A/N: As much as I hate putting these notes at the top of chapters, I feel it necessary to mention this. I don't care what the wiki or the devs say about Cass' age, I refuse to believe that she looks like that while being a severe alcoholic. Unless Cass' great great ancestors were Greek Gods incarnate, I don't believe for a second she is 37. I'm lowering it down to 25, at the start of New Vegas, making her age 29 at the start of the story, an extra year for roughly the reasonable amount of time I think my Courier would've taken to get across the wastes to finish the war, while also doing all the DLC and any side quests he finds. This probably fucks with some part of the continuity, so don't all come swinging at me at once please.

Oh, and while I have you all, the Courier, at least in this, was 23 at the start of New Vegas, making him 27 now. And because I couldn't naturally put it in, he is wearing Benny's suit throughout the entire time he is inside of the Lucky 38.

In the wastes, it didn't matter who you were. You could be a squatter, living in the ruins of an Old World building, or the leader of a vast army, preparing for a territory expansion. At any point the Mojave could just swallow you whole, you and any mention of you. Robert Edwin House, CEO of RobCo, and father of the New Vegas Strip, was a perfect example of this idea. His head was so far above the clouds that he didn't even realize he had let his own killer into his flock, and he paid dearly for that.

But despite how often people disappear from the wastes, every so often someone gets spit back up. Joshua Graham, once the legendary Legate of the Caesar's legion, was swallowed whole by the wasteland, only to be returned to it as the Burned Man, a specter of vengeance, a shadow of who he once was, but even still, a better man than he once was.

The Legendary Courier Six, was also another man 'lucky' enough to be spared by the Mojave. Only in return, he lost everything that was originally Courier Six. His profession, his memories, his name, even his own face were ripped cruelly from his own two hands. Only through the anger and vengeance in his heart did he crawl from the precipice of death, and return, for the first time, truly, as Courier Six.

But that chapter of history had long passed, back when the Mojave was the battleground for two different armies, two different nations, two different ideologies. Since then the blood had long soaked and dried into the sands of the Mojave Wasteland, and the first king of New Vegas, Courier Six, had taken his throne.

"Now I'm tellin' you…" began a deep voice, a southern drawl obvious in his intonation. "While I don't got no hate for the NCR, ya'll still gotta abide by our laws when you pass through the Mojave. I get that you and the Khans don't like one another, and trust me, I understand why they feel like that," Ambassador Dennis Crocker flinched at that insinuation. Even he felt guilty for the slaughter committed at Bittersprings, and he wasn't even New Vegas' ambassador at the time. "But it was your soldiers who started shit this time around. Thankfully, no one was killed, 'cause this would've been a helluva different conversation if someone did, but I like to think one close call is one. Too. Many. I like ya Crocker, I really do, but the Khans are an ally to New Vegas, therefore, an ally of me. This happens again and next time we will have problems."

"I thank you for your leniency on this matter Mr. Courier" Crocker quickly said as the Courier finished, quickly swallowing the lump on his throat. "The soldiers in question have been reprimanded severely for this situation, I will make sure we won't be having this conversation a second time." Crocker explained, his tone equal parts sincere and frightened.

The Courier gave Crocker a small smile, leaning back in his velvet office chair (courtesy of a certain Mr. House). "Great! I trust this won't affect our NCR trade contracts, right? While we might be mostly self sufficient 'round here, the food and raw materials that come through are still very much appreciated."

Crocker let out a small laugh, feeling the tension in the room fade. "Of course Mr. Courier, I'll even push for a small discount, as a small token of my gratitude for your compassion."

With a hearty laugh, Six stood up from his chair and held out of his hand. "Well thank ya kindly, Crocker. Some time when you ain't too busy I'm taking you out for some drinks, ya hear? The Gomorrah is a mighty fine place after I changed out the management."

"I'll let you know when the Republic finally stops needing my help." Crocker joked lightly, rising from his chair and shaking the Courier's hand. "I pray that the next time we meet it will be under better circumstances." He mentioned idly before making his way out of the Courier's office in the Presidential Suite. Finally alone, Six sat back in his chair with a long, tired sigh, pulling a Sunset Sarsaparilla from his fridge and uncapping it on the battered edge of his desk.

With the sharp hiss of Old World carbon being released into the room, he took a long sip of the drink, letting out another sigh, this time, one that was just as satisfied as it was fatigued. "Really wish Yes Man told me this shit was this tiring before I hauled ass to kill House. That fucker could probably do half this shit in his sleep, bless his damned soul." The Courier complained to no one in particular, almost completely deflated in his chair. "'Least the Khans won't be sending messengers to yell at me anymore. Well, if Crocker knows what's good for him that is."

While The Battle at Hoover Dam ended well over three years ago, the Courier's war never ended, it just turned to a political one rather than the bloodshed he was normally used to. Didn't mean he didn't set off into the wastes to take care of business personally with his trusty Hunting Shotgun or Anti-Materiel Rifle, it just meant a LOT more sitting on his ass talking to politicians that mostly didn't care about New Vegas. He was glad Crocker was an exception for the most part.

If he didn't have Yes Man to handle overall security and business management in the Strip and recently gentrified Freeside, he probably would've given up and wiped out the Mojave-based NCR out of frustration. Well, him and his many trusted companions and friends he had made throughout his time traveling in the Mojave.

"Hey Six, still around? I'm back from my trip!" A voice called out from the elevator. Speaking of the Devil, the Courier internally mused. Rather than wait for a response, the culprit showed her face through his doorway, smiling as she saw his face.

Six stood up from his chair with a bright grin on his face, quickly closing the gap between them. "Welcome back to the thirty eight, Cass. If I'd known you were coming I'dve cracked out the whiskey!" He exclaimed happily, hugging her tightly.

