Hello guys, long time no see, sorry for the delay I wanted to publish the second chapter early this January, but I had college and wanted to fix chapter one. Thanks for the reviews and PM's, here's chapter two, is a bit shorter than the first one, hope you like it, and enjoy.
(Last Edit because of grammar issues: 05/14/2023).
Prologue: The Courier.
In the void of creation, the place that surrounds everything that has ever existed; every world, every galaxy, and every universe, in this place, two entities are trying to get into an arrangement that can solve their problems and correct the balance, that is, of course, if they could first stop arguing.
"Alright." Said the older brother. "This is getting us nowhere. Listen, I respect the care you have for your creatures, but we are giving Remnant one last chance, and the only way for OUR creations to have that chance is if the balance gets fixed, and that is not going to be possible if SHE keeps on fortifying the Grimm."
"Brother, they do not deserve our help, leave them and let the old wizard handle it. We are always helping them in one way or another, we left their plane a long time ago, and they are still taking advantage of our gifts, and yet, they have not learned a thing."
The younger brother was tired of humanity and wanted his brother to comprehend it.
"Listen, if you insist on aiding them, this is not the way. I have seen humans fight until their last breath, fearless of death, destroying all their enemies, and you know how they manage to do that? It was not the hope of salvation nor the need to protect others, no, they did it because they had nothing else to lose, so maybe instead of being givers, we should be takers."
I. Need. A. Drink.
Thoughts a young man in his late twenties while removing a hatchet from the skull of one of his attackers and throwing it into the chest of a second one, who hit the ground with a loud thud and joined the other three bodies that lay on the floor.
Scratch that, I need two drinks and then some more.
The man in question is wearing some heavily patched grey jeans, a pair of black boots, a grey T-shirt beneath a ballistic vest, a brown duster, and, to top it off, a cattleman cowboy hat that partially hid a nasty scar on his forehead. Before the man's feet lay four bodies, all clad in red garments and the symbol of a golden bull adorning their armors.
The bodies present multiple wounds, from bruises caused by punches to stab wounds and broken necks.
"A…agh." One of the attackers is still alive and is crawling on the ground, trying to reach the flare gun of his fallen comrade.
No! You're not!
Picking up a spear from another body, he impales the Roman wannabe before he could get the gun and call for reinforcements.
*Panting* "You guys… *panting*… are starting to piss me off."
"Damn, you, pro…profligate." Said the attacker, exhaling his last breath.
The wastelander pulls out the spear from the man's back, picks up the flare gun, and stashes it in his coat with the rest of his weapons. He takes a moment to relax and breathe after his encounter with the group of Legion scouts.
*Panting* "Well… *sigh*… fuck."
The Courier has been dodging Legion patrols and outposts during his whole journey in Legion territory (not an easy feat, by the way, especially when you're public enemy number one), and just as he passes the border, THESE GUYS got the drop on him. Now he needs to get rid of the evidence in a way that the Legion won't suspect a thing and send more troops to search for the culprit.
I hope you assholes are burning in hell.
Going to the man with the hatchet stuck on his chest, he pulls it out and tosses it to the side. The man known as Courier Six takes his hat off, revealing his greasy black hair, and scratches his head thinking about what to do next.
Okay, so there's a riverbank not that far from here, the Lakelurks could eat them, hmm, no, the river is too close to an outpost, too risky.
He checks the map on his golden Pip-Boy, searching for other options. He has a bit of a tight schedule right now and needs to be moving ASAP if he wants to get to his destination in time.
There's a cliff to the south, Naaaah, too much of a detour. Come on! I don't have time for this! There has to be something!
Just as he's checking the map, a yellow light pops up from the machine, indicating movement near him. He takes out a silenced .22 pistol and a combat knife from his coat and turns around to face his new adversary. What he encounters is a pack of coyotes approaching him cautiously, four adults and two puppies (one with black fur, and one with grey fur).
*grow* The adults started growling while the pups stayed behind them.
"Hey! Hey! Relax, everything is okay, I just -." However, the pack ignores him and goes straight to feast on the dead bodies. "… meant to bring you food."
