Welcome to the first installment of the Courier Chronicles. This is where the Courier of the Mojave Express, Jeffrey recounts his moments in the Wasteland. First let me start off by saying I love the Fallout series since day one and I'm hoping to tell my own version of the story while sticking to major plotlines and keeping to the spirit of Fallout:New Vegas. With that being said enjoy.
Disclaimer: Fallout and Fallout: New Vegas is owned by their respective partners.

Isn't it ironic how a person's greatest achievements in life start with a terrible mistake or misfortune? Many modern-day inventions wouldn't be around if it wasn't for them doing the wrong thing at the right time. Moments like these can change the world for the better or bring about the greatest discoveries. For me delivering that tiny little poker chip was my "wrong thing". Despite the misfortune that little trinket gave me, it wouldn't have made me the man I am today. Truth be told, this could've happened to any of my former coworkers if it wasn't me. Hell I consider myself the luckiest man alive thanks to that chip. Funny yet sad thing is it lead to my temporary death.

Nothing could have prepared me for what I had to face on my final delivery for Mojave Express. It all happened so fast. The Great Khans were so silent when they ambushed me. I assumed was it was just the wind. In hindsight it had to be one of the biggest fucking mistakes of my life. All it took was for me to foolishly have my back exposed. Nothing but a blunt hit to my head and I was out like a light. You know for being such a bookworm, that was pretty dumb on my part but to be fair all I had on me was a 9mm pistol for protection. Lord knows those behemoths would have crushed me like the Radroach I was.

Here I was an eager young 22 year old going to one of most famous spots in all the Wasteland. I thought maybe after work was done and I was paid, I'd loosen up and have a little fun. I owed it to myself to indulge in the fineries of New Vegas. I wasn't the type to get out much. Being the nerd I was, I always had my head in all sorts of books and plus the occasional Grognag the Barbarian comic book. My personal favorite of course. Seeing that book smarts can only get you so far out in the Wasteland, something like this would have happened eventually, but god I really didn't want it to end like this.

When I awoke, it was the dead of night. My hands were bind tightly and fear instantly coursed right through my blood veins. My anxieties grew with my breath getting shorter and shorter.

"You got what you were after, so pay up!" echoed a gruff voice.

Then another spoke but this one was a lot more sophisticated. He obviously wasn't with the Great Khans, "You're cryin' in the rain pally."

My breath became a lot more noticeable and louder. One of the other Khans took notice, "Someone's wakin' up over here and he's wimperin' like a little baby."

With that punch to my pride I stood up trying to compose myself trying to hold back the tears building up in my eyes. I wasn't afraid to admit I was fearing for my life. All I was thinking was how much life I had yet to live. I was going to quit the Express once I earned enough caps and make something of myself. But thanks to this smug bastard in a tacky checkered suit I was going to meet my maker.

I swallowed my fear and did the only thing I could do, "Please… Let me go… Whatever you want from me you got… I won't tell anyone about this… I-I swear on it…" With that the tears started to fall.

"Jesus Christ, what a fuckin' pussy. What a damn disgrace." One of the great Khans taunted. I just didn't care anymore. All I wanted was my life.

The man that would seal my fate then spoke while pulling out that one poker chip that started this whole chain of events, "You made your last delivery kid. Sorry you got twisted up in this scene."

With that pitiful excuse for an apology, I stared him down with my fists bunched up in anger. But that soon dissipated when he pulled out that huge pistol of his. I was going to die and there was nothing I could do.

My elusive captor said these final words, "The game was rigged from the start." I may have not known it at that time but I'd soon find out what he meant.

With the click of that trigger, my world became dark. The darkest it's ever been. There were no angels to lift me up to the gates of heaven or any demons to drag me down to the deepest depths of hell. No nirvana, no deities, no life after death, nothing. Just the cold, harsh darkness of death.

I really hope you enjoyed this first installment of The Courier Chronicles. I hope to make this into a full fledged series with my own special twist on the original story. Reviews and critiques are very much appreciated.