So for those of you who who read my Fan Fiction 'The Gem of the Mojave', this story is taking place DURING the events of New Vegas, but through the eyes of an NCR trooper named Jack Glade, so this story is more of a tie in, Justin is The Courier, but I'll see if he comes across Jack during the story.

--------------------------

Chapter 1: The Relief from 188
July 11th, 2281
12:30 P.M.

Jack Glade sat outside the tent of the NCR troops, mopping his forehead of sweat. “Damn, it’s hot out here. I can’t wait until I can go on furlough, I want to go to The Tops, I sure miss that air conditioning.” A note of longing in his voice at the words ‘air conditioning’. Janice, a fellow trooper, chuckled lightly, “I know right? It’s like sitting in an oven out here. Why the hell are we out here anyway? What, Caesar gonna take over the 188 and start selling Legion Pamphlets?” Jack shrugged cleaning his Service Rifle, “Don’t know, but the brass up at McCarran tell us where to go, and we go. Truth be told, I’d rather be here than at Forlorn Hope. I feel bad for those boys. Anyway, guess who gets to go to McCarran on reassignment in an hour?” Janice looked up, “Me I hope?” Jack chuckled, “Nope. ME! And guess who get’s the rookies coming here tomorrow.” Janice threw her head back and moaned in frustration, “Why do I have to play babysitter to a bunch of rookies?” Jack slung his rifle over his back, his chest plate clinked slightly. “Anyway, better get started on my hike up to McCarran, besides, I don’t want to be in any part of outer Vegas after dark, those damn Fiends are like roaches.” He then extended his hand to her. “You take care of yourself Corporal; Things are rough these days, best of luck to you.” He marched down the hill; purchasing some supplies from the Gun Runner named Alexander, then marched along the road to McCarran.

3:30 P.M.

The massive walls of McCarran loomed like a behemoth as Jack walked beside it’s walls. He started humming an instrumental from The Strip that he always heard that was in his memories now, but still keeping weary as he turned off the old Pre-War runway and saw from far away the old ‘Welcome to Fabulous Las Vegas’ sign, which had been crudely refigured to say ‘New’ over the word ‘Las’. Jack met the soldier outside the gates by the sandbag, gave him a half salute, “Afternoon soldier.” The man behind the sandbags nodded. Jack stopped, digging in his trooper pack, pulling out a bottle of clear water from Lake Mead. “Here private, you look thirsty.” The soldier finally spoke, eyeing the water like a rare diamond. “Oh man, you bet I am. Thanks!” He grabbed the bottle, drinking it half empty, sighing afterwards in relief. “Thanks….” Jack realized he didn’t introduce himself. “Oh, er, Sergeant Jack Glade,” He extended his hand in friendliness. “Just got reassigned here from the 188. Wait And See still here?” The private, chuckled lightly, then cleared his throat, “Nope, Oliver went off to Hoover Dam with a few Ranger Vets. Speaking of which, you hear they’re bringing in some of the Vets from out of Baja?” Jack was stunned for a moment. “Damn, really? Hell, you KNOW things are escalating if they’re bringing those guys in.” Suddenly realizing he had to report in for reassignment, he hastened his response, “Er, anyway, I have to go see Colonel Hsu so I can start my post. Take care soldier.” Glade opened up the door to McCarran’s old parking lot, the entry way to Camp McCarran.

Oh god yes, you know we all wanted another... Keep it up, looking good currently.

Heh, thanks. Sorry if it starts of slow, but I don't really like hurr durr gun fights. So I try and make a dialogue/daily life story. Maybe its jsut me, but I like normal people's stories over the overpowered god characters like in-game.

Nice, you know it was weird reading Mojave earlier, because you can really see, or at least I think so, how your writing ability has improved. Don't get me wrong it's never been crap, but from reading the Manhattan RP, Mojave and then this you can really see it. Looking pretty good, got to ask whether a mere trooper would have to see a full Colonel; I remember that he says that he is good with faces in-game but McCarren must be so much bigger than we see it.

Any way, looks good . Got something else to distract me from doing physics coursework now

Oh yeah, see, my Fan Fics are the 'obvious' things. IE, The Strip is one long road, since the gates in game are just a game engine requirement. And McCarran is a hell of a lot bigger, but McCarran as a base I'll try to expand on the esoteric feeling of Pre-War memory mixed with Post-War use as a military base.

Normal Stories > Unbelievable Stories

You do a good job at that.

