole of the NCR and declaring herself the Ruler of the Mojave, she did appreciate the woman's sentiments. They had saved her life, so she had spread word that there was a little town with the potential to be much more.
And so the town grew and grew and grew. More people, more food, more buildings, more trade, more caps. While not a metropolis by any means, it did grow into a very successful settlement. It had all been going well, until one day it drew some attention the people didn't want.
It started friendly enough at first.
He came on the first day wearing a black old world suit and sunglasses, with caps to spend and a smile that won everyone he met over in seconds. Everyone except Trudy, who eyed him suspiciously but said nothing, fearing that maybe she was just being paranoid.
Malcolm Calvera, he called himself. And week after week he came into town. Spending caps at the saloon, dancing with the locals, leading them in song and drink. Even Trudy with her suspicions couldn't have seen what was coming. It happened so gradually, no one could believe it.
One night he came in with a friend. Then he came with another. And another. And another. One night he and his friends fought off a group of Powder Gangers to the cheers and applause of the whole town. That was the first time he spent the night in Goodsprings. The next day he offered a proposal to the people of Goodsprings, fair pay for protection from attacks like this. Before Trudy could even raise a hand, the town had unanimously agreed.
To Calvera's credit, the pay had been fair. At first. Over time the price was raised, from caps, to caps and supplies, caps, supplies, and food. To caps, supplies, food, and armor. And finally one day, everything. And on that day, he had come with not just a few friends, but an honest to God army. Well over two hundred men and women. All armed to the teeth. With weapons nobody in the town had ever seen. Calvera teased that this was only a portion of what he could do if they tried anything.
By the time Calvera had made his announcement the people of Goodsprings were in no position to refuse.
He had strode in, surrounded by his 12 of his armed guards, all clad in black armor and carrying laser rifles and automatic rifles the people of Goodsprings had never seen before. All except one that stood out in particular. A red headed woman with a pony tail, strode right next to Malcolm. Wearing dark sunglasses and a long black trench coat that almost hit her feet, and black boots. Trudy felt herself sweat just looking at her. Nothing seemed to phase her. The heat certainly didn't bother her. She had a fancy assault rifle the rest of them carried, along with two 357 Magnums. No longer did Calvera shake hands, wave, give hugs, or toss a cap or two at some of the local children. And no longer did anyone flock to him. Instead they kept a wide berth. The only thing that stayed the same was his smile. Although no longer did anyone find that charming. As he made his way down the main street to the saloon where Trudy kept her office, he eyed the people. And was subsequently amused at the way they shrunk back into whatever building they had been standing by.
Trudy stood outside her office at the end of the main street, arms crossed with a wagon by her side, full of the stuff they now owed Malcolm for his "protection."
"Hello there, Ms. Trudy," he began. He took her hand and kissed it. She had to try very hard to hold in her revulsion. "Looking as lovely as ever. Have you done something new with the bar? I love it!"
"There's your stuff, Malcolm," Trudy said in a deadpan tone while gesturing to the wagon,"just take it and leave, if you please."
He raised his eyebrows behind his sunglasses, amused,"Oh, come on now, Trudy. No need to be like that. We're gonna be partners for a very long time," he motioned at the mercenaries at his side to grab the wagon,"might as well get along."
Trudy scoffed, "You got some nerve."
He winked at her, "Yes, I do, Ma'am," he turned to his men, "all right boys, Lydia lets pack it up and head out."
The red headed woman stepped up to Trudy and just stared. Stared right through her sunglasses and seemingly through Trudy. She doesn't say a word, but her message comes across loud and clear.
"Lydia," Calvera calls back, "lets get outta here."
She steps away from Trudy and goes to follow her master.
Two of them dragged the wagon behind Calvera while the rest stayed at his sides. He glanced at both sides of the street, looking inside the windows for anyone watching. He had just turned his head to look when one his men screamed.
"Dynamite!"
Malcolm jumped behind the wagon in an instant, Lydia covering him as he went, and his men scattered. He crawled away trying to get as far from the explosion as he could. He crawled for several more seconds before he finally stopped and covered his head with his arms. Lydia over him, shielding his body with her's. He braced for the explosion and then...nothing. He looked behind him at the wagon. He waited a few more seconds and stood up slowly, Lydia helping him.. He crouched behind the wagon and peaked over it, eyeing the dynamite. He nodded at Lydia in thanks.
"Fucking dud," he said, he stood up, still not taking his eyes off it. He turned to his guards, "Get up!" They did. He turned to the townspeople in the shops,"Who threw this?! Huh?!" Nobody answered. "Oh it just fell out of the fucking sky, did it? Nah," he motioned at Lydia and pulled out his gun, a modded .45 caliber version of common 9mm pistol found in the Mojave Wasteland,"pull somebody outta one of the stores and bring 'em out here. Now." She nodded and headed towards one of the stores.
Trudy made her way to Calvera with Sunny Smiles right behind her, "Malcolm, please."
He held his hand up, "I tried to be nice, now stay back or it's gonna be you."
Sunny tried to make a move, but Trudy held her back, shaking her head. Inside the store a woman was screaming and a commotion was heard. Trudy cursed under her breath, in disbelief at all that was happening. After a moment, woman with the red hair came out and who she had made Trudy's heart sink.
It was a small boy, no more than maybe 10 years old. The boy's mother right behind him screaming as another man held her back. The boy was crying. Lydia was holding him up with one arm.
Even Calvera had his mouth open in disbelief,"Jesus," he said," a kid?"