As the two broke apart, he pulled out a Sasparilla for her, placing it in front of the seat by his desk. "Have somethin' cold to drink, it must've been scorching out there." Cass graciously opened the soda and chugged it down as fast as possible, silently agreeing with the Courier's statement with a satisfied hum. "So tell me how your little 'outing' with Boone went." His warm grin quickly turned mischievous as she got comfortable.

Just as the Courier didn't stay idle during the years that followed the Battle for Hoover Dam, neither did his companions.

Arcade, joined with his family of the Enclave remnants, worked tirelessly in a reclaimed facility of the Big Empty, courtesy of Courier Six himself. Arcade spent his days studying, researching, and testing both old and new technologies for the betterment of humanity. While he did visit when he had the chance, for the most part all of his time was spent in the Big Empty, dealing with the stupid whims of the Think Tank every so often.

Veronica, with her knowledge of Elijah's fate, traveled back to the Sierra Madre to find her long lost love, Christine. While the Courier didn't like the idea of Veronica being in the gas filled hellhole of the Sierra Madre, he wholeheartedly supported her quest in finding Christine, going so far as to provide her one of his personal suits of T-51b power armor in her journey. That was several years ago now. Last Six heard of her, she and Christine had met up with another sect of the Brotherhood of Steel. At least, that was what Elder Hardin told him. Though, deep down, he just knew she was fine and happy, wherever she was, and that was enough for him not to worry.

Lily, after the Courier regrettably convinced her to take her medication in full doses, started her own Bighorner and Brahmin ranch in the area surrounding Freeside. With the Courier's help, she managed to cultivate a successful business. And while she forgot every remnant of her past, she began to regard the Courier as her grandson instead, accidentally tricking herself into believing he was her own blood all along. The Courier didn't mind having family, especially seeing as he could no longer remember his original one, and was frankly glad to have her stop calling him Jimmy. That, and she made some amazing Brahmin milk cookies.

Raul, after finally coming to terms with the loss of his sister, ventured his way into the wastes, spreading the legend of the last Vaquero throughout the wastes. The Courier honestly missed the ghoul, he was a dear friend of his and his dry humor was something that he felt was missing. While Raul did visit to go fiend or raider hunting, it was only a few times in the year.

Cass and Boone were the only ones of his companions left that actually lived out of the Lucky 38, other than ED-E of course, and Rex who would wander in every few days after hanging around the King. And even then, due to his influence, they were more than likely about to move out and get a love nest of their own.

You see, time heals all wounds, the Courier knew that lesson most of all. His own hate and bitterness in forgetting everything that he once was after Benny shot him burned away and simmered until he couldn't even insult Benny in passing anymore, despite the fact he was the one who killed him.

The fate of Carla Boone was a tragedy, a common one in the wastes, but a tragedy nonetheless. Boone spent years dealing with her passing, and dealing with his guilt in both that and his actions in Bittersprings. Both of those combined made him a cold, almost cruel man. But the Courier was a force of good just as much as he was a force of death and change. Through the Courier he found peace in his heart, making amends with the Khans for his crimes, and finally having a funeral for the woman he loved above all else, and the child of his that was never to be, even if there were no bodies to bury.

He was still a cold person, and he was still very much an ass at times, but he was calmer now, more expressive, happier. Cass fell in love with both sides of him, and the Courier was happy to pull strings together and get them alone time often. With time Boone moved passed his wife, and with the encouragement of the Courier he fell in love once more. The two of them only got closer by the day, and the Courier was happy to have some of his dear friends face and defeat their demons.

And all it cost him was months of heartbreak, a few fits of alcoholism, and the acceptance that he would never find love in the Mojave. It wasn't too high of a cost in the end.

A light blush appeared on Cass' face at his comment, causing her to hide the top part of her face behind the brim of her hat. "Well, Craig got a funny little idea to travel through the Northern Passage to get over to the Zion, wonder where he thought of that?" She began, giving a mock glare to the Courier, who could only respond with a look that screamed 'guilty as charged'. "Busted my ass probably a thousand fuckin' times getting down those slopes but we made it eventually." There was a twinkle in her eyes as she recalled the sights. "And Christ was it worth it… all of those twinkle stars in the sky, and the breeze was nothing like the fuckin' wind in the Mojave."

The Courier let out a small laugh, "Yeah, first time I was 'round the Zion was during that caravan job. Pay was beyond shit, and even got jumped by a pack of raiders. But that night sky made all of that pain worth it." He mused wistfully, fondly thinking back

"Me and Boone camped out there, just the two of us. God, I was never one for all that romantic bullshit but just being there with him felt…" she went silent for a bit, trying to find the words. "...magical"

The Courier felt satisfaction well up in his heart, happy the plan he pitched to Boone worked out so well. He was happy to help his friends, it was all he wanted to do, help. That warm happiness made it easier to stop out that cold pit that opened up in his stomach. "Glad to hear it, I'm happy none of them White Legs were still about, made sure of that." He explained vaguely. Cass knew better to ask the Courier about what happened in the Zion, as much as he pretended otherwise, she wasn't blind enough to not see how he regretted how things ended. Not to say they didn't deserve what happened to them, but that was something she would never know. "Y'all finally settle on a plot of land ya wanna purchase? While I love having you two around, I can't very well sleep well if you two do the deed, can I?"

She playfully punched him in the arm at his comment. "Jackass… and yeah, we finally bought a place to live. Craig's just off fixin' how we want the house built and how much it's gonna cost. He really wanted to see you, but that land brokers a fucking asshole to deal with."

"Think I know who you're talking 'bout, that Roger feller right?" Cass nodded at his question, a look of agitation in her demeanor. "Cutthroat businessman that one is, rumor is he might actually cut throats too. I'll deal with his ass, don't you two worry."

