Fallout: Welcome to Mojave

Chapter 11: Chapter 11: A Courier’s Work


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Bison Steve Hotel, it was just an ordinary hotel in Mojave Wasteland, or so I thought. In the base game, this hotel became the first place where the Courier tested her/his actual combat skill against humanoid enemies, suffice to say, since the NCRCF hadn’t tried to break out yet, I didn’t see any issue on try to stay in the motel yet. 

 

I opened the door to the hotel. The door led me to a lobby. It was weird, there were no barricades made from tables, or anything similar. Instead, the hotel looked as nice as he expected it to be. The tables and chairs were placed neatly and the carpet wasn’t as dirty as I thought it would be. 

 

“Hey there, young man, what can I do for you?” An old lady with white hair greeted me from behind the counter. 

 

“Mmmm,” I was thinking about what I had to say first. I didn’t recognize this lady whatsoever. “I’m looking for a place to sleep. Do you provide any for me?” I asked. 

 

“For 32 caps? Of course. I can provide it for you.”

 

“Thanks, here you go,” I gave her 32 caps, leaving me only with 354 caps left. Well, that’s almost half of my money gone now, thanks to the purchase of the shitton of bullets that I brought from Chet. Still, it would be a good investment at the end of the day. 

 

“It’s room #21, right around the corner,” she said. 

 

“Thanks, ma’am,” I replied. 

 

How to say it? The room was fairly clean in comparison to what I saw in New Vegas after the convicts took over. I headed into my room, and I unlocked the door. It was rather decent. 

 

It was a room with a window straight out to Primm. There was a clean bed with a flower sheet. There was also a television in front of it, albeit broken, probably from its age. I headed deeper into the room after I locked the door. 

 

Next to the door was another door, I opened the room. It revealed itself as a bathroom. Sadly, I doubted that the water worked in the first place, knowing that this was a post-apocalyptic world. While fidgeting around, I turned on one of the taps, and a miracle happened. 

 

“It worked???” The tap got fresh water. “Man, this is quite surprising.”

 

I put both of my hands on that cold water and splashed it right into my face. It felt refreshing, after a day of not taking a bath whatsoever. Well, no time to waste, it might be a good time to take a bath while I can. 

 

===

 

I woke up feeling refreshed, after taking a bath and sleeping on a proper bed instead of a hospital bed that Doc Mitchell owned. I left Bison Steve Hotel and headed straight into Mojave Outpost with the rifle scope inside my inventory. 

 

It shouldn’t be that kind of boring walk, but I did feel a little more anxious since I didn’t wear any armor whatsoever but my Vault 21 jumpsuit that didn’t offer any protection whatsoever. Still, I had a pistol and a rifle now, it should be enough, right?

 

I followed the route straight to the two ranger statues. The highway was filled with traders, as usual. It would be good to have a companion instead of walking alone with Mr. New Vegas blaring on my ears. I couldn’t lie, though. His music was good. 

 

Walking down the road, I noticed something, a small Gecko was approaching me. I unholstered my 9mm Pistol and aimed it at the head of the Gecko. I pulled the trigger. A bullet hit the Gecko right in the head, but it was still moving. I pulled my trigger once again, and bam, it was dead. 

 

“Poor Gecko, well, time to resume the journey,” I said as I left the dead body of the Gecko alone. 

 

I continued my journey and stumbled upon a gas station that I missed earlier. Poseidon gas station, to be precise. In front of it was an underpass that I used last time to get to Mojave Outpost. Thinking of it, there might be something interesting there. 

 

Instead of taking the underpass, I took the right direction and got to the gas station. From the underpass, I only could see the sign that clearly read Poseidon gas station. However, as I approached the gas station closer, I immediately regretted my decision. 

 

“RADSCORPIONS!” I shouted as I immediately aimed my pistol. 

 

*BANG! BANG! BANG! 

 

Three bullets hit the Radscorpion in its small head, and it splattered into disgusting green juices all over the place. Behind it was another Radscorpion, but definitely smaller than the last one. 

 

I pulled the trigger of my pistol once, and it splattered its body. I pulled it again, and it finally stopped moving. I heard a crawling sound from my right.

 

“OUCH!” A stinger from a rad scorpion stung my right hand. It felt like a thousand needles were inserted into my hand. I gritted my teeth in pain and shot the Radscorpion with the whole magazine of my pistol. 

 

*BANG! BANG! BANG! BANG! BANG!

 

The whole five bullets fired from my pistol landed at the body of the radscorpion while the rest of it landed on its head, killing it in an instant. I reloaded my pistol with the magazine that appeared on my jumpsuit pocket.

 

I held my right hand in pain, as it slowly dissipated. I controlled my breathing, and I observed my Pip-Boy to see what kind of damage I sustained. I press the [Status] button to see my whole HP and all. 

