Courier Six vs Sam Porter Bridges
Storm clouds gathered over the gray sky as Sam trudged across the rocky terrain of the Western Region. He squinted his eyes behind his sunglasses as he looked up into the sky, the few drops of rain beginning to fall from the clouds.
Sam's hood flipped up to protect his head automatically as it sensed the timefall, protecting him from the deadly precipitation. Grass grew around his feet at the touch of the timefall, immediately decomposing once more into the cracks of the stone. Sam's attention snapped to the teardrop shaped pod on his chest as the opaque glass transitioned to transparent amber, revealing a small prenatal baby floating in liquid.
"How you holdin' up, Lou?" Sam grunted as the infant rolled in its chamber to point its large, green eyes up at its protector. Sam nodded at the pod, putting one finger to the glass which was reciprocated by the child's tiny hand pressed up against it from the other side. As he retracted his finger the glass grew opaque once more as the BB went into standby mode.
The porter looked up through the rain to see the towering skyscrapers of Edge Knot City on the hazy horizon. He tugged on the straps of his backpack, feeling the towering weight shift on his exoskeleton support and planted one foot in front of the other down the treacherous mountain toward the city.
]
Sam slammed his packages on the conveyor belt delivery system as the gears turned, taking his parcels deep into the Bridges facility and the unseen, welcoming hands of their intended recipients. A shimmering hologram sprang to life as the last of the packages disappeared through the endless conveyor belts.
"Sam!" exclaimed the hologram of Die-Hardman, the most current President of the United Cities of America and more importantly the Director of the Bridges company, as Sam shifted his now weightless backpack. The President's facial expression was difficult to make out from under his black, skeletal mask, but Sam could catch the slightest glint of a welcoming smile within the man's eyes.
"What is it now? I'm still on the job," Sam grumbled, turning to a nearby terminal to cycle through available packages that need delivering.
"That you are, I can see now why Bridget had such a high opinion of you," Die-Hardman nodded knowingly before tapping a few buttons on a palmed device.
"Best Porter that Bridges ever had the misfortune of losing. Her words, not mine." Die-Hardman said as a two-legged robot trudged its way from the depths of Sam's facility to meet the Porter. "Thank God you're with us again; there's been a development in Edge Knot that needs your immediate attention."
The robot, a platform sitting atop its two legs, had a single small black box upon it, one foot in length and width, with the flag of the old world's America engraved in silver on its top.
"Get on with it," Sam sounded disgusted, already impatiently queuing up the next set of packages to carry on the courier terminal.
"President Strand… Amelie… they believed in American reconstructionism. From their efforts and yours, we are closer than we have ever been to unity. To help push us over that edge, we need this package back here in Capital Knot as soon as possible."
"Chiral network it across," Sam scoffed, the packages he signed up for churning out through the conveyor belt as he stacked them into his backpack. "That's why we built the damn thing."
"This is different, Sam," Die-Hardman shook his head. "There's no easy way to say this. Scavengers found this box in an old military bunker, in the wrong hands it could trigger nation-wide void-outs, cities blipped out of existence with the push of a single button." He noticed Sam recoil a bit upon its mention.
"The box itself is harmless," Die-Hardman continued. "Inside contains the detonation codes for nuclear weapons that have been buried since long before the first Death Stranding. We have experts here in Capital Knot who are capable of neutralizing the broadcast signature of Project Ashton, you just have to get it here."
Sam cautiously extended his hands, grabbing the box from the transport robot and turned it over, examining it. It was heavier than expected, weighted funnily compared to what Sam had been used to carrying. Below the glinting silver flag, the word "ASHTON" was carved into its leaded covering, just over a pair of latches on the box's seam and a thin hole meant for the insertion of an electronic key.
"Bring it to Capital Knot without getting shot to hell? How difficult could that be?" Sam asked sarcastically, a slight hint of regret already in his voice. The robot took short steps to turn itself around and walk further into the facility restricted from the Porter.
"If it gets into the hands of any M.U.L.E. every effort we've taken to reconnect this country will be in vain," Die-Hardman said, getting very somber. "Not to mention any of the Homo Demens. They'd have an absolute field day with this."
Sam huffed a sigh before nodding in acceptance, bringing the black box up to attach to his shoulder package holder, snapping it into place.