Cass gave him a bright smile that made his heart flutter painfully. "Thanks Six, for everything you've done for us. I know we might not be the easiest people to hang around, but we care about you a lot, and I can't say how much we are grateful for you enough." She sincerely said. Six looked away for a moment, feigning a cough while he blinked away tears in his eyes. Helping people was all he was, even so, hearing someone, especially one of his dear friends, say something so touching made him feel like all the shit that the wastes through at him was worth it. "But now that we're leaving the 38, we gotta get you a gal to love!" She exclaimed, moving away from her serious, heartfelt tone to a more upbeat and playful one. "While I respect your decisions, I'm not gonna just sideline myself 'till you get lonely enough to make Yes Man your Fisto."

The Courier laughed at her comment on his love life. "Please Cass, I got a face only a mother could love, and even then that's stressin' it. Love just ain't for me, I'm fine with living out my days managing' the strip on my lonesome." He quickly moved on in a hurried, almost chipped tone. "And I will NOT turn Yes Man into a Fisto unit! I've seen what that thing can do and I don't want to be not able to sit down for the rest of my life."

She laughed heartily at his response, even though it saddened her considerably. The Courier was an average looking guy. He was about average height for people around the wastes, his skin a light golden complexion, common for those who descended from people from the Eastern countries of the old world. His hair was a short undercut, swept back and combed neatly so it wouldn't get in his face when he'd get sweaty after a long hike through the Mojave sands.

The Courier was an average looking guy, the face that was left after Benny was anything but attractive. The first shot tore through the right hemisphere of his brain from the forehead, the entry wound was a gouged circular mark on his head, and its exit left mangled scar tissue cascading from the top of his right parietal bone all the way to the bottom of his left occipital bone.

The second bullet hit him when he was falling to dirt, his consciousness having already been splattered across the San. It tore through the left side of his jaw, shredding the skin like it was paper, and shattered the maxilla, vomer, and zygomatic bones like they were glass. While Doc Mitchell was able to piece his face and head back together so he could open his mouth to speak without an impediment, the scar tissue left his face disfigured and mangled. It was common before he was well known as a legend, and before he could cover his face comfortably, for people to compare him to, and treat him like, ghoul.

That was why he always wore his Elite Riot Gear whenever he left the Lucky 38, and why the only people he would meet in the Lucky 38 without his mask were people he knew and trusted or politicians who were too scared of him to even look him in the eyes let alone the rest of his face. Now that he was feared and respected, the only people who would insult him over his face were people he had no problems with leaving as a dismembered corpse pinned to a wall.

Cass flinched when she remembered drunkenly teasing him over his face when they were drinking together with Raul and Boone. It was nothing serious, and even Raul, who was almost unconscious from the amount of Tequila he drank, could tell she was just joking around. Even so, Six began to cry, babbling on about how much he hated looking like how he did, and how his face ruined everything he ever wanted in life. It was the only time she ever saw him cry. She always saw the Courier as invincible (though she knew better than to inflate his ego any further). He was always a shield for them, never flinching, never faltering. Even when he accidentally ran through a minefield and shattered every limb he had, she didn't see him cry. Sure, he screamed and thrashed around while they dragged him to safety and patched him up, but not a single tear did he shed.

She regretted ever uttering those words even to that day, years later. And she would never tolerate anyone talking bad about him, even himself. "Enough of that shit Six, there's nothing wrong with your face and it isn't your fault you look like that!" She sternly said, "You're an amazing person, there's no way in hell a lady's not gonna fall in love with you, even if you are insufferable to be around sometimes"

Six gave her a solemn smile as he met her eyes once more, shaking his head softly. She hadn't seen that look since Six shot Benny in Caesar's fort, and was honest to God bewildered why he would be making it now, "Look Cass… I'm happy where I am now. Long as I can help you guys and the people of New Vegas, hell, I'll even sleep in a ditch if I gots to. Love just ain't for me, I've come to peace with that."

He must've had his heartbroken a long time ago to look like that, Cass deduced. If she ever made the fucker that could make her best friend look like that she would skin her herself. 'How could anyone not love someone like Six' was something she thought genuinely. "...I'm not gonna give up on you Six… but I can tell this ain't something you're wanna talk about, so I'll respect your privacy." Cass finished the rest of her Sunset Sarsaparilla and pocketed the bottle, saving it later to put her homemade whiskey into. As she put away the bottle, she caught a glimpse of her watch. "Ah hell! I was supposed to meet Craig five minutes ago!" She quickly shot to her feet, grabbing her discarded bag. "Sorry Six, I gotta run. Craig's introducing me to his NCR buddies while they're on leave, we'll both come visit you tomorrow so wait up for us!" She called back as she ran into the hall, jumping into the elevator without waiting for a response.

The Courier only waved at her as she left, a small smile on his face, one that quickly faded as she disappeared from sight. With another sigh, the Courier rested his face on the cold mahogany of his desk, feeling the last of his energy burn away fully into embers. "...Only thing I need in life is a stable New Vegas and a third bullet to the head…" he idly said to no one in particular, closing his eyes for just a few moments too long, drifting off to a dreamless slumber.

A dusty old crow flew across lush forests quickly, in a vain attempt to make it to a village that was about to be raided by bandits. The forests were something that was impossible to find in the Mojave, not even Vault 22 and the Big Empty could ever hope of cultivating. In fact, they were something that was a distinct impossibility of existing in Earth to begin with, trees having long since been scorched beyond recognition, only their desiccated and burned husks being the reminder of what they once were.

In a faraway place, where nuclear bombs were something that have never even been thought of before, Remnant stood ignorant of life on other planets. The crow, aptly being named Qrow, was flying and weaving through trees, quickly approaching a village where he suspected the Branwen Tribe was going to raid, though he was still several hours away. He was on no orders to do so, and had so much alcohol in his system that he was almost unable to fly straight to begin with.

