Chapter 1: Same ol' Crap
At the top floor of a casino, that many say is a myth...in an ancient city of sin and loss, where fortunes were made and fortunes were spent, a man stands above. He had taken on the legions of Caesar, wrestled with the two headed bear, and perhaps the greatest of all they say...killed a god.
This man, is The Courier.
Every beginning has an end, and every end...a beginning. This is the story of The Courier's last quest, one that would take him halfway across the desolate Wasteland that was once one of the Old World's most powerful nations. He may find technology, treasure, secrets of the Old World.
Or...perhaps an equal.
At the moment, the Courier is looking out into the Wastes from his fortress. Not thinking, just watching.
Watching...
Watching...
... "I'm so *&%#ing bored..." he says without thinking.
"Maybe I can fix that," a familiar voice said.
Veronica stepped out of the nicely padded elevator, carrying her clipboard filled with the weekly reports of the various groups and factions throughout all of the Mojave.
"The Fiends are trying to set up a new main base inside of Vault 11 it seems." Veronica said. "Cassidy said she should have that taken care of in a couple of days, all she needs is a couple...hundred...pounds of...dynamite. Boone is also reporting that the NCR is finishing scavenging through the remnants of Caesar's camp and should be out of the area in about a week."
The Courier then realized that it was Monday, the day of the week that Veronica usually gave the reports of what's been happening, as the Courier rarely left The Strip by any method other than Transportalponder.
As Veronica continued to drone on, the Courier began to think of a strange sight he saw a couple of weeks ago, as he stalked the Alpha deathclaw of the Promontory. He was just fresh off a kill of one of the young deathclaws, quite possibly the Alpha's favorite, as it seemed to stop and sniff its corpse and mourn its loss. This was when The Courier took the shot, and allowed the father to reunite with his son. As he continued patrolling the Promontory, looking to finish off the mother deathclaw, he came across a sight stranger than even the Think Tank. There, leaning against the blood stained rock, was an Enclave soldier, and to his left, a Brotherhood Paladin. Both were long dead by this point, ripped apart by the inhabitants of the Promontory.
The Courier marveled at this sight, for it seemed two forces, so unwavering in their hatred for each other, were able to join together to fight a much greater enemy.
The Courier then realized a shadow was being cast upon him: a very tall, ominous shadow. He sighed for a second, as the Mother deathclaw roared and began to lunge at him. The courier drew a combat knife from his hip, and stabbed the Mother deathclaw through the roof of her mouth, going into her brain and killing her instantly. As her body became limp, he could feel the weight pressing down on him. The Courier stepped to the side, with the familiar chime of "CRITICAL HIT" ringing out from his Pip boy. "Critical hit." He thought, "Man, that wasn't quite as much fun as I'd hope it would be. Sometimes I hate being so lucky."
"Hey! Are you even listening!" Veronica yelled in an almost insulted voice and the courier snapped back to reality. "I do all this work for you, compile the reports, negotiate with the NCR, make the medical supplies, and keep that heap of a power plant of yours from breaking down! The least you could show is some gratitude and listen to what i have to say!" The courier just stood there looking out the window of the lucky 38 towards the Long 15 wondering what was beyond the Mojave, as well as what adventures he could be having right now if he wasn't bogged down with making sure it didn't implode. Realizing the Courier wasn't even paying attention anymore, Veronica walked back to the elevator. "Fine then, I'll tell you about the signal next week!" And she boarded the elevator. The Courier followed her, and as the doors started to close, the Courier stuck his foot inside looking at her curiously. "What...signal?" He asked as he popped open a new bottle of whiskey and started to chug it.
"Well, I figured that you would be jumping for joy at this news, but if you're just going to burn through another month's supply of beer-"
"Whiskey"
"Whatever! Then I'll just send out a Brotherhood scouting party instead." With that, the Courier threw the bottle at the wall behind her, and roughly took the clipboard from Veronica.
"What is it?" The courier, flipped through the clipboard, squinting to try to read the print.
"A new quest."
The Courier's Pip-Boy made a ringing noise, the Courier looked at it to find a message that he had only seen five times before.
A message telling him that a new area was opening for exploration.
The Courier stared at Veronica with blissful glee at her words. The next second, he embraced her with a bearhug that would have broken a Deathclaw's spine. Veronica, half startled, half fearing for her life, punched The Courier with her power fist, sending him flying into the reinforced glass of the Lucky 38's window, causing it to fracture. The Courier proceeded to pick himself up, and Veronica watched with chagrin as the monocytes in his body began repairing the damaged bones and skin caused by her superheated Saturnite fist, a gift from The Courier's journey to the Big MT. As the elevator door closed she thought of how a wasteland doctor could have gotten a technology like the monocytes.