I guess that solves it.
It's a good thing he has always been an Animal friend. One of the little ones, the one with grey fur, tried to munch on the hand of one of the Legionaries but was promptly pushed to the side by the other pup, who had already called dibs on the arm, not wanting to lose to his brother, he head-butts him (an odd action for a coyote, but okay), and in response, his brother bites him, the greyish one lets out a squeal and runs way until he trips over the Courier's feet. After regaining his composure, the pup looks up at Six, growls at him, and bites his left boot.
"You need to learn to pick your fights, buddy."
Not long after, their mother sees them. She goes and picks up her odd child with her mouth, sits him next to the other one, and growls at both, like telling them: "You! Learn how to share! And you! Don't make a fool of yourself!"
"Ha, kids, am I right?" The wastelander says as he turns to get his duffle bag and backpack. "Anyway, enjoy the meal."
The Courier still has a long trip ahead of him. After giving his map one last check, he looks up at the skies; the sun will set in a couple of hours, if there is no other setback, he'll reach the meeting point just in time.
Almost there *Sigh* let's go.
And with a last heavy sigh, the fabled Courier of the Mojave continued his journey. A journey that made him cross half a country, and even more outstandingly, his enemy's territories; the Legion's territory.
This little trip of almost three weeks has had its fair share of ups and downs. The biggest down (in the man's opinion) was running out of alcohol mid-trip. What? Do you think that's not a priority? Try going sober with half of the shit I've been through these last couple of years, Hell! This month! And then we talk.
These recent years have been ... complicated, to say the least. It has been two and a half years since the Second Battle of Hoover Dam. The NCR (with some help) kicked the ass of Caesar's Legion and took control over Vegas and the Mojave.
Looking back on the war, picking a side was a hard choice to make, and after a much-needed debate between him and his companions (which included a punch to the face from Cass and a dangerous look from Boone for bringing up the Legion), he chose the republic.
The NCR has a lot of flaws; they are imperialists, corrupt, are stretching themselves far too thin, and have caused a lot of problems not only for their people but for the people of Nevada as well (the Powder Gangers, Bitter Springs, etc.), their whole system is flawed.
After all, "If you want to see the fate of democracies, look out the windows".
And yet, in spite of all that, they were the best option. Six had (and has) a lot of problems with them and the other players that tried to win over the Mojave. For a long time, he wanted the independence of Vegas, no gods, no masters, but the more he planned and tried to make this dream a reality, the more he knew it wasn't going to work.
To build a nation is no easy feat; carve out a frontier, built towns, protect the roads, run supplies, etc. Even with an army of robots, the Courier wouldn't be able to protect all of the Mojave from all the other factions. The NCR is inefficient, and despite that, they are the reason the Legion didn't raise hell on the land, they are the reason bandits and raiders (like the Vipers and Jackals) were at bay, their presence, and their presence alone, is the reason why the Brotherhood wasn't running around confiscating technology, you remove the Republic from the Mojave, and it becomes a completely different place (plus, he never wanted to be the leader of a nation).
That didn't mean he gave them the place on a silver plate. No, if they wanted the Mojave and its people, they had to earn it. The Republic had to play by our rules; with the help of some good people from the NCR, like Ambassador Croker, we managed to get a representative of the Mojave in the Senate in less than a year, with Keely on the head of research, we make enough food for the whole nation, and for that food to reach the rest of the country safely, they had to send more patrols to guard the roads.
As for the Courier, he helped in what he could, taking any jobs available and, if possible, going to other lands near the Mojave. His hunger for exploration (and a way to avoid paperwork) is never gone (that's not necessarily a good thing tho, *cof, cof* Sierra Madre *cof, cof*). He also helped integrate new technology from Big Mountain into the wasteland.
The Big Mt, the Think Tanks, that's how this trip started. On one of his many visits to the complex, they informed him that somehow a bunch of mercenaries found the facility while Six was away and got in. That was a problem for everybody, especially for the poor bastards.
