Fallout New Vegas:
The Courier Chronicles
The Desert
The empty halls of the famous Lucky 38 Casino stood dusty and hollow while the rest of the world outside makes noise of being drunk and cheerful greedy laughter in the Strip, the famous part of New Vegas. Outside the gates of the lights, chaos was all around in forms of vandals and gangsters, and Police Bots tend to the trouble pointing their lasers and use lethal force. It is all they're programmed for.
Outside the walls of the city itself, NCR keeps their guard protecting the walls from invaders, mainly Powder Gangers who have recently escaped from prison and now roam the deserts. But at the very outskirts of the abandoned buildings, the villainous soldiers of Caesar's Legion sneak around observing the structure and its defenses. They plot to someday take the city as their own and destroy their enemies for good.
But in the desert, outside the glowing white city where there is barely any life, four men stand around by a fire digging a whole at the length and size of a human body. One of them is Benny, who is wearing a fancy black and white suit with a burgundy red tie. He lit a cigarette and watched as his hired goons did what he paid them to do.
The courier they have captured wakes up to the voices of one of the goons talking to their boss. "You got what you were after. Now pay up!"
"You're cryin' in the rain, pally." The Benny responded.
The courier sees the binds tied around his hands and he tried to break free. But it was no use.
"Look who's wakin' up over here?" One of the goons said. The courier looks up and sees Benny in the middle of two of hired goons. One of them was carrying a shovel for what's next.
Benny makes his final smoke before throwing his cigarette to the ground and smashing it.
"Time to cash in." Benny said walking up to him.
"Would you get it over with." The leading goon pushed out of impatience. Benny lifts his index finger at him to silence him.
"Maybe Khans kill people with looking at them in the face." Benny told the goon. "But I ain't a fink, ya dig?"
Benny reaches into his suit pocket and pulls out the casino chip the courier was supposed to deliver. "You made your last delivery, kid." Benny said to the courier. He then puts the chip back where he got it and replaces it with something else. Something cold and deadly. "Sorry you got twisted up in this scene. From where you're kneeling, it must seem like an eighteen carrot run of bad luck."
Benny points his gun at the courier who is feeling all kinds of emotions of fear and hesitation. "The truth is…" He spoke what seems to be his last words to the courier. "The game was rigged from the start."
He pulls the trigger and shoots the courier in the head killing him.
Soon after, the courier was buried and left to be food for the worms. But a wandering Securitron came out of nowhere and dug him up. The Securitron took him to the nearest town where the courier, who is somehow alive, can be treated for the shot to the head.
Goodneighbor was the closest. With that, the robot took him there.
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, Mr. House, and his army of rehabilitated Tribals and police robots.
The Courier, Kevin Harris, was hired by the Mojave Express to deliver a package to the New Vegas Strip. What seemed to be a simple delivery job took a turn for the worst when he was captured and shot in the head. But out of luck, he was found and taken to Goodneighbor, where he is recovering from what happened last night.
This is the beginning of his adventures.