Part 3: Saddle Up

The sunlight blinded me slightly as I walked out of the doctor's, closing the door. I held my left arm, the one with the over glorified screen-on-a-glove, and noticed a flashing light. I flipped through until I came to a Radio tab, with five broadcasts available for listening, Radio New Vegas, and four others that made no sense. One said Sierra Madre, another Happy Trails Caravan, Midnight Showing at Mojave Drive-In? The last, Mysterious Broadcast, was arguably the most confusing. Those four were all irritating, so I flipped it to Radio New Vegas, hear what Mr. New Vegas had to say, listen to some Strip music. I also noticed a Notes, Quests, and Map tabs. Shrugging, I flipped through them, then switched to the middle light, which showed my weapons, apparel, aid, ammo, and other stuff. I was glad that my weapons, which had taken a while to get, were there, and my leather armor was there, my light metal armor, all there. I pulled my Broad Machete, placing it on my belt on the left hip of my Leather armor, and holstered my Weathered 10mm on the right. I flipped to the first light, which was a bunch of status tabs. Flipping to the second light and staying there, I looked up to see a metal box on a wheel roll by. Must be Victor, might as well thank him for not leaving me to die by headshot.

"Howdy Partner! See you're doing a lot better that when I pulled you outta that hole in the ground!" The robot was a Securitron Mk II design, some piece of Old World tech that House guy I was supposed to deliver that package-a fucking poker chip-to, dug up somewhere. Supposed to have an army of those things, how he keep New Vegas like a goddamned fortress. With neon fucking everywhere. Word on the street is if the NCR, New California Republic, lost their hold on the Mojave by House the New Vegas Embassy was fucked three thousand times over. But they've got a common interest as of now-Hoover Dam, the giant hydroelectric power plant out east. Word is whoever wins the upcoming battle there changes the fate of the Mojave, for NCR, Legion, or Vegas's interests. While I just rambled through that, I remember finishing the conversation and leaving for the Prospector Saloon, like the Doc had wanted me to. Passed a general store, not that I could buy much. I had a pittance in caps, and while Pre-War cash was a one-to-one exchange, actual sales and purchases were caps in the Mojave. NCR was printing their own dollars, and the Legion had coins, but everywhere else? Caps, caps, caps. The first people that emerged from the vaults supposedly picked them up and found value, until the NCR began it's money crusade, but the diehard capsters had moved east, into the Mojave. Money that wasn't caps had no real value. I walked onto the porch of the saloon, past some ruined motorbikes, remnants of pre-war civ, past a worn down fella, nodded, and entered the saloon.

I was immediately hit with the smell of booze, homestyle kind of place. I was also hit by barking from a large dog. Normally, dogs like me and have a good time. We have no problems. This one was obviously someone's.

"Cheyenne! Enough." A voice cut through my second ramble of the day, provided by a redhead in leather armor. "Howdy. You must be the new face in Goodsprings. I'm Sunny Smiles."

"Hey. Doc Mitchell said I should come see you." I replied. "Is Smiles really your last name?" Whoops.

"Yeah, it is." She must have noticed it slipped out, because she added, "Someone's asked at some point. Now, let's go out back for target practice." She led me outside to a hill where Cheyenne was already sat, handing me a Varmint Rifle, chambered in 5.56mm.

"Alright, aim at those empty sarsaparilla bottles there on the fence, and shoot at em." I raised the rifle up, noting it's age and disrepair, before squeezing a shot at the row of bottles. I brushed one, but it tipped nonetheless.

"Good. Aim down the sight." Sunny instructed, and I dutifully obeyed, striking a second bottle on the neck. "Now try crouching." Doing so, the third bottle was a square hit to the faded label.

"Alright, you're pretty good with that rifle." Sunny said, looking down at me where I crouched, reloading the rifle. I stood as I worked the bolt.

"Comes with being a courier. Protect the package, your paycheck, and yourself." I responded. I preferred my 10mm, but I'd take the 5.56, if only to not piss Sunny off. Slinging it across my shoulder blade with a strap attached to the stock and barrel, I checked my ammo store in it's own pack pocket.