"Let me get this straight, you caught them …" Said Six with as much patience as he could muster. "… and then you lobotomized them."
"YES" answered Doctor Klein, the leader of the Think Tanks.
"… Why?"
"WHAT TYPE OF QUESTION IS THAT?" Demanded the scientist. "THAT'S THE STANDARD PROCEDURE WHEN DEALING WITH INTRUDERS, OR HAVE YOU FORGOTTEN?"
"No, trust me, I haven't."
"THEN WHAT IS THE PROBLEM?"
"Doctor Klein, if I may." Said the only female in the room. "Maybe the teddy bear is upset because we didn't follow his orders of not abducting and lobotomizing more outsiders."
One of the many rules the Courier had to come up with so that; a) They wouldn't bring more attention to the place, and b) they wouldn't destroy the world.
"I KNOW WHAT WE DID, DALA, WHAT I WANT TO KNOW IS, WHY IS THIS A PROBLEM?"
"*Yeah, I'm going to have to give the reason to Klein here.*" Said a third voice. "*We didn't abduct them, they got in, we needed to defend ourselves.*"
" [###.!.###] ...[###.!&**!.###] !"
"*Exactly, thank you 8- wait, what did you just called me?*"
"[###.!&**!.###] "
"O, 8, ENOUGH, I AM TRYING TO COMPREHEND WHY OUR ASSOCIATE IS CLASSIFYING THIS ACTION AS A BAD THING TO DO."
"*Really?! Really? Are you guys really going to start calling me "O" again?*"
Leaving the moral aside.
"I don't have a problem with you lobotomizing the intruders, my problem is that you didn't interrogate them before doing it."
"*You all are just going to ignore me, aren't you?*"
"-Oh, but we DID-." Said the final melodramatic voice of Dr. Borous. "-With the first and second intruder, WE REMOVE THE SPINE, and uh … well, they didn't talk, so with the third and fourth intruder, WE REMOVE THE HEARTH, and they also didn't talk.-"
"*I'm taking that as a yes.*"
Deep breaths, remember deep breaths.
A group of a dozen mercenaries found Big Mountain. That's not so surprising or alarming (there's a reason why stories of the Big Empty exist in the wasteland), what is, is the fact that they eluded the defenses and entered the facility (because when that shit happens, we get ghost-infested casinos and the threat of a second nuclear holocaust).
Fortunately for us, they were caught before anything else happened. Five of them were killed during the fight, and the other seven were ... interrogated.
"-After they refused to talk, we decided that they were COMMUNIST SPIES, it was the only logical explanation, and so as good Americans, WE PROCEEDED TO LOBOTOMIZE THEM.-"
Deep breaths.
"Why didn't you guys call me when this happened?" inquired the Courier as he ran his hand over his face, rubbing his eyes.
"WE DID."
"What?"
"WE SENT A MESSAGE TO YOUR PIP-BOY, EXACTLY, 13 DAYS, 6 HOURS, 10 MINUTES AND 1 SECOND AGO."
"You did?" He quickly goes to the data section on his Pip-Boy (Misc.) and into the Messages. "Fuck, you did."
Exactly 13 days, 6 hours, 10 minutes, and 1 second ago, our wastelander was fighting a group of mobsters at New Reno, but that's a story for another time.
"Okay, that's on me, do you at least have their things?"
"YES, WE CONFISCATED THEIR EQUIPMENT AND GADGETS." As Klein informed Six, a floating table approaches them. "HERE THEY ARE."
On the table are some sets of Reinforced Combat armor, clothes, guns of high caliber, high-tech plasma weaponry, explosives, combat knives, bags with different types of ammo, some metal boxes, and some strange gadgets.
"Is this all?" The weapons are good, don't get me wrong, but it's not enough to break into one of the most protected and secret compounds of the old world.
"Not quite." Responded Dala. "A lot of their gear got destroyed during the fight, for example, five sets of power armor."
Power armor? The Brotherhood?
"What type of power armor?"
"SOME OLD RUSTED T-45 MODELS."
"Did they have any marks or symbols on them?"
