It all started when I was at my job with the Crimson Caravan company, a company of couriers that did jobs all over the wasteland. A representative from the lucky 38 casino came into my office. He was a pristine looking fellow wearing a top hat and a clean cut tuxedo. He spoke to me

“We have heard you are one of the best couriers the wastes have to offer, we need to have you do a job for the Lucky 38, and more importantly, a personal need for Mr. House himself.”

Now, this is important. Mr. House is not a man to be messed with. He built the infamous strip, and is considered the owner. If I were to decline the proposed job, I most likely would be killed by the end of the day.

I told the representative, “The job sounds interesting, what are the specifications and who is involved?”

“All you need to do is deliver a package. Nothing more, nothing else. The address will be given to you with the package. Let me warn you that the less you know about this, the better for your safety.”

This made me curious, and excited. Jobs like this were why I joined the business. You could call me a curious cat. Something inside of me couldn't help myself when it came to the unknown.

“I’m in. When will I start this job?” I asked the messenger, who by the way I had no idea what his name was.

“Now”

Arriving to the package’s location, I noticed how hidden it was. Hidden in plain sight. The package was under an abandoned car near our company. The package was small, and was wrapped in brown paper. The first rule learned in this business was to never unwrap an artifact, especially if it was not asked by whomever gave you the job in the first place. Attached to the object was a small note, that read

“Deliver package to a power plant south of Camp Golf, called helios one. You will know who to give it once you arrive. Do not take any detours, go straight there. Follow the main road and get off near the El Dorado Gas Station.”

Easy enough. There had been much tougher jobs given to me throughout my experience as a courier. The road was due east of my current location, so I made my way to start my quest into the wastes.

The road made my travels easy and direct. Some jobs required peak physical condition and maneuvering around tough terrain, all while delivering the package under a certain time limit. It made for a good story, and one heck of a challenge. I hadn't ever been to the El Dorado Gas Station, but other couriers in the Crimson Company had. From what they told me, it was a abandoned gas station and mechanic garage, with a big sign that was once lit up in better times.

One of my favorite things to do while walking was to let my mind wander about anything. I thought of my childhood in the vault a lot. Especially how it ended. How it got so wrong and skewed. I don't remember much, the two factions, the debate, and the fallout. Let me remind you that the vaults were underground shelters designed to keep the human race from going extinct when the bombs were first dropped. They had many rooms and could hold a few hundred people, easy. My grandfather was a politician, and that is how my family got access, while the rest of the world periled. He was a middle aged man, and my father was a child. My grandfather was “The Overseer” and his role was to lead, and keep peace. When he died, chaos slowly crept in. The vault was a mock democracy when my grandfather was in charge, and some of the dwellers did not like the system. After his passing, certain members vocalized their opinions on how things should be run. They believed that everyone was equal, and profits should be shared with all in unison, as a group. They called themselves “The Marxist”, and caused problems in the vault with the others who liked the old vault, the way things were run when my grandfather was overseer. The ones who weren't considered Marxist created their own faction and called themselves “The Capitalists” This lead to a lot of fights, which eventually lead to a formal debate that both leaders of the factions had set. A meeting between the two groups, unarmed, and open to discussion in an attempt to save their home and safety. At first, it was civil. Both factions agreed to disagree, and peace was kept. That was until a mysterious stranger couldn't control his emotions, and drew his revolver, threatening to use it if his terms were not met. This sparked outrage, which turned into a slaughter. Many were killed, and the ones that weren't turned into killers of the other group. Eventually one group overpowered the other, and the others were forced to leave the vault, and into the wastes.

Walking up to the station I knew something was going on. There was blood outside the station that was still warm from the body it came from as well as footprints. I was anxious. I knew I needed to go inside to complete the job, and I knew what was inside may cost me my life. I entered in through the back and found 5 armed men waiting for me. One of them was wearing the ugliest suit I have ever seen. It was checkered with red accents, and was very obnoxious.  He then asked me

“Do you have it?”

To this remark I claimed

“What do you mean?”

He then pointed his weapon at me and I knew the time for messing around was over. I then handed over what I was delivering. I then made a notion towards the door.

“Stop there. They did not tell you about this part of the job.”

He then raised his weapon, and pulled the trigger.

