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Chapter Text

It turns out writing an intro for your autobiography is harder than it sounds. I was originally planning to go with "War... war never changes...", but it turns out that some vault bitch from D.C used it in her shitty "survival guide", so I ended up dropping it.

Introductions first: Howdy, if you haven't read this book's cover than you probably know me by one of several different names depending on where you're from. The NCR knows me as the "Hero of Hoover Dam", the Legion knows me as "The ghost of the Mojave", fiends know me as "The Grim Reaper" and most casinos in Vegas know me "That fucking doucebag who robbed them for tens of thousands of caps". To most people however, I'm simply known as "The Courier". Of course, a reputation such as mine attracts plenty of rumors, speculation and tabloid reporters thinking that I won't try to shoot them for interfering with my private. Therefore, I'm writing this book to once and for all dispel everything, so pay attention, cause I'm only going to go through once.

My name is James Hewitt, born on February 2nd 2242 in a small village in New California to parents who are both still alive. I joined the NCRA the second I turned 16, passed through basic and then started cycling between various MOSs, both because I excelled at plenty of stuff and because all of my early COs were assholes who fucking hated me. Of course, a soldier being a rifleman, medic, sharpshooter, negotiator etc eventually attracted the attention of the Rangers. They invited me to join, and since I'm not a complete moron, I accepted. Passed through selection, got in contact with my childhood friends and told them all to suck it, and began career in the NCR Rangers. 

Over the following years I went whenever the republic needed me. Be it liberating slaves, taking out prostitution rings, snuffing out ilegal chem operations, killing everything from drugged up raiders to Brotherhood Paladins.  I was good at my job, some even considered me one of the best, and since my ego is bigger than it probably should be I chose to listen to them. Along the way I also found time to get married, have 2 daughters and travel throughout the west coast every once in a while when I was on leave. By the time my 20th year in the military rolled around the opportunity finally arrived, promotion to Veteran. Veteran Rangers- probably the face of the entire NCR military, Keepers of justice, lawbringers of New California and the greater wasteland as a whole, and I was offered to join them. Of course, I accepted, got my black armor and sequoia, called my childhood friends and told them to suck it again, and got back to work.

But of course, that's not what you're here for. You want to know about how it all went downhill. After all, a loving husband, father and loyal member of the NCR's special forces doesn't wake up one day and decides to get shot in the head. So here, I'm gonna tell to complete story, starting with that one night when everything changed...

New California-3.16.81-23:11

It was a fairly quiet night. The weather was pleasant, for an irradiated wasteland at the very least, and I was sent on a recon mission deep inside local raider territory. Acompanying me was one Derek Holloway, bright kid, recently tranfered to my station. He was a recent addition to the Rangers, being invited to join the ranks only 2 years after enlisting in '78. His family actually moved west from the Capital Wasteland back in '77, apparently they used to live on an old aircraft carrier turned settlement called Rivet City before the Brotherhood took over.

Despite having about 3 years of experience in the army qualifying for the Rangers, he was still green as a grunt fresh out of boot camp, which is why I was assigned as his "caretaker" for the mission. And so there we were, sitting on a small desert hill in the middle of bumfuck nowhere waiting for a bunch of junkies to show up.

"Hey, you awake?" Holloway spoke up.

"Yeah, everything good?" I answered, turning to him.

"Mostly." He let out a yawn "Are we absolutely sure that this is the spot?"

"According to the intel yeah." I replied adjusting the scope on the Anti-Material rifle "Jesus dude, we've only been here for about an hour and you're already falling asleep?"

Holloway yawned again "Hey, not all of us got that helmet with night vision." he said defensively.

"Oh come on. You're on your third year in the military. Seventeen more and you'll get a set of your own." I told him "Besides, you just need find ways to keep yourself occupied."

"Actually..." Holloway reached for his duffle bag. opening it and taking something out "It's why I brought the radio. Even jurry rigged to one of those satellites in orbit. Got us full coverage of the entire US. Here, you wanna try out Galaxy News Radio? Used to listen to that shit all day back in Rivet City."

"Ew, I don't wanna listen to that east coast garbage. It's all just Brotherhood propaganda or the host circlejerking that Lone Wanderer bitch." I answered "Tune in to the Shady Sands station they've got good music."

Holloway complied, and the radio began playing Dean Martin's "Ain't that a kick in the head". "So, you hear the news?"

"Which?" I asked.

"Apparently we're being deployed in the Mojave within a couple months. Peackeeping and operations against the Fiends and Legion." He answered, brushing a hand over his .357 repeater "You ever been there?"

I pondered for a second, trying to remember "I think... I think I was at the Mojave Outpost for the unification ceremony ten years ago, but we got sent back shortly after that." I answered "Lost some people I knew when the Legion attacked the dam but other than that... no not really."

"So, gonna be your first time as well? Sweet." Holloway said, fist bumping my shoulder "Can't wait to visit Vegas. Maybe find myself a nice gal along the way."

"Heh, I wouldn't get my hopes up if I were you kid." I told him.

"Huh." he turned back to me, the excitement he had vanishing from his eyes "Why's that?"

I let out a deep sigh. "Listen, you didn't hear this from me and no-one likes to talk about it, but it's the truth. We're getting our ass kicked out there. The army's stuck around the Vegas perimeter doing jackshit but sit on our ass and patrol every once in a while, and the rangers are stuck to their stations and outposts. All the while Caesar and the Fiends are doing whatever the fuck they want, the Khans supply them willy nilly and we can't do anything about it because they'll start crying 'bitter springs' all over again, the Brotherhood is hiding somewhere and most likely gearing up their tincans for an attack, that gang around the strip keeps harrasing our folks and the rest of the local population despises us."

Holloway stared at me, mouth agap. "Shit... what about those doctors?"

"The Followers? Well I have sort of a bias here. Turns out if you marry and have kids with a woman you have a more positive outlook on the group she's from." I answered "Regarding your question, no they're not big fans of us either."

"How is that even possible?"

"Politics and beurocracy mostly. Half the senate is too busy coddling up to the big wigs at the strip to pay attention to anything outside of it, and the other half are so traumatised from Bitter Springs they'd rather Caesar march all the way up to Shady Sands than let a soldier fire his gun. Other than the army's stretched incredibly thin, most outposts are either undermanned or overmanned, communication problems happen on the regular so aid and reinforcements are sent too little to places that need them or too much to places that don't. In short, it's a big old shitstorm and a massacre waiting to happen." I explained when something suddenly caught my attention "Heads up, someone's coming." I activated my helmet's low-light vision and grabbed my binoculars.

Derek looked through his own binos "Raiders, looks like we were at the right place after all."

"More than raiders. Look at the guy at the front, that's 'Dynamo'. Intel says he's the top dog raider in California. Rapist murdering piece of shit and we've got him right in our sights. " I grabbed the AMR and handed it over to Holloway "Here, take this."

"I thought this is Veteran Ranger only gear." he said.

"Yeah well, figured I could give you a chance to try it out." I answered "Think of it as just heavier hunting rifle. I'm gonna update command, you set up."

"Got it."

I stepped back for a second, activating my grabbing my radio. "Yao-Guai, this is Bravo-One-One. We've got eyes on a raider party along with an HVT, over."

A small static was heard on the other, before a reply came "Copy that One-One, standby for further orders. Yao-Guai out."

"Hey, Hewitt we've got a problem here!" Holloway suddenly called out.

"What's up?" I asked, moving back to him.

"Someone just showed up." He told me, pointing to a young woman, possibly below her 20s in a black shirt with a red scarf who talking to Dynamo "Doesn't see, like a raider or one of ours."

"Fuck." I said "Okay stay put, let's see what's going on here."

And so we did, staying where we were and watching the raiders and the unkown girl as they talked. That is until 15 minutes late Derek noticed something.

