Chapter 13: Chapter 13: Nipton

As I walked to Nipton, I couldn’t help but wonder who these people were. The Legion? Impossible. The Legion used red uniforms, not some mix-and-match like those previous people. My assumption? They could be one of the raiders belonging to a raider faction as far as I was aware. Well, it didn’t matter though, the loot on them was worth the danger. 

 

I finally arrived at the town sign that read “NIPTON”. The town was lively and lovely, not like when the Legion ransacked it to the ground while burning tires and all. A brahmin caravan immediately greeted me as I entered the town in leather armor. 

 

Now, to find Private Baker. NCR soldiers on leave wouldn’t even dare to wear their own uniform, so I could forget the idea of searching for a person wearing that two-headed bear armor. However, there was a thing that I wanted to think about first. 

 

First of all, ballistic seemed to work differently than what I remembered. When I worked at the clinic on the 4th of July, I noticed that people with a mere pistol wound to their legs would end up staying for quite a while. 

 

However, when I was against those people, there was more than one bullet that hit me right on both of my legs and I should be crippled. Instead, all I felt was the numbness coming out of my legs alongside the stream of blood that came out from both of my legs that eventually stopped without any exact reason. 

 

I looked at my Pip-Boy. Could this be the only reason why I didn’t bleed out that easily even though I had been shot that many times? I should have fallen unconscious from that thing, but no, I didn’t feel anything like that. 

 

The level-up also didn’t make too much sense to me. How the hell did a level-up manage to heal up my wound like that? Could it be that the Pip-Boy contained some magical power that allowed its user to heal itself once he or she had gained enough experience points? Perhaps. 

 

I laid my back on the wall of the general store in Nipton. I looked up at the sky. My life got weirder all of a sudden. At first, I really didn’t want to question too much about the logic of this world. Every one worked as usual but myself. I didn’t know whether it was a curse or it was a blessing. 

 

I shook my head, not wanting to think about that. I would figure that out later either way. Now, time to find that Private that Jackson was looking for. Why did a mere private become the attention of someone such as an NCR ranger? Maybe it was because of the fact that he was suspected of selling chems, the illegal ones that were. 

 

“Ah, new to this town, you seem to be confused,” a woman greeted me. 

 

“Yeah, I was kind of confused, can I know where can I find an NCR soldier?” I asked the woman back. 

 

“NCR soldier? You can find them around the bar,” she said. 

 

“Alright, much appreciated,” I replied. 

 

The bar? Where was the bar? For God’s sake, Nipton was nothing more than an abandoned town with burning tires and multiple crosses with all of you hanging, how should I know that? Calm down, myself. This was way before even the first battle of Hoover Dam. There might be a sign that pointed me directly right at the bar. 

 

I entered the middle of the town. In front of me was Nipton town hall. In the regular game, a person with a cap made from the head of an animal would come for me, I forgot the name, but it was someone from the Legion. 

 

It felt surreal to see the town so lively. People were walking in front of that town hall while some were trading with merchants and alike. There were also several guards holding weapons, ranging from a mere 9 mm pistol to a hunting rifle. 

 

Still, it was not enough later to defend this town against the Legion onslaught. They were merciless, with absolute obedience to Caesar. Still, Caesar and his Legion should have been still in Arizona. They wouldn’t approach the Hoover Dam at the moment. Well, that was what concerned me anyway. 

 

No matter what it looked like, they were still slavers with little to no justification following an old man following an ideology formed more than two thousand years ago. I entered the bar, it looked like just an ordinary house. 

 

However, inside, it looked just like an ordinary bar, in the way that it had a long table with a bartender serving the patrons. Still, just like I initially thought, nobody here looked like an NCR soldier from their clothing alone. They were wearing civilians clothing, which made it quite difficult to differentiate them from the local population. 

 

“Hey, kid, you lost?” Someone asked. 

 

“Not really, I’m looking for someone,” I replied. 

 

“Oh, is that so? Who’s the lucky guy?” The man asked. 

 

“Baker. I’m looking for Baker,” I said. 

 

“Oy, BAKER! You got a visitor,” the man said. 

