This is my first entry into any sort of public writing. I am already bracing myself for the inevitable fan rage that may come over my interpretation of the ending of the main game, but I hope you can give an honest opinion of the merits of my work.
Prologue
10 years….ten long years since the New California Republic, or NCR, fought and won the Second Battle of Hoover Dam against the wishes of the Courier. He had watched as NCR troops stood fast against the swarms of the Legion, their wall of brown dotted with the gray armor of Brotherhood of Steel Paladins and spiked with the black Brahmin leather of the Great Khans. The decimated forces of the Bull fled into their Legates camp, only for him and the Mojave Remnants to follow them and slay the infamous general. And as the coward known as General Oliver patted his back he felt his touch not as congratulations, but as heavy blows that pushed him into a state of depression and shame. He felt as if he had failed to protect the people of New Vegas, sending them into the same quagmire of overt ambition, jingoism and greed that he saw in the NCR. Despite this feeling, he was able to put up enough of a façade in order to publicly accept the accolades he received, and enough shade to protect him from the suspicious eyes of the NCR government. They knew that their victory was not his first option, and they were not fools. They saw that if he put his mind to it, he could have had them lose that battle, such was his prowess in all ways of diplomacy and combat. So he was not bothered as he left the Lucky 38 with a caravan of Securitrons hauling his belongings, nor was any eyebrow raised over the veritable armory of weaponry the robots carried. The Courier thought of leaving for Big Mountain, but he knew that somehow, some way, he would be tracked. He could not risk the NCR discovering the wonderland of miraculous technology that crater had within. The very thought of troopers marching into tribal camps, casting shadows over primitives with whatever technology the OSI managed to salvage was enough to give him shivers.
He decided, oddly enough, to make his home at the Securitron bunker; the place had plenty of room for the vast amounts of loot he had recovered from his travels. And the companions he had managed to hold onto would have plenty of living space. Raul, Cassidy, Veronica, ED-E and Rex made their home in the vast halls that once held what the Courier considered the saviors of the Mojave. Within 15 months, the Securitrons that survived the battle at the Dam had converted most of the vault into a home. There were still mounds of rubble there, but the impatience of the NCR to have him out the way forced the Courier to simply have the constructs move and seal off the remains. For almost nine years the Courier was unheard from, besides the Securitrons conducting what were little more than grocery runs to sustain him and his friends. A full nine years later he was surprised by a visitor. Ambassador Crocker, escorted by a squad of rangers, showed up at his front door and confirmed what the Courier had feared for a decade. Attacks, raids on isolated homesteads and the outlying territory of the sixth state of the NCR. People and animals torn to shreds, with no evidence to show the specific identity of the raiders…..until now. When the Courier known as Drake greeted-reluctantly- the politician and was later shown the recovered a body of those responsible, the memories came rushing back. Memories of darkness, of invisible fires, wide-eyed monsters, and torn walking corpses. Memories of the Divide.