Everything went black. I could feel my soul being sucked from my body, wanting to escape. In a strange way, I let it happen. I realized that the wastes wouldn't miss me, and I knew whatever was going to happen would be better than my life here… I felt at peace. But if you haven't noticed, life can be unexpected. Most wouldn't survive from a gunshot to the head. I did. I woke up a few days later, my left eye swollen shut. The bullet grazed my temple and I am sure the doctors would have told me it was centimeters from killing me. I think the nearest doctor was in Novac, about 50 miles away, so I made the assessment myself.  I wrapped my head, searched the gas station for anything I could find. A water bottle about half full and a western looking hat with a singed brim. I put it on, knowing I had a long walk ahead of me to Novac.

I first encountered Sunny while walking into the super-mart near Novac. He first looked shy, but approachable. He was one of the only people there, and I wondered what he was looking for in the super-mart. I went up to him to ask him if he knew where the man with the checkered suit was. I noticed his rusty boots, that were worn from the intense desert heat. The soles looked like they had traveled many miles to his destination, here. I wondered what events had led him to this God-forsaken place.

When I mentioned the checkered suit, his eyes lit up. He knew who I was speaking of. He was reluctant to tell me, as if he was hiding something. I could tell he was scared. His face made him seem timid, but something told me that he wasn’t. He was a tall man, and had the build of a bull. He had shoulders that looked hard to fit into a doorway, with hands that reminded me of my baseball glove as a kid. His weathered jeans looked to be bursting at the seams holding his thighs inside. He reminded me of a perfect specimen for the game of football, the best thing to watch before the great war. I had never seen it, but my grandfather had talked about it extensively before his passing. He talked of mountainous men, running at each other as fast as they could.

I couldn't tell if he didn't want to tell me about my assailant, or had trouble remembering. I could tell he wasn't the sharpest tool in the shed. Things like his body language, and his demeanor lacked confidence. I slowly revealed what I could recall of the mysterious checkered suit man. It seemed that Sunny slowly opened up, as if I was reminding him of his interaction, or he was uncomfortable in my presence. I had to choose my words carefully, to not warn him off. I had not experienced to many others like him in my travels in the wastes, so I had to be careful. I decided to change the flow of the interaction, and ask him how he had got there. He seemed to shut down when I asked him this. He mentioned growing up west of the mojave, in a small settlement. By the context of his language, I could tell it was a rough upbringing. I decided to open up about my hardships in the past, to try to connect with him to acquire the knowledge I seeked. He seemed to lighten up a bit, especially when I mentioned what the checkered suit man had done. He seemed like he wanted to help. He told me he had passed through a few weeks with a small pack of rough looking folk, looking for supplies. He then proceeded to tell me that he passed through a few days ago in a rush, looking for something frantically. I asked Sunny if he had any idea where our friend was headed, and he said he didn't mention anything, but he had dropped a Tops Casino Card. I had a strange feeling this was where he was headed, and asked to see the card. It was an ace of spades, but nothing special. Least not on the front. I flipped it over and read the words “see you there” painted on the back, with what looked like blood. I knew this was where he was headed, and quick grabbed my pack and got ready to go. Just as I was leaving the super-mart, Sunny opened up to me. He told me how he felt as if he had no worth in the wastes, his days washing away like sand on a beach. He told me he seeked aventure. I told him that I could use a hand on my quest to find the mysterious attacker, and would love for him to tag along. Sunny was ecstatic, and happy I asked him. He grabbed his belongings, and we were off.

Due to info Sunny and I had learned from the folks in Novac, we knew that our target was on the strip. We knew he had many assets near the area, and we were on our toes. We couldn’t trust anyone. The goal was to figure out why he shot me, and if the reason didn’t please me, to kill him. I knew that wouldn’t do any good, but I also knew that I would have a hard time controlling myself. That was a side of me I could not control.

Heading to the strip was a process. We needed to have at least 2,000 caps to spend in order to get in. They didn’t want just anyone using the luxuries of the strip. Somewhere I had heard that the strip resembled a pre-war haven. I had heard that it resembled a place of great fortune, and people from all around the world traveled there to acquire wealth. It was one of the only places to survive the war, nearly unscaved. I had never been to the strip, but had heard of its glory from the rest of the wastes.