Okay, since I had absolutely nothing better to do with my time. I wrote chapter 2, but I'll wait until future days ahead to install more chapters.

For this chapter, I try to portray him as more than just an NCR trooper who does patrols, kills, and et cetera.

--------------------------------------------------
Chapter 2: Flight Delay at McCarran

July 11th, 2281
3:57 P.M.

Jack walked down the road of McCarran’s parking lot. He walked along the road towards the terminal building, lolling his head left, watching the soldiers moving about, some exercising, and some practicing on the range. He noticed a squad in red berets. “Huh, so 1st Recon’s here hm? Nice to know we have some good shots here.” He spoke it aloud, though no one was there to listen. He opened the door of the terminal building, passing a black soldier with a thick beard. Glade took off his beret as he entered the building; he couldn’t help but moan in relief when he felt a gentle cool breeze from an AC vent. “Pardon me ma’am, can you direct me to Colonel Hsu?” The woman looked up from her gun kit. “Oh, Hsu is just to the left, past the two Heavy Troopers, he’s in General Oliver’s old office.” Jack merely gave a nod of thanks and walked to the office.

Jack knocked three times on a metal door. “Enter.” Said a gentle voice. Jack opened it and poked his head in and slowly entered the office. He stood and gave a stiff salute “Colonel Hsu, Sergeant Jack Glade reporting for assignment to McCarran.” Hsu gave a salute back, “At ease Sergeant. I’m glad you’re here. I don’t know if you know this or not, but I got the report of that incident you were involved in two weeks back. I have to say, I’m impressed. Five troops wounded, three dead, and you went rushing out to drag those boys from the gunfire. That took a lot of heart, I know Oliver wouldn’t approve, but for what you did, for what you risked, and judging by your continued high performance marks of your superiors, I’d say you’ve earned a promotion to Staff Sergeant. Enjoy it soldier. Now, you’ll have tomorrow off so you can take a day of well earned rest, but after tomorrow, you’ll be assigned as CO to one of the companies stationed here. I know you’re a relatively low rank, but your outstanding work and leadership abilities warrant it. I wouldn’t be surprised if you take Oliver as general by October.” Hsu gave a slight smirk at this, and then straightened his face again. “Anyway, Glade, you’re free to take furlough pass for The Strip. I assume you’ve been there before, so I’ll spare you the rules lecture.

7:30 P.M.

Jack, having decided to spend the night in his bunk in McCarran airport, was lying in bed, staring at the springs of the bunk above. He was comfortable just relaxing, he’d spent two weeks fighting, sweating, patrolling, and watching his comrades in arms die. Though for a civilian, this bunk would be ‘low quality’, after what Jack had been through, he learned to appreciate the basic comforts. He rolled over and put his hand under his pillow, staring into nothingness, he was nervous, Ranger Vets, rumors of Legion veterans from Arizona, the over all air was tense, he knew another battle at Hoover would happen soon. Unintentionally, he spoke his mind aloud, “I hope I make it back home to Vault City in one piece.” He pulled open a pocket of his fatigues, pulling out a worn black and white photo of his wife and daughter. He stroked the faces with a finger, and as had become his nightly ritual, kissed each and said softly, “I love you, I’ll be home soon, I promise.” Putting the picture back into his inner coat pocket, he rolled over and closed his eyes, allowing fatigue and sleep to take him.

:clap: That was great! You are an excellent write Colonel Martyr.

Bravo, you sustain me... this sustains me. this sustained me. :spotted owl:

Yay!

From Vault City, huh. Shouldn't he be an egotistical racist ass. That's how most of them are in Fallout 2. Is he one of the two good people in Vault City, or has being in the army changed him?

Nah, it's kind of like how in sometimes a racist family spawns a tolerant person. That's pretty much how he is. He's got the vault City education, but over all, Jack is a pretty humble and kind man.

More more more, I loved the Gem of the Mojave, it was brilliant, and this ones started great aswell, Chapter three please!!! :yes:

*patiently awaits next chapter* :whistling:

Little question here, Colonel.
When you elapse time in instances where a player does things like travel from one location to another, do you just make up a certain amount of time, or do you actually boot up the game and see how long it would take to to travel between the two locations?

Randomly roll it. I'm not going to boot up the game and do that. But two hours sounds around right if you go by the roads.

@Any reader in general- I've been busy the past few days exercising to meet the physical requirements my Army Recruiter told me, so I have half put effort on this on hold, but I'll try and post a new chapter in a few hours.

