Vincit Qui Patitur
Vincit Qui Patitur– He conquers who endures
A lifetime of service to the Legion leaves more than just physical scars. Felix knows this. He knows he's a monster and nothing he can do will ever change that. Still, he tries. Tries to leave that life behind. Tries to see what else the world has to offer. Tries to make a living as a courier. But things never go as planned. He didn't plan on getting shot in the head. He didn't plan on getting pulled back into the war. And he certainly didn't plan on allying with an NCR First Recon sniper who would kill him in a heartbeat if he knew the truth about Felix.
Chapter 1: Memento Mori (Remember, You Are Going to Die.)
"You got what you were after, so pay up." The demanding voice woke Felix. He immediately noticed his hands were tied and he was lying in the sand.
"You're crying in the rain, pally." Felix opened his eyes to see a man in a checkered coat standing nearby with two thugs with shovels beside him.
"Guess who's waking up over here?" A third voice spoke as Felix dragged himself to his knees.
"Time to cash out." The man in the checkered coat said as he dropped his cigarette. Cash out? Felix thought to himself. He knew that term. It meant… Even though his hands were tied, Felix surged to his feet, charging the checkered bastard. The thugs dropped their shovels, and dashed forward to grab Felix's arms. They were stronger than the average wastelander and managed to hold him back. Felix still felt sluggish from being unconscious and his head hurt like hell.
"Would you get it over with?" One of the thugs said as he held Felix still.
"Maybe Khans kill people without looking them in the face, but I ain't a fink, dig?" The checkered bastard removed Felix's package from his coat pocket and flashed it in front of the Felix, flaunting his victory. "You've made your last delivery kid. Sorry you got twisted up in this scene." The checkered bastard stowed the small platinum chip in his pocket and withdrew a pistol. "From where you're standing it must seem like an 18-carat run of bad luck. Truth is... the game was rigged from the start." Felix broke away from the thugs as the shot was fired. Everything went black.
"You're awake. How about that." Felix froze at the voice, fiercely resisting the urge to take control of the situation. Instead, he sat up. "Whoa, easy there. Easy. You been out cold a couple of days now. Why don't you just relax a second? Get your bearings." Felix looked around the room. He sat on some sort of medical table in an old wooden house. Around him were tables covered in medical tools. Across from him sat an older man. He was in considerable pain and he felt stiff, slow and sluggish. His vision was blurred around the edges and there was a slight ringing in his ears.
"Let's see what the damage is. How about your name? Can you tell me your name?" The old man asked.
His name? Felix didn't want to answer any questions. He didn't even want to speak. Speaking was difficult; he had to be aware of every word he said and let nothing slip. But he remembered being shot. He should be dead. He wasn't. Was that because of this man? If so, he deserved an answer.
"Felix." Felix answered. His voice was rough and raw; hoarse from disuse.
"Huh. Can't say it's what I'd have picked for you. But if that's your name, that's your name." The man laughed. "I'm Doc Mitchell. Welcome to Goodsprings."
A doctor? A real doctor? What the hell had Felix done to deserve such special treatment?
"Now, I hope you don't mind, but I had to go rooting around there in your noggin to pull all the bits of lead out. I take pride in my needlework, but you'd better tell me if I left anything out of place." The doctor handed Felix a mirror. Felix took it and looked at his reflection. His nearly colourless, pale blue eyes were immediately drawn to the long stitched gash on the left side of his head near his hairline. Below the gash, right near his temple was a second much smaller stitched cut.
He was shot, and in the head! How had… "You saved me?" Felix muttered without thinking first.
"Yup. After Victor dragged you in here, I set right to work. Wouldn't have even tried but you was clinging to life something fierce and built solid as an oak. I figured I'd give you a chance. No sense keeping you in bed anymore. Let's see if we can get you on your feet."
Unsteadily, Felix got to his feet. He was naked except for his boxers. Standing, he was just shorter than the doctor but was much more intimidating. Every inch of him was raw muscle but he was still lean and fast. His strength wasn't shown in how much he could lift but in how long he could hold the weight. As obvious as his muscles were, the scars he bore were more so. His back was a mess of long scars that went from just above the collar of a shirt down to his boxers. Long, vertical lines of varying width crisscrossing over each other in a grotesque pattern leaving barely an inch of skin untouched. The rest of him was also scarred but with less severity. Healed cuts, bullet holes and burns were scattered about to such an extent that he forgot where some of them came from.
"Surprised anybody'd want to tangle with you. Heck, you could go Deathclaw hunting with a switch." Doc Mitchell laughed. "Here, put this on. Never was much my style anyway." The doctor handed Felix an old vault suit and pointed out the bathroom were he could get cleaned up. Felix simply nodded and did as he was told.