"Fucking Raven and her stupid fucking bandits, I'll show her this time!" He exclaimed through maddened slurs and growling, though, all that could be heard was his angry cawing. Yes, Qrow Branwen, once again, gave into his own recklessly alcohol addled decisions just to fuck over his sister.

Though, even he couldn't have known that this benign decision would intersect his own path of destiny directly into someone's who could only be described as 'a force of change'.

A series of beeps and whirs awoke Six from his sleep, slowly, but surely. He raised his head tiredly, looking to his right to see ED-E nudged him. "Somethin' wrong buddy?" He asked his robotic friend affectionately, petting the top of his casing like one would a dog.

ED-E whirred first a moment, before an audible click could be heard from his internals. "Hiya! Can you hear me Courier?" Came an upbeat, chipper voice.

"Yes Man? Yeah, hear you clearly, need me to come up?" The Courier replied easily, it wasn't the first time Yes Man was forced to send a message through ED-E, it was kind of hard to get Securitrons to fit through his door afterall.

"Great! Just wanted to let you know that the Brotherhood sent over scribes for the Securitron's weekly repairs. The thing you wanted me to look into about the Enclave came up negative too, if there's any left, there'd be in the East Coast." Oh yeah, the Courier forgot it was time for Yes Man's daily update, he was probably confused why he didn't show up in the Penthouse already. "Weekly taxes came in from the Four Families-" He was glad to hear the Garrets were adjusting nicely, "-and the Kings reported only two muggings in Freeside. Wow! That's lower than last week!" Yes Man exclaimed, though, due to how his voice was it sounded distinctly sarcastic, most likely unintentionally if the Courier had to guess. "Oh, and before I forget, the Think Tank sent a message." Yes Man said in a low, serious voice.

Now that was strange, typically if the Think Tank had to tell the Courier something they would send over a Robo-scorpion with a moustache hastily drawn on it and a fedora on its stinger ('incognito mode' he believed they called it). To contact Yes Man directly was something they've never done before. "Shit… must be serious then? Did someone attack the Big Empty?" He asked, feeling his heart twist at the thought of the Think Tank (as obnoxious and psychopathic they were) or Arcade and his family being injured.

"No, no, thankfully not! I don't think the Mojave would still be standing if that happened!" Yes Man said, placating Six immediately. "They sent a video message through a satellite they recently repaired. Apparently, that wasn't the only one."

"Well shit, ain't that something." The Courier's said, genuinely surprised. "They've been talking 'bout that shit for years, I'm surprised they finally got 'round to it. Bet Mobius finally remembered the equations long 'nough for them to cobble it together."

"Yes… but that's not all. With the satellites, they claimed to have the capability to finally upgrade the Transportalponder." His voice was low, and foreboding. The Courier didn't say a word, wanting to hear what was next. "They said they could use the satellites to bounce the signal of the Transportalponder to teleport long distance, effectively making a trip to the East Coast-"

"-Instantaneous." The Courier's finished, in complete awe. "This changes the game completely, if we can secure Trans-continental travel, we could make trade routes infinitely faster and safer." He felt a short buzz in his brain as the thoughts came to him at lightning speeds. "We could explore the world, make travel safer, obtain new tech to benefit the people! This is amazin'! Monumental!" His brain ground to a halt, making his pause completely. "What's the catch?"

"...I ran the estimates, if we did this it would cause a seven hundred percent increase in overall income for the Mojave, and a five thousand percent increase in overall quality of life for the people." The Courier's knew something was wrong if Yes Man was going over numbers first, and getting to the point later. "There's a 78% chance that this will cause a jumpstart in technological advancement, and a 92% chance that this will improve relations with the NCR."

"And..?" The Courier urged.

"...we need someone to test it first. Someone who can be trusted to not steal the Transportalponder themselves, someone competent enough to fix something if everything goes wrong, and someone sane enough to not destroy everything in sight." Yes Man continued.

"In other words, me." the Courier finished.

"We ran some estimations… you have a 33% chance of surviving the trip, a 42% chance if you bring a robotic entity with you to absorb some of the current" Yes Man finally ground out. Both knew how important this would be to both the Strip, and to Humanity as a whole. But Yes Man didn't want to send his only friend and leader to the gallows for this. But he couldn't say no to the Think Tank asking him to explain everything to Six, and he knew what would happen if Courier knew the chances of someone else dying.

"...well shit. I suppose in the event of my death, they'd be able to salvage enough information from the jump to make the next one less of a death trap?" Yes Man answered in the affirmative, making the Courier go silent. "...tell 'em I'll stop by tomorrow, I need to prepare."

"Of course! I'll get on it right away!" He sounded chipper like usual, but even Six could hear the uncertainty in his voice. Yes Man's voice disappeared from the room, quickly getting replaced by the worried beeps of ED-E.

"I'll be alright ED, don't worry your pretty little circuits 'bout this Courier." Six reassures gently, rubbing the top of ED-E's hull with his hand. ED-E let out a series of hurried whirs and beeps, pushing against the Courier's hand. "Aw shit, you wanna come with me bud? Well, hell yeah, let's get on our way, gotta make a visit up to the Divide." ED-E whirred excitedly and flew out of the room, intent on getting the Courier his armor. Meanwhile, Six looked back to his desk, a pen and paper having already been put out for other use. "...well, might as well write a will, just in case."

The Divide was a hellish place, filled to the brim with half-ghoulified soldiers and creatures that should never see the light of day. Even years after his final fight with Ulysses, he still comes often to purge the Tunneler numbers to prevent New Vegas from being overrun by the things. Thankfully, that wasn't his intention this time around, or he would've been stuck in the Divide for days, no, this time he was here for something more important.

