"Here, fill this out," Mitchell said, handing Owen a clipboard. It had a few general questions, most of which related to his medical history. "If you can't answer any of the questions due to, well, you know, just leave them blank. It's really just a formality. Ain't like I'm expectin' to find that you got a family history of being shot in the head."
The young man looked the clipboard over and started filling in a few things. Under name, he put "Ryder, Owen." After doing as much as he could with it, he handed it back to Mitchell, who set it on a nearby table.
"Well, guess I'll set you loose," Mitchell told him. The courier was still in his underwear, so the doctor laughed a little and said, "But I think we'll have to get you some more decent clothes, at least so folks don't think you lack in modesty. Why don't you come with me, I've got that and some other things you'll get a lot more use out of than I will these days."
Owen followed the doctor into his bedroom, where he unlocked a large cabinet. Inside hung a red sweater, A large leather jacket with torn-off sleeves, worn brown pants and some socks and combat boots, along with a few other items. Mitchell reached down and picked up something metal. "I can't keep you cooped in here forever, that's for sure, but I hardly go anywhere nowadays, and it's been years since I last wore this... you outta have it."
He turned around and presented Owen with what looked to be a metal wrist-console; a kind of arm-mounted computer-looking device with a screen and buttons. It would slide onto one of his arms and lock into place. "They call it a Pip-Boy," Mitchell explained. "I grew up in one of them vaults they made before the War. We all got one. Ain't much use to me now, but I think you'll find good use for such a thing."
Owen looked at the device, trying to figure out its purpose. Eventually he just asked, "What does it do?"
"Heh, hell, what doesn't it do. It's got a radio, clock, flashlight, compass, Geiger counter, holotape reader, map with GPS, you name it. It'll keep track of your vitals, too, with a little needle that pokes into you. Harmless, trust me. Locks tight onto an arm and won't come off without your say so, less someone really wants it and is willing to saw through an arm to get at it. But on the vitals, it'll tell you where you're hurt, if you've got any poisons or toxins in your system... really, if you're going out there, it'll be a godsend. Trust me. My days of traveling were a lot easier with this thing. It's probably still got all the places I visited outlined on its map."
Owen listened to all the useful things the Pip-Boy offered, and stuck out his left arm. The doc slid it onto his limb and secured it in place, along with its signature glove. "Now the only downside is you'll have to make room for any clothing you wear for the Pip-Boy. Things like suits or clothes you can just wear it over, but if you ever wear any tougher stuff, you'll need to just cut that piece of the armor off, or ditch the Pip-Boy. I think you'll come to realize it's better to have it than not."
As Mitchell turned around to take something else out of the cabinet, the Pip-Boy buzzed to life. It's screen was bright orange, and displayed a happy-looking mascot, the Vault Boy, giving him a little thumbs-up. Underneath, it read, "Pip-Boy 3000, property of RobCo Industries and Vault-Tec Industries." Immediately, the screen changed to display his vitals, indicating that he was at 100% peak efficiency.
Mitchell turned around and handed him a pistol. "Take this. 9mm, not too strong but reliable. I got ammo for you, too." Mitchell then took out a rifle, running his hand along the stock with a look of fondness. "Now this little puppy I had some times with. A sturdy gun, this. It's a Hunting Rifle, from my travels. 308 rounds, five shots and then you reload. Decent range and stopping power. Got ammo for that, too."
The ex-courier took both weapons and set them on a nearby table, as Mitchell told him he had more. "You ever run outta ammo, it's good to have something that doesn't need reloading. Here," he said, handing him a combat knife. "This will come in handy, I'm sure." He took the knife and looked at it. It was a little old, but still sharp and useful. "You'll need the clothing in here, too. Ts'from my travaling days, not much use for them now"
"You're being very generous," Owen said. "I'm not sure I can take all of these things from you."
"Nonsense," Mitchell insisted. "You'll need it a lot more. It's simple fact. Now, I'll be giving you some stimpaks and a little kit to help keep your weapons clean and in good condition. You don't want your gun to jam or break from the heat and sand that's out there. Food and water, too, along with something nice to carry them all in." He turned around with an old camping backpack, patched in some areas, but otherwise in excellent condition. "You'll be able to focus more on walking and shooting if you don't carry all your items in your arms, after all."
He took hold of the backpack and looked it over. It had various straps and buckles, along with numerous compartments for different things. Mitchell told him to change into the outfit, which he insisted was more comfortable than it looked, while he went and fetched a few more things.
Wordlessly, he slipped into the clothing. Rolling up his left sleeve, he put the Pip-Boy back on, having observed Mitchell secure it beforehand so he knew how to do it again. The pistol came with a holster, and was already loaded, so he slid the belt around his waist and tightened it. The pistol's ammo, one-hundred and twenty-five bullets, were in small, yellow boxes which he put into the backpack. The rifle rounds, seventy five of them, also came in small boxes which he put inside the pack as well.
Mitchell came back in, holding a pair of binoculars in one hand, and some sunglasses and a fedora-like hat in the other. "Found these lying around. Take them." He handed them over, and Owen put the aviators and hat on, which fit quite snugly around his dark hair.
The binoculars he put into a side compartment of the backpack. Then, Mitchell handed him a metal case, not unlike a gun case. "Here. This one's a bit special."
Owen looked at him with curiosity before opening it, discovering a strange pistol inside, along with some things that looked more like batteries than bullets. "What is this?" he asked.
"Got it a while ago. Laser pistol and energy cells for ammo," he answered.
"A laser pistol?" the ex-courier asked with some skepticism.
"Not so uncommon," the doc replied. "They made these things before the war. Some folks are still makin' them today. Good guns, but only if you don't like bullets."
Owen took the pistol, feeling its grip. It was held like a normal handgun, and still had a trigger, and he figured the doc wouldn't pull his leg on something like this. He put the pistol into the backpack along with its ammunition.
"I'm gathering up some food and medicine for you, so just sit tight for a moment." Before he could reply, Mitchell had already left the room.
Owen took the backpack in one hand and the Hunting Rifle in the other and entered the medical room. He set both down on a table, before something caught the corner of his eye. A broken gun, discarded, atop a dirty crate. He knelt to inspect it. Chambered for 9mm bullets, yet a submachine gun. He knew its rate of fire was faster than the pistol he wore at his side, and strangely enough... he knew how to fix it.
The doctor found him a moment later and was surprised to see him loading bullets into the repaired SMG. "Did you fix that old thing?" the doc asked, slightly dumfounded.
"I did," He replied simply.
"How?"
"Hope you don't mind. There was some spare scrap metal on a nearby table. The gun was jammed, and had some other minor damage, easily fixable, really."
"No, I mean, how'd you know how to do it?"
Owen paused. "I just... knew how. I looked at it, saw what was wrong... and fixed it."
Mitchell's hand ran over his balding head. "Remarkable," the old doc muttered. He looked into one corner of the room, seeing his chemistry equipment. An idea jumped into his head. "Say, come here," he brought him over to the set of beakers and glass tubes.
"What do you see here?"
The Courier studied the set. "Chemical. Antibiotics... disinfectant. Ideas..."
"Ideas?"
Owen nodded. "You got any empty syringes?" The doctor nodded his confirmation. "Sterilized?" Again, Mitchell nodded yes. "Please, get them for me... Ideas."
The old man was excited. He fetched them and gave them to Owen, who before his very eyes began working with the set, creating the proper combinations of various liquids and chemicals to formulate medicine. "Stimpaks," Mitchell breathed. "You must've known how to make them before you got shot. You must somehow still remember how to make them."
"I guess so," the ex-courier replied with a smile, holding up a syringe. The stimpak, filled with clear liquid, would quicken any wound's healing and provide a pain-killing effect, though not as acute as pure morphine. "Mind if I keep them?"
"Go right ahead," Mitchell told him. He ran (or walked quickly, rather) and got the medical case he had prepared for the Courier's travels. "Here. Some stimpaks in this, along with a little anti-radiation medicine. It's called Rad-X, useful stuff to take when you hear that Geiger counter tickin'." He took the case with a thank you before the doc once more vanished, only to return with some food wrapped in plastic, along with some bottles of clearn water.
Owen took all of it and put it into his backpack, thanking the doctor once more. "You know doc, you've given me so much, I'm starting to feel like I'm going to have one hell of a bill to pay."
Mitchell shook his head, completely serious. "Now, now, it's what I do. It's my job to patch folks up, you know."
"Is it also your job to hand them a pistol, rifle, SMG and laser pistol, along with stores of your own food and medicine?" the Courier asked with a wry smile.
At that, Mitchell laughed. "Well if I did, a lotta folks around here would be better armed, I'll tell you that for free. No, kid, you're special."
"How?"
Mitchell turned to walk to a nearby window, peering out between the planks of wood that covered it. "Because... you were left for dead by murderers and thieves. They took something of yours, and that ain't right. You almost died, but somehow... you have a second chance. I figure that makes you special. You got a score to settle. I... know what it's like, having something taken from you."
He was silent for a moment. "You know... you never told me about yourself, doc. I'm a little curious now."
Mitchell looked at the younger man. He crossed his arms and began, "Well, I already told you I came from a vault. Vault 21, in case the number on the pip-boy there wasn't a strong enough hint. After that, was a traveling doctor for a spell. Seemed like a good idea at the time. Most folks out there ain't educated, so people with medical knowhow are hard to come by. Found that I could help a lotta people with what I know, and that was alright with me. Eventually, I went back and married my childhood sweetheart and that was the end of my traveling days." He sighed, and looked back out the window. "Didn't miss it none then. Still don't."
The ex-courier looked around the room. In all his time here, he hadn't seen a woman. He fixed his eyes upon the doctor once more and said, "You... said you had something taken from you?"
The doctor slowly nodded. "Well, ain't we all, right?" He looked at the man with a soft expression, a fond one, yet weathered and sad. "That was a long time ago. I don't pay it much mind anymore."
Owen didn't reply. He looked away and said, "Well... I suppose I should leave. Where do I go from here, exactly?"
"Well, you'll probably wanna talk to Sunny Smiles before you leave town. She's a ranger, and a trapper, too. Helps protect the water source from various things. She can help you learn to fend for yourself in the desert, just in case you can't remember any tips like that. There's also a general store run by a feller named Chet. Good man, though a bit hard to bargain with. Trudy runs the local saloon, that's where you'll probably find Sunny, but Trudy's also privy to a lotta the goings on around here. I'd talk to her if you wanna find out more about those men who put you in the dirt. There's also the robot who dug you up, Victor. He might be out rollin' around, you never know, or you could try his shack."
The man nodded as he listened to each piece of advice. "Alright... I think I got it. Thanks for all the help, doc. Really, I don't know what else I can do."
Suddenly, the old man's eyes widened. "Wait! I forgot one thing." He moved into another room, then returned with a small bag that made jingling noises whenever he shook it.
"Caps."
"Caps?"
"Don't remember that, huh? Bottle caps. They're money. Use them to trade, or buy. You'll get'em in selling. I don't have much, fourty-seven last time I counted, but you need them. Here."
Owen thought about denying the man the money he was offering, but accepted it.
"You've done a hell of a lot for me, doc. Patching me up, loading me up with all of this... I honestly don't know how to thank you."
"You just find those men who shot you and take back what was yours," Mitchell said. "That's all you can do. And also... try not to die again, alright? Keep your head out there."
The ex-courier nodded, tipping his sunglasses down a little. "Once more, thank you, doc."
"Don't mention it."
He turned and moved towards the front door, opening it and shutting it behind him. The sun, even through the dark glasses, made his vision go blurry for a moment. The wind hit him, a cool breeze amidst the hot day. Before him lay the small town of Goodsprings, for the good doctor's house was built atop a hill, offering the man quite a nice view of the quaint community.
"Right" he said to no one In particular, "Lets get started"
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Quest Completed! Level Up!
Barter: 45
Energy Weapons: 25
Explosives: 35
Guns: 40
Lockpick: 50
Medicine: 65
Melee Weapons: 30
Repair: 60
Science: 40
Sneak: 25
Survival: 20
Unarmed: 30
Strength: 5, Average Joe
Perception: 7, Big Eyed Tiger
Endurance: 4, Handle with Care
Charisma: 8, Movie Star
Intelligence: 7, Smartypants
Agility: 4, Butterfingers
Luck: 5, Coin Flip
Clothing: Mer Adventurer Outfit
Weapons:
Hunting Rifle- Custom Action
9mm Pistol- No Mods
9mm SMG- No Mods
Lazer Pistol- No Mods
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You guys tell me, what do you think of the little level up part at the end? I plan on adding something like this at the end of every chapter. But, if you guys don't like It I won't. Also, thanks for all the support! Il keep shoveling these chapters out as fast as I can!