A/N: Hey everyone! I was to apologize for being gone so long. A lot has been going on, and my life is finally starting to feel normal again. And what better way to start off the new year then with a new fic! I got back into New Vegas, and I came up with this story. I hope you enjoy the journey my courier Dragon goes on. And for anybody wondering, I am still going to finish Dragon's Game.
"It'll be okay."
"You made you're last delivery, kid."
"No it won't!" They're all dead! We need to do it, now!"
"I'm sorry you got twisted up in this scene."
"Listen to me. Our home, our families... they're gone. But you, you're here. You are my treasure, and our legacy.. I love you, Dragon."
"From where you're kneeling, it must look like a 24 karat run of bad luck."
"What are you do- No!"
"Truth is... the game was rigged from the start."
Dragon's eyes opened, and her vision was met with blur that hurt her head.
"Well, you're finally wake."
Dragon slowly blinked until her vision cleared. She slowly turned her head, wincing as pain stung her neck and head. An older man with white, balding hair sat in a chair by the bed she was stretched out on.
"Where ... where am I?" She strained out.
"Goodsprings."
"Who.. who are.. you?"
"Doc Mitchell. Do you remember what happened?"
Dragon thought, her head hurting. Some guys... one in a checkered suit, and a decorative 9mm pointed straight at her head. She relayed it to the doctor.
"You got shot in the head with that fancy gun. Been out cold a couple days. You might have difficulty remembering things, and getting things out. Can you tell me your name?"
'I love you, Dragon.'
"Dragon. I.. I'm Dragon."
"Interesting name." Mitchell said.
"It's not... I'm... It's the only name... I remember." Dragon strained out.
"I see. It's something to call you, at least. I want you to slowly sit up. Take it nice and easy."
Dragon tried to sit up, groaning in pain. She carefully pushed herself up, head spinning and vision blurring. She managed to put her legs to the floor to be in a sitting position, closing her eyes, and taking deep breathes.
"There there." Mitchell said, placing a hand on her shoulder.
It was then that she realized she was just in her under garments. "Where are.. my clothes?"
"I had to take them off you to check for other wounds, and clean off the blood and dirt. So, I had to go rooting around in you're noggin to get out the lead. I take pride in my needle work, but you should check if everything looks right to you."
He handed her a reflective device. She looked at herself. She was Caucasian. with a bit of a tan. Her eyes were blue, and her hair was an icier shade of blue. It was in a messy braid. Three scars surrounded her left eye, and one cut across her right cheek, ending near her lips.
There was also one coming down from her hairline. The center was a bit sunken in, with the rest taking a sort of star shape, the 'limbs' awkwardly stretched out. It looked fresh. Probably where the bullet hit and Mitchell had to remove it.
"I'm afraid that new scar is going to be hanging around." Mitchell said.
Dragon shrugged. "It'll have some company, apparently. I... don't remember getting these.." She traced her fingers across the other scars.
"Like I said, you might have difficulty remembering things. In time, your memory should recover. Now, I want you to try and stand up, slowly."
Dragon gripped the bed tightly, and slowly stood up. Her vision blurred, and she stumbled. Mitchell caught her. "Easy there, I got you."
Dragon gripped Mitchell's shoulders and shut her eyes. She took a few more deep breathes, and opened her eyes. "I'm okay. I'm okay."
"Okay. I want you to walk with me to the other end of the room, okay? Nice and slow like before."
Dragon held on to Mitchell, and he helped her move to the other side of the room. Each step was slow and unsteady, and her head hurt the whole time. When they got to the other side, Dragon let go of Mitchell and leaned on the wall, panting.
"That was very good, especially after what you went through. I want you to try walking to the couch over here on you're own. Can you do that?"
Dragon nodded. "I think so."
She made her way to the couch. She let out a sigh as she sat, her body aching. Mitchell sat on a chair across from the couch.
"Alright, I'm going to ask you a few questions. Do you remember anything from before you were shot?"
"I... I was sleeping, and there was a noise. It woke me, then.. I can't remember."
"You said there was a man in a checkered suit. Did you recognize him?"
Dragon shook her head. "No."
"What about the men with him?"
Dragon thought for a minute. "They didn't seem as... well off as him. Their outfits were... leather based, and crudely armoured with... bone, I think."
"Sounds like the Great Khans. One of the tribes in the Mohave area." Mitchell said. "You're attempted assassin though... fancy gun and suit. Sounds like a New Vegas type to me."
"What... what would a city boy and a bunch of tribals want with me?"
"I was hoping you could shed some light on an for me."
Mitchell went to the corner of the room, and brought some stuff over to the couch. It was a bag, a 10mm pistol, a shotgun, and dark leather armour with scaled plating over the chest, back, shoulders, right forearm, legs, and the top of some boots, as well as some basic clothes, and a old pre-war hat.
"They didn't take any of your things, except your caps. Victor found you bag not far from the cemetery."
"Victor?"
"He's the one who found you. He's a robot."
"A robot saved me?"
"Yep. He's been here for about... 15 years or so. Real friendly. He dug you up and brought you to me a few nights ago. Aside from this armour and these two guns, you had some food, water, ammo, and this."
Mitchell handed Dragon a slip of paper. It was a Mohave Express delivery order. Number six. The order was to deliver a large poker chip made of platinum.
Dragon vaguely recalled some details about the order. The Mohave Express was in Primm, She hadn't actually been there. She was contacted through someone connected to the delivery order. She couldn't remember who though.
"I want to give you this vault suit, and these clothes. They were my wife's, and you're about her size. And the hat you was wearing didn't survive the shooting as well as you did, so you can gave this one. And, I want to give you this."
Mitchell held out a small computerized device, and helped Dragon put it on her left forearm.
"It's a Pip-Boy. We got them in the vault me and my wife grew up in. It has a built in flashlight, keeps track of all the stuff you carry, it can check your vitals, show injuries, and has a built in geiger counter and check your radiation levels, has a map of the Mohave area, can play audio holotapes, and tune in to radio stations."
"Cool." Dragon said, looking at the Pip-Boy. "Thank you, Doc."
"It's the least I can do. I also put some medical supplies and some caps in your bag. Now, you should get out there and ask around town, get some more information on your attackers."
"Thank you."
Dragon got dressed in the clothes and the boots, slipping her armour and pistol into her backpack. She strapped the shotgun to her back, and put the hat on her head, then made her way to the door. She took a deep breath, then opened the door to Goodsprings.