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Misadventures Of The Mojave

By Sandra Knight

Drama / Adventure

Kick In The Head

Attention, readers!

This story is somewhat of a sequel to my Fallout 3 story, Legacy of the Capitol. It's not absolutely essential that you read Legacy of the Capitol before reading this story, but you will understand my courier much better if you do. But if you plan to read both stories, I recommend reading Legacy of the Capitol first, because Misadventures Of The Mojave will contain story spoilers for Legacy Of The Capitol. Also, one of the main characters in this story will be a companion from a very popular and wonderfully made mod for the pc version Fallout New Vegas. Those of you who play Fallout on playstation or x-box will not know who Niner is, only pc players or AlChestBreach fans might recognize him. I will be using some of the stories from a select few mods for Fallout new Vegas, as well as making a lot of this up as I go along - and I would very, very, VERY much appreciate feedback on both of my Fallout stories, both compliments and critique (as long as you're polite). Enjoy!

Why were the nights always so restless?

The sun was gone... the sky no longer bright, the clouds thickening, darkening, as a radioactive rain began to drizzle...

Am I in the Capitol?

No... she couldn't be in the Capitol. Sandra had left the Capitol Wasteland four years ago.

No, Sandra thought frantically as she looked around the ruins of DC. I don't want to be here. No... not again...

The purifier in the Jefferson Memorial exploded.

"No!" Sandra screamed. Somehow, she was standing at the purifier and in the middle of Point Lookout's deepest swamp at the same time. The hallucinations she'd had in Point Lookout returned to her; suddenly, Mr. Burke was standing at the edge of Megaton's bomb again, begging her not to leave the Capitol...

She fell to her knees, but her legs didn't sink into the swamp water like she expected.

Now, Sandra was kneeling on a hard surface of desert dirt. This was different; the dream changed completely. The illuminating tower on the New Vegas strip was visible shining off in the far distance, brightening the night sky like a star all its own. But Sandra was nowhere near Vegas. She sat in the dirt in the center of a small graveyard. The Great Khans exchanged glances with each other, while a stranger in a checkered suit finished his cigarette, dropped it on the ground, and stepped on it. He then flipped open a lighter and lit a fresh cigarette, exhaling a cloud of smoke into the wind as one of the Khans continued to dig a fresh grave nearby.

Their voices echoed from what sounded like miles away.

"You got what you were after, so pay up."

"You're cryin' in the rain, paly."

"Hey, guess who's wakin' up over here." One of the Khans looked at Sandra.

"Time to cash out." The suited stranger said.

"Will you get it over with?" Another Khan grumbled.

The suited man held up a finger. "Maybe Khans kill people without lookin' 'em in the face, but I ain't a fink. Dig?"

Am I awake yet? Sandra wondered. Or is this still a dream?

Underneath the ropes on her wrist, she was still able to see the burn that she'd gotten during the war for the purifier against the Enclave four years ago. That was a scar that would never go away.

"You've made your last delivery, kid." The suited man said, placing the Platinum chip in his suit's inner pocket, then pulling out a sleek nine millimeter pistol. "Sorry you got twisted up in this scene. From where you're kneeling, must seem like an eighteen karat run of bad luck."

He held up the glistening gun, enabling Sandra to stare down the barrel.

"Truth is..." He uttered. "The game was rigged from the start."


Everything blurred. Something overhead was spinning... spinning, like a fan... it was a fan...

Sandra finally blinked herself awake, fighting off a massive migraine and forcing herself to sit upright.

The first thing she noticed was the jagged burn mark around her wrist.

She often found herself staring into that scar without meaning to.

"Well... you're awake. How 'bout that." A voice said. "Easy there, easy. You've been out cold for a couple of days now. Why don't you relax a little... get your bearings."

Sandra turned her head, meeting eyes with a friendly looking doctor that she'd never seen before. The air hit her athletic body as soon as she sat up; she was wearing nothing but her under garments.