"Hey, that 'Dynamo' guy seem restless to you too?"  he asked "Looks like something's bothering him."

I took a look through my binos "Yeah I see it. Either whatever they're talking about isn't coming through or he knows something's wrong." I got on the comm once again "Yao-Guai, Bravo-One-One. HVT's getting antsy and he's not gonna be here much longer. Permsion to take him out?"

The response arrived a second later "Negative One-One, fall back and RTB. We've got a second team on standby ready to move in and apprehend the raiders."

"What?!" my heart almost stopped from shock "Yao-Guai this is a bad ide-"

"Those orders are final One-One." The comm officer on the other end said "Yao-Guai, out."

"Motherfucker." 

"So, we're pulling out?" Holloway asked, shutting down his radio in the middle of the weather forecast before he began to pack.

I scratched my forehead, trying to think of what to do, before an idea came to my mind. "Negative, ignore that order."

"Wait wha-"

"That fucker has killed too many people and I'll be damned if he gets the chance to escape." I tossed Holloway a magazine of .50 MG "We're taking the shot."

"Well I don't doubt the fact he needs to die sir." he replied, grabbing the mag "But in case you haven't noticed, there are a dozen of them and only two of us. If we take the shot they're gonna notice it, and by extension us."

"Listen, take out Dynamo's bodyguards, one's got a grenade rifle and the other's got a flamer. I'll take care of the rest. Wait for my go." I grabbed my brush gun and scaled down the hill we nested at.

I quietly snuck behind the raider group, pulling my knife. "Holloway, you in position?"

"Yep, just give the word boss."

"Alright... GO!" a loud bang rang out from behind, as one of Dynamo's bodyguards had his head blown clean off. A second later and another shot took out the second bodyguard's arm. Before the rest of the raiders could react I lunged at the one closest to me, sticking my knife in the back of his neck. Unfortunately for both me and him, at that point his firends finally understood what was going on and began firing on me. Thinking quickly, I grabbed the poor bastard and used the poor bastard as a human shield, letting him absorb the flurry of bullets. After they had finished emptying their mags into their friend, it was time for me to get to work. Throwing my human shield at one of his fellow raiders, I took my brush gun in gun in hand and shot one of them square in the chest. Pulling the lever to load another bullet, I shot another raider in the chest, as he fell to ground. One by one, four more raiders recieved a direct transfusion of .45-75 Gov't bullets into their bodies.

As soon as my rifle was empty, I turned my attention to reload it. That's when Dynamo decided to try and be funny, trying to shoot me with his lever-action shotgun. Thankfully, the fucker missed, allowing me to quickly run to cover.

"Come out here asshole! I feel like killing myself a little Ranger toda-"

I grabbed my sequoia from it's holster, aimed and pulled the trigger. Within a fraction of a second the bullet hit Dynamo's neck. He grabbed his throat, trying to stop the bleeding before he finally collapsed, dead.

Moving away from the rock I used as cover, I approached the former raider chief and shot him 3 more times just ti be sure. It was then I noticed that the unknown young woman from earlier was still around. "NCR, put your hands where I can see 'em."

"Screw you!" she replied "Get the hell away I from me!"

"C'mon sweetheart, you know better than to threaten a Ranger." I told her "Especially one who just killed a bunch of raiders on his own."

"Oh really. Do you know who my father is?" she asked "I can get to make sure you rot behind a desk for the rest of your life you fucker."

"He sure sounds charming miss. But in case you haven't noticed, both me and my partner saw you making deals with a notorious raider group. Therefore, as NCR Rangers it is our duty to detain you for questioning." I explained "Don't make this harder than it has to be."

"Go to hell!" she reached for her jacket and grabbed a 10mm pistol.

Before I could even react, a loud bang was heard behind me as a .50 cal bullet hit the would be assailant, killing her almost instantly.

"SHE DEAD?" Holloway shouted.

I raised a thumbs up "Yeah, she is. Come on let's get back to base."

Camp Howitzer-3.17.81-13:32

To say we were welcome with open arm upon returning to base would be an understatement. After people found out Derek and I just killed the number one shitbag in the area we became the talk of the town, kind of.

My current posting was a small army base by the name of Camp Howitzer. Being stationed there was actually a huge advantage for me since it was close to where I lived, being only a 30 minute walk away. Because of the small population and being relatively isolated the camp served as both the local army HQ and Ranger station. Even then it only had around 110 personnel, including the 12 Rangers- both regular and veterans.

After we were debriefed and had some rest, the mess Seargent was kind enough to organise both us and the other Rangers a little party, both becuase of last night's accomplishment and for what was to come.

"Did he really try to come at you with a goddamn lever-action?" One of the Ranger, Ackers asked me in disbelief.

"Believe me I was a dumbfounded as you are." I answered "Thing is, the idiot didn't even try to close the distance."

"Holy shit." Ackers replied drinking from his glass "These guys really are getting dumber and dumber."

"I mean it's not that impossible to imagine." Jefferson, another Veteran Ranger joined the conversation "Guys are constantly on Jet and Psycho it eventually starts to fry their brains."

"Amen to that." I raised my drink.

"So..." another Ranger, Jackson began speaking "Vegas. Can't believe we're actually going there."

"Yeah, can't wait to sit my ass in an outpost and listen to the infantry and First Recon whine all day. All the while getting shot at by Legion and the Fiends like a sitting duck." Tessa, the only female Ranger in our group finally snidely replied.

"Better than sitting on our ass looking for the Brotherhood or killing random junkies." another Ranger said, causing the entire table to laugh.

"Don't count the tin cans out just yet." Jackson said "Rumor has it they're hiding out somewhere near Hellios, waiting for the opprotunity to strike..."

"They're welcome to try then. And we'll be welcome to kick their ass back to their hidey-hole."

"Hooah!"

"Hear hear folks. We've got a long road ahead of us." Ackers said, raising his glass "To the places we'll go and the scumfucks we'll shoot."

We all raised our glasses.

"Oh, and by the way." Ackers continued after taking a sip of his drink "Five-hundred dollars or two hundred caps to the first person here who kills Caesar or one of his Leiutenants."

The door to the mess hall opened. Looking back I saw Richard Kellers, our station's lead Ranger walking towards our table. "Would you look at that. Finally got that stick out your ass and dcided to joing us boss?"

Kellers seemingly ignored my remark and pointed towards me. "Hewitt, with me to my office, now."

"O...kay..." I got up from my seat and followed him out of the room "What's going on?"

"Hell if I know." Kellers replied "All I know is that the Chief wants to see you, and that he's not exactly patient right now."

"Hold the fuck up." I grabbed his shoulder "Hanlon's here?!"

"Yeah, arrived just last night to oversee orders before the Moajve deployment."

"Shit..."

We arrived at Kellers' office, I opened the door and saw none other than Chief Hanlon sitting at the desk.

"Sir." I snapped to a salute.

"At ease Ranger." he said, not raising his eyes from the paper he was looking at "I assume you don't know why I requested you up here."

"No sir." I answered.

"Well let me tell you. What cam you tell me about your mission last night?" Hanlon asked.

"Sir, both Ranger Holloway and I gave a debrief and written a detailed report about that operation." I explained.

"I've given it a quick look. Let me tell, it takes balls to directly disobey an order like you did, takes even bigger to admit to it in a debrief." the Chief said "Command the brass may not like it, but you did the right thing, and for that I'm proud of the both you."

"Thank you sir." I replied, not even trying to hide the smirk forming on my face.

Hanlon let out a sigh, which was never a good sign "Unfortuantely that's not why I'm here. In your report you mentioned there was a young unidentified women on the scene. You you said that she was taken out after pulling a gun on you."

"That's correct sir." I nodded.

"Before Holloway shot her, did she by any chance say anything that could help us find out who she is?" Hanlon asked, though something was off about the way he did.

