War. War never changes.
When atomic fire consumed the earth, those who survived did so in great, underground vaults. When they opened, their inhabitants set out across ruins of the old world to build new societies, establishing villages, forming tribes.
As decades passed, what had been the American southwest united beneath the flag of the New California Republic, dedicated to old-world values of democracy and the rule of law.
As the Republic grew, so did its needs.
Scouts spread east, seeking territory and wealth, in the dry and merciless expanse of the Mojave desert.
They returned with tales of a city untouched by the warheads that had scorched the rest of the world, and a great wall spanning the Colorado River.
The NCR mobilized its army and sent it east to occupy the Hoover Dam, and restore it to working condition.
But across the Colorado, another society had arisen under a different flag. A vast army of slaves, forged from the conquest of 86 tribes: Caesar's Legion.
Five years have passed since the Republic held Hoover Dam - just barely - against the Legion's onslaught.
The Legion did not retreat.
Across the river, it gathered strength. Campfires burned, training drums beat.
Last year, On the 21st of November, 2281, The New California Republic reigned victorious against the Legion once again with the help of the Boomers, Great Khans, and Brotherhood Of Steel, driving them back across the Colorado and into Arizona. Caesar is said to have been killed by a brain tumor, but no one is certain.
Through it all, the New Vegas Strip has stayed open for business under the control of its mysterious overseer, Mr. House.
And his army of rehabilitated tribals and police robots.
A month after the second battle of Hoover Dam, the NCR lead an assassination attempt on Mr. House, who faked his death upon The Courier warning him of the NCR's intent to take him out the first time.
Upon the hit squad's failure, House made a proposition. The NCR would be given Vault 21 and 5 securitrons to remove the cement and conduct repairs, allowing more living space on the strip, and possible potential to expand the tunnels using the aforementioned securitrons under the condition that Mr. House would regain control of and recall them if any tampering was done, while the securitrons would follow orders within the parameters of "Remove concrete", "Help me with something", giving a securitron a nickname, and "Extend tunnels". The NCR having to provide materials for any expansion underground.
This proposal was relayed to General Lee Oliver, who begrudgingly accepted.
When asked about the Vault being repaired by former Vault 21 resident Doc Mitchell over ham radio, House responded with "You thought I couldn't take out the concrete? You underestimate me."
You are a courier, gone by the nickname of Courier Six, or just Six. You have an apartment on The Strip, the Lucky 38's High Roller Suite. Mr. House was nice enough to let you keep using the suite and cocktail lounge as compensation for delivering items such as spare parts and collectibles. You think of it as a form of paying the rent.
You may be thinking, "What makes this more than just any post-alternate-ending fanfiction of Fallout: New Vegas?"
Keep reading and you will find out.
Due to its nature, this story will take a more transcript-like approach to dialog.