» Fri May 13, 2011 1:12 pm _________________________________________________________________________________________________
Chapter 1
The wind whipped sand through the air like little razor blades, ready to give a the hairiest of men a close shave they wouldn't forget. A lone rangers brown trench coat blends almost seamlessly into the airborne earth around it providing the perfect camouflage that any veteran ranger of the Mojave would prefer. The enhanced-vision technology in the helmet of the lone ranger glowed a gloomy red in the brown around them. The enhanced-vision was no use to him in the storm but through experience the ranger had learned to leave the system on since sandstorms can subside as fast as they start. Visibility was reduced to feet. If there were any known threats in the area they, and the ranger could nearly brush shoulders and not realize how close they came to one another.
Ordinarily rangers love sand storms as they provide almost complete concealment but they are only an exploitable advantage if the ranger knew the area he was in. This however, was not the case for this particular ranger. He walked as if he had no where to go but straight. Probably because in a sand storm that is about all you can do. The sand in the air became thinner. Thinner. Thinner. Down to almost nothing. The ranger had reached ground that became more solid and littered with shrubbery. He looked back at the storm, stationary but fluid and constantly shifting. The sand never seemed to rest, but never left the valley.
Static noise came over the rangers headset. As he walked farther from the hidden valley the frequency became more clear, and eventually audible.
"Charlie station to Lima Romeo Two, check in. Over." the headset chirped with static noise after the voice. The call repeated, and repeated. The ranger flipped his radio receiver off. He looked to the south. On the horizon was the NCR correctional facility.
It took almost a year, but the prison was reclaimed by the NCR, but the Powder Gangers were still around, hiding out in the hills. They didn't have much choice since the NCR put a 500 NCR Dollar bounty on any body, dead or alive, sporting the Powder Ganger wardrobe. Problem with that was now all the Powder Gangers couldn't show their faces anywhere semi-civilized and resorted to demeaning themselves to nothing more than petty raider scum. Even the Khans came Powder hunting in the first few weeks of bounty becoming active.
The ranger looked west, into the setting sun. His helmets EVT [enhanced-vision technology] shaded the suns rays. The ranger marched on towards the hills hanging a few meters off the road down a slight decline in the landscape that ran alongside the road. The ranger marched a few hours into the night before reaching the top of a hill with a monument, a cross. He could see a town through his binoculars, maybe two miles from him.
"Goodsprings..." the ranger mumbled. He descended from the memorial hill and noticed a shack near the bottom. The door was crudely locked with chain and a bolt, both severely rusted. To gain entrance, the ranger gave the door a stern kick just next to the improvised lock. The chain broke and the shack door flung open, rebounding off the wall and nearly closed itself. A noticeable boot-print was left in the sheet metal of the door. The ranger raised his 9mm Pistol aiming down the sights peering into the shack. With his EVT set to low light sensitivity he could see into the shack as if it was illuminated from the inside.He entered the doorway sweeping the gun left, then to the right. The shack was empty. Re-holstering his pistol in his thigh holster, the range closed the door.
The NCR are present in the Mojave but far from controlling it. The only real property they have seized would be Hoover Dam, however due to one Courier-Turned-Leader of the free Mojave, New Vegas didn't need power from the dam because HELIOS one gathered more than enough energy to power Vegas. That is not to say the NCR haven't tried to reroute power from the solar array, but thanks to Mr. Fantastic they were no where near capable of stealing the power. Since Vegas is independent and the new CEO is willing to expand, rebuild and help tribes and settlements, almost everyone is loyal to him. In all fairness even the NCR should be but thankful the President doesn't think so, and his life was even saved by the Courier.
In the midst of the night, the ranger peeled off him Black Armor wrapped them in a blanket. he grabbed a dirt shirt from his bag. He kept the trench coat out and put it on for warmth. In the morning, he stuffed the wrapped armor into his bag and set off for Goodsprings. If he had shown up decked out in ranger attire, he wouldn't exactly be welcomed with open arms.
He approached the town from the east. The saloon was the first building he could see, and his first stop. His boots made a loud clunk on the wooden porch. An old man in a chair glanced up at the stranger and nodded, in a 'how-do-you-do' manor. The stranger replied with a nod, and entered the Saloon.