"Ah, the mighty Courier Six, here to purge the Tunnelers once more? Or talk to an old enemy?" Ulysses announced, turning his head slightly to look back at the Courier's approach. Six was clad in power armor, his personal Remnants set, given to him after Cannibal Johnson fell during the Battle for the Hoover Dam. Arcade wanted him to have it, as both a memorial for the man Six barely knew, and as a gift for helping him finally find himself again. "Quite a lot of fire power for talking though… unless you'd like to continue where we left off"

"Just talkin' this time 'round," Six began, sitting down next to Ulysses, legs dangling off the edge of the cliff. "If I wanted to fight I'dve just pushed your ass off while I was walking up." The Courier's explained with a small laugh, earning a chuckle in return from Ulysses. "...though… I need to ask you a favor."

"Ask your old enemy for a favor? That's something only a fool would do… a fool, or someone like you, Courier. I could never understand how you find friends in your greatest enemies, especially with what you had done to the Caesar himself." Ulysses mused aloud, staring out into the Divide with an empty look. "But I'll humor you, you wouldn't ask for favors on a whim."

"...ya see, the Think Tank just thought up of somethin' that can improve life in the Mojave." Ulysses hummed in understanding, having long since heard the stories the Courier told him of the Think Tank's 'change of heart'. "...only thing is, I gotta test it out first. It's like a sorta teleporter, that can go 'cross continents. Actually, I think it is a teleporter, in every sense of the word." He saw Ulysses' eyebrows raise as high as possible, the most emotion you could get out of the man that was anger or vengeance. "...it ain't gonna be safe, in fact, I'm most likely not gonna make it through the trip. But all of the Mojave needs this, so if I gotta die I gotta die."

"And I assume you want me to watch over New Vegas in the event of your death." Ulysses finished for the Courier, understanding his train of thought.

"Close. You and I both know that despite how unlucky my stupid ass is, death don't come easy for men like me. Most likely I'm probably gonna end up trapped somewhere on the coast, so I need you to lead Vegas 'till I make my way back over." He grinned solemnly at Ulysses, though his mask obscured his face, it was still audible in his voice. "After all, New Vegas needs a Courier, not just Courier Six."

Ulysses was silent, contemplating his answer. They sat there for several minutes, doing nothing but stare into the distance, thinking about their next move. "...I accept. I still owe you a lot for delivering upon me my salvation in the Divide. I shall lead New Vegas in your name, but try not to die Courier Six. Afterall, what are we without our greatest foes?"

"Husks, a forgotten memory of a person long gone." The Courier answered without thinking, standing from his spot at the edge of the cliff. "Left a letter at the 38, make sure my buddies see it when they come 'round. Yes Man'll let you in."

"I shall be seeing you, Courier Six." Ulysses called out, not glancing in his direction as the Courier left the Divide once more, a victor once again.

As he shut the train doors behind him, he looked around for ED-E, intent on teleporting straight to the Think Tank as soon as possible. Though, he was confused when he couldn't find the little eyebot, "ED-E? Where'd you go bud?" He called out into the sands. After a few moments, he could hear a hurried whirring in the distance, ED-E, speeding across the sands back to his owner's side. "Now what'd I say 'bout going off by yourself. Fiends'll eat a little guy like you." Six chided gently. ED-E replied back with whirs in the form of an apology, though, he seemed to think what he did was important. Six didn't push the subject, being on a time constraint and all.

With a pull of a trigger, Courier Six and his trusty eyebot disappeared from their spot in the sands, a bright light being all that remained of them for a brief flash.

"FOR THE LAST TIME, HUMAN WE ARE NOT ALLOWED TO TEST ON, WE WILL ONLY ACCEPT YOUR DECISION IF THE COURIER HIMSELF DOES AS WELL!" Dr. Klein, leader of the Think Tank, explained to a certain irate Gannon, his tone just as exasperated as it was ear shatteringly loud.

"You and I both know what that idiot is going to decide when he hears his odds!" Arcade yelled back, his face flushed a bright shade of pink. "Just let me test it now! It doesn't matter if I die, but New Vegas needs the Courier!"

"New Vegas needs a courier, Arcade." A tinny voice called out to them, their heavy, metallic footsteps coming up the stairs. "That don't mean just me."

"Six!" Arcade exclaimed, spinning on his heel coming face to face with his closest friend. "Let me go instead Six! At least if I die New Vegas can still survive!"

The Courier waved him off. "No, and that's final. Besides, forty somethin' percent is high enough of a chance for me to make it."

"Just be honest Six! You'd rather die than let me get hurt. Let any of us get hurt!" Arcade bit back, frustration straining in his tone. "You're always the same! Sacrificing yourself for others, but not taking care of yourself when you need to! I saw what you did with Cass and Craig, how you felt about her! She may have not noticed it but I sure did! Just let me-"

"ENOUGH!" Everyone, including those of the Think Tank who weren't even a part of the conversation, went completely silent as the Courier's voice boomed across the room. His fists were clenched tightly at his sides, trembling wildly as he reeled in his anger quickly. "...thank you Arcade… for caring about me so much. But I wouldn't be able to live with myself if you died and I could've done somethin' 'bout it."

"But-" Arcade began, the anger leaving his body and quickly being replaced with a cold, empty pit that sat uncomfortably in his gut.

But he never got to finish as the Courier cut him off. "Momento Mori" Arcade looked at him strangely, understanding what he said, but confused at where he learned it. "Don't forget that you're dying…" He continued, placing a hand on Arcade's shoulder. "Look Arcade. I danced that tango with Lady Death when Benny shot me in the head all those years ago. I should be dead in the ground outside of Goodsprings, an unmarked grave above me, and no one to know I even died. I did what I needed to do already, my book is already signed and closed. But you? You still gotta lead the Mojave to the next age of tech. You still have your story to complete, your legend to write. You're more important to the world than I could ever be Arcade" The man in question could feel a lump in his throat form from the Courier's typical brand of blunt honesty. "Besides, I got Ulysses to replace me, New Vegas got its Courier."