Die-Hardman paused for a second, tapping at a computer just outside the hologram's reach.
"The typical route back is teeming with Homo Demens, I'm afraid," Die-Hardman sighed, bringing a map around to the hologram visual. "They must've gotten word of major shipments coming through that route. Gotten word of you, perhaps?"
Sam studied the map for a brief second, tracing his finger south of the highlighted route.
"What if I go here, through the Mojave Desert?" Sam asked. "We haven't sent any porters that way, but that should mean it should be safer than normal."
"It's risky, Sam," Die-Hardman said, simply. "That section of the continent has been avoided for one reason or another, but I'll leave it to you to make the final decision."
Sam grunted as he swung his leg over his reverse-trike motorcycle. He revved the engine and sped out of the depot, the pod on his chest pointed east.
]
The howling wind in the canyon below whistled through the shells of buildings, teeming with countless monsters and demons. The invisible fire scorched anything that came anywhere close to this desolate wasteland, but that did not mean the Divide was devoid of human watchers.
High above the canyon of the Divide sat a man in a sleeveless duster, stars emblazoned on its back, his braided hair falling lightly on the sides of a large ventilator mask. He knelt on a rock dangerously close to the edge of the canyon, his eyes piercing through the dust and smoke like an ever-vigilant owl terrifying the pests to stay in this inhospitable prison. Nothing dared approach the man's post lest they wanted a .50 caliber round through their skull.
The sharp "pssh" of a sealed bottle opening snapped the man's attention around as he snatched the submachine gun at his hip and aimed it at the origin of the sound.
"C'mon Ulysses," the voice filtered through the masked combat helmet rang out as a bottle of Sunset Sarsaparilla was extended to push the gun aside. "That any way to treat a comrade?"
Ulysses grunted, returning his gun to its holster and turned his attention back to the canyon of the Divide.
"You've been away a while, Courier Six," Ulysses directed to the person looking over his shoulder. Courier Six plopped down beside the ex-legionary, lifting their mask briefly to take a sip of their sarsaparilla bottle before drawing it back down. Their olive-green duster draped behind them, almost completely obscuring the military-grade riot armor beneath.
"I've been busy gearing up for the most important battle since the Great War, no big deal," Six said with a chuckle, extending the bottle of soda towards the ever-vigilant watchman. Ulysses shook his head at the prospect of the sarsaparilla, and continued to stare into the abyss below.
A beat passed between the two couriers, neither speaking, only taking in the environment and each other's company.
"Anything I missed in the Divide?" Courier Six asked, setting the now empty Sunset bottle on the edge of the rock to see it slowly tip to one side and tumble down into the crag.
"Watching the claw marks a while," Ulysses motioned to the Divide below, a profound sadness in his deep voice. "Scavengers, like bloatflies on rotting brahmin, always swarming the wreckage. Most don't make it out. One did."
"Wait, scavengers?" Six asked, surprised. The last they knew, the Divide below was teeming with deathclaws, tunnelers, and worse, a death sentence to anyone crawling through the irradiated wastes of Hopeville. If scavengers had made it through this hell, it could be an advanced scout of any of the various factions of the wasteland coming to reclaim the treasure trove within the ruins.
Ulysses nodded, pointing to the east.
"Mechanical, like none I've ever seen. Most torn apart, but one resurrected a package I had not wished to see again. A familiar package, you would recognize. A death sentence, the package YOU brought to this place, so long ago."
Courier Six's heart skipped a beat.
"You mean the package I brought here that destroyed Hopeville?" Six cautiously asked, the tone of their voice shifting dramatically. All those years ago, they had been contracted to bring an innocuous package into Hopeville. Whether by accident or design, that package reacted to the nuclear missiles under the military base of Ashton, forging the crater the two couriers now sat next to. Six was under the impression the package was lost to history, buried or incinerated, but now…
"Why didn't you stop them? What if that package awakens new nukes elsewhere?" Six asked aggressively.
"Not my place," Ulysses responded, calm as ever. "History must be allowed to play itself out, you taught me that. If you wish to see the cycle of violence end, it is you that must put an end to it, before the package speaks again. Maybe you can put an end to it, maybe you can't, but you must prove yourself capable of saving nations, rather than only destroying them. A test of your conviction."
