Courier's Journal: Week Two
Day 8: October 26th 2281.
Getting ready to head out soon. After leaving a note for Manny, I went back to my room to sort my bags and lighten the load a little. I've picked up a lot of crap in the past week, and I wanted to offload the excess.
I visited Cliff's to sell most of it, including the minigun belonging to that crazy nightkin I killed last night. He also purchased a lot of my perishable food, unwanted chems, mines, and energy weapons I picked up in REPCONN yesterday after the ghouls left. In return, I picked up a couple of laser recyclers and some parts for my repeater, again mostly to get rid of some caps, so that I'm not carrying around or stashing so many at once. I attached the recyclers to a laser RCW and recharger pistol from REPCONN, and took apart the repeater to replace the stock, tube, and receiver, and then went to the edge of town to practice shooting with them.
After some testing, I decided on a loadout of four guns for the rest of my journey – two ballistic weapons and two energy weapons. That Gun and my newly upgraded plasma pistol will serve as my sidearms, and I have my new laser rifle and customised .357 repeater for long range. And of course, I also still have the baseball bat for close quarters, some grenades for when things get hairy, and ED-E's carrying the grenade launcher in case of a real emergency.
As for my other supplies, I've tried to keep light, but I've still got quite a bit with me. Some doctor's bags, stimpaks, healing powder, and other general medicine. A variety of chems, no more than five of each. Spare ammunition. Ten brahmin steaks and a snack for later. Water and soft drinks, plus four bottles of whiskey. Some empty bottles, a glass pitcher, a coffee pot and mugs. A few useful cooking ingredients. The chopper, plates, cutlery, and a food sanitiser from REPCONN. A repair kit, binoculars, bobby pins, and seven stealth boys. Twelve different magazines for light reading. My Caravan deck, in case I want to get my ass kicked again. About fifteen hundred caps. Boone's spare NCR beret. And the cigarette butt I picked up in Goodsprings, in case it helps with finding Benny.
Everything else, I've decided to keep here in Novac for now, since Jeannie May said the room is mine indefinitely, and once again I can just send a courier for it if I ever need anything or find someplace more permanent to settle. As well as the fridge full of alcohol and a wardrobe full of pre-war clothes which came with the room, I've also decided to leave my revolver, submachine gun, laser and recharger pistols, laser RCW, service rifle, and varmint rifle here rather than sell them, since I already spent the caps on improving them all. And I picked up a few keepsakes for my time in Novac as well, like a spare Bright Brotherhood robe, a pre-war spacesuit and helmet, a REPCONN jumpsuit, and a Dinky the Dinosaur toy for display.
I've left my star bottlecaps in the safe here too, since they attract trouble just as surely as carrying around a heap of regular caps would. I've picked up seventeen of them in the past week, which is already more than any of the other collectors I've encountered had. I'm pretty good at this! Hell, maybe I'll get Festus's treasure some day? Wouldn't that be something?
On a final note, I had a very weird conversation with Cliff while we were trading earlier. He had already heard the news about Jeannie May somehow, and was letting me know how he'd be taking over her duties at the motel. I was feeling guilty, so I did something ill-advised and confessed to her murder (leaving out Boone's part in it, of course, since he has a name and a reputation to ruin, and I don't). Considering that Cliff was supposedly her friend, and how he gave me a discount just because I'd met her, I was expecting him to be at least slightly upset with me for this. But he wasn't. He was surprised, for sure, but nothing more than that. I told him she had it coming, ready to explain exactly why I did it, but he just accepted it without any further explanation, and that was it. He didn't even rescind my discount. It was just business as usual after that, and he never mentioned it again.
I think Cliff Briscoe may be a sociopath.
Anyway, Boone's up and about now. Time to get on the road.
Hail to the Keeper.
Killed: Glass bottles and rocks.
Today's breakfast: Sugar Bombs.
Had sex with: Still early yet. We'll see how things go with Boone.
Day 8: October 26th 2281 UPDATE.
So Boone got shot on the road. That sucks. I've had to do some surgery on him, and we're resting at this ruined gas station for now while he recovers.
It started after we left Novac. After running into Manny again and saying my final goodbyes, I headed out with ED-E and Boone. He didn't get much sleep last night, and is definitely not a morning person, so we didn't speak much for the first stretch. We passed Gibson Scrapyard first, and then HELIOS One later on, a pre-war power plant held by the NCR. It was a pretty sight, and I was tempted to go over and explore the place, but we were already behind schedule, and I really want to get to Boulder City already.