 

HP: 95%

 

Thankfully, it didn’t cause any significant damage, but I would be lying if I said that it wasn’t painful whatsoever. I could have died there, but in fact, I was pretty much fine with that much health at my disposal. I wondered though, what does 1 HP feel like? I should be really close to dying if that were the case. 

 

After trying to ignore the pain and realizing that all of the Radscorpions were gone, it might be the time to check out the general store, in case they stocked up on medicinal items because I really didn’t have one, and I doubted chugging five bottles of water would fix the problem in real life. 

 

I opened the door to the gas station, and I immediately let out the biggest sneeze I’d ever done. Let’s say, Dad’s sneezes. The dust around the store immediately flew away from me as the hard blow coming from my nose pushed them away. 

 

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Mother of all things, why did someone not find this place? Perhaps the Radscorpions? I searched and rummaged through the store. It was empty, cleaned from any form of meaningful loot. I checked on the cash register, and it was empty. 

 

The fridges were all broken without any content but broken wooden crates. I checked the cabinet, and all that was left were several bottles of Sunset Sarsaparilla drink. I grabbed six of them and put it all into my inventory. 

 

I checked the medicine cabinet, and I only found one opened bandage. I also put that in my inventory, no idea why I’d need it, considering that Stimpak would be more useful, but hey, it might work to fix my body. 

 

I got out of the gas station and finally took the climb towards Mojave Outpost just to deliver a damn scope, to be entirely honest. I got greeted by a soldier and asked what I was doing in the outpost. I replied that I had a package for Ranger Jackson.

 

“I really apologize, Ranger Jackson is in the main building,” he said. 

 

“Thank you.” I smiled back at him. 

 

I entered the main building and searched for this ‘Ranger Jackson’. I asked Major Knight about his whereabouts. 

 

“Ranger Jackson? He’s in the back.”

 

“Thanks.”

 

I headed to the deeper part of the office, and before I managed to find him, he managed to find me first. As expected from an NCR Ranger. Well, or news spread around quite radiply. 

 

“Well, well, well, isn’t this someone who is looking for me? What do you want?” A man greeted me. He looked like a cowboy with his hat alongside the bandana on his neck. He also wore black sunglasses that covered his eyes. 

 

“I have a package for you,” I said as I gave the rifle scope to him. 

 

“Ah, thanks,” he said. “Tell Mojave Express my thanks,” he smiled as he looked at the rifle scope that he had been waiting for. I was happy to see that. Still, where did he order a rifle scope, and why did he order a rifle scope if all that he was using was a mere revolver? 

 

I shouldn’t have bothered with it anyway. As long as it wasn’t a bomb, I’d be fine delivering it to the NCR, even if it meant that sooner or later I’d end up meeting with the Legion for working as an errand boy for the NCR. 

 

“Anyway, I need a little bit of ‘assistance’ regarding ‘situation’ in this outpost, can you help me?” Jackson asked. 

 

“It depends, what’s on your mind?”

 

“Follow me to my office,” Jackson said. 

 

Jackson led me into one of the rooms in Mojave Outpost and he closed the door immediately as soon as I entered it. It looked like the conversation between us would be quite secretive. His room looked like the room of an officer, with a table, a lot of metal drawers, and a picture of the current NCR president. 

 

“Please, sit down,” Jackson offered as he sat down in his office chair. 

 

I sat down in front of him, wondering what he wanted to say. I wouldn’t rent a vault dweller myself to do an errand unless the errant would be quite easy to do and it would be too much of a hassle to send a competent wastelander. 

 

“Listen, do you know the town close to here, Nipton?” Jackson asked. 

 

“Nipton?” I remembered that town. That town was grazed by the Legion by the time the Courier arrived at Mojave Wasteland. Still, what did the town look like before that? “No, sir, I don’t know about Nipton, but I did hear about the place.”

 

“Good, that place is for NCR soldiers when they are on leave. Bottom line is, that I need you to help me find something. There’s a soldier, Private Baker is his name, I want you to find him, in case he was too drunk to return for duty,” Jackson said. 

 

“Why don’t you send an NCR soldier or an MP to pick him up?” I asked, considering that the assignment had entered the realm of military business. I had no business of being involved with that kind of business with the NCR. 

 

“Well, the NCR is too far outstretched that sending an MP into the town might cause the town to enter a distrustful stance against us. So, instead, it might be a good idea to send a ‘contractor’ down the line,” Jackson said. 

 

“Will you pay me?” 

 

“There might be some ‘missing’ supplies I can spare,” he whispered. 

 

“Alright, I’m in. What is so special about this Private?” I asked. 

 

“I heard he’s a chem dealer. If you can catch him on the act, I’ll be very thankful. In fact, if you bring him back here, it’d be good,” Jackson said. 

 

“On it.” I nodded. 

 

[Quest Added: Chem’ Up]

 

[] Find Private Baker

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