Chapter Text
So things had gone pretty middling the next couple of weeks. After a retreat and a retry at the wire repair (that didn't work out). Meant that I was basically grounded until I could scrounge up enough water to get over my dehydration. Which essentially boiled down to me grabbing up any and all fabric to make a fog collector. These things were amazing, but because of the Cloud and subpar materials. They weren't anywhere near as useful as I had hoped. I was still about to scrounge up a quarter to half a liter a night from them, though. Enough not to die, but likewise not enough to operate if I wanted to not be tripping over myself from headaches and dizzy spells. Not helped by my burgeoning Mentat problem. See, I was always something of a learned morning person. For the most part, I tended to not get up until noon if I didn't have something to attend to. And even then, only if I had some caffeine to give me a kick in the pants. While Mentats weren't cola, they did help you perk up in the mornings. The downside was that they were highly addictive drugs or chems, as they're called locally. So, that's going to be a whole set of problems to solve. Assuming, of course, I make it out of here alive. You see the Courier finally showed up. And she's a Legion siding Courier. That's right 'she'. I never got the logic of a female Courier backing the Legion. It didn't make much sense to me in lore when New Vegas was a game, and it makes even less in reality.
How do I know this because she can't go through one bleeding conversation without throwing in some Latin phrase or scoffing at the use of high technology. That and she somehow managed to keep a hold of a machete gladius, aka the praetorian guard and frumentarii's machetes. Either she was an endgame Courier who had stormed the Fort and took the blade after killing everyone there. Or she was a Legion-aligned Courier who had been given the blade. The general lack of skill she had towards medicine and repairs, two vital skills made me lean towards rookie. Those skills were skills that everyone trained, if at all possible even herbal remedies or bandaging were necessary (I didn't count I was a normal Earth citizen who ended up here). Add in her personality towards tech, and yeah, Legion Courier who rushed the DLCs. She'd die here too. Just as soon as I could manage it without offing myself in the process. Was murder a bit too far? No, she was Legion and the Courier was the protagonist of the local verse'. If she was allowed to run free the NCR was doomed. House didn't have the firepower to hold Vegas against the Legion without the Platinum Chip, and that was in either The Courier's or Benny's hands. My personal feelings on whose best for Vegas aside. The Legion was generally the worst option all around. And if the Courier was allowed to rig the game for Cesear well, I'd see to it she wasn't allowed to do so.
THREE DAYS LATER,
Dean tricked the Courier into the auto-docs. Hopefully not the one with Christine's corpse. But I wasn't exactly going to go look. And she'd be getting out within another few hours. I'd mostly gotten the wires sorted in the Puesta Del Sol South. And was set up in the Switching Station, so all that was left was to wait for her to finish getting her voice changed. And get Dog/God to his post. So we were now in a 'hurry up and wait' phase to start the Gala Event. God willing that we all survived to make it into the blasted Casino proper. Why is that a question? Because of the Gala event, everything goes to hell. All the Villa's existing problems on steroids. So the plan, once the Courier got out and Domino hit the switch, was to run like hell. That was it, really.
SEVERAL HOURS LATER
RUN, RUN, RUN! I skidded around one more corner before booking it down the street. Fireworks exploded overhead, and parade music blared from speakers. A veritable horde of Ghost People dogging my steps. How close were they? I wasn't going to chance a look. The Casino entrance wasn't far now. Just another quarter block to the gate. I felt a searing pain in my leg and collapsed about a dozen yards from the open door to the Casino. A spear had found its way to the back of my knee. I quickly grabbed a stimpack from my pockets and jabbed it in while hobbling towards the door. A leap through the doorway as I feel a hand grab my still-healing leg before the bulkhead-style door drops down fast. I look down as the knockout gas starts hissing, seeing a severed Ghost hand and wrist wrapped around my calf. A shaky sigh left me as the gas took me, and my consciousness left me.
