The salamander of new Vegas
Part I, welcome to the Mojave
The Mojave Desert: 2281
The courier strolled along the darkening Mojave Desert, humming 'jingle jangle jingle', as ED-E played the accompanying music in sync. Annoying as the song was, 6 (as he liked to be known) had it stuck in his head 'harder than some head splitter whisky' as Cass would say
Tired of the nonstop parties of new Vegas, the slum's of free side and the creepy brains of big mountain, 6 had decided to take a walk.
As the music reached its climax, a almighty boom rumbled through the previously peaceful dessert. A spear of light shot through the sky, slamming down onto the soft sand of the Mojave a few hundred meters ahead, where it stood, smoking. The courier jogged up to it, whilst ED-E beeped worriedly. As the smoke cleared, the object became clear; it was about 3 meters in height, and a dark green, with black detailing. I looked like a unopened flower. Reaching forwarded, 6 suddenly stopped. The last time he had touched something that fell from the sky, he had been lobotomised and forced to work for the think tank. Not that it didn't end well, but still...
Suddenly, the sides of the pod slammed down, like petals of the aforementioned flower "what's with the flower references today" thought 6, probably to distract him from what emerged from the ruptured pod.
Courier 6 did not scar easily, and not in the way a fiend or a great khan did. He had been dug out of his own grave, killed death claws and had his own brain removed. But the ...THING that emerged from the vessel was enough to make even him step back.
Standing two and a half meters tall among helmeted dead of similar size and stature, wearing armour the same shade of green as its craft, it was intimidating. But the worst was its face: black as the night, and its eyes, its eyes burned in the twilight, like the fires of Nipton.
With a speed most rangers would be envious, 6 drew his ranger sequoia, and aimed at the creatures head. Whilst it was bipedal, it was far too big for any human.
"I recommend you put the gun down," growled the huge figure "I don't want my first act on this planet to be the taking of life"
Nodding, 6 slowly returns the revolver to his holster, and stuck his hand out
"Courier six, or just six"
"That is a title, not a name" noted the armoured figure
"Yeah, I get that a lot."
Making a grunting noise, the marine grasped the outstretched hand
"Brother Sergeant Ba'ken, fire born of the salamanders."
"What of the what now?" the courier replied, confused
"Have you not heard of the space marines, or the imperium of man?" Ba'ken inquired
The courier shook his head
Ba'ken hesitated, before asking "tell me, what... What year is it and what is this planet called?"
"Well," started the courier, a little puzzled, "this is the year 2281, and this dusty hellhole of a planet is earth, or what's left of it..."
"By the golden throne," Ba'ken said, in near shock, "how can this be terra..."
"Nuclear warfare tends to do that, and where the hell is terra?"
"I, I don't know, what is this place called"
The courier grinned
"welcome to the Mojave desert, home of new Vegas, where we're always open for businesses..."