Arcade grit his teeth, but did not say another word. There was no convincing him otherwise, it was in the Courier's nature to be a martyr. Despite that, there was no way he wouldn't be restless knowing that someone he saw as a brother was running head first into a suicidal plan. Even the Second Battle for Hoover Dam had better odds! "WELCOME BACK OUR ESTEEMED FORMER LOBOTOMITE!" Klein cut in, not caring about the conversation Arcade and Six just had. "AS I'M SURE YOU HAVE HEARD, WE HAVE FINALLY COMPLETED THE FINAL UPGRADE TO THE TRANSPORTALPONDER!"

"Yeah, yeah, I heard. Tell me how it works." The Courier said dismissively, a slight ringing in his ears from Klein yelling right in front of his face.

"Before Klein blows all of our eardrums out, I'll do the talking." Dr. O cut in quickly, Klein beginning to berate him before stopping abruptly. The Courier smiled at that, at least the man was learning. "While I'm not really an expert at the science of this, what Mobius left us was enough to get us to the final phase of testing. Basically what we set the Transportalponder to do is digitize your body and send it up to the satellite array we put in orbit. There, your data will bounce through each satellite, speeding you up fast enough where you can just shoot through the atmosphere without rematerializing into ash."

"Holy shit… so what ya telling me is, y'all created an honest to god long range teleporter Zero?" The Courier asked in disbelief.

"Hehe… I love it when he calls me that…" O mumbled, not answering the Courier's question.

"...not exactly my little Teddy Bear." Dala finished for O, seeing as he wasn't going to do it himself any time soon. "You see, each time you bounce between a teleporter, the speed you're going at isn't exactly physical… we're technically speeding you through time."

The Courier stared at her blankly. "...ya gonna have to explain that, I'm smart, but my brain ain't big enough to understand that."

"While your fleshy data is bounced between the Big Mountain's mighty satellites in the sky, the time you travel through is sped up! To the point where it is no longer there!" Borous exclaimed dramatically.

"So instead of teleporting me, you're basically deleting the time it takes me to get to the other coast?" The Courier asked incredulously, getting a response in the affirmative. "How in the hell did you manage time travel, but not teleportation? And wouldn't this cause other time related bullshit?"

"Well…. we're not exactly sure how Mobius did it, and we would ask him, but he's still in that rehabilitation program you set up." O explained. "And we ran the calculations, there's only about a twelve percent chance of time related fluctuations."

"Twelve percent? Not bad, not bad at all." The Courier commented idly, liking his chances. Much lower chance of failure compared to the typical experiments of the Think Thank. But then again, this was Mobius' brain child, not really theirs. "But why does havin' ED with me 'crease my chances of not croaking?"

"THE ELECTRICAL CURRENTS OF EACH PASS WILL PUT YOUR FLESHY BODY THROUGH A TREMENDOUS AMOUNT OF STRESS IN ORDER TO SPEED YOU TO THE NEXT SATELLITE!" Klein explained loudly, eliciting a pained sigh from the Courier and Arcade. "HAVING YOUR ROBOTIC COMPANION WILL ALLOW A LESS… DEADLY DOSE OF ELECTRICAL CURRENT TO GO THROUGH YOU. AND BECAUSE I KNOW YOU HAVE EMPATHY FOR YOUR LITTLE ROBO-PET, FOR WHATEVER REASON, IT WILL NOT KILL IT!"

"That's a real relief… now how do we go 'bout-" the Courier began to ask, before he was suddenly harassed by Doctor 8.

"EIGHT! INSTALL THE PROGRAM! FOR THE GOOD OF ALL THAT IS SCIENCE!" Klein yelled at the top of his lungs. Doctor 8 let out a series of static as he shocked and prodded at the Courier, having gone directly into his bag, tearing out the Transportalponder, and immediately going to wire the object directly into his Power Armor. It was so sudden, and so bewildering, the chance of fighting back disappeared in an instant. He felt his entire suit of Power Armor lock up as his body began to go numb from the electricity dancing across his skin. A message appeared on the hud of his helmet, downloading thousands of files into it before he could even do anything.

Arcade moved to do something, thinking the worse as he pulled out his Plasma Defender. But by the time he was ready, the Courier was already back on his feet, panting and heaving. "We apologize for the sudden attack my little Teddy Bear, but we believed it would be best if we surprised you so you didn't accidentally attack Eight." Dala explained as Six got his bearings.

"'Least knock me out or somethin', that shit hurt." he complained lightly, not exactly sounding angry, as he understood their reasoning. Arcade looked like he was about to explode, but he held his tongue.

Quickly, they ushered the Courier into the chair they set up in the middle of the room, connecting him and ED-E through a series of wires as the ceiling opened up above them. "Now we've updated your power suit so it has the software to actually sync with the Transportalponder, but sit tight while we add the hardware." The Courier merely nodded, completely relaxing his body into the metal seat while the Think Tank removed and put back each and every plate on his suit, adding several circuit boards and wires each round. Dala took her time attaching ED-E's main power unit to the back of the Courier's helmet.

"Before these idiots forget, don't bring too heavy of a pack with you. The less chance of something exploding while you travel the better." Arcade explained as the Courier moved around again, more sluggish from the sudden change of weight throughout his armor.

"Keep an eye on 'em will ya? Don't really want none of these ending up as a new toy for the Tank." he joked lightly, taking only the pieces to his heavily modified Hunting Shotgun, Anti-Material Rifle, Joshua's signature pistol, and Annabelle as his weapons. Throwing them in his bag, he brought along all his stims, bitter drinks, Doctor bags, anti venom, and ammo, just so he couldn't be caught unprepared. For good luck, he put Love and Hate over both of his fists, clenching them tightly so they wouldn't fall off. "...hey Arcade." Six let out in a small voice, only the tiniest bit of fear in his tone as the Think Tank flew over to their personal monitors and began punching numbers.

