For weeks now, Vulpes had been wandering the Mojave, watching, observing, and learning. It was his role, after all, as head of the Frumentarii to learn all that he could about Caesar's possible enemies... or allies. At least this is what Vulpes had repeatedly told himself until it had become palatable and somewhat believable. Truth of the matter, however, if he were honest with himself, was that there was far more to his actions than mere reconnaissance.
It had all started at Nipton. Even now, as Vulpes sat in a dilapidated building so that he might be hidden from view, he closed his eyes and recalled that disgraceful and sinful place. He could hear the moans and pleas for mercy from those who'd been crucified. He could smell the acrid smoke that had hung in the air and made his eyes sting. If he really allowed himself to lose himself in his memories, he could almost swear that he could taste the coppery tang of the blood that had been spilt.
Under Vulpes' direction, Nipton had been subjected to the justice that only the Legion could bring to the Mojave. Most outsiders would look upon Nipton's main thoroughfare lined with the crucified dissolute, the heads on pikes and the pyres with horror and declare them acts of the most atrocious nature.
How little they understood.
If they could only look beyond the bloodshed they would understand the reasons why it had to be this way. Nipton did not build up or edify anyone. It didn't offer any real commodity or opportunity for trade. The only purpose that Nipton served was to satisfy the base desires of those who were willing to pay. With a siren song, the town lured fools to partake in debauchery with its tired whores in exchange for a handful of caps. It pained Vulpes to admit that there were men of the Legion who had fallen to the supposed charms of Nipton, but they had been dealt with in an appropriate fashion. Of course, when given the option of crucifixion or suicide, all had opted for the latter.
The lottery had been a success, not that it would have been anything but that. There would only be one true winner, of course, in spite of what the idiot Swanick might have thought. He was only the winner in a technical sense. True, the luck of the draw had spared his life, but that was all it was. He'd had every chance to have been one of the unfortunate ones that had been beheaded, crucified or burned alive. If Vulpes had had his way, no one would have been spared, but the lottery demanded a winner, if only because it was necessary. The winner had an important role to play, whether they realized that or not. What good would it do to make an example of Nipton and have no one to tell the tale?
So while Swanick dashed away thankful to be leaving this place of death with life and limb intact and shouting that he was the winner, Vulpes knew the truth. The real winner of the lottery had, in fact, been Caesar. Vulpes knew that Swanick would spread the news of what had transpired here. He likened his actions here to throwing a stone into a pond. The area where the rock hit the water was turbulent, but that faded quickly. The ripples, however, would slowly spread across the surface of the water. And in a similar fashion, from a single person, fear of the Legion would spread.
Now standing on the steps of the Nipton town hall, Vulpes looked around and took great pride in his handiwork. Already the vultures and other birds of prey were gathering, ready to eat their fill and pick over the corpses. Vulpes watched in amusement as a crow landed on the shoulder of one of the crucified Powder Gangers so that it might pluck the man's eye from its socket. The man had weakly groaned, unable to do much more than that although the pain of it must have been excruciating.
Satisfied that their work was done, Vulpes prepared to give the order to leave Nipton but something caught his keen eye.
At the end of the road was a woman, although this in and of itself was nothing remarkable. People would eventually happen across the remains of Nipton. However Vulpes was interested to see what her reaction to the carnage would be. Remaining where he was, he watched, his sharp eyes taking in her every move.
She would pause beside every cross, look up at its occupant and move on. Never once did she flinch or look horrified. This, above all else, intrigued Vulpes greatly. He waited for her to approach him and only when she was at the foot of the steps did he finally close the gap between them.
For a brief moment their eyes met, although it was difficult with him wearing such dark sunglasses. But in spite of that, something unspoken passed between them and Vulpes was unable to say what it was. All he did know was that it had unsettled him slightly. Quickly brushing that aside, Vulpes, being the calculating man that he was, knew that he would be able to use this woman.
He offered her a small disingenuous smile that never touched his cold eyes.
"How fortuitous it is that you have arrived," Vulpes said in his soft voice.
The woman's eyebrows rose slightly. She certainly hadn't expected that. What she'd been expecting was a gruff order for her to be killed on sight. Even more surprising was how soft spoken he was. It was far from pleasant though. There was an oily quality to everything he said.
She shrugged, "It depends on your point of view. If you intend on nailing me to a cross, it's not very fortuitous at all."
Bemusement flashed in Vulpes' eyes this time and he said, "I have no intention of crucifying you." He took a step closer to her, invading her personal space just to see what she would do. "You have far greater worth to the Legion alive than dead."
"Is that so?" The woman smirked and stood her ground. Mirthlessly she quipped, "I'm afraid I'd make a terrible slave."
Vulpes gave her an obvious once over, admiring her form. Although enslaving her hadn't crossed his mind until she'd mentioned it, he decided against it, although it was tempting.
