» Thu Jun 14, 2012 6:18 am The Legend of the Courier
Quick Background: The Courier; with a kind heart, steady aim, and a skilled tongue brought Mojave under the rule of the NCR. Though many were against taxes and imposed rule, most settled into government-funded protection and transportation. As for the Courier, he disappeared from the Mojave and into legend. The year is 2301 and the west is still being settled for the second time.
The train made a loud grinding as it came to stop. A crowd poured onto the platform as a different grouped clamored into shaky passenger cars. Two men sit at the bar across the road and unwind from the day with talk and whiskey.
“No, really he was.” One of the men said as he pointed his glass at the other.
“I don’t believe you Tom.” The other man retorted as turned towards Tom.
“My dad was a Khan.” Tom pushed, “He became a Khan when he was young, and when they left the Mojave he stayed behind and took NCR citizenship when the republic took over.”
“I didn’t know the NCR needed someone with experience pushing jet and med-x.”
“Screw you Jerome. He became a rail layer and had a family, which is why I’m here.”
“Okay sure, did you know my dad was the Courier?”
“Bite me. I think the spawn of the Courier wouldn’t be guzzling liquor and spending his down time shooting old signs.”
“My mother used to run The Thorn and she said that the Cou….”
In the middle of his sentence, an older woman with faded auburn hair sat down next to him and put her finger to the bar.
“Barkeep, whiskey.” She demanded as she turned towards the two, “Are you two old enough to drink?”
“Are you too old to drink?” Tom smirked just before the woman’s fist sent him to the floor.
“Well, I think I’ll have another drink.” She said as she shook out her fist.
“Didn’t…didn’t see that coming.” Tom says as he picked himself up.
“So, tell me about the courier I heard you two yammering on about?” The woman asked as she spun the stool towards Jerome.
“You’re not from around here are you?”
“I haven’t been around since the war ended.” She said as she stared at her glass.
“Well the Courier bolstered the NCR in its time of need and single-handedly broke the neck of the bull.” Jerome stated.
“He could also fly and shoot lasers from his eyes.” Tom chimed in mockingly.
“Lasers…from his eyes?” the woman asked as she rolled her eyes.
“He could kill a deathclaw with his bare hands, shoot you before he saw you, and convince a Fiend to give him his drugs.” Jerome dramatically boasted.
“Must have been an evil [censored].” She blurted.
“HE WAS A SAINT YOU OLD COW!” Tom shouted as he was punched once again.
“Could you please stop that?” Jerome requested as he helped his friend back to the stool, “He’s already not all there anymore.”
“As long as he stays quiet, sure.” She agreed, “Now when you said ‘Broke the neck of the bull’ what the hell does that mean.”
“The Courier defended Bitter Springs, aided Forlorn Hope, snuck into Fort Victory, killed Caesar and his command, and traveled into the Divide to rain fire on the Legion.” Jerome reminisced, “He even led NCR across the dam and to victory.”
“Well a couple of things about your story.” The old woman said as she finished her drink, “It was just called The Fort back then, the NCR named it Fort Victory after the war. The other thing is that the Courier braved the Divide for personal vengeance, not to break the Legion.”
“I thought you said you didn’t know about him.” Jerome said with a disappointed glare, “Why did you just let me ramble on like that?”
“I never said I didn’t know him. I just wanted to see how people remember him.”
“I think he still watches over the people of the Mojave, and helps those in need.” Tom said.
“You really are cracked in the head, aren’t you?” she snarled at him, “He wasn’t a god or a saint, the Courier was a regular guy thrown into fire and then forced to fight his way out. He probably went east after the war to find his peace.”
“What makes you the expert?” Tom asked then covered his face for the impending attack that didn’t come.
“You just had to have been there I guess.” She quietly stated as she put her glass down.
As she did, a middle-aged woman with black hair and an old Followers coat stepped behind her. The Follower put her hand on the woman’s shoulder.
“You ready to go?” The Follower quietly asked.
“Yeah V, just let me take care of this.” She said as she put a few NCR 20’s on the bar, “For my friends here.”
She got up to leave, and a crimson pendant swung as she punched Tom one last time. As the two opened the door to leave, two older men waited outside; one in a Followers coat, and the other wearing a red beret.
“Think we’ll find him out there?” one asked.
“I don’t know.” The old woman responded, “We’re all in deep [censored] if we don’t.”
I can't wait to see if they will find him and why do they need him and etc etc!! 