To get to the mouth of the strip, you had to get through freeside. This was a slum that covered the outside of the strip, filled with raiders, fiends, and plenty of problems. I knew we had to stay focused on the task of acquiring the caps, and my luck was feeling high, so my first move was to go to the casino wannabe, the Atomic Wrangler. Walking into the joint, I received plenty of weird looks. I realized I was out of place. I was an outsider. Sunny Felt it too. All we needed was caps. 2,000 of them. The best game to aquire currency was black jack, a simple card game with decent odds. The thing was, each casino had their own laws. If caught cheating at the atomic wrangler, you would be crucified, and a incision would be made slightly below the belly button, slowly letting your intestines fall to the earth below you.

After acquiring the caps, we headed to the gate. There was a large line, so we had time to make sure we were ready and had everything. The bright lights of the strip were so close. A better life was coming, along with the man in the checkered suit. I needed to know why he wanted me. Why was he hired to get me? There was only one way to find out. Sunny grabbed my arm suddenly and exclaimed,“We are short 6 caps! What will we do?”

We had been waiting in line for a few hours, and it closed soon. We couldn’t wait till tomorrow, because with every passing moment we risked our target escaping. Racking my brain, I couldn’t think of what to do. We were next to be inspected, and we needed caps fast. We heard shouting from the securitron guards ahead and a person waiting. The man was short and stocky. He looked like a boxer, and had scars on his face. He had dark complexion and was wearing mostly black. He wasn’t a type to lose a argument, especially about how many caps he had. He told them he had the cap counter in the middle of freeside make sure he had enough. They told him to come back tomorrow and asked for the next in line, which was us. The man drew a weapon, and opened fire on the bots. While they were fighting, we saw our chance. We were able to slip past the other guards while they were distracted. Just before entering the gate, I looked back to see the securiton guards decapitate the assailant. Blood went everywhere, and sprayed all over the gate. We shut the door quickly and made our way out.

You could infer where we were going directly. The Tops Casino. We were going to confront this guy. We had to be quick, in case people noticed us. The casino was right outside the gate, directly to the left. We hustled over and walked in. A guard of the establishment confronted us and told us to turn over our weapons. I handed over my irons, but I had a stealth pistol. The one thing the Crimson Caravan Company did was keep us well stocked on hardware, especially guns. Keeping this weapon, I knew I had an advantage over the rest of the common folk in the Casino. Looking for our man we started in the poker room. We did not see him, but the place was crawling with money hungry hustlers. We decided to try the more exclusive areas, first the VIP cocktail lounge. To our benefit, we found him. He was a snobby looking man, bossing people around left and right. He had guards all around him, and I shouted at him

“Hey, do you remember me?”

He looked around and spotted me and his expression changed dramatically. It looked like he just watched a baby get dropped.

“Looks like I didn't finish the job. I am impressed you made it all this way. Come, sit with me. Lets talk”

I took up his invitation and sat at the bar. I ordered a drink, and got right down to business.

“Why did you shoot me? Who wanted my head?”

He looked guilty. “I didn't want to shoot an innocent man. I was ordered by a man to shoot you to acquire your shipment, and leave no witnesses. I only did this because he had access to my fortune of clean water.”

Now to the average person you are probably wondering why water is so valuable. Remember that half bottle of water I found at the gas station? That had serious value to it, and I could have sold it for about 50 caps. I can buy a shirt for 5. I believed the man.

“Can we go get this guy? It’s time for him to meet his maker.” I shot to him. His face softened, and said

“He’s already gone son. Someone already got him. There were others like you on this mission, and someone got him. There were other packages being delivered, but yours controlled the water supply of the mojave. You held the key to millions. Our employer told me that if I captured the other packages, killed the couriers, and brought back the other shipments I could keep the key to the water supply. He stole it from me in one of my purifying plants not too long ago and held it over my head. I felt like a dog.”

This made me furious. I didn’t know what to do. I held my head in sorrow and payed the bartender for the drink. I slowly walked to the door and wondered what I would do. The Company always told their employees that their protection on the job was the main priority. This clearly had been disobeyed. I knew I couldn't go back there. Nearing the door someone shouted

“Tell you what. I hear you are good at this whole delivery deal. I need a courier. The pay isn’t great but I’d offer you a roof over your head and 3 square meals a day. You in?”

I didn’t need to answer. I was all in.