 

A man with a very thin build approached me. Both of his eyes were red, and his eyebags were very thick. This was the usual symptom of a basic stimulant addict, confirming that he was either consuming chems or straight selling them. I doubted that this addict was selling chems, though. Chem dealers were usually a little bit smart not to consume their thing. 

 

Anyway, my job was to confirm my finding with Jackson 

 

[■] Find Private Baker 

 

[] (Optional) Find out his addiction

[] (Optional) Bribe Private Baker to go back to Mojave Outpost

[] Report to Ranger Jackson

 

Now, how to bring this piece of shit drug addict back to the outpost? I shouldn’t use force or I’d get distrusted by the whole town and the New California Republic would have to pay the price for my action. Still, with the drug condition, I could purposedly use that to make him follow me all the way to Mojave Outpost. 

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“Hi, Baker, I’m Enzo, I’m looking for you,” I said, offering my hand and smiling. 

 

“Ehh… sure thing, what are you doing here, Enzo?” He shook my hand, showing quite a good gesture for someone that I initially thought to be a deranged drug addict. Well, how should I bring him to the outpost, though? 

 

“Just looking for an old friend, isn’t that right?” I asked. 

 

“Odd… I never see you before this,” Baker said. 

 

“Ah, old mate, we go a long way back there, when we both noticed that giant Radscorpion, you saved me, am I right?” I said, flattering him and giving an awe reaction to the people surrounding the bar. 

 

However, the more I stayed here, the more I noticed that Private Baker might not be well-liked here. He might have caused ruckus once in this bar, which was quite expected from someone who had a chem addiction. 

 

I doubted that it was Psycho since the wiki description for that particular chem was not a mere stimulant, but an angry drug if we simplified its explanation. Baker here was quite calm, to be entirely honest, which made me think that he might be addicted to Jet. He was probably suffering the withdrawal effect since he seemed lethargic. Jet was a stimulant, but didn’t make you angry, supposedly. 

 

“Baker, by the way, someone is looking for you back in Outpost, want to tag along with me?” I asked. 

 

“Scram, kid, I’ll go back when I want!” Baker said. 

 

I should have known convincing a drug addict to go back to his own post would be hard. I sighed. This was the problem with New California Republic grunts, they had very low morale, basically since they were fresh recruits that were sent to the battlefield as cannon fodders. 

 

I approached Baker and whispered, “Baker, you’re addicted to Jet, aren’t you?” I asked. 

 

“You…” 

 

“Medical condition, hmm? I see. It’d be a shame if I reported this back to a particular ranger whose name started with ‘J’,” I smiled, playing with the mind of this addict who was clearly in his withdrawal phase. He would come back to his sense, sooner or later. 

 

“Man, don’t do this to me, please,” Baker said. 

 

“Then, why don’t you go back with me to the Outpost, hmm?” I asked. 

 

“Fine, only because you say so!” Baker said. 

 

“Good, that made things a tad easier.”

 

===

 

After that ordeal, in which I had to help that addict walk side-by-side to the ranger statue, I finally finished my assignment with Ranger Jackson. He felt pity for me, but he said that it needed to be done to show discipline to the others. 

 

Weird, I didn’t know which part was discipline in that regard. Anyway, I only wanted to return to get my reward, I really didn’t want to be considered to be a high-profile mercenary by NCR or the Legion. It would end me in a shallow grave faster than I could say one two three. 

 

“Reward. No, I never mentioned reward, I only mentioned that some supplies might end up missing.” 

 

Jackson picked up a rifle, NCR-issued basic combat rifle aka the Service Rifle, and put it on top of the desk. He also put five magazines filled with bullets alongside three boxes of 5.56 bullets. “Here you go. Hope you find it to be more useful than the grunts around here. That degenerate drug addict would surely miss his rifle once he became sober. By the time it happened, it would be court martial.”

 

“Dang, thanks, Ranger,” I said. 

 

“Don’t mention it.”

 

I picked up the rifle and the whole thing on top of his table. There was lots more ammunition than I initially thought, but nevertheless, it was quite a good addition to my arsenal. The Varmint Rifle had proved itself enough for me. 

 

[Service Rifle+ and 160 5.56x45 mm (FMJ) have been added to inventory]

 

[Quest Complete: Chem’ Up]

[+200 EXP]

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