This here will be one of the first few path crossings that Jack and Justin will have. The idea behind it will be a sort of isometric joke to the reader. Since we know what fate who he is, but Jack and Justin are never going to be more than passing allies.

------------------
Chapter 3: Crossing paths is a funny thing sometimes.

6:30 A.M.

Jack was leaning on the wall of Colonel Hsu’s office, he was not to be on duty for the next few hours, so he was enjoying these few peaceful hours. He stared curiously at a young man, whose hair was oiled back and wearing one of the expensive Combat Armor Mk II models. ‘I sure wish the NCR could fit us with those suits, we’d beat those Legion savages back and then some.’ Jack couldn’t help but listen in on what the man was saying. “Colonel Hsu, my name is Justin. I’ve helped the NCR a bit, and wanted to see if I could do anything to help you guys.” He then heard that familiar calm voice, “I’ve heard of you, you’ve done a lot of good for the NCR, nice to have you around, just a moment.” With a jump, he heard the slam beside him. ‘Damn, oh well.’ He couldn’t help speak softly aloud this time, “Huh, so that’s Justin hm? He does look real young; I thought those were just rumors.” He simply shook his head to clear his thoughts. He was excited for tomorrow night; he’d be heading to The Strip on two days leave.

The next day…

8:00 P.M.

Jack got off the monorail with some other troops, obviously looking eager to get drunk and laid at Gomorrah. Jack however had never been on The Strip. He figured he’d walk around and get the lay of the land. He was also hoping to lighten his heart, for earlier, that man Justin had uncovered that Captain Curtis was a Legion spy, his heart was torn a little, as he looked up to Curtis as a great leader. He opened the door to let the troops enter The Strip first, getting mostly grunts as thanks. The last, a gorgeous blonde woman with fair features asked in an attempt at seduction, “Hey handsome, wanna get a room at Gomorrah?” Jack blushed and cleared his throat, looking down at the floor, “Sorry gorgeous, but I’m married.” She frowned at him and said slightly hurt, “Your loss handsome.” He watched her walk off, and couldn’t help himself and looked at her rear as she walked, he tilted his head a bit and thought to himself, ‘Phew, nice curves, but, my wife could give her a run for her caps with her caboose.’ He walked out the door, the light ‘click’ of the door as it shut behind him. When he got down on the sidewalk, he was blown away. He looked to the doors of the Lucky 38 to the Embassy fencing, from Gomorrah to Michelangelo’s Sign shop.

He was awestruck, the beautiful neon lights, the sounds of laughter and pvssyr, the creak of patrolling Securitrons. Jack made his way towards the Lucky 38, watching a Securitron roll up to a man in mirrored shades and a white suit with light pinstripes and a black tie, just entered through the South Gate from Freeside. A fellow trooper stopped him. “Hey, don’t even bother man; the Lucky 38 is Mr. House’s place, rumor has it it’s been sealed up since the Great War. Wanna go to Gomorrah?” Jack was staring up at the top of the Lucky 38, suddenly out of thought, “Huh? Wha-? Oh, no thanks, I’ve heard of Gomorrah, not my kind of place, The Tops is my kind of place.” The guy just shrugged, “alright man, enjoy it, I’m off for a piece of ass.” Jack rolled his eyes, about to go over to the flashing roof of The Tops, when a loud grating noise. “Is that something collapsing?” He looked behind him, the massive blast doors of the Lucky 38 rolled back, the same man in the suit who had been intercepted by the Securitron was now walking up the flashing walkway. Jack and a large crowd now stood together, gawking. He heard a feminine voice behind him. “Wow! That guy must be important to go in there!” He heard a male voice in response, “He must be, I’ve never heard of ANYONE entering that place in 200 years!” Jack was curious who he was, having not seen who he was. However, he, and the rest of the crowd, dispersed.

He was originally going to go gamble. But he was tired, and curious about the ‘Vault 21 hotel’ sign. He strolled leisurely over to the building, opening it to greet a beautiful blonde in a Vault 21 Jumpsuit; he thought to himself ‘Do ALL the women in Vegas have fine curves? Damn. No, wait, I’m married for Christ’s sake.’ He introduced himself, the women doing so as well, introducing herself as Sarah Weintraub. “The room will be 20 caps every night you want to stay.” Jack shrugged, “Huh, why not?” and pulled out a $100 NCR Dollar bill from a pouch and handed it on the counter. “Thank you, sir. Let me escort you to your room.” Jack followed Sarah down several corridors, finally led to his room he nodded politely, ordering the royal treatments of wake up call, breakfast and a few other amenities. His heart soared as he saw how quant the room was; it had something about it that said ‘emotionless yet comfy’. Jack threw himself on the bed, a light ‘fwoomp’ sound as he hit the soft mattress. Changing into some silken crimson pajamas, he sighed and said with a grin, “Yep, these next two days are gonna be paradise.” He wore a surprised face while listening to Radio New Vegas, mentioning the sudden breaking news that Benny, the leader of The Chairmen, was found dead in The Tops, with the killer never having been seen.