Courier Six stood, lips pursed in anger, but they knew Ulysses was correct. They brought this package into this land, it was their responsibility. They gave out a sigh as they began counting the ammunition in their pack.
"Where did the scavver go?" Six asked. Ulysses wordlessly pointed east, stoic in his silence. Courier Six reached into their satchel and pulled out another Sunset Sarsaparilla and set it next to the watchman before vanishing as quickly as they appeared.
[A few days later]
Sam zoomed through the desert on his reverse trike, racing past cacti and ruined buildings on his way back east. The packages on the trail were scarce, whether signs of easy travel or heavily scavenged areas he didn't know, but Sam didn't want to stick around long enough to find out.
Just as Sam was beginning to contemplate the dangers of the area his reverse trike sputtered as he began to slow.
"No, no, no, goddamn it," Sam slammed his hand into his trike as it slowed, running out of electrical charge. The trike continued on momentum alone until it and Sam came to a stop in front of the rusted remnants small gas station, a large red rocket atop a spinning advertisement pole. Sam huffed as he stepped off the trike, looking at the ruined building.
He was surprised at how long it had stayed up, especially with the constant timefall along his normal routes, but then again he was slightly out of his comfort zone on this route back to Capital Knot. Perhaps timefall was less potent in the desert here, or nonexistent in the first place, but as his eyes drifted upwards he saw clouds gathering and he didn't want to risk it.
Sam readjusted the towering stack of packages on his back as he trudged his way into the derelict building preparing to hunker down for the gathering storm.
No sooner did Sam set his packages on the dirty tile floor did the first roll of thunder roll across the landscape, loud enough to rattle the shards of glass sitting around the base of the blown-out windows. The soft patter of rain drops was amplified tenfold as its impact with the metal roof above sounded like unending gunfire. Sam's foot brushed by a stack of cut wood, remnants of what clearly used to be a campfire, as he tried to take in his surroundings.
The pod on Sam's chest gurgled a fearful noise, causing Sam to look down at the now transparent pod to see the BB Lou staring back at him. He twisted the tube hooking the BB to his shoulder-mounted Odradek, unlinking the pair to be able to hold the pod up to his face, bouncing it slightly until the baby within gave a slight smile.
Sam smiled back before seeing a figure in the reflection of the pod, quickly spinning around with his cufflink separated to form his cord cutter-knife.
Just entering the gas station was a figure clad in an olive green duster, military police grade armor beneath, and a masked helmet covering their face. A large, intimidating rifle was slung across their back, but their hands were raised non-aggressively as they shook the rain from their coat.
"Who are you, what do you want?" Sam asked, slowly hooking Lou back to his chest with one hand, his cord cutter still outstretched. The figure lowered their hands, moving to a stack of boxes to sit upon near the burned-out campfire. They quickly started a fire on the wooden remnants, rubbing their hands together for warmth without speaking a word or acknowledging the man.
"I've been known by a lot of names," the figure finally said, their voice modulated through the masked helmet to give a slight robotic undertone. "But these days, most call me Courier Six, Six is fine though."
"And what you want?" Sam asked, still keeping a cautious distance. Six glanced to the tower of packages Sam had laid next to what used to be the gas station's checkout counter, quickly scanning them up and down before feeling a bit dejected. Their gaze then fell to the fellow human.
"I take it you're a courier, like me," Six said, barely looking up from the embers. Sam nodded. "Your name?"
"Sam." Sam said, shortly. "You take a lot of packages?"
"I used to," they said, stifling a small laugh. Sam shifted uneasily at the other's mysteriousness. "Looking for one in particular, however. Robot came out of the Divide carrying a small black box. Courier to courier, I notice that package on your shoulder has an uncanny resemblance to that box."
Sam hesitated, turning to put his body between the package and the sitting courier.
"What, are you some sort of M.U.L.E. coming for my package?" Sam asked, gripping his cufflink blade tighter. "You ain't walking out of here with it. It's more dangerous than you know."
Six shook their head as the rain finally began to let up outside. They stood with their hands raised once more, showing non-aggression.