"She mentioned her father briefly." I answered "Other than that? No, not really."

Hanlon let out another sigh, looking down "Hewitt, do you know about 'McFarren Meat Industries'?"

"It's those Brahmin barrons from Junktown." I commented "I've heard of them but not much."

"Their CEO, Willis McFarren has a daughter, Talia." Hanlon explained "Sweet girl, nineteen and she-"

"I appreciate the gesture sir, but I'm not on the market." I pointed to my wedding ring.

"Well neither is she." Kellers chimed in "Especially considering the fact you and Holloway shot her dead last night."

The realisation hit me like an angry Bighorne. Oh shit.

"Now before you say anything, let me preface by saying you acted according to protocol. If it was up to me this thing would be solved with a formal apology and maybe some compensation for the family." Hanlon explained "But unfortunately, with McFarren's influence and the senate being jumpy after Bitter Springs, he demands there be punishments for the two of you."

"Sir, not to sound insensitive but A, Bitter Springs was three years ago. And B, it's not even fucking related." I replied, anger levels rising "Even if we ignore the fact McFarren's daughter was seemingly having a friendly buisness conversation with a group of raiders, SHE PULLED A FUCKING GUN ON ME!"

"I hate this as much as anybody James, believe me. But I have no choice in the matter." the chief said "Brass recomends you get a permanant reprimend on your record."

"And Holloway?"

"They want him kicked out the Rangers. He took the shot after all."

My heart sank, Derek didn't deserve this. "Sir that's-"

"Bullshit, I know." Hanlon finished my sentence "And I'm sorry."

Maybe it was my blood pressure, maybe it was the alcohol from 10 minutes before, but my brain came up with a stupid idea. "You know what? Fuck this. If the brass wants to kick someone out of the Rangers, make it me."

"Hewitt goddamnit, what the hell are you trying to do?!"

"Holloway took the shot, sure. But I was the one who suggested we engage, therefore, I'm the one at fault. The poor kid doesn't deserve to get his future ruined because of a a mistake I made. " I said "You want a scapegoat? Here I am!"

"Jesus christ James what are you thinking?" Kellers spoke up again.

"Giving the chief and command a choice between doing the right thing and sucking up to some dickweed farmer from Junktown." I explained "Either we solve this without punishments, I take full responsibillity for everything, or you go ahead with your current and I quit."

The office was dead silent for a moment, before Hanlon spoke up again. "You willing to put your career on the line for this kid?"

"You taught us being a Ranger is all about sacrifice." I answered "The kid's got a lot of potential, he doesn't deserve being thrown away becuase of this incident."

He frowned, clearly weighing in his option "Very well..."

New California-22.9.81-11:06

Well... my plan worked somewhat better than I expected. Instead of getting kicked out I was only suspended "until further notice", Hanlon seemingly wanted to keep me as an ace up the sleeve in his little pissing contest with Oliver. Regardless, the result was still the same: Holloway got off scot free at the cost of my career. My weapons were taken, my armor was confiscated and I was barred entry from NCR bases until my status was reversed.

A few months had passed since then, and to say that my life was going to shit would have been the understatement of the century. You see, aside from the things I've already mentioned, my suspension also included freezing my pay, and since I was still technically in the NCR, I couldn't get a full time job. That meant that as a man with a wife and children I couldn't provide for neither of them. Because of this, despite our marrige being fine at that point, my wife suggested that we file for divorce before it started deteriorating. With the promise that I would keep the house and most of my assets, along with being able to visit the girls freely, I accepted.

Despite me agreeing to it, the divorce still took it's toll on me. Naturally, as a 39 year old man, alcohol filled the hole in my heart. And so here I was, sitting in my local bar at 11 am in the morning. The bartender, a ghoul named Elias pouring me another glass of beer before he began speaking.

"You know, someone I once knew told me that a man can be judged by how early he comes to a bar."

I lifted my head up from my glass "What the hell does that have to do with anything?"

"I'm saying that you've stilll got half your half ahead of you." He said "Just because the last months have been rough doesn't mean you should start slowly killing yourself with alcohol."

"Jesus, you sound like a vault dweller."

"Low blow Hewitt..." He replied, sounding offended "Low blow..."

"Yeah well unlike you we 'smoothskins' don't get to live forever." I told him "Besides, you told me yourself I'm responsible for twenty five prescent of this bar's income. If anything you shoukd be thanking me for slowly killing myself in your bar."

"The things that come out of your mouth." Elias replied.

The bar's entrance suddenly opened, signaling that someone entered the building. I turned around to see who it was, and my day immediately became worse when I saw it was Kellers.

"Ah jeez, came here to ruin my day haven't you?" I said "Shouldn't you be in Vegas anyway?"

"Someone had to stay and watch over the station while everyone was gone." He replied, sitting on the chair next to me "How are things on your end?"

"Awful."

"Yeah, figured as much." He let out a somber sigh "If it makes you feel any better, I'd like you to know everyon in the squad's behind you. If anything it was a reminder that you aren't a complete slef-centered piece of shit."

"Ouch. Now did you come here just to subtly insult me or is there an actual purpose?" I asked.

"Well... there is actually." Kellers reached for his bag, pulling out a couple of folders.

"Wow wow wait a second. Should we... should we be talking about this here?" I asked.

"Sure, why not?" he replied "We're practically alone here and Eli knows to keep a secret."

"My ears are sealed and my mouth is shut." the ghoul answered.

"See? told you so" Kellers opened one of the folders "About a week ago intellegence picked up on a suspicious order to Mojave Express. Some high profile delivery, high amount of caps involved." he handed me a file with detalis.

I looked over the paper, trying to see if anything looked off "What's so suspicious about it?"

"Well for starters the order was for six different couriers. On it's on own not that strange." Kellers explained "However, the intresting part is the fact there was no address for the request. The only things we know about the origin of the order is that it comes from the strip and that whoever made it willing to spend a shit-ton of money on it."

"Alright, how is this related to me?" I asked, growing suspicious.

"Listen, I'll give it to you straight. We're still getting fucked out there, even with the rest of the squad stationed all across the Mojave thigs are very rough. Command is even talking about getting the guys from Baja to reinforce us." He said, looking down at the ground "Whatever this delivery is, it could either be absolutely nothing like some rich gambler ordering a bunch of sex toys, or it could change the course of the war. What we need, is someone to go undercover and find out for sure, someone not one-hundred prescent affiliated with the NCR."

"Just cut to the damn point Rich." 

"Listen, I know you currently command, the chief and most likely me as well. And that you most likely want to tell me to fuck off and go back to drinking." he let out another sigh "But the truth is, your options are either helping us with this or giving up on life and killing yourself with whiskey."

"That's what I told him." Elias suddeny interjected.

"Hell, if this mission succedes the brass might thank you enough to get you un-suspended." Kellers continued "Besides, this is Mojave Express, you've done gigs for them before in between tours."

"Thought you said they already had six couriers for the job."

He stared at me blankly for a second "Yeah, funny story actually. I sort of put your name on the waiting list in case someone cancelled and uh... someone did. Like immediately after..."

"For the love of-" I rolled my eyes, trying to supress a groan "Does Hanlon know about this?"

"Who do you think chose you?"

I took another look at the details "Fuck it, I'm in."

"Great. You'll mostly be independent of any mission command, but if you need any help regarding supplies talk to me and I'll get you some basic stuff set up." He got up from his chair and walked towards the door "Delivery's due to arrive within a week, take to some time to rest until then." and with that, he exited the bar.

"So..." Elias spoke up "You absolutely sure about this?"

"Sure." I answered "It's a chance to get my job and my life back in order. Besides, seems like a fairly straight forward delivery job."

Ooh boy, just how mistaken I was...