Boone got curious and asked where we're going, so as we walked I explained the basics of what happened with Benny in Goodsprings, and why I am now chasing after him. Boone took it as a mission of revenge, which isn't quite my reasoning, but I didn't dispute him; revenge is something he understands, so he said he'd help me with it, so long as we still find the time to hunt the Legion.
Well, he got his wish, because as soon as he said that, the Legion sent a fucking death squad after us. Four trained assassins ambushed us on the highway. I shit you not, two of them were centurions. I guess my attack on the Legion's raid camp didn't go unnoticed.
It was a terrible battle. I nearly died. Permanently, this time. The Legion are a whole other league from Powder Gangers and geckos, and even if there were fewer of them this time, at least in the NCRCF or the Bison Steve I had the advantage of an enclosed space with lots of walls to hide behind. This time I was out in the open on a highway, with only rocks and concrete dividers to cower behind. I'm normally pretty good as far as avoiding gunfire goes, but even I was nicked a few times.
Fortunately for me, Boone and ED-E are both much better shots than I am over distance, even taking VATS into account, and they were able to hold the bastards back for long enough for me to prep some grenades and load my armour-piercing .556 rounds. We killed them in the end, but Boone got shot before the last guy dropped.
I treated us both with stimpaks and Med-X and let him rest a while, and he probably would have been fine, if not for the fact that once I was done looting the bodies, and we decided we still had it in us to press on down the road, a group of Vipers also jumped us. They were hiding behind a billboard. Boone took his second and third bullets in less than half an hour, and this time, I legitimately thought that they'd killed him, which I did not take well, to say the least. Those Vipers didn't know what hit them afterwards. But for the record, it was a baseball bat.
But Boone did survive, of course, if just barely. Luckily, by the time we were ambushed, the El Dorado Gas & Service station was in view. Boone kept consciousness just long enough to get to it, and then passed out on a makeshift bed in the garage. I performed a medical examination and did my best to treat him. He was suffering from shock and lost more blood than I'd like, but it was nothing I couldn't fix with my supplies. Thank fuck for those doctor's bags. And thank fuck for my medical training.
I'm waiting for Boone to wake up now as I write this, making myself a coffee, cooking up some lunch, and checking what we picked up from the Legion. I also went back and looted the dead Vipers after I was done with Boone. The two groups had a lot of interesting stuff between them, especially weapons. There's a 10mm pistol here, both 9mm and 10mm submachine guns, a .44 Magnum revolver, a .308 calibre hunting rifle similar to the one Boone uses, a sawed-off shotgun, several throwing spears, a pulse grenade of all things, and even a working ripper. I don't know which of these I'll be keeping and which I'm selling, but this definitely changes things. They had a lot of general supplies on them as well.
Oh, and I found another star bottle cap in the gas station's store. I count eighteen of them now. So yeah, clearly it's my lucky day.
Hail to the Keeper.
Killed: Legion assassins and Vipers.
Today's lunch: Currently making a bloatfly slider.
Had sex with: Really not a priority at the moment.
Mojave Incident Investigation Task Force Report #143:
Video evidence of activities of subject "COURIER," recovered during Operation: BLACKJACK by Agent FORTUNE. All contents classified level GAMMA.
Boone's eyes flickered open to a gray ceiling. He was in the shade, but sunlight spilled into the room behind him through a hole in the roof that may have once been a skylight. A gentle breeze blew across his bare arms, and he sat up with a long groan as he tried to ignore the dull pain in his side.
He sat on a dirty yellow mat on a sandy floor, inside a garage with no doors or shutters. An old wreck was parked just outside, and HELIOS One loomed large in the distance beyond. Boone's beret and sunglasses lay beside him, along with his bag, though his rifle was nowhere to be seen. With a sigh, he picked them up and put everything on, hanging the bag over his shoulder. His side ached again as he stood, and he lifted his shirt and ran a finger over an unusually smooth patch of skin just above his waist. It itched slightly where he touched it; the stimpaks had done their work here. It wasn't ideal, but being shot never was.
Covering it again, he stepped out of the garage and into the scorching sun, looking up and down along the highway, and taking in the sight of the rundown pre-war service station. Off to his right, past the long-empty gas pumps, a dark-skinned man in black armour with short, cropped hair sat cross-legged next to a campfire built on a sextet of cinderblocks. Meat sizzled and a coffee pot boiled away on the fire, and a random assortment of guns lay on the ground around him, along with a Legion centurion's helmet and a duffle bag. A small, spherical robot hovered in place behind the man, its front grill and gun turning Boone's way as he approached them.
