Fallout: New Vegas and its content are the property of Bethesda.

AUTHOR'S NOTE: Female courier + Boone - some light romance, alot of cursing. The chapters are a combination of two styles - used a fairy tale like format when providing background information (stuff most of us know, but thought it'd give it a bit of a different spin) + first person narrative by the courier (made it feel more like the game to me this way). Courier has no name - call her whatever you like. It's my first story - tried to be accurate, but some of this might be considered AU (or not).

CHAPTER ONE - The Key Emissary

Once upon a time, their were three kings. The first was the great Imperator. His army marched under the flag of a powerful Red Bull. This king was merciless, his laws harsh, and forced his people to live by the old ways, rejecting all progress and things new. The second was the Militant, with an army that rivaled that of the Imperator and flew under the flag of the Two-headed Bear. Rule under this king was more progressive, but the people where heavily taxed and his ambition for continuous expansion often left his soldiers spread too thin to be effective. The third, the Autocrat, was a spellbinding wizard who had the ability to manipulate people into doing his will. He was the least powerful of the three in appearance and by far the wealthiest.

All three kings desired control of the MeadowsLand, a large expanse ravaged by wars of old but at its center contained an enchanted area that gave whoever possessed it unlimited power. The armies of the Militant liberated the heart of this area from the Imperator's army, and guarded it with their very being - using the power to help it's people and to strengthen it's hold on the area. But the other two Kings secretly plotted to take it away and destroy the other, patiently biding their time until they saw the right time to strike.

Now, the Autocrat was quite old and in his younger years had built a grand army of phantom knights. His army was kept secret from his enemies, but they were useless to him as he could not awaken them without a special key that was lost during the Great Cataclysm. The Autocrat sent seekers out for the key,and after 200 years of searching the key seekers finally succeeded at their task. The Autocrat desperately needed the key delivered to him, but feared a large protective convoy would attract the attention of his enemies. So he had his key seekers crafted 6 decoys of the key with each one given to a different emissary to be delivered to the City of lights, the home of the Autocrat. None of the emissaries knew what they were transporting, and the Autocrat hoped secrecy would deliver his key safe and unnoticed.

But this is not what happened. The emissary who carried the real key was ambushed by the Autocrat's most faithful liege who learned of his king's plans and wanted the army for himself. The liege and his minions ambushed the key emissary, tied her up, shot her in the head using a powerful lightning spell, and buried her. By all rights, the key emissary should have died that day - except the Autocrat was a bit wise after such a long life, and had one of his knights follow her. The knight dug her up and took her to a healer who restored her body but was unable to restore parts of her memory that were damaged by such a powerful spell. All she could recollect was the checkered tunic of the man who tried to kill her. The Key emissary, eager to find her attempted murderer and to learn why such actions were taken against her, set on a journey across the MeadowsLand for truth and vindication. And this is how her story begins...

Good Springs - 10 pm

Not much to say about a place like Good Springs. Just another small town out here in the Mojave wasteland - an old abandoned mining community turned living ghost town back in its day from what I understand. Wouldn't say there has been much improvement since then either - besides a few houses, the only thing out here worth mentioning is a general store, a saloon, and an abandoned school house run by some mighty angry green insects. And that concludes the grand tour. At least the people here are decent enough. Not sure why I keep coming back here, though. I was left to die here. Could say I was reborn here. Wish I could remember my life before I woke up at old Doc Mitchell's up on the hill, but I guess I should just be thankful I woke up at all. Most people don't take a round to the head too well.

"You should have walked away from this one," echoed an all too familiar voice from the end of the bar. We're in the Prospector Saloon - not sure the best way to describe this place. Has a bar, a juke box, a dog at the front door. No prostitutes, no gambling or slot machines, but the owner makes a decent moonshine, and it's always pleasantly dark no matter how eye-blindingly bright it is outside. In a way, the place is kind of comforting. Nothing ever changes here in Good Springs, and no one is ever in this damn Saloon. Well...except this visit. She was waiting for me. An older woman with a diminutive statue and short curly hair - would guess she's in her early 50s. I'm horrible with names, but I remember those dark, tear-swollen eyes. She came to meet the courier of Good Springs - the one who's been helping people across the Mojave wasteland. Been waiting here for weeks in hopes I'd stop by. A mother begging for help to find missing daughter, Stella, now eagerly waiting back in town for what I can find - how could I just walk away?

The man behind the voice stood up, grabbed his bottle of whiskey, and took a seat closer to me. He's taller than most, fair skinned, built like he's done his fair share of push ups in his life, and smells of tobacco, sweat, mojave, and gun powder. He wears a faded NCR 1st Recon uniform - tan BDUs with a set of small pockets going across his chest. Can't mistake that beret though - deep crimson in color that never seems to fade. Good ol' Boone.