"*Not on their armors, but they carried pieces of clothing that had painted with a human face with an X on its forehead.*" Responded Doctor O- sorry, Doctor Zero. "*Oh, and also, the ones we manage to catch had tattoos on their actual foreheads.*"
As Zero explained, Six grabbed one of the metal boxes that lay on the table. It was a small box that fitted perfectly in the palm of his hand, it reminded him of the ring cases he and Veronica had found in a fancy shop they raided while trying to find the "perfect dress" as the lady put it.
"What type of tattoo- oh."
Opening the box reveals a piece of skin with a black tattoo of a negative O (O-). Closing the box, he puts it back on the table and takes another one; opening it reveals another piece of skin, but this one has a different tattoo (an AB-).
(Perception check: Pass.)
"The tattoos are blood types."
Intruders with high-caliber weaponry and armor. If all their members are required to bear the same tattoo, then they are probably part of a cult or military group, maybe both.
He picks up a grey bandana from the table. The thing has the symbol of a human face with an X on its forehead.
I have no idea who these guys are.
"How far did they manage to get?"
"IN HERE."
"I meant inside Big Mountain."
"IN HERE."
"Come again?"
"THEY GOT INSIDE THE THINK TANK."
"..."
Okay, who the hell are these guys?!
One thing is to get into the perimeter of the site and another is to get into the main building of the place, which, by the way, is full of traps.
"How?!"
"According to the video fed, they used some sort of pulse emitter to disrupt the barrier and penetrate our defenses. Then, they snuck quickly and quietly thru the land, right beneath our two delicate and soft orifices (noses), if you forgive the vulgarity," Dala explained as she gets ... excited, by the retelling.
"-UNFORTUNATE FOR THEM, hahaha, one of our Protectrons saw them, ENGAGING IN A FIGHT WITH THE ALMIGHTY FORCE OF BIG MOUNTAIN! Hahaha, they were no match for us.-"
"*Oh yeah, then after that came the Vertibird.*"
"Vertibird?"
"[###.!&**!.###] ... [###.!.###] "
"I know what's a Vertibird, 8!"
He has seen some of those aircraft in action. The NCR has a couple of those stationed in different outposts, Kimball has one for his personal use, and the Remnants have one as well, but other than that, they are quite rare.
"What happen then?"
"THEY TRIED TO RETRIEVE THEIR COMRADES AND RUN AWAY, BUT BEFORE THEY COULD DO THAT, WE USE AN ARTILLERY STRIKE TO BRING DOWN THE VERTIBIRD."
"Where did it land?"
"In the X-7b 'Boom Town' target zone," informed Dala. "Any survivors of the crash were killed by Borous's dogs."
"-Oh, and my dear Gabe led the charge! He's such a good boy-"
"Did you get anything from the ship?"
"NOTHING, ANY PIECE OF INFORMATION THAT IT MAY HAVE HAD, WAS DESTROYED DURING THE CRASH."
"Wonderful."
"YES INDEED, AFTER THEIR COMRADES WERE OBLITERATED, THE REST OF THE INTRUDERS RAN TOWARDS THE THING TANK, WE THOUGHT THEY HAD REACHED A DEAD-END, AND SO, WE WERE GOING TO LET THE ROBO-SCORPIONS KILL THEM, HOWEVER, THEY OPEN THE DOORS AND GOT IN THE BUILDING."
"Here we captured and interrogated them." Dr. Dala ends the retelling.
Crap.
The Courier starts analyzing the objects on the table, inspecting them carefully and meticulously, from the weapons to the clothes. Since every other useful thing was now a pile of burning ash, he needed to find a clue here.
While checking a black jacket, he found a holodisk with a label that read; instructions.
"How did you guys missed this?"
"*Where did you get that?*" inquired O.
"From the pocket of the jacket."
"*That's how does things work?!*"
"[###.!&**!.###] "
"You had pockets on your lab coats! Agh! Never mind."
He knew very well that trying to get them to understand something so basic was a lost cause.
"Here, play it" Said while handing over the holodisk.