The man looked up at him, his lightly stubbled face cast in shadow from the black desperado hat he wore, but still his grin was warm and welcoming, and his teeth were immaculately white for a wastelander's.
"You're awake!" said the Courier in his smooth, low voice. "About time."
He reached up and removed a pair of patrolman's sunglasses, revealing his deep green eyes, which met Boone's with a look of gentle concern that his wide grin failed to hide.
"How are you feeling?"
Boone looked over his shoulder at the garage, and then back to the Courier.
"Fine," he said, curtly. "Where's my gun?"
The Courier looked over the two rifles on the ground next to him, and passed Boone the beat-up one with a scope. ED-E beeped nonsensically while Boone checked his rifle's condition, loaded a fresh magazine, and holstered it in its usual place on his back.
"Coffee?" said the Courier, lifting the coffee pot from the fire.
When Boone didn't respond, he poured out a steaming mug anyway, and held it out for him. Still standing, Boone tentatively took the offered mug, and raised it to his nose to sniff. It smelled okay, so he took a drink. It was bitter, but it had a certain flavour to it.
"How did you make this?" he asked.
"To be honest, it's actually mostly boiled coyote tobacco." The Courier shrugged, pouring out a second mug for himself. "Coffee beans are expensive. Can't use too many at once. But it's close enough. I also use some honey mesquite pods for flavour."
Boone took another sip.
"Not bad."
The Courier smiled and nodded.
"So, what's going on?" asked Boone.
"Nothing much." The Courier took a drink as well. "You were in shock and lost some blood, but I handled it. Dug out the bullets, sterilised the wounds, administered stimpaks, and a little Med-X for the pain. You should be fine, but let me know if you feel dizzy or light-headed at all."
"I feel fine," said Boone, pointedly ignoring the pain in his side as he sat down beside the Courier.
"Well good, because I don't have any spare blood bags on hand. The stimpaks should've been enough for the amount you lost, but if you do start to feel woozy, I recommend additional fluids and an iron-rich diet for a couple days. So fruits, vegetables, and red meat. In fact, you should probably do that anyway just to be safe."
"You a doctor?" said Boone, looking out across the road and the desert beyond.
"I like to think I know my way around a medical table," the Courier said nonchalantly, picking a small piece of meat off the campfire with a knife. "Hungry?"
"What is that?"
"Bloatfly," he said, picking a bun and some kind of fruit out of a plastic box beside him, and assembling a burger. "Vipers killed one, and I didn't want to waste the meat. You can try it if you want, but personally, I recommend the brahmin steak. McBrides gave it to me."
Boone went with the steak, and the Courier passed him a plate and cutlery once it was finished reheating. As they quietly ate their lunch and drank their coffee beneath the shade of the service station, looking out over the desert together, the Courier broke the silence.
"I wanted to say thanks, by the way. Those Legion fuckers would have killed me if you weren't there."
Boone shrugged.
"Likewise." He took another bite of his steak. "What did you do to get them to come after you?"
"I might have shot up one of their camps to free some slaves," the Courier replied, leaning back and resting on his elbows.
"Glad to see that we share an opinion on how to handle the Legion."
"Well, don't praise me too hard for it. I did it to make up for another group I let get away from me. I was there in Nipton when it burned. Or, I arrived shortly after, anyway. The guys who did it were still there... Told me right to my face to attack them if I really thought that they were so horrible, and... I couldn't do it... I guess I was just afraid."
Boone remained silent for a moment, looking aside at the Courier. After he finished his steak, he wiped his mouth and put the plate down between them.
"It's fine," he said. "Don't worry about it. Fear's natural in a situation like that."
The Courier gave him a grim smile, and his eyes turned to the ground.
"True," he said.
The Courier finished his coffee, stood up, and stretched.
"If you feel up to it, we can get back on the road as soon as we're done here," he said, placing both hands on his belt. "Or, if you want, we can stay a while longer, maybe even stop the night or head back to Novac if you think you need to. Up to you, Boone. I won't mind either way."
Boone looked back down the highway, the way they'd came. In the distance, he could see some of the corpses from their recent battle. The Vipers all lay in a heap by the billboard. Further along, although they were out of sight, he knew the Legion assassins were scattered all over the highway as well. HELIOS One once again loomed in the distance, shining across the sand. It was worrying that the Legion had come this close to an NCR base without anyone else stopping them. They were getting bolder.
"Do you prefer Boone? Or should I call you Craig? Or, is there any other name you'd rather go by?"
Caught off-guard, the sniper had to consider the question for a moment. He briefly looked back to the Courier to answer him.