I almost fell off my bar chair when he started pouring a shot of whiskey into my glass from his own bottle - maybe he thinks sharing may ease the pain of what he's about to say. He caps his bottle and leans toward me. "That woman's daughter is dead..best thing she could do is accept that and move on." I've been traveling with Boone around New Vegas for the last few months - ex NCR sniper. We've gotten alot of dirt under our feet together, gotten into alot of skirmishes - too many times I didn't think I'd live long enough to see my next drink. But we always managed to pull through. I'm not saying you can really get to know a person in such a short amount of time - but I know enough about him to know that he never talks - and when he does, I should give him the benefit of the doubt and listen. Especially if he's sharing his whiskey.

"Ranger station Charlie, Boone." My eyes meet his mirrored shades. His face has no expression, like he's made of stone. Never an expression with him. Ever. "That is what she said."

"I know what she said."

"But her daughter's not dead. The recording said she was taken hostage."

"Hostage? The Legion doesn't take NCR as hostages. Wait - you think they're holding her for ransom? NCR dollars to them are as worthless as Legion denarii are to the Republic. You may not have noticed, but most Legion camps don't have holding cells. They have crosses. For the Legion, NCR come in only two flavors: dead and dying. She may have been taken alive, but I guarantee she's dead now."

Don't really want to think about that. I turn away, returning my attention to my drink. I take a quick breathe and down the shot. Burns going down, but I don't really care. Seems like everything has been going numb lately - I haven't really enjoyed some of the things I've seen and had to do within the past few months. Sometimes wish I could start all over - just be a courier again. Imagine that might be better. I've grown weary of the nightmares - would be nice to actually put one of them to rest.

I look back over at Boone, and he's still giving me the hard stare. Guess I better come clean with what I'm thinking. "I stopped by Charlie on the way to Novac - the first day I met you. Everything was fine then - even played a few hands of caravan with some of the guys there before I left. When I met Andy and he said he lost contact, I figured the radio must have gone bad. I *knew* they were ok, I had just seen them." I pour myself another drink and down it just as quick before continuing. "But they weren't ok. Wasn't expecting to find anyone dead much less ALL of them. And they had been that way for a while - like it happened right after I left. Legion left the place a mess - bodies rigged with mines. But that holotape recording they left - boasting how they took that female NCR officer alive like there wasn't a damn thing anybody could do about it. Couldn't help but think - had I stayed a few hours longer...could have been me they were talking about on that holotape... Could have been me laying face down on a frag mine."

I go to pour myself another shot, but Boone grabs my glass and pulls it towards him. "But it wasn't you. Look - don't assume they told the truth on that tape - they left it to shake people up, mess with their heads. It's what the Legion is good at." He slides the glass back toward me and stands up.

I go to pour one last drink, except I miss the shot glass entirely and pour directly onto the bar. The surface wasn't quite level, and all my beloved whiskey starts dripping straight onto my gear bag. By the time I snatch it clear, I hear a quick zap, followed by some faint smoke. I reach inside and pull out the problem - whiskey went straight into a stealthboy I had sitting on top of everything. I frown as I try to shake liquid out of it. Goddamn it...just had to be the stealthboy. These things are expensive.

Figuring the universe was telling me I'd had enough, I turn my glass over. I throw the stealthboy back in my bag, and start gathering my gear to leave. "Suppose you're right. Figure I'm heading to bed. I'll break the news to the old lady in the morning - be done with this." Boone nods, gathers his rifle and gear, and starts heading out the door.

Right as he steps in the doorway, I say "Listen, I have some business I need to take care of here - nothing special. Some trading, working out supplies - that kind of thing. Nothing you need to stick around for. Why don't you head over to the Lucky 38, take a little breather. I left some caps in the nightstand in case you need anything. I'll meet up with you in a few days."

Boone raises an eyebrow, "What are you planning?"

"Me? Nothing," I cough. "I said it was done. I meant it... Just need some time to craft up some cactus water, repair kits, that kind of thing. Nothing more." Yeah, I'm lying. I don't know if I'm planning anything or not to be honest - just trying to give myself some leeway in case I decide to do something.

Boone says, "Alright. Meet up at the Lucky 38 then", and walks out the door.

I hang around the bar for a few minutes to give him a bit of a head start, throw my gearbag on my shoulder and then walk outside. The mojave sky is beautiful at night, casting the whole landscape in dark blue hues. My forearm is encased in a warm amber halo as I flip my pipboy on. I scroll through a few screens and flip the switch to play the holotape. It's a male voice.

...This is a message to the NCR from the Legion. We are coming for you. Run and we will catch you. Hide and we will find you. No matter what you do you are going to die. We took one of the women alive...*end recording*

So brief, yet goes straight to the point. We took one alive. I couldn't tell the old woman what I knew earlier - guess that makes me a coward I suppose. Sometimes it's better to not know the truth, but who has the right to make that decision when it comes to the fate of another's loved one? Me? Surely not. The NCR? Boone? I can't agree with that either. This woman came to me for help - for hope. Her daughter, Stella, is probably dead, but I can't tell her mother that unless I know for sure. Going to Fortification Hill, the heart of all Legion operations, by myself would be a serious mistake. Going with Boone would be even worse. But - maybe I don't need to go there direct. There is only one way in and out of the Fort - if I go there, maybe I can find the information I'm looking for.

I'm going to Cottonwood Cove.