ANOTHER SEVERAL HOURS LATER
I woke up still in the lobby several hours later, head pounding and still impaled with a spear through the back of my knee. I hadn't removed the spear before injecting the stimpack, so the wound had healed around said spear.
Which of course meant that it would hurt like a motherfucker. Same token, I couldn't leave it there to slow me down in the short term and then get infected. No matter how painful it would be, it needed to be removed. I checked my supplies hoping I had a stimpack somewhere. Haha, … no, …. no I most certainly did not. So nothing for it but to grit my teeth and bear it. Oh, and have a bandage ready, but that one was kinda common sense.
Much cursing was had at the act of pulling out the spear, opening the wound once again, and then hastily bandaging it with a scrap of cloth. I'd need to disinfect and change to a proper bandage at some point to avoid the same problems. Or just find a stimpack to fix it quick, fantasy healing drugs remember? As my wound was taken care of for now, I brought the Police Pistol up and swept the room. The lobby was pretty much in the usual state of the game nothing was coming to kill me. The lights were on, which was a departure. But then I wasn't the Courier, so maybe that had something to do with it. Either way, all the doors and the elevators were unlocked and open. Not really caring about Domino or Dog/God/Doggod I went to the casino first. Why? Vending Machine Codes. Scotch, Wine, and Vodka all could be found there in the game, and I hoped it would be so now. After a lot of sprinting for the Hologram emitters with my pistol barking its full cylinder. Not my brightest moment, and my armor was now basically scrap metal at this point.
But a quick look and scavenge through the casino came up with a set of clothes in one of the suitcases. Quickly changing to a blue button-up slacks and a brown sweater vest, and quickly scrouging up enough chips to use the local vending machine. A three count of stimpacks later, and I was right as rain. More searching came up with a three-count of machine codes: Vodka, Whiskey, and Scotch were now added to the repertoire.
Going back out of the casino and still not particularly caring for Domino or Dog/God/Doggod I went to the elevators. Either the Courier would kill me or I'd kill her. Or she's just not going to be there anymore after going down to the Vault. Outside of the Courier, there were also the security holograms which would kill me if I let them. They weren't anything to scoff at; alongside the speakers, they were responsible for the majority of deaths in this DLC. This was reality now, so it might not be as potent, or it may be more. Who knows?
About an hour of sneaking about to take out the emitters later. I came upon a corpse that I didn't make. Going by the PipBoy on her arm, I was going to go out on a limb and say that this was the Courier. … What the hell?!?
The Courier was dead, given the laser burns most likely at the Holograms hands. Now what? I couldn't open the Vault without speaking in Vera's voice, and both the Courier and Christine were dead. Mission failed, but Elijah wouldn't care. He would insist I continue the heist despite the fact that there's nothing more that can be done. I was going to die up here.
The PipBoy on the Courier's arm started blaring the opening notes of John Guitar out of nowhere. Picking it up, I notice that the screen is blank outside of a blinking blocky text prompt in white smack dab in the middle of the screen. Not really knowing why I picked it up to look at it.
'Hello. How would you like to make a deal?' I snort, almost tossing the thing. 'I mean it, or would you like to die here?'. Fuck not like anything else makes any sense for the last … however long it's been since I woke up in fucking New Vegas.
“Sure, I'm willing to bargain depending on the offer?” I ask because I mean, come on I'm dead here and it's not like I've got another option than accepting an offer from whatever the hell this is.
The pipboy beeped 'I represent an organization that sends unique individuals throughout the omniverse. For the purposes of entertaining our various clients. My previous field agent has unfortunately died on her first assignment and I would like to cut my losses and offer her role to you. In exchange for the field agents' participation in whatever difficulties said world offers gain power unique to said world. So what say you?'. I chuckle “Not like I have any other options.” 'Quite' my world suddenly flashed blue and before I knew it I was traveling in a tunnel of said light. Where I'd end up I did not know.