"Your name." The doctor said. "Can you tell me your name?"

"S... Sandra." Sandra replied skeptically, extending her legs over the edge of the bed.

"Not the name I'd have picked for you, but if that's your name, that's your name. I'm Doc Mitchell. Welcome to Goodsprings." The doc said, politely holding out a hand and lifting her to her feet. "Now, I hope you don't mind, but I had to go rootin' around in your brain to get all the bits of lead out. I did alright, I think, but you're gonna be flashin' a pretty deep scar on your face from now on. Take a look, tell me if I left anything out of place."

Doc held up a small mirror in front of Sandra.

Her roundish face looked the same, her young skin still pale and slightly weathered, her eyes an endless ocean of blue, and her short neck-length hair still shining its usual crimson red. Her forehead, however, now carried a small, thick scar from where the bullets had penetrated her skull.

"Looks alright." Sandra ran two fingers over the fresh scar. "Actually, it looks pretty cool..."

Doc let out a laugh. "Heh. Good to know. Now, I hope you don't mind, but I went through your belongings a bit... thought it might help me find some of your kin, but all I found was some delivery order about a Platinum chip."

"My shotgun... where's my shotgun?" Sandra remembered, feeling anxious. "The shotgun, the clunky one... I carry it everywhere... have you seen it?"

"Hmm? Oh, yeah. It was next to your old satchel lying around up at the graveyard." Doc replied, bending over and retrieving Sandra's belongings from behind the nearest metal shelf. "Never seen a shotgun like this one. Looks a little bit like a riot shotgun to me, but hey, what do I know. I ain't much of a gun man."

Doc handed Sandra the large shotgun, as well as her bag of belongings.

"Thanks." Sandra said with a sigh of relief. She held the shotgun close as if she was hugging an old friend. "This is a combat shotgun. They have a lot of these out on the east coast."

"The east?" Doc raised his eyebrows. "You came from all the way out east? Goodness."

"Eh. I've been living out west for four years now. Feels like a lot longer, honestly." Sandra shrugged.

Doc escorted her to the vigor tester machine, where Sandra discovered that her intelligence was higher than that of most wastelanders. Afterwards, he administered a quick psychological examination before giving her a vault suit to wear and showing her to the door.

Sandra got herself dressed in the bathroom before Doc would see her out. It felt very strange to be wearing a vault suit again.

"Here you go." Doc said, handing her a familiar device. "I grew up in one of them vaults. This here's a Pip-Boy 3000. I got no reason to have it now, but you might have use for such a thing. It'll help you keep track of everything, even your health."

"I..." Sandra gazed into the Pip-Boy almost thoughtlessly. "Um... thanks."

She snapped the Pip-Boy onto her arm. The extra weight on her left arm wasn't something that she was accustomed to anymore.

"Now that metal fella, Victor, he's the one who dug you outta that grave and brought you up here in the first place. He's still rollin' around town now, if you wanna speak to him." Doc told her. "Good luck out there. I put a few extra caps in your bag, just to get you wherever you're goin'. Now, be safe... and try not to get killed anymore."

"Thanks for patching me up, Doc." Sandra replied.

"Eh, don't mention it. It's what I'm here for. Feel free to drop by any time." Doc smiled, gave her a wave, and moseyed off to his living room.

Sandra watched him for a moment before deciding to leave the house. He grew up in a vault too? I wonder why he left. Probably not for the same reasons I did...

The sunlight nearly blinded her when she stepped outside.

The town of Goodsprings appeared oddly beautiful, like a peaceful scene from an old western movie. Not at all like the towns in DC's wasteland...

Upon gazing into the sun, Sandra felt a shiver slither down her spine. Charon's combat shotgun lie on her shoulder, and she hugged it with one arm as she walked into the town. She didn't know it now, but this day would mark the beginning of numerous adventures and unforgettable experiences that would shape the Mojave in ways she could scarcely comprehend.

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