"Think you can help me with a problem? There've been geckos hanging around our water source, and I need to clear them. You can get some practice in on non-bottle enemies." Sunny offered. Eh, why not. I liked Goodsprings, good small-town vibe.

"Sure." I said, following Sunny as we walked around the Prospector and down the road out of Goodsprings. As we walked, Sunny asked me about where I'd been.

"Hmmmm…. I mostly worked in the New California Republic." I said, rubbing my chin as I called up old memories. "Started heading east around 14, when I got tired of working for the barons. I lived and worked out of the Divide until I hit 20, when I delivered a package from NCR at Navarro and figured I should leave. I wandered until I was at Primm, signed up for delivering a package to the Strip, and got shot in the head." I shook my head. "My past isn't as exciting as it sounds." I shot a glance, noting her expression. Probably had to do with the Divide. I heard something had happened there, and people spoke about it like it was evil when I'd headed to Vegas. I'd never really followed up, I might at Primm, though. We stopped behind a rock near the water source.

"Hear that up on the ridge? Geckos. Nasty little monsters. Doc Mitchell probably deals with bites more than anything." Sunny mentioned, as we started creeping around the rocks. "Let's try and get the drop on them." Both of us crept around the rock, rifles in hand, as we spotted two of the things. Pulling the rifle up to aim down the sight, I squeezed off a shot, hitting one in the neck and downing it in a spray of blood. I swung my rifle over to the other, only to see it keel over, bullets lodged in it's belly.

"Good shooting." I complemented Sunny as we walked over to the well. She wasn't too bad for a local in this backwater town, probably because all the hotshots from the NCR weren't there to ask if I wanted to see their 'gun'.

They never ask more than once. A punch to it definitely helps that. As I mused over that, I picked up a shovel that had been leaning on a pipe. Never know when you'd need it.

"You aren't half bad yourself. There's a few more down the hill. You in?"

"Am I walking off?" I retorted, moving in that direction. I spotted a third gecko, firing a shot into it's skull. Two bullets left.

"Goddamnit!" Me and Sunny exchanged looks. That wasn't us. We quickly jogged to the cliff, where we saw the last two geckos attacking a Goodsprings resident. She was bleeding from multiple bite wounds, attempting to fend them off with a knife. Acting quickly, I aimed at one, Sunny at the other, and we fired at the same time. Two geckos fell over, bullets in the back of their necks. I slid down the cliff, moving over to the girl we'd just saved.

"Hey. You doing alright?"

"Thanks for that. I came down here to draw some water. Here, take what I got." She said as I wrapped her bites. I frowned. Two cans of pure water.

"No. Keep them. You need them more than I do." I said, fishing out my Vault 13 flask. I'd done a job up to Arroyo when I still worked in the NCR, and I'd picked it up on said job. The thing literally never ran out of water, however that worked, meaning I had water for a long time. "Go to Doc Mitchell. He'll patch you up." I sent the girl on her way.

"I swear, they never listen when I say not to go down there…" Sunny said. "Anything else?"

"No, I think I'm good." I said. "Unless there were any cap-making opportunities around here?"

"Hmmm…. Trudy'd be cross if I didn't direct you to talk with her. She likes to talk with everyone who passes through. There is a safe in the schoolhouse none of us can open, not even Easy Pete and dynamite, if you're up for scavenging and you're good with a bobby pin and screwdriver." Sunny handed me three pins and a magazine on lockpicking.

"For the safe right? Thanks. I think I'll see Trudy first." I said. "See you around." I headed off for Goodsprings.

The Rant

I finally got back to writing! With Fallout New Vegas, not Project RWBY. Whatever. So, I got Fallout 4 last month and had so much fun, I remembered I had New Vegas. I played New Vegas, and remembered this. Now (with an extra dose of fanfiction reading) I've returned to Courier's Road with plenty of ideas for the future! For Auld Lang Syne! Praise be to Sawyer! Oda never forgets! Peace!