Chapter One
Eddie Morris woke up with his head in searing pain. He couldn't make heads or tales of anything around him, all he knew was that something horrible had happened. Fire surrounded him, his clothes were a torn mess, and he had a massive gash across his right shoulder. Taking time to gather his bearings, Eddie evaluated his situation. He was in an unfamiliar place, he knew nothing about himself except his name, his training, and the fact that he just survived something.
Wait, I have training, medical training! Eddie managed to recall. He stopped to check for any wounds, his gash being obvious, as well as having several minor scrapes and bruises. A deeper investigation revealed stiffness in his head, just above the temple. Likely, he took a blow to the limbic system and got amnesia. Eddie then moved towards the burning wreckage he supposedly came from, hoping to find clothes or a medical kit. He struck gold, sort of. The wreckage was a vertibird, meaning it would have an onboard first aid kit under the copilot's seat. It wasn't complete, only containing a single stimpack, some gauze, dressing, and one dose of Med-X. Eddie sighed and got to work. Eddie jabbed the stimpack into his neck, then placed some dressing over his shoulder to let the blood clot in his gash as he prepared the dressing to support his head. Lastly, he gave himself a half dose of Med-X to numb the pain somewhat, but keep his faculties in check. Eddie moved away from the wreckage, towards a structure of some kind surrounded by fences and towers, hopefully a base of some kind. As this happened, the vertibird corrupted into a pillar of flames, sound, and light, creating a massive boom as Eddie inched his way to the compound. A few minutes later, two armed men approached Eddie.
"Hey, stand down sir, what the hell happened?" One of them, a man in a black vest and tan fatigues asked.
"I-I don't know." Eddie answered. "I woke up in a flaming wreckage not knowing anything." The other soldier looked at Eddie's torn outfit, mild suspicion in his face.
"Look at what he's wearing." He stated. "You think that's, you know?"
"I doubt it, plenty of black clothes out there, could have been a car crash or something." the first responded. "Some of the brahmin barrons got some fine wheels, could be a bodyguard for one."
"Let's take him to base, get him checked out, see if we can't help him remember anything." the second stated. "I doubt it was a car, remember that falling object?"
"Yeah, let's." the first stated. "Come with us sir, we need to check you out."
Eddie was not merely checked out. While the medic at the base treated Eddie, which turned out to be a prison, the soldiers began interrogating Eddie. They asked him about the markings on the destroyed vertibird, how he had it, the energy weapons on board, how he got to the Mojave, none of it making any sense to the amnesiac. All he could gather was that he was some kind of fighter caught in a crash, and that wasn't the answer that the soldiers wanted. Ultimately, they gave him a verdict: five months hard labor for failing to cooperate with the authorities of something called the New California Republic. Honestly, it didn't seem too bad. Anything would beat death in his eyes. It wasn't terrible, just maintaining and repairing roads for this military force Eddie had never heard of. Doing his work, Eddie began to learn much about his new life. The NCR was some kind of republic in what remained of California, trying to reestablish a republic in the United States. At the moment, the NCR was in the process of occupying the Mojave Desert, facing stiff resistance from another group, The Legion. The Legion was a warmongering unity of tribes assimilated into a single Rome inspired culture. It was led by a man called Caesar, who was intent on controlling the source of the most power in the region, Hoover Dam. Currently, the NCR had the dam and was running it at a pitiful efficiency, clutching the power plant as a source of control in the region. The most notable part of the region, however, was not the dam, but a city. New Vegas, a beacon of hope, and hive of vice. Controlling the strip was three families running their own casinos, answering to the enigmatic Mr. House. House was supposedly the master of The Vegas Strip, using his robot army to keep the peace and his business genius to keep the city flourishing. At the end of the day, none of it really mattered to Eddie, he had no stake in the conflict, he was just a passive observer who only arrived by what he considered chance. His first four months were brutal, lots of labor and brutality at the hands of the guards, and general ignorance at the hands of his fellow inmates, who had no opinion of him due to his status. It was in the last month that he was a bit better off. Eddie found himself able to volunteer with the med bay, a valuable position. Behind the backs of the guards and staff, Eddie began providing chems to inmates with addiction to help them ease off. He was able to kick the habits they had, but it was something else entirely that gave him boundless respect. On his last day, he treated a single prisoner for their injuries that they got operating machinery as his last act as a medic before taking his leave. The next week, as he settled into life as a doctor's assistant in a nearby town, Eddie found out that the prisoner he helped had led a rebellion. This gave him some clout with the prisoners, who called themselves Powder Gangers due to their obsessive use of explosives. Through his presence, he was able to provide the town of Goodsprings some protection from the bandits. However, his luck ultimately ran out when a group of traders fought back against the Powder Gangers, the sole survivor of said group holding in Goodsprings, angering a Powder Ganger. The bandits sent for protection ultimately pulled out, allowing the leader of the group that ambushed the trader, a man named Joe Cobb, began harassing the town, trying to force them to hand over the trader, a man named Ringo. This stalemate continued for weeks, until someone came in and helped, a woman who had been shot in the head.
