This was definitely not the way things were supposed to happen, thought Courier Six, dodging stray bullets as she climbed the fence and escaped Vegas for what would probably be the last time.

With her ragtag team of companions, the allegiance of many friends she'd met on her journey, and let's not forget that gigantic Securitron army, she'd beaten back both the Legion and the NCR at Hoover Dam. After some discussion, the NCR brass decided that there was no point in throwing more money and manpower into the endless desert hellhole, and they'd come to reach an amicable peace with the citizens of New Vegas, continuing to operate the Dam but abandoning their plans to annex the region. The Legion … well, that had been a much less amicable and less peaceful solution. Boone's bullet had found the cracks between Legate Lanius's armor and ripped his throat to pieces. The Securitron army took care of the rest of the Fort, although rumor had it that most of the bigwigs, and maybe even the man himself, had escaped the destruction. Six hoped that wasn't the case. Caesar had been nothing but charming to her, but she would never forget the fires rising over Nipton when she first encountered the Legion, nor the sobs from the slaves that she heard at night during her brief stay in the Fort. Some monsters should never be allowed to walk free.

Whatever the fate of its leaders, the Legion had retreated back to Arizona to lick their wounds and do whatever it was they did when they weren't out conquering and enslaving. And Courier Six and her friends returned to the Strip as the triumphant saviors of New Vegas. Free drinks at all the casinos, all-new furnishings for their suite at the Lucky 38 – hell, The King even wrote a song about her. Most importantly, the citizens of the Mojave were allowed to live in peace and freedom.

For, oh, about six months. Then everything went to hell. Again.

Like cockroaches trickling through cracks in the walls after the lights go out, the Legion seeped back into the desert. This time, there were no enormous armies, no forts, nothing big enough to attract the attention of the Securitrons. Just little things. A mysterious fire brought down the Vikki and Vance Casino in Primm and everyone inside. Officially, the Sheriff determined it was an electrical fire, but no one could quite explain how all the doors were chained shut from the outside. A few NCR officials disappeared from their remaining embassies and camps and were found strung up on telephone poles, left in remote locations for the crows to devour. Scouting patrols in Legion armor were spotted in the mountains. The citizen's militias, with their Securitron counterparts, kept a closer eye than usual on the abandoned Fort and Cottonwood Cove, ever vigilant, but saw nothing. They were looking in the wrong direction the whole time.

Six would always remember the night the lights went out in Vegas. She wasn't sure what sort of tech weapon they'd gotten their hands on, but it was almost certainly the work of that bastard Vulpes Inculta, who'd always been so much more at ease with technology than the other legionaries. Veronica said she'd heard of such a thing while working for the Brotherhood, but had never laid eyes on it herself. In a moment, everything with a power button in the Strip was suddenly turned to "off." The casino lights went dark. The Securitrons instantly deactivated. And while Six and her friends scrambled in the dark for their weapons, still half-asleep and more than a little drunk, the legionaries poured into New Vegas by the thousands.

They must have made a deal with the Boomers, since they'd been able to lead an entire army past the abandoned Camp Guardian and then through the mountains past Nellis without being blown to shreds. While his companions frantically packed what weaponry and food they could carry, Arcade watched from the balcony, horrified, as the Legion tore through the Strip. Gomorrah was set alight. The gamblers streaming out of the casinos were forced to their knees and butchered if they showed any resistance. By the time Six grabbed him and advised him that they were getting the hell out of there right now, the Legion had started pulling drunks and junkies from the Followers hospital at the Old Mormon Fort and shooting them in the head.

The elevators were a no-go without power, so the Courier and her small group ran down endless flights of stairs, only to stop short on the second floor when they heard shouts from the lobby. "Remember, take them alive if you can!" Fuck, thought Six, they couldn't concentrate on slaughtering everyone else for a while while we get out of here? And the take them alive part meant that someone had given specific orders to find them, which could mean nothing good. She didn't know what would happen to them if they got caught, but she could hazard a pretty good guess that it involved a large amount of pain followed by an extended period of death. Lanius may not have been well-liked in the Legion, but a group of people that would crucify an entire town to "teach a lesson" was probably disinclined to give second chances. Or third ones.

Good thing they had a secret weapon, then. The Legion soldiers scattered in shock as Lily suddenly shimmered into view behind them. "Not very nice, dearies!" she roared, picking up their terrified decanus and swinging him into three of his men. Six and her companions took advantage of the opportunity and dashed down the stairs, taking sporadic shots at the few remaining legionaries as they made their way out the back door. Lily caught up with them as they neared the perimeter wall, none the worse for wear, and helped boost them over to freedom. Then they were off, running like bats out of hell to the west, away from the massacre in their backyard.