Chapter Text

Goodsprings Cemetery-16.10.81-21:54

"Simple delivery job", my god was I a fucking idiot. Looking back, I don't know what exactly caused me to be stupid enough to agree to the job. Maybe it was desperation to get my job back, maybe it was the alcohol, maybe a bit of both. Whatever it was, if it thought this job would be anything close to "straight forward" it was wrong beyond belief.

With Kellers' help I departed shortly after the package arrived. My orders were simple: deliver the package to the strip, identify the person/persons who ordered it, find out what the hell it's for and report my findings to the nearest NCR military installation. A couple days after departing I reached the Mojave Outpost, slipping quickly past it in order to avoid any unnecessary attention. Going up the Long 15, I took a stop near a small abondand reststop along the way to Primm in order to gather some supplies. It was there when I suddenly felt a bludgeoning pain in the back of my head. A second later my vision went dark and I collapsed on the floor.

Judging by the fact it was night by the time Ibegan to wake up I assumed I was out cold for at least a couple hours. The second my vision stablised I began looking around, trying to figure out where I was. After a couple seconds of investigation I noticed 2 things: One, I was at a graveyard and Two, there was a suspiciously freshly dug grave right next to me. Needless to say, I was starting to shit myself.

"Hey, guess who's waking up over here." I suddenly heard a voice call out. Looking up to find the source I discovered who my assailants. A group of great Khans, four in front and a fifth one digging what I assumed would be my grave to be. That wasn't the strange part, despite them trying to present themselves all high and mighty the Khans were pretty much just slightly more organised raiders, them targeting someone they assume to be a regular mailman wouldn't be out of the ordinary. The man in charge of them? That was a different story entirely. His checkered clothes were clean and fancy, his face and hands had no hint of sand or dust whatsoever, his hair was straightened and organised and he had an aura of calm profesionalism around him, a complete contrast to the drugged up idiots to his sides. Whoever this dickhole was, random acts of violance didn't seem like his forte.

"Time to cash out..." the man said, dropping the cigarette he was smoking and putting it out.

"Wow, wait a minute." I tried to plead "Listen dude, I don't know who you are and whoever your wife slept with, it sure as shit wasn't me. Just let me go and we can forget any of this ever happened, hell you might even make it to your chess club in time."

"Is that so?" he chuckled, cracking his knukcles "Appreciate the though pal, but I ain't married. Besides my buisness ain't got nothing to do with you personally."

"Oh will you get it over with?" one of the Khans spoke up, clearly losing his patience.

The checkered man simply raised a finger "Maybe Khans kill people without looking 'em in the eye. But I ain't a fink, dig?" he reached for the inside of his coat, pulling a small poker chip out.

"What the hell is that?" I asked.

"This? Heh, you might not have known but this was your package." The man replied "You've made you last delivery kid. Sorry you got twisted up in this scene." he put the chip back in his coat, instead pulling out a 9mm Hi-Power with enough engravings to give my old drill Seargent a heart attack "From where you're kneeling this must seem like a eighteen karat run of bad luck. Truth is..." he aimed the gun directly at my face "The game was rigged from the start..."

"Motherfuck-" with a blinding flash and a deafening bang, the world went dark once again.

Goodsprings-10.19.81-23:40

According to my knowledge of physics and human anatomy, it is very very rare for a man to survive getting shot point blank in the head. So, to my pleasant surprise I seemed to have been one of the few lucky ones who did. 

Upon waking up, I noticed I was in a house, laying on a bed, staring at a spinning fan on the celling.

"You're awake! How about that."

Upon hearing that I immediately tried to sit up, causing sharp aches across my body.

"Woah easy there, easy." the same voiced urged me "You've been out cold for a couple of days now. Why don't you just relax for a second, get your bearings."

"Ugh..." I grunted, looking over to the man speaking. He was old, probably in his 60s. His head was balding and he had a gray moustache above his upper lip. He was dressed in a black caravan outfit, bloodied surgeon gloves and medical equipment were sitting in a tray beside him. "I'm assume that I'm not dead..."

"I would certainly hope not, wouldn't want all my work to be for nothing."  the man joked "I'm Doc Mitchell, welcome to Goodsprings. Now if you don't mind, I'd like to know what the damage is. Let's start with your name, can you tell me you name?"

"It's... James." I answered.

"Heh, can't say that's what I'd have picked for you. But if that's your name that's your name."

I clenched waist in pain "I swear to god Doc, if my entire body didn't hurt like hell and I didn't know that you saved my life, I'd would have gotten up and beat you ass."

"Lucky me." Doc chuckled "Now I hope you don't mind but I had to go digging around in your noggin' to get all those bits of lead out. I take pride in my needle work, but you'd better tell me if I left anything out of place." he said, handing me a reflectron.

To my surprise, everything was pretty much in place. The only sign to indicate that I was even shot in the head was a small scar above my left eyebrow. For an old man living in the middle of nowhere, Doc seemed to know his craft very well.

"So... How'd I do?"

"Well... to tell you the truth I was always ugly." I answered "At least now I have an excuse for that. Other than that everything seems to be the same."

"Now ain't that just fantastic. Looks like I got most of it right, stuff that mattered anyways." He got up from his chair and lent me a hand "Come on, no sense in keeping you in bed, let's get you on your feet."

I took his hand and got up, struggling a little to stablise myself.

"You good?"

"Yeah, head's a little woozy but I don't feel like collapsing." I answered.

"Glad to hear." Doc said "Let's see if your motor skills are still in action. How about you walk over to that Vigor tester over there. Take it easy now, this ain't a race."

Slowly but surely I made my way to the vigor tester, trying to not fall over. After finishing with that, Doc and I moved over over to his living room, me sitting down on a couch and him sitting down on a chair in front of me.

"Alright, looks like your brain's in place, now let's see about your mind." he took out a sheet of paper and looked through it "I'm gonna say a word, and I want you to tell me the first thing you come up with. Dog."

"Feed." I answered.

"House."

"Target."

"Night."

"Silencer."

"Bandit."

"Shoot."

"Light."

"Flash."

"Last one." Doc looked up from the paper "Mother."

"Caretaker."

"Hmm... I wouldn't say I'm not a bit concerned by some of your answers. Then again considering the state of the world outside you're one of the saner people I've met." He put the paper back in the pile, replacing it with another one "Now I've got some statements here, I want you to tell how much they sound like something you'd say. First one is; 'conflict just ain't my nature'."

"Agree." Now, I know what you're thinking. 'James, you just spent the entire last chapter detailing how you massacred a band of raiders. How the fuck can you say that conflict isn't your nature with a straight face?'. The answer is simple: while at this point I have killed and will kill plenty more people, one of the main lessons in Ranger training is that when possible, a "diplomatic" solution was always the best option. Ammo and medical equipment are expensive after all. 'Some times the best course of action is trying conflict resolution' is an important lesson I've learned in life, both from combat operations and from my marrige.

"Okay, next one. I ain't given to relying on others to support."

"Disagree." I answered. Being in the millitary for 23 years eventually shapes you up to be a team player. The only reason I didn't say that I strongly disagreed was that throughout my career I did serve with some teammates I wouldn't have minded if they got shot.

Doc moved on to his next question "I'm always fixing to be the center of attention."

"Strongly disagree." fairly self explanatory, 'quieter than a shadow and more ferocious than a deathclaw' usually doesn;t give you many opprotunities to be social.

"I'm slow to embrace new ideas."

"Agree." don't really have a reasoning for that, assume it's a psychological problem.

"I charge in to deal with my problems head on." Doc continued.

"Strongly agree." really just a side effect of being in the military for over 20 years.

"Okay, that's enough of this." he put away the paper sheet, grabbing a set of pictures "Before we finish, I have one final test for you. I've got a couple pictures here I'm going to show you, I want you to tell me what you see in each of them. Let's start with this one."