"I know exactly how dangerous that package, is, trust me," Six explained. "And I can't trust anyone other than myself to deliver it. So here's the deal: six-hundred caps and I take it off your hands. That's got to be four times what Mojave Express has got to be paying you, or whatever third-rate caravan company you work for."
"Caps?" Sam asked.
"Or NCR dollars, if that's what you prefer," Six pivoted, walking slightly closer. "Or Legion denarii, if that's your preference. Money's money, after all."
Sam was confused, but kept his defenses up as he backed up slightly. He bumped against an old shelf, scorched books and empty cans falling to the floor at the impact.
"No deal," Sam grunted, pulling his anti-BT handgun from his cargo pack and pointing it directly at Six. Just as Sam hoped, Six stopped in their tracks, only a couple feet away from the Porter.
The two stood tensely staring at each other for what seemed like an hour, Six's eyes mysteriously hidden behind the glowing green eye holes in the mask.
Six finally took a step backwards and nodded, whether acknowledging that Sam had the drop on them or their intentions were misconstrued Sam did not know. Regardless, Sam was relieved his bluff worked, as he knew the anti-BT handgun would offer no protection against a living human. But with all the oddities of the other courier he felt secure in this bluff.
"Didn't mean to alarm you," Six said, kicking the sticks apart at the campfire to smother the embers before walking toward the door, looking outside to see the clouds dissipating. "Mind yourself, the wasteland's ruthless."
"That's that, then?" Sam asked, his handgun still pointed. "You're not as bloodthirsty as other M.U.L.E.s I've ran into."
"I suppose I've rested my feet long enough, and you look like you've got it covered," Six said, a small grin behind their mask. "And besides, what would this world be if courier killed courier?"
With that, the duster-clad courier walked out just the way they entered, beginning their trek across the desert once more. Sam kept his eyes glued to the courier for as long as he could until he passed over the horizon, his adrenaline pumping up until he couldn't see him anymore.
As soon as Six passed out of sight, Sam let loose a deep breath, looking down to Lou's pod as it became transparent again, allowing him to look at Lou again.
"Little close there," Sam muttered to Lou, giving the BB a smile as he reached up to the black box on his shoulder.
Sam's heart skipped a beat as his hand did not feel the package on his shoulder, however, as his eyes went wide. His head turned to realize the package was gone from its holster. He looked around in a panic, the floor scattered with junk and debris, but the package was nowhere to be found.
Sam pulled up his cufflink communicator, tapping away at its holographic interface to call up Die-Hardman.
"Sam! How's the journey?" Die-Hardman asked.
"No time," Sam said in a hurry, beginning to throw his packages onto his back. "I need you to find a place called the Divide."
"The Divide?" Die-Hardman tapped away at a computer just out of view of the hologram. "There are records of a place called the Divide on the Nevada California border. It's actually where the package from Project Hope was pulled out of. You didn't lose the package, did you Sam?"
Sam pressed a button on the cufflink to hang up on the CEO, strapping the last of his packages onto his back as he headed back west.
[A few days later]
Six turned the black box over in their hands as they approached the gateway to the Divide, slightly proud of the treasure they nicked from the man back in the gas station. A little closer than they would've liked to play it, but a single glance away as he bumped the shelves was the only opportunity the Courier's light fingers needed.
Just as Ulysses had foretold, however, there was something strangely familiar and heavy about the package. They could feel the history radiating from the black box, yet could hardly imagine the death and destruction that was brought on from such a small package.
Six checked the Pip-Boy on their arm, the quest he designated as "My Rifle, My Package, And Me" toggled to deliver the package back to Ulysses. It had taken the Courier a little longer to return to the Divide than they had intended, but being that far down the I-95 they couldn't help but explore a bit, coming back to New Vegas with enough junk to make half a dozen Crimson Caravan expeditions jealous.
With all that taken care of, however, Six stepped forth into the canyon wreckage, littered with scrap metal and old burnt out cars, to the Divide overlook.
"Ulysses?" Six called out as they reached the last car they needed to walk through, but received no response. Slightly concerning.
Six pulled out their trusty 9mm pistol as they squeezed past the last car to find themselves on the Divide overlook, the canyon stretching vast before them. But Ulysses was nowhere to be seen. Courier Six looked up and down the edge of the crag, the Sunset Sarsaparilla Six had set out the few days prior still sitting on the ledge, untouched.