In the bathroom was a barrel of clean water with a jug beside it and some towels. Felix went about cleaning the dirt, sand and blood off him. Then he went about washing the same out of his hair. As he cleaned up he made sure to keep his head wound dry. Felix had short white hair that was about two inches long. It wasn't long enough to be shaggy and just short enough to stay out of his eyes. Felix's white hair and ice blue eyes were the only things he had left from his tribe. He couldn't remember what the tribe had been called but he did remember the word for his condition; albinism. Everyone in the tribe had had it, to varying degrees. With Felix, it only affected his eye and hair colour, his skin was relatively normal, if not a little lighter then was common. You might have called him pale, if he hadn't spent his lifetime working outdoors.
When he was finished, he took a moment to examine himself in the mirror. He was ruggedly handsome, or at least that's what people told him. He had sharp features and a piercing gaze. As he looked at himself his eyes fell on his back and for a moment he turned so he could see the scars. A lot of memories came flooding back; memories of pain. He quickly looked away. When he was finished, he headed back out to Doc Mitchell; sporting the vault suit he'd been given.
"I can't pay you." Felix said when he came out of the bathroom. He knew nothing in life was free; especially kindness.
"Didn't think you'd be able to. Didn't have a thing of value on you when you was brought in and everything you was wearing is better off burned." Doc Mitchell said happily.
"Then why did you help me?"
"Call it karma. Go do a good deed for the town and we'll call it even." Felix didn't quite understand that but nodded nonetheless. He turned toward the door. "Well, if you're heading back out there, you ought to have this. They call it a Pip-Boy. I grew up in one of them vaults they made before the war. We all got one. Ain't much use to me now, but you might want such a thing, after what you been through. I know what it's like, having something taken from you."
Felix's brow drew down in contemplation as the doctor held out the wrist mounted gadget. He knew what a Pip-Boy was; at least he'd seen people with them before. He knew they were valuable but he didn't know why the doctor was giving it to him. Felix didn't have a chance to argue as Doc Mitchell took his hand and started buckling the Pip-Boy securely in place.
"Uh… what does it do?" Felix asked, looking down at the technology strapped to his left wrist. Doc Mitchell proceeded to give Felix a thorough tutorial on how to use it. Felix asked a lot of questions and more than once had the doctor repeat himself. After finally committing to memory all the hard words, Felix nodded his limited understanding.
"Oh, I almost forgot. This is yours. Was all you had on you when you was brought in. I hope you don't mind but I gave the note a look. I thought it might help me find a next of kin. But it was just something about a platinum chip." Felix reached out to take the note from the doctor. He recognized the note as his delivery contract. He had never bothered to read it before since everything was clear cut. He made a point to remember to read it later. "You should talk to Sunny Smiles before you leave town. She can help you learn to fend for yourself in the desert. She'll likely be at the saloon. I reckon some of the other folks at the saloon might be able to help you out, too. And the metal fella, Victor, who pulled you outta your grave. Anyway, you ever get hurt out there, you come right back. I'll fix you up. But try not to get killed anymore."
Felix nodded and headed out the door. He stood under the bright Mojave sun for several minutes getting his bearings and reorienting himself. He scanned the town, feeling the sand between his toes and the wind in his hair. He had nothing but a vault suit, a Pip-Boy and a note. But he had his fists and that was all a legionary needed to be ready for combat.
Felix made his way down to the saloon. The sand was hot on his bare feet but he ignored the pain, a useful skill picked up from many years in the Legion. Being up and around had helped work out some of the stiffness in him limbs but his vision was still blurry around the edges and he still felt weak. The pain in his head felt like someone was driving a metal spike into his temple but pain alone wouldn't kill him so he pressed on. Eventually he made it to the saloon and headed in.
He heard a growl from inside the saloon as his eyes adjusted to the dim lights.
"Cheyenne, stay. Don't worry; she won't bite unless I tell her to." The woman in leather armour beside the dog said. Felix couldn't help the slight smile that touched his lips. He paid no regard to the woman and merely bent down to the dog's level. The dog trotted over and put its head in his hand. Felix rubbed at the dog's ears. He'd always had a fondness for dogs. "Look at that, she likes you."
"Uh… Sunny Smiles?" Felix asked as he looked up at the woman. "Doc Mitchell said you could help me." Part of Felix wanted to scream in rage the other part of him wanted kill Sunny where she stood. A woman could be no help to a legionary, except in bed. But Felix wasn't a legionary anymore. He bit his tongue to keep himself from speaking and forced his hands to relax as he pet the dog.
"Yeah, I guess there's a thing or two I could show you. Sounds like you need all the help you can get after what they done to you. Meet me outside, behind the saloon." Sunny said happily and headed out back. Cheyenne left Felix behind to follow her master.
Felix took several deep breaths to calm down. Since he'd left the Legion he'd met many capable women, but it was still hard to look at them as the equals the NCR claimed they were. He doubted Sunny could teach him anything but he followed her anyways. He headed outside and found Sunny waiting for him. When he approached she held out a rifle to him.
"What?" Felix asked, not getting the hint she was handing over the weapon.
"Take it." She said and gently shook the gun. Felix took the gun in unskilled hands. Legionaries rarely used guns. He'd never had any training with a firearm. "You're looking mighty awkward with that gun."