A rorschach test, because why the hell not. I looked closely at the 'picture', trying to decipher anything other than someone accidently spilling black ink on the paper. "Looks like some sort of chemical reaction..." I said.

"Okay, how about this next one?" Doc said, switching to a second picture.

"Hmm... It's either some piece of space age technology... or a penis..." 

Despite him likely trying to hide it, I could see disappointment quickly forming up on Doc's face. "Right, last one." He switched pictures yet again.

This time I answered fairly quickly "Easy, that's two bears high-fiving."

The smile on Doc's face was now fully gone, instead he just stared at me blankly for a second before speaking up again. "Intresting answers. Regardless, that's all she wrote." He put the pictures away "I'm gonna go over the results on my own time, I don't wanna bother you with that. One last thing I want though." he grabbed yet another fucking paper "I've got a form here I want you to fill out so I can get a sense for your medical history. It's just formality, not like I expect to find out you have family history of getting shot in the head." he handed me the form and a pencil "When you're done with that, put it over on my desk along with the other stuff. After that you should take a couple hours to yourself, get some rest or maybe eat something. When you're ready, call me and I'll see you out the door."

And so I did. For the next few hours I ate and tried to get adjusted to walk in a straight line without feeling the need to fall over and/or vomit. When I felt ready, I talked to Doc and we both moved to the door.

"Before you go, I wanted to give you back some of your personal belongings." he opened a small fanny pack, handing me the 9mm pistol I took with me when leaving California, a couple of magazines, some stimpacks and strangely, a delivery note "This was on you body when you were brought to me. Figured it would help me find your next of kin, but all that was on it was stuff about some 'platinum chip'."

"Thanks." I said "Anything else?"

"Take this." Doc replied, handing me a pip-boy, that's right, an honest to god pip-boy. "I grew up in a vault, everyone had one of these back there. Nowadays I don't really have any use for it, so I figured you can take it. Might be useful for you on the road." moving on, his next 'present' was one I was considerably less excited to recieve: a vault suit. "Now, I know most wastelanders would rather die than wear a vault suit, but listen. You need to wear something if you don't want the locals to pick in you for lack of modesty, and considering you last clothes are soaked in blood..."

"Better than nothing I suppose." I said in a slightly defeated tone, putting on the suit and pip-boy "Thanks for patching me up Doc."

"I was just doing my job." he replied "You should speak to Sunny Smiles over by the Prospector Saloon. She'll 'reoriante' with firearms, should be useful for whatever it is you're planning to do next. Now, if you don't mind me asking, what are you planning to do next?"

"I'm thinking I should search for whoever it was who gave me that bullet to the skull." I answered "As far as I'm concerned I still have a delivery to make, and getting payback along the way would also be nice."

"If that's your plan then I suggest you try and speak with Victor, the metal fella." Doc told me "He's the one who dug you u-"

"Wait a second, what exactly did you mean by 'metal fella'?"

"Victor's a robot." he answered bluntly "Like the ones over at the strip."

That made me raise an eyebrow "What the fuck is a securitron doing here?"

"Hell if I know, he just showed up one day and took residence." Doc shrugged "Regardless, if anyone in town has a clue about the men who shot you, it's him."

"Thanks for the info." I replied "Suppose it's time I got out."

"Suppose it is." Doc said "Good luck out there. You ever get hurt out there, you come right back and I'll fix you up, I don't work for free though. Oh, and try not to get yourself killed, again."

"Heh, no promises Doc." I chuckled, heading towards the door.

"Gotta say, you are one very strange courier mister Hewitt."

"I'll take that as a compliment." and with that, I exited the house.

Goodsprings-10.20.81-06:01

When I got out, the sun was still just rising. Goodsprings wasn't a big town by any means, but even then it still felt deserted this early in the morning. The only other people I saw were a farmer tending to his bighorners, and a securitron strolling about. Naturally, I assumed the latter was Victor.

"Excuse me!" I approached him, I assumed he was friendly enough since I didn't hear of anyone getting shot by him. Even then I still used caution, product of my training.

The robot turned to look at me, boasting a cartoonish cowboy for it's 'face'. "Howdy pardner! Might I say you're lookin' fine as a fiddle!"

"Good to hear, I guess." tell you the truth, he kinda threw me off "Listen, I uh... I wanted thank you for getting me out of that grave first of all. And uh... you mind answering some of my questions?"

"Well of course not friend!" Victor replied, still in his overly cheerful voice "Please, ask away."

"Okay then. First of all, how exactly did you happen to find me?"

"Very simple. You see, I was out for a late night stroll when suddenly I heard a commotion over at the old bone orchard. I went over and so what looked like a bunch of bad eggs, so I laid low." he explained "Once they'd run off I went over and dug you up to see if you were still kicking. Sure enough, you were, so I took you over to the good ol' Doc."

"Uh-huh." was all I said "And those people you saw, can you tell me anything about them?"

"Not much pardner, I can only tell that they looked like trouble."

"Alright, thanks for the help." I said "See you around I guess."

"No problem pardner!" Victor said, before turning around and continuing to stroll.

I continued walking towards the saloon. Entering it, the first thing I was greeted by was a dog angrily barking at me.

"Chyenne stay!" a female voice suddenly spoke up, calming the dog down. Lookin to wherever it came from, I saw a young redheaded woman, likely in her late 20s, get up from her sit and approach me. "Don't worry, she won't bite unless I tell her to."

"Good to know." I replied "Sunny Smiles?"

"That's me." She answered "You must be the guy Doc Mitchell was talking about. Good to see you up and about."

"Thanks." I told her "Doc said you could 'reorientate' me with firearms."

"Hmm" she took a second to think "Sure, I can try that. Come on, let's go to the back of the saloon."

I followed her to the back door, exiting the saloon.

"Here, take this." she handed me a varmint rifle. Bolt action, 5.56, it wouldn't do much against a heavily armored target, but if you were a low level hunter and couldn't afford a .308, it was a decent alternative. "See those bottles lined up against the wall?  I want you to shoot at least three of the-"

Before she could finish her instructions, I aimed the rifle at one of the bottles, pulled the trigger and watched as a bullet blew it to pieces. Pulling the bolt, I rinsed and repeat for 4 more bottles until the magazine was empty. 

Sunny just stared at me with awe "Holy... where the hell did you learn to do that."

"My uh... my father was a bounty hunter. Grew up learning firearms from him..." That was a lie of course, but like I've stated before, as far as I was concerned I was still on mission. Couple that with the fact that I knew the Mojave locals weren't the biggest NCR fans around, I figured staying undercover for the time being was my best option.

"Damn, your father must have been one hell of a shot." She said "Well, I assume you're not gonna be encountering a lot of wild Sarsaparilla bottles out in the wasteland. How about you and I go gecko hunting near the well. I can throw in a couple caps for you as well."

"Sure, I'm in." I answered.

Sunny, Cheynne and I walked to the wells southeast of Goodsprings. Arriving there, we took cover behind a rock, spotting of flock of 3 geckos around the well. "Annoying little monsters, that's what they are. Nowadays it seems like Doc Mitchell treats gecko bites more than anything else. You got a shot on any of 'em?"

I looked through the varmint rifle's iron sights "Hard to say with that bush in the way, but..." pulling the trigger, a 5.56 bullet was shot out of the rifle's barrel and into a gecko's skull, splattering it's brain on the nearby cliff. Pulling the bolt, I took a shot at one of the other geckos. Unfortunately, I missed that shot, the next two shots didn't miss. With only one gecko left running, and one bullet left in the magazine, I took aim at the final gecko only for Sunny to take it out.

"Good shooting." she spoke up "Looks like that's the last of 'em."

"I take it geckos are fairly common around Goodsprings." I said.

"Pretty much." Sunny replied "Usually stroll around the area between here and Primm. On their own they're not too much of a problem, really they're only dangerous in large groups. People like me usually hunt them in order to sell their meat and hide."