A week after leaving New Vegas, Arcade disappeared. He'd been off picking flowers for food and potions near Red Rock and never came back. Raul and Cass went out looking for him when he didn't return by nightfall, and found nothing but a pair of broken glasses and a fire gecko, crudely crucified on a pair of sticks lashed together with twine. The message was clear. Despite Boone's vocal desire to stay in the mountains and hunt down whoever was responsible, they packed up and hurriedly moved on.

Six's original plan had been to go to Jacobstown and find safety among the mutants while formulating a way to strike back. That dream had swiftly died when Lily returned from her reconnaissance mission and reported, through a veil of tears, smoke rising over the town and red flags with the bull emblem hanging on the gates. The bodies of her fellows were dumped outside like so much refuse. Six figured that it made sense – Jacobstown was infinitely defensible and the Legion could never resist wiping out the "subhuman" mutants and ghouls – but it still stung.

The new plan, if you could call it that, was to wander vaguely to the southwest, sticking to the mountains, until they got to NCR territory. The Courier was no friend to the NCR, but she knew that they would never tolerate a Legion-controlled Vegas so close to their own territory. They'd be rolling in, full-strength, to kick Caesar's ass back to Flagstaff, so all they had to do was stay alive until they reached safety. Or so she hoped, although a treacherous voice in her head whispered that the NCR might just fortify their own borders and the Dam, then write off the rest of the Mojave as a loss. Zion, maybe? Back to the Burned Man and his tribes? They could offer more protection than anywhere else, although Six wasn't too keen on a life among the red rocks. And she doubted Cass and Boone would make particularly good Mormons. Oh, and the whole 'surrounded by the Legion' thing was about fifty times worse up there.

So southwest it was. The next incident happened while they were camping near Goodsprings, which had been a beautiful little town once, as far as Wasteland towns went, the closest thing the Courier had to a hometown. Goodsprings was well outside of the Legion's new territory, but no sooner had they entered the city when they saw the crosses. Sunny Smiles, Doc Mitchell, Trudy, freshly strung up left to rot in the sun. Whichever legionaries were following them (or ahead of them, now?) had wanted to send a message to the town that had first sheltered the Courier, and all the crucifixions were giving Six a nasty sense of exactly who was pulling the strings behind this particular operation.

Raul was on first watch that night, sitting on a folding chair in the bushes with his pistol as Cass, Boone and Lily slept and Six sobbed into Veronica's shoulder in their makeshift tent. Everyone heard Cass's scream when she went to switch out with Raul and found his decapitated corpse sprawled out on the ground. His gun was fully loaded; he'd never been able to even get off a shot. His head was neatly placed on the folding chair, eyes stitched shut with cactus needles.

A huge argument ensued the next day, after they'd buried Raul's body and quickly found safety in the abandoned Lone Wolf Radio camper. Someone was following them, picking them off, and they had killed Raul but left the rest of them alone; they could have easily slaughtered the entire team while they slept, but decided against it for some reason. The thought rose unbidden in Six's mind. Someone likes to play with their food. She suddenly felt nauseated.

If they were being shadowed by the Legion, they would never get close to the NCR border before whatever trap was waiting for them was sprung. Their destination was clear, and whoever was following them had to know the territory well. Six hated to say it, but it was time to split up. Predictably, the others disagreed.

"The hell I'm going to let you run off back towards that mess," spat Cass. "We've been in this together since the beginning. We've fought the Legion before and kicked their ass. What makes it different this time?"

"This time we don't have an army, Cass," Six sighed.

"But we're so damned close to the border! Just another day or two -"

"Listen! We are not going to be allowed over the border. Trust me! I doubt we'll get much past Primm. My suspicion is that there's one or two with us in the mountains, and then a larger group waiting ..." Six studied the map on her Pip-Boy, which Veronica had finally been able to reactivate after the pulse shut down all the electronics, and jabbed her finger at a location. "Here, probably in one of the Nipton Road gas stations. I've been there, there are lots of supplies and room to hide, and my guess is that the Mojave Outpost is barricaded all to hell right now. They're not going to come out for a disturbance down the road, even if it is the Legion."

"If we think they're probably in there, why don't we just roll a grenade inside?" suggested Veronica.

"Because then we get a bullet in the back of our heads from Mister Shadow who's been following us."