Clara Shepherd woke up with a killer migraine, maybe she went too hard on the booze last night. No, she suddenly recalled what happened, she was shot in the head. Clara figured she was either in the grave or hell, probably the latter since she was in a doctors office.
"Doc, she's up." A man in a green jacket washing a set of tools stated. A man in a pair of tan slacks, suspenders, and a dark blue shirt approached Clara as she sat up.
"Woah woah, easy there, easy." the doctor stated. "You've been out cold a couple of days, why don't you take it easy, get your bearings together. I'm Doc Mitchell, that's my assistant, Eddie Morris, welcome to Goodsprings."
"You got shot in the head a few days ago, that robot, Victor, took you here and the good Doctor and I fixed you up." Eddie explained, walking over with a handheld mirror. "Doc and I did our best to make you look presentable, Doc takes pride in his needle work. But we want to make sure you're fine with everything, pulling the slugs out of your head wasn't easy." Clara took a look at herself. Her olive tanned skin stared back at her, coarse from years wandering as a courier. Her dirty blonde hair sat in it's usual short pixie cut, a style she chose for practicality in combat. The only major change was that there was now a scar sitting on her forehead, faded, but obviously from a gunshot wound.
"You did good." Clara said with a smile. Eddie nodded.
"Told you that healing salve would work, it's not pseudo science." Eddie chuckled.
"Well, we got it right, best getcha up on your feet." Doc Mitchell responded, helping heft Clara up to her feet. "Just take it easy and walk up to the vigor tester over there, it ain't a race." Clara walked over to the vigor tester, a device used to evaluate a person's qualities and vitals, like a romance tester but based on science, not grip. Clara worked it out, her statistics fairly average, excluding her exceedingly above average luck.
"With that luck I'm surprised the bullets didn't just turn around and crawl back into the gun." Doc Mitchell laughed.
"I could use that luck, lost at Caravan too many times." Eddie laughed. Doc Mitchell gave Eddie a confused look, then laughed. Apparently, humor was not part of Eddie's usual vocabulary.
"Well, we know your vitals are good, but that don't mean them bullets didn't leave you nuttier than Bighorner leavings." Doc Mitchell stated. "I got some old psych tests I'd like to run."
"I'll go get her stuff ready while you give her the tests." Eddie stated. The tests were simple, they were just free association, agreement statements, and a few inkblots, one of which was clearly two bears high fiving. It was at the end of the visit that Clara got her equipment back, a Browning Hi-Power, combat knife, a pair of binoculars, and her trusty over under. Oh, and her jeans, button up, wide brim hat, and duster were still in the pile, how could she forget?
"None of your gear was in the best of shape, took a moment to clean them while you were still under. If you don't mind me asking, how'd you get that Hi-Power? It's not a pre-war model, and it has NCR markings on it." Eddie stated with an added question.
"I don't remember." Clara admitted. "I don't remember much of my background."
"Looks like we're in the same boat." Eddie stated.
"Listen, little lady, I'd love to send you out there, but considering the fact you got shot in the head, Eddie and I got an offer for ya." Doc Mitchell explained.
