"Go back there and live your best life," said Jake the Dog after sharing a hug from his adopted brother.
Finn Mertens nodded in acceptance and stepped through the portal that the new entity of Death conjured with a smile. As far as he was concerned, order was restored in the realm of all 50 dead worlds, the Lich was defeated, and Finn had closure reuniting with his best friend before saying farewell.
Jake gave Finn one last look before the former turned into a spirit-like entity. His soul entered a state of nirvana, then he floated away moving on from the past life he once shared with the hero of Ooo.
With that, Death (formerly Mr Fox) closed the portal so that he could tend to the other souls.
"I wonder what life's going to turn me into this time," Finn pondered out loud as he flew headfirst into the bright tunnel.
He closed his eyes and felt the tender warmth that brushed his skin. It was soft, gentle, soothing, all the things reminiscent to a warm breeze from a day at the beach. He didn't know how long he would be traveling and as time went on, he drifted to sleep.
Sometime later, Finn opened his eyes with a groggy expression. Despite the fact he was well-rested, he couldn't help but feel sore as though he had physically exerted himself. His bed side alarm rang obnoxiously and he rolled over to dismiss it before getting up from bed. As he stretched and rubbed his eyes, all the memories and experiences he previously had were obscured as though he had a massive fever dream.
"Oh, man," Finn said out loud as he held his head with one hand. "That's the last time I'm ever mixing whiskey and fire ant meat while watching lots of television… damn!"
The young man in his twenties spent the next few hours recovering from his hang over. The more he got in tune with his surroundings, the more he discovered he was settled inside a modern home with a Pre-Mushroom War interior. He also checked his left forearm and noticed he had a special electronic bracelet with a mini computer screen which read, "Pip-boy 2000."
All these things stirred confusion for the man at first, but he shook his head back in concentration. The first thing that came to mind was that he needed to get dressed and eat breakfast. As he went through his dresser, he noticed his wardrobe was simple at best. Inside there were 3 sets of blue jumpsuits with the yellow number "21" embroidered on the left breast and on the back between the shoulders. Finn stared at them questionably for a moment until he shrugged in acceptance and put one of the outfits on.
After being dressed, Finn walked to the kitchen and made steak and eggs. He ate quietly in silence since he lived alone and he tried recalling more of his past life before it faded into obscurity. It frustrated him that he couldn't remember something so vivid in his latest dream, especially since it felt like it dragged on for years. Eventually he gave up on the thought and he checked his assignment saved on his pip-boy. The following message read as followed:
Instructions
Deliver the package at the north entrance to the Vegas Strip, by way of Freeside. An agent of the recipient will meet you at the checkpoint, take possession of the package and pay for the delivery. Bring the payment to Johnson Nash at the Mojave Express Agency in Primm.
Bonus on completion: 250 caps
Manifest
The package contains one (1) oversized poker chip, composed of platinum.
Contract Penalties
You are an authorized agent of the Mojave Express Package until delivery is complete and payment has been processed, contractually obligated to complete this transaction and materially responsible for any malfeasance or loss. Failure to deliver the proper recipient may result in forfeiture of your advance and bonus, criminal charges, and/or pursuit by mercenary reclamation teams. The Mojave Express is not responsible for any injury or loss of life you experience as a result of said reclamation efforts.
After reading the note, Finn nodded to himself in understanding. All the memories from his new life started to pour through his mind like a dam being opened. It was the year 2281, the Earth he lived in took place in the aftermath of a nuclear war between China and the United States. He was born and raised in an advanced fallout shelter called Vault 21 where he would eventually venture out of to become a postman of the Mojave Express which involved traveling through the North American states of California, Nevada, and Arizona. Due to the state of the apocalyptic wasteland, order was fragile at best with justice being maintained only through organized factions such as the New California Republic and Caesar's Legion. Overall, society had regressed back into the Wild West where crimes minor or otherwise were punishable by death.
There were other groups and tribes that Finn in his reincarnated life recalled, but for now he set outdoors to fulfill his next delivery: a large platinum chip. Before he left, he checked into his inventory and took a sip from his trusty Vault 13 canteen. It was a gift from one of the said vault dwellers to express gratitude for delivering a letter regarding the well-being of a separated family.
Truth be told, Finn had no idea what made the chip special upon examining the item. It had black stripes alongside the rims and a black spade in the center with an engraving above it labeled "Lucky 38." As someone who was humble, Finn wasn't much of a gambler other than knowing that particular casino was closed off to the general public.