""HAVE YOU LOST YOUR MIND AGAIN?!" Yelled Borous."That thing may be infested with communism viruses."
That's it! Fuck the deep breaths!
"Fuck it! I'll use my Pip-Boy"
"But-"
"I'll take the risk!"
The Courier inserted the holodisk in the Pip-Boy, ignoring the warnings of communism viruses, then he goes to the Misc. section of the computer, to read the newfound documents. After some minutes of carefully reading the text, he turns around to face the Think Tanks.
"What is a "GOAC"?"
"So, let's go through this one more time." Said a blond man as he adjusts his glasses.
We cut to the scene of four men chatting in the penthouse of the Lucky 78 casino. Three of the men in question are trying to understand the fourth man's reasons for making what a lot of people would classify as a "suicide trip", while the madman who came up with the idea prepares his gear.
"Before the war started, a group of physicists, chemists, and other scientists were entrusted by the old world government and outside corporations, ranging from Vault-Tec to General Atomics, to create a machine known as the Garden Of All Creation."
"Uh-huh." Six responded as he packs more ammo into his old trusted backpack.
"They reached out to RobCo asking for help, but House himself declined the offer since he was already entangled with his own project." The ex-1st Recon shooter retells the information with his normal monotonous voice.
"That's what they told me."
"And so, out of spite, this "Doctor O" who had a huge grudge against House, convinced the rest of the big brains at the Big Empty to help the project by designing and making the operating systems and other Techno stuff for the machine." Said an old Mexican ghoul.
"They don't like the name "Big Empty", but yes, mi amigo."
"This "GOAC" only works when two data storage devices are connected, and a "Doctor Patrician Stanley" sent a highly trained group of mercenaries to recover one of the storage cards from Big Mountain." The blond man continues.
"Correct. Can you pass me those grenades, please?"
"And now you're going to travel half a country to meet this woman, pass as one of those mercenaries, and get the GOAC, a machine that, by the way, has two main capabilities; the first one was designed by a Vault-Tec scientist, and you know next to nothing of what it is ..."
"Yep."
"… And the other one is to control time."
"Yes."
"Are we forgetting something?"
"The GOAC was made with alien technology."
"This is the reason we don't let you wander alone."
Six knew this plan was a bad idea, but then again, when in the hell does he ever have good ideas? Besides, it's the only course of action he can take right now.
That meeting is his only chance to get answers. Six has been calling up a few favors, asking around his contacts to see if he could get something (anything!) about this so-called Doctor and her mercenary group, but nothing came up.
The NCR doesn't have records of a mercenary group called the Gunners, the Followers were a dead-end, merchants, tribes, and other mercenaries groups he knows didn't give him anything either, and the best answer came from Arcade and the Remnants, who confirmed that the technology these "Gunners" used was pre-war, or at least most of it.
After convincing the Think Tanks that there is no threat of communists spies, just regular intrudes and that there's no such thing as communism viruses (but then again, he explained this to a bunch of floating brains in jars, so maybe a commie virus does exist, he'll look it up in another time), they fixed and tested the strange gadgets the mercenaries used to get in.
Some of the gadgets range from but were not limited to a pulse emitter, a big bulky computer that someone in power armor had to carry, capable of disrupting the signals of the outside sensors and cameras (that's how they manage to sneak inside without raising any alarms), stealth boys, plasma cannons, and more!
The pulse emitter was almost an exact replica of the sonic emitter, but deadlier, since it looks like they implemented the design of the pulse gun as well, making it a one-hit kill against all robots and electronic devices. And according to Klein, the bulky computer was a design created by the old US government in their attempt of a mega computer capable of hiding their secret hideouts in the Asian Theater during the Sino-American war, but it never reached the production stage.
The holodisk stated that all of the high-technology equipment was provided by dear Dr. Stanley, meaning that she got (or robbed) the design from a government facility and made the computer herself, to break into highly protected facilities like Big MT.
She's hoarding technology in a way that could put the Brotherhood to shame, but why? Why is she doing this? What is her plan? Having someone with that type of knowledge and resources unchecked is just screaming for trouble. The instructions also said to meet at a settlement in the northwest outskirts of Texas called "Rojo" after the job was done.
