Fallout: NEW VEGAS
"Just burry him and let's go!" Shouted the man in the checkered suit. "And do it right to, I don't want him to wake up and follow us, you idiots." "I swear… Mojave Wasteland Couriers after me, I rather shoot myself!"
"I don't think he'll wake up boss, you shot in the dome." Argued a henchman. "Who cares about those Couriers anyway?"
"Who cares…? I care. I enjoy living, thank you very much! Have you heard of Courier six?! He's killed more men than the entire NCR put together!" The man in the checkered suit continued.
"Fine, you don't have to rant… jeez." Mumbled the henchman.
So the men buried the courier quickly and went on their way. There the courier was. Unconscious atop a hill that loomed over a troubled town. The town that would soon seek justice and revenge.
I woke to see an old man looking over me. He was wrinkly and weathered, much like the Mojave Desert. He had empty brown eyes and had a white mustache that was completely out of person.
I started to get up, then the old man said "Whoa take it easy now, you've been out cold a couple of days."
With a puzzled look on my face I took the statement in and considered drawing my revolver. Then I realized I was in only briefs and a white undershirt.
"What's your name son?" the old man asked.
"I… don't know." "I don't remember anything." I answered. I thought to myself "besides the fact… I'm a courier.
"Well that's no surprise, you were shot. Only a graze by your right ear though." "You're damn lucky to, only person I've seen survive a shot to the head . And I've been around a while." The old man remarked.
"Well thanks for stitching me up sir, but I should be going." I said.
"Oh, stay a while and let me ask you a few questions." Then you can be on your way." He insisted.
"I guess it's the least I could do. You did save my life after all."
The courier and the old man walked over to an old psychiatrist's couch and sat down.
"So what's your name?" I asked.
"Everyone around her calls me doc Mitchell." He responded.
"Well thanks again doc." I praised again. "So how long have you been a doctor?"
"Oh, I'm not a doctor. But I'm the closest you'll find out here." He answered. "I do take pride in my needle work, used to knit with my mother when I was young. Until those blasted Fiends dragged her off!"
"I'm sorry." I sympathized.
"Thank you… well that was the past and this the present." He quietly said. "Now then, you were alone and carrying an envelope. I'd say you're a Courier." He stated.
"Uh... yah, I am." I said in amazement. Not many people recognize a Mojave wasteland courier." I congratulated.
"Well like I said, I've been around a while." He repeated. "So just what were you carrying?" doc asked. "I have no clue." Was my best answer. "So doc who brought me in?"
"It was that damn robot." He harshly replied.
"What's wrong with robots, the Protectotron models are usually kind?" I asked.
"It's no Protectotron; it's one of the Vegas Securitrons." He said darkly.
"Way out here? I doubt it." I protested. "Well, is he hostile?" I asked.
"No, the complete opposite. He's nice, too nice." He complained. "A brain dead heap of scrap metal!" "If it had less armor, I'd blast it to pieces." He threatened.
"So, were exactly am I?" I asked.
"You courier, are in Good Springs.
A compilation of questions and answers were bounced back and fourth. The courier figured out the town was at war with a small group of bandits named the "POWDER GANGERS" Almost completely extinguished from the waste and locked away in the NCR correctional Facility. But there was recently a riot and the facility was overthrown and taken in to Powder Gang control. The gang terrorizes the nearby settlements of Good Springs, Primm, and New Vegas.
"Doc, I want to help you bring peace to your town." I implied. "But of course I will need supplies and maybe a militia."
"That sounds great!" I'll alert sunny now!" he said gratefully. "Wait you need to know the town anyway. Why don't you head down to the bar and tell her in person." He suggested. "Oh, and take these."
He handed the courier a blue sweat suit-like outfit with a large "22" printed on the back of the torso. Resting on top of the outfit was a watch-like device that read "Pip Boy 3000" above the screen. The courier suited up and was handed a small gun case. The gun case contained a 10mm pistol and a box of bullets. After which doc tossed a combat knife to the courier.
"Check Chet's general store for further ammunition, weapons, or modifications." "By the way, here, take my caps. You do remember our currency system right."
"Well not NCR or Legionary currency." I admitted.
"I don't think anyone does. Including myself." He laughed. "Now head across town, and talk to Sunny Smiles. By the way she has a cheesy name but she's tough. Oh, and watch out for Cheyenne." He added.
"Will do Doc, thank you for everything." I thanked one last time.
"Don't think much of it courier. Just good people helping good people." He said.
The Courier opened a kind doctor's front door and gazed upon a small town. Only two blocks long and not much more in width. He looked past the city and saw sand, so much sand. The desolate Mojave Desert will surely be a challenge for his most important mission: kill the man that shot him!