"Yeah Six?" Arcade quickly replied, moving closer, but still staying quite aways as to not electrocute himself on what was now a walking transformer.

"...thanks, for everything you did for me. Without you, and without the others, I would've just been a dead man walking." He said solemnly, feeling electricity begin to crackle against his armor.

"Just don't die and we'll be even." Arcade replied, trying to push down the lump in his throat. "We'll be waiting here for you, so don't go and leave us behind Six."

"Yeah, without me ya'll just be a bunch of rowdy kids right?" Six answered with a shaky laugh. "And ED?" The little eyebot let out a low, unsure whir. "Don't worry bud, we'll be right as rain… trust me."

"BEGINNING THE ALIGNMENT PROCESS!" Klein yelled at the top of his lungs, his mechanical limbs dancing across his keyboard.

"Starting Courier data translation procedure!" O followed, the Courier, flinching as he felt a burning sensation flow through his veins.

"Initializing Teddy Bear safety program." Dala chimes in, finishing her side of things with a final press of the enter key, causing a glowing blue bubble to appear around the Courier and ED-E.

" [=$+_-*] ? [$((*#8#%] . [$((*&^#%] !" Doctor 8 ground out, the Courier's blood beginning to feel like acid eating away at his vascular tissue. ED-E let out a short shrill beep as he felt his electrical circuits crackle.

"Executing datalization operation! Finalizing the translation routine!" Borous boomed from his own computer, basically bashing his robotic appendages against the keys.

The Courier's body jerked up in his chair, his muscles beginning to tremble violently from the electrical current that was surging through his entire being. It was no longer a burning sensation that was surging through his body like a poison, it now felt like his entire being was being incinerated from the inside out. But despite his agony he could not even muster the energy to scream. ED-E fared no better, shutting himself off to save his internal memory banks from the sheer overload of electrical power, and collapsing into Six's lap.

"THE SATELLITE ARRAY HAS BEEN COMPLETELY ALIGNED! PROCEEDING WITH THE LAST TRANSFER!" Klein slammed his appendage into the enter key as hard as he could, the piece of metal denting from the force he put into it.

The Courier disappeared as a pillar of bright blue light punched a hole through the stratosphere, speeding through unrestricted air until it slammed into the first of many satellites that peppered Earth's cluttered orbit.

Arcade gave a salute to the skies above him, praying to whatever would listen to him that his friend could take his first step into the unknown alive. The Think Tank was of a similar vein of thought, merely staring up at the sky at their human colleague, hoping only for the best.

Cass and Boone stood in front of their new plot of land, the foundations of their new home having long been set by the previous owner. They were beyond happy, holding each other like newlyweds, excited to take their next step in life together for the first time.

They both looked towards the distance, seeing a pillar of blue light shoot into the sky. "Holy shit!" Cass exclaimed, taking a step back in wonder. "What the hell do you think that is?"

Boone took off his sunglasses to stare at the beacon, squinting his eyes. "I'll be honest… whatever it is, it probably has to do with Six."

Raul fell on his ass as the light appeared in the distance, a faint rumbling being felt by him due to his proximity to it. He knew exactly who could cause something so insane, and it almost pissed him off that he knew the man so well. "Hope you know what you're doing boss." Was all he could say as he picked up his hat, it once looking away from the light as he began to trudge through its source.

Lily lifted up her goggles as she stared at the blue pillar, putting down the book she was reading on the table next to her. "Oh dear… I hope that wasn't something too dangerous." She said idly, quickly brushing it off as something unimportant. As she relaxed back into her seat, ready to finish the book she was reading, her animals began to huff and stomp in a frightened manner, getting ready to stampede off. "Oh no you don't! I might be old, but I'm not letting you run away from granny!" She exclaimed, grabbing her sword that leaned against her house with practiced ease.

From the penthouse room of the Lucky 38, both Ulysses and Yes Man watched as the Courier disappeared into the skies above, the only two beings outside of Big Mountain to understand what was happening. Both were silent, the only sound in the room being the slight hum of the various pieces of machinery around. "And thus the Courier leaves the Mojave, I can only hope not for the last time." Ulysses said idly as he watched the light disappear little by little, until only the hole it made through the clouds could be seen.

The Courier felt weightless. He could see blue light all around him, yet, it felt like he was completely blind to everything. Or did it feel like he had his eyes closed? He wasn't sure, nor could he bring himself to care. ED-E still sat in his lap as the world moved around them (or perhaps, as they moved through the world) completely unmoving other than the occasional whir or short beep. Unlike the rocky send up process, he was at complete peace with everything freely moving through the atmosphere without a care in the world.

Completely at peace, until suddenly, he wasn't, and then all he could feel was fire.

Arcade dropped to his knees as a ball of fire burst in the distant sky, hundreds of miles away from them. He couldn't stop as tears began to pour out of his eyes, and he made no sound as he stared blankly in the distance. The Think Tank could make no reaction, as even they didn't know what to do in the event of the Courier failing. Even though it was, on paper, a possibility, the Courier's inability to die convinced them well enough that he could prevail through any odds.

The Big Empty became just a little more empty that day.

Yes Man couldn't stop the choke of horror from coming out of him as he spotted the fireball on the horizon, knowing only one thing could have happened. Ulysses sat down in a nearby chair, wordless watching as he pulled off his respirator. "And thus… the Courier's luck has finally run out." He said almost silently after watching silently for what felt like hours, the words coming out painfully from a mouth and throat that had long since gone dry.

He felt just a bit more lonesome, knowing that his greatest enemy, and closest friend, was gone from his life.