"Huh, good for you miss Smiles." I patted her shoudler "Always nice to hear about an honest trade in the wasteland."

Sunny, ironically, smiled "Thanks. Come on, we should head over to the second we-"

"AHHHH!" a blood curdling scream caught both our attention.

"That came from the second well!" Sunny called out.

Without giving it a second thought, I began sprinting towards the source of the scream, eventually coming up on a group of 4 geckos attacking a young woman. As fast as I could, I raised my rifle and began shooting. The first magazine took care of 2 of the geckos, their blood covering the sand. With no time to reload, I grabbed my pistol from it's holster, emptying half of the mag into the other 2. As the last muatated bastard fell, I put the pistol back in the holster, reloaded my rifle, and rushed over to check the woman. "You alright?" I asked her.

"Yeah, I'm fine." she said, getting up "If you hadn't been here... I- I- I don't know how to thank you."

"You don't need to." I replied "I did this to save your life, not for a reward."

"Oh... still, it's only right I give you something in return. Here, take these." she gave me a couple of purified water bottles "And before you ask, I have more than plenty for myself. I should get back to town, see you around." she said, walking away.

"Heh, I take it heroism is a virtue over in the Mojave Express?" I heard a voice from behind me, turning around I saw it was Sunny.

"No, but it is a virtue of being a decent human being." I snarkly replied to her.

"Hey, I'm not complaining. Not every one out here would do such a thing." she said "Here's little spending money for helping me clear out the wells. One more thing I wanted to show, you're familiar with campfire work right?"

"The basics, never hurts to brush up though." I answered.

"Good, we'll need a couple ingrediants- a xandar root and a broc flower." she explained "There should be some up at the cemetery and around the old schoolhouse. Here, I'll mark 'em both on your pip-boy."

And with that, I was off to find some ingrediants. The broc flower was straight forward enough, the cemetry was fairly vacant save for some bloatflies and bark scorpions. Strangely enough there was a snowglobe laying near one of the graves. The xandar root was more intresting, sure enough there were plenty planted around. While picking on, I decided to take a look inside the bulding. After clearing out the local mantis, I took a look at the safe, cracking it using the terminal besides it, taking the stealth boy, super stimpack and other goodies inside.

Finally, after getting both ingrediants, I returned to Sunny over by the well. "Got what you wanted."  

"Let me see what you got." she said, looking at the stuff I brought "Yeah, these'll do just fine.  Alright now, we're gonna be making some healling powder, go on over to that campfire and give it a try."

And so I did. Of course, survival training was a big part of becoming a Ranger, and while it was one of the subject I was never good at making healling powder was the first thing we were taught. A common joke was that healling powder was the one thing you needed to know besides using a gun.

"Think I'm done." I called out to Sunny, showing her my end result.

"Hey that's not bad! See? All it takes to make a recipe is the right ingrediants and the right know-how." she remarked "Well, I hope that's enough to get you started. I'm heading back now, hope I didn't miss anything on the jukebox." she let out a small chuckle, which was kind of cute if I'm honest "Cheynne would never forgive me if I did. Hey would you do me a favour? Trudy- she's the bartender up at the saloon, kinda of the 'town mom'. She likes to me newcomers and to tell you the truth, she'd be mad as hell at me if I didn't ask you to come and say 'hi'."

"I'll head there right now." I replied "Catch you later?"

"You bet."

Goodsprings-10.20.81-09:12

By the time I had returned to the Prospector's a few things were changed. Notably, there actually people in there. Sure it wasn't packed to the brim but there several townsfolk having drinks and conversing with eachother. One such conversation caught my intrest: a man in prison uniform seemingly threatning the bartender- a middle aged woman who I assumed was Trudy.

"I'm done playing nice." the man growled "If you don't hand Ringo over soon, me and my friends are gonna burn this town to the fucking ground."

Trudy just stared him directly in the eyes. To her credit, she didn't seem the slightest bit scared. "We'll keep that in mind. Now, if you're not gonna buy something, get out!"

The man didn't say anything before he angrily walked out of the saloon, but not before the motherfucker bumped into me. "Fuck are you looking at?" was all the asshole said to me before he got out.

"Well you've been causing quite a stir." Trudy turned her attention to me "Glad I finally get to meet you. Welcome to the Prospector's Saloon."

"I see news here travels fast." I quipped.

"We're a small town, something like a man recovering from death is bound to spread quickly." she said, cleanning a glass "And also, young Katy came here about an hour ago saying you saved her life from a bunch of geckos."

"I was just helping someone in danger."

Trudy shook her head "Not a lot of people out here would help a stranger, you should be proud of yourself. Now, what can I get you?"

"Actually, I wanted to ask you some questions." I said "I belive the most pressing one is- what the hell was that argument you just had?"

Trudy looked at me for a second before letting out a deep sigh. "You might wanna grab a sit for this one, it's a long story...

Chapter Text

Goodsprings-10.20.81-9:30

"So, how long have these 'Powder Gangers' been harrasing the town?" I asked Trudy, working on her broken radio. Turns out, the dickhead at the bar was a guy named Joe Cobb, belonging to a group called the Powder Gangers. In short they were a group of convicts from the local NCR Correctional Facillity who managed a succesful revolt and drove the military out. That much I already knew, it was all over the news when it happened. What I didn't know was just how big it truly was. It seems that the Gangers set themselves up as a local mob, patrolling the area surrounding the NCRCF and praying on local traders, caravans and seemingly towns such as Goodsprings.

"They've been here for about a week now. Ever since Ringo arrived." she answered. From what she told me, Ringo was a trader with the Crimson Caravan who had a run-in with the Powder Gangers and has been taking shelter in Goodsprings ever since, hence the 'burn this town into the fucking ground' threat.

"If Joe Cobb troubles you so much, why not get a couple people together, find where he is and... you know..." I suggested.

"You mean we should murder him?" she looked at me in shock "That's not our way. Even if Cobb is scum he can bluster and threaten all he wants. Besides, there are a hell of a lot more Powder Gangers than us. If they found out we killed one of their friends, they'll come here to take revenge in force."

I thought for a second for any alternatives, when an idea popped in my head. "Say, what if I helped Ringo take on Cobb myself?"

Trudy looked at me again "And why the hell would you do that?"

"I'm from California. Those asshole not only pose a danger to our trade routes, they also waste army resources that could be used against the Legion." I explained "Besides, if Ringo arrived here a week ago he might have information on the guys who shot me."

"You got me. Ringo's holed up in the old gas station." she said "Be careful, he's armed and he's jumpy."

"I'll keep that in mind." I replied, putting her radio down and turning it on "Fixed you radio by the way."

"Well I'll be damned... thought I'd have to go and get a new one." she handed me a bag full of caps "Here, take this as a reward."

"Only fifty caps? Trudy, are you implying I did a shoddy job?" I sneakly faked insult.

"Know what? Here, consider this a bonus for helping out with the wells." she gave me another bag of 25 caps "Now if you'll excuse me, I have some catching up to do with Mister New Vegas."

"I saw his station pop up on my pip-boy. He any good?"

"Good? That man has the power to get any woman going." she answered, didn't exactly convince me considering the fact I was a dude "He also has reuglar news segments every couple songs." that seemed more up my alley.

"I'll check him out then. See you later Trudy." And with that, I got out the saloon.

Goodsprings-10.20.81-9:39

The gas station seemed deserted, a Sarsparilla vending machine being the only thing that functioned within the premises. Approaching the entrance and opening the door, I had a hand hovering near my holster in case I needed to pull out my pistol, which seemed to be right away as the first thing I saw inside was a guy pointing a gun at me.

"That's close enough." the man said, clearly on edge "Who are you, and what do you want with me?"