Trudy felt her hopes go up, maybe he wasn't a complete monster.
"Want me to get someone else?" Lydia asked.
Calvera looked around, "No, it's fine. Give him here." She put the boy down and Malcolm grabbed him by the back of his shirt, pulling the boy to him. "What's you name?"
Trudy is about to step forward as the boy says his name when suddenly a voice cries out, "All right, there's no need for that!" Despite how loud the shout is, the voice is surprisingly even.
Everyone turns to see an old man in a prospector's outfit shuffling towards them from a building. For the second time today, Trudy's heart sinks into her stomach.
"It was me," says Easy Pete, "now you let that boy go."
"Damn, old man," says Calvera as he lets the boy run off," totally killed the mood here. I had a sinister countdown prepared and everything." He scratches his head with his gun, his finger still on the trigger.
Easy Pete gets closer as the town watches,"Well, no need for that either, Mister. You can just shoot me and be done with it."
Trudy moves forward, "Pete, please-"
Pete holds his hand up,"It's okay, Trudy."
"Yeah, Trudy," says Calvera," it's okay."And in one swift movement he lifts his gun and shoots Pete in the chest. The townspeople drown out Trudy's scream with their own as Malcolm starts barking orders," You two, get the wagon moving. The rest of you keep an eye on them. Anyone moves towards us, shoot them!" And to Trudy's horror he makes his way over to Pete, who is on the floor groaning and writhing in pain. "You stay with me, old man," Calvera says as he grabs hold of Pete,"you're gonna want to stay alive for this one." And he starts to drag Pete to the center of the street.
Sunny is about to let go of Trudy and fire at Malcolm when someone else beats her to it.
The bullet hits him square in the back, but instead of crumpling over he just keeps dragging Pete. If anything he treats it like a minor annoyance. He doesn't bleed. A bit of the suit peels back and reveals a fiber underneath. Something bulletproof and pliable.
"Fire, you idiots! Lydia, do the thing!" He yells. And his guards do as they're told. The fire wildly into the crowds of people on both sides of the street. Some people charge at his red headed body guard but she cuts them down in seconds moving with unbelievable speed and precision. Pink mist exits the back of people's heads every time she pulls the trigger on her assault rifle. People fall over and some fire back. None hitting their marks. Sunny grabs Trudy and brings her down to the ground keeping her covered. The guards only fire for a few seconds but it goes on for what feels like hours. By the time it's done, seven people are dead. Finally Calvera stops dragging Pete and looks up. "Everybody pay attention!" He yells as he starts walking away motioning for the guards to come follow him. When they're far enough away, he stops and speaks again, "I'll be back in three weeks! Have more of my stuff ready! I'm gonna have some of my boys stay here and keep an eye on you! But in case that isn't enough, some more are coming tomorrow. Aand, if that isn't enough, I got one more thing to say. So, listen closely!" He pulls out his gun and aims. And with horror everyone realizes what he's shooting at.
"Trudy, Sunny..." is the last thing Pete says before the bullet hits the dynamite next to him.
The saloon is in an uproar. Not a word can be heard clearly. Most people have stayed home, but there are enough in the saloon who want to talk things over. People shouting over each other desperate to be heard. Finally, Sunny fires a round.
"I understand that we're all upset, but nothing will be solved if no one can hear a fucking word being said!" Cheyenne barks, backing Sunny up. Sunny nods at her dog in thanks. "Now," she continues,"Trudy has the floor." She waves Trudy over, who steps up in front of everyone sitting down.
She is as nervous as she's ever been. She had liked it better when she was their leader unofficially, less chance of being looked to in an emergency. But when the town had grown to the state it had, being unofficial wasn't going to be possible anymore. Sunny had nominated her instantly, much to her dismay and the town had agreed. She was flattered at the time, but now she'd rather have been anywhere else.
Trudy clears her throat, fighting back tears, "Now, we can argue all day. We can shout all day. But that's not going to solve the problem. We have to actually do something."
"Like what?!" A familiar voice shouts. The familiar whine can only belong to Chet. A weapons and armor merchant who had been here even before The Courier had arrived. "What exactly are we supposed to do, Trudy?!"
"If you'd allow me to finish," Trudy says sharply," I will tell you. Now, I have no intention of giving that murderous son of a bitch one more thing," she straightens up,"we don't have the manpower or firepower or training or anything to do anything ourselves. But, we do have enough caps and other things to trade to hire people who can."
Another panicked citizen stands up, "But that's all supposed to go to Mr. Calvera! He's supposed to be back in three weeks! And he's left his guards here. What happens if we don't have what we owe him because we gave it to someone else or if he finds out what we're doing?!"
"And on top of that, he has an army! Who is going to want to fight against those odds?!"
"What choice do we have?!" Sunny exclaims.
"Then he kills us," Trudy says plainly, "and honestly I don't know about the rest of you, but I'd rather die than live my life in servitude to him."
"Goddamn right!" Sunny says.
The crowd stays quiet for a moment and Chet is about to complain again when someone says, "Hell yeah!"
"Fuck Malcolm!"
"Let's do this!"
"For Pete!"
And everyone starts nodding and affirming their next move.
"All right," Trudy says, wiping a tear away,"any ideas of where we should look? Or who we should send?"
Sunny steps forward, "I will. And I know exactly where to go."
Trudy looks incredulous, "Oh really? And where's that?"
Sunny smacks her forehead mockingly, "It's obvious. We go to Vegas! The Courier can help us!"