The Mojave eats everything that decides to let its guard down for even a moment. It was the cruel truth of the wastes, it didn't matter if you were a Freeside Thug or Mr. House himself. The inevitable end for any living being in the Mojave was to be buried in its radiated sands. Even those who got their second chance in life can just be swallowed up all over again by the same uncaring maw all over again.

But for the exceptionally lucky, and for those who just can't stay down, a third chance was not something completely out of reach

Courier Six Perks/Stats/S.P.E.C.I.A.L:

S.P.E.C.I.A.L

Strength- 9 (+)

Perception- 8 (+)

Endurance- 5

Charisma- 8

Intelligence- 8

Agility- 8 (+)

Luck- 3

STATS

Barter: 100

Energy Weapons: 25 (+)

Explosives: 75 (+)

Guns: 100 (+)

Lockpick: 100 (+)

Medicine: 100

Melee Weapons: 25 (+)

Repair: 100

Science: 100

Sneak: 100 (+)

Speech: 100 (+)

Survival: 55 (+)

Unarmed: 100

PERKS

Abominable (3)

Adamantium Skeleton

And Stay Back

Animal Control (3)

Beautiful Beatdown

Big Brained

Bug Stomper (2)

Camarader-E (5)

Camel of the Mojave

Cannibal

Cardiac Arrest

DNAgent

DNAvenger (2)

Educated

Enhanced Sensors

Ferocious Loyalty

Free Radical

Friend of the Night

Heavyweight

Here and Now

Implant C-13

Implant M-5

Implant Y-7

In Shining Armor

Intense Training (2)

Jury Rigging

Legion Assault

Lesson Learned

Living Anatomy

Lord Death (2)

Luck Implant

Machine head (2)

Monocyte Breeder

Paralyzing Pain

Perception Implant

Piercing Strike

Power Armor Training

Ranger Takedown

Rapid Reload

Reinforced Spine

Shotgun Surgeon

Silent Running

Strength Implant

Strong Back

Sub-Dermal Armor

Swift Lerner

Tag!

Trigger Discipline

Voracious Reader

Weapon Handling

A/N: Well, I've went through this chapter probably close to fifteen times, mostly because I'm a neurotic asshole, so this chapter should be more or less coherent. Even then, though, I'm not infallible, so let me know if I left open some glaring plot hole that I need to fix with a reupload of the chapter. *sigh* Wouldn't be the first time I had to do that.

Moving on from that, those of you who have read my works before might notice that, once again, I am moving on from my other stories and starting a completely new one. If this is the first story of mine you've read, feel free to ignore this. Anyway, I have decided, seeing as I haven't updated any of them in the last two years (at minimum), that the time has come that my other stories must be abandoned. Well, except for Fire and Steel: REDUX, I've been writing that for well over a year, and the first chapter has swelled from just being a thousand words like the original, to now well over 14,000 words, so that's still a work in progress. Again, I'm obsessive, so I have been editing and tweaking it until I am happy with it. The beginning of it still isn't to my liking yet, and I'm almost done with the entire chapter.

For the others, honestly, I'm not very proud of their quality. Some of them are filled with typos and grammatical errors, others have two-dimensional characters that have no depth to them, and some I can't help but cringe to whenever I think of their content. And don't get me started on the flminsiness of some of their plots, those that were competent were only because I was following the stories' original story line. Because of that, and because they are too far gone, or much too short, to warrant a competent re-write that would even begin to encapsulate the essence of the original piece like with Fire and Steel, I've decided to let them go. I apologize to any who have been waiting with bated breaths for their update (which, I am honestly surprised has been a number of poeple, thank you so much for the support), but I'm going to lay them to rest finally. With that in mind, if anyone wants to adopt those other stories, feel free to shoot me a PM or two. They're my babies, so I'd still have to poke at you to make sure you'll actually work with them, but I'd love to see what you guys do with 'em. Rewrite them from the ground up if you'd like, as long as they're put to use. Again, barring Fire and Steel.

Other than that, let's move back to this story, shall we? Most of you probably don't even know nor care about anything I just said above, anyway.

I've had this idea rattling around in my head for a number of months before even getting to writing it. I was mulling over whether or not to make a RWBY crossover with my D&D character, or to go fully committed with a Fallout one. Eventually, I relented, and decided to use the former on a different crossover (keep your eye out for that one when I finally finish proofreading the pilot) and use my Fallout character for this one.

I have a number of ideas of where I'm gonna go with this plot (for once) and have a rough story outline mapped out up to the end of Volume 3, so I should have a lot of material to work with until I need to hit my head against the storyboard again. Though, that doesn't mean I won't look at your guy's suggestions, what I have written down isn't set in stone, and I would be grateful for any help you guys can give.

One major example of that, is the pairing I'd like to use for this story, which is, something that straight up hasn't been decided. I was thinking of opening a poll with everyone I was thinking would mesh well with the Courier, and letting you guys decide for me. Right now, I was thinking for just a one on one pairing, unlike with what I have written in the past, but if you guys want to vote for the pairing, I'll leave open an option for two partners instead of one. Bottomline, however, the romance will not be the ultra-focus of the story.

Other than that, let me know how you liked this pilot. Did you find a certain part was your favorite? Did you hate how I portrayed a character, or how hated the way I expanded on the original epilogue of the game? Leave a review with any concerns or suggestions about it, I'd love to hear your guy's feedback on my work, any new perspective helps me know if I'm doing something right, or doing something wrong.

And one last thing, I've changed how I write stories now. Before this is even posted, I've written ahead several chapters with rough drafts, so more or less I have something ready at any given point to release, so I don't have to make you guys wait seven months for an update. Again, these are just rough drafts, so they still need to be trimmed and proofread fully before I release them, so don't expect an update every week.

-Till next time

Lord Crab