Chapter 3: The Start of a Journey
Raul Tejada was sitting in front of his shack, looking towards New Vegas, it was evening, and the bright lights of the city were starting to turn on. Raul was waiting for the Courier. He had received word earlier that day that the Courier would be stopping by to have some of his equipment repaired by "his favorite pile of rotting flesh," the messenger (who was a ghoul) was surprised to see Raul chuckle a bit at this "insult".
"Boss is still the same old pendejo, good to see being leader of the Mojave hasn't changed that," Raul thought when he received the message.
Raul had put on his mechanic outfit again, having long since put up his cowboy outfit for the second time in his life. This time, it was to help people in a different way, now that law had been restored to the Mojave, his mechanic skills were proving to be more useful than his gun slinging.
Finally, he could see the Courier walking over a hilltop, in the duster that he wore the day of the Second Battle of Hoover Dam, the duster with the number 21 emblazoned on its back. Raul got up from his table and went over to shake the Courier's hand.
"Hello boss, long time no see. How's being the king of the Mojave going for you?"
The Courier laughed and patted Raul's back. "Boring as Hell, Raul. I swear, sometimes I wish I never solved the Mojave's problems. You know how many times I've wanted to put a bullet between my eyes 'cause of how bored I've been?"
"Enlighten me, I'm sure your answer will provide me with great insight into that complex mind of yours."
"Yeah, unfortunately these damn monocytes and the Think Tank's modifications would keep me alive and give me a hell of a headache." The courier uncapped a bottle of whiskey and took a swig and offered some to Raul. "Thirsty? Being the king of New Vegas does have it's perks."
Raul took out a bottle of tequila in response. "No thanks boss, got my own. Made it myself."
The two of them toasted and looked out over the Mojave Wasteland. "It sure has come a long way boss, when I met you, I never would have thought you'd be the guy to rule over this place, let alone drive out all the raiders and take out both Deathclaw nests. How'd you do that anyway, you use that Esther?"
The Courier chuckled a little. "No way would I use Esther for something like that! I just used an anti-material rifle, a riot shotgun, and a trench knife. Wasn't too hard, mother was actually the easiest."
"I heard you killed her with your bare hands."
"No, trench knife through the roof of the mouth into the skull, got lucky...again." The Courier sighed. "I swear Raul, I hate being lucky sometimes, just takes the fun outta everything knowing the odds are always tipped in your favor."
"Maybe you could give me some of that luck boss, sure could use it."
"Trust me, if I could I'd give it to you." The Courier went to take another swig of whiskey, only to realize his bottle was empty. "Hey, you mind?"
"Help yourself." Raul said, passing his tequila to the Courier.
"Well, enough chit-chat Raul, I think you know what I'm here for." the Courier said as he filled up his whiskey bottle with Tequila. "I need some maintenance done to my weapons, I'm going on a new quest and could be gone for a while."
"Where you heading?"
"Well, actually, that brings up another thing I was gonna ask," the Courier said, looking out towards the East, "How old were you when the Great War happened?"
"Twenty-nine."
"Did you ever travel outside of Mexico?"
"No."
"Crap, well, thanks anyways," The Courier sighed.
"Where you going, boss?"
"Well, the quest I received said I needed to go to someplace in the southeastern American Wastes."
"Maldito! You going that far? What's the quest about?" Raul asked, looking at the Courier in surprise.
"Raul, you were there when I got the message about the Sierra Madre," the Courier said, locking eyes with Raul, "did I care to research the damn thing? No. What's more, you were also at the High-Roller Suite when I dropped off Arcade before I went to Zion. Did I care about the location I was going? No; I went to those places because I was curious, and I wanted a fresh experience," he finished, looking back towards New Vegas.
Raul stared at him for a few moments.
Whether the Courier didn't speak for a while because he was sorry that he snapped at Raul, or because he was starting to wonder if his luck would run out on this venture, neither of them could say.
"...Besides," the Courier mumbled, "doesn't help that I'm bored out of my damn mind."
The Courier pulled out some stuff from his backpack, along with his Pip-Boy, dropped the stuff next to Raul's feet, said "Nice talking to you," and then walked off towards New Vegas. After about a few moments he called back towards Raul and said, "Need that all fixed in a week."
Raul watched the Courier walk off and said quietly, "Sure thing boss."