Normally in this situation I would have gone for one of 2 options: Either I would have just killed the man on the spot or disarm him in case he was needed alive. But, considering his caravan clothes, and the lack of blood to indicate they weren't originally his, I figured this was the man I was looking for. "Relax, I'm not here to kill you."

"Yeah? And why should I trust you?"

"Because if I was you'd be dead before the door opened." I replied.

The man narrowed his eyes, staring at me for a second. "Hmm, fair enough..." he holstered his pistol "I'm Ringo, with the Crimson Caravan."

"James Hewitt, NC-" I stopped myself "Mojave Express."

"Hey wait a minute, you're that courier who was shot in the head a couple days ago." Ringo said "Heh, didn't think you'd actually make it."

"Courtesy of the town doctor." I remarked "Heard about you pedicament, I'm here to help."

"And why would you do that?" he asked "You have no reason to want to help me."

"You're right." I told him "But I have even less reasons to like Joe Cobb. Besides, you pulled this town into your shit, you're going to help me get them out of it."

Ringo looked down, thinking. "Fine, not like I have anything else to do. Right now my only options are to either wait here until the Powder Gangers find me, or try and escape to Vegas ands be killed by deathclaws."

That last part caused me to raise an eyebrow "The I-Fifteen is overrun by deathclaws?"

"Yeah, for a couple months now." Ringo replied "Anyways, if we're gonna take on Joe Cobb we're gonna need help."

"Who'd you have in mind?" I asked.

"We should speak with Sunny to begin with. She's got the most experience with a gun, and she's the most opposed to Cobb and his group."

"I'll go to her right now." I said, heading to the door "Stay here until I come back."

Getting out of the gas station, I spotted Sunny on her way to the Prospetor's with Cheynne. Moving towards her, I called out "Hey, Sunny!"

That caused her to turn her attention to me. "Hey! Didn't know I'd see you again so soon."

"Yeah, need to ask you something." I told her "Heard about your Powder Ganger problem. Ringo said you might be able to hel-"

"Say no more, I'm in."

Her response caught me off-guard "Oh... that was easy..."

"Joe Cobb talks about leaving us alone if we hand Ringo over, but I know better than to believe him." she explained "He and his friends will eventually come back to attack us."

"Okay, so you're on board." I said "Any idea who else may be willing to help us?"

"Hmm..." she hummed in thought "If you can convince Trudy to help she may be able to bring more people to the fight. Chet, he's the owner of the shop, might give out some supplies. Doc Mitchell may be able to supply us with medical equipment. Finally there's Easy Pete, he might give us some of his explosives."

"Okay so, Trudy, Chet, Doc and Pete." I repeated "Got it, I'll talk to them right away."

"Good luck."

First up was Trudy, serving drinks as I returned to the saloon, she looked at me and began speaking "So, how'd it go with Ringo?"

"I've got good news and bad news." I answered "Good news is that we have something resembling a plan, and Sunny's on board with it. Bad news is that she says we're going to need you with us."

Barely a second after I finished that sentence, Trudy was violently shaking her head. "No, no, absolutely fucking not. Sunny's my friend, but if she thinks I'm gonna risk the saloon, the town or anyone's lives for a random trader who got in trouble, she's dead wrong."

Most people would take that as a definitive answer. I'm not most people, I'm a persistant little shit. "Listen, I understand you concern, but hear me out. If we do this during nightfall and hide out by the back of the saloon we could ambush the Gangers, take 'em by surprise. Besides, I have a feeling the story of a small town defending itself from a group of bandits will do wonders for trade..."

Trudy's mouth twitched a little, yet she still didn't relent "I don't know, the risk is still too much."

"Okay, let's look at your other options then." I said, changing my tone to a more passive agressive one "You can either sell a caravaneer who, mind you is an NCR citizen to a bunch of fuigitives, or wait until said fugitives attack the town. Your choice really..."

Trudy waited a moment before finally letting out a sigh of defeat. "Fine, I'll a couple people to help against Cobb. You're lucky you're a charming man Hewitt."

I wouldn't exactly use the word "charming". Back when I just finished Ranger selection our psych evaluater described me as intellegent, resourceful, adapatable, unorthodox, lethal and presuasive. The last one wasn't originaly in the evaluation, he added it later after I convinced to read it to me.

Next up was Chet, which was also a good idea to stock up on ammo and supplies.

Entering the store, I saw him over by the cash register, looking at the counter. Noticing me, he lifted his head up ."Oh, hey there. You must be the new guy right? the one who was shot in the head?"

"Yep." I answered "Recovered thanks to your doctor."

"Heh, I knew Mitch was good at his job but damn..." he said "Anyway, I assume here to talk buisness I assume. What'll it be? You here to buy or sell?"

"Actually, I wanted to talk to you about something. A few of us are planning to take on the local Powder Ganger group, the ones who have been harrasing the town." I explained "I was wondering if you could hand us out some supplies."

"Hah! You're joking right?" he began laughing "Sorry man, this ain't a charity. I have a buisness to run and if I start giving out stuff for free I'll go bankrupt."

Once again it was up to my silver tounge to do the magic "Okay then, good luck running your buisness if the Powder Gangers take over..." I turned around and started heading towards the door.

"Wha- Hey! Wait!" bingo... "Look I was joking, I didn't realise it was actually that serious."

With a shit eating smirk on my face, I turned around to him "Well then... buisness shall we?"

Chet sighed "I'll see what I can give you guys. In the mean time, take this." He reached down below the counter, getting back up with a folded leather armor "Can't have you potentially fighting for the future of Goodsprings in an old vault suit."

I won't lie, despite only wearing the vault suit for less than 3 hours, I felt overwhelmingly relived to take it off and replace it with actual armor. It wasn't my old Ranger armor, but it was my best current option. Afterwards I spent a couple more minutes with Chet buying ammo for my varmint rifle, Hi-Power as well as a silenced .22, because it was on sale.

Next up was Doc Mitchell. That one was relatively easy. He ended giving me a couple more stimpacks, as well as Doctor's Bags after I told him we would be facing off against guys with dynamite. The final guy on my list was Easy Pete, an old former prospector hanging out by the entrance of the saloon. After speaking with him for a bit, I finally popped the question of whether or not he'll let us use his dynamite.

"Before I agree, let me ask you somethin'." he said "I need you to promise you know for sure how to use this stuff."

Thinking for a second, I answered "Sure, light the fuse, throw the stick and watch the enemy go boom."

Pete gave me a disapproving stare in response. "Ah-ah, I don't think so. Blow yourself up, blow your friends up, blow the town up, but you sure as hell ain't gonna use my goddamn dynamite for it." in my defence, explosives were never my forte during service.

After I finished getting rejected by East Pete, I returned to Ringo and Sunny at the gas station. After finishing to finalize our plan, we got out to start prepping.

Goodsprings-10.20.81-19:14

Finishing preparations, we took positions by the back of the saloon, awaiting the Powder Gangers' arrival. Besides the 3 of us, Trudy managed to gather a group of 5 people to join the group. Sunny volunteered herself to be on lookout.

With the sun setting down, and Cobb still not showing his face, I decided to take the opportunity and ask Trudy a question. "Say Trudy, if the Gangers have been harrasing towns and caravans for the last couple months, has the NCR ever stepped in to do something?"

"Heh, you'd think." she chuckled "No they didn't, as far as I'm aware at least. We've thought of sending someone to speak with them, but the only outpost close is near Primm, and that's in the middle of Powder Ganger territory. They don't have patrols around here either."

"Well... that sucks."

"Maybe, but frankly if you ask me it's better this way." she replied "The last thing we need is the Republic's greedy hands taxing us to hell and beyond. No offense of course."

"None taken." I assured her "Besides, I'm an NCR citizen. We know more than anyone else that it isn't perfect."

She let out another chuckle "Heh, true. Though if it makes you feel any better, I still consider the NCR a thousand times better than the Legion."

