"So, he and the raider 'disappeared' in a flash of blue light, you say?" said the man in the gas mask. He wore a duster, with the Old World flag on the back, and went by the name of Ulysses. He had an Anti Material Rifle on his back, Red Glare on his back, and a 12.7 mm SMG in his hands. Floating above him was a Medical Eyebot. It healed wounds rather quickly, and followed him everywhere. He was currently speaking to an armless man wearing a 'Powder Gangers' uniform. The one armed man had a friend, who wore a dead raider's clothes.
"Yessir. Your friend hasn't come back, and neither has the prick in power armor. We have been using this here checkpoint as a place to stay, until the food runs out." said the man in raider garb. He had an assault riffle slung on his back. The armless man was unarmed, too.(Ha!)"Ugh. He's always getting into trouble." said Ulysses. He took off his dufflebag, which he had taken for the trip to D.C, and pulled out his own Transportalponder. After the Courier had declared Ulysses his 'brother and bestie forever', he had traveled to Big MT, and forced the brains to produce one for Ulysses. The two were close. For some strange reason, Courier Six considered Ulysses his friend, even though Ulysses was the one who made Six go through the Divide, which was arguably his most dangerous adventure. Ulysses wanted the Courier to die, too. But, the true Courier convinced his that one man had the power to make, or break, a nation.
So, Ulysses decided to fight alongside the Courier, and to let him decide the fate of the Bear and the Bull. He had let go.
In the end, though, the Bear and Bull burned. Ulysses never questioned the Courier's choice, but he would admit, he was confused. After all, the Courier gave New Vegas to the Bear on a silver platter, but still launched a nuclear warhead at their main supply line.
After the nukes, the met up at the Divide's entrance. The Courier told Ulysses of how he head blown the head off Caesar, with only the help of an Eyebot and a First Recon sniper. They traded stories, and eventually the Courier managed to convince him to travel the Mojave with him. Ulysses was reluctant at first, but learned to adapt. They bonded, and watched eachothers backs. 'When said like that, I guess it makes sense that we became fast friends. That is why I must find him.'
Ulysses put his bag back on, and walked over to a dead raider. He knelt down, pointed the Transportalponder at the dead raider, and waited.
Nothing Happened.
"Huh. This is strange." said Ulysses. He pulled the trigger again. "Maybe somethi-"
A flash of blue light appeared, along with a portal above him. He was sucked in.
"Ronny, I think it's about time we left the Mojave. Forever."
In the city of Vale..."
Courier Six walked casually walked down the sidewalk. Dressed in his NCR Ranger Combat armor and helmet, he was pretty comfortable. He got a few weird glances, but nothing more than that. He stopped in front of a building, and read the sign. "Help wanted, huh? Well, I am the best Courier around, and I make a damn good merc. What is this place, anyways?" he said aloud. He then looked at the sign. "Cafe? The fuck is that?"
He walked into the cafe, and saw that it was some kind of bar, that served coffee. He saw there was no line, so he walked up to the counter. There was a young man working the counter, and he said "Hello… sir? How can I help you?"
"Well, I saw your sign on the door. What kinda help do you need? Need somebody dead, or mail delivered? I'm your guy!" said the Courier, as he looked off into the distance with both hands on his hips. The guy's eyes widened.
"U-uh, nooooo! We do-don't need anyone d-d-dead! Or mail delivered! We just need a barista!" yelled the man behind the counter. By now, the other customers had decided to look at the scene that was going on.
"Hmm. Basista, huh?"
Three hours and one job interview later…
"And stay out! We DO NOT put alcohol in our coffee!" yelled the manager. The Courier picked himself off the ground, and dusted off his jeans.
"Damn, someones got a stick in their ass." said the Couirer. "Well, I must be on my way. Gotta find a job somehow." As the Courier started walking past an allyway, he stopped when someone tapped his shoulder.
"Buddy, I couldn't help but overhear you say something about 'killing'. You wouldn't still be for hire, would you?" asked a man's voice. The Courier turned around, and saw a man in a bowler, that wore a white suit and had some bright, orange hair.
'Benny…' thought the Courier, when he saw the suit. This man reminded him of the bastard in the checkered suit. "Yeah, I'm still for hire."
"Perfect..."