"Even the most wilful and recalcitrant of captures can be trained with the proper... motivation." He brought a hand up to briefly twirl a lock of her blonde hair around his finger, "And while you would prove to be a most alluring and amusing diversion, that is not what I have planned for you."
The woman stepped back and nervously tucked her hair behind her ears. From the moment she walked into town and saw the Legion flags and the crosses she knew that she was in a dangerous position. Even when the Legionaries had not attacked her on sight, she still knew better than to let her guard down.
Now this man was giving her that look. It was the look that she would get from men in seedy bars who wouldn't give a second thought about dragging her into a dark alley and doing unspeakable things to her. Not liking the look in the man's eyes she regarded him as she would a giant Radscorpion that was about to attack.
She asked, "Who are you?"
"I am Vulpes Inculta, the head of Caesar's Frumentarii," he smoothly replied and gave her another self satisfied smirk. "And you are?"
"I'm... just a courier," she answered. It had been on the tip of her tongue to tell him her true name, but she decided against it at the last second.
Vulpes' eyes narrowed and his smile died somewhat, but her name was irrelevant to his needs.
"Very well... Courier." He motioned around him, "You are to remember what you see before you. Commit every detail, every sight, every sound to memory. And when you are asked about the fate of Nipton you can tell the profligates and dissolute of the Mojave of lessons of Nipton."
The Courier's eyes briefly darted around before returning to Vulpes. She daren't look away from him for long lest he decided to take advantage of it.
"And what exactly are the lessons you've taught?" she asked. "Because from where I'm standing, the only thing I've learned is that you guys are big on elaborate deaths." She nodded towards the crosses.
Vulpes sighed dramatically, "For some reason I had hoped that you could understand what happened here. Alas, I was obviously wrong. I shall make this as simple as possible. Nipton was guilty of certain crimes. The Legion saw fit to punish the people here and wipe Nipton from the map. Mark my words, Courier, this shall be the fate of many a settlement when Caesar's Legion marches over the Mojave."
Looking around again, the Courier frowned. If this is what the Legion wanted to do, then the Mojave was in grave danger. However, she was only one woman against a handful of highly skilled and battle hardened warriors and there was no way that she could do anything to stop them. Deciding that discretion was the better part of valour, the Courier turned back to Vulpes and said, "I admire the purity of the Legion's actions."
The ghost of some emotion flitted across Vulpes' face before his usual mask fell into place again.
"You have learned well. Now go, spread the news of the Legion to all whose path you cross," Vulpes said with a smirk.
And with that, he motioned for his men to follow him and they made their way out of the burning ruins of Nipton. Vulpes was sure he could feel the heat of the Courier's gaze on his back. Knowing that she was watching him made him feel as if fire were coursing through his veins.
Vulpes sighed at the memory of that day. Nipton had been a triumph and the Courier had performed her task admirably. It wasn't long before word of the Legion's incursion west of the Colorado River was being spoken of widely amongst the inhabitants of the Mojave Wasteland and the NCR.
However, upon his return to Fortification hill, Vulpes was irritated to find that his thoughts often went back to the Courier, whether he wanted them to or not. During quiet moments when he'd allow his thoughts to drift, he might begin thinking of one thing only to find that he was again thinking of the Courier. What was it about this woman that had captured his interest? As women went, she wasn't necessarily the most beautiful he'd ever seen, but she wasn't exactly unpleasant to look at either.
Vulpes knew that he should be repulsed by the Courier. For one thing, she dared to take on work fit only for a man. Women were weak creatures suited only for the tasks of bearing children and pleasing their husbands. Vulpes felt certain that the Courier was undoubtedly no stranger to the pleasures of the flesh. She was a profligate, after all, and such women were usually common whores, willing to submit themselves to any man who might ply them with alcohol and fed them a line of flattery.
Late at night as the camp quieted and settled to sleep and Vulpes was alone in his tent, he found himself imagining the Courier writhing in ecstasy beneath some sweating pig of a man who clumsily pawed at her. Much to his disgust, the thought of her being taken roughly sent an electric thrill through him. He could practically see her back arching and hear her breath hitch. A sheen of sweat covered her satin skin, a bead of it rolling down her throat to gather in the delectable dip between her clavicles.
And that was when this fantasy changed. No longer was she being savaged by some faceless lover as Vulpes watched on. Instead it was Vulpes who had forcefully pinned her to the bed. She mewled and called out his name when he bowed his head and pressed his lips to her throat to claim it with hungry kisses. They moved together, limbs entwined and their bodies growing slick from their efforts until they could not continue any longer.
Vulpes shivered as he felt white hot pleasure surge through him. The high of his climax had momentarily made all of his senses sharper than usual but those sensations gradually dulled and left him feeling spent and tired. In that moment Vulpes knew that he had to turn fantasy into reality.
He had to have the Courier for himself no matter what.
