The Drifter kicking his leg during his slumber while the gleam of morning began to bloom, a slight groan and a swear from under his breath always marked the first words before waking back into the Hell hole that was the Mojave. Opening his eyes he looks at the "Good Luck Charms" as he calls them line the walls of an overturned tractor trailer container, they mostly consisted of destroyed or cracked Legion masks, and especially a pair of modified power armor. As of right now though, this was his last concern, he was just happy to be out of that horrible office. Not just any office mind you, but the office. Shivering just from the vile thoughts about it, he still had nightmares of the mountains of paperwork. From requests that required high command to verify to looking at shipment catalogs. It was Terrible. Sure, he was seeing awesome gear go by due to the manufacturing centers built (Almost wholeheartedly built by Big Mountain) It was still almost a pain to handle when they even manufactured way too many pieces of equipment. From the time that they forgot to make an 'Off' button for the T-45 manufacturing line leading to a huge bulk and surplus of power armor that practically is still being sold for free. Though, this small issue didn't bother him in the slightest, in fact, he was happy at where he was. He remembered spending his time as being the only companion to completely stick with both the Courier and the Lone Wanderer all the way to their deaths, and that while they have died, he has carried on their legacy. It was enough to leave a tear in his eye. But he didn't want to get emotional. He decided to reflect on everything that has happened and appreciate the chance he has had. All the way those years ago
Hailing from the south in Vault 109 with the luck of being birthed into the control variable of Vault-Tec's disgusting experiments. He lived a happy life, a life as normal as it could get living in a wasteland. He always cared to be the adventurous kind, the one that accepted the job to deliver letters to a village near the vault. It was always a short walk but it paid well with the caps, and being 12 at the time, he saw this as the perfect chance to prove his family he can venture to the other town.
"But, Dad! You know I can handle myself against the coyotes and the smaller Radscorpions!" The Younger Drifter pleaded to his father
"I'm sorry, but Raider attacks are getting more common around here. But I'll let this be your last run, and Ian has already agreed to go with you." The father looked at his son worryingly
"I get it…" The Drifter said dejectedly, and tuned and about face and walked away while a smirk grew on it 'Even if you don't agree with it… I'm still going to run the jobs.'
His final job while not interesting was going to be during the day, unlike when he usually does it during dusk.
Packing his gear. Food for the trip, his hunting rifle and the usual vault suit. He wasn't regretting this last job in the slightest as he was going to lie to his father. He was always the troublemaker.
"You know what you're doing dude?" Ian asked with a shaky voice.
"Yeah, of course I do. My dad only wants you with me because you're larger." The Drifter replies bitterly.
"But w-what if a raider appears?"
"Ian. What the Hell do you think we do?" The Drifter says while pointing at his rifle.
"But… That would kill him."
"No shit, Ian listen. I'm human too. I don't want to kill anybody. But if needed it's gotta be someone who has to do the job!"
Walking up to the metal gates of their town, The Drifter signals the guard to open the door and a few slight seconds the metallic doors creak on by opening outwards.
Taking the first steps out of the gate horrified Ian, he never left the town before and he kept thinking why they would they send him out. Of all the people Ian had to be the one, the one to escort his friend out, sure he was large, but he was gentle giant! It was probably that people saw it sad that he was almost 20 and was absolutely terrified of even approaching the town gates. Still, leaving the city and having someone experienced to guide him was uplifting slightly, just a little but he was still scared shitless.
"So… Ian, what's the chances of us running into a raider?" The Drifter asked with an innocent grin while walking down a dirt path
"R-R-Raider!? But I mean… What raider would do that?" Ian replied with a panicky vigor
"Oh I dunno. One that's so drugged out that they don't feel pain, or they're just really prepared or just ballsy. I dunno whatever floats yer' boat. I'd prefer a ballsy raider. Because it doesn't guarantee that they're drugged to High Hell and back or that they're gonna be waiting to ambush us with a minigun, for all we know, he thinks he can kill us all with a spork." The Drifter replied weighing out the options.
"Yeah… But… Let's just keep going like we have been doing…" Ian says while twiddling his thumbs.