"I…" Haven't fired a gun before. Haven't been trained to handle a firearm. Haven't needed a gun before. "… don't know how to use a gun."
"What?" Sunny asked in obvious surprise. Felix rolled through half a dozen excuses in his mind, all lies, before he settled on just a shrug. "How do you defend yourself?"
"Barehanded." Felix shrugged again.
"Ah. I see. Well, we'll start from scratch." And start from scratch they did. Bullets, mags, loading, aiming, firing, reloading in combat, types of guns, types of ammo and weapon modification were all discussed at length. Felix spent the rest of the day learning from a woman; something any true legionary would be disgusted by. Eventually Felix started hitting his targets.
"Well, that's a start. But I don't reckon you came to me to learn to fight sarsaparilla bottles. Tell you what. I gotta go chase geckos away from our water supply anyway. Darn critters are attracted to it. Why don't you come along?" Sunny asked in the early evening. Felix agreed. Doc Mitchell had asked him to help the town; clearing the water source seemed fit that request.
Felix followed Sunny to the source. Once there he managed to kill two geckos with the five bullets in his mag. Then he used the butt of the rifle to cave in the skulls of two more.
"Hey! You're getting the hang of it." Sunny said happily. "Grab a gecko and we'll take it back to Trudy. I'm sure she could use some fresh meat. And here are some caps for helping me out." Sunny continued and handed Felix a handful of caps. Then they headed back to the saloon together with Cheyenne leading the way.
"Uh… Th-thank you, Sunny." Felix stumbled on the words. It wasn't common for him to thank someone and he'd never thanked a woman before.
"Don't mention it. Just get that gecko to Trudy the bartender alright?"
Felix nodded and they headed into the bar. Once inside, he headed into the other room to find Trudy.
"Well, you've been causing quite a stir. Glad I finally got to meet you. Welcome to the Prospector Saloon." Trudy greeted warmly.
"Uh, Sunny asked me to give you this." Felix said, passing the gecko over the bar.
"This will make excellent gecko stew tomorrow." Trudy said as she took the gecko. "Why don't you have a seat and let me get you something to eat."
"I don't have much money." Felix said as he reached into his pocket.
"Don't you go fretting over it. Consider it thanks for bringing in dinner." Trudy headed into the back with the gecko and returned with a heaping bowl of cold stew. Felix took the bowl and spoon he was offered. He took a tentative bite and found it was quite tasty. He also discovered he was ravenous. Trying not to simply inhale the food, he ate with care so as not to make himself sick. As he ate, Trudy talked at him about all sorts of things. She talked about the NCR and the Legion; voicing her opinions that the NCR was spread too thin but had good intentions and that the Legion was a bunch of slavers, rapists, and killers who dress up like Roman soldiers. Felix stuck to eating his stew as she slandered the Legion. He'd noticed on this side of the river, Trudy's opinions about the Legion were common.
Without prompting Trudy starting talking about what happened to Felix and about the Great Khans and the man in the checkered coat. She mentioned they were headed to the Strip but would have to go east and take highway 93 north to avoid the deathclaw problem in Sloan. Felix filed away that tidbit of information.
When Trudy started talking about the problem the town was having with the Powder Gangers. Felix listened intently.
"So these, Powder Gangers are threatening the town?" Felix asked to be sure. Felix could dissuade these Powder Gangers from coming near the town if he had a machete and time but once he left they'd just come back. The town needed a reputation for being able to defend itself. Doc Mitchell had asked Felix to help the town. This should suffice. Felix would find this Ringo character in the morning.
Felix asked Sunny if there was someplace he could spend the night. Sunny pointed him toward the old schoolhouse. He bid goodnight to the folks in the saloon, trying desperately to think of the woman as equals, and headed to the general store. In the general store, he traded the vault suit and the caps he'd gotten from Sunny for a solid pair of leather boots, a pair of light cargo pants, a light coloured t-shirt, a machete, a cowboy hat and sunglasses.
The praying mantises in the schoolhouse were easily dealt with and Felix soon had a relatively safe place to spend the night. Before he settled in, Felix pulled the Mojave Express contract out of his pocket and set about reading it. What little knowledge he had of reading and writing came from his tribe. He knew the alphabet and the sounds of the letters. He knew most of the smaller words and could sound out the larger ones.
Felix read through the contract several times before he had a decent understanding of what it said. It said exactly what he'd originally been told: 'Take the platinum (a kind of metal, Felix had asked.) poker chip to the entrance to the Strip in Freeside and bring back the payment.'
Simply reading and understanding the contract took half an hour. That was one thing about the NCR Felix had always been slightly envious of; supposedly all of their soldiers could read. A simple thing but it was not required of a legionary. Felix could read a map though and quite well, so he would be able to use that feature of the Pip-Boy to its fullest extent.
Finally, Felix found a spot on the floor in the corner of the schoolhouse and tried to get some sleep. It was difficult because of the pain in his head, but sleep would bring with it a respite from the pain. So he lay, quiet and still for quite a while before he fell asleep.