"...Boone's fine."
He returned his gaze to the highway and HELIOS for a second, taking another drink and finishing his mug. Then his brow furrowed, and he turned around to face the Courier again.
"I just realised I don't know your name at all," he said. "You never introduced yourself."
The Courier gave him an innocent smile. "Well, you trust strangers more, don't you?"
"You're not a stranger anymore."
"Aren't I?" the Courier asked with a roguish grin.
"No."
He shrugged. "I'm the Courier. With a capital C. That's it."
Boone glared at him through his sunglasses.
"You're giving me that look like you're expecting something else, but I'm serious. That's really it. My own wife used to call me Courier. That's the name I chose, and I've gone by it so long, I don't remember ever being called anything else."
"Call yourself what you want," Boone said neutrally. "Doesn't matter to me."
The Courier simply smiled and nodded.
"Problem solved, then! So, what do you wanna do?"
Day 8: October 26th 2281 UPDATE 2.
We finally got to Boulder City today. Something about the place is familiar to me. Maybe it's just the name. I'm sure I've heard it somewhere before. Before I came to the Mojave, I mean. An old memory. I just can't place it, and it's really bugging me.
I'm getting ahead of myself. Boone woke up about an hour after surgery, and after catching him up on the situation, we got back on the road again. As we walked, we spoke about my lack of shooting ability in the fight with the Legion. Boone doesn't do "reassuring" so well, but he offered to teach me a few sniper's tricks that could help, which I took him up on. There were some fire-breathing giant ants skittering about nearby, which had ambushed and killed a passing trader and his brahmin on the road, so we took an hour's detour into the bed of the nearby dry lake to thin their numbers and get in some target practice. It took me a while to get the technique down, but Boone's instructions definitely helped. I'm handling the guns a lot better now, and we got some ant meat and nectar out of it to sell, which is also a plus. We even saved a stray dog from the ants, and it didn't attack us for once, so that was nice.
Less nice was the crashed rocket we found in a small crater, surrounded by the charred bodies of dead ghouls. I guess not all of Jason's flock made it. Fuck, I hope this wasn't my fault for recalibrating their flight path. I'm sure my calculations were correct. It had to be a hardware failure, right?
At least that rocket was mostly the surviving ferals, by the looks of it.
After that we returned to the road, and came across a drifter who had made camp by some billboard. We stopped a spell to talk to him (well, I talked to him, while Boone kept watch and acted broody). Interesting fellow. Damn near gave me a heart attack when we got to talking about his absent father. His story started sounding familiar, and he sort of smelled like my kind, but the ages didn't match up, so false alarm, thank God.
Then it was pretty much a straight run to Boulder City. We ran into a merchant along the way who bought all of our ant meat, spears, and the submachine guns, but other than that, Boone and I just talked more. I learned a little bit about him, but not as much as I'd have liked. I know that he was in 1st Recon, a sniper battalion which was involved in some bad business up at Bitter Springs that Boone doesn't want to talk about. I know that his wife is most definitely dead, though there's something he's hiding about her that he also doesn't want to talk about. I know that he was friends with Manny once, but not anymore. And I know that he still believes in the NCR's cause, even if he's no longer with them. That, and he never takes off his beret. I now feel uniquely privileged to have seen his hair the previous night.
He told me a bit about the internal workings of the NCR military too, such as the fact that their main base in this region is a fortified pre-war airport called Camp McCarran, which has a monorail that runs directly to the Strip. It's mainly for running supplies, but troops can use it to visit the Strip and gamble while they're on leave, too. I found that interesting. I also learned that the guy currently in charge, General Oliver, isn't very popular. I remember hearing his name once or twice before, but I've never really paid attention to NCR politics. I could tell you who the president is, and that's about it. So I'm learning a lot today.
On the way into Boulder City, we came across a train station which I thought looked like an office. We went there to ask around, but found it empty and abandoned. I doubted that it had been that way since the Great War, so when I saw an active terminal there, I figured it was NCR, and tried to hack it to get a clue about what was going on, but there was nothing on it. Just a command to open the floor safe. I got a few caps from it, but I was mostly disappointed.
Heading into the city proper, we came to a memorial to the soldiers who died in the Battle of Hoover Dam, and an off-duty trooper named Kowalski paying his respects. Nearby, there was a bar being operated by one of Boulder City's few remaining residents, who told us about how dead it is around here. And of course there was also the massive pile of rubble and ruins that used to be the city, even more rundown than your usual pre-war ruins.
