War. War never changes.
When atomic fire consumed the earth, those who survived did so in great, underground vaults. When they opened, their inhabitants set out across ruins of the old world to build new societies, establish new villages, forming tribes.
As decades passed, what had been the American southwest united beneath the flag of the New California Republic, dedicated to old-world values of democracy and the rule of law. As the Republic grew, so did its needs. Scouts spread east, seeking territory and wealth, in the dry and merciless expanse of the Mojave Desert. They returned with tales of a city untouched by the warheads that had scorched the rest of the world, and a great wall spanning the Colorado River.
The NCR mobilized its army and sent it east to occupy the Hoover Dam, and restore it to working condition. But across the Colorado, another society had arisen under a different flag. A vast army of slaves, forged from the conquest of 86 tribes: Caesar's Legion.
Four years have passed since the Republic held the Dam - just barely - against the Legion's onslaught. The Legion did not retreat. Across the river, it gathers strength. Campfires burned, training drums beat.
Through it all, the New Vegas Strip has stayed open for business under the control of its mysterious overseer and his army of rehabilitated Tribals and police robots.
Kimiko Tohomiko was a simple courier, hired by the Mojave Express, to deliver a package to the New Vegas Strip. What seemed like a simple delivery job has taken a turn…for the worse.
~.~.~.~.~.~.
When she came to, she realized she was kneeling. As her eyes blearily opened, she looked down at her hands. They were laid on top of her lap, and were bound by a thick, tight rope. No matter how hard she tugged at it, it didn't move. She took in deep breaths, calming herself before she ended up in a panic attack. The air smelled awful, heavy humidity and an ugly stench-too similar to that of dead bodies.
"Got what you were after. So pay up!"
"You're cryin' in the rain, pally."
"Guess who's wakin' up over here."
Kimiko looked up, and saw that she was surrounded by three men. Behind them, the golden lights of New Vegas shimmered in the horizon. Her vision sharpened, and she saw that the guy at the middle was wearing a checkered suit. If she hadn't been in a dangerous situation, Kimiko might've thought that it was the tackiest thing to have ever been worn in this side of the Mojave. However, her attention was on more important things, like the shovels in the other goon's hand, and the hole she realized she was in. Her breath quickened when she caught notice of the other crosses in the area.
She was in a graveyard.
"Time to cash out," Said the suited man. He had been smoking a cigarette, which he took out of his mouth and threw on the ground. He put it out with the sole of his shoe, before turning to the courier girl.
"Will you get over with it?" Urged one of the goons at the suited man's left. Kimiko glanced over at him, before focusing back on the suited man, who held up his hand to silence the goon.
"Maybe Khans kill people without looking at them in the face, but I ain't a fink, dig?" Said the suited man, glancing back at the Great Khan goon. The goon growled at him, and the suited man just chuckled before looking back at Kimiko.
The suited man raised a hand to the left lapel of his god ugly suit, before taking out a small chip. It seemed to be one of the chips usually seen in casinos, only that this one was platinum colored. The man looked at Kimiko with something close to pity.
"You made your last delivery, kid," Said the man, with mock sadness in his face, while placing the chip back in his coat, "Sorry you got twisted up in this scene."
Kimiko's eyes widened as she saw the suited man take a white gun out of his suit. She knew it was pointless to beg for her life, so she stayed quiet. At least it would be a quick, painless death. And, from the looks of it, she would be buried at a graveyard instead of her body being thrown out into the wastes, to be eaten by the cazadors.
"From where you're kneeling, it must seem like an 18-karat run of bad luck," Said the suited man, before aiming the gun at Kimiko's head.
"But the truth is… the game was rigged from the start."
XIAOLIN: NEW VEGAS
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(A/N): Self-indulgent fic; will update whenever i feel like writing it, unless i see more ppl interested in it. if that happens, i'll try to update with more frequency, instead of once in a blue moon