It was a hot, sunny day in the Mojave Wasteland. Nothing out of the ordinary, of course, but people still felt a need to complain.
A young man walked through the desert, taking a drag of his cigarette before flicking it on the ground. He was wearing a large trench coat and to say that he was hot would be an understatement. He was absolutely boiling, but he had to keep a low profile. Nobody but his family knew his name and that's how he wanted it to be. He wasn't out in the Wasteland to make friends; he had a job to do.
To protect those that fought for justice.
Okay, maybe that sounds a little cheesy. But still, that was his goal; to protect anyone who actually tried to make a positive difference in this shit-hole. It was time for a change in this dusty place that he called home, but with idiots like the Legion and the NCR constantly at odds, nothing was going to change anytime soon.
Now you might be wondering, why does he care? Peace? Who cares about that? As long as your life is going smoothly, who cares, right?
Wrong! This young man was different from the others. Sure, everyone in the Mojave had rough upbringings, but this young man was determined to change that for children in the future.
But, honestly, he personally didn't have that rough of a childhood. His father was in the NCR, so his family was well off. He only had one younger sister, 7 years younger than him, so he wasn't ignored or neglected by his family.
The only negative thing in his life was that his mother died shortly after his sister's birth. He never held his sister responsible for their mother's death because it was just a normal cycle in the Wasteland. Pregnancy and childbirth were very rare things to come by, as most people became sterile at young ages from playing around high-radiated areas. But his mother was a house-cat and very rarely went outside of the house her entire life. That was a common thing to come by. Some families were so concerned with carrying on their family name that they didn't allow their daughters/wives any freedom. The women were to stay in the house and the men would be very careful to watch their Geiger counters when they left their house. It was a tedious job, but if you wanted to continue your family's lineage, it was necessary.
Back to the young man; he may have had a cushy life compared to others, but he wanted to make a difference in this world.
His father travelled many places with the NCR and brought back plenty of stories to tell his children. The young man's favorite story of all-time was the story of the Lone Wanderer of the Capital Wasteland. It was a region far to the East that was being controlled by an 'evil president' who...well I'm sure you've heard this story.
But, this young man's favorite part of this story was when his father would tell him about the Mysterious Stranger; a man who did his part to aid the Lone Wanderer and helped him win the war against the president and his army.
Sure, it was cheesy to some people, but this young man really believed that justice had to be served to those equally 'evil people' that lived around here. And there were plenty of them; from the large groups like the Legion, to the smaller ones, like the Great Khans, the Fiends, or the Powder Gangers. These people would torture, kill, rape, whatever they could do to have control over so-called weak people. Really, there's nothing weak about being ganged up on by five other guys; it's just unfair. And that's what made this young man want to cleanse the Mojave of these creeps. They think they are big, bad bullies, but really, they are cowards. If you cornered one of them by themselves, they were sure to cower and beg for their life.
But we're getting off topic here. Our mysterious young man continues walking to a small town called Goodsprings. Seems like an odd place to travel, considering that there is nothing unique about the town, but if you listened to the news, you would know.
It started when the young man was working on some new modifications for his weapon, a .44 magnum. He was listening to Mr. New Vegas chat about the news. Listening to Radio New Vegas was a guilty pleasure of his, but it was a great way to get caught up on any news. And when it came to interesting, boy did Mr. New Vegas know how to deliver!
"A package courier that had been shot in the head near Goodsprings has reportedly regained consciousness. She's making a rather speedy recovery. Boy, that's one delivery service you can count on, folks!"
The young man stared at his radio in awe. Shot in the head and still alive? Could this be the next big hero that he'd been waiting for? He quickly stood up, grabbed his gun, and ran to the next room to get his trench coat and hat.
It all sounded way too good to be true, but he couldn't just sit here and wait to see if this female courier was going to get some type of revenge. Sure, this situation was nothing that could forever change the Mojave Wasteland, but it was a start and could be some good practice for the real thing.
After telling his grandmother and sister goodbye, he headed out for Goodsprings. He lived near a place called Primm, so Goodsprings wasn't too far away. However, he would not go straight into the town. He planned on traveling more near the Sloan area, maybe staying there for the night, and then traveling to Goodsprings. He didn't want to seem obvious what his intentions were, though he doubted that anyone would really notice.
So here he was: the 'grand' town of Sloan. He could take the whole town into his entire view. It wasn't even really a town at all.
"Whoa there, fella. Not sure why you've come this way, but we got a major Deathclaw problem. Unless you want to help, I advise you not to travel much further this way," an older man told the young man.
The young man gave a nod, acknowledging the elder, "I'm sorry. I don't have much experience fighting those things. I was actually wondering if I could maybe get a bed for the night?" He flashed some caps in his palm, hoping it was enough to convince the man.
The older man gave him a toothy grin, "Of course. You'll have to room with the workers, but I'm sure that's fine, right?"
The young man nodded, handing the caps over to the older man, who guided him in the direction of the mess hall.
To be continued...
hello everyone! hope you all enjoy my story so far. we'll meet the courier in the next chapter!
leave reviews or pm me questions and/or errors.
this chapter has been edited as of September 2014, so if you're a returning reader, something might seem a little different. :)