After brushing aside his thoughts, he set out of his home and started traveling to his destination. He remembered vaguely how a previous courier was assigned to make this particular delivery, but backed out at the last second. Finn was puzzled over sudden call out, but was glad to accept the job with the notion it would be an easy delivery to make money.
Unfortunately as life would have it, he would be sorely mistaken.
During the day, Finn took caution as he traversed the desert wasteland. If there weren't any raiders or Fiends who tried to ambush him, there were also giant insects like scorpions or evolved tarantula hawk wasps called Cazadores he had to be wary from. Thankfully, Finn was fairly familiar with the region and he carefully avoided any encounters by taking long detours. After all, he was only armed with a 9mm pistol with only two clips of ammunition in reserve, not enough to engage in a long fight.
Speaking of which, he did see some skirmishes being carried out between the NCR and Caesar's Legion. Whenever they would fight, it seemed the Legion would always win 80% of the time. The Legion primarily won by rushing their opponents with melee weapons and close quarters combat, while the NCR retreated constantly to depend on ranged tactics. The NCR's weaponry did have stopping power as they used Service Rifles and carbines but since they were single shot in nature and slow to reload, the Legion would close the distance between them before the NCR troops could inflict casualties. Other times however, the NCR would prevail whenever they had Desert Rangers on the field. They were an elite unit consisting of battle hardened veterans who were versatile in combat and equipped with anti-material rifles and revolvers. Usually they would pick the Legion troops off with deadly accuracy before the latter could ever hope to be within striking distance.
And so, Finn treaded carefully. Even though he had no allegiance to anyone, he still didn't take the chance to make himself known. Either of the two factions might mistaken him for a spy and shoot him on sight, and he really wanted to live to see another day. Once he was in the clear, Finn checked his map on the pip-boy and saw he still had a long ways to go North to reach his destination. On the bright side however, he did catch a glimpse of the Lucky 38 tower looming over New Vegas. He let out a small chuckle at the sight. The design of the landmark resembled the Seattle space needle in Washington state and the other one over in Toronto, Canada. He wondered if those were connected in some way, but before he could think more about it, he heard a someone shuffling behind him slowly until they knocked him out with a shovel from the back of his head.
Finn didn't know how long he was out. For all he knew, he was dead and his soul was stuck in nothing but pitch blackness. After a few seconds of coming to however, Finn realized his hands were tied with a rope to the front. His vision was still fuzzy from the blow, but he was able to make out the fact it was night time already with a full moon and that he was currently sitting on his knees with a water tower nearby.
"We got what you were after, so pay up!" A man gruffly demanded.
"You're crying in the rain, pally," another man said in a gentler, charismatic voice.
"Hey, guess who's wakin' up over here!" A third man said sneering.
Finn struggled to pull his hands free but gave up when he realized his captors stared at him. There were three overall, with two of them wearing biker leather outfits and the one in the middle wearing a black and white checkered business suit.
"Time to cash out," the man in the checkered suit spoke smoothly after he smoked a cigarette and discarded it. He was a Caucasian in his 30's with short dark brown hair.
"Will you get it over with?" The biker to his right complained with both hands spread out for emphasis.
The checkered man pointed in the air with his right hand to silence him as if he needed a minute.
"Maybe Kahns kill people without looking them in the face. But I ain't a fink, you dig?"He asked with a slight edge to his tone.
He paused as he reached into his coat with his right hand and pulled out the chip Finn was supposed to deliver.
"You've made your last delivery, kid. Sorry you got twisted up in this scene," he said as he held it mockingly before slipping it back in his coat. Moments later, he pulled out what appeared to be a silver 9mm pistol with an engraving of a woman etched on an ivory grip.
The checkered man continued, "From where you're kneeling, it must seem like an 18 carat run of bad luck!" He then aimed his pistol slowly at Finn's head in a foreboding way.
"Truth is," the checkered man trailed off-handedly with a smug. "The game was rigged from the start!"
The next thing Finn knew, his eyes widened upon seeing the gun muzzle flash. His sight blackened instantly upon feeling the bullet striking his head, and his body was flung backwards into a lifeless heap. He was certain he heard another shot being fired not too long after, but the pain was already minuscule to even feel it.
Part of him wondered if his soul would depart from his reincarnated self, but it never came. Instead, his soul spent the whole night in limbo almost as though his body was still clinging on for dear life.
Little did everyone know, a mysterious sentry bot was making the effort to dig him out of the grave his captors dug. And in the events that would eventually follow, the Mojave and the world beyond it was bound to change forever. All from a man who everyone would remember him as:
Courier Six