Six's finger brushed the trigger, their senses on high alert as their head spun on a swivel.
A slight twitch of movement in a bush far from the cliff's edge caught the Courier's attention as they spun their pistol around. Six only saw the vague shape of Ulysses in the shrub, writhing and bound in wires.
"Behind… you…" Ulysses was able to choke out from behind his mask.
Six turned with pistol ready, but was slightly too late as the courier from before slammed into them in a tackle, a length of cord in their hand expertly wrapping around Six's military garb. Six's pistol clattered to the ground in the scuffle as their arms were sinched tightly to their body, but Six knew they couldn't let this be decided due to their failed perception.
Instinctively, Six threw their head into their attacker, slamming their helmet into Sam's face. Sam backed up at the impact, reaching his hand up to his nose to see a bit of blood trickling from it before grabbing a package from the tall stack on his back.
Six looked down to see themselves wrapped in the same wired cable that Ulysses was trapped in, but quickly threw their arms apart from their body to loosen the ties, causing them to fall harmlessly to the ground. Six smirked, but their smirk was quickly wiped away as they saw the package that Sam pulled from his back was being hurled directly at their face.
The package was briefcase-sized, but carried the mass of a freight train as it slammed into Courier Six's face. Six's masked helmet shattered at the impact, the entire left side of their face from the nose out now visible to the opposing courier. Their scarred visage from beneath the mask no longer hid an unquenchable rage as they regained their senses.
"You should've just walked away…" Six mumbled, their teeth clenched as they pulled a modified service rifle from their back. The wooden stock of the rifle sat comfortably in Six's shoulder.
Sam's eyes widened as the explosions of gunfire erupted and his eyes quickly zeroed in on a burnt-out nearby car. He sprinted, but he knew he wouldn't be fast enough, but he had to try.
Sam's shoulder-mounted Odradek swung around to catch the bullets, directed by Lou from within his chest pod. The six-pronged star shaped Odradek caught three bullets that would surely have been fatal, but fell apart at the impact of the shots. The rest of Six's bullets slammed into the rusted carcass of the ruined car, barely missing the Porter as he dove behind his targeted cover. Six continued to fire at the man behind the car, his position easily visible from the stack of packages that stook out at least five feet above the car roof.
Sam stayed silent as the gunfire continued to ring out, pulling a package down from his tower and unfolded it to form his futuristic-looking assault rifle. He also reached for his belt which carried a hematic grenade, pulling the pin on it and waited for his opponent to reload.
Just as Sam heard a momentary halt in the gunfire, he lobbed the hematic grenade over his cover, the small cannister rolling to the feet of Courier Six. The cylinder exploded in a fine red mist before Six could react, coating the Courier in the blood within the grenade.
The blood spattered into the Courier's shattered mask, blinding their left eye and causing them to stagger just a bit. Sam popped up from his cover and aimed his assault rifle true, recounting his experiences in Cliff's war-torn beaches. He aimed center mass, unloading his assault rifle clip into the torso Six, who staggered backwards with each rubber bullet.
'These bullets are rubber…' Courier Six came to the surprising conclusion. The bullets that found the weak points in their armor, while stinging like no other, still did not tear through their skin. 'What a half-measure.'
As Sam looked down to reload, Courier Six slung their rifle across their back and pulled out a bowie knife, knowing the hail of pain that they were about to charge through. But it was only pain, nothing more… permanent.
Sam looked back up as he slammed the magazine into his assault rifle to see his armored opponent sprinting towards him. He pulled the trigger, letting fly a hail of rubber bullets in an effort to incapacitate Six. The bullets bounced off of the Courier's armor to little effect, only scraping the still wet blood off of their chestplate from the hematic grenade.
Six leapt over the rusted out car roof just as Sam's second magazine ran out, their knife poised to plunge directly into Sam's chest. Sam fell backwards with Six on top of him, his hands struggling against Six's superior strength as the knife slowly lowered to make contact with the Porter's jacket.
Sam thought quickly as he moved only one hand to keep the knife blocked as he twisted the tube on his chest, transitioning the opaque chest pod to translucent orange. Lou slammed against the transparent glass of the pod, staring daggers into the Courier's eye above.