I like how you've incorporated news of the Courier/Justin in the story. It really gives a interesting perspective. Keep it up :thumbsup:

Looks cool so far man.

I have been waiting for another Fan Fic from you Colonel, BRAVO!

So beautifuuuul! Sooo beaaautif-ful to me!

Chapter 3: The Shatter of Crystal

6:30 A.M.

Jack groaned sleepily at the intercom and the voice of Sarah Weintraub. “Good Morning Mr. Glade, this is your wake up call sir. You have mail from the NCR; the letter is in your box by the door.” Jack stirred a little more at this, ‘Mail? Who could be sending me a letter?’ he thought to himself. Jack picked up the letter and sat down at the desk by the computer terminal. He picked up a cup of coffee from the pot next to it, and sipped it, reading the envelope, the outside stamped ‘This letter has been deemed non-important to the NCR’s national security.’ When he opened the seal, he pulled a letter out; he noticed it to be over half a month old, the letter in his wife’s hand, his expression unchanging as he read it from top to bottom.

‘Dear Jack,

By the time you’ll have read this, I have sold our possessions and moved in with another citizen, I have fallen in love with Jason Talve, the city councilman. Unlike you, HE doesn’t go off and joins a bunch of Wasteland morons and runs to Vegas to ‘Fight for Democracy’. I’ve told Lillian you have died in combat, so it’s best you don’t come back, for her sake. I’m sorry it has to be like this, but I got tired of waiting on you, enjoy traipsing with idiots who claim to be soldiers.

Amy’

Jack just sat there, quiet and empty. Most men in his position would be rage filled, vengeful. For Jack, his wife and kids were his everything; He spent the past four years in the Vegas area, defending everyone he loved from Caesars Legion. Now, he felt his whole world on fire. He wanted to cry, but he felt no emotional will to do so. He pulled out a lighter emblazoned with the NCR logo on it and burned it. He took a shower allowing the warm hot water to heat him the way his soul no longer couldn’t. After he got out, he put on his trooper armor, took the monorail to McCarran, no nods, smiles, or hellos.

7:30 A.M.

Colonel Hsu looked up his desk to see a man before him, “Yes, how can I- Oh, Staff Sergeant Glade, I thought you were on leave.” Jack didn’t respond, he merely looked to his lower right, a look of sorrow in his face. “Glade, I read the letter, as I do all mail in and out, I’m sorry. If it’s of any consultation, the way she wrote it, you’re better off without someone who can do something like that.” Jack didn’t acknowledge this, he merely saluted, his fingers touching his beret. “Sir, I request permission to me moved to The Hope.” Hsu seemed to drain of color in his face, “If you want to kill yourself, just put the gun to your mouth now. Don’t do this to yourself kid.” Jack simply said, with a tone of deep pain, “It’s my test, if God wants me alive, then I know I have some purpose to live for. If I die, then let my anguish die with me.” Hsu looked up at him, his face filling with conflict. “Damn it, fine, but if you die, never let it be said that your blood is on my hands.” Jack, with no feeling of care, said in a quiet voice, “If anything, the blood will be on my hands alone.” He didn’t even give a salute, he slunk out of McCarran, his custom service rifle on his back, his 9mm on his hip, and his torn picture of his family lying by the gate.

Brilliant, keep it up, and that part with his wife, even I kinda felt for the guy, that would be crushing, you are an amazing writer.

I like where this is going

Four years away at war is a long time and you can half expect for someone to leave you after such a long absence, but telling your kid that their dad is dead when he didn't even do anything terrible or shameful? Damn!

I'm guessing Jack might not have been a racist bastard, but he sure as hell married one! But of course Vault City wouldn't be short on those kinds of people. He needs to come back from the dead and make an appearance at that [censored]'s new home. Punch the councilman in the face. Take his little girl. And set the house on fire!!!...Or you know, just talk it over with his daughter. Whichever seems the most reasonable.