"So, what, we're just going to split up and wander off?" asked Boone. "We'll be dead within two days."

"No. I'm willing to bet that whoever killed Raul and took Arcade is after me, rather than one of you guys – no offense, folks, but the Legion's got all the reason in the world to be pissed off at me. Second choice is Boone, who's killed a lot of their guys. So my idea is this. Cass and Vero, you need to get the hell out of Dodge."

"You think we can't handle ourselves?" sneered Cass.

"I know you can handle yourselves, all right?" Six rubbed her temples. "Veronica, I've watched you put a power fist through a Fiend's chest and come out with a heart that was so fucking undamaged that Arcade wanted to use it for transplants. And Cass, you once tossed a guy out of a tenth floor window for grabbing your ass. But I've been to the Fort, and let me tell you, everything you've heard about how the Legion treats women is one hundred percent correct. One thousand percent correct, although I know if Arcade was here he'd be advising me that you can never be more than a hundred percent correct, so ..." The exhaustion was getting to Six. Arcade. God, she hoped he'd just been captured. Or was that worse?

"Lily, up for a little stealth mission?" The nightkin practically lit up with joy. "Cass and Vero, change your clothing, clean up a bit, and head into Primm. Get a ride with a trader. The caravans are probably still running – that's the one faction that no one wants to piss off. You can probably get to the Mojave Outpost and then head west along the Long 15 without anyone recognizing you. Lily can follow beside you in stealth, just in case. She scared the hell out of those Legion back in Vegas, but I suspect anyone ahead will probably know that we've got a nightkin with us. Get to the Hub first, then Shady Sands, if you can. I'll meet you there ..." she faltered. "When I get there."

Six reached into her pack and fished out the Mark of Caesar Inculta had given her on the Strip, so long ago. Why the hell did I let him walk away? Why did I even go to the Fort? Admittedly I ended up with a robot army from that excursion, but if I'd been willing to let that little shit Benny go, I could have stayed out of all this. Let the NCR and the Legion fight it out at the Dam on their own, go back to Goodsprings, start a dance hall or something.

"If you run into any Legion, see if this still does something. I doubt I'll get away with using it, given that I'm number one on their current enemies list. But if they stop you and don't recognize you, it could be good for a free pass. Come up with a solid story. When you get to the NCR, sound the alarm and raise as much hell as possible. I'm sure they know what's going on here but they may not know the full extent."

"Why isn't Boone coming with us?" asked Veronica.

Six sighed. "Because if I send Boone with you, he'll argue and bitch and moan the entire way, and then as soon as you cross the border into safety he's going to immediately ditch you to come back and kill as many Legion as possible until they take him out. Sounds about right, Boone?"

Boone halfway smiled. "That was my thought."

"So Boone, if you want to kill something, come with me. I'm going to stop this hiding in the mountains shit and head straight east, past the NCR prison. Whoever's been following us will have to expose himself to some degree, and I'm willing to bet there's no Legion up around there, just because there's nothing of interest. Boone and I can handle the Powder Gangers. After that, we can stick to the hills and head north to Hidden Valley. We know how to get in, and that's just about the one place in the world I'm absolutely sure the Legion can't get to. Not without help, anyway."

"And who's to say that our little follower isn't going to take us out the moment we split up?" asked Cass acidly.

"We can't do anything about that, unless we decide that we're just going to stop where we are and figure out where our Legion friends are hiding, which I highly advise against for the following reason." Six grabbed a hat, balanced it on the end of a broomstick, and stuck it out the door. A bullet ricocheted against the metal exterior of the trailer, causing everyone to flinch. She almost had to give their pursuer credit for his sense of showmanship. He had to have seen it was just a very poor decoy, but he obligingly took the shot anyway.

"Point taken," Cass conceded.

"I'm counting on them following me and Boone rather than you guys. If they don't … if they don't …" she struggled to get the words out. "Just don't let them take you. So get some sleep and we'll split up at nightfall. No point in posting a watch since they know exactly where we are, but I doubt I'll be sleeping anyway, so I'll keep an eye out. From inside the trailer, please."

Two hours later, Veronica woke from a sound sleep to the sound of Boone hauling the Courier back inside the trailer. He deposited her on the floor and immediately began yelling at her.

"What the hell are you doing? Idiot! You know they're out there!"

"Of course I know they're out there, Boone! Did you think I was running up the mountain yelling 'Come and get me, cocksuckers!' for fun? They're after me! You guys can get away!"

"I'm not going to let you get killed," Boone said, his voice low. "Or worse."