"What the shit is that?" Six was startled, letting up on the knife for a split second, which was all Sam needed. Sam engaged his strength-boosting exoskeleton, shoving hard against Courier Six to push them off and against the rusted car, denting what was left of the driver's side door and again flinging his weapon to the dusty ground.
Sam twisted the tube connected to his BB, again turning the pod opaque, before grabbing a package on his back in one hand and flicking out his cufflink cord cutter with the other. He stood with the improvised weapons in hand, watching Six recover and hold their hands up defensively.
"Just give up, don't you know who I am?" Six clenched their fists, their brow visibly furrowed behind the cracked mask. "I am lord death of murder fucking mountain!"
"Shut up and give me the package," Sam grunted, unamused. Six couldn't help but sneak a smirk under the mask. They were impressed by the man's tenacity, but it wouldn't save them in the slightest.
Sam swung the package in his hand overhead, aiming to slam the suitcase-sized box over the Courier's crown. Just as Sam's arm reached its arc peak, however, Six ducked low, gathering sand in both of their hands and immediately flung it into Sam's face. The dust particles dug deep into Sam's eyes causing him to stagger backwards and rub the dust away, the box dropping to his side as he did. The heels of his feet hit air as he cleared one eye enough to look backwards, the canyon below literally a hairs-breadth away.
Six's eyes snapped to their 9mm pistol they had dropped earlier as they dove to grab it. Their fingers found the trigger as they rolled upright, drawing Sam in their sights just as the man fully cleared the dust from their eyes.
Two shots rang out as two 9mm rounds tore through Sam's chest, red mist exploding out the back of his jacket's exit holes. Sam's breath caught in his throat as he fell to his knees, looking down as the blood began to soak his jacket. He felt the movement of Lou within the pod, sensing that the Porter was in extreme danger.
Six rose to their feet, gripping the pistol tightly as they walked to the downed Sam. As they approached, Sam weakly reached out for the black box at Six's hip. Six brushed his hand away, aiming their pistol at Sam's head.
"A not-so-wise man once said to me," Six said, rubbing their chest where the rubber bullets left their marks. "Getting outplayed and getting cheated ain't the same thing. But if there's one thing to take away from him, is to know when to make alliances rather than enemies."
Six slid the pistol into their holster, fumbling around their bag to retrieve a needle with a small pressure gauge atop.
"Take a stimpak, then we'll talk," Six knelt to Sam, reaching it out to the Porter. Sam was confused, but saw from the tear in the mask that the Courier's eye had no malice.
Sam weakly reached out his hand, taking the stimpak and pushing it into his chest. The serum inside rushed into Sam's blood vessels and he could feel the healing effects almost immediately. It was like magic, but he looked between his strands of hair at the fellow courier before him, giving a nod in thanks.
"So, Sam, help me help you," Six said, reaching a hand out to help Sam to his feet. Sam refused the hand, shrinking away from the physical contact, but rose and took a step further away from the cliff's edge for his own safety.
"The package, I need to take it to Capital Knot City so we can figure out how to disarm it," Sam said, his wounds surprisingly already healed. "It can trigger…"
"Trigger nuclear annihilation, I know," Six nodded solemnly, pointing to the crack in the earth that was the Divide. They thought a moment before holding out the package, cradled in both hands.
"I'll let you have this, only if you let me accompany you to this Capital Knot," Six said.
"I don't do partners," Sam retorted.
"Tough shit, because I'm not letting this package out of my sight until it's no longer a threat," Six shook their head. They moved over to the bushes with Ulysses, grabbing their knife along the way to cut the man free of his bindings. "Besides, I'm kind of tired of leading. I need a change of scenery from the Mojave anyhow. Not like New Vegas is going anywhere while I'll be gone."
"Fine, if that's how it's got to be," Sam conceded, knowing the alternative was at the bottom of the canyon.
Six smiled, taking their helmet off and looking at the damage. They shook their head, tossing it aside, knowing they would have to find a full replacement for the gear, before showing Sam the way through the canyon wreckage.
Ulysses was left alone once more in the Divide overlook, slightly shamed at his capture, but faith renewed in another flag bearer, another courier, the lifeblood of another nation.
Winner:
Courier Six