I raised an eyebrow "Gee, my government is better than a pack of murdering slavers? What a compliment!"

This time Trudy let out a proper laugh "You got me there."

Our conversation was cut short when Sunny came rushing towards us. "Look alive people, we've got Gangers approaching."

"How many?" I asked her.

"Six, Joe Cobb included." she replied, taking position beside me "They've got pistols, melee weapons and dynamite."

I checked my varmint rifle's magazine, before taking aim at the approaching Gangers. "Okay, here's what we're gonna do. Each pair of us is gonna focus on one Ganger, that way we can take out most of them quickly. Target the ones with explosives and firearmes first."

"Got it." Sunny responded.

"Everyone ready?" I was met with a group of nods "Okay, on my signal. Three, two, one... FIRE!"

Loud bangs were heard as we started shooting. Within our first volley we managed to take out two of the Powder Gangers, most importantly, the one with dynamite.

Their friends tried returning firing back, but thanks to our numerical advantage, those attempts were in vain. The fighting was over almost as soon as it began. When the dust settled, the ground was covered in blood and Powder Ganger bodies, except for one. Joe Cobb had managed to avoid being directly killed, only being fatally injured. Pulling my gun out of it's holster, I slowly approached him, wanting to see if he had any last words.

"You..." he groaned, clutching his bloodied abdomen trying to reach for a revolver "Motherfucker... do you have any idea what you just did?!"

"Saved a town from a bunch of lowlife scumbags, that's what." I answered, looking him directly in the eyes.

He let out a maniacal laugh "Hah! A real saviour aren't you? Listen here bitch, go ahead, shoot me! Whatever you do it won't change the fact that you just signed your own fucking death warra-"

He never finished that sentence. At that point I put a 9mm round into his brain.

With the matter settled, we went on cleaning the damage. I spent a couple minutes looting the Gangers' weapons and ammo, also grabbing a Powder Ganger outfit, for the off chance I ever need it.

Shortly afterwards, I was approached by Ringo. "Well, wasn't that intense huh?" he said, sounding grateful "I don't know how to begin thanking you."

I shook my head "Please, I did it to help the people here. I wasn't looking to get a reward."

"I see. Regardless I need to give you something for practically saving my life. Here, take this." he handed me a bag of 100 caps "It's the most I can pay you at the moment."

"Thanks." I replied.

It was at that moment that Trudy approached us. "Well well well, if it ain't the guy we just and the town's new hero."

That put a small smile on my face "Anyone got hit during the fight?"

"Jackson got hit in the shoulder, he's being sent of to Doc Mitchell right now. Other than we're all good, seems your plan worked flawlessly." she answered "By the way, we're going to the Prospector's to celebrate, you guys comin'?"

"Nah, I have to go. If I don't make it back eventually my boss is gonna kill me herself."  Ringo told her, before turning to me "Hey, if you're ever around the Crimson Caravan be sure to pop in and say hello."

"I'll try to remember that." I replied "Good luck Ringo."

He smirked, giving me a nod before heading off into the darkness.

"So..." Trudy spoke up again "Drinks?"

That caused me to chuckle "Trudy, you needn't even ask..."

Goodsprings-10.20.81-20:30

To say spirits were after the fight would be an understatement. A fair few townsfolk, even ones outside of our little group crowded the Prospector's to celebrate the victory over Cobb. Shit, there were even talks about forming an actual militia in case the Powder Gangers ever think about returning.

"So, I hear you're planning to go after the guys who shot you." Trudy said, refilling my glass with beer for the 3rd time.

"That's the plan." I answered.

"Should probably inform that they were here for a short while." She said.

"Really? Shit..."

"They were here that night. Said they just finishing some 'buisness', which I assume meant you." she explained "Their leader, he was a real asshole. Acted like he was above everyone. Judging by his clothing and style I assume he's one of those upper class folk from Vegas. Must have had some big stake in the matter to come all the way out here."

"Yeah I assumed as much..." I said "Did they say anything about where they went?"

"Not much. I did hear the main guy say he was going to pay the other ones once they reached the strip." Trudy answered "If they did go there, they probably took the Nintey-five, went through Primm. That's the safest route to Vegas these days."

"Yeah, Ringo told me so. Is the I-Fifteen really overrun with deathclaws?"

"That's what I heard. Haven't been brave enough to find out for myself." she said "Anyways, if you're trying to track these guys down, Primm's you next stop."

"Gotcha." I replied, taking a sip from my glass "I'll head there first thing in the morning."

"Before you do that." Trudy spoke again "I believe you have some loose ends to tie up."

That caused me to raise an eyebrow "What do you mean?" 

"Well... seems like Sunny's grown fond of you, if you catch my drift..." She said, winking.

That sentence hit me like a fucking truck. "Ah geez..." I scratched my forehead "Listen, I like Sunny, and I do think she's very pretty. But I don't think now's the right for to start a new relationship and all."

"You should tell her that yourself. And James-" she grabbed my arm "Careful, cause if you hurt her I'm gonna make that bullet in your skull feel like a bloatfly sting compared to what I'll do to you."

"Noted." I laughed, somewhat nervously, before moving to Sunny's table, sitting in front of her.

"Well well well, if it isn't the hero of Goodsprings!" Sunny exclaimed, her overly gigglish tone a sign she was drunk off her ass.

"Hey now, don't sell yourself short." I tried cheering her "You did just as much as me out there."

"Brave, handsome and humble?! You are one unsual courier James." she chuckled "Say, why don't you and I go back to my place and you show me some of your, ehem, other qualities?"

With a deep breath, I looked her in the eyes "Listen Sunny, I don't think that's a good idea."

Her eyes went wide in shock. "W-w-why not?"

"Well for starters, you're drunk, and 'take advantage of a drunk woman' isn't exactly on my bucket list." I explained "And secondly, I don't think this is the right time for me to jump into a realtionship again, especially not when I'm leaving tommorow."

"It doesn't have to be extensive you know. It can just be a one-and-done." she reasoned, sounding as if she was trying to convince herself more than me.

I shook my head, taking her hand in mine. "You don't even believe that yourself do you?" I asked, to which she simply looked down "Listen, Sunny you're smart, strong and independent, you deserve a guy who can spend time with you, and that's just something that I can't do right. You understand?"

She let out a defeated sigh "I guess..."

"Good. Now, just because we're not gonna sleep with eachother, doesn't mean we can't share drinks together." I raised my glass, turning to Trudy "Hey, Trudy, think you can give us some more rounds?"

"Again?!" she screamed in shock "Jesus, I swear to god if one of you pukes in my bar I'm gonna kill you both!"

Sunny's, well, smile returned to her face, and she burst out laughing "That's why we sat near a window!"

Goodsprings-10.21.81-08:23

Fortunately, no one threw up, inside the bar or out the window. Once everyone dispersed from the Saloon, Trudy allowed me to sleep there. When the morning arrived, it was time for me to leave for Primm.

After doing another round of supply buying at Chet's, I began walking to the edge of town, Sunny volunteering to see me out.

"So, guess this is goodbye for the time being..." she spoke up "You headed for Primm?"

"That's right. Trudy says that's where the assholes who shot me most likely went." I answered.

She looked at me for a second, before suddenly rushing to me and pressing her lips to mine. After she pulled away, I stared at her with wide eyes. "The hell was that for?"

"For good luck." she answered, with a smile that caused me to reconsider her last night offer for a moment "Stay safe out there James."

"Heh, no promises there Miss Smiles."

With a soft giggle, she turned back towards the town, before she started walking away.

As Sunny walked away, I took one last look at Goodsprings. Looking down at my pip-boy, I tuned to Radio New Vegas, which was currently playing Bing Crosby's 'Something's Gotta Give'. And with that, I turned towards the wasts, and headed out into the great unknown of the Mojave...