Ah. There it is. "Planning on shooting me if I get caught?" she hissed. "Seriously, Boone? I'm not going to end up a slave. I'm pretty sure they have something much more inventive planned for me. And since they're stupid enough to want to take me alive, which you would know since they shouted it when they were in the casino, that gives me the opportunity to at least take out a few of the fuckers before I get crucified or torn apart by wild dogs or whatever-the-fuck else Caesar's brilliant mind is fixated on today."

"I just -"

"I know! Listen, will you just trust me? We need to get to Hidden Valley, and we need to do it together, and I can't do that if I have to sleep with one eye open!"

"Then stop trying to throw yourself onto their knives, if we're in this together," he spat. "Speaking of sleep, you planning on resting anytime soon?"

"Yeah, this atmosphere is incredibly conductive to relaxation," Six said with a smirk. "The soothing white noise of our impending deaths just lulls me to sleep."

"I'm not going to bed if you're just going to run out there again."

"Then be my guest. Stay awake."

Night fell. Cass rubbed dirt into her red hair to make it less distinctive, while Veronica changed into a long blue dress that was utterly inappropriate for the Wasteland. When Boone and Six stared at her, she shrugged. "Well? If whoever's stalking us is going to attack us, our armor probably isn't going to do a hell of a lot against a bullet to the head. Might as well look pretty for my funeral."

"So morbid. I'm going to miss you, Vero." Six hugged the Brotherhood scribe tightly.

"You better be there for a drink in Shady Sands, bitch, or I'm going to come marching right into Flagstaff demanding to see you," Cass said.

"I'm going to miss you … slightly less, Cass."

"Fuck off," the red-headed girl said, with a small smile on her face.

"I talked to Lily and she's going to meet you in Primm. She's been hanging out down there anyway. A big purple monster isn't exactly inconspicuous in a trailer."

As they stepped outside their makeshift camp for the last time, Six made sure she trailed slightly behind. Turning to the mountain ridge, she made a theatrical gesture and bowed. She almost thought she saw a shadow shifting behind a bush. Without hesitating, she pulled her pistol and fired directly into the bush. A scurrying sound made her realize her target had been a rabbit. Still, she was certain their pursuer was nearby. Come on, motherfucker. Come on if you think you're hard enough. Let's see how much of a badass you are without your Legion buddies.

Unfortunately, if the hidden follower was the man that Six was increasingly convinced it was, then the answer was "pretty badass."

Several days later, Six and Boone were still barely on speaking terms as they pressed northeast. Six preferred it that way. He was still seething about her attempt to abandon them after Goodsprings, and she felt similarly about his unspoken desire to kill her rather than let her get captured. Intellectually, she knew that he was probably in the right on that one, but something about her wouldn't let her give in, wouldn't let her die without seeing her enemies face to face.

At least two trained warriors sneaking through the brush made a lot less noise than two trained warriors, one drunk, one person wearing the heaviest armor known to man, and a supermutant. They'd used Stealth-Boys when they had to be out in the open for extended periods, but now that they'd reached the hills on the other side of the prison, they were able to move openly and at a faster pace. Six estimated that they'd reach Hidden Valley within a day. But they had yet to draw their pursuer out of the shadows, which left her little peace of mind. Somehow Six knew that they had about as much chance of reaching the Brotherhood bunker as they did the NCR. She found that this didn't bother her as much as she thought it would. She had been living on borrowed time since the Strip, and her only goals now were to get her friends to safety and to take down as many Legion as she could before she died.

Their initial plan was to press through without stopping, but when Six collapsed from exhaustion shortly after sunset on the second day, Boone insisted that they get some rest. He hunted and roasted some geckos for them while she napped in the entryway of a cave for a few hours. Then after dinner, she took the second watch while Boone curled up behind a rock about twenty feet away. Even while sleeping, he hated spending time in caves and other positions where his beloved sniper rifle would be useless. Not that it would do him any good; Boone could stay awake for incredible periods of time, but when he finally fell asleep, he was dead to the world for at least six hours.

She was sitting at the mouth of the cave, her pistol on her lap, scanning the horizon for any threats, when she suddenly felt a prickling sensation at the back of her neck. She grabbed for her pistol and opened her mouth to scream when a strong hand covered her mouth and gripped her jaw, holding it shut, while her pistol was yanked out of her grasp. In the cave, behind her. Just like when the Strip was attacked, she had been looking the wrong way the whole time.

"Got you," hissed Vulpes Inculta, directly in her ear.