If he had more time, Six would gladly take the long route of Sonora, and Chihuahua, however, it appears lady luck is being a little mean to him, and the meeting is in less than a month. After that, the Doctor will consider the Gunners dead and will continue on her merry way.
So now he needs to cross the land of the Legion to get in time for the meeting. It's crazy as fuck, and definitely suicidal (trust me, I know), but he needs to do this.
"Six, come on, this is insane! You can't go."
"Arcade, that woman knows how to get into Big Mountain, the goddamn! Big Mountain! It's just a matter of time before she sends more people."
The Courier has gathered three of his closest friends to entrust them with the important task of protecting and maintaining order in Big MT while he is away.
Arcade is a brilliant man that can keep up with all the crazy shit the Think Tanks can come up with, Boone can show some spine, help keep the place in order, and won't let chaos reign, and Raul is here to provide support and patience for when Arcade and Boone lose their shit.
"What did the rest thought of this plan?" Asked the pre-war ghoul.
"Weeeeeeell, Cass was a bit difficult at first, but she agrees that I must do this. Veronica wished me the least painful death possible and told me she could cover Arcade at the Mormon Fort while he's gone-."
"I haven't agreed to anything."
"Shush, you will, and lastly, Lily wished me good luck and gave me some treats for the trip."
Of course, he also considered the help of his lady friends to help out in Big MT, but each of them is dealing with their own set of issues; Veronica, as a once a member of the Brotherhood, is in constant surveillance from the NCR, they send a troop to check on her once a week (Corporal Betsy has a field day every time it's her turn).
Lily is in a delicate treatment over at Jacobstown, and the Courier doesn't want her to stop the treatment. And Cass is busy with the new and improved Cassidy Caravans (she did let Six borrow one of her new caravans for the journey, tho).
"You know you're probably going to die, right?" Stated Boone.
*sigh* "it's a possibility, yes."
"Then, don't go."
"Arcade, I don't want to go, but I have to, we both know how dangerous a person like that can be, someone must put an end to this before it starts, we have gone thru a lot, trust me, I'll be fine."
(Speech check: Pass)
The Follower stands in silence, trying to come up with the appropriate words for his friend.
"... Be careful."
"I will."
"And don't drink too much."
"I'm ... mmm ... going to miss you."
"You're sooo going to have a rotten liver in a couple of years."
And with that, Arcade hugged his friend and wished him the best, Raul did the same, while Boone just gave him a firm handshake.
"Cuidate mijo."
"Don't die."
"Take care of Rex and E-ed while I'm gone." He said while packing up his last bottle of whiskey, and picking up his backpack.
"Wait, before you go." Said Arcade. "What's the limit of things the Thing Tanks can do?
"Let them work on whatever they want, if you think something is too dangerous, try changing their minds using their logic against them."
"Dangers such as...?"
"Creating a new life form or, I don't know ... blowing up the moon, you'll be fine."
Cass is so going to kill me when I get back.
The sunset is near its end and ready to give a pass to the night. The man is tired, pissed, and, well, just done with all of this.
I mean, it wasn't my fault the caravan exploded, and I lost my alcohol!
He enters the town of Rojo, looking around the place, it seems like a nice settlement. The place was founded in the middle of a desert, so surprise attacks are a big no-no. On the far north side, there's a cliff overlooking the town with a radio station on top of it, and I think they are probably the new broadcast my pip-boy received.
"Hold."
A man in leather armor and a green duster, holding a Hunting rifle, approaches our Courier.
"Welcome to the free city of Rojo; state your business."
"Well, a good night to you too."
The man in question is near his forties; brown eyes, tanned skin, and black and white hair adorn his head and beard.
"Ha, good one, smart ass." The guard said with a light chuckle. "Sorry about that, it's just protocol."
"Yeah, I get it, don't worry." Six responds. "I'm a courier and I'm here to make a delivery."
"A bit late for that, don't you think?"