"Doc wants me to go with you and keep an eye on your recovery, plus to give you an extra pair of hands to make sure you don't get ambushed and shot again." Eddie explained. "Keep in mind, it's only if you're comfortable with it, no one's forcing you." Clara thought for a moment, these two already did so much for her, it wouldn't be fair for her to take Eddie from this sweet gentleman. But at the same time, she was ambushed and shot in the head, she clearly needed a hand.
"I could do with a drinking buddy." Clara chuckled. Eddie frowned.
"Glad to head out with you, but no alcohol for twenty four hours, it's contradictory to the anesthetics we used." Eddie stated. Clara almost immediately regretted accepting the offer.
"Well, let me pack you up some lunch, Eddie, don't want you going out empty handed." Doc Mitchell stated. Eddie nodded and took a moment to gather his equipment, signaling Clara to wait. Eddie stepped out of a guest room a moment later wearing a green jacket, jeans, and a button up shirt with a tan hiking bag slung over his shoulder, a bolt action rifle clinging to the bag.
"Ready to go." Eddie stated. "Before we do anything, I want to make sure you can hold up in a fight. Nothing crazy, just want to see you handle a-" gunshots rang out. "Guess we're having a real battle…" Eddie rushed out, Clara following the man into the town. A group of men in blue uniforms were trading shots with the townsfolk, stopping when Eddie entered the line of fire.
"Cease fire, cease fire." Eddie ordered, his hands raised and empty. "Joe, man, I told you not to let Goodsprings get caught up in your BS."
"Shut it Ed, you knew what would happen if you left." Joe, the leader of these men, spat at Eddie. "Didn't even bother joining, just kept hanging out here, fucking traitor."
"Don't let Eddie back at the prison find out you said that, he'd hang you by your own windpipe." Eddie stated.
"Fucker isn't the boss of me, I got my own crew." Joe spat.
"Joe, would you want Eddie, the one back at NCRCF, to hear that?" Eddie sighed. "Heard on my last supply run for medical chems for the office that you've been failing to pay your tribute, thinking about joining Chavez, Joe?"
"Fuck off, you don't get a say, you aint one of us." Joe spat. "I don't care if you fixed up Eddie's leg, you don't get to boss us around!" Things were about to get bad, and Eddie would probably die if a fight ensued again, and Clara didn't want that. Sneaking around the bandits, Clara found exactly what she hoped for: an exposed stick of dynamite's fuse. Flicking open her lighter, Clara set the fuse alight, then rushed to a position to fire on the survivors from behind. An explosion rang out, Clara ripped her shotgun out from her duster and fired two shots at the two bandits in a state of confusion from the blast. Reloading, Clara noticed Eddie spring into action, drawing his own 9mm, though it was oldy enough made of plastic, to fire on two bandits to his side, then shifting to Joe. Attacking Joe, Eddie rammed a knife into his side, kneed his face in, then pulled out the knife and slit his throat. The fight was over, thank goodness. The town erupted into cheering as Eddie slid his handgun into his jacket.
"Glad that's over with." Eddie sighed. "Why don't you head down to Primm, I gotta go to the prison and clear some stuff up with the boss man there."
"Alright, I'll see you at Primm, Ed." Clara stated, teasing by calling him the name Joe did. Eddie sighed.
"At least you aren't calling me Mr. Amnesia…"
A/N: Welcome, dear reader, to Fallout New Vegas: Double Jokers! You may recognize my username from an old fic with the same characters, and I'll address that now actually. Originally, I wrote a fic with these characters, and I wasn't satisfied with how it turned out. So, I deleted it and decided to rewrite it. I went through a bunch of different versions, finally choosing what I have now. Without going into spoilers, here's a few things to expect:
1. expect weapons not present in New Vegas. I want to include some more weapons than what show up, so expect AKs, M14s, and other cold war era weapons to show up (also yes, Eddie has a Glock).
2. expect Legion and NCR stuff, nuff said.
3. Only 2 DLC will be covered: Honest Hearts and Lonesome Road
4. Expect cannon divergence. You'll understand later
5. And most importantly, ship. Expect Eddie and Clara to get together at some point.
Thank you so much for reading, hope you enjoy, and have a great day!