"Yeah sure Ian…" The Drifter replies grinning evilly.
They arrived at the town, it was really a huge melting pot where you would see unlikely groups together. Remnant Enclave soldiers with retired Brotherhood of Steel members laughing in bars and washed up raiders deciding to turn their life around. It was actually a wonderful sight but Ian didn't see it as this. No, he saw this as the place where all the dangerous people congregated, anybody who had an ounce of what looked like that they had killed someone before Ian was afraid 'Maybe I should've played sick and stayed home.' Ian thought.
"Yeesh Ian, you look like you're about to shit yourself. These guys are cool." The Drifter gives an uplifting smile and pats Ian on the back,
"I-If you say so…" Ian replies back stuttering.
Minutes later, a man with scars that reeked with experience, a beard scruffier than steel wool, and hair as white as snow confronted the two boys.
"Hey there sonny! O'er here!" The enthusiastic old man bellows to the two boys.
"Roddy!" The Drifter shouted with glee and ran up to the old man like a child would do for his father after a long day's worth of work.
"Hey there kiddo! Glad to see you back again. What's been going on?" Roddy heartily laughs ruffling the Drifter's hair.
"Well, I was able to find time and get some Abraxo so I can rub out the rust on my rifle!" The Drifter gladly hands his rifle to Roddy, leaving Ian speechless at the transaction.
"I see, that one-piece bolt mechanism was the main reason that I even suggested this for your father to buy. It's nice and hardy. But hey, after you turn those letters in, I'll show you two something special, come by my place alright?"
"Yessir Roddy!" and with that, Roddy was off to the bar, probably trying to hit on that cute bartender he always liked.
A few seconds pass by until Ian decided to exist again and ask the Drifter a question.
"So… Who was he? He smelt of alcohol, and acted drunk a bit." Ian asked hesitantly.
"He's one of the coolest people you'll meet! He was an Enclave member before retiring. But that's not all!" The Drifter said excitedly, "He was part of the old, Squad Sigma. He "retired". Though he actually deserted when he found out that they were going to forcefully retire him to a life of office work."
"Oh… Shouldn't we hurry to deliver those letters?" Ian asked?
"Yeah, forgot about that almost" The Drifter replied, " It's over here by the general store."
Entering the Post office revealed a musty interior, full with letter boxes, and crates visible in the back. There was Cheryl who waved when the two entered the building.
"Hey Cub! Seems like you brought a friend huh?" Cheryl asked eyeing Ian with a lustful stare and a well-earned gulp from Ian "And a rather handsome one at that. Where'd you find him? He be good pickin's for a lady…"
"Oh come on Chery." The Drifter sighed, "Don't bust his balls…"
"Oh, I'm sorry that you brought in a fine young man," Cheryl said with mock offense.
"But anyway Cheryl, I got the letters I'll drop them off in the back." The Drifter said walking by her.
"Alright you do that," Cheryl called back.
Ian tried to slip by as well only to be stopped dead in his tracks by Cheryl
"Sorry, hun... Only for employees" Cheryl licked her lips making Ian shiver in utter dissatisfaction, "Not for nice hunks like you." Gazing up and down his body she freezes, "You're acting too innocent. I forgot you're a Vault Dweller huh? I doubt you kissed a girl before."
"Well…" Ian interjects.
"Sorry hun, your mom doesn't count" Cheryl blurts out.
"Oh…" Ian looks down embarrassed.
A few seconds pass until the Drifter sprints from the rear of the Post office.
"Come on! I wanna see what Roddy wants to show!" The Drifter does a death grip on Ian's shoulder and they hustle out of the post office and run across the town to see Roddy in the small house with his trusty bottle of whiskey in hand. A large blue tarp covers a large figure behind him and a few smaller towels wrapping up guns revealing almost making the Drifter jittering in anticipation
"Bout damn time you kids!" Roddy laughs with a gruff sound, "I wanna you something alright? But don't tell your folks about this, alright kiddo?"
"Yessir Roddy!" The Drifter excitedly bobs up and down.
Roddy pulls off the blue tarp with grandeur revealing the hulking mass of power armor. It's sheer size with the angled and sharp shoulder pads and smooth helmet with two gasmask filters were an awe inspiring sight to see. It was a direct sign of pure strength and protection. The rifles were then stripped naked from the rags that concealed them to show modified plasma rifles, custom made laser rifles, even an FN FAL.
"Roddy… Wh-what's all this?" The Drifter completely took aback by the entire display of weaponry.
"Well, you see… I'm getting old and I need a next of kin. So when my time comes kiddo. I want you to wear the power armor at funeral as my wish and it'll all be yours." Roddy almost whispers.
"I will Roddy…" The Drifter says with a smile on his face
"Yeah, kiddo. But your pa is probably worryin' about ya now. I think you should scurry on out." Roddy pats both the shoulders of the Drifter and Ian in a father-like fashion.
It's been an hour since leaving the town and it's already dusk as both Ian and the Drifter makes their way back home to their own town.
"Hey… So Roddy is really gonna give all that… To you?" Ian asks giving the Drifter a strange look.
"Why of course he is. He trusts me." The Drifter replies matter-of-factly.
The sky was already getting darker, but they would be back before the moon settles where the Sun was. This still doesn't comfort Ian who is horrified beyond all recognition
"Dude. let's hurry back…" Ian
"I know Ian, but the more panicky you get, the more nerve racking you are." the Drifter sighs out.
"H-how about I jog a little bit ahead?" Ian sputters in a fearful shiver.
"Fine, go." The Drifter says bluntly.
With confirmation, Ian doesn't just jog. No. He goes for a full sprint leaving the Drifter, absolutely horrified 'What a fucking puss' The Drifter thought.
A minute passes by, with Ian still in sight a raider suddenly jumps from the side of the trail covered in leaves and smashes Ian's face in with the butt of his rifle
"Ian!" The Drifter screams in fear. Horrified the Drifter pulls up his rifle and aims center of mass. One shot the raider is down and blood splatters Ian.
"Ian! Are you okay!?" The Drifter cries out. A few seconds pass with no answer until Ian finally heeds his answer, unluckily for the Drifter a giant metal fist grabs him by the shoulder with bone crushing strength and yanks him to the height of the villain.
A tall metal clad figure stands in a cocoon of makeshift metal plating standing almost 9 feet tall.
"You fucked with the wrong people you piece of shit!" The raider howls in the Drifter's face leaving him only to grimace.
The Raider throws the small frame into the forest and goes into a full charge to completely crush the Drifter, all he could do now was turn tail and run.
'Fuck, fuck, fuck, fuck' The Drifter thought. He ran with all his might in the other direction now lost in the dark forest. Running past the extra gang members turned and began to unleash a flurry of lead down range to the rapid retreating Vault Dweller. He kept his sprint even when his every breath began to burn like hot daggers he kept running, he didn't know where but he kept running until his legs completely gave way.
"Oh shit…" He huffs in between each word, "Ian is so fucked…" The Drifter's realization scared him to death knowing Ian might be dead or torn apart. But it didn't matter now. He was too far away to help and he was dead tired. So he began to huddle beside a tree surrounded by shrubbery and closed his eyes waiting for the nightmare to leave until sleep overcame him.
The Drifter was already up. Tired of looking at his little trophies he grumpily rolled his sleeping bag packed up his precious possessions and headed back into the Mojave.
"I swear, this beats the office by fucking miles!", The Drifter exclaims in delight of his freedom, "No fuckin' papers, no damn worries about running your own fucking military, No issues about Legion or NCR trying to play some funny shit. This is the life!" Looking left and right, the Drifter now had many locations to move to and explore now.
His first little journey will now lead to anywhere but the dump he crashed in last night.
Now, I hope this was a good introductory chapter to explain the character. His history with the Lone Wanderer and Courier 6, of course, the timeline is gonna be changed so he can stay a young age. But besides that. I hope you don't mind the horribly long chapter. I just want some introduction and lead up before the Drifter lands on Remnant. Please do review if you can guys. I'll respond to them in the Author's note here at the bottom.