"I encountered a couple of … setbacks."
And assholes.
"Well, I see you came from Caesar's land, so I have some friendly warnings for you."
"Such as?"
"We are all merchants here, everybody is allowed to sell and buy whatever they want, from slaves to chems, so whatever ideology you have about our way of life, nobody wants to hear it."
"How do you know I come from the Legion's land?"
"There's nothing else from the way you came."
"Ah, okay, something else I need to know?"
"Don't cause any trouble, and you and me are going to be just fine."
"Hehehe, a bit cheesy, but I'll keep in mind."
Our dear Mojave resident brings up his Pip-Boy to read the instructions of Dr. Stanley.
"Anyway, could you point me to Dante's? Mister …"
"Lanius."
Six lifts his head from his Pip-Boy and stares incredulously at the man.
"You're joking."
"Yeah, Yeah, I get that all the time, listen, my parents thought that if I had a Legionary's name, they would be kinder to me if they ever took control over this part of the land."
"The Legion has ever made campaigns against this place?"
"Not this place per se, but Texas in general, although they stopped after they got their collective asses kicked in Nevada."
Good to hear.
"I do have a second name."
You could have started with that one.
"Which is ...?"
"Elijah."
Six stares at the man again, but this time, in a more amusing way.
"No offense, but your parents are the worse."
"And then, hahaha! The idiot starts running for his life with his pants down and a Radscorpion on his ass!"
"Hahaha! What the hell? Hahaha!
After an awkward name introduction, Elijah accepted to take Six to his destination. In the middle of the way there, they began a small talk that slowly became a happy and energetic retelling of drunk stories.
"Man, I needed that laugh so much, hahaha."
"You and me both, buddy."
"Well, here we are."
Informs the guard, who points at a greyish-colored building on the corner of the street, where a ghoul on top of a ladder is cleaning the sign that reads Dante's.
"What can you tell me about this place?" Asks the Mailman.
"Well, for starters, the owner is a pitiful snake that should be behind bars."
"Someone is not a fan, huh?"
"What can I say? I know that every good merchant isn'tt exactly a "clean" person, but THIS guy will get dirt to use against you the moment you step inside his saloon."
"So why go in there at all?"
"Well, there are some nice views, if you get my meaning, hahaha, just don't tell my wife."
"I won't."
"Be careful in there, there's no one you can trust."
"So, just like any other place then."
"Hehe, you can say that." Said Elijah turns around to get to work. "Anyway, my turn doesn't end until ten, good luck, son."
"Thanks, have a good one."
The hero of the NCR gives his thanks to the guard, however, he doesn't enter the place right away, instead, he stands there for a moment, contemplating his journey, he reaches out for his right pocket, brings out the storage card, and stares at it for a moment.
Just looking at it makes him feel odd, like, when he received a certain platinum chip, but this time he knows what's going on, who is he up against, what is the delivery, the dangers and risks, and yet the feeling doesn't disappear.
He shakes his head of those thoughts and proceeds to walk into the saloon, passing under the metal stairs the ghoul is using.
"You shouldn't have done that smoothskin." Said the ghoul. "It brings bad luck."
The Courier looks up to face the ghoul and raises his shoulders.
"Meh, I'll be fine, luck has messed with me enough."
"If you say so, smoothskin."
About the Gunners, I wanted to use an actual mercenary group from Fallout, rather than making one up, and after some research, they were the only ones who fit the bill perfectly. By this point in the timeline, (2 and a half years since new vegas, 2 and a half years before Fallout 4) they are already kicking around, they have the training to break into a place like the Big MT. and they have the resources to make a full trip to the west coast.
I felt like chapter one didn't have that much dialog, but it kinda reflex how the Wanderer is, an intelligent and silent person, however it did bother me a lot, so the Courier in contrast always has a snarky comment in his mind, and it's more of a talker.
I hope you guys like it, thanks for fallowing my story, Silver0117 and guest thaks for the review, and a special thanks to OldSchool-LeverShot for the help.
If you have questions, sugestions, threats of death, etc. leave a review and have good one.