It was at this point that I came to suspect that something bad might have happened to this place. Having never been to this part of the Mojave before now, this was the first time I got to really hear much about the Battle of Hoover Dam, and apparently Boulder City was a casualty of the fight. I was surprised to learn, however, that it was actually the NCR that blew it up. They lured the Legion inside the city as a trap and sacrificed it to kill as many of them as possible. It doesn't sound like the civilians were harmed, but still... damn.
Not long after arriving, we learned about the hostage situation in the ruins. We'd finally caught up with the Great Khans from Benny's gang. They had captured some NCR troopers and gotten themselves trapped in the enclosed ruins, and were now surrounded on all sides. The NCR were planning to go in guns blazing and risk the hostages to clear them out. I didn't want that, and neither did the lieutenant in charge of the operation, so I managed to talk him into letting me into the ruins to negotiate with the Khans. Boone did not accompany me, and advised that I not wear my 1st Recon beret if I wanted to talk to them. Not sure what that was about, but I suspect that it has something to do with whatever went down at Bitter Springs.
There were more Khans there than there were when Benny shot me, so I guess they met up with a larger group somewhere, but one of them did recognise me. Their leader, Jessup, was the only surviving Khan whose face was familiar to me, and he knew who I was the moment I walked through the door. He was definitely surprised to see me still kicking. Despite the all-around awkward situation, however, I was able to defuse tensions and get him to release the hostages. He also told me more about Benny and the deal that they had. He betrayed them before I arrived, and ran for Vegas with the platinum chip, presumably to avoid having to pay the Khans, which led directly to the little situation we walked in on. I have no idea how many days the Khans were holed up here in Boulder City, but I'm going to guess it was a while.
Either way, I ended it and secured the hostages. The lieutenant received orders from the NCR to shoot the Khans anyway, but I convinced him to let them pass safely. No need for senseless death, especially when the Khans were trusting us. Boone was surprised I let them go after what they and Benny did to me, but as I said, I'm not in this for revenge. I've done that whole "wronged man on the warpath" thing before, and it's honestly just fucking exhausting. I think my new companion is already reconsidering how well we understand each other. Hopefully I can forge some other kind of connection with him besides revenge.
So the stand-off ended peacefully, the Khans left, and Jessup gave me Benny's lighter as thanks, with a request that I stuff it up a certain orifice of his. I'm strongly considering it, but we'll cross that bridge when we reach it.
With that resolved and night approaching, I made some desert salads out of my brahmin steaks, and we returned to the bar for the evening to take a load off. It was just Boone and I there for a little while, plus a couple of workers in the corner, but it got pretty lively once the NCR troopers got off duty. We shared a drink with Gilbert and Ackerman (the hostages I rescued), one of the troopers from the stand-off called Hastings, and Kowalski also joined us.
It was a pretty great evening. We talked about the day's events, the president's upcoming visit to Hoover Dam, some guy called Jack Wilson who's slowing the construction around here, swapped war stories, and I told them about Benny and Nipton and the ghouls and all the other crazy shit I've been up to lately. Not sure Kowalski even believed me, but one of the others gave me another star bottle cap, and four beers in, Boone finally loosened up and joined us in a round of singing. I guess it helped that it was an army song about how the Legion are dumbass savages and Caesar has a micropenis; Boone does not like the Legion very much.
It was a good night. A perfect end to a shitty day. I hope tomorrow will end as pleasantly.
Hail to the Keeper.
Killed: Loads of fire ants and a couple of bloatflies.
Today's dinner: Desert salad.
Had sex with: Gilbert and Hastings, out in the ruins after we left the bar. I invited Boone to join us too, even if only with one of the girls instead of me, but he declined. I don't think he'll be getting over that whole "dead wife" thing so easily.
Day 8: October 26th 2281 UPDATE 3.
I remember now where I heard the name. I remember why it was familiar. It was an old song. I can't believe I didn't realise it right away. I used to listen to it all the time.
"A place called Boulder on the wild Colorado..."
I'm no dam-builder, but they buried me too. And I am still around...
Hail to the Keeper.
Killed: -
Today's dinner: -
Had sex with: -
Author's notes:
The song the Courier is referencing here is "The Highwayman," probably the most famous version of which is by (who else?) the Highwaymen, a supergroup comprised of Johnny Cash, Willie Nelson, Waylon Jennings, and Kris Kristofferson. It's a little past the usual cut-off date for music featured in Fallout, but I like to think that some variation of the song was still produced in the Fallout universe at some point. I only discovered it relatively recently, but it's a good song, and moreover, it's one that's very fitting for this particular version of the Courier.