Early the next day, before the sun had kissed the eastern horizon with its shades of pink and purple, Vulpes arose and made his preparations. This was to be a solitary task, but Vulpes didn't mind. In fact he often relished missions that required him to act as a sole agent. The camp at Fortification Hill was crowded and there was little to no privacy. Vulpes would tolerate the other Legionaries, but he found their often crude behaviour and humour tiresome after a while.
Taking only the barest of essentials with him, Vulpes left the Fort and made his way back to the Mojave Wasteland. Of course he realized that finding a single courier in a large desert would be practically impossible, but he was clever and patient. All he needed was a single lead. Working diligently, Vulpes had managed to track the Courier down within a few days with the help of news reports of her actions across the Mojave. Since then he'd been tailing her and her companions, gleaning what he could from their actions.
Sometimes he played a game with himself to see how close he could get before they became suspicious. On a few occasions he would allow the Courier to catch a glimpse of him only to fade into the shadows again. She would jump or gasp at the sight of him and when asked by one of her friends what the matter was, the Courier would nervously laugh and say that she'd mistaken a desert plant or a rock for someone following them.
Vulpes' greatest triumph had been the night that he'd actually managed to infiltrate their camp in spite of there being someone on watch. He made a mental note to tell the Courier that it was never wise to leave a drunken woman in charge of something as important as security. As it was, the woman with the cowboy hat (Cass, he had heard one of the others call her) had eventually passed out and Vulpes made his move.
Silently he slipped into the Courier's tent to find her laying on her bedroll, nestled under blankets to fight of the chill of the desert night. He listened to her quiet snoring for a moment and studied her peaceful face. A hesitant hand reached out to touch her golden hair, to feel its silken strands slip over his fingers again. The desire to touch her had nearly been overwhelming, but Vulpes knew that it would be foolish to risk waking her. Instead he settled for stealing the bandana that she used to tie her hair back and then disappeared into the night.
That had been two weeks ago and in that time Vulpes had learned a great deal more about the Courier. In fact, he'd learned that she was not 'just a courier' as she had proclaimed. She was The Courier. Whether she liked it or not, she was quickly becoming integral to events that were looming on the horizon. This only made Vulpes' work even more important. For her to side with anyone but the Legion would be damning.
Taking out the bandana that he'd pilfered from her, Vulpes held it in his hands before burying his face in it and breathing deeply. Her scent lingered, although it was beginning to fade now. It was a mix of dry desert dust, sweat and the spiciness of campfire smoke. To Vulpes it was the sweetest scent ever and he longed to be able to get it from the source, but for now he could do nothing but bide his time.
Peeking out of a windowless window, Vulpes observed the camp that the Courier and her companions had set up for the evening. He'd hoped to catch a glimpse of her in the full moonlight that shone down on the desert, but he was disappointed to find that she wasn't seated with the others who were staring forlornly into the sputtering fire.
Straining his ears, Vulpes tried to listen to what was being said, but only caught the occasional word here and there. It wasn't enough to even catch the gist of their discussion. Frustrated, Vulpes' eyes searched the camp as he wondered where the Courier was.
"Where are you off to?" grunted the man wearing the red beret. Vulpes had learned that the man was named Boone. He was a former NCR soldier who had served with the First Recon Battalion and, from what Vulpes could tell, he had a bit of a deathwish.
The Courier pointed to a building that was intact, for the most part. There were gaping holes in the upper floor that would make it easy to use as a lookout.
"I'm going to go up there and make sure no one's sneaking up on us, okay?"
Vulpes' heart leapt into his throat. That was the voice of the Courier and it sounded as if she were approaching his location. Quietly he cursed himself. He'd gotten complacent and far too bold and was now in danger of being discovered.
"You should stay here," Boone warned.
The Courier sighed, "Boone we've all been travelling together for days now. I need a break, okay?"
"... Fine," Boone reluctantly agreed. "Take your gun."
The Courier laughed and patted the 9mm at her hip, "As always."
Vulpes had barely gathered his meagre possessions into his pack when the sound of her boots crunching over the rubble strewn floor and then up the stairs made him freeze. Escape was definitely out of the question now. With the fight or flight instincts that the Legion had drummed into him screaming, Vulpes looked about the room deciding what to do.
In a fluid movement, Vulpes slinked into the shadows next to the steps. His nerves and muscles were singing with the adrenaline that was flooding his body. With every passing moment she drew closer. He was still uncertain as to what he would do once she was here, but he knew that he couldn't allow her to reveal his presence.
The Courier climbed the last few steps...
As soon as she had emerged from the stairwell, Vulpes pounced and grabbed her, one hand covering her mouth. His other arm slinked around her and held her tight against his chest.
The Courier let out a frightened and surprised shriek that was muffled by Vulpes' hand and she violently bucked against him. It wasn't an altogether unpleasant sensation, but he knew that he had to get her under control or their scuffling would eventually draw unwanted attention.
Quietly muttering against her ear